It sucks to get old. When the old calendar ticked to the sixty mark this year it was almost terrifying. Not that I look that old. Most people that see us often guess we're in our late forties at most. My wife still looks every bit as good to me as the day we got married. Well shaped, a bit more sag in the fun bags, but almost no gray in her short cropped brown hair. I have a little gray happening, but only enough to tint my side burns and a little up the sides. Thank god I haven't started to loose any!
I don't feel that old either. A little slower in my step, but hey, just makes me work smarter rather than harder. Working around young college students has done wonders for making me stay young. Hard to see the young ladies walking around in tight yoga pants, shorts or very short skirts and NOT feel a little bit like chasing skirts. But hey, I like my job and wouldn't even think of jeopardizing it for a piece of ass.
My marriage is the same way. My wife and I have been together for over thirty-five years and I'm not about to throw that away chasing a piece of sexy little tail. Not that I haven't had opportunities. My wife works with quite a few younger women and we've always "entertained" them at pool parties at our house, bar-b-que's, trips to the lake with our boat, staff Christmas parties and other such events to help build and maintain comradery with her team. We've done the same with a pretty large block of personal friends, some from, literally, on the block, and others spread around town. These parties have provided quite a smorgasbord of sexy bodies in tiny bikinis, short skirts and occasionally revealing costumes for me to ogle. I've always kept my hands to myself, if not my eyes, and I'm quite confident my wife has as well.
But getting old does have its price. In the last year, we've had to go to no less than three funerals for friends that passed much younger than they should have. The last, a few months ago, seemed to hit my wife exceptionally hard. Angela had been a friend for well over twenty years when breast cancer took her. My wife had that scare many years ago with another part of the female anatomy, which resulted in a stressful surgery and months of watching and worrying. Thankfully that event turned out as well as one could expect, though now she was missing a number of lady parts, which adversely impacted her hormone levels. It was only through rigorous workouts and careful attention to her calorie intake that she was able to maintain her trim figure.
After Angela passed, it seemed like my wife spent a lot of time dwelling on what would happen to me if something like that happened to her. Every time she asked, I assured her that I'd be fine, but that there was no need to worry about it. She was fine and there was no need to borrow trouble. At the same, I couldn't help but notice that some of her behaviors seemed to be changing. She'd taken to consuming a surprising variety of herbal supplements for her health, and she seemed to be more preoccupied of late with sex. Not that we didn't have an active sex life, but in the last couple months she seemed more preoccupied with sex, and in particular, with providing me opportunities for more and varied encounters. I also couldn't help but notice that she went shopping with friends more frequently, her wardrobe seeming to shrink, not in number of items, but in skirt length. Her nearly knee length dresses now barely came to the middle of her thighs. Not that I was complaining, since she has pretty spectacular looking legs. On more than one occasion, I've noticed much younger guys watching her walk past.
Being a good husband I also help with the laundry, and in doing so couldn't help but notice that in the last few weeks her underwear selections seemed to be getting skimpier. I'm not talking just about those times when she's trying to seduce me, but those she wears on a regular basis. No I don't mean skimpier in numbers, but in coverage. Most of what she was now wearing regularly were either lacy or partly see-through and covered MUCH less than what she had been wearing for the last few years. She hadn't quite graduated to thong panties, but the bikini panties she had taken to were extremely attractive and quite pleasantly revealing. Her bra's also were lacier and seemed to cover less than what she used to wear.
In all the years that I'd known my wife, I never knew her to make any significant deviations from the norm without a plan. When she started exercising years ago, she had specific goals and a specific plan on how to get there. It was just how she worked, both at home and at work. So I had to assume she again had a plan of some kind, though she wouldn't give me the slightest hint what it was. None the less, I was sure she had an idea of what she wanted and how she expected to get there. Now all I had to do was figure out what it was and enjoy the ride.
It was a Tuesday night. Nothing particularly unusual to note. We'd eaten dinner and my wife was busy washing up the dinner dishes while I headed to the den to do some work on my laptop. I heard the doorbell and ignored it, knowing my wife was only a few feet from the back door while she worked in the kitchen. The fact that the doorbell had even rung was almost lost to me half an hour later as I worked on the correct wording for a proposal that was due in only a few days.
"Hey sweetie. Sue and I are going out. Thought you might like to put away that stuffy work and come with us?" my wife said as she stepped into the den, Suzanne, one of her thirty something friends from at work following close behind. I looked up at them from my computer and did a quick double take.
My wife had changed her clothes, wearing a formfitting navy blue wrap-around dress that I'd never seen before. The material of the skirt portion crossed in front of her, barely coming down to the middle of her thighs. If anything, it was a good two or three inches shorter than the dress she'd worn to work that day, which was already enticingly short. The smooth satin-like material seemed surprisingly thin as it crossed itself over her chest, creating a deep V of cleavage three quarters of the way down her front before wrapping around and tying to itself on her left hip. The thin material allowed the shape of her full double D breasts to be fully outlined, along with two bumps of her obviously hard nipples. The depth of the V down the front clearly precluded any bra, which was confirmed by the subtle wiggle of her breasts as she shifted from high heel clad foot to foot in front of me. The dress gave me the clear impression that if she bent too far her breasts would tumble right out the front of the dress for me.
Suzanne, standing slightly behind her, had on an equally short strapless body hugging dress whose bright yellow seemed to make her already well-formed chest seem even larger. Her long, slender legs were encased in a pair of nude color stockings that had to be pulled all the way up to her crotch to keep the lacy tops from showing under the incredibly short, formfitting skirt. My mind briefly wondered if she could even bend over without showing off everything before I realized that my wife was in a similar position, with the V of overlapping material threatening to expose her from the front if it pulled up much higher, and the short hem likely to pull right up her ass if she did bend over.
"What are we going out for?" I asked as I closed my laptop and set it aside.
"Oh, just something special for you," my wife said with a grin, reaching up to her chest and giving her big breasts a gentle lift with her hands through the satin like material.
"I see. Any hint on what it is?" I asked, feeling my dick harden in my pants as I watched her play with her own breasts for a few moments.
"If you want to know, you'll have to come with us, won't you?" she said with a devious little smile. "You like what I'm wearing?"
"I do. I haven't seen that one before."
"Sue just loaned it to me. Said it was perfect for tonight."
"Well, it looks perfect on you. I like the look of no bra."
"That's not all I'm missing," she answered, letting her breasts go and sliding her hands down to the short hem where the two wraps of material crossed in front of her crotch. She grasped the two halves of the skirt material and lifted, raising the hem and the slight V caused by the overlapping layers until I could see that she was standing with only the dress on and no panties at all.
"Good lord sweetie!" I said as I stared at her bare pussy. Not that I hadn't seen it before. Hell I'd seen it almost every day. I just wasn't used to seeing her ready to go out anyplace without underwear on.
"What?" she asked innocently.
"No panties? At all?"
She grinned back at me. "It was Sue's idea. She said she goes without any time she has a dress on. Makes her sooo horny by the end of the day."
"So you thought you'd try it?" I asked, my dick hardening even more in my pants as I looked over at Sue's short skirt and thought about her having no panties on either.
My wife walked over to me, letting go of her skirt as she moved, her tits wiggling side to side as she stepped toward me in her four inch heels. She reached out for my hand and pulled it to her thigh as she stepped next to my recliner and slid it up her thigh until my fingers touched her bare pussy lips. "Do I feel as wet to you as I do to myself?" she asked in almost a whisper.
I really couldn't help myself as I pressed my finger up against her pussy lips and let it slip between her copious delicate inner lips that protruded from her full round outer lips. I could feel her hot wetness envelope the side of my finger as I stroked it gently, between her lips. I rubbed my finger to and fro between her lips, the side of my finger stroking against her already engorged clit. "Oh yeah." I breathed quietly. "You sure you wanna go out and not just take that off right here?"
"Tempting. But then I wouldn't get that surprise for you," she said a little breathlessly.
"I personally think this is plenty of a surprise."
