"When a person does not give up on sex, sex does not give up on the person." (Gabriel Garcia Marquez)
Tania sat on an air mattress beneath the old apricot tree that was one of the trees that constituted the orchard part of the garden. Beyond the orchard and screened from her sight by a high brush fence was the swimming pool from which emanated the cries, squeals and laughter of the young people, Peter, her son's friends.
She thought a trifle enviously of the young girls, their beautiful bodies clad in tiny bikinis, and the young men with their equally scanty swimming shorts through which their virile manhood could to seen clearly outlined.
Later their young bodies would be entwined in acts of love; Peter would have one of the girls stay overnight - she had not denied him that right β and she would hear their soft whispers and then cries and groans of ecstasy.
She would be alone in her bed, her only consolation a dildo. Hers was a self imposed celibacy.
* * * * * * * *
The noise beyond the brush fence began to subside and Tania could hear breathless whispers and an occasional giggle. Then even the whispers ceased and she heard cars being started and then driven away.
Peace reigned and Tania closed her eyes, listening to the buzzing and hum of insects and the flutter of birds in the trees.
She was beginning to drowse as a preliminary to sleep, when she sensed she was not alone. She opened her eyes.
"Alex! I thought you'd all gone."
"No."
He was wearing only his swimming shorts and she could see his penis, erect as it had often been in her presence, straining against the fragile confinement of the cloth.
"Why didn't you go with the others?"
"I think you know why."
Yes, she knew why. This moment had been long coming; it was a moment she had dreaded and yet ached for desperately.
"Yes, I know why, Alex."
She was wearing only a simple shift beneath which she was naked. She took hold of the hem and raised it up, drew the garment over her head and dropped it beside the mattress, and shaking back her ruffled hair lay back again on the mattress
Alex took off his swimming shorts. Tania looked up at him, seeing his long hard penis with its purple heads and light brown shaft. She could see that already there were little drop of pre-cum glistening on its head.
She parted her legs and for a few moments Alex stood looking at her womanhood.
"You're very beautiful," he murmured.
Tania touched the lips of her vulva invitingly; "Yes, darling."
He lay between her wide spread legs, probing for the entrance to her vagina with the head of his penis.
Tania guided him in and as the head of his penis passed over her pubic bone and into the sweet warm depths beyond, he groaned, "I love you...I love you..."
"Oh my darling...my love..." Tania gasped passionately.
* * * * * * * *
Tania first met the ruggedly handsome but surprisingly gentle Alex, at a very vulnerable time in her life. She had been thirty nine when Peter brought him home to meet her. He and Peter were studying chemistry, but Alex was getting near the end of his course, and while Peter intended to follow the track that would lead to research, Alex aimed to become a pharmacist.
It was clear that Peter liked and admired Alex, and soon Alex had joined the group of young people β Peter's friends.
Although it was clear that Alex was well received within the group, he seemed to stand a little apart from them.
At first Tania thought that this was because he was slightly older than the other members of the group, but as she got to know Alex she realised it might have something to do with his background.
He did not know his birth mother or father, and had been brought up in a number of foster homes. Some of those homes had been either hopelessly inadequate or outright abusive, at one point leading to a public scandal.
Intelligent and determined Alex had battled his way through to university, but his experiences had left him a trifle wary of people, and unwilling to commit himself too deeply to a relationship.
Tania was able to sympathise with him because she too had experienced difficulties in her life.
At thirty nine, on the surface she looked like a minor success story. The owner of a flourishing beauty salon business, with no lack of money, and herself a woman of considerable beauty, that success had cost her two failed marriages.
With the forties looming she was questioning whether it had all been worthwhile. When she had first started the salon at the age of twenty five she had flung herself into making it a success and had become obsessive about it.