Gosh I can’t believe it was 3 years ago when I wrote in after my hubby Colin suggested it.

The story I wrote was entitled “Geriatric help on the road to recovery – the creation of a hot wife”.  The experience I had was how I gave one of the elderly residents a cheeky blow job whist working as a care assistant. It was unplanned, never repeated despite his efforts to cajole me into another opportunity. My somewhat conscience-stricken mind given our age difference of nearly 40 years put paid to any further shenanigans.

After my first submission Colin asked (begged) me to write in again describing some other experiences I had throughout this time.

Here it goes...…..

Newly divorced and at 36 I started enjoying a number of dalliances with different blokes who took my fancy or showed an interest in me. I wasn’t interested in any relationships but if the bloke was nice enough and treated me well then I’d go on a few dates.

The first bloke I saw after my indiscretion in the care home was called Tony, about my own age - mid thirties, who was one of the delivery drivers at work.  Although he was married he was quite a bugger flirting with the ladies. Once he’d realised that I was divorced he started chatting me up.

Eventually after some smooth talking - I agreed to meet him one afternoon after work. Home was off limits due to my son returning from school so we arranged to meet at my mum’s house (she was in hospital at the time). I knew what the outcome of this was going to be and to be honest I was feeling horny.

As soon as he’d arrived we went straight upstairs to the spare bedroom like a couple of teenagers. He was like an octopus with his hands all over me - though I hardly resisted. Crudely without any finesse he fucked me on the bed with my tights and panties tangled around my ankle. Tony hadn’t had sex with his wife for 6 months since his youngest child was born so he was pretty het up. I wasn’t on the pill anymore but he told me he’d had the snip so there was no risk of any ‘accident’ happening. The whole thing was over in 15 minutes – hardly a romantic interlude. Whilst my mother was away for the next 3 or 4 weeks the springs of the spare bed were certainly put through their paces.   

I saw Tony for about a couple months but things sort of cooled off a bit and that’s when I met Michael who visited his elderly aunt at the care home. I finished seeing Tony and started dating Michael. He lived alone (widowed) and although he was in his early fifties was very sporty and energetic. After a few dates (we’d not actually been intimate) I went back on the pill as I anticipated it was only a matter time before we slept together.  

Michael had told me that he had a real nylon stocking fetish and that his late wife would frequently ‘dress-up’ for him. I wasn’t shocked or surprised as my ex-husband and Colin likes this as well. In fact, most men I’ve dated liked me wearing.  Michael was the first bloke who was smaller in height than me so it was strange the first time as I towered over him in his bedroom in my heels attired in my stockings and suspenders. We soon got down to screwing, Christ alive he had stamina.....I was actually getting a bit tired. It was a good 30-40 minutes of pure fucking till he came.

I liked Michael though we didn’t have much in common to be honest. We did meet up a few more times and the sex was pretty good. He started to get quite controlling insisting I wore stockings all the time even when we not together which bothered me a bit. One evening getting ready to go out my son came into the bedroom and saw me dressed in my stockings and suspenders as I was adjusting my skirt hem line. I dread to think what he must have thought.

After a few months with Michael I was getting a bit tired of his stocking fetish because every time we had sex I was expected to wear such items for him and even suggesting I went out without wearing any panties. Tony popped up on the scene again and we ended up having sex at my house one evening when my son was out.

I broke off with Michael and although I saw Tony a few times I knew this was a turning point for me. As I was breaking up with Michael and still being intimate I was also seeing Tony. I remember vaguely one lunch time Tony was at my house (home alone) and he fucked me on the lounge floor. Later on that evening I met Michael and he too was intimate with me.

Whilst I needed to protect my reputation I sought more opportunities to find different blokes.

This was when I started going out to ‘single nights’ in clubs and pubs outside my area where I lived. These were usually disco nights and I’m guessing most of the male clientele were either married or in relationships. I’d go with a work girl friend that was single and a few years younger than me. Even though I was 10 years older I used to get ‘hit on’ more than her.

After about a year I thought I could write a thesis of car manufacture designs particularly ‘back seats’.  In that time I must have gone with several blokes ranging in different ages from early 20’s to late 50’s. Some cases it was a fumble and feel about and if I liked the bloke I let him go further. On one occasion I went off with a bloke called Gary (a builder and really good looking) and we ended up in the back of his van. He must have been a serial shagger because he had a mattress in the van! The sex was not that good to be honest but no sooner had he done the ‘deed’ the door swung open and in came his brother. It wasn’t something I was expecting but still feeling a bit unsatisfied from Gary’s performance I allowed him to take me there and then. Christ he fucked me really hard and deep pounding away like there was no tomorrow. He was quite well endowed and I could feel him practically touching my cervix.  Strangely I found it quite a turn on being ‘used’ as a slut but I was however taken aback when I later discovered his brother had just been released from prison.

I cooled off from this scene of ‘pub pick ups’ and my next experience was something completely different if not unorthodox. My central heating system was playing up and I arranged for a local heating engineer (Steve) to come round for a look. He came over one Sunday morning and had a look saying that I needed a few parts to repair it. He wasn’t my type of bloke being a bit rough looking - thickset and absolutely plastered in tattoos. A few days later he phoned me saying the cost was about £500 pounds (which includes parts and labour). It was more than I expected and I was short of about £200. I asked if he’d drop the price if I paid in cash and although he agreed it was still too much. That’s where the conversation should have ended...…. but I never expected what by what he said next with a lecherous grin on his face as he studied up and down... “Tell you what darling I’ll ‘drop’ my price to £250 if you ‘drop’ your knickers”

I’ll write in with some fun times and maybe tell you about my response to this offer. .

Sheila