The Weekend 32

A complete figment of my imagination, any similarities between the characters in this story and any persons either living or dead are purely unintentional.

The copyright for the following story is owned by the author and it may not be republished without his express permission.

Safe Sex:-

When writing works of fiction, safe-sex tends to get in the way of the flow and narrative of the text, so it is much easier for the author to ignore the perils of unprotected sex. Please remember, in real life, safe-sex is not so much an option, but a necessity in order to safeguard your future health

Just over 12500 words long, this story is intended to be enjoyed by consenting adults for their amusement. As always, feedback and legitimate criticism is welcomed by the author.

Please enjoy......

The Weekend

(Two days that re-awakened a young widow's sexuality)

Barbara Henson rested her arms on the balcony railing as she leaned forward and looked wistfully over the park opposite. Her eyes moistened as she scrutinized the beautiful rose garden where her late-husband's ashes were scattered. Sipping a glass of her favourite wine, the gorgeous 50 year-old widow marvelled at how much her life had changed in the last 6 years since that fateful weekend.

* * * * *

Early spring -- 2008.

Saturday 2:14am

"Oh yes... That's it, right there... Yessss..."

"Fucking hell Em... You're a horny bitch... I can't hold it much longer."

***

Barbara Henson moaned quietly as she pulled the duvet over her head. Perverse carnal images of what was taking place in the next bedroom were exciting her beyond belief, inflaming her vivid imagination and arousing her body in a way she knew her conscience would later tell her was loathsome and depraved. Her own rapidly rising passion was preventing her from ignoring the muffled sounds of energetic sex coming through the wall -- ruling out any chance of her returning to the peaceful slumbers she had been enjoying a few minutes earlier.

Frantically, the horny 44 year old widow and mother rubbed between her legs, her breathing getting ever deeper as she roughly stimulated her engorged clitoris. She was trying desperately to match the exact moment the couple in the next bedroom reached their own zenith; hoping to experience the kind of collective orgasm with them that she would be guiltily ashamed of almost before it was over. Her other hand, firmly pressed over her tightly clenched mouth, was attempting to muffle her own passionate moans, seeking to prevent the young lovers from hearing her joining them in their frenzied ride to orgasmic bliss as she determinedly pursued her own covert climax.

Saturday 2:32am

"Oh YESSSS... Keep it there... So good... I'm nearly there, keep going... Yes... Oh my God!"

"Here it comes babe, here it comes... Oh fuck, fuck, fuckkkkk..."

"Oh my God... FUCKKKK YESSSSSS..."

Next door, Barbara suddenly felt the climax she craved inexorably rising from deep within her loins. Chasing that absolute feeling of euphoria of all the blood in her body rushing toward her hot, sweaty sex, she could feel ripples of delight surging through her as her fingers delved into her sopping vagina. Wet squelching sounds of her hand uncontrollably thrusting rapidly in and out of her sodden opening seemed to be echoing obscenely around her quiet bedroom. Surely they could hear her? Know that they were not alone in their pleasure? Engrossed in her own blissful gratification, she was beyond caring, totally absorbed in her own delectable, orgasmic intoxication.

"Ohhhhhh... Yessssssss....."

she screamed into her hand, unable to prevent the loud sensual, moan erupting from deep within her heaving chest as her orgasm hit her like an express train,

"Oh my God... Yesssnnnnhhhh..."

* * *

Barbara had been awakened earlier by Emma and James' low moans and groans. Together with the rhythmic tapping of the bed-head against the thin wall separating the two bedrooms, the sounds of their love-making had gently roused her from her innocent dreams. Inevitably it seemed, every time the young couple stayed overnight in her apartment; every time they made love in the room next door to hers, Barbara would surreptitiously accompany them to their orgasmic peak with her own clandestine masturbation as she listened to their carnal shenanigans.

Afterwards, as always, she would feel repentant for being turned on by her intrusive monitoring of her own daughter having vigorous sex next door. She'd feel humiliated by her vicarious enjoyment of her own flesh and blood's uninhibited fornication. Silently she would curse the architect who'd planned the placing of her bed a mere twelve inches or so from the one the 22 year old slept in with her various lovers, ruefully wishing she'd had thicker internal walls built when having the huge loft of the family home converted into the luxury penthouse it was now -- maybe then she wouldn't be woken up by the sounds of hot, frenetic copulation every time her daughter brought her current stud with her whenever she visited.

* * *

Barbara didn't enjoy being a voyeur. She didn't really want to eavesdrop her daughter's sexual activities, even if they did turn her on more than she would ever admit. A typical middle-aged woman with what she thought of as a conventional and totally acceptable sexual appetite, she had her own healthy desires and fantasies to help her get by in her lonely bed at night. Sometimes, on the undeniably increasing occasions she felt particularly horny, they may have even bordered on being a little kinky. Nothing too outrageous though, just dreams of mild submissiveness and the desire for her enjoyment of sex to taken out of her control by a demanding, assertive man.

Throughout the twenty or so years she had been with Emma's father David before he was so tragically taken from her by that stupid drunk driver, Barbara had always enjoyed their varied and exciting love life. Her husband, the only man she had ever known

like that,

and the only person she'd shared her most intimate desires with, was the perfect lover for her. Gentle, loving, romantic, inventive, considerate, all the clichés the women's magazines advocated for a perfect lover, he always seemed to know when she was in

that

mood; when she was particularly lustful and wanted to be taken hard. Seemingly aware of her particular needs at any given moment, he satisfied her fully. His large penis, (well

she

thought it was large anyway, having no others to compare it to) had filled her welcoming vagina with all the wonderful sensations of sexual excitement only a woman truly in love with the man inside her felt when

her

man was taking her.

Despite being as close as any mother and daughter could ever wish to be, the two women had only once ever discussed the younger girl's carefree attitude to sex. What had Emma called it when her mother had brought up the seemingly ever-changing identity of her daughter's various sexual partners?

Fun-fucking,

that was it. Having sex just for the sheer enjoyment of it. No love or emotional ties of any kind, just plain, honest to goodness fucking. Barbara, in her role as a concerned mother, had tried to point out the dangers of such an easy-going approach to casual sex and in reply had been told, in no uncertain terms, that her daughter was well aware of all the pitfalls and that she took all the precautions necessary to assure her safety. Why shouldn't she have the same freedom that any boy of her age took for granted? She enjoyed sex. She very much enjoyed sex with different partners. So, until she met someone she wanted to spend the rest of her life with, she would continue to have her fun.

Barbara wasn't a woman who would condemn

anyone,

much less her own daughter

,

for having such a varied sex life out of wedlock. She wasn't a prude, nothing like the sort of judgemental, tight-arsed person who continually moaned about the falling standards of modern society. The frustrated mother didn't take exception to her uninhibited offspring's obvious enjoyment of the physical side of her relationships, instead she was happy for her and just glad that at least one female in the family was getting the kind of hard, energetic, joyful sex she craved for herself. The truth of the matter was that Barbara, a beautiful, slim, increasingly horny woman who was at the peak of her sexual potentiality, was becoming unbearably jealous of her daughter's unrestrained carnal activities.

The young widow

really

wanted a man. Outwardly reserved and conservative-looking, she had slowly become in need of sexual relief as her grief not so much disappeared as receded over the years following her husband's death. Like so many before her, the internet had provided the physical means with which to satisfy her lust -- she had been delighted to discover the Rabbit vibrator, in her admittedly limited experience surely the best invention ever for frustrated women. In her private moments she would thoroughly enjoy her new-found love for her plastic friend, using him to great effect whenever the mood took her. Usually spread-eagled on her back and holding him in place with her feet while she used both hands to twiddle her sensitive nipples, she would revel in the euphoric feelings of sexual delight spreading from her grasping loins.

Plastic toys weren't the same though, she wanted to feel the warm firmness of a man thrusting himself into her as their sweat-covered bodies writhed against one another. She wanted to be taken hard again, used as the sexual being she undoubtedly was. The beautiful, middle-aged woman wasn't particularly looking for someone to fall in love with.

That

had already happened to her. She had met, married and then lost, her soul-mate and still missed him desperately every day. If she did eventually meet someone, that would be great. If not? Well at least she had known the sort of true love not everyone experiences even once in their whole life. No, what the sexy, gorgeous, increasingly frustrated widow and mother really wanted, really needed, was to be vigorously and unceremoniously FUCKED...

* * *

Saturday 3:14am

Almost an hour after the three of them had enjoyed their separate but almost simultaneous climaxes, Barbara still lay awake in her bed. The barely discernible sound of young James snoring lightly next door wasn't what was preventing her from getting back to her dreams, instead it was the sticky, uncomfortable residue from her earlier self-induced orgasm that remained between her legs and was irritatingly thwarting her attempts to get back to sleep. Grudgingly deciding, that as she needed a pee anyway, she would have to go to the bathroom and clean herself, the sleepy-headed mother reluctantly dragged her naked body from under the duvet and tottered down the corridor to the beautiful, large and luxurious powder room that had frequently become her haven of tranquillity whenever she felt the need to be alone with her thoughts over the last few companion-less years.

Ever since she had moved back in after the conversion was completed, she'd regretted ignoring the architect's advice when they were planning what needed to be done. Stubbornly, she'd insisted on a single, shared bathroom rather than the en-suites he'd recommended, not seeing the point of having two sets of fittings and mirrors to keep clean when she would be alone in the apartment for the vast majority of the time. Of course, it had been much too late to change her mind once that the work had been finished and she'd finally realised how much more convenient it would have been to not have to leave the sanctity of her bedroom to relieve herself whenever she

did

have guests staying over.

Her brain slowly emerging from its state of slumber, Barbara sluggishly remembered she had guests and quietly closed the bathroom door behind her -- something she rarely did whenever she was alone and lounging around her home as naked as the day she was born. After relieving herself, she filled the sink with warm soapy water and washed her hands before using a soft flannel to clean the mess between her legs -- an action that inadvertently caused her still-sensitive clitoris to immediately respond to the contact by sending the thrilling sensations that she loved so much flying to her brain once again.

"Bloody hell, you're a horny old cow."

she softly whispered to her reflection in the mirror, absent-mindedly hand-brushing the bed-head from her hair and giggling to herself as she felt her sexual excitement rising once more. Drying herself, she laughed quietly as she shook her head and sent her cascading mane of jet-black hair tumbling gently onto her slender shoulders,

"Mm-mm, not bad for an old bird, still shiny and black like when you were a teenager all those years ago."

she observed proudly, smiling as she checked for any signs of the dreaded grey.

Her warm hands then slowly moved down her body until they were firmly cupping her breasts. Massaging the spectacular orbs that were her pride and joy, she inspected them thoroughly -- just as she did every morning. The large, firm mounds stood proud against her chest, still high enough to be the envy of girls half her age and yet soft enough to jiggle delightfully when they were naked and unfettered. Satisfied with the careful inspection of her prized assets, she tweaked her prominent nipples, wickedly enjoying the delicious pain of twisting the hardening rubbery nubs roughly between her fingers. Her amused gaze then followed her hands, moving slowly down over her smooth flat belly to the junction of her long, beautifully-shaped legs.

"Bugger me, you need to do a bit of pruning girl,"

she laughed to herself softly, running her fingers through the thick bush of curly hair that nestled between her thighs and totally obscured that special entrance to her body,

"Maybe you should take it all off? - everyone else seems to be doing that nowadays,"

she giggled, running her hands through the pubic forest and gently caressing her freshly awakened clitoris with her fingertips. Excited by the furtive touch on her engorged little button, she lewdly licked her fingers clean before reluctantly suppressing the building excitement in her loins. Shaking her head slowly, her expression saddened as she looked at herself in the mirror. Her thoughts turned again to her loneliness and sexual desires, causing her to sigh wistfully before grumbling, only half-jokingly,

"Why bother though, no-one else ever gets to see it do they?"

After draining the sink and placing the towel in the laundry bin, Barbara opened the bathroom door and made to leave, only to find herself immediately confronted by a 6'3, muscular, and

very

naked, hunk of manhood called James, the young man who just an hour before had been the subject of her fantasies as she brought herself off to the sounds of him having energetic sex with her daughter Emma. Recoiling back from their full-frontal contact, she couldn't help but notice the long, thick penis that rested limply on top of a massive pair of balls between his powerful thighs.

Startled by the unexpected encounter, Barbara frantically tried to cover her naked breasts with her arms, all the while seemingly unable to draw her eyes from the swinging appendage. Unfortunately unaware that she was actually saying the word out loud, she whispered,

"WOW!"

as she stared inappropriately at the boy's rapidly rising phallus.

"Wow yourself, Mrs. 'Aitch..."

she dimly heard him say, her attention unwilling to be dragged from the gorgeous sight in front of her.

"I'm so sorry... Please don't... Oh God, please don't look."

she managed to mumble, only too aware that she was blushing with embarrassment, her whole body suddenly feeling hot and flustered from head to toe.

Barbara tried to push herself past the lewdly grinning young man as he made no attempt to move out of the way and let her through. She gasped at the sudden surge of arousal centred between her legs and induced by their naked bodies unavoidably rubbing against each other. Her impulsive and disturbing excitement threatened to overpower any feelings of embarrassment as her lustful thoughts were further inflamed by the tips of her breasts bursting into life at the stimulation of being scraped across his muscular chest,

"Oh my God!"

She heard herself moan involuntarily, the provocative sensation of his now rock-hard manhood brushing against her firm belly sending improper thrills shooting through her loins.

Mortified by her naked confrontation with a virtual stranger, but even more so by her unwelcome horniness, the distraught Barbara felt her sensitive clitoris throb as the intimate contact between her soft womanly body and his unyielding male hardness caused her sexual longing to inexorably rise even higher. Eyes firmly shut, not daring to look at him, she felt his hot breath on her face as she attempted to squeeze herself through the tiny gap between him and the door jamb.

"Not at all, Mrs. 'Aitch, It's my pleasure entirely...Great bush by the way."

She faintly heard him chortle as he cheekily slapped her bare backside before she had the chance to get away from him and set off running down the corridor as fast as her long legs would carry her.

Finally reaching her bedroom door, she glanced back toward him. James, grinning like a child on Christmas morning, remained leaning on the door-jamb, arms folded across his magnificent chest as he watched in open-mouthed admiration of her beautiful bottom. After having one last, lustful, look at his turgid penis, the humiliated Barbara dived into the sanctuary of her bedroom and slammed the door firmly shut behind her...

* * *

Saturday 3:27am

Safely back into the quiet privacy of her bedroom, Barbara leaned her naked back against the reassuringly solid door and slowly sank to the floor, desperately trying to relax and get her pulse and breathing back to normality. Her mind was racing as a maelstrom of shameful thoughts bounced around in her muddled head.

"Oh my God... What the hell just happened?... That was so bloody embarrassing... How on earth am I going to face him in the morning after him seeing me like that? - he's seen me naked for God's sake... All of me... Everything...I've seen him too, bloody hell, have I seen him too...

The shocked woman's eyes glazed over as she mused wistfully about the aroused male nakedness she had just witnessed.

"My God Emma, you're so damn lucky...

W

hat a great body that boy has, so young and firm, so gorgeously hard. Those firm manly thighs, his hard muscular chest, that six-pack... All so damn sexy. His eyes too, so sensual, so damned arrogant. My God, the cheeky young pup even slapped my bare arse... Oh my God, I saw his penis... His beautiful, gorgeous, hard COCK..."

Even with the chagrin she was feeling, and despite her rueful embarrassment, Barbara couldn't help but notice just how wet her sex had become once again; how, despite everything, she felt so horny at that moment she would probably cum at the merest inadvertent touch on her throbbing clitoris. She just knew the image of that young, hard body with his impressive penis rising almost vertically from his groin would be indelibly imprinted in her memory; knew that her daughter's latest boyfriend would be an integral part her own illicit fantasies for the foreseeable future...

Eventually, after her breathing had calmed down, the shame-filled mother managed to drag her quivering body back to bed and crawled under the welcoming duvet, covering herself completely with the soft cloud of Egyptian cotton and Duck feathers. Curling her nakedness into a tight ball as she hugged her knees to her ample breasts, she admonished herself quietly,

"Why the hell didn't you put on a robe, you stupid woman? And why the hell did he have to need the toilet at the exact same time as me?... Oh my God, It's going to be so bloody embarrassing tomorrow you dozy bugger."