I had known Susan for years. We had originally met on a naturist holiday in Spain when we were both happily married. It turned out that Susan and her husband John lived not far from my wife Helen and I and over the years we had all become firm friends. We had a jacuzzi in our garden and Susan and John had a sauna, so we would visit each other at least once a month for some rest and relaxation. Although I found Susan attractive there was never anything even slightly sexual between us.
Susan was a petite lady, only about 5'2" tall with a well-toned athletic body thanks to her daily gym workout and frequent yoga classes. Despite 2 children her small pert breasts didn't need any extra support and were tipped with lovely dark areola and nipples which remained slightly pointed all of the time.
Then last year we had both lost our partners to cancer. For a few months we both left each other alone but eventually I decided that it was time to get on with life. I called Susan and suggested that she come over for a relax in the jacuzzi and then have some supper and if she wanted to have a glass or two of wine then there was always a spare bed available.
The following Saturday Susan arrived about 3 o'clock. It was a nice spring day, so we headed straight for the jacuzzi. As always, we went in naked, much more comfortable than fighting with a swimming costume or anything and as we had known each other for so long there was no hint of shyness between us. It was just like old times, we drank some wine and reminisced about the past and discussed where we thought the future would take us.
After an hour or so basking in the warm water we were suitably relaxed and headed back in doors and sat chatting and generally enjoying each other's company for another couple of hours. It was nice to just relax after all we had both been through over the last few months. All too soon it was time for me to go into the kitchen to start preparing some supper. When I returned I noticed a slightly guilty look on Susan's face.
"Everything OK?" I asked.
"I went to move your laptop and the screen came on," she replied.
I then realised what the problem was. My lock screen was a photo that I had taken of Helen some years ago, lying naked on the bed, her hands tied above her head and wearing a set of tweezer clamps on her nipples.
"Not to worry," I said, "You've seen Helen naked enough times."
"I know but..." She stammered. Just then the timer went off in the kitchen and the conversation was cut short.
We carried on chatting over supper and Susan seemed to have recovered from the shock of seeing her recently deceased friend naked and in a compromising position. During all of the years that we had all known each other I don't think the question of our sex lives had ever even been mentioned. I guess we were of an older generation who just didn't discuss such things.