This story is a fantasy featuring mostly heterosexual female on male sexual encounters, mostly older participants. Any similarities to real persons is unintentional. All characters are of age and consenting. This is a long read, not a quickie. Slow build to, hopefully, a good payoff. Reflects the author's preferences and proclivities. Not for everyone. Enjoy. If not, thanks for giving me a try; there are many other great stories and authors to enjoy here.
Recommended pre-read: Samantha from my past - the bike ---
An afternoon had passed since my unforgettable encounter with Samantha, the still sexy sixty year old from my past. Something like that hadn't happened to me in a long time... sex with a relative stranger. Certainly not since before I was married three decades ago, and nothing since my wife had died these two years past.
It had been a strange and wonderful afternoon. After I'd repaired her bicycle for her, after our hot and steamy session in my garage, and after we'd drunk each others fluids (but not had actual sex), her phone had rung. We had both seen the name that came up: "JEFF - TINDER".
She'd explained to me that she was actually seeing someone at the moment. That shouldn't have been a surprise to me. A man named Jeff that she'd met on a dating app. But although he looked good on screen, and she was attracted to him physically, a few dates proved that he'd turned out to be a lot like her ex-husband Brian. A little full of himself, a little too inattentive to her - until he wanted sex from her. And apparently that sex was uneventful. He could make her cum, but they both had to work at it. In the garage, still fragrant with each others' juices she had said to me: "There's no spark. At least not like we just had." And smiled mischievously at me. "I am not sure where it's going," she had explained. "He really likes my kids. He came with me to Laura's graduation from UW. Even helped pay for her graduation trip to San Diego." She went on to say that he was a little jealous too. Didn't like when she attracted the attention of other men. Sulked a bit when it happened. She hadn't even put his last name in her phone.
You see, Samantha had come up to my summer resort town in central Washington State for a getaway with girl pals. In a day or so, a dozen or so women in their late fifties - and older - were coming to celebrate the sixtieth birthday of one of their group. Most of them were staying at a hotel resort a few miles away. I could actually see it across the lake from my house.
Samantha, and her very sexy body, had triggered something in me. I hadn't had sex with anyone, barely even masturbated, since my wife had passed. And suddenly I'd had a raw and sexually charged experience with a woman from my past. Someone with whom I'd had absolutely no previous sexual interactions with - just one innocently flirtatious incident ten years ago.
And now, it seemed, although she was staying a few miles away for a party weekend with gal pals, that experience was not likely to be repeated. Her "boyfriend" Jeff was also coming up for the weekend to golf with his friends at a nearby course. Not only that, he was actually going to be staying with her in her room. It made me wonder why she'd been so eager to initiate a sexual encounter with me.
Apparently he was ferrying some of her girlfriends up from Seattle and Kent after he finished work on Friday. Being retired for several years now, she'd come up two days early, with her bike on the rack of her car, in order to get some riding in. I'd met her on one of her rides which had led to our surprise encounter. Since Jeff couldn't get away from his Accounting Firm until midafternoon on Friday, he'd offered to bring some of her friends up when he came, and take them home after the end of the weekend.
I remained confused about why she'd initiated a torrid sexual encounter with me despite the fact that her current boyfriend was going to be sharing a bed with her in a couple of days, but she'd made it clear that their relationship - at least to her - was in question. She was a free woman, free to give and share her sexuality with whom she pleased, and didn't feel a strong sense of commitment to him, at least at the moment.
I, for one, didn't feel super excited about inserting myself into a relationship that I didn't understand. I had never been the "other man", even in my roaring twenties when I dated freely, and I wasn't going to start now. Always a tricky situation.
I shared some of these feelings with Samantha before she left me, and she understood, and made it clear that there didn't have to be another time if we didn't want it.
As she rode away waving goodbye to me, I watched her pert butt rotating slightly on her bicycle seat, and thought that her tone indicated that maybe she did in fact want more, and it was up to me to decide if I did. Our tryst had been so fast and unexpected, I hadn't even showed her the inside of my house.
Later that afternoon, after she'd gone, and I'd had a lazy float in my pool, I made myself dinner on the barbecue. I turned down a nice text invitation from the neighbors to come over for a beer. After I'd cleaned up my dinner plates, I sat on my front deck looking at the lake. Sipped a beer in the warm evening air. Shaded from the setting sun behind me. I could see the initial orange glow of the sunset reflected in the resort windows across the lake.
I'd brought out a switch panel that I'd removed from my boat. It sat on the low table in front of my lounge chair. It needed to be cleaned and I had to repair the contacts which looked corroded. The panel included switches that ran my wake trim plate and controlled the various tower and marker lights around the boat. Some of those lights tended to flicker on and off, and after previously checking bulbs, I'd suspected that the switches might be to blame. If this didn't solve the problem, then I was tracing wires and pulling bulb fixtures out of the hull and off the tower, which is always a pain.
The boat was parked on its trailer near my garage. It was older, but had served us well, providing a great vessel to get out on the lake where we would float and soak in the sun, do some wakeboarding, ski and surf. My wife and I both remained good at a variety of board sports even into our mid fifties. I missed it. There was a boat ramp very nearby our house, so it was easy to drop it in to spend a day on the lake, and pick it up afterwards. The boat and I hadn't been out for a while.
I looked at the switch panel in front of me. A few dusty wires spread out from it across the table surface. I had a handful of screwdrivers, sandpaper, wire brushes and spray cans of contact cleaner next to it. Some spare fuses in a plastic container.
My phone was on the table, and I picked it up and set it to play quiet music out of its speaker.
Just as I put it back down, it buzzed. A message notification hovered on the screen. I saw a small round picture next to a name.
Samantha.
We'd not even exchanged phone numbers.
Right. Facebook.
I tapped on the message and then my phone PIN. The message filled the screen.
"hey whats your number"
I stared at the message for a moment, then put the phone back down on the table. I picked up my beer. My cock was still a little tingly from the workout she'd given me. Despite my shower and swim, I could almost smell her scent on me. My wife had not enjoyed oral sex - receiving it that is. Maybe not giving it, either. Not sure. We enjoyed sex but didn't talk about it very much. She was a little inhibited that way. She was self-conscious (unnecessarily) and even though she liked the idea of receiving oral sex from me, she had to be in an extremely uninhibited state to enjoy it. Maybe I wasn't very good at it. Samantha on the other hand had liberally slathered me with her pussy juices. Enjoyed it. I might even have been scraping her with my stubble, yet she had pushed back into my mouth with gusto.
Visions started to play in my head of Samantha's face looking up at me lasciviously, my spewing cock in her mouth; then of her labia spread in front of me, peeking from between her firm ass; her breasts and nipples straining against her tight white riding shirt.
I shook my head to clear it.
Did I want more?
My sore cock moved slightly, and there was a tingle in my loins.
Absolutely.
Did I want more given her circumstances? I leant back and stared up at the blue evening sky. Sipped my beer. Thinking
My life was very uncomplicated. Necessarily so. My local neighbors had started to hint to me that some of the local divorcees in the pickleball club, and some of the neighboring single women (all older of course - I seemed to attract them) had started to show interest in me. I was, after all, a "unicorn": A widower, married for many years, clearly monogamous throughout that time, with some money, retired, with looks that were still holding on to their youth. Neighbors joked that I was a "catch". But I had no interest in complicating my life with a relationship. And until today, I really hadn't had thoughts of another woman. Another partner in my life. The thought of joining a dating app repulsed me. Being alone amongst my friends and family felt OK to me. I didn't feel as empty as I had after my wife had passed, but I also didn't feel like I needed anyone. In my experience, a lot of these older single women that I'd met casually were bringing baggage too. Grumpy ex-husbands still in the picture. Some adult children living at home. Some ex-PARTNERS living at home, in the basement. Sharing a house for economic reasons. Money problems that might be partially solved with a new partner. The local facebook groups I'd been invited to were full of these younger boomers and older GenXers complaining too much. Gossiping. The pickleball club had a lot of those women. Too much time on their hands and too few interests to keep their minds busy.
