There was actually a time that I wasn't looking forward to my 45th birthday. Frankly, I don't think I encountered any woman that would.
Perhaps, though, if I could have seen into the future of how it actually did turn out, I might have projected a little more enthusiasm. But at first, it was impending gloom and doom.
After 21 years of marriage, I was recently divorced from my husband, Mike. Things hadn't been that great the last five years or so, but we had tried to make it work until at least our daughter Pamela, 19, graduated from college.
I thought for awhile things might get a bit better; Mike and I had even had a marathon lovemaking session the night before things went to hell.
The bottom had dropped out for me when I had come in from a "girls' day" with my friends the day after we'd had our endless lovemaking session, a little tired from both it and the afternoon with my friends.
I had come into the house to look for Mike, only to find my 47 year old husband having sex on our sofa in the den with a coed that lived up the street, the girl the same age as Pamela.
At least I could give him credit for not fucking her in our marriage bed.
Both hadn't heard nor seen me come in; I decided to wait until he and his teenage whore finished their little encounter, and now both of them fully dressed, they had come out to see me sitting calmly in the living room.
The looks on their faces were priceless; once the girl had made her departure (in a tearing hurry, by the way). I threw his ass out, changed the locks, and, the next day, filed for divorce.
Evidently, he didn't want his little sexual affair with the coed exposed(and who knew how many other women he had humped with before and after the little tramp), so he was quite generous in the settlement with enough alimony coming in that I still didn't have to work, along with the house and Pamela's college expenses paid for.
But the creature comforts didn't make up for my lack of any "action" after my divorce.
Even at 5'5 and naturally a 40D,I was 160 pounds, middle aged with a grown daughter; hardly the young, sexy Barbie type men nowadays were looking for.
Though I was told that I was still pretty by friends, men in my own age bracket--or any guys for that matter-- weren't exactly hitting on me.
Six months after my divorce, my birthday was approaching and, since that last encounter with my ex-husband, haven't been with anyone, not even a one-night stand.
As a result, my vibrator saw a lot of me when I got horny, which was recently quite often.
Maybe my new sexual appetite had something to do with the self-improvement program I'd taken on recently; I'd begun working out with Pamela as well as taken an empowerment course to bolster the self-esteem that had been blown to smithereens when I had seen Mike fucking that young coed in the den.
I'd even had the sofa he and his whore been going at it on burned and replaced with a new one, as well as a new, bigger bed in the master bedroom.
I'd even gone to a club down the street a few times, though I felt a little odd among the younger patrons there.
Men may not have not hit on me there, either, except a few creeps now and again, but that was quickly solved by the bartender I had befriended, John.
I may have not been getting sex then, but I was certainly starting to feel better about myself, even though I was dreading my birthday.
The only good things I thought was going to happen at the time was that Pamela was coming home for that weekend with her boyfriend, and a group of my friends were going on boating excursion that Saturday, including our next door neighbor, who'd recently been separated himself.
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GUY #1: FRIDAY NIGHT
"So what are you doing Friday night?" Pamela asked when she called me that week. "Jason and I won't be in until Saturday morning. Surely you got something to occupy yourself."
I'd just laughed and told her the usual thing I did, leaving out that later that night would probably be spent with the vibrator and a good, quality adult film.
"Oh come on, Mom. You've been working out and looking really nice. You should go out for a couple of hours at least and show yourself off."
I sighed, perhaps my beautiful daughter was right. "All right, I'll go for a drink for an hour or so."
"That's the spirit, Mom! Jason and I will see you Saturday morning."
Saturday, of course, was the dreaded birthday.
When Friday came, I got in some shopping for a new outfit to go out that evening. It was age appropriate, a dress and heels that were sexy without being slutty.
I then went back to the club I had gone to before, eager to show off my new look even though I wasn't expecting anything exciting.
To my amazement and delight, John was behind the bar that night. He was thirty-two, single, blond, six feet, and with a nice athletic build that wasn't too big.
John also had a vibrant personality and was always pleasant, even when he was dealing with obnoxious drunks and creeps that were bothering women.
And of course, the younger women were always trying to flirt with him. I would often tease him about it, even kidding him about taking a girl out back on his breaks. He would shake his head and laugh, saying most of them weren't really his type, but it came with the job.
Long story short, one of them must have been his type, at least for a a very brief period that evening, because shortly after he had gone on his break, he had made his way out back alone--or at least I thought he was alone.
I decided to go out for a bit of air myself, being it was a nice night and the smoke and noise were getting to me just a bit.
I walked around the lot for a bit, catching the fresh air, then came back toward the club to go back in, when I spied some movement and heard low voices at the back of the building when I came around on my way back.
To my shock, there was John, leaning back against the building, his pants down just below his hips and a blond that may have been a few years older than my own daughter squatted before him with her top down, performing oral sex on him!
I stood back a little, frozen, hoping neither would see me, but I couldn't help but watch in amazement as the girl had nearly his entire manhood in her mouth, sucking him greedily.
"That's it," I heard him grunting at her. "Suck it all, you slut. Suck my cock. Come on, make me cum, you whore."
She continued to suck his cock without even taking a breath for awhile longer, his head thrown back and his groans of ecstasy growing a little louder.
"I'm gonna cum," he finally announced.
John then pulled out of her mouth, jerking a large load of semen onto her breasts. She may have liked sucking dick, but evidently wasn't into swallowing cum.
"Oh yeah, you little slut, you like it jacked on those tits, huh?" he grunted as he stroked his cock harder.
She nodded, throwing back her head as John continued to cum all over her large breasts.
When he finally finished, he whipped up his pants and zipped them as the girl wiped off her cum-covered breasts with Kleenex she'd gotten from her purse before pulling up her top.
"Thanks. That was really needed tonight," he told her before he went back inside.
Somehow, I couldn't help but wonder if the girl felt as dirty going through all that as I had watching it happen.
I will admit that though that scene had gotten me a bit horny, John hadn't seemed like the type of guy that would be getting blow jobs from strange women at the back of a building.
But I guess that's how much I can know about people sometimes.
I stayed at the club a bit longer than I'd planned; I'd really gotten into the fun atmosphere as the night progressed.
