Written by Cheryl
27 Feb 2018
the other me
- 7 Comments
- 5462 Views
6 minute read
I did not get out much, more or less trapped at home looking after my husband who had breathing problems. There were times when my only entertainment was looking out the front window at whatever was happening in the street. I had seen the 'for sale' board go up on the house opposite , which after a few weeks became a 'sold' sign. I watched the removal men empty the house, then another arrive with the new owners furniture. Over the next few days I saw the man I assumed to be the new owner working in the front garden. I guessed him to be about the same age group as my husband and I, retired , late 60s.
After lunch my husband always has a nap. When I know he is asleep I go out to do the shopping, or if it is sunny I work in the garden. I was in the front garden , pulling up the weeds, when I heard someone say ' hello' . I looked up and saw it was the new neighbour. We started chatting, he introduced himself as Harry. Being a nosy type I was soon asking him about himself, and discovered he was widowed, 68 years old, had decided to downsize as he was living alone. I told him about my husband , he said that if I ever needed help just to ask. We said goodbye, time to get on . Afterwards I thought what a nice man , so sad to be alone.
The next day, when my husband had settled for his nap, I decided to pop over to take Harry a slice of my homemade cake . I bake at least once a week. Harry invited me in , made me a coffee , and we sat chatting as if we had known each other for ages. He complimented me on the cake. I said I would bring him another slice tomorrow, then went home.
That night I could not help thinking about Harry, his laugh , his smile. It had been a long time since I had even thought of sex, but my mind full of Harry , I fingered myself to orgasm as I teased my own nipples.
When I went over to Harry's the next day, I was feeling excited but determined not to be silly and not to show it. We were in Harry's kitchen , him at the sink filling the kettle, talking about his rear garden. I was standing behind him, looking out the window, over his shoulder. He turned, and suddenly we were face to face, very close . It just happened, we were kissing , pushing up against each other , especially our hips. I put my hand on his crotch to feel his erection , stroked it as he put his hands up inside my top and unhooked my bra. I expected him to lead me upstairs but he took me into his sitting room , undressed me , sat me on the settee , parted my legs and started licking my pussy . I just closed my eyes and let it happen.
My husband was not someone who made love downstairs , nor did he perform oral. Our sex life was regular, always in bed, always before going to sleep. He was the only man I had been with, everything I knew I learnt with him. Now, here I was with an almost stranger , having sex on a settee , and loving it. Harry used his tongue and fingers to give me two wonderful orgasms, then laid me along the settee , lifted my legs and entered me. I was already fully satisfied, but could feel another orgasm building as he pushed firmly into me. It was the sound and feeling of him cumming inside me that brought me to my third orgasm. We laid there together, kissing, caressing , recovering. I could have stayed like that forever, but I knew I must get back to my husband. As I dressed I asked Harry if he would like more cake tomorrow , as much an innuendo as I could muster.
Sure enough, as soon as my husband was asleep, I went over the road. We went into the kitchen, supposedly to make coffee . We were kissing and groping , me expecting him to take me to bed or to the settee. But he turned me around so I was leaning over the worktop, eased my trousers and pants down , unhooked my bra, then slid his hard cock into me from behind. His hands were holding my breasts as he pushed in me. The feeling was amazing, I was being fucked for the first time in my life . He pulled his cock out, pushed my trousers and pants down to the floor , told me to step out of them, then parted my legs wider and drove his cock back into me harder. He was going wild in me, I was having orgasm after orgasm . I could feel my juices running down my thighs, splashing onto the floor . Harry told me to rub my clitoris , his balls bouncing on my fingers. I was telling him to fuck me , use me . I felt his cock go harder, larger, and then his cum shooting into me. He carried on thrusting in me, the floor between my feet getting wetter with every push. My legs were like jelly , my pussy throbbing . It took a few minutes before I recovered enough to clean up and get dressed.
Over the following weeks, Harry introduced me to a whole new way of having sex , always spontaneous . We tried so many different things together , new horizons for me, but we never went to his bedroom. At night I would watch porn videos to get new ideas to try out with Harry.
My husband's health deteriorated and I felt that I could not continue having my afternoon fucks with Harry . My husband did not last long , and after the funeral I went away for a month to visit my sister. When I came home I saw that my garden was neat and tidy, grass cut, bedding plants in flower. I knew instantly that Harry had done it . Despite being tired from the journey , I immediately set about baking a cake. I relaxed in the bath while the cake was in the oven.
Dressed in my sexiest underwear under a simple dress, I took the cake over to Harry. He was kindness itself, sympathetic, caring. I knew he would not make the first move, it was up to me. So I told him that he could have the whole cake if he wanted, making it plain that it was an innuendo.
He kissed me more romantically then ever he had before, took my hand and led me upstairs. I will end this story by saying he had the whole cake , and I mean the whole cake. In fact he still likes my cake, he gets it often enough.