When he died she thought her world had come to an end. He was only 42,the same age as herself and he had battled with his illness bravely for the past 6 years. She had been the devoted wife, nursing him, caring for him, always there for him.
He had been her first real boyfriend. They had grown up together in a quiet country village, dated and then married and lived all their married life on his family farm.
Their lives were quiet and uncomplicated. Devoted to each other. Their courtship was traditional and their was no question of sex before the wedding night. He was always gentle and they quickly settled into a routine, enjoying each others bodies every 2 to 3 weeks. she never knew nor wanted anything more. Even in the past 6 years as his illness meant no physical pleasure she put it out of her mind and banished any small lingering need she felt.
6 months after his death she sold the farm, moved away from the village and the raw memories. She bought herself an apartment in the city and got involved with some charity work, money was not a concern for her.
One day she looked at her pale complexion in the mirror, told herself she needed some sunshine and a holiday. Next day she got a good deal to the South of Spain and flew off, alone, for 2 weeks.
The weather was beautiful, the hot sun cheered her mood and she relaxed, enjoyed the climate and watching the world going on about her.
She hired a car to get away from the busy beaches and drove a short distance down the coast and found a secluded cove. It was early, the beach deserted and she settled herself to enjoy the day.
She tied up her jet black hair. Applying the sun cream she complimented herself that at 42 she was still in reasonable shape although she thought her bikini bottoms rather tight on her bum. Need to lose some weight there she told herself.
As was common practise on the Spanish beaches she shed her bikini top and rubbed oil into her breasts which were starting to tan nicely after the few days already. Her breasts were heavy. 36D but no longer as firm as her younger days and they sagged forward, her big nipples were pink in contrast to the tanned flesh around them.
She lay back and closed her eyes, dozing off to sleep in the morning sun.
Voices woke her after a while and she noticed a few other groups of people had taken up places on the beach. She watched them settle, young couples, some older couples and a group of girls and men in their mid-20's.
Then, to her surprise she realised some had stripped off completely and that clearly this beach was used by nudists. She smiled to herself remembering how her husband would have reacted, disapproved.
She thought of packing her things, leaving, but the thought of climbing back up those steps in the heat dissuaded her. So she lay, behind her dark glasses observing the activity on the beach.
It was fun, amusing, people watching. Observing differing shapes and statures. Close to her the group started throwing a ball about. She lay watching the young girls, their breasts bouncing freely, and the men, their various sizes swinging as they ran. Further away an older man stood alone, looking out at the sea. He had grey hair, his body sagging, but Susan found herself admiring the proud cock between his legs.
She blushed slightly, surprised at herself. Decided to walk down to the sea to cool off. She walked, strangely conscious not of others nudity but of the bikini bottoms hiding part of her from view.
She dipped in the cold water, enjoyed the invigorating freshness of it. She swam for a bit, then stepped out, the water dripping from her wet body. To dry off in the sun she decided to walk around the rocks a little.
The sun felt good as she walked and she picked her way around the rocks through tiny coves amongst them.
As she rounded the last outcrop she was surprised to come across a man sitting alone on a rock. It was the older man, from the beach. She had not noticed him leaving as she swam.
He stood, spoke to her. Out of politeness she responded and they made small talk. Her all the time conscious of his nudity and of his occasional glance at her breasts.
After a while she relaxed, they sat chatted. Small talk at first but then she was aware of a subtle change. He complimented her on her looks then on her body. Asked why she did not slip off her bikini bottoms and conform with the others around on the beach.
To her horror when she looked down his cock was hard and erect, his hand stroking it slowly as he looked at her. In her mind she was startled but somehow she found some part of her looking at its size, width, even admiring.
The touch of his hand on her breast brought her to her senses and she jumped up, told him she could not, had to go. He just sat, smiled, his hand moving gently on his erection as he watched her leave.
Back at the beach, she pulled her things into a bag and ran up the steps to her car. She sat trembling, shocked but also aware of an interest, desire she had not experienced for a very long time.
Back in her hotel room she showered and calmed herself. As she lay naked on the bed her mind returned to the beach and she felt her fingers moving through her thick black bush, seeking out her clit and gently rubbing it.
She closed her eyes, visions of the young couples cavorting on the beach then of the anonymous man and his desire for her filled her head. Her orgasm surprised her, fast and intense leaving her trembling and satisfied.
That evening she dined alone as usual. Read her book at a roadside bar as she watched people passing. Found herself watching the couples, envious, reminded of her own loneliness.
Later, before bed, she stopped at hotel bar for a nightcap. The bar was quiet as usual, except for three youngish lads who she had seen a few times around the hotel and the pool. With them were two girls, German she guessed. She sat quietly as they laughed and joked.
She realised that 2 of the lads were with the 2 girls and when they decided to move on, the third guy was left alone.
He sat down the bar from her and she was surprised when he moved up her and introduced himself. Maybe she had drunk more wine than usual but she accepted his offer of a drink and then later insisted on returning the compliment. However the bar had closed and the only drink to be had was in the disco downstairs.
She apologised to him but he was having none of it and insisted they have their night cap downstairs.
The disco was dark, the music alien to her and she realised she was the oldest there by about 10 years. They sat with their drinks trying to be heard over the music.
The wine again, she reasoned, as she found herself accepting his offer of a dance. She did feel young, free, as she tried to keep in time with the rhythm.
Then the music slowed. She moved to return to her seat but he beckoned for her to stay, held out his arms.
