As stated in chapter one, all names are fictional.
My first submission of this got rejected on spelling grounds; to be on the safe side my spellchecker this time has adopted US rather than UK spellings. However "arse" and "darlin'" are deliberate, so I hope that the editors bear this in mind. Sorry for any spelling inconsistencies between this and chapter 1, but I wanted this to be posted soon, and judging by some of the kind comments, so did some readers!
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He let go of her hand and she went up the stairs ahead of him. He kept a couple of steps behind and gazed at the sensual sway of her skirt hem and its gentle flicking against the backs of her thighs.
Her legs were still shapely and her thighs were a little bit plump. Her legs were bare and looked slightly tanned, though he reminded himself that she had a naturally dark complexion, and the white, lilac-checked skirt contrasted deliciously with it. Under her skirt her bum was nicely rounded and shapely, and he gazed longingly at her skirt zip. It seemed to entice him, seemed to tempt him to slide it down even as they made their way up the stairs, though of course he resisted the urge. Through her blouse he could see the outline of the back panel and straps of her bra.
He could hardly believe it was happening. He had been excited enough at the prospect of meeting a stranger named Brenda for sex. Now he was about to have sex with the woman about whom in the past he had fantasized and masturbated more times than he could begin to guess.
At the top of the stairs she led him through a fire door and along the corridor to a door about half way down. She stopped at a door numbered fifteen and rooted in her bag for the key. She unlocked the door and stepped inside. He followed her. His wildest dreams were unfolding before him!
He made a few nervous, approving comments about the room, unsure quite what to do or say. She smiled at him, but she still looked as nervous as he felt. She placed her bag and the roses on the dressing table. She locked the door and left the key in the lock so that it could not be opened by any domestic staff. She stepped to the window and beckoned him over.
"That's the view I was trying to describe, darlin'," she said softly, drawing back the net curtain.
He stood beside her and looked out of the large picture window at the neatly maintained grounds and at the lake. He placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.
"It's lovely, Joan. This is quite a place."
She ran her eyes over him. He still looked young compared to her, but the bulge in his trousers aroused her. She wondered how many erections he had had as he thought about her, and whether he had masturbated to the thought of her. It was a sordid question, yet it fed her ardor.
She was determined to take things slowly and to tease him a little. It was her party as much as his, she told herself, and she was not going to let him take the lead entirely. Besides, she thought, he had hoped against all reasonable hope for years for this moment; another few minutes would not harm him.
She moved to one side, and to his delight she closed one floral print curtain, motioning him to do the same with the other. His pulse began to race.
"Why... why don't you sit on the bed, darlin? And... and close your eyes until I say..."
He did as she said, intrigued about precisely how things would develop, and excited that she was taking the lead. He felt slightly uncomfortable about having persuaded her to go ahead with this, and it was reassuring that she was now more than willing. He heard a soft rustling, then she invited him to open his eyes again.
She was standing by the curtains with her back to him. She was still fully dressed, but her blouse was no longer tucked inside the waistband of her skirt.
Mrs. Martin – for so he still thought of her – turned slowly round to face him. He looked into her face. Her short, blond hair suited her, despite his being used to her hair being dark. Her eyes were subtly made up, and her cheeks likewise. Her lips were nicely pink. She looked very sexy without appearing cheap.
Her blouse was unfastened apart from a couple of buttons over her belly. The white cotton hugged each of her ample breasts, and her nipples poked against it. It was obvious that she had removed her bra. As he looked he saw it lying untidily on the easy chair.
"You've seen the view from the window with the net curtains open. I... I hope you like the view as I open THESE curtains, darlin'..."
To his delight she unfastened the two remaining buttons and slowly peeled her white blouse open.
Her ample, ripe breasts sagged a little and looked fabulous. Her nipples were large and quite dark.
"It... it's a fabulous view, Joan."
"Is... is it as good as you expected, darlin'?"
"It's even better. I... I can't believe I'm seeing them naked. I... I've wanted to so many times."
"They used to be a bit smaller – and firmer, too," she said.
She raised her hands and scooped them under her mature orbs. She rocked them slowly up and down once or twice, then more rhythmically. He gazed, almost mesmerized by the sensual sight of her breasts as they surged and bounced.
"They're gorgeous, Joan. I love their size, the way they move..."
He looked up into her face, anxious to remind himself of the woman to whom they belonged. She gazed back intently at him, but she was smiling, evidently thrilled by his delight in her.
"I hope you like this view as well, darlin'," she said quietly.
She pushed her breasts together and up, pressing the supple flesh into a firmer shape, then relaxed the pressure once more. She was determined to take her time, to savoir every moment with her lustful ex-neighbor.
"Ohhh yes, Joan!" he replied, nodding his head enthusiastically.
His lust for her thrilled her, reaffirming her desirability and femininity. She also felt that she was getting a private, secret revenge for her husband's cheating on her.
She took her nipples between the finger and thumb of each hand and gently tugged on them, stretching them away from her breasts, watching his intense gaze and the movement of his growing erection in his trousers. She began to trace her hand over her plump belly, running it over her lilac-checked skirt.
She slowly raised the second finger of her left hand to her mouth. He watched her draw it into her mouth and suck on it. It looked deliciously lewd and suggestive. Then she moved her hand slowly down to her breast. Her finger was glistening with saliva and she traced it round her hard, proud nipple. The rubbery point flattened and stood up again as she teased it. It glistened with the traces of her saliva.
He looked up at her face, the face of his former neighbor whom he had desired so hard and for so long. She smiled encouragingly. He stood up to walk to her, but she held up the palm of her hand to him.
"Not yet, darlin'."
"But Joan... I want to..."
"So do I, Dave, so do I. But let's take our time. Lie on the floor..."
"On the floor, Mrs.. Joan? Not on the bed?"
"No, darlin'. On the floor."
He unfastened his shoes and tugged them off, then his socks, and eased himself onto his back on the floor.
Her sexy, shapely legs were only a yard away, and he looked up at the underside of her mature breasts, framed by her open blouse. She stepped closer and stood astride his head.
He gave a low gasp as he saw up her skirt. Her thighs were fleshy and she was wearing white lacy panties. Her skirt acted as a sort of pelmet, framing the erotic sight.
"No touching – yet – darlin'," she murmured. "You said you wanted to admire some views. Here's one..."
