Mary Dennison was too old for a schoolgirl crush, but it didn't take long for her to realize that's exactly what she had on her backyard neighbor, Charlie Kent. At first they had bonded over shared loss. Mary, at forty-eight, had lost her husband to cancer. Charlie, who Mary thought was about fifty-five, had moved into the neighborhood a few months after that, and a few months after his own wife had left him for a younger man. Their losses were different in any number of ways, but their recent loneliness gave them something to talk about over backyard iced tea.
It hadn't taken long for Mary's loneliness to find in Charlie more than companionship in suffering. He was a little rougher around the edges than her husband had been, but he was just as kind and thoughtful. He often did small favors for her without either asking if she would like him to, or telling her after that he had. Mary had spied him trimming the branches on her plum tree, but rather than embarrass him by calling attention to it, she had just smiled to herself.
The more he worked in his own yard and helped with hers, either secretly or openly, the more time they spent chatting, the more Mary realized that she was becoming quite attracted to Charlie. He was almost exactly six-feet tall, and he had a little extra weight around the middle, but he had a working man's strong arms and hands, and a face that was handsome with character. His eyes were blue-grey, and even through his face was generally expressionless, Mary's stomach flipped just a little every time she saw those eyes sparkle whenever walked into a room or into his yard.
She didn't think he probably noticed her much. She was a little under five-eight with wavy brown hair to her shoulders and eyes the color of dark oak. She thought her face was pretty, and she liked to add just a touch of glamor to it with the judicious use of makeup, but she was no movie star. Time and two children had given her hips a little spread, her breasts and backside a little heft, and while she worked out some to keep herself pretty toned, she knew her tummy was a little round and she was no sex symbol.
But, as time went on and she kept noticing him, and thinking about him, she also realized that she was hoping more and more that she was underestimating herself and that maybe he was noticing her, too.
It was a little before Mary's forty-ninth birthday that she realized just how much she was falling for her lonely neighbor. He was not a perpetually sad man, by any means, but Charlie's loneliness was obvious, and his self esteem had taken a huge hit from the way his wife had left him. He felt unloved and unwanted. More than that, he felt unlovable and unwantable.
Mary did not feel sorry for him, she did not pity him, but it hurt her to know that he didn't see in himself what she saw in him. It was that realization that told her she was falling in love with him. She was a lucky woman. Her husband, when he had known that he was doing to die, had been very clear that she should never feel guilty about loving someone else after he had left.
"You always made me feel like the luckiest man in the world," he had told her. "If someone else is lucky enough to have you care about them, even half as much as you've always made me feel cared for, don't hesitate. Shower them with all the love and affection you care to. It will make me happy, too."
Mary was practically glowing as she thought about showering Charlie with love and affection and her husband smiling down on her. They were not explicitly sexual thoughts, but as she lay in bed thinking about it, her hand crept up her nightgown and inside her panties. She thought of nothing more than helping Charlie realize how much a woman could want him, and knowing that her husband would be pleased with her for doing so. Soon, her eyes were closed, her back arched, and her hand rubbing her clitoris as vigorously as she could.
The longer she did this, though, the more explicit her thoughts became. Unbidden, unexpected, she was suddenly aware of true lust for Charlie. Of wanting his body and hers to join. Of wanting to use her body to help him feel good and wanting to use every ounce of her energy to show just him just how much she wanted him, body and soul.
She'd never been a particularly extravagant masturbator, but as she thought about Charlie joining her in bed, her panties ended up on the bookcase and her nightgown around her waist. Her body thrashed and bounced on the bed as violently as if if where were actually coupling with him. One hand worked savagely between her legs. The other lashed out and clawed at the bed.
By the end, she was making noise and calling out Charlie's name. At the moment of climax, she could make no sound. Her eyes were wide, her mouth open, and her whole body locked momentarily in tension for and instant. When that tension released itself, a bucketful of fluid poured out from between her labia, and her thighs spasmed visibly in shocking reflection of the tremor inside her.
She didn't clean herself or the bed, or even straighten her gown. She simply rolled to her side, smiling, and pulled a pillow to her chest. "I'm in love again, honey."
A few days later was the eve of her birthday. She and Charlie were sitting in lounge chairs in his yard. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt that was wonderfully tight across his pecs. She was wearing an orange sleeveless top that she hoped was just a shade tight on her own chest, and denim shorts that she knew showed off a whole lot of leg. Whatever doubts she had about her body or her beauty did not apply to her legs. She was very proud of those. She hoped Charlie noticed them.
"I know what I want for my birthday, Charlie," Mary said, her voice just slightly teasing.
"What's that?" he asked curiously. He'd been pestering her about it for a month.
She hoped he wouldn't be embarrassed. "I know about all the favors you've been doing for me."
"Favors?"
"The yard work. The checking on my house when I'm gone. The word to Tracy about her damn dog."
"Oh," he said simply. He shrugged. "Just trying to help."
Mary took a deep breath and prayed that she still knew how to plant ideas in guys' minds without being disgustingly obvious. She sat up, spreading her legs to the side so that she was casually straddling the lounge chair. "You're very helpful, and I appreciate the favors."
"So what is it you want for you birthday?"
"I want you to let me return the favor."
"Which favor?"
"Generally. I want to do you a favor, but I know you're a man, you're strong, and you're proud, and you'll probably argue with me and try to stop me."
Charlie actually laughed at that. "Probably true."
Mary rolled her hips subtly forward and curled her legs a little back. She was pretty sure he was watching her. "So my present from you is that you're not going to stop me."
"Fair enough." He was smiling easily. "What's the favor you're going to do?"
Mary swung her leg around, crossing right over left. He was definitely watching. "Here's the plan. Tomorrow we have lunch at my house. I know you have your meeting in the afternoon. When you get back, I'll do the favor for you. Sound good?"
"Sounds great," Charlie said. His eyes were fully on her legs.
"See you then." Mary smiled, rose, and walked home, praying that he was watching her go. If she had turned around to look, she would have seen him watching her, trying not to lick his suddenly dry lips.
There could be no usual seduction, and Mary knew that. He wasn't confident enough to be seduced. He would shrink away and hide, either literally or emotionally. She would have to throw herself at him and make sure he was so convinced of how much she wanted him that he could not back off.
