I had lived long enough to know that nothing was impossible. But what was happening to me now was so improbable as to approach the realm of fantasy. An achingly handsome man some forty years my junior was in my bed. We were naked and he was fucking me.
It had started a week ago. I knew that my next-door neighbors, a couple my own age, had decided to make the move to Florida. Their house had sold quickly and I had yet to lay eyes on my new neighbor.
I was doing some gardening, and was struggling to move the largest flowerpot on my patio to another spot. The damned thing always gave me fits.
A deep voice came from behind me. "Now that does
not
look like something you should be doing by yourself."
I turned and saw a simply gorgeous young man smiling at me. He had brown hair, and a sweeping handlebar mustache. He was wearing a pair of gym shorts and nothing else and was built like Hercules. He was shiny with sweat. What a vision!
"May I be of assistance" he asked.
"Oh, I wouldn't want to impose," I responded.
"Don't be silly. What would my mother say if I didn't assist a lady in distress? Now where do you want this?" he asked.
I indicated a spot and he picked up the huge pot as if it weighed nothing. The way the muscles rippled in his back as he did so caused my heart to race.
Over the next few days we became acquainted. One afternoon he came into the yard as I was again gardening.
"Eileen," he said. "Do you enjoy the Symphony?"
"Why, yes, I do, very much. Do you as well?"
"I do. And I just happen to have two tickets for tomorrow night's performance. Would you allow me to escort you?"
"Harry!" I said. "Are you asking me to go out with you?"
"Well, I suppose I am," he responded.
"Harry, I can't tell you how flattered I am. You must be aware that I'm old enough to be your grandmother, right?"
"A fact that doesn't mitigate your charm and allure in the slightest degree," he responded.
Oh, what a doll baby!
I couldn't help reaching up and placing a hand on his cheek. He reacted by gently kissing the palm of my hand, as gentlemanly and courtly a compliment as I had ever received from a man.
It was the night of our date and I had stepped from the shower and was standing in front of the mirror in my bedroom. A woman of seventy-two could look a lot worse. I had kept my figure through playing pickle ball at the community center. My c-cup breasts didn't stand up the way they used to, but they didn't sag to my waist either. My stomach was still flat, and the triangle of hair between my legs had gone as silver as the hair on my head, and was thick and untrimmed. Ladies of my generation were not obsessed with removing it as young women seemed to be.
"Mature ladies are
supposed
to have hairy pussies," I said to myself.
I chose my "little black dress." I regarded myself again in the mirror. I thought I made it look pretty good for an old lady.
Harry called for me, looking utterly masculine in a corduroy sport coat and a snug pair of jeans.
"Shame on you!" I thought to myself as I glanced at his bulging crotch and imagined what was concealed there.
The performance that night was delightful. Harry was a perfect escort, a gentleman of the old school, and I loved being seen on his arm. I could tell people were wondering. Was I his mother? His grandmother?
We dined after the performance and afterwards he delivered me again to my porch.
"Eileen," he asked. "Does our evening together have to be over?"
"What did you have in mind, Dear," I asked.
"Well, there is something I want to ask you, but I'm afraid you're going to find it terribly presumptuous."
"I'm intrigued," I said coyly, as I looked up at him. "What is it?"
"Eileen," he said, as he took a step closer to me. "Would you like to make love?"
My eyes widened and my mouth dropped open. He bent down and ever so gently began to kiss my ear and my neck.
"Harry," I said. The way he was kissing me left me breathless and my voice a whisper. "Are you serious?"
"Very much so," he responded, his deep voice rumbling in my ear.
I pulled back slightly so that I could look into his eyes.
"Sweetheart," I said softly. "My late husband was a wonderful man, and he loved me, but he just wasn't skillful where intimacy was concerned. What I'm trying to say is, I'm not as experienced as you might be thinking a lady of my age should be. I'm afraid I'll be a disappointment to you."
"Well," he responded. "There must be things you've wanted to try, to experience, to experiment with."
I was speechless. I had a veritable laundry list of such things! But how could I ever even say them out loud!
He smiled knowingly. He took my key and unlocked my front door. We stepped inside. My home is a two story, and he effortlessly picked me up and put me on the second step of the three steps that led to the first landing of the stairway to the second floor. This put us at eye level. He held me close and I shivered as he reached behind me and pulled down the zipper of my dress.
"I'm going to strip you," he said softly.
Those words were incredibly exciting. Strip you! Never in my life had I ever removed my clothes, or had them removed outside the privacy of my bedroom. He did it slowly and I knew he could sense my excitement at this new experience. Soon I was naked. He held me tight with one arm, and with his other hand began to squeeze my bare ass.
"So," he said softly in my ear. "Did he kiss your pussy?"
I was shocked at the graphic nature of his question.
It took me a moment to find my voice.
"Never," I responded.
"Did he put his cock in your mouth?"
"He never even let me kiss it," I stammered. "He said acts like that were unnatural."
