© blueeyeandy 2016
(Also published under the penname Shyblueeyes1968)
(FM, Older/Younger/Mature Women/Younger Man/Oral - Approx. 4350 words)
Note: Please do not place this story on any other website, without the express permission of the author, or as an absolute minimum, with the authors email address and homepage address. The use of this story and other stories by the author 'Shyblueeyes1968' for commercial purposes or other activities where readers have to pay to access the story, is strictly forbidden, without the express consent of the author hyblueeyes1968.
Revised September 2016
__________________________________________________
Summary: A woman in her 40's, attractive, divorced and deeply frustrated both sexually and emotionally, by the men in her own age group. Temptation comes knocking and she finally gives in.
__________________________________________________
Brenda sighed deeply as she dropped her sports bag in the hallway. She'd just returned from her early morning swim. Damn, she thought, it's not working. She'd hoped that a good long swim would release some of the frustration and tension that had been building up for past few days. It had worked briefly, but with the prospect of a long lonely weekend ahead she knew it wasn't going to last.
She sighed again, well no good getting down about it, pull yourself together girl she told herself, and with that she walked on through into the kitchen. After all the rushing around and the little last minute panics of the past few weeks, it all seemed like an anti-climax. She filled a glass with orange juice from the fridge, then walked over to the kitchen window and gazed out of it.
I suppose I could catch up on the gardening, she thought. What with getting her son ready for his first year at university, she'd neglected the garden a little; well actually quite a lot really. She told herself aloud "Yes, that's what I'll do!" But for the moment, she continued standing by the kitchen sink, gazing out of the window pondering her life.
I'm alone, she told herself. She had friends, and an ok social life, a dozen employees etc... So, not really alone but that's how she felt, now that both of the children were at university.
It was going to be odd, having the house to herself, except for the holidays when her son would be home. Mind it wasn't as if she had needed to do much; both her children, John and Karen, were very independent kids and had always helped around the house, espieally during and after the divorce. Just then she felt something brush against her leg and followed by a loud "meow." She glanced down at her feet.
"Ok, yes I know, I still have you" she told her cat, Boris, a slightly, well actually a very over-weight; tabby cat. He continued to curl himself around her legs and replied with another meow, probably meaning in cat speak: "hey, it's been a least two hours since you put anything in my bowl. I'm starving. Look at me; I'm wasting away, honest... I am!" She bent down, picked him up and gave him hug. Boris meowed in half-protest at the indignity of this.
She carried Boris over to one of the cupboards and pulled out a box of dried food. Placing him on the floor, she poured a generous amount into his bowl, spilling quite a bit , because Boris, in his eagerness to get to the food, had pushed his head under the box. "Oh, Boris" she gently scolded him, "you little pig." Boris was far too busy with the serious business of eating to notice either the food cascading over his head or the scolding.
"You just want me for food, don't you, like most men. As long as your belly's full you're happy?" Once he'd had his fill, he'd find a nice sunny spot in garden and have a kip, just like her ex-husband.
Oh well, she thought, best get on. No point moping and feeling sorry for myself she told herself again. If she didn't fight it, it would ruin her day, so she left the kitchen and went up stairs and on into her bedroom. As she entered, she began to undress, dropping each item into the clothes hamper.
Once she was down to her bra and panties, she considered what to wear. Hmmm it's warm out, so... I think I can get away with shorts and my old halter top. As she turned, she caught sight of her reflection in full length mirror that stood in the corner of her room.
She paused, slowly considering her near naked body. Hmmm not bad really, for a woman of 40... okay, 44. It was still hard to even think about that: 44! Where had all those years gone? Still on the whole, she thought, she looked good, and lets not forget you've had two children.
So, on the whole, the old girl was in good shape. Still... hadn't her husband run off, and then later, unbelievably, married an 18 year old girl! No matter how hard she tried to make light of that, it was still a blow to her self-esteem.
He was 41 and at the time, Karen, their daughter was the same age as his new wife! Karen kept referring to him as 'her father, The Pedophile'. Even though the girl was 18, she looked shockingly young in her wedding photographs.
The divorce and then the 'child bride' had been a real blow to her self-esteem, and for a while she'd wallowed in self pity. But, suddenly one day out of the blue, she had thought: fuck it, why should I let the bastard win? She started swimming again and cut out the self pitying comfort eating.
More importantly she threw herself back into her design business which had been in free fall for a while and in fact it had almost gone under. It was only the loyalty and patience of few key employees and clients that prevented it from happening. She went back to examining herself in the mirror.
She turned from side to side. Hmmm not skinny, but then not fat either, curvy; and her boobs remained firm and round. She definitely noticed men noticing them, and for that matter, boys too. Yet, despite this attention, she had found the few sexual encounters she had had with men disappointing sexually. Sex with them was sort of: in out a bit, then a groan, followed by them falling asleep, while she lay awake and often having to finish herself off. She sighed deeply again.
"Stop it! You're moping again" she told herself aloud. She turned and went over to her chest of draws and pulled open the draw which contained her summer garden clothes. She pulled out a pair of dark tan, cotton chino shorts and a light blue halter top. She stepped into the shorts and pulled them up with a little wiggle and buttoned them before reaching behind and undoing her bra. She slipped the top on, and tied the halter behind her neck. The she reached for some clips and fixed her hair into two bunches, so that it was up and out of the way, and then left the room.
At the kitchen door, she slipped into her gardening trainers, and went on out into her garden. For a while she just wondered around, followed by Boris, who was showing an surprising amount of energy. She planned in her head what needed doing before going in to the garden shed to collect the things she needed.
Soon she was completely engrossed in her work. The garden was her pride and joy, her little refuge, an oasis of calm and more recently, a significant source of food too. It was the garden that had been the reason for her wanting this house, most of it was hidden from view, and there had been space for a large lean-to green house, as well as a decent lawn, and space for a vegetable plot and even a small orchard.
One nice thing she would say about her ex-husband, and there weren't many; he hadn't left her or the kids in the lurch financially, so that in the dark days, she hadn't lost the house. Not that she needed his money now, because she didn't. What she received from him went too the children, to get them through university.
The hours slipped by, until, feeling hungry, she stopped for an early lunch. After she had finished eating a light meal, she sat for a while under her rose harbour, sipping iced lemon tea.