She rolls the material of the mature two-piece bathing suit bottoms until it's as skimpy as she dares. She's exposing parts of her body that haven't seen the sun in many years. Closing her eyes she lays back on the chaise lounge. The sun's sultry fingers touching, caressing, arousing forgotten passion.
She does the top next. She rolls it until it's a thin tight band covering her nipples. She chuckles, her ample body jiggles. "Am I trying to roll back the years to when my tits were perky; unaffected by gravity?" The tight band bathing suit top keeps her plentiful well-aged breasts up where they belong as she again lays back on the chaise lounge.
A house stands several yards away, hidden behind two old growth Monterey pine. From the bedroom window he watches her, loving her. When he is assured she is asleep he turns away busing himself with his plan.
The warmth of the sun and the soft gentle breeze brush their fingers along the inside of her thighs and across her belly. She moans dreaming of feathered caresses and loving sighs as the rustling of the two large Monterey pines sing to her.
She's startled from her soft intimate slumbers by a loud metallic clash.
"Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean to wake you," her husband says.
She watches as he turns around bending over to pick up the tools that fell out of the wheelbarrow. His board shorts pull tight over his larger than and not as tight as it was, ass. Turning around to place the gardening tools back into the wheelbarrow he smiles at her.
She can't help a faint found smile of her own as she ponders, does getting turned on by 66 year old man boobs mean I'm a lesbian? To her surprise she does feel a slight twinge. A twinge of a feeling she had feared she'd never feel again, after the operation.
Her eyes drift down past his generous belly to what she could see of his board shorts. The Velcro crotch appears to have been hastily pushed back together. Was he foundling himself while I lay here asleep? She couldn't help but grin at her horndog of a husband.
"Does the hired help see somethin' he likes?" she drawls with all the sweet sassafras of a Southern Bell.
"Ah, Yes. I mean No ma'ma." He didn't realize he'd picked up the wheelbarrow, put it down and picked it up again. He's fascinated as she turns on her side crossing her legs and her bathing suit bottoms disappear. He's mesmerized as her breasts strain the top beginning to slip out.
"Well, boy, this here Southern Bell see's something she likes. C'om here." As her husband steps out from behind the wheelbarrow her feelings with-in are no longer a twinge. Her ardent feelings are now fervent. A warmth growing from inside her as she sees the Velcro of his board shorts spreading, straining to keep him inside.
He sits down next to her on the chaise lounge just as her tits pop out. He catches one with familiar deftness, caressing it softly. Old feelings and emotions rush back to her. She lays her head back closing her eyes. He kisses her eyes tenderly. Then softly on her lips. He lingers, lips on lips, then pushing lovingly, she opens hers, and he kisses her deeper. He leans slowly onto her. She wraps her arms around him pulling him to her.
To keep himself steady he puts his arm on the edge of the lounge. He brushes her bare hip as he does. They shutter with the rush of emotions far too long suppressed. With reluctance on both parts but overwhelming anticipation on his the kiss is temporally ended.
