I've always felt attracted to younger men.
Some time ago, there was family living next to me in our small neighborhood. This was several years after my husband had died. I'd finally begun to feel somewhat whole again and yet the loneliness was getting me down. I had sexual cravings I hadn't felt in a long time and thought I'd go crazy if they weren't satisfied by someone, and soon.
One of the boys in the family was college age, tall and athletic, a good looking young man. He was home from school for the summer and occasionally I'd see him in the yard, shirtless, in a pair of shorts or bathing suit. I became very attracted to him, at night imagining us together in all kinds of situations. Many days I'd stand at my window and watch him for minutes at a time, feeling somewhat ashamed of myself for spying, but unable to look away, all the while the heat in my belly building. My breasts would ache at the sight of his lithe body and I would often feel damp between my legs afterward. It surprised me, my reaction to him. After all, I was a middle-aged widow. My husband and I had enjoyed a rich and adventurous sexual relationship. There had never been a lack of attention from my husband, or other men for that matter. Why was I so attracted to this so much younger man?
Nevertheless I found myself seeking out ways to cross paths with him, at the shops or in the park, over the fence, anything. At times, my flirting with him seemed pretty shameless. I remember wondering if anyone was beginning to notice. By the end of summer I was desperately trying to think of some sort of way to be alone with him in my home. He would be leaving again for college very soon. It was now or never.
Since my husband's accident, the family next door had been very helpful to me, sending the boys over to do odd jobs, anytime I needed a hand. I thought that might be my chance. There were a number of boxes in the spare bedroom that needed storing properly. I had put some things away to get the room ready for guests over the coming holiday season. Now I had a number of cartons that belonged up in the attic. I could have done it myself but it seemed the perfect opportunity.
One day in early autumn I decided it was time to try. I took a long hot bath that morning, making sure my legs were shaved, even trimming that little auburn triangle of hair between my thighs. It had been a long time since I knew I might be revealing my nude body to someone and I wanted to be ready, physically and mentally. I spent some time getting dressed, a little provocatively, but trying not to be too obvious about it. My wardrobe shows that I've always been proud of my figure and I made sure that day would be no exception. I chose a dark, pleated short skirt and natural-tone stay-up stockings that were very sheer, dark high heeled pumps, a white button-front blouse over a silk camisole. I'm fifty-three years old and pretty much average in every way. Except for my breasts, that is. Even as a teenager they never matched the rest of me. Sometimes that has been a problem but I've often noticed the boys eyeing my overly full bust and I knew I was a target of adolescent curiosity. I can only imagine what conversations took place at night in the boys' bedroom. So, I dabbed a couple of finishing touches to my make-up, brushed out my hair (no grey yet!) and walked over to the house next door. The way my breasts swayed under the thin fabric aroused my nipples to such a degree that was impossible to ignore.
I rang the doorbell. There was a lengthy pause. I rang again and slowly the door creaked open. It was Jamie, the older brother that I had been watching all summer. He wore a wrinkled old t-shirt and a pair of loose, thin sweatpants. A shiver ran up my spine and my nipples swelled even more. He had been sleeping, which meant his parents must have gone away for the weekend or something as they would never have allowed him to stay in bed to this late hour. His eyes grew wide as he realized who I was.
"Oh! Oh hi, Mrs. B. Sorry I took so long."
"No worries, Jamie. I'm sorry for waking you," I replied with a little grin. I hoped to God I wouldn't start blushing or anything girlish like that. "I came over to ask if you might be able to give me a hand with a chore I have at home. Are you free for a little while?" All the time I was speaking, his eyes kept dropping down to my chest. He was trying to be discrete but was failing terribly.
"Sure, no problem, Mrs. B. I'll be over in a sec."
"Great! Thanks, Jamie. Just come as soon as you can. I'll be in the back hall." I hurried home and opened the back door. I stopped at the hall mirror to make sure all was well. The satiny fabric of my blouse plainly showed my erect nipples. I undid one more button and bent over in front of the mirror. My blouse gaped open, revealing a generous amount of my breasts and the deep cleavage between them. I wanted to be sure Jamie would get a good view if I had a chance to bend over in front of him.
I heard footsteps on the back step and turned to the door. He hadn't done anything but throw on a pair of sandals. I had a sense that he had been in a hurry to get here.
"Hi Jamie, come in", I smiled, opening the door for him. "Just follow me." I headed for the spare room, walking a little way in front of him, adding an extra bit of swing in my hips. Actually the high heels didn't give me much other choice. "I feel kind of silly, being dressed like this to do housework but I've got to go out very soon and I won't have a chance to get this done before the weekend." Jamie didn't respond. As we passed by a curio cabinet, I saw his reflection in the glass. He appeared to be staring hard at my legs, one hand griping his crotch.
I had piled at least a dozen boxes in the bedroom, near the attic hatchway. We had several stepladders and I had chosen one of the shortest so I would have to stretch to reach the opening. It was already set up. I knew it would be a bit of a trick to manage that ladder in heels, but I was determined to try.
"I'll go up the ladder, Jamie. I know exactly where I want to put these up there, so if you can hand them to me as I need them, please?"
"Sure, Mrs. B., no problem."
I climbed the ladder and turned to reach down for the first box. He held it up quite high for me so I didn't have to bend over. I climbed another step and reached up into the opening, pushing the box through. As I did, I tried to stretch and tilt my hips, hoping my skirt would flare out to give him a peek underneath. I smiled to myself when I heard him take a breath. I knew he'd just discovered what I had known all along. I had chosen to not wear any panties. I couldn't be sure of how much he saw but I knew I had his attention.