Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction concocted entirely within my imagination. Any resemblance to real people shouldn't be surprising since most of my stories are based on people I know. While I hope you enjoy this story and are compelled to provide feedback, I don't expect the subject matter will appeal to everyone who reads it. As such, I discourage venomous, nasty feedback full of violent wishes against essentially fictional characters in fictional situations. If this story does not appeal to you, there is undoubtedly one somewhere on Literotica that will, so your energy will be better spent on finding it rather than on vilifying me.
Note: If you haven't already, read the Cornhusker Girl stories, which are prequels to this story.
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I was sitting on the back porch of my wife's uncle's house in western Nebraska, enjoying the sun and unseasonably warm temperature along with a cold beer and a cigar. It was Saturday afternoon and we'd been out hunting pheasant since early that morning but, after lunch, my father-in-law and his brothers had decided a power nap was in order. I decided instead to take advantage of perhaps my last opportunity for a few months to sit outside in just cargo pants and a t-shirt. From where I sat, I could look over at the only nearby house, which was right across the street that ran alongside my wife's uncle's house. It had been obvious when we'd arrived the previous evening that a significant amount of work had been done on the house since I'd been there in November the year before.
As I thought about it, I could only remember one time in all of the years that I'd been coming up to Nebraska for the annual pheasant hunting trip that anyone had lived in that house and, even then, it had looked pretty run down. Now, though, it looked almost like the house that had been there had been replaced by a new house. I was really impressed and made a mental note to ask my wife's uncle about it. I was even more impressed when I saw a woman coming from that house toward me, mainly because she had a nice, tight body. In fact, I was so focused on admiring her body through my dark sunglasses that I didn't realize until she was across the road that she was silver-haired and much older than her body suggested. Despite being much older, I also realized as she got closer, that she was quite attractive and reminded me a bit of Helen Mirren.
I figured that she was stopping in to see my wife's Aunt Debbie so I was just going to say hello and check out her figure as she went into the house. She was wearing yoga pants and sneakers along with a light jacket that didn't quite hide that she had a substantial rack. I was surprised when, instead of heading inside or knocking on the door, she came right up to me.
"And who might you be?" she asked, sticking out her hand. I quickly set my beer and cigar down and shook her hand while explaining my connection to her closest neighbors. Just as my attention had been drawn to her chest, which I'd hoped my sunglasses had hidden, I noticed that her gaze went to my chest. I had been wearing a hoodie over my compression shirt when we'd gone out that morning, not expecting the weather to warm up enough that I'd be shedding the hoodie, but as the day had warmed up I was soon down to just the compression shirt. I had been working out pretty hard in the months prior to the hunting trip, so I had no reason to be shy about wearing such a tight-fitting top, but I hadn't been expecting anyone I didn't know to see me in it.
"So you're married to Allen's daughter?" she asked, grasping the connection, "I'd say that she's a lucky lady."
She gave me the once over and I could tell by her tone and the look on her face that she was flirting. I figured there was no harm in flirting back, especially since I didn't really see this going beyond that.
"I suspect that your husband is an extremely lucky man, as well," I said in return.
"If we hadn't just met," she replied, "I might be insulted since my husband is dead."
"Oops," I said, smiling since she'd smiled when she said it, "Well then let me correct that to say that whoever is currently enjoying your company is extremely lucky."
"Well that would be either Mr. Duracell or Mr. Energizer," she replied and, in response to my surprised look at that revelation, asked, "Does it surprise you that I'm horny?"
"No," I replied honestly, "but it does surprise me that no one is helping you take care of your needs."
"Please," she said, "I'm just an old lady. The men my age can't keep up, most of the men your age are too out of shape and the younger men are put off by my age."