As this story wrote itself, over many of often stressed hours, it became clear that its length would far exceed the compactness of erotic stories that most Literotica readers seem to prefer. Neither did the nature of the story lend itself to be divided up into consecutively offered shorter chapters.
Being a humble writer at the mercy of my readers, I apologize for the threatening length of the two parts of my story.
I await -- still hopefully -- your marks of possible approval and comments.
1990.
In January 1990, Ben was happily on his own. He was determined to spend the summer break writing two long planned articles about the imposed and voluntary censorship of sex in literature.
His wife had left him and Thomas ten years ago in possession of their heavily mortgaged home, for the greener pastures offered by a wealthy businessman. While not celibate or wearily hostile to women, Ben had avoided any long-term relationships since.
Thomas, a research-chemist, was on a year's study leave in the States, when a phone call broke his monkish isolation:
"Hello, Ben!... It's me, Hilda.... I'm in Australia!"
Chatting brightly, she told him she had come to visit and stay a while with her brother. She was very disappointed to find out, that Josef and Ben were no longer in touch and that she would not see him.
She was going home now and would come to Melbourne to arrange her return flight. Would he like to see her? Once in Melbourne, she would ring him up from her hotel.
He immediately told her that he would pick her up from the bus. If she trusted him, he had three empty bedrooms waiting for her in his house.
Hilda burst into a giggle; it sounded very young and excited:
"Trust You?... Trust myself?... With our past, could we ever?... I'll let you know when I come."
When the bus from Mansfield pulled into the terminal, Hilda, after having a long look at him through the coated windows, was the last to step out. She was pleased with what she had seen and with a broad smile, as Ben quickly recognized her, rushed into his arms.
Hilda had aged beautifully; her once impish face had matured into a good-humored one, with barely rouged, kissable lips and laugh-wrinkles in the corners of her eyes. Although her body seemed not as lithe as he remembered, the few extra pounds had all settled in the right places. Ben was sure that her tight trousers and clingy top -- it was a warm day - were knowingly worn to show off her far from matronly figure.
Neither did she hold it shyly back when they embraced and both, stuttering to find the right words, said how wonderful it was to see each other again after all these years.
In the car she straight-out explained what had brought her to Australia.
Without feigning grief, she told him that Hans, after being incapacitated by a stroke, had died ten months ago. Her son Max was a teacher in Salzburg, married, with one child, and she, having to vacate her flat in K., had shifted to Salzburg too.
Grinning at him in her old impish way, she declared:
"So, you see your childhood sweetheart is now both a grandma and a widow. She has naughtily left the grandma back home to visit her far-away, long-time lover. She had hoped that a holiday with him, would turn her into a merry widow." She grinned, "I'll never marry again; marriage is bad for good sex!"
Then she explained how Josef had frustrated this main wish for her coming. She had not known that he and Josef were no longer friends. Wanting to avoid meeting Ben again, he did not want to give her his address and phone number either.
In addition, Hilda suspected that Josef's wife had planned -- with her being a poor widow -- that she would stay with them to work in their 7 days/16 hours hospitality business as an unpaid for partner.
"To escape I had to lie." Hilda admitted:
"I told them I had already booked my flight home!... Being so busy in their shop as well as cross, they were glad when I did not want to be farewelled by them in Melbourne."
She laughed:
"I have not yet booked my return flight!... And now I hope to enjoy a merry widow-holiday in Melbourne with you!... After all, you once wanted to take me away from my husband for a sinful week in Innsbruck, remember?... Or are you with somebody; is it too late to make up for what we missed then?"
Ben had just pulled into his drive. He turned off the ignition. Then, putting on a serious face, Ben leant over to Hilda and muttered:
"There is nobody, Hilda, but you and I now! And there is no woman I'd rather spend a sexy holiday with than you!... How long can you stay?"
"I am expected home.... A fortnight,... three weeks, perhaps?"
Hilda had unbuckled her seatbelt. As she knelt up on her seat to kiss Ben, he reached across and pulled her onto his lap. They sank into a far from tentative sensual kiss. With his hands clasping Hilda's now more voluptuous ass and she, moaning and squashing her breasts onto his chest, they were a picture of sexual need that put the lie to their age.
"You may have to put me on my plane by force!... There is so much for me to catch up on; just you wait!"
"What a promise!... When can we start?"
Hilda laughed. As an answer she wriggled her ass in Ben's hands, which in turn rubbed her very alive pussy against his ready awakened cock.
Eventually, they decided that with beds in the house waiting for them to romp in, there was no need to do it -- like randy teenagers - in the confines of the car. But when Ben took Hilda's luggage to her room, she looked -- was it reproachfully or remembering their night fifteen years ago -- at the single bed.
