The Stranger on Cliff Lane

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A widow unexpectedly has her spark reignited by a stranger.
6k words
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Part 1 of the 2 part series

Updated 06/07/2023
Created 02/09/2013
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Otazel
Otazel
2,591 Followers

Diane closed the door to her little cottage and wandered across the narrow unmade lane to the old wooden fence that guarded the cliff edge and gazed out across the sea. Widowed at fifty-four she had sold up her London home and moved to live by the Cornish coast in what had previously been their weekend retreat. She had loved this little place ever since they had bought it as an escape and with the avowed intention of making it their retirement home. That was before the heart attack that took David from her and changed everything.

Hers was the middle of just three old cottages scattered along the single track road, and the only one to have a permanent resident. Occasionally she would meet the owners of the others when they too broke free of the rat-race for week or two, or perhaps the holidaymakers to whom the cottages were often let on a week to week basis, but other than that she had the little road with its fabulous sea views to herself.

She didn't mind, she loved the peace and solitude after so many years in the bustle and noise of the city, although she would readily admit that she missed David's arms around her and would have swapped anything to have his warmth and passion just once more.

Physical contact with another human being she missed above almost everything else, but she had loved David dearly and couldn't yet bring herself to enter into another relationship. It would seem so disloyal to the man who had given her everything, including the lovely little cottage she now lived in. She would manage with her memories and her fingers, and her first vibrator bought last year at the age of fifty-five, something that made her smile every time she thought about it. What did they say? Just because there's frost on the roof doesn't mean the fire's gone out. Blonde hair dye got rid of the frost and her new little toy kept the fire under control, and would do so until she felt able to break free and of her memories and offer herself to another man. But even she acknowledged that getting over a husband of nearly thirty years and moving on, especially at her age, was not very likely, and anyway, who would want a wizened old thing like her?

She turned her head to the west where a big red summer sun hovered just above the horizon and felt a warm evening breeze play with her hair. Across the water she could just make out the dark smudge of a ship sailing out into the Atlantic. She leaned on the fence and let her mind drift, thinking of the times she'd had here with David, and even the times they'd made love down on the beach. She smiled wistfully, giggling softly and only straightening her face when the sound of footsteps on the gravel of the road announced someone approaching. She didn't want to be thought of as the old mad woman who lived on her own.

'Hello.'

She looked up, but the man was a stranger. He was an attractive stranger with an open face and a broad smile, but still a stranger.

'Hello.' She replied simply, not wanting to sound impolite but not really wanting to encourage him.

'Beautiful, isn't it.'

She turned her face back out to sea as if taking in the view.

'Yes, isn't it.'

He had stopped and was standing level with her.

'Are you on holiday?'

'No, I live here.'

'Lucky you.'

'Yes.'

She looked across at him, seeing a man who was pretty much the exact opposite of David. Tall, strong and tanned, her junior by about ten years or perhaps a little more, and with long wavy dark hair that curled around the neck of his tee-shirt. With a physique like that he was clearly not a heart attack candidate. Why couldn't David have kept himself that fit?

'Down here for long?'

She had no idea why she asked, only a couple of minutes before she had been wanting him to move on, but now she found herself extending the conversation.

'A couple of weeks. I'm renting the end one.'

She assumed, rightly, that he had meant the cottage at the far end of this dead end lane as that was the direction he was walking. It was the most modernised of the three cottages, even boasting a hot tub.

'You'll like it, just so long as you don't want excitement.'

He smiled. 'No, I've had enough of that for a while, now I just want to enjoy a rest.'

She wondered briefly what he had been doing to prompt those words, but she shrugged the question away as none of her business. She nodded, looking out to sea again. The ship had disappeared, swallowed by the vastness of the ocean. He came across the grass verge and stood next to her, his hands alongside hers on the top rail of the fence. She knew she should feel nervous, but she didn't. In fact she felt strangely reassured by his presence, and so she accepted it willingly and they stood side by side, enjoying silent companionship as the sun made its slow way into the sea.

The minutes passed and the sun sank lower, evening drawing into twilight, and at some point during that time they had unknowingly moved closer to each other until Diane suddenly realised that the edge of her hand was touching his where they held the top of the fence. Without looking at him she instinctively raised her little finger and stroked the side of his, not knowing what had prompted her action.

She sensed rather than saw his reaction as he glanced at her in surprise, but neither spoke and she continued tracing his finger with hers, until finally he moved his hand and laid it gently over hers. They stood quietly and unmoving for some minutes, taking quiet pleasure in the contact before they both glanced at each other simultaneously and smiled trustingly.

'It's nice to know the natives are friendly.' He teased softly.

She didn't reply, just smiled up into warm brown eyes that reflected the setting sun and on impulse interlaced her fingers with his and then laid her head on his shoulder, sighing with the pure contentment of doing something so human and so simple but that she had never expected to do again. So it's true, she told herself, your heart really does skip a beat when something so nice happens without warning.

What it as that was drawing her to this stranger she couldn't say, all she knew was that she felt relaxed and safe beside him, and her heart was beating just a little bit faster because he hadn't pushed her away. She had half expected her spontaneous act to be rejected as coming from someone too old to still be considered a woman.

Again they slipped into a comfortable silence, holding hands but still resting them on the fence as if to camouflage their action. Why am I doing this, she wondered, and more importantly, what happens now? She didn't want a relationship, and in any case, he was only here for two weeks. Stop it, she chided herself. You've made the running and he's too polite to rebuff you. Soon, she thought, he'll make and excuse and walk away, and then take care not to speak to you the next time we meet. But for now his shoulder felt warm and strong through the denim of his work shirt and his hand strong and firm in hers. The summer air was cooling now the sun was almost gone, but she didn't want to go in yet, not yet. A stray breeze penetrated her thin summer dress and she shivered momentarily, the unexpected zephyr raising goose bumps as it passed even though both it and the evening were still comparatively warm.

'Cold?' He asked, his face showing his concern.

She shook her head. 'No, just a draught that I wasn't expecting.'

'Let me shield you.' He released her hand and moved to stand behind her, enfolding her slim figure within his arms and pulling her back against his chest.

'Thank you.' She said, blissful bewilderment turning her knees to sudden jelly so that she had to lean back against him for support.

She let go of the fence to place her hands on his as they wrapped around her beneath her breasts, standing in front of him and wondering once more where things were headed. By now she had come to understand that just as she was unaccountably attracted to him, equally unbelievably he was also attracted to her. She folded her hands over his and waited to see what might happen, her heart beginning to flutter with unaccustomed excitement.

She felt him move a little behind her and then his lips brushed the nape of her neck, making such a tentative contact that for a moment she wasn't even sure what he had done. She sighed softly and deliberately and bent her head forward, inviting a repeat.

Once again his lips made contact with her neck, this time more confidently, as he planted a series of gentle kisses around the back of her neck and towards the sides. She breathed in deeply, her eyes closing with pleasure even though her mind was reminding her that this was a stranger, someone she had just met and even whose name she didn't know.

She made a little guttural noise in her throat to let him recognize her pleasure and let her hands fall to her sides, releasing his and silently but deliberately inviting him to go further. He needed no further encouragement, his hands moved to cup her breasts, squeezing them gently through the cups of her bra. She knew that to let things continue was an invitation she would not be able to withdraw later, but she didn't care, her heart was pounding now with the vaguely remembered feelings that she had reluctantly consigned to her past. She was feeling thrilled, nervous, excited, and even a little aroused, and it was getting better by the minute. She placed her hands back on the fence rail and simply let him touch her.

He squeezed, pressed, moulded and manipulated her breasts, all the time scattering fleeting kisses across her neck and behind her ears, making her nipples react and her breath come faster. She moaned softly, unable to stop herself even though she knew it would encourage him. His breathing was sounding more rapidly in her ear, quick little breaths between kisses that revealed his growing arousal. But that didn't matter, she could feel her body responding and although her mind was in a whirl at what was happening, she knew now that whatever he wanted to do she wouldn't try to stop him.

He was moving closer to her, his body pressing on to her from behind and one hand sliding down from her bust to her stomach to pull her tight so that she felt beautifully trapped against him, the warmth of his body protecting her against the evening chill. She wasn't sure, but for a moment she thought she felt an erection push against her bottom before he moved again, stepping back a little, taking his hand from her belly. She wondered why, thinking maybe he was changing his mind, before understanding dawned as she felt his fingers searching for the zipper of her dress. She bent her head forward again, helping him by swinging her hair out of the way, wanting him to find it yet nervous for the consequences.

The zip buzzed as he lowered it, and then his strong hands brushed against her skin as he pushed her dress from her shoulders. She took her hands from the rail and shook the short sleeves free, letting it fall in a little crumpled pile around her feet. His fingers fumbled at her back and her bra loosened, falling away from her breasts and letting the cooling evening air play around her nipples, hardening them and making them stand out even more. The bra fell away from her body and she lowered her arms again to let it fall on top of her dress before taking hold of the fence once more and staring nervously out over the sea wearing nothing more than her tiny cotton panties. The breeze, cool and gentle, raised invigorating goose bumps on her skin and she quivered happily.

She sensed him back away and stand looking at her, all of a sudden feeling anxious that her pale skin and thin limbs would make her look ghostlike and unattractive to him now that it was almost dark, and she shivered, not from cold this time, but from certainty that he would reject her and walk away.

'I know I'm thin.' She said sadly. 'But I can't help it.'

'Don't run yourself down.' He answered hoarsely. 'You're slim not thin, and you look beautiful to me.'

'I feel old and skinny.'

'And you think I'd undress a woman I don't fancy, do you?' He shot back at her, a hint of gentle mockery in his voice. 'You're fine.'

He came close again, his fingers hooking into the waistband of her panties and easing them down. She lifted each foot in turn, kicking off her shoes at the same time, helping him to strip her naked, buoyed up by his remarks and no longer quite so self conscious. Once again he stood behind her and slid his hands around her body to cup her bare breasts, gently fondling them in the palms of his hands. All of a sudden she realised that he had taken his shirt off, for she could feel his chest hair on her back, the skin on skin contact sending a little frisson of lust running through her.

He trapped each nipple between two fingers and drew her breasts out into points, pulling at her so that she almost took a step forward, but using the fence as a brace she pushed herself back, increasing the pull and hissing gently as she made it hurt just a little. He had no way of knowing, but she had loved having her breasts pulled, though she was sure they were fuller the last time it had happened.

'I'm sorry they're so saggy.' She apologised for them, remembering how she used to be. In truth, although the years and gravity had taken some toll, her image of herself didn't match what other eyes might see.

'They're lovely. I like playing with them.' He kissed her nape again. 'And you like it too, I can tell.'

She could hear arousal thickening his voice. She nodded without looking at him, still holding onto the fence and passively letting him have his way. It was as if she was relearning how to be a woman instead of the dried up husk she had believed herself to have become. Perhaps, she thought hopefully, perhaps he'll go all the way and make love to me.

One hand left her breast and made its way down her front, stroking and fondling her all the way, fingertips lightly tracing her shape, skating lightly from belly button to hip and then dipping down to push into the rough of her pubic hair. She gasped and gripped tighter onto the fence, feeling his fingers push through her bush and probe between her legs. Instinctively she started to clench her legs together but then, as her desire overcame her instincts, she parted them, planting her feet about a yard apart to give him full access. It was wonderful to let a man's fingertips slide over her clit once more, and make her shudder with excitement as he cupped and played with her pussy.

'Nice?' He asked.

'Yes.' She answered simply and truthfully.

'Do you want me to stop?'

'No.'

His arm was right across her front, grasping her far breast to hold her tight while he delved between her legs, fingers squirming and fondling her pussy until two slipped between her labia and he found her entrance. She was wet. She hadn't realised just how turned on and slippery she was until the two fingers simply glided so effortlessly into her. Still holding the fence she leaned her head back, sighing with pleasure and he kissed the side of her neck, sending another shiver of excitement running through her.

He probed her as deeply as their position would allow, the heel of his palm rubbing against her clit as his fingers slid back and forth until she began to tremble with pleasure and the knowledge that he had the power to make her come. She was moaning unashamedly now, announcing her enjoyment to anyone who could hear, knowing that an audience was unlikely but not caring anyway.

Abruptly, without any warning, he withdrew his fingers and took his hand away, causing her to look up in surprise. But he wasn't finished, he held the fingers before her face, a clear invitation for her to suck them and taste her own wetness. She opened her mouth and licked them clean, the unfamiliar flavour of her own juices strong in her mouth.

'Good girl.' The unaccustomed and unexpected praise made her smile.

Once again he moved, standing behind her and placing his hands on her hips. This is it, she thought, and I'm ready for it.

But it wasn't, at least not yet. Using her hips to guide her he pulled her clear from the fence, making her back away a couple of steps before pushing her legs apart once more and bending her at the waist so that she had to take hold of the top rail again and physically lean on her arms. It was a little uncomfortable, but she didn't mind because it made her feel so totally helpless and vulnerable.

Letting go of her hips he stood to the side and let one hand trail softly along her spine while the other reached under her and grasped a swaying breast, rubbing and caressing it and playing with her nipple. She lowered her head, trying to see him touching her, and moaned deeply, the moan turning to a gasp as he gripped her nipple between finger and thumb and squeezed, pulling it downwards at the same time.

'Do that again.' She asked, gasping louder as he obliged.

'More.'

'No more.' He told her, releasing her breast and placing the hand on her back.

She felt disappointed and a little embarrassed at having revealed one of her foibles, but he made no suggestion that he had noticed and his other hand now began to explore her bottom, pushing between her cheeks and down her crack. She wasn't sure what he intended, but he skimmed past her anus with no more than a brief circle around it and went on until he found her pussy, his fingers slipping straight back in to her vagina as if they owned it. Perhaps for tonight at least, she thought, they do.

He began to thrust his fingers into her, able to bury them to their full depth now they had changed position. She leaned on the fence, naked and exposed, passively accepting his fingers, gazing out to sea where in the far distance the running lights of a ship revealed other human life and wondering vaguely if, with a telescope, they could see her and make out the smile of pleasure on her face. Of course she knew they couldn't, but in a bizarre way she wished they could, or at least that someone could, proof positive that she was still sexually active. Maybe a car would find its way along the lane and spear them in its headlights, illuminating a pale and skinny aging widow enjoying a new lease of life at the hand of a strong and handsome younger man, a silent boast to the world that all was not finished yet. But for sure that wouldn't happen, cars only ever came past on their way to the last cottage, and its current occupant was here, pleasuring her and giving her the reason for her fantasy. She knew they could be doing this quite safely in the middle of the lane with their eyes closed.

Slowly he began to speed up until soon he was pushing his fingers hard into her, twisting and turning them at the same time as if trying to screw them right inside her, plunging them in hard and fast, making her gasp and groan with the sheer thrill of it. She was wet, soaking wet, and deep inside her she could feel the beginnings of an orgasm. The sensation excited her, the idea that she was going to come from the man's attentions giving her a buzz all of its own. She set herself, pushing back against his plunging fingers, helping him propel them deeper, feeling her orgasm steadily mounting.

'I'm going to come.' She announced breathlessly.

'Good.' He responded. 'I want you to.'

He let his hand slide from her back and reached under her, grasping her breast once more. But this time he didn't fondle it or even pull on it, instead he simply squeezed it hard, hard enough for her to grimace. He had understood her need from before and now he was making her orgasm grow into one almighty explosion.

When she came she shouted out loud, her wail sounding extra loud in the quiet of the summer evening, but she didn't care. Wave after white hot wave of ecstasy coursed through her body, overloading her sensations and turning her knees to jelly so that his hand on her breast became a support as she juddered and jolted through her climax. Time after time she cried out, unrestrained screeches that she couldn't prevent, each one a declaration of her delight and surprise. She had never expected this to happen to her again and all her pent up frustration was released in that one overpowering orgasm.

Otazel
Otazel
2,591 Followers
12