Naed and Taing Riss

I remember the day things changed.

It was two weeks after my sixtieth birthday. I had felt incredibly old. I remember my grandparents being sixty and at the time that seemed so ancient. I felt the spark had gone out of my life, and I had been increasingly feeling this way since our anniversary a few months ago.

That morning, after I had my shower, I stood looking in the mirror, feeling sorry for myself. How had this happened to me?

I should be happy, I had a good job and could retire anytime I wanted. We had two grown daughters who each had good careers, and a nice house, we traveled, and I had the life most people strived for. I was grateful, but looking at the gray hair, and the wrinkles, today I only saw an old woman.

Maybe it was just vanity, but I wanted to feel attractive, desirable, and sexy again.

I did yoga, worked out, ran, and was careful about what I ate. I had been married for almost thirty-two years. Thirty-two years, how was that even possible? We had enjoyed an active and very robust sex life for some of that time, but as Mel turned into his father, those encounters became less frequent and less. The last time had been more than a year ago and it had been less than satisfying lasting barely five minutes and Mel had fallen asleep afterward.

Maybe it wasn't one thing, maybe it was just a lot of small things, but all of them combined to turn something off inside me. I was afraid it might have been turned off forever.

We used to be adventurous, we had fun, and we had sex in semi-public places, with Mel's encouragement I had gotten naked and masturbated in so many places.

Mel had even fucked me at work, sometimes even while my co-workers were only a door away. What had happened, now Mel wouldn't even let me leave the lights on.

With each passing birthday, those memories seem to belong to a stranger than to me.

Mel is a good man but always really busy and on the road. He works for the same company I do. He is always at work before I wake up and we seldom see each other during the day. I don't think he is purposely avoiding me but sometimes I wonder.

He also has a part-time job renovating and is active playing hockey in the winter and ball in the summer. We're comfortable and don't need the money. To many, we must seem like the perfect family, but I am lonely, miss sex, and feel sexy.

People say I don't look my age, but by exercising and running like a fanatic, I have managed to keep gravity at bay and I thought I was still very attractive, my 36 x 25 x 37 body might have a few extra pounds but compared to most of my friends, time and the years had been kind to me. I just wish Mel noticed more.

I know other men find me attractive. I have always resisted the urges and subtle offers from men and women to discreetly satisfy my desires. Although not as many anymore, there have always been men and more than a few women. Now, I secretly long for another chance.

I needed something that got my blood going, something adventurous, something even risky. I had almost convinced myself that it wouldn't hurt anyone and that if I was careful, I wouldn't get caught.

I closed my eyes and thought about our last anniversary. Mel had to work late again. My carefully planned special evening began to unravel almost from the start. Mel went to work as normal at 6:30 each day and forgot he had promised to work late and didn't get home until 8:30. He was completely exhausted, we had microwaved the meal I had prepared and then he went to bed almost immediately.

Later, as I stood at the sink washing the dishes and wondering why I had done all this planning and preparation, I started to cry.

I had been excited all day and had rushed home.

Almost running, I had shaved my legs and more for him, anticipating that I would surprise him by having a bare pussy for the first time in years. Just as I was finishing preparing the meal, he called telling me that he knew he had to work late but had forgotten to tell me this morning. What made things worse, I had been telling him about the special meal I was going to prepare yesterday.

Getting even angrier I thought about the uncomfortable but sexy lingerie that he had said he liked a few weeks ago. I ordered it that night with our anniversary in mind. Now standing in our, up to my elbows in dirty dishes, the G-string panties were almost cutting me in half. I sat on the floor and cried some more.

The excitement I had felt was snuffed out. I had done this for us, and he had no interest, at least tonight in seeing me. Then, I'm not sure why, but I stopped crying.

"Come on girl, get a grip, just because he isn't interested," I could hear his snoring, "It doesn't mean that you can't take care of yourself,' I thought about the things that used to turn me on.

I don't know if I said any of that out loud or just thought it, but I know before Mel came home I felt so sexy walking around in my black merry widow bustier and matching panties that I didn't want to put on my clothes, I really had wanted to greet him at the door, but as each hour pasted that he was late, the more unhappy I had become. My makeup had run a little, but my hair was still up, my scent of my perfume still lingered, and although I had taken off my heels, they were still beside me.

"What to do?"

When I was much younger, before I was married, one of my secret thrills was to slip outside at night and walk around in my pj's or even sometimes naked. That was the first thing that popped into my mind, I hadn't done that since I was maybe nineteen.

My heels were back on, and my hand was on the doorknob before I even realized what I was doing. At another moment I was standing at the end of our driveway, wearing a black merry widow, and feeling more alive and sensual than I had felt in years.

The lights of our neighbors were dark, in the distance cars could be heard, but other than the wind nothing moved. The warm breeze caressed my barely covered ass, I could feel the moisture seeping from between my legs, and my nipples cried out for attention, both as hard as I could ever remember.

I could feel my heart pounding and I knew that I should turn around and run back into the house, but that's not what I did.

Onto the sidewalk, the streetlights were on the other side of the road, so I wasn't in direct light, and the shadows were long.

I slowed down and let my hips sway a little more and savored the feeling of being secretly exposed. My bravery, that first time had its limits and at the corner, I turned around and walked back towards our house. A dog barked nearby, and I almost jumped out of my skin.

When I reached our house, I sat on a lawn chair on our porch and just absorbed the night, the stars, and that soft breeze. Using my fingers I stroked my exposed skin around my pussy, making small and large circles on my skin. I could feel my body relaxing. Alone in the darkness and becoming braver I let a finger trace the outline of my folds and slit through the soaking material covering my pussy. Soft moans and gentle whimpers escaped my lips as I teased myself.

A porch light came on across the street and I froze for a few minutes, but my temperature kept rising, and at some point, I started again. Using my fingers and thumbs as I lifted my ass off the chair, I pulled my G-string down my thighs and then over my feet. My scent filled my senses which only fueled my desire even more. Now penetrating deep into myself, first with one finger, and then with two, my moaning was getting louder. I never noticed when, but at some point, the light went out across the street.

I imagined people watching me making myself cum, my neighbors peeking out at me, and my breathing becoming deeper and more irregular. My hips started flexing and pushing even harder against my hand. Using my free hand I pinched and pulled on my nipples, and then too soon my entire body stiffened and a very loud, "OOOOhhhhmmmmyyyygggooodddd," sound emerged from my throat as I came.

It was more intense than any orgasm I had experienced forever, my hips almost seemed to lock into place as the wetness almost sprayed from my body, and my entire body spasmed.

I sat as the aftershocks rumbled through my body, on a whim, I bought my fingers to my mouth and tasted and licked myself.

I didn't really appreciate it that night, but Mel's behavior that night had been the bottom for me and how I felt about myself as a woman.

I might have fallen back if something else hadn't happened the next day at work. Maybe I would have been content with just simple masturbation sessions and slipping outside naked every once in a while, fortunately for me, it did.

The thing was unexpected and surprising, and it happened in a room full of people.

I could smell his cologne.

I was closer than I really should have been, nobody seemed to notice or care, even him, but very subtly I moved still closer.

His was a very unique scent, masculine but with something else, and I thought it suited him.

I inhaled discreetly; the wonderful scent of old leather was part of it. There was a hint of something long forgotten from my childhood too. I remember as a kid, how my grandmother's kitchen smelled, he had a hint of something like cinnamon or some kind of spice about him.

Whatever it was it was delicious.

We were listening to someone talk about health and safety. I realized I hadn't heard a word of what the instructor had been saying.

Someone behind me bumped me and I brushed up against him the feeling was electric for me, it was only a second and I told myself that I was being silly, acting like a teenager instead of someone old enough to be a grandmother.

I had almost convinced myself that I was just a silly old woman, when he turned, his eyes locked on mine, those blue eyes seemed to see right into my soul and he smiled, and he quietly said the words, "Hi Brenda, you look amazing today."

Just as quickly as he turned back to the speaker, I realized I had been holding my breath. My hand almost touched his.

I glanced down, his hand was barely an inch from mine, and a million thoughts went through my mind in a split second. I could feel my heart beating in my chest.

What if I just reached and touched his hand again. Doubt and fear gripped me. The speaker continued to talk but it was just incoherent noise to me.

What if I did; would he turn around disgusted at me, would I be in trouble for harassment, what if someone caught me.

Panic and fear replaced the excitement that I had felt only seconds before.

I felt something strong and warm, it took a second for me to realize that while I was panicking, he had very simply just run his fingers along the edge of my hand. The gesture was so small, that it might look to be an accident, but the touching lingered for a moment longer than what an accident might have, there was a confidence to it. He turned to me and smiled again. I felt my body responding in a way that it hadn't for so long.

Our eyes met and for a moment there was something, a glimmer maybe, a sense of potential, hope. It ignited something deep inside me.

Later working in my office, I thought to myself, "One kiss couldn't hurt."

"What would that possibly hurt?"

I thought that quietly to myself as I tried to work on some of my morning reports.

I didn't even know if he felt that way about me.

Yes he had smiled at me, yes he had run his finger along my hand, and yes he had made me instantly wet. But, I was also nagged by the reality that I was almost a senior citizen.

I told myself he was married, he was attractive, and if he did want someone else, he could have anyone he wanted, there were a dozen women in our organization that would jump at a chance to be with him, married or single. Still the look in his eyes, it had been so long since I had considered kissing someone other than Mel. I realized I had drawn about forty small hearts on the report I was reading.

Besides, Mel certainly didn't seem that interested me anymore.

Scott was younger than me by three years, I shouldn't have looked in his personnel file, but I wanted to know.

I thought about his features, I thought he was good-looking, not a movie star type of handsome, but there was something quietly rugged and dependable about him.

I found that very appealing. Scott appeared in the outer office. I was talking to someone. I sat there trying to not be obvious about staring at his ass. There was something else, I couldn't really describe, it wasn't melancholy or sad, but there was a vulnerability to him. It was like he had seen too much. He was alternatively confident, but not in an arrogant way, at least not after you got to know him. He also had a vitality I saw flashes of at any time I asked for help.

He paused, turned, looked at me, his eyes locked on mine, and smiled. Just for a moment, just for me, and I could have melted right then and there. I smiled back. Then he was gone, ushered into another meeting. I turned back to my reports.

I thought about every morning he also noticed how I was dressed and commented, he asked for my opinions, and more importantly, he listened.

Around him, he made me feel pretty and empowered at the same time without being overt. Both were nice feelings that had been absent for a long time and it's funny that something so small would make me feel so different.

Over the week, I made more of an effort to dress up for him. I know it was silly, but I did.

I started by putting the granny panties away, for the first time in years I wore some of my lingerie to work. The silky and sheer fabrics moved deliciously against my skin all day stirring even more memories of a long forgotten and dormant desires.

Shaving my legs, once done only randomly, now was something I did likely more than I needed to. I had forgotten how sexy the feel of my smooth skin was on everything, my sheets, my slacks, and as I moved throughout the day.

One night, while Mel was out playing ball, I shaved even more, it had been years since I shaved my pussy. That first night in forever, I had done in while in the tub, starting with scissors, then with some lather and a new razor. When I was finished, I masturbated in the tub, I think I was in there for almost an hour. Afterward, I wore one of Mel's old dress shirts to bed with the arms rolled up like I had when we were first married. I had hoped he might have responded.

When he came to bed about an hour later, he said, "Hey, why are you wearing my shirt, you have lots of pajamas." I offered to take it off, almost begging for him to so he could see that I was shaved and naked underneath, but his only reply was to leave the room and not say anything.

I kept wearing them, but he never said anything again. That had been the first day I had masturbated about Scott, at work in the washroom. But not the last.

My senses told me that Scott might be feeling the same way as me about his marriage. Any chance I had to talk to him always ended with interruptions from other staff. I wanted so much to ask him more questions but after each attempt, I could only sigh, frustrated and feeling like I was a prisoner in my own little prison.

I knew what was missing, that human touch, that almost raw feeling of desire that was increasingly going unsatisfied.

One night on my way home, using my vibrator, I was growing more frustrated about having to satisfy myself alone. I wondered if it was possible to wear out a vibrator. I was now masturbating once or twice every day when I could. I wondered what he would think if he knew how often and how much I thought about him and what we could do together.

I knew I wasn't ready to be old, unfortunately, Mel seemed to be quite content. He was up and gone to work before I even got out of bed. He finished work at 3:30, had a part-time renovation job, and worked until after supper, we watched TV maybe a couple times a week, and he was in bed by 8:30 pm.

It had been forever since we had gone out at night. Somehow, I had managed to convince him to go to a Rocky Horror Picture show revival, and even though he said he would go, I had to drag him to it. I think he was purposely trying to find something else to do.

I had been so excited to go out. I had wanted to get dressed up like so many of the people I knew who planned to go. I dreamt of wearing sexy lingerie to the theatre and it would be a chance to feel both sexy and desirable.

I should have noticed the warning signs, but in my excitement, I ignored that Mel only reluctantly participated. As I put on my fishnet stockings and corset, I felt really sexy and for the first time in a long time, I thought I deserved to feel this way and I really hoped Mel would eventually respond too. I still wanted him and us to recapture those feelings together.

The night of the show, I had gotten off work early, got home, and ran a bath. Taking an uncharacteristic bubble bath, I enjoyed a glass of wine and shaved everything super smooth. I way I was feeling, I wanted to make love tonight or if he wanted, to have him ravish me and fuck my brains out as we had so long ago, I was good either way.

I took extra care with my hair and makeup, wanting to be perfect for Mel, but when he arrived late he didn't even comment on how I looked or how I was dressed.

All he did was complain and try to talk me out of going. Now, after the show, as I listened to him snore, for the first time ever, my thoughts drifted to how I would have felt had I gone with someone else, Scott was the person I was thinking about.

I put Mel out of my mind as I buried my head under my pillow, and thought about how tonight might have been different with Scott. Despite Mel, parts of tonight had been fun, the feelings from actually wearing lingerie in public with other men and women quietly staring at me all night long gave me a rush that I found almost unbearable. I could tell they didn't think I was old, and several of them even commented to me about how sexy I looked.

The theatre had served wine at intermission which helped me to relax. I think I was blushing continuously as I was sure that everyone would be able to tell how wet and excited I was. Standing at the bar or wandering through the rooms and theatre in lingerie made me even more buzzed than the wine.

I had wanted Mel to kiss me and play with me so badly all night; during the show, several other couples were doing everything except having sex, but Mel was not interested he barely spoke to me at all.

When he did talk, all he grumbled about was how he had missed the game on TV. Even as people commented about how I looked, he never acknowledged how hard I had tried to make the evening fun for both of us. To make it worse, he never even noticed how upsetting his complaining was during and afterward for me.

That night with his snoring keeping me awake, my mind began to wander, I let my fingers explore my body, my fingertips just lightly brushing over my skin.

For as long as I can remember, I had loved that feeling, like little electric chills rushing through my nervous system and I once started, I couldn't get enough, much less stop. Mel had once done that, but that had been before our girls were born. Even I hadn't done it for a long time. Enjoying the sensation, I started to relax, up and down my arms and down my legs as far as I could reach. The feeling slowed my breathing down and shifted my imagination into overdrive.

I imagined I was watching the Rocky Horror Picture show again, but this time Mel had stayed home to watch the game. But I was there. I thought about how I had dressed tonight. I had worn my hair up, blood-red ribbons holding it in place. I had taken the time to really do a nice job on my makeup, not too much, but enough to show Scott, that I had taken extra care. He looked at me and smiled, telling me I looked beautiful and sexy. More than once he kissed me and let his fingers and hands explore me, all while people moved about us, some watching some doing the same things with their partners. I thought about his eyes, they were unnaturally a deep blue, and now they seemed to swallow me whole.