The Sound of a Heartbeat

Claire had not noticed him until the third day that he ran past her house.

With Covid-19, she wasn't working at the office any more, but was working from home.

She had moved her desk to the front window in their living room because she had felt too isolated in their small home office. Living on a quiet country road, she hadn't figured on too many distractions but it allowed her to feel like she was still part of the world.

The odd car, sometimes a truck, and more animals than people, passed through by her window. Mostly she was able to focus though, and never noticed anything while she worked for the first few days.

She was talking on the phone when happened to glance up and notice him.

She hadn't noticed anyone jogging from her window until today. He was a big man, he was older, she could see a little grey hair under his ball cap, but otherwise he might have been thirty, nice shoulders and from what she could see, a nice butt, connected to two toned legs.

There was still snow on the ground, but he wore shorts and a sweatshirt, and it didn't look like the cold bothered him.

Even before the sudden appearance of Covid-19 and the subsequent lock down, she had pretty much resigned herself to a life without much excitement. Her work was the one exception, as a senior leader in a large corporation, working fulfilled her professional needs and the social interaction made up for the shortfalls in her personal life, but now even that had been taken from her.

She and her husband lived more as brother and sister than as husband and wife. Yes, they shared a bed, a nice house, three great kids, but any passion had long since evaporated. At 52, she was no longer a MILF, she would laugh to herself hoping someone might be looking for a GILF.

Dressed in sweat pants, her PJ top, and her hair looking like a bird's nest, she figured that no one was going to be knocking down her door any time soon. Almost without a thought, she had let her physical appearance suffer the past few weeks since she spent most days alone.

Sex was a distant memory, and although a very attractive woman; because of her position at work, she never even considered attempting to form a liaison with anyone that she met due to her loyalty to the company and an ingrained sense of what a marriage meant learned from a strict childhood.

All three kids were away at either college or university, and although they talked weekly, she felt more and more like a prisoner, it was a nice jail, but a jail nonetheless.

Her husband was still working at his office and had left early, like he did every day, she hadn't even gotten out of bed today when he left.

Although the runner had only been visible for maybe one or two minutes as he ran past, she had felt something, a longing, a sense of wistfulness.

She thought he had glanced at her window and smiled, but she couldn't be sure.

Throughout the day, she wondered who he was and whether she might see him again. It was silly, she figured it was just because she was lonely and he was the only person who she actually had seen that day.

The next day, she actually got dressed, jeans and a t-shirt, with her hair in a pony tail. She knew it was dumb, maybe he hadn't even remembered her, but she could dream, couldn't she. But no sign of him, she felt silly, old, and disappointed.

She was on the phone again with an important client from overseas the next day when she saw him. It was sunny, but still cold, she could see his breath.

He stopped in front of her house, seeming to catch his breath. He looked in her window and smiled. This was not an accident; he had done this so she would know he had seen her. Not handsome in a movie star way, he was nonetheless not unattractive. His eyes caught her attention, they were incredibly blue, not like most people's, they were a deep blue that captivated her momentarily, she smiled back and waved, then the client began speaking and she glanced at her computer screen and when she looked back up, he was gone.

"Damn," she said louder than she thought and had to apologize to her client, who mistakenly thought she was disagreeing with them.

The next day, was trash day, and first thing in the morning she was putting out her garbage cans, when she saw him again.

"Oh fuck," she said, she was wearing her old robe over her pj's, she wore an old toque over her hair, and could not imagine herself looking any uglier than she did at this moment. She thought she looked like a bag lady.

It was too late to avoid being seen, she saw him approach, he was maybe about 6.2, 200 pounds, muscular but not in an exaggerated way, strong features, and that nice smile.

He wore the same outfit today, and she could see the sweat despite the cold. Looking closer at him, she thought he might be younger than her, if you discounted the hair, he could be 38 or 39, but with the grey, he might be as old as 45-50. Later when she actually found out he was actually 54, she almost didn't believe it.

"Good morning, it's nice to see you again, how are you today?" he asked in a voice that she could feel more than hear, it was quiet but deep and powerful, it was hard to describe.

Oh god, I'm going to scare him away, looking the way I do, "Good morning," she managed.

He stopped and smiled, she couldn't remember afterwards what he had said, it had only been a few seconds, but she knew how he made her feel. Afterwards she was almost embarrassed; she was a business professional, not a school girl, but there was something about him, about his deep blue eyes that seemed to make her forget all of that.

Despite the cold and that he was sweating, she remembered his scent, yes, she could detect the sweatiness, but there was something else, something like cinnamon and the smell of fresh motor oil, or nice leather; a masculine smell. The scent reminded her of only one other person, her father. Her father was much older than her, and she remembered him as a big strong man, but always gentle with her, she loved those memories and this man reminded her of him.

As a young woman, she had always hoped she would find someone like that; but, life, school, university, kids, and a career pushed that desire into a forgotten corner of her mind. She hadn't thought about it again, not until today.

For the rest of that day, as much as she tried to focus on work, her mind drifted back to him, she suddenly remembered he had introduced himself, his name was Trevalian, he said she could call him Trev, if she wanted. Thinking back and she didn't even remember if she had introduced herself.

A few times during the day, she had found herself doodling and by the end of the day, she realized she had written the name Trevalian about 30 times on her scratch pad, and worse yet there were tiny hearts over the" i".

"Get a grip, woman," she admonished herself, you barely know him and besides it hasn't been that long.

"Actually, maybe it has," she thought. It had been years since the last time her and her husband had done more than a simple peck on the lips. He husband was almost ten years older than her, out of shape, although a good provider, she was far from happy. Looking at a recent picture, all she could remember thinking, "Was this all that I have to look forward too?"

As her kids moved off to university, she devoted herself to work, and tried not to think about how her own life wasn't satisfying. Sex wasn't sometime she thought much about, and when she did, she had her vibrator. At work she looked like she was happy, nice and professional, attractive in an older woman kind of way, her blonde hair now sprinkled with a little grey. Despite yoga, she had added a few extra pounds and she had meant to exercise more, but just didn't get around to it, although getting a little rounder herself, she laughed.

"T-r-e-v-a ..., oh fuck off," she caught herself writing the name again.

That night her dreams had haunted her with images of him and when she awoke, she was sweating.

"Just some hot flashes," she told herself.

Secretly her fear was ending up as one of those women who have dozens of cats. Her friends couldn't understand, because, to the outside world, she looked like they had the perfect life, all she knew is that "her sparkle, seemed to have gone out ".

This day, she got up and for the first time in a week, did her yoga, online she had notice comments from people working from home warning of, "Covid-19 pounds," and they weren't kidding. Putting herself through a hard workout, her heart was pounding when she was done and her t-shirt and shorts were soaked as she dragged herself into the shower.

Whenever she closed her eyes, she could see Trevalian. She shook her head, this was not her; she was not some starry-eyed kid, she was an executive of one of the biggest companies in the area, she was being stupid.

That during her shower, she tended to a few things that had slipped at little in the past few months. She shaved her legs, it was always a pain, but she always felt sexier afterwards. She was embarrassed by the 1970's style wild bush that she had developed through in-attention and after some cutting and trimming, she had fashioned a tight little triangle that was more in keeping with what she liked.

She brushed out her hair and put it into a nice perky pony tail. She did not expect to see anyone today, even though she hoped she might, and she applied just a touch of makeup.

Naked in front of her mirror, she felt better; she might be on the north side of 50, but while not a kid, she still thought she was pretty. Her breasts, at 34B's, were still perky enough and as sensitive as ever. She had a flat stomach and a nice ass, she thought, even with a couple of extra pounds, her legs were long and toned from exercise and walking.

She closed her eyes, she imagined that scent, masculine, strong, similar to her father more desirable, her mind could almost feel Trevalian's presence behind her, his hands on her body, his lips on her neck, his hands cupping both her breasts.

She could feel her temperature rising, her heart beating faster, his fingertips caressing her breasts, his fingers and thumbs lightly at first stroking her nipples, gradually pinching and pulling in such delicious ways, as she thought this, a moan escaped her mouth.

One hand moved down her body, fingers making circles, small and large with his fingertips, her knees almost buckled as her skin was covered in goosebumps. She inhaled deeply as in her imagination; his fingers found her little pussy.

Long soft strokes and movement along her outer lips, skillfully darting here and there, her world became a mix of red and purple colors mixing with the incredible scent of leather and oil, it was as if he was right there. She swore she could feel his breathe on her neck.

Those fingers penetrated her, thick and powerful, first one then a second. The other hand was now on her ass, alternately squeezing and caressing her cheeks. Her breathing was coming in quick rasps now, then suddenly her knees flexed and she almost fell, the orgasm was so strong, so unexpected, and so forceful in its intensity that she almost passed out.

The reds and purples faded, the scent lingered, her heart slowed, and she was alone again.

"Wow, that was incredible."

She could not remember an orgasm like that ... well ... ever. Yes, a long time ago, her husband, and some of the guys she dated before she was married, did make her feel somewhat good, but she had faked many of them, especially the ones with her husband, and even her own orgasms with the vibrator were not like the one she just had.

What was it about this person, was it the isolation she felt? Was it the loneliness? Was it because it had been so long since she had been with someone? She barely knew him, what did she know about him?

That morning, she worked with one eye concentrating on her work, and one eye on the road, a little after two hours of this she was about ready to give up, and then he appeared.

Today was warmer and he just wore shorts and a tee-shirt, he stopped right in front of their house and it looked like he was tying up his shoe, he looked up and looked right into her eyes, and smiled. It was only for a few seconds, but their eyes locked, the deep blue of his eyes and the soft brown of hers.

Then he was gone, her heart felt like it had plummeted off a cliff, the rest of the day was lost in a fog. She thought to herself as she did her yoga the next morning again, she wasn't going to keep acting like a victim. Starting to care about how she looked at home was a start; he was reminding her of how nice it felt to be sexy and desired.

That night with her husband snoring in the bed at 2:35, she glanced at the clock, thinking that there had to be more to life than this. Tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable, she finally nodded off, just as another snore woke her up ... 2:47. She could have screamed.

She closed her eyes and finally sleep came for her and so did Trevalian. She knew she was dreaming and the colors were so vivid, it was like all of the colors of the spectrum were turbo charged. Suddenly he was there, they were kissing, his blue eyes piercing her soul and his lips dancing across hers in a sensual way that made her knees weak. Their tongues explored each other's lips, and mouths and she felt the stirrings of heat building between her thighs.

She could see her husband sleeping in the bed next to her and Trevalian, oblivious to her husband, just kept kissing her and that only added to the excitement she felt.

She felt Trevalian's powerful arms holding her as their kissing became rawer and more extreme. She felt his hot breath on her chest as he leaned over any began to suckle her breasts. His lips and tongue finding her hardening nipples and biting, sucking, and pulling on them just the way she had always hoped her husband would do, but never had.

She felt him turn her over so that she was lying on her tummy, then he lifted her ass up, so that her face was still resting on her pillow, but her ass was being supported by her legs, she felt his fingertips stroking and caressing the sensitive skin of her ass cheeks.

One set of five fingers just lightly traced circles and shapes on her skin, making her moan in delight. The second fingers played outside and inside of her pussy. She could feel the moisture accumulating and dripping from her vagina, he seemed to have a hundred fingers and each one of them found another sensitive part of her skin to caress.

Then she sensed his tongue, starting at the bottom of her back, she felt the tip of his tongue start down between her cheeks. The heat from his breath seemed to burn her skin as it plunged between each cheek. She could feel the stubble of his face creating friction against her smooth skin.

Those hundred fingers around her pussy were making her breathing more difficult and more and more labored, her hips were rocking back and forth, pushing hard against his face as he licked and sucked on her ass.

She had read about having someone eat her ass but had never thought it would happen, even in a dream. His tongue found her asshole and lightly circled the puckered skin of her opening. Around and around the small rosebud, the sensation was now making her moan almost continuously, she thrust her ass hard against his face.

His tongue penetrated into her ass and she screamed his name, as an orgasm rolled over her like a tidal wave, he pushed his tongue deeper into her ass as her hips bucked as if they had a mind of their own. A second orgasm followed the first and she collapsed into the bed.

Recovering, she could hear a snap, and then felt something cool and slippery being applied to her throbbing asshole, she could feel fingers where only minutes again his tongue had been, they spread a slippery gel all over and into her ass. One finger entering her to a knuckle, then withdrawing, another moan echoing in the room, she felt it re-enter her, then a second finger joined it and started stretching her ass, in and out, then a third. Then nothing for several seconds.

Something larger began pushing against her ass, something round and very hard. Something just as slippery as those same fingers. She felt the tension as it stretched her, the feeling of pain and pleasure as it pushed past the resistance.

The tip penetrated deeper and a wider bulk followed, one inch then two, then back out again. She felt like she was being split in two. She had never had anyone fuck her ass before, the tightness, the size, she felt like she might explode.

Her screams and moans of pleasure and pain alternated back and forth and yet her husband slept on, his snores lost in the screams of passion that escaped from her mouth.

The intensity of the orgasm that she felt building was like a wave twice the size of her first two orgasms. She shouted Trevalian's name as she felt his body against her ass, the entirety of his cock buried deep in her ass, she felt his cock withdraw and then plunge deep into her over and over again. She felt the sweat pouring down her face, her hair plastered wet from the passion.

She felt him stiffen and then explode deep inside her ass, the force of his cum actually causing a sensation inside of her body as she felt another wave roll over her and she came hard.

A buzzing sound broke through the pleasure, it took several seconds to register, her husband's alarm, the clock said 5:30 am. She was soaked, the scent of her sex filled the air, she noticed it, she noticed how soaked in sweat she was, how her ass throbbed, how sensitive her pussy felt. It had been a dream, she reached down and realized she was naked, her nightgown was in a far corner of the room.

"Wow," was all she could think.

Her husband never even acknowledged anything, he simply grunted something like "morning" and lumbered off to the bathroom. She laid there, exhausted, sweaty, feeling very sexy, and wondering how she could meet this Trevalian.

Later she still did not have answer to that question, her husband had left for work without saying more than just a handful of sentences, all of them about how much work he had to do, and nothing about her. Normally that would have bothered her, today he barely registered in her mind.

Working back at her desk, she plowed through the work, feeling energized. Today, she was dressed in a plain white t-shirt, no bra, comfy jeans with no panties, a pair of wool socks and a comfy knit sweater. After she had worked out this morning, she showered, dressed and put on her makeup. Regardless of whether she saw him or not, she was feeling more like herself again.

So focused on her tasks, she almost missed him. He was standing at the road, today wearing black Nike shorts, a hockey jersey, white socks, running shoes, and a toque, he looked more cute than handsome. Their eyes locked and they both smiled at the same time. He motioned to the door and then pointed at himself and she smiled and nodded her head. She watched him walk towards her door, and then heard the knock.

"Come in its open," she said in a louder than normal voice.

The next 90 minutes disappeared in a pleasant blur, she remembered inviting him in for a hot chocolate and they talked. She talked and talked, she unloaded about her unhappy marriage, spilling her heart at a man, she didn't even know. Those eyes and that scent seemed to tear down all of her normal reservations and defenses. His quiet voice was not judgmental, he didn't try to fix anything, he just listened. She told him everything, everything except that daydream and the dreams from last night.

All through the conversation she could feel her heartbeat, she felt flushed, and she felt excited. When he got up to leave, she knew it was far too late for her, it had been since the first time she looked into those blue eyes. She chose not to even try to fight it.