Always an early riser, Mary loved walking her gated community for the exercise and fresh air. The sights and sounds of noisy geese flying in formation overhead peppered with the other sights and sounds of nature, chipmunks and squirrels scrounging for food, along with hawks eying their kill and crows scavenging for anything dead to eat, were diversions that she always enjoyed seeing and watching, but not today. Today, on a mission, more focused on walking as fast as she could, her wonderment of nature was replaced by the anticipated sexual satisfaction of herself. If she could drive to where she needed to go, she would, but there was no place to park her car. If she could run to her destination, as she used to, when she was younger, she'd sprint at a World's record pace to get there in her hurry.
Such a long time ago, when she had that kind of energy to run as fast as a deer through the forest without falling, if only she was younger, she'd make the changes in her life then that would have surely given her a better life now. Knowing what she knows now, now that she's alone with no one in her life, her only regret, she would have married and had children. The only time her thoughts turn to remorse over not marrying was when she ran into her 28-year-old neighbor, Sam, who lived next door with his dog, Snowball, a cute, little, fluffy white Bichon Frise.
A quality young, good looking man, he'd be the type who'd interest her. Yet, realistically, with nearly forty years differences in their ages, every time she thought of Sam in that way, old enough to nearly be his grandmother, she felt ashamed, embarrassed, and ridiculous. However her feelings of shame, whenever she thought of Sam in that way, she felt sexually excited. Inspiring thoughts she thought were forgotten, she felt wickedly wild every time she saw him. Wishing she could make love to him, she felt like a sexual cougar. Whenever she thought of Sam in that way, she touched herself, fingering her nipples and dipping her finger in her warm wetness, while rubbing her bean, before feeling sad that their union would never be.
Separated in life by two, long, life altering generations, what would someone like him want with someone like her? She was too old and he was so young. Yet, had she met someone like him in her youth, without a doubt, he'd be the one she'd marry. Nonetheless, tempted enough by his good looks and her horniness, in the way Mrs. Robinson seduced Benjamin Braddock in the Graduate, wondering what he'd do, invite her in or turn her away, she fantasized about knocking at his back door naked, holding only a bottle of wine.
Preoccupied with other sexual thoughts, with her feelings more focused on what waited for her in the forest than on Sam, she no longer took her leisurely stroll through the woods to soothe her mind and heal her soul. Desperate to get there, today was uniquely different than all the other days that she took her morning constitutional. Normally going for a leisurely, albeit brisk walk around the landscaped paths that snaked through her community complex of lavish townhomes and that were beautified with lush greenery, her walk ended at the duck pond.
Having lived here for several years, she never knew they had a duck pond. Now, while thinking how different she wished her life was, she'd sit on a bench feeding the ducks bits of bread she brought with her in her pocket. Tired of being so alone and living alone, no doubt, her life would have been so much better with the inclusion and accompaniment of a man, a friend, a partner, and a lover all rolled into one. Only, resigned to live alone, after having given up her search for her white knight years ago, unable to ever find such a man, she was now too old, too tired, and too disinterested in sex to continue to look. Yet, today, forgetting about her loneliness and her sexual frustration, when thinking about Sam, with the knowledge of what was waiting for her at the end of her hike at the duck pond, she quickened her pace.
On a mission to rendezvous with her lover, Mary walked to the pond to have deeply probing, purely penetrating, and unadulterated wanton sex, the kind of sex that every woman wished they could have, especially with a phantom lover, one that she doesn't even know his name. If only her priest knew the sexual slut she had so quickly become, she'd be so embarrassed. Promising to say extra Hail Mary prayers and put a little more money in the collection plate, she struggled not to feel so damn guilty over something that felt so extraordinarily good.
"Oh, my God. I can't wait to make love to him. I can't wait for him to take me and to fuck me. I can't wait to feel him inside of me. He makes me feel so alive. He makes me feel so young and so wanted. I hope he's still there waiting for me," she said already glistening with as much perspiration from walking at a very fast pace, as she felt moist from her secreting vagina, when thinking about having sex with her mystery lover.
In the way that she now preferred, wanted, and needed to have sex without all the complications, there were no introductions and no names. Without having commitments, there were no broken promises, apologies, and excuses. With no reason to see one another again, unless she wanted to, and boy did she ever want to have sex with her lover again, she and he, whoever he was, were free to come and go as they pleased. Yet, even though she tried acting so cavalierly cosmopolitan about her shocking new sexual behavior and random albeit erotically exciting love affair, had he suddenly disappeared and if he wasn't there, when she arrived, she'd be inconsolably devastated.
Yet, never wanting him to leave, fortunately for her and for now, he stayed. Perhaps, he enjoyed her as much as she enjoyed him. Perhaps, he didn't care that she was an older, mature woman. She didn't know. He never said. Whenever she wanted to see him again, as if he could read her mind, he'd be waiting there for her, even if it was in the middle of the night, which is the time she went there last night and here she is going back again this morning.
