The Pool

Pete was old. He didn’t feel old, he didn’t think old, but when he looked in the mirror each morning, he saw a face older than he felt himself to be. It was perplexing.

But two facts reminded him daily, he wasn’t young any more. Each morning he woke up aching, and rolled out of bed. He had to stretch for several minutes to get the kinks out before he could start moving. There was that, and the matter of sex; a fond memory from the distant past.

Pete had an old boss once, who said he still chased girls, but couldn’t remember why. When Pete was young, he didn’t understand this. Now he understood perfectly. But he still liked to look at the ladies. He thought that must be built into his genes. Everything else might be a distant memory, but at least he still had his eyes.

The local recreation center had an olympic-size swimming pool, reserved for adults weekday mornings. When Pete retired, he and his wife started going there. It gave them some exercise, and something to occupy their time.

Most of the morning swimmers were retirees like themselves, and many made it a daily habit. A few serious exercisers swam laps, but most of the regulars congregated in separate groups of men and women, some exercising while they talked, others just treading water and shooting the breeze.

Pete had always been a people watcher, and he enjoyed speculating on the people who came and went. One couple was an enigma to him. Their names were Curt and Jesse. Jesse was upbeat and gregarious, Curt was taciturn, and private.

Curt was civil with others, but he kept to himself, and his manner didn’t encourage socializing. When he spoke to his wife, he was peremptory, and Jesse’s gaiety had brittle quality. Pete sensed there was stress in their relationship. Often, he saw Jesse looking at her husband with en expression that was a mixture of sadness and love.

Jesse was plump. When Pete first saw her in the pool, he thought she was typical of other women that age, but one day he watched her climb out of the pool, and his eyes widened. She had the broadest hips he had ever seen..

Her figure fascinated him. Her body was firm, not blubbery, her waistline well-defined, her massive hips swelling below, in an exaggerated heart shape. Her upper body was well-proportioned. As heavy as she was, you’d expect her ankles to be thick, but hers were thin and delicate. Pete searched for an adjective to describe her, but nothing came. There was something primal about her. Every physical characteristic that is essentially female, was exaggerated in her.

It came to Pete that Jesse resembled those ancient figurines of prehistoric Earth Mother goddesses. It made him wonder if the old carvings were modeled on real women, rather than idealized representations of female fertility, as commonly presumed. He was drawn to this woman. He began to fantasize about her, and was surprised to feel stirrings of his long-dormant sexuality.

A day came when the speculation and fantasizing ceased. He got up at his usual early hour, and left his wife in bed, sleeping quietly. When she didn’t get up at her regular time, he went to wake her. He opened the bedroom door, and a feeling of horror swept over him. She was unmoving, her eyes open wide, her body cool. She was dead. The authorities concluded she died of natural causes, a stroke or cardiac arrest.

Pete wasn’t sure how he survived the next few days, but with the help of friends and family, he muddled through, and began to pick up the threads of his normal life. Alone now, after many years as part of a couple, it was a major change. Pete planned to go back to the pool, but he was reluctant to face his friends. He remembered the discomfort they all experienced , when someone lost a spouse.

Two months passed. He missed the camaraderie, and one day, the need to reconnect outweighed his reluctance to face them. He went back to be welcomed like a prodigal son. There were changes, of course, some new faces, some old ones gone now, and he noted the single women in the group were looking at him differently. Some were speculative, some interested, and some seemed downright predatory. Curt and Jesse were both still there, Jesse looking strained now, Curt more morose than ever.

Pete slipped into the old groove, and soon things were back as before. One day, he noticed Curt and Jesse had stopped coming. Then he saw Curt’s obituary in the paper. He wondered what happened, but put it out of his mind. Weeks later, Jesse came back alone, looking sad and subdued.

Pete went to her, and offered condolence. They spoke briefly, then went their separate ways. He began to watch for her daily, and noted that her previous gaiety never returned. One day, he asked to take her to lunch.

“Why would you do that?” she snapped. He was surprised by her abrupt reply, and all that it implied, but he wasn’t giving up. He pressed on.

“I’m tired of looking at television alone over a bowl of canned soup. I need to get out of the rut. I think you do too. So how about it?”

Jesse was reluctant, but she was embarrassed by the bluntness of her first reply, and couldn’t think of a way to refuse without making things worse. She sighed, and said, “O.K.”

It was nearly noon, and Pete asked, “Are you ready to go?” She nodded. “O.K,” he said, “meet you in the lobby.”

They changed, then left together. Jesse was bristling. Wrapped in her own misery, she was upset at letting herself get roped into a luncheon date she didn’t want. Pete sensed her resistance, so he didn’t give her much choice. He just said, “How ‘bout The Diner?” She nodded.

The restaurant was nearby; family-style, good food, friendly service, a typical small, neighborhood restaurant, popular with the older set. Both had been there many times with their spouses. They went in and found a booth. The waitress knew them, and greeted them with a quizzical expression. “Hi Pete, hi Jesse, haven’t seen you two for awhile.”

Pete recognized the question behind her expression, and smiled. “Hi Mary Jo, we both were widowed several months ago. We decided to have a little change of scene for lunch today.”

Mary Jo was surprised. Her face fell. “Gosh, I knew you guys hadn’t been in for awhile, but I didn’t know anything like that happened. I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

Pete smiled again. “Well, you know we’re not spring chickens, and no one gets any younger. It’s coincidental we were both widowed at so nearly the same time.”

During lunch, Jesse was subdued. Pete tried to draw her out, but only managed to coax a fleeting smile. She was down and depressed. He was concerned about her.

They had arrived in separate cars, and when they left, Pete held her hand for a moment, and said, “See you in the pool tomorrow?” She nodded, and they drove away. Pete frowned. He had to do something to get her out of the dumps.

Next day at the pool, Jesse came to Pete. She was contrite. “Thank you for taking me to lunch yesterday. I’m sorry I wasn’t very good company.”

“Hey, I liked it fine. How about doing it again?”

She hesitated, and he pressed. “Let’s go tomorrow.”

Again, she couldn’t think of a polite way to refuse. She said, “O.K.”

Next day, when they met in the lobby, he noted she had fixed her hair. She wore a touch of makeup, and was more carefully dressed. It suggested she was beginning to take an interest in life, and it gave him a feeling of satisfaction.

Their lunches together became a daily habit, and he learned that Curt had been in law enforcement, that he lived for his work, and when he was forced to retire, he had sunk into deeper and deeper depression. He had always disparaged Jesse over her out-sized figure, and a lifetime of putdowns had affected her self-esteem. Pete concluded that Curt was a psychological abuser with problems of his own, but he sensed that , underneath Jesse’s poor self-image, lay a strong-willed, capable woman.

As Jesse responded to his kindness and support, her primal sexuality metamorphosed into something highly sensual for him. He didn’t know if the change was in her, or in him, but his attraction to her grew, and his rising libido pressed on him. The equipment he needed to satisfy it, however, did not rise accordingly. He was frustrated.

Her house had been neglected while her husband’s illness progressed, and Pete began to fix things for her. One day, he strained his back, and came inside to ease it.

“Jesse, I did something to my back out there. I need to lie down on your couch for a few minutes.”

She came over, a look of concern on her face, and told him to lie down. “Can I do anything,” she asked? “No, It’s just a muscle spasm. Had ‘em before. If I can stretch out a few minutes, it will probably go away. I could use a cool drink, though.” Pete sighed, as his back began to relax.

Jesse brought him a glass of iced tea, and sat down on the floor beside him. Considering her weight and age, he wondered how she was going to get up, but she surprised him. Her movements were fluid, showing amazing strength and balance. Certainly no teenager, nonetheless she got up easily, went somewhere for a few moments, then came back to sit down beside him once more.

Pete was drawn ever-more strongly to her, and he sensed her feelings had been growing for him, too. He yearned to make a move on her, but “performance anxiety” held him back. Now with Jesse’s face close to his, the feeling swelled to a crescendo; his frustration was intense. But Jesse’s need had grown in parallel with his, and she was wise enough to understand his reluctance. She made her own move.

She rose to her knees, brought her face above his, and looked into his eyes. Her hand slid down his chest and abdomen, to rest on his crotch. “Pete,” she said softly, “I want to suck your cock.”

He caught his breath. There it was. Time to fish or cut bait. He hesitated a moment, then reached up to caress the back of her neck. He nodded. “O.K., but there’s one condition. You have to let me return the favor. And don’t expect much. I haven’t been able to get it up for years.”

She smiled softly, fumbling with his belt buckle. “I think I can deal with that.” She opened his trousers, and said, “You better get these off. I need working room.”

Pete raised his hips, and slid the trousers down. She pulled them off to drop them on the floor.

She picked up his flaccid cock, squeezing it gently, turning it this way and that, examining it closely. She lay it up on his belly to caress the underside with her fingertips, then ran her tongue up and down the bottom of his shaft. Pete caught his breath, as he felt himself begin to swell. That happened, but he never really got hard. As his cock swelled, it fell to the side. She grabbed it, shook it, and squeezed it tight.

Pete’s eyes flared, as she stretched his cock, skinning it forward, sucking his protruding foreskin into her mouth, and flicking it with her tongue. Holding him tightly, she insinuated her tongue into the foreskin’s opening, and wormed around the little slit in the tip of his knob.

Pete groaned, and stirred, as exquisite sensations overcame him. Suddenly, she skinned him back with her mouth, and caught her teeth on the back of his knob. Sucking hard and holding him with her teeth, she pulled up again and again, stretching his cock, then releasing it, all the while maintaining suction.

The delicious sensations of a mounting erection slashed through him now. He cried out, and reached down with his hands to caress Jesse’s neck and ears. In his excitement, he noted she had one hand between her legs, fingering herself, while she mouthed his cock. That sight brought him up to a raging hard-on like he hadn’t had since his teens. He squirmed, and groaned, as waves of pleasure coursed through him.

Jesse’s own excitement controlled her now, her motions rapid and insistent. Her free arm was under Pete’s hips, and she was incredibly strong. He was pinned. Suddenly, he was at the brink. His orgasm was there. “I’m cumming,” he shouted, warning her, but she speeded up, and began deep-throating him, holding his bucking hips down with her weight.

He couldn’t have escaped if he wanted to. She was totally in control, and she growled gutturally. With his cock trapped in her mouth, her head rocked side-to-side, and her body shuddered in the throes of her own orgasm. Pete’s orgasm was intense and painful, as long-unused parts of his anatomy reacted, and he lay gasping. As their passion subsided, and they began to relax, Jesse was breathing hard, whimpering, and gently mouthing his cock.

One more hard suck and a deep thrust, and she slowly slipped her mouth off his cock. For a moment, she lay with her head on his belly, watching his now-subsiding erection, gently stroking him, while he caressed her head and neck. Then she raised her head, moved up to his face, and attacked him with a deep, drawn-out, intense, and satisfying kiss; the first they had enjoyed.

Pete’s emotions were indescribable. Jesse smiled at him softly, enigmatically, and caressed his face with her hands. “You’re a wonderful man, Pete. I built, and stroked, and dreamed that fantasy, and cherished it for forty years while I was with my husband, but he was always cold. Right now, I could die happy.”

Pete remembered their bargain. Quietly he asked, “My turn now.?” She put a finger to his lips, still smiling enigmatically, and shook her head. “Tomorrow,” she whispered, “You’ll be in better shape, and I have to do something to get ready.”

Pete didn’t object. Their lovemaking had been more intense than anything he could remember. It had taken the starch out of him in more ways than one. They stood up, and for the first time, he really held her in his arms. He could easily get around her waist, but the rest of her was more than an armful. Slowly, he slid his hands down her body, to feel the swelling of her massive hips. Desire rose in him again, and he caught his breath. He had a near-irresistible urge to pull her skirt down and caress the flesh underneath.

They held each other tightly for a moment, enjoying the afterglow, then separated, he with his hands on her waist, she, hands around his neck. She kissed him lightly, tears in her eyes. Suddenly, her eyes sparkled. “How’s your back now, buddy boy?”

He chuckled. “You’re a real miracle worker. You can cure backaches, and raise the dead, too.”

It was her turn to chuckle, then she became wistful. “Tomorrow, Pete,” she smiled, “I’ll see you in the pool.”

For Pete, the next twenty-four hours were an eternity. He was in an agony of anticipation over what they were going to do, and he was thirteen years old again; at least his cock was. At that age, your cock rises and fall of its own volition, without any external stimulation. That was Pete, overnight..

Next morning, time crawled. Finally, pool time was there, and the morning moved on. As Pete left the pool, he caught Jesse’s eye. She gave him a knowing smile, and moments later, she followed.

They met in the lobby, and he asked, “Shall we go out to lunch?”

Smiling, she squeezed his hand.“No. I’ll fix something at home, I’ve got a project for you.”

They arrived at her house, and went in. Both found it difficult to keep from rushing to their assignation, but she said, “Would you like some lunch first?”

Grinning, he shook his head. She chuckled lasciviously, “I didn’t think so.”

She took him by the hand, and led him to the stairway. “ Let’s go up. I’ve fixed a place up there.”

Pete had never been upstairs. The blinds were drawn, and when his eyes accommodated to the dimness, he saw a nicely finished attic, thickly carpeted. At one end of the room, a bearskin rug sat on the floor at the foot of a king-size canopy bed. The bedspread, too, had the look of fur, and a night stand on either side, held a glowing table lamp shedding a soft, seductive light.

With the low ceiling, the sloping walls, the soft light, and the furs, he had the sensation of entering a cave or grotto; a sanctuary, a shrine. There was a mysterious sense of the primitive here, and he had a momentary vision of flickering torches casting weird shadows over animal skins on an alter. His eyes widened, and he caught his breath.

As Jesse stood beside him holding his hand, he caught her scent, and his nostrils flared. She led him gently toward the bed, and turned to him, placing her arms around his neck. He held her arms gently, his voice hoarse, saying, “Jesse, I want to look at you.”

She smiled, and began unbuttoning his shirt. He took that as a signal to do the same, and they calmly undressed each other. As her panties hit the floor, Pete stepped back to look at her, and she slowly turned around in front of him. Her smile seemed to hold the wisdom of the ages.

Pete had seen her in a bathing suit, of course, but naked, was a whole new story. Her skin was alabaster. There was cellulite; she was no teenager, but her dimpled skin seemed natural, and aroused him further. Her massive hips, and exaggerated femaleness reminded him again of the ancient earth mother goddesses. He had a mystical sense that he had gone back in time.

He came close, and caressed her body, running his hands over her massive hips, around to her mound, and up her belly to her breasts. She quivered at his touch, and turned around to give him visual and tactile access to her whole body. His hands roamed with a mind of their own, as he stroked her.

When she faced him again, there was a hard, hungry light in her eyes. She pulled him to her fiercely, and they shared a lingering, hungry kiss. Suddenly, she fell backwards onto the bed, pulling him with her, squirming onto the bed, carrying him along. Again, her strength amazed him, and he helped, as he could, to bring them fully onto the bed.

They stretched out while she continued to hold him in the breathless kiss. He had a flash of fear that he would suffocate, she was so strong, and held him so tightly, but suddenly she released him, and pushed him down, saying, “Now, Pete.”

He rose to his knees and slid down her body to caress, and suckle her tits. Her hands were still on his shoulders, as she squirmed with sensation and desire. Then she pushed him down hard, and her command was urgent .“All the way, Pete, all the way, now!”

She opened her legs wide for him, he pulled back to look at her, and gasped. She had shaved all but a small tuft at the top of her mound, and the size of her organ matched the rest of her, her slit reaching from her pubic bone to her rosebud. Her pubis was a perfect little football, protruding proudly, enticing him. As he stared, a glistening droplet emerged, and oozed down her slit. The sight enthralled, and humbled him, and he prayed that he could do justice to what she had placed before him. He had a violent urge to bury himself in her.

Her labia were engorging with her arousal now, and they began to protrude, perfectly, evenly. Pete was breathing hard, and an odd feeling overcame him. It was as though he were outside himself, serving some fundamental essence of woman, and it

wasn’t happening for him, indeed, not even for her. He was not a grown man, he was an acolyte, serving at a shrine to the ancient Earth Mother. His eyes widened at the weird thought, but her plaintive cry brought him back to reality. “Pete?”

He bent to his task, breathed deeply of her scent, and blew gently on her slit. Touching his tongue lightly to the bottom, he slowly drew it up to the top. He did it again, this time pressing harder to separate her lips. She sighed, and squirmed at his touch, and now he licked all aroundr, tickling her rosebud.

He hardened his tongue, pushed it into the bottom of her slit, and she opened with an audible pop, her labia now fully engorged. He sucked them, and licked them up and down, one by one, then pulled them into his mouth together and sucked them, all the while running his tongue up and down between them.