The Matrons of Regal Bay
Chapter 6
Pamela's Tales -- Part 1
Pamela rolled over and looked at the nightstand clock. It read 3:15am. She rolled into a sitting position it the bedroom's darkness on the edge of the big bed she shared with her husband. He still slept soundly next to her, gently snoring as she looked at him. She felt regret, looking at George and recalling the last eight hours. Eight hours that had changed her entire life.
Pamela quietly left the bedroom, heading for the kitchen and a drink of water. She paused at the entry to the living room, where she noticed the television was still on, and her adult son lay asleep on the sofa. She slipped in and found the remote to shut the television off, and then gently lay a throw blanket across Johnny's torso. He was deeply asleep, and she paused to look at her son, a young man of 21, who was a year or two older than the young man she had spent the evening with. A jolt of anxiety rushed through her, because she knew that her son and her young lover knew each other.
She retrieved a bottle of water from the refrigerator, sipped at it as the memory of her evening washed through her mind. Pamela Walker, 45-year-old married mother of one a, taught English at Regal Bay High School. Her wages helped at home, where she lived with her disabled husband and son. George Walker, her husband of 25 years, had been injured in a truck accident nearly eight years before, and over the last five his condition had gotten worse. George was six years older than Pamela, but with his deteriorating health he looked twice that. In the last six-months he'd become all-but bed-ridden from the effects of the medications he was on. The crash had left him paralyzed from mid-chest down, and he'd had to have both legs amputated below the knees from the damage done in the accident. He had once been a strong, active, virile man. Now George was little more than a burden to her, and she hated herself for thinking like that. She still loved her husband, but she needed more in life, before she had grown too old to enjoy it.
A friend of Pamela's had mentioned maybe going on-line and looking for a discrete, extra-marital hook-up. At first Pamela had blown off the idea, but as the weeks went by, so did her aversions. What harm could creating some false persona do, she asked herself. Maybe she'd have a little fun with it. After all, she didn't have to go through with anything. She'd just see what kind of guy she might hook.
Pamela had never thought of herself as a MILF, a "Mother-I'd-Like-to-Fuck" type, and yet within hours of posting her somewhat made-up and yet a little close to real profile on the sight, along with a picture of her nude torso from the shoulders to her hips, Pamela had received dozens of "flirts" and messages. She was absolutely amazed that there were so many young men, and even some young women, who were looking for an older woman such as herself to hook up with. The sight Pamela had posted on, at the suggestion of her friend and neighbor, was one dedicated to helping older women, for the most part over the age of 40, find an extra-marital sex partner. Pamela was plump by all accounts; with dirty blonde hair she kept short, gray eyes, matronly hips and soft, saggy d-cup breasts. She never considered herself all that attractive. Just plain. But she had a large sexual appetite that her invalid husband would never be able to satisfy again. And even back in the day, when he was whole, George would rather fuck some young bimbo, with big fake tits, who liked to dance around on stages flopping her fake-DD's out into the faces of whatever guy waves a bill in her direction.
It wasn't that Pamela was surprised, or even delighted, that so many men found her profile, or picture, attractive enough to want to hook up with her, it was the irony of who she finally accepted to meet with that had set her head spinning. Since posting her faux-profile she had read dozens of postings from young men, and a couple of interested young women, who wanted to exchange messages with her. In particular, she enjoyed checking out the pictures they would post. Most were obviously not really the guys writing. Probably some picture cut-and-pasted from some hot-body internet sight. After all, there just couldn't be that many guys with toned abs and tanned body out there looking to hook up with tired old hags like her, she thought. Pamela found herself drawn more by what the picture showed than what words were written. After all, a picture is worth a thousand words, right?
One of the first postings she replied to was one accompanying a picture that showed a young guy with an average body and little bodily hair, to include his crotch. It didn't show his face, unlike so many others, which lent Pamela to believe that the picture was genuine to the writer. What it did show was a well-hung young man. His profile read "I'm 18, ready for college, and love sex if it includes my eating you out!" Pamela couldn't help herself. As she read through his profile a third time, which included the phrase "I need to find a woman who will play out my fantasy of bedding my own mother", Pamela found herself rubbing her crotch. Although she had never thought about her own son in such a way, Pamela wondered if this young man in the profile, who went by the screen name "I_wanna_bang_U", had a mother who would be anything like herself. After all, this boy had read her own profile and sent her a message. It probably helped that her own screen moniker was "OldHornie36d", which would send any young horny guy her way, or so her friend had explained.
So it went as over the next couple of weeks, Pamela and "I_wanna_bang_U" exchanged ever increasingly dirty messages through the web site. Eventually, Pamela set up a second e-mail account, one which no one in her immediate circle would know about, which she intended to use to communicate more freely with her potential lover. She offered up her new e-mail address, and soon they were messaging directly, without having to log-on to the MILF sight. It wasn't long before Pamela finally accepted his offer of meeting her, face-to-face. Still, he hadn't shown his to her, or she to him. They both agreed that a neutral-ground meeting place should be used, as they both lived in Regal Bay. Anxiously, Pamela made arrangements that included a motel room near the interstate for the up-coming Friday night. She sent him the information, including the room number and that she'd be waiting for him there.
It was hard for Pamela to concentrate on her work at school all through the day Friday, the anticipation of what she had set in motion filling her with excitement and dread, all at the same time. By the time the day had ended, she was ready to call the entire thing off. After getting home, and taking a much-needed shower, she had relaxed somewhat, and felt that she could at least meet the young man. It was entirely up to her whether they did anything physical. A meeting couldn't hurt, and still wouldn't be a violation of her wedding vows, she reasoned.
George was propped up in the bed, watching television in their room, when she came from the bathroom. She wore only a bathrobe, which she let fall to the bed as she passed George. He barely gave her nudity a glance.
"I'm going out tonight," she told him. "I'm meeting Ursula and a couple of others for drinks, if that's alright with you, honey?"
