I retired at 64. Life had been good to me; I had three lovely daughters and seven grandchildren, a husband who provided for me and a nice home. Oh, and there were my pet cats, who I adored. Only one area of my life was falling below expectations and that was in the bedroom department. Things had gone swimmingly at first with almost too much sex, but about ten years ago things had tailed off to a point where physical stimulation was non-existent. We had settled into a comfortable life and to be fair to my husband, he was still working. His days were long and started at what seemed like the middle of the night. Weekdays were spent trying to get enough sleep; weekends were spent catching up on sleep that was missed.
I, on the other hand, had the luxury of staying in bed until the streets were properly aired. I had remained faithful throughout our marriage, but always enjoyed sex. I had turned down chances of extra marital fun several times over the years and was once hit on by a lad many years my junior who pursued me for many months with various offers of short breaks to warm places and the promise of carefree sex. The nearest I got was a hurried kiss in the garden at a house party where I allowed him to fumble about in my knickers for a few minutes. We were both drunk.
It was during these early morning lay-ins after my husband had left for work that I would fantasise about sexual encounters and would often pleasure myself at the thoughts. My fantasies were all pretty ordinary. Mostly they centred on a chance meeting with an ex-boyfriend or an approach from an old friend. Sometimes it was people from the TV that I fancied.
I had also been given a good set of genes and now at 65 I was still in reasonable shape. Of course, some things had widened or sagged and lowered, but I was still able to compare with many women in their forties and still got the occasional admiring glance in the street.
It was during one of my morning fantasies that a memory popped into my head and my subconscious mind started to expand upon it. Some years earlier I had been lying on a beach in a bikini when I noticed a guy laying on a sun lounger looking across at me. He had a perfect view of the soles of my feet and right up past my navel, across my breasts to my face. I lay for quite some time squinting at him through half closed eyes, watching him watching me. As the afternoon wore on, he occasionally moved and shuffled about, but always laying on his front, never his back. Towards the end of the afternoon he produced a mobile phone and started looking at it, still in a prone position. It didn't occur to me until after we had left the beach that he may have been taking a photo or video. At first the idea had horrified me, but later that evening, with some of the local booze inside me, I began to think it quite flattering. I had fantasised about giving him a better view alongside my already asleep husband in bed that night.
By the following day it was all forgotten and the memory had not resurfaced until now. I imagined the feeling of the warm sun on my body and the intensity that the moment would have brought had I realised how interested my beach neighbour was. As I remembered and built an entire fantasy around this moment of my life, I brought myself to a very intense orgasm. I have always been multi-orgasmic, but I left it at the one for now and went into the bathroom to start my day.
I stood for a moment in front of the mirror and studied my naked body. I couldn't claim it was perfect, but it certainly was a lot better than many people's and they didn't mind going out in a bikini or bathing costume. I decided I was very lucky. I put off having a shower and instead washed my face and cleaned my teeth before going downstairs in a very thin and worn out towelling robe that I had owned for years.
I mentioned I was multi-orgasmic, but what I didn't say was that after the first time I am always left very horny. It is a nice feeling, so I am never in too much of a hurry to dispel it. So it was this particular morning that I found myself in the kitchen with the sun streaming through the windows and a nice tingling sensation all over my body.
I had only tied my robe loosely and as I set about clearing up from the night before it got in the way. Being in a sexy frame of mind, I decided to remove it and work naked. It felt wonderful being free. My breasts moving and gently swaying as I worked, air between my legs and no hindrance to my movements. It must have been a full hour later that I felt the urge to take a pee and without thinking set off towards the downstairs toilet. I mentioned that I was lucky with my life and had a nice house. A nice house that featured a downstairs toilet, just inside the front door, dedicated for the use of guests and housewives too lazy to walk back upstairs. As I walked down the hallway, deep in thought, I was suddenly aware of a movement ahead, outside the glass panelled entrance door. It was the postman. Initially I was horrified that I might have been seen, the glass panel was only slightly patterned and I started to turn and try to cover up. But then the fantasy popped back into my head and I realised that being admired wasn't such a bad thing after all. Instead of running away, I simply stopped and stood while the postman pushed the letters through the slot in the door and turned back down the front path.
Had he seen me? I wasn't sure, but the more I thought about it, the more I thought he would not have. The light outside was bright and inside would not have been so visible due to it being much darker. I opened the toilet door and stood looking at myself in the mirror opposite. I was getting used to seeing my body and it was really not as bad as it might have been. Perhaps it would be enhanced by the removal of my pubic hair down below, which was a little untidy, but that was all. Two hours later I had showered, made a phone call and was on my way out of the door.
I pulled up outside BronzeNwax in the little customer car parking area and walked in. The surroundings were very tastefully decorated and featured tanning booths, a nail bar and other booths for the various beauty treatments on offer. I was greeted by an older lady who I assumed to be the owner and shown into one of the beauty booths. She covered the bed in fresh smelling clean towels and apologised that the lady originally assigned to do my treatment had gone home feeling unwell, but that she would personally see to me and that she wouldn't turn a customer away disappointed.
She told me to remove my skirt and to make myself comfortable on the bed, promising to return in a few minutes. As instructed I removed my skirt and laid back on what was a very comfortable bed indeed. It was not long before I found myself drifting away remembering the events of the day and feeling my horniness rising. I realised in the nick of time and pulled myself together. I wasn't here to be horny. That could come later.
Almost immediately the owner, who I now knew to be called Jane, returned and set about preparing for my waxing. She looked across towards the tops of my legs and asked what I wanted. Caught in a whim, I told her that I wanted to be completely bald, a totally smooth pussy and bum crack. She wasn't fazed or surprised at my request, but politely asked me to remove my bikini briefs to make access easier and to save them getting covered in wax. I had been waxed a few times before and knew what was to come. I was actually looking forward to experiencing the sharp pain in new places.
