I had recently turned sixty and retired from my career in law enforcement, but after a couple of months of being bore out of my skull, I decided to take up a retirement job to keep me busy and to keep the peace in my with my prude of a wife. She was not happy with me being home all the time and not long into retiring, she made it clear that whatever I wanted to do, it would be done without her.
Unfortunately, I was not the divorcing type of man, and even though our daughter was grown and out of the house, I figured that I would stick with my wife until death us do part even if it meant doing it without any intimacy or even spending some quality time alone with her. My wife was a cold hearted narcissistic bitch but I still held on to the fact that deep down I continued to love her in some way.
Anyway, the retirement job I picked up was at a local high school as a custodian, working the afternoon shift. It was an easy job, probably one of the easiest jobs I had ever done in my life. The school was not very big as far as schools go, but then our town was pretty small and so we only had to clean a couple of floors.
I started my shift there just as all the kids were leaving for the day so the only people, I would run into were a few teachers here and there before they finished their day. They were all nice and always seemed to appreciate the job that I was doing for them and it made me feel good to help them in any way I could to make their day easier.
One teacher in particular, Mrs. Donley, was one of those teachers that always stayed later than the rest, seemingly buried in endless papers to grade or reports to read. I thought it was kind of nice because it gave me the opportunity to talk to her on a frequent basis as I started cleaning the classrooms. She was a very sweet woman and always had a smile when I came to her classroom.
Now as far as looks goes, she was probably what most would consider an average attractive woman, in her mid-forties with brown hair, highlighted with some hints of gray here and there. She did not wear much makeup as she just had a natural beauty about her that did not require being covered up.
At first, the only thing we did was make small talk, like the weather, how the day was going, or anything that she might need done in her room over and above what I normally do. We also talked a little about our spouses and our children along the way. This type of chatting went on between us for a couple of months and like I said, Mrs. Donley always seemed happy and had that sweet smile that could melt a cold heart in a moment.
That all changed one week though when I noticed that smile of hers disappeared and she became a bit distant with me, sometimes leaving before I managed to get to her classroom. I could tell that something was wrong but I was not sure if I was in the right place to ask her about it.
Well, after a couple of weeks of her being like this, I finally managed to catch Mrs. Donley while still in her room. When I got there and tapped on her door, she still had no smile to offer, so I did not hold back any longer and asked her, "Mrs. Donley, are you okay? You seem pretty down lately and it doesn't seem like you to not have a smile on your face."
She just looked up at me from her work, without saying a word, but then stared off into the distance. I saw tears well up in her eyes and I knew something was definitely wrong.
"Mrs. Donley? I'm sorry if I am overstepping here, but please if you need to talk about it, I am here to listen."
She gave me a halfhearted smile as a tear fell down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away and said, "Thank you, Steve, I really appreciate that but I'm not sure I even know how to start a conversation with you about what's going on with me or if it would be appropriate here at work like this. Oh, and please, just call me Joan. You calling me Mrs. Donley makes me feel older than I already am."
I moved a little closer to her desk so I could speak a little softer and said, "It's okay, like I said, whatever you need to talk about, the conversation will stay just between us and no other, Joan, and by the way, you're not old by any means, at least not nearly as old as I am.
I offered her a smile after saying that and was at once greeted with that killer smile of hers as she paused to look me over for a moment then replied, "Thanks for that, but lately, I sure am feeling my age, much of it thanks to my husband."
She paused again, looked around me at her opened classroom door and said in a low voice, "Can you close that door, I don't want to chance anyone else hearing me."
I quickly moved and closed the door, then came back over closer to her desk and sat down in one of the student chairs nearby to give her my undivided attention.
Joan looked at me as if she were searching for the right words to say, then looked back down at her desk briefly before looking out her classroom window into the gray cold December sky and asked, "Do you think it will snow for Christmas?"
I sighed a little and replied, "Joan, do you really want to talk about the weather?"
"No, not really," she said shaking her head and I could see a half smile form on her lips from the side of her face. She turned back to me and bluntly asked, "Steve, are you and your wife still intimate?"
I was a little shocked at her question at first, but I had to quickly remind myself that I had asked her to talk, so without hesitation, I replied, "Unfortunately no. That ship sailed years ago when she got religion and decided that intimacy was for procreation only, but what does that have to do with you, Joan?"
She nodded, thought for a moment and said, "I think my husband is cheating on me."
That reply threw me for a bit of a loop because I definitely did not see that one coming.
She went on to explain, "We have not been intimate for months now, and I've tried everything I possibly can to try create that spark that we once had. Tom was always a wonderful lover and we had always had a great sex life, but over the past year his interest has gotten less and less. Like I said, I have tried but he doesn't seem to care so I can only conclude that he is either cheating on me or he just doesn't love me anymore."
After saying that, Joan buried her face into her hands and started to cry softly. Instinctually, I got up and went around the desk to her where I leaned down a little to put my arm around her shoulder, rubbing back and forth to offer her some comfort.
"Joan, I can't understand any man that would want to cheat on you. In just the short time I have known you, I can tell that you are a wonderful caring person, so maybe there is some other reason why he hasn't been interested like maybe something going on with his health?"
Joan shook her head and said, "No, there is nothing wrong with his health. He goes to the gym five days a week and doesn't drink or smoke or anything bad like that. He's the portrait of health next to his old bag of a wife now. God, what am I going to do?"
Joan turned towards me and threw herself against me, buried her face into my abdomen, wrapped her arms around me and sobbed harder. Clearly there was something more going on that I did not know about because what I said to her did not seem to give her any comfort whatsoever.
One thing for sure, though, as she continued hugging me, I could not help but notice how amazing she smelled. It was the scent of summer flowers, like lilacs or something that filled my senses to the point of intoxication. I began running my hand and fingers through the back of her hair to sooth her but again, the smell of her and how tightly she was hugging me, had an effect on me that I clearly did not expect at my age. My cock started to swell with excitement.
I only hoped that Joan, in letting her emotions out, would not feel my rapidly growing erection, inside my work trousers, as she hugged me. Then I realized in the position she was in, her breasts were pressed against the front of my pants where my prick had risen to full mast and was now pressing back against them.
Joan stopped crying and my heart began to pound in my chest with nervousness. She had to have felt my hard on but she continued keeping her head pressed against my abs. The next thing I felt was her dropping one of her arms from around my hips and her hand coming up between us.
I did not move as I felt her fingers move up the front of my pants and over my swollen member where she traced the entire outline of my cock, slowly and methodically. A small gasp escaped me at the pleasure I felt from her gentle touch and soft exploration.
Then she abruptly pulled back and turned away in sudden embarrassment, buried her face in her hands again, saying, "Oh my gosh, Steve. I am so sorry about that. Please forgive me, please, God, I can't believe I just did that. Please don't say anything to anyone, I don't want to get fired."
I didn't move from where I was standing, still just about a foot away from her, with my cock bursting at the seams to be freed from its confines.
"Joan, it's okay. I would never say anything and you don't have to be sorry. I sure didn't expect to get excited like this and I am sure you did not plan to touch me like you did, so please don't worry about it," I said softly and gently placed my hand on her shoulder.
Joan turned and looked up at me with red eyes, her cheeks still stained with tears. Her eyes slowly drifted down and locked on to the bulge still pushing on the front of my pants and her tongue slowly drifted across the edge of her lower lip.
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly before saying, "Steve, I have never been with any other man before and never once thought about cheating on my husband, at least up until now, but feeling you get excited as I hugged you, really made me feel like a desired woman again, even if it was just for a few moments."
I sighed and said, "Joan, you are a beautiful woman and you are VERY desirable. I have never cheated on my wife, either, but I cannot stand here and say that I haven't thought about it because I am definitely thinking about it right now. When a person is neglected by their significant other for long periods of time, it's hard not to expect those thoughts from happening, right?"
Joan looked back up into my eyes and smiled a little before saying, "Thank you for making me feel better, Steve and yes, you are right about those thoughts, for sure. I have to admit, I have been attracted to you from the first time we met but I just kept those feelings hidden but now, I can't help but want your attention."
I leaned down and kissed her soft lips, instantly feeling the electrical impulses of heated desire transfer back and forth between us as her lips parted and our tongues met. Joan moan softly into my mouth and I felt her hand return to the front of my pants to gently massage my raging boner.
I moved my hands down while we got deeper into our kissing and touched her breasts through the material of the sweater she was wearing. Joan jumped at first but then moaned again into me and when my fingers found her very erect nipples pushing out of her bra and sweater, she let out a little whimper of wanton.
Joan reached up to the front of my pants, found my zipper and pulled it down, then quickly pushed her hand inside as we continued to make out. She wasted no time in getting her small hand inside my boxers where she wrapped her nimble fingers around my thick throbbing flesh.
