This is the second and final chapter of my true story, it was written for mature women by a mature woman. I am willing to bet that there are many women out there just like me who are over 60 years old, divorced, widowed or single by choice that just don't think that they are sexually desirable any longer. I am here to tell you that is a lot of hooey. I know this because until my 62nd birthday I felt the same way.
My husband of 40 years died of a massive heart attack when I was 58. I spent the entire next year angry at the world and the following year feeling sorry for myself. The third year I began to heal and started getting on with the rest of my life, which brings me to the beginning of my story.
At the ripe old age of 61 I started going to the gym and lost 35 pounds, had highlights put in my hair, went to a vascular surgeon and got rid of my varicose veins. I was about to have my 62nd birthday and I wanted to feel good about ME! Oh, now don't get me wrong I was still no beauty queen, I had a few more pounds to lose and I definitely had my share of wrinkles, but I was feeling better about myself than I had in years.
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The pretty little patio home next door sold almost before anyone knew it was on the market. The new neighbors were moving in yesterday and like all nosy neighbors I spent most of the day peeking out of a window trying to catch a glimpse of the new owners. They looked to be an average family in their late 30's to early 40's. The wife was tall and rather slim, the husband was about 6' with a few extra pounds around the middle and their son was pretty much average looking and in his early teens.
The new family quickly became the topic of discussion among the older residents. It seems the husband worked for a TV station as the general manager, the wife worked mostly from home as a marketing consultant and their son was supposedly an outstanding golfer and good student.
I had been in the house many times in previous years and was familiar with the floor plan, but I was dying to see how they had it decorated. So, here I went with my fudge brownies in hand as my standard welcome to the neighborhood gift. She opened the door with a big southern smile and quickly invited me in. The husband was working so she, I and the boy all went to the kitchen for a brownie. After a lot of idle chit chat she offered me a tour of the 2400 square foot one level home. It was decorated beautifully with expensive furniture and was the standard floor plan with the master bedroom at one end and the other 2 bedrooms on the other end of the house separated by a Jack and Jill bath.
It was late May and we were starting to have nice warm days. I was working in the natural area that separates the two houses when I noticed movement in one of the Jack and Jill bedroom windows. I didn't want to stare, so I frequently pretended to wipe the hair from my eyes and eventually got a good look at the figure behind the partially opened blinds. It was the boy, Jason and he was completely nude and masturbating.
Talk about the shoe being on the other foot, this was the first time a man had ever flashed or exposed himself to me. Now I knew what the people I had exposed myself to had felt. God, it was just as exciting as being the one doing the act. I thought back to the few time I had exposed. What sort of reaction was I looking for when I caught them looking? I wanted to know that they saw me and that they wanted to see more.
So, I repeatedly took my time and looked both ways before returning my eyes back to his window. He often looked my way to see if I was watching and by now I was making it obvious that I wanted to watch him perform.
Jason was 5' 10", 15 years old with black hair and was slender. I never could estimate penis size but his looked fairly thick and reached almost to his navel and it was glistening with precum. Suddenly the look on his face changed and he stopped looking toward me and stared directly at his penis. Within seconds he stuck his penis between the blinds and spewed squirt after squirt of cum on the window. It was quite obvious that he wanted me to see his happy ending. He closed the blinds and I rushed inside to masturbate.
The next few days became quite interesting. I would pretend to work in the natural area and he would appear in his bedroom window and masturbate until he spewed his seed on the window.
I loved watching Jason masturbate but as the new wore off he came to his window a lot less and by the time Fall rolled around he stopped all together. In mailbox conversation, his mother told me that Jason was madly in love with a girl from school. So, I assumed she was now the lucky recipient of his sexual focus.
I was standing there looking at myself in the mirror, thinking about becoming 63 and how much my life had changed over the last year. I smiled to myself, because I really liked the new me. But, maybe a little cosmetic surgery of Botox would be a nice gift to me, after all I had just had a physical exam and the only medication I was taking was a baby aspirin. Heck, I thought, I may be good for another 20 years. So, off I went.
I had a slight face lift, complete with eyes, neck and liposuction. Oh my god, I have never felt so much pain in my life. I was taking all the morphine they would give me. It was awful, but the results were great. Thank goodness, I didn't end up with that surprised look that so many face lifts cause. However, several months later I looked and felt great. The time I put in at the fitness center had significantly improved my skin and muscle tone. All of my friends were so supportive and told me that I looked more like 50 than my 63 years.
One of the things that you should know about an exhibitionist is that we are always seeking opportunities to utilize or talents. I had truly become obsessed with the power that comes with exposing ones self. And I was actually becoming much more selective about who I showed my vagina to. First I had to determine why I wanted them to see. Did I just want to use it for foreplay prior to masturbation or was I actually attempting to seduce the person for a sexual liaison. That becomes very important when it comes to age; after all I had no intention of having sex with a minor. But I have to admit teenagers, male or female were the most interested in the spectacle unfolding before them.
Fall was over and virtually all the leaves had fallen and it was time to get the gutters cleaned. The company that my late husband had always used was out of business, just my luck. So, I called the lesbian window cleaner that had cleaned my windows a few months earlier and asked if she provided that service. She said that she did and would be happy to do it next week.
The following week she showed up with leaf blower in hand, within no time she was finished and ringing my doorbell. I invited her into the kitchen asked her if she would like a cup of coffee while I wrote the check. She seemed more relaxed than the last time we had met. I can still remember that she was the only person that I had exposed myself to that gave absolutely no reaction, none what so ever. I was shocked and actually a little hurt; after all I was told that she was a lesbian. Why didn't she show some interest?
"You look different, have you lost some weight," she said?
