My life fell apart after Karen's death. I went in to nearly total seclusion. I met her at the State University campus in North West Ohio and fell in love with her. She was a beautiful and vivacious young woman. After dating two years, she agreed to become my wife, Mrs. Tim Larson. She would tell me that our children would have brown hair and brown eyes, like me. We bought a nice house just before getting married. Two years after we got married, we were planning on starting a family, when she was killed by a drunk driver who was driving the wrong way at a high speed; she was going to work early that morning.
Two years after Karen's death, her older sister suggested I move to Central Florida because her former neighbors, Anne and Fred Oster, an older couple, who moved there, liked the area. Further, she suggested I may be able to rent a room in their home. After I sold my home, I moved to Central Florida. With the money from selling my home and the life insurance payment on Karen, I felt I could live without working fulltime for couple of years and get my life in order; perhaps, try my hand at being a writer.
I met Anne and Fred at their home in a town outside Orlando. Anne was an attractive woman with light-blue eyes and blonde-gray wavy hair, about 45 years old; later, I learned she was 47 years. Fred was older than her, by about 15 years, and used a wheel chair to get around with Anne's help. Anne, who was 5-ft, 5-in, and about 130 lb., looked vaguely familiar, but I was not sure where I met her. Luckily, as my sister suggested, Anne and Fred had a studio apartment they were glad to rent to me. The one large room was airy with large widows and it had a separate entrance. It was also connected by a door to the much larger section in which Anne and Fred lived. At the rear of their home, there was a two-section ramp for Fred's wheel chair.
At the back of the property, there was a small pond, which was home to a few water fowl; when Anne saw me taking photos of the birds, she said, "Please take photos of Fred also."
On the other side of the pond, there was a home with tall trees on two sides. A hedge on Fred's property provided good privacy for Fred and Anne. I saw a lady about 55 years old hanging wet clothes on a line. Between the clothes line and the home, there was a swing for, I assumed, the lady's grandchildren.
Fred explained, "That's Sara, a retired music teacher. She still offers piano lessons, but not during the summer. She is a friend of Anne."
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One evening, Anne and Fred invited me out to dinner to a diner. Anne drove us in a handicap-accessible van. It was a warm evening and Anne wore a white sleeve-less halter top and beige shorts; she also had on light make up, costume jewelry: short, dangling ear rings, and a necklace. During dinner, I learned that Anne retired after teaching English and that she had a 26 year-old daughter, Jess, a nurse, who has a four-year-old son, and a fiancée. Fred retired after teaching Physical Education and coaching the boys' basketball team. It was second marriage for both of them. Fred suffered a stroke and began to use a wheel chair. I complemented Anne on speaking English with no accent, even though she was about ten years old when she and her family moved to the USA from Norway. Fred spoke with difficulty and had to be fed by Anne. Anne asked me numerous questions about Karen and my interests.
After dinner, we went to a park where Fred was able to enjoy the fresh air; Anne was glad I wanted to push Fred's wheel chair. I took several photos of Fred and of Anne, especially when she was on a swing. I got a glimpse of her panties when her skirt went up while swinging; she blushed when she saw me staring at her crotch, but opened her legs a bit wide to give me a better peek.
Later, Anne said, "I am working out at the club, but still need to watch what I eat. Do you exercise?"
"I have resumed running and just about reached my weight goal of 170 lb. on my 6-foot, 2-in, frame."
"My club has several young women members."
"I like to swim, but I am not yet ready to meet young women."
Fred interjected, "You can go to our club as a guest."
Late in the evening, as Anne drove home, she said, "Would you like to have a cup of coffee or something stronger?"
"Like what?"
"Scotch on the rocks, Fred's favorite drink."
"Sure."
As we were sipping our drinks and talking, Anne noticed Fred was nodding off, and said, "It's Fred's bed time," and wheeled him to the bedroom.
When she returned, I was looking at the photos on a long table, and said to her, "You and Fred were a handsome couple."
"Fred was a very handsome man. I miss that man I married," and tears welled up in her eyes.
I said, "I'm sorry," and, as I gently pulled her towards me, she sobbed softly and hugged me.
I tried to break away from her embrace, but she held on to me in a bear hug, and whispered, "Please hold me for a few minutes."
I felt Anne's large boobs pressing against my chest and, being celibate for a long time, my cock became very stiff immediately. I was hoping Anne would not feel my hard on, but she didn't seem to care and pressed her lower belly against my stiff cock. She planted small kisses on my neck.
I tilted her head up, wiped her tears, and softly kissed her red lipstick-coated lips. Anne returned my soft kiss with a long, passionate, kiss; she also slid her right hand to my crotch and grasped my cock lump.
Slowly, Anne slipped out of my embrace, and said, "I'm sorry. This is going too fast. Actually, you're the first man I hugged passionately since Fred's stroke two years ago. I don't even know if you like me."
I said, "You're a very attractive woman. I like you lots, but I don't want you to do anything you don't want to. I know you love Fred. I'm sorry he is not the person you married."
Anne said, "I like you, too. I also know that Fred will not become the man he was before his stroke. I don't want anyone to find out that I like you."
"I won't tell anyone about us. I promise," and left for my room quickly.
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Twice a week, a physical therapist and an aide came to work with Fred for about four hours; that was when Anne got her shopping and other chores done.
One day, when the weather was nice, I drove Anne and Fred to their club. At the club, we all lounged by the pool in our swimming gear. After changing in to a two-piece bikini, Anne got in to the swimming pool. While Anne swam, Fred and I talked about the latest sports news; Fred knew a lot about sports, especially about basketball. Using the zoom lens of my camera I took several photos of Anne in her skimpy bikini: narrow waist, wide hips, still flat tummy, shiny skin, and succulent boobs. My cock got stiff watching Anne in her wet, clinging, bikini
Anne called to me, "Tim, I'm ready to get out. Please bring my towel."
Holding the towel in front of me to cover up my erection in my swimming trunks, I walked over to Anne.
After she took the towel from me, Anne saw the tent my cock had caused in my trunks, and smiling whispered, "Looks like you like my bikini," making me blush.
It was Anne's turn to blush, when I said boldly, "I would like to see the puppies covered up by the bikini top."
"May be you will get lucky; until then, dream about them. In case you are wondering, they are 36DD."
She blushed when I whispered, "They are magnificent."
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I had finished a long article for a national magazine and decided to take a day off. I agreed to drive Anne and Fred to a morning appointment at a clinic. After Fred's appointment, we picked up take out lunches, and returned home before midday.
After lunch, Fred said, "I'm tired. I need to rest."
Anne said, "I need to change in to comfortable clothes and do a load of laundry."
A short time later Anne returned dressed in skimpy shorts and a low-cut tank top, her lips painted red, hair pulled back, and carrying a hamper full of dirty clothes, and said, "Fred is already asleep."
"I'll carry the hamper," and followed her to the laundry room.
As she loaded the washer, she bent down and stuck her sexy ass out.
I whispered, "You look too sexy."
"You are pretty sexy yourself," and, while pressing her pillowy boobs against my back, hugged me tightly from behind.
Slowly, I turned around to face Anne, hugged her, and planted numerous passionate kisses on her neck and sexy cleavage.
Gently pushing me away, Anne said, "I changed my mind about us and decided to give you another chance. I worried about loving a younger man. But, I think I'll able to keep you satisfied."
"Yes, you're the perfect woman for me."
"I was moved watching Sara, my neighbor and friend, loving her young boyfriend. His name is Ron. I was doing yard work near the hedge at the back. Being several feet away, I could see some of what was going on. I wish I had been lot closer to see more and hear the two lovers."
"I know Ron well. He owns a landscaping business. Fred mentioned that Sara is about 55 years old."
Anne said, "Sara is my friend. She has a good body as a result of exercising several hours a week and plastic surgery. Anyway, Ron is about 20 years younger than her. He has been coming to her home for about a year."
I said, "I saw Ron last year at the Thirsty Owl bar. He was depressed after his wife left him. One year later he told me he met Sara, a special lady. He said she was a divorcee 20 years older than she looks and that much older than him. With Ron's encouragement, Sara had breast augmentation surgery. He confided that he is turned on looking at Sara's big boobs and the small wrinkles on her neck, arms, legs, thighs, and pussy. When she wants him to fuck her, she goes bra-less, and wears tight-fitting blouses and leaves the top three buttons open. He loves making love to Sara especially that she throws her head back, her hair spread on the pillow, her silicone-enhanced boobs jiggling, and her long legs and arms around Ron's firm, young body. He is lucky that Sara willingly gives herself up whenever he wants her. They are fucking twice as often as they did before her breast surgery."
Anne said, "I should confess I had my breasts augmented from C to DD cups before Fred's stroke. Let's go to the living room, in case Fred calls. Also, I like to watch my favorite TV show."
I followed her like a puppy and sat next to her on the couch. She turned on the TV to watch her show.
I pleaded, "May I suckle them, please. All that talk about boobs turned me on."
Giggling, Anne said, "You are eager, like a teenager. Of course you can, but don't make too much noise. I would like to watch TV. You can put your head on my lap."
After I put my head on Anne's soft lap, I felt her stroke my hair. I also felt Anne's plump left boob touching my face; slowly, I turned my head toward the left nipple breathing into the tank top Anne was wearing.
