Is there any better feeling than finishing work early on a sunny midweek afternoon? Nope, there is not. You know, when you pack up your desk at twelve and look at all those sad little, envious faces watching you walk, well, skip, out between the rows of desks and head for the exit door and an afternoon of pure, undisturbed you-time. Well, I was about to find out.
I popped the roof down on my little old MX-5, slipped on my white Wayfarers and once my phone had linked, I headed out of the car park, ABBA blasting out, as the wind blew my long red hair in all directions. Freedom was finally mine.....
The kitchen door slammed shut behind me with the assistance of the light warm breeze, making me jump and then laugh out loud. I dropped my bag and coat on the nearest available worktop and slipping, then kicking off my heels, I headed through to the hallway and up the stairs to the bedroom, where, as I stripped, I flung my clothes like a moody teenager across the floor and bed.
The shower was to die for. It washed all over my warm skin taking away any thoughts of offices, sweaty old male colleagues, angry emails and petty squabbles over who had or hadn't washed their coffee cups. Stepping back from the powerful rush of hot water, I leaned back on the tiles, reached down, and worked up a good soft, bubbly lather around my pussy, she was in need of a shave. Oooh that felt good as I 'juddered' with the first feelings of pleasure, as a bubbly finger slipped from around, to between my lips, teasing my clitty. Then, taking the razor I carefully began to shave back to how I like it, smooth, soft and oh so lickable. As I shave my pussy every day or two, it didn't take long and so sliding my fingers across it, to check she was indeed all smooth, I returned to the shower, letting the hot cascade wash the bubbles away. I gasped loudly as I spread my lips to the water's force, my clit aching and begging for more attention.
As I towel-dried my hair and puffed out a breath that felt like it said 'all done now you can just relax girl', I smiled as I caught my reflection in the long mirror on the back of the bathroom door. 'Hmmm, not bad for a lady of nearly fifty.' I mused. My big heavy tits still stood quite proudly out as I cupped them in both hands, rolling my cold erect nipples between thumbs and forefingers, making them pucker up even more, sending a shiver through my body. My toned, long legs were in great shape too, though I say it myself. That spin-bike was doing wonders for them, I thought, as I turned them this way and that admiringly. Even my stomach was still small and flat enough to not cause 'muffin-tops' when I wore tight jeans. So, as I say, not bad at all girl...
I tripped through into the bedroom and finished roughly drying my hair before dropping the towel on the floor and reaching inside the wardrobe door to gather up my soft, snug bathrobe. Oh, it felt good on my cooling naked skin and as I wrapped its comforting fabric around me, a tingle of pleasure ran up my spin, making me smile...It was time!
The sun-lounge at the rear of the house was warm, not hot, just pleasantly warm as I plonked myself down on the small two-seat sofa and carefully placed my large glass of chilled white wine and my paperback on the coffee table, making sure it was all within lazy, easy reach, before shifting the numerous cushions around to ensure maximum comfort as I reclined back and into the warming rays of the afternoon sunshine that burst through the ceiling glass.
I popped the door from the sun-lounge out into the small shady back garden open and as I sipped my wine and read slowly through my latest rom-com paperback, the breeze fluttered in cooling my exposed feet and calves, like a gentle massage. Oh this was good, this was really, really good, but it was not perfect. No, at times like this I needed a little, well, you know, me time. Well in truth, a little, me, pleasure time. The sort of slow, lingering, fingering pleasure only a woman can give herself. Unless she's blessed with a very intimate female friend that is....just saying....
The wine was or is that had taken full effect now and I was slipping into a warm and relaxing oasis of pleasure as I fumbled loose the knot on my bathrobe and allowed it to slip open, exposing my naked body to the warm sun and cooling breeze. I guided, eyes closed, the wine glass back, with a gentle, 'clink' as it made reassuring contact with the glass table top, and then let the book fall to the floor. I was now ready and able to let my hands explore. The sunlight now dappled through the Beech trees in the garden cast dancing shadows on my thighs as they slipped and fell slightly wider apart, exposing my freshly shaved pussy to the breeze and my eager fingers.
Ooooh, this was good, this was proper good, I sighed loudly as I began a ritual that I had perfected over the years when masturbating alone. Firstly, I sucked the index finger of my right hand, leaving a good amount of warm saliva on it to make sure it was nicely, warm, wet and fully lubed up. Then softly and gently I parted my slightly swollen and now sensitive pussy lips with the index and next fingers of my left hand, exposing my inner lips and open pussy to the warmth of the afternoon sun.
I needn't have wet my finger, I smiled, as I was more than a little wet already, in truth I was sopping. It slid with subtle ease over and across my soft juice slicked folds, parting my lips as it made its way slowly up, around and onto my clit, where it pressed a little harder as it began to take me away, far, far away from reality.
