The year I turned twenty-three didn’t start out very well at all. First off, I lost my job, and the reason they gave me was that I just wasn’t performing well enough. That kind of thing is always hard to take. Then, to round things off completely, my girlfriend dumped me. She told me that losing my job was the last straw, and she was sick of playing second fiddle to my inferiority complex, even though I never knew I had one, until she told me about it. I still think she was exaggerating.

So, there I was, with no job, no girlfriend, and a giant hole where my ego should have been. Ironically, it was my now ex-girlfriend’s mother who helped me out. She worked part-time as a receptionist for a local doctor, who had a few elderly patients at a nursing home, not far from my place, and she put in a word for me with the director of nursing, and the next thing I knew, I got a call from the admin clerk at the nursing home. She told me if I wanted to come for an interview, they might have a job for me.

Naturally, I went down there the very next day.

The job they offered me was as an assistant in nursing, basically the lowest rung on the ladder in the nursing field, and requiring only on-the-job training, but I needed a job, so I signed on. The admin clerk told me I was to start on the following Monday.

I turned up as directed, and my first day on the job was an orientation day. I found that this particular place had a buddy nursing system, where the nurses were assigned permanent partners, and they worked the same shifts together, five days a week. I also found that there were only two other men working in the place. One was a middle-aged male nurse who did permanent night shift, and the other was the gardener/handyman. Most of the women who worked there were at least a few years older than me, and I was told my partner’s name was Lauren, but she was off sick that day, so I didn’t get to meet her straight away. Apart from telling me her name, no one told me anything about her.

The next day, I started my shift, and I was introduced to Lauren, my new partner. Lauren looked to me to be about my mother’s age, but in all honesty, she was a lot better looking. She wasn’t very tall, about five feet five or so, with fair skin, blue-grey eyes, and light brown hair that she wore in a bun at the back. However, there was no getting away from it- she had a total hourglass figure, and her breasts were, quite frankly, large. They weren’t massive, and they were still in proportion to the rest of her, but they were large, full and rounded in shape, and it seemed that gravity had been kind to them over the years, because they were high and proud on her, although perhaps she just wore a good quality bra, for all I knew. For a woman her age, Lauren seemed pretty well-preserved, and her light brown hair had only a few touches of grey that I could see, and even then you had to be up close to spot them. Her face was pretty smooth, with just a few fine lines around her eyes, and once again, if you got close enough, there was the odd broken capillary, but all in all, my first impression of Lauren was that, although she was no raving beauty, she was a woman who gave middle age a good name.

Over the next few days, working eight-hour shifts together, I felt I was getting to know Lauren really well. We worked side by side the whole time, just like all the other nurses and their partners, and since many of the patients suffered from dementia and had nothing much to say, it was almost like being alone together for most of the day, except for our coffee and meal breaks. So, we talked and talked, about all manner of subjects. I found Lauren to be a very interesting person to talk to, because apart from my parents, I didn’t have much contact with people her age, so her perspectives were all new to me.

I didn’t see her as hot, or even sexy, although I thought she looked pretty good for an older woman, but over the first few weeks, I began to notice that she was always perfectly groomed, her eyebrows were plucked, and she wore just a touch of makeup to work, just enough to accentuate her features. Lauren’s uniform was always immaculate when she came to work. She seemed to have a preened, stylish look about her, even though she was only dressed in her uniform, and I recall about the third week I worked with her, as we made our way around the wards, I thought to myself, When I’m in my fifties, I’d like to have a wife who looks as good as that.

During the first few weeks or so, I learned Lauren’s life story, as we walked around the wards, doing our work together, and talking the hours away. Naturally, she didn’t just sit down one day and say, “This is my life story,” but there would be a story here, an anecdote there, or she would give her opinion on something, and relate it to some of her life experience, and eventually, I learned Lauren’s story.

Lauren had been born in England, and emigrated to Australia with her family when she was nine. Her mother had sent her to deportment classes as a young teenager, and this had led to her doing some modelling in her late teens and early twenties. I was surprised to hear this, because I had always thought models were tall and thin, but when I mentioned that, Lauren told me that, even in the 70’s, there was a demand for girls with what she described as “womanly” figures like hers, especially for swimwear modelling. I started to see Lauren in a slightly different light after that.

At the age of twenty, Lauren met her first husband, and married him a year later. She gave birth to her first son at twenty-four, and then had another son three years later, but at thirty-one, she divorced her husband, because he had become controlling and abusive, and their marriage had fallen apart. She had brought her two sons up as a single mother for the next ten ears, and at the age of forty-one, she had married her second husband, whose name was Dougie. It appears Dougie had always been fond of a few beers, but in recent years his drinking had gotten worse, and his behaviour more erratic, to the point where he had already lost one job due to drinking, and was now working as a removalist. Lauren told me she still loved the man she married, and was trying to hold the marriage together for his sake, but I got the impression things were not altogether happy at home.

I also got the impression that the booze was turning old Dougie into a bit of a dud in the sack department, although of course, Lauren didn’t just sit down and tell me this, but it was just a few things she said here and there.

In the place where I was working, the female nursing assistant’s uniform consisted of a pair of dark blue slacks, with a lighter blue blouse that was worn out over the slacks. It was cut conservatively around the collar, to preserve modesty, with all the bending and lifting that nurses do, but it was also shaped slightly, with darts underneath the bustline. On Lauren, the shaping of the blouse tended to emphasise her full, rounded breasts. One day, early in the piece, Lauren and I were getting an elderly man with dementia ready for his lunch, and he was a big guy, who was resisting our efforts to sit him up, because he could not understand what we were doing. We were both bent across the bed on opposite sides, lifting and straining, and for a brief moment, Lauren’s blouse fell open at the collar, and I realised I could see her full, creamy, rounded breasts, encased in a conservative white lace bra.

I looked away immediately, but I had seen enough to learn that Lauren’s breasts had weathered the years pretty well, with no stretchmarks that I could see in that brief moment they were on display. Then, a moment or two later, as she bent forward again, I took a quick second glance, and once again, they looked to be in pretty good shape.

I don’t know if Lauren had seen me looking, but after we had positioned old Mr Earnshaw in his bed, she stepped away, and turned her back as she adjusted her clothing again. I felt a brief flush of shame, in case she knew I looked, but then as she stood with her back to me, I couldn’t help noticing that her bottom was still pretty tidy for a woman her age. It was nice and rounded, without any sag that I could see, and as I looked at her panty line, I found myself wondering what sort of knickers she was wearing. Then, it occurred to me, I’m looking at a woman old enough to be my mother, and undressing her with my eyes.

If Lauren had noticed me looking down her blouse, she never mentioned it, but I began to wonder just how old she actually was after that. Naturally, I couldn’t just ask her, even though we were discussing all sorts of subjects during work hours, but about a week after that, she came to work on an afternoon shift, with an old valise. “I was doing some spring cleaning on the weekend,” she told me, “and I found this in one of my cupboards. I thought you might be interested.”

She pulled a few things out of the valise, including an old passport, and some photographs. She told me the passport was one she had been issued about a year after she was married, when she and her first husband had gone overseas, and she said, “This is what I looked like when I was your age,” as she showed me the passport photo. I looked at her date of birth in the passport, and I saw that it would have made her fifty-one years old, just one year younger than my mother. The picture showed her at about twenty-two, and she was no raving beauty, but she had a pretty face, and a lot of style about her. It was the sort of pretty face that would make a man look twice, and want to get to know her better.

“What else have you got in there?” I asked, looking at the valise.

“Some stuff from my modelling days,” Lauren answered, as she pulled out some glossy photos, and magazine clippings. I wasn’t sure why Lauren wanted to show me what she looked like when she was young, but I was kind of keen to see more of her, after I saw her old passport photo.

The fashions were very seventies, with short skirts, platform soles, and cheesecloth blouses, but the pictures showed that Lauren was a real looker back then. Even so, there was no getting away from it; I could see that she always had big boobs. There were a couple of swimsuit shots, one in a peacock blue satin bikini, and one in a pink one-piece, and her cleavage was nothing short of spectacular, especially in the bikini shot.

“You had a good figure,” I said, understating the obvious, but I was thinking, You were totally fuckable back then, while I checked out her tits, as they were all those years ago, and let my eyes stray to the outline of her pussy in those blue bikini pants.

“Well, all good things come to an end,” Lauren said, looking down at herself. I wasn’t sure if I should say anything, but the truth was, apart from a little thickening around the middle, she still had a pretty good figure for a fifty-one year old, and the thought crossed my mind that if boozy old Dougie wasn’t giving that body some loving attention on a regular basis, then something was seriously wrong with him. Lauren had kept herself looking good long after a lot of women had given up, and if my suspicions were correct about her marital life, then it was all being wasted on a drunk.

Just then, the shift supervisor came into the room, and asked to speak to Lauren, so she left me at the table with her valise. I saw an old magazine in there, so I took it out and found it was a late 1970’s edition of Gateway magazine, which was a kind of weekly variety mag that they stopped publishing a few years back. They always used to have a picture of a girl in a bikini on the front cover, and then a few more pics of her inside on page four, and there on the cover was Lauren, in that blue satin bikini. The picture was taken from down low, so you couldn’t see much of her cleavage, but just the same, there was no ignoring those full, round, grabbable tits, and the angle of the sunlight was emphasising the outline of her pubic mound, underneath her blue bikini bottom. The picture was sexy, but in a playful way.

On the bottom right hand corner of the front cover, the caption said, “This week, our Gateway photographer catches up with 19 year old Lauren MacIntosh at Cronulla Beach – more pictures on page 4,” so I opened the old magazine for a look. There were six pictures on page four, in various poses, mostly pretty tame, but in one shot, she was on all fours, in that blue bikini, shot from behind, and looking back at the camera with a playful, inviting smile. She could just as easily have been playing leapfrog, and even though it was a long way from being pornographic, the message was there, Yes, we could do it like this, and I think I’d like it. The thought crossed my mind, She was nineteen years old then, and probably had a boyfriend. I wonder if she’d ever done it in that position.

My train of thought was interrupted by Lauren’s voice, saying, “That was a long time ago,” and I looked up to see her looking over my right shoulder, at the magazine. I was looking at pictures of a sexy girl in a bikini, shot before I was even born, but I realised my cock was half hard. Maybe it was because I hadn’t been with a girl since about a week before my girlfriend left me, but I looked up at Lauren, and said, “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but you’ve actually kept your figure pretty well.”

I said it with a smile, in a casual kind of way, so she wouldn’t think I was some young perve with a mother complex, but she just smiled, and said, “Well, that’s a nice compliment.” Then, she turned to place her empty coffee cup in the sink, and I was a little surprised to hear her say, in a softer voice, “It’s a pity it doesn’t get that much appreciation at home.” I took a breath to speak, but then I decided it probably wasn’t appropriate to explore that particular conversational opening.

I worked in that nursing home for a little over a year, and in that time I got to think of Lauren as a friend, even though she was over twice my age. We worked side-by-side, five days a week for the whole time, except for her annual leave, and we told each other all sorts of things about ourselves. Now and again, she would tell me about the latest stupid thing Dougie had done, as his boozing got worse, but at the same time, she would tell me how she was trying to keep their marriage together, because deep down, he was still the same guy she married. I was only 23 years old myself, but even then, I knew it was a lost cause, but I didn’t tell her that. I would just listen, and offer a sympathetic ear, because I really wasn’t qualified to give marital advice.

During my time at the nursing home, I realised where my calling was in life, so towards the end of the year, I applied to be trained as a registered nurse, and in time I was accepted. I had to give up my job to start my training, and to my surprise, the girls all got together to arrange a farewell for me at a local tavern. This was a bit of a tradition there, when someone left or moved on, so it wasn’t just me getting special treatment, but we decided to meet at the tavern on the Friday evening after my last shift at the nursing home.

On Monday morning, with four days left to go, I met Lauren at the start of our shift, but she was not her usual self. After an hour or so, I asked her if everything was okay. “It’s Dougie,” she said, shaking her head, “He came home drunk on Saturday night, and fell on the coffee table, and broke it.” She sighed, and went on, “Then, he got up and stumbled, and fell through the china cabinet. He’s lucky he didn’t hurt himself, but the place was a mess, everything broken like that.”

“Oh, no,” said, not really knowing what to say, and not really offering much.

“I waited till he was sober to talk about it, the next morning,” Lauren said, sitting down on a chair next to an empty bed in the ward, “and I told him it was either the booze or me. He had to make a choice.”

“So, what’d he say?” I asked.

“He left,” Lauren said, her face crumpling, “He left to go and stay at his brother’s place at Bathurst,” she started to cry, “ and his brother’s nothing but a drunk himself. It’s like Dougie chose the booze over me.” She started to sob, and I took a tissue from a dispenser on the wall, and handed it to her. Lauren wiped her eyes, and after she composed herself, we continued on with our work, but I couldn’t help thinking, This Dougie is a loser!

Over the next few days, as we worked through our days together, Lauren would occasionally get teary, or she would fall silent and brood about her problems at home, and I would try to do what I could to comfort her. I wanted to say, “Fuck Dougie. You’re better off without him,” but I didn’t think that was what she wanted to hear.

On Friday, my final day at the nursing home, Lauren and I finished our last shift together, and I said, “You coming tonight?” I thought, with her problems at home, she night not feel like socialising, but she smiled and said, “Just try and keep me away.” Then, her face got more serious, and she said, “Simon, I know you’ve got your future to think about, but I’ll be sorry to see you go.”

“I won’t be far away,” I said, smiling back, “I’ll come and see you.” Although I had come to see Lauren as a friend, I thought she had just said that to be nice, but she added, “I’ll be really sorry to see you go. You’ve been a real friend to me, especially this last week, with Dougie leaving and everything, and me crying on your shoulder all the time. You’ve been really understanding.”

“That’s what friends are for,” I answered, hoping she didn’t get all teary on me again.

That night, I arrived at the tavern as planned, and found most of the other nurses already there. Most of them had their husbands or boyfriends with them, as well. We adjourned to a bar on the upper floor, with a balcony overlooking the street, and I noticed Lauren sitting and talking to a couple of other nurses. She was wearing a white blouse with short sleeves, and a caramel coloured skirt that was about mid-length, with no stockings, and I could see that she had a pretty good pair of legs. Her blouse showed some of her impressive cleavage, and until then, I had never seen her in anything but her nurse’s uniform at work. She had her hair down, rather than in the bun she kept it in at work, and with her hair out, she looked a little younger, but not in a mutton-dressed-as-lamb sort of way. She looked smart, attractive and stylish, and I noticed a couple of guys checking her out as she stood up and walked across the room towards me. “You made it,” she said, with a smile.

“Yeah,” I answered, “here I am.”

The girls started off the evening by giving me a gift, and a big greeting card, wishing me all the best for the future, with signed messages from each of the girls, written inside it. There were the usual “Good Luck” messages, and a few smart remarks, like “Hands off the young nurses,” but the message from Lauren said, simply, “Good Luck, Simon, you deserve it. You are one of nature’s gentlemen”.

I had a couple of beers, and spoke to a few of the other girls for a while, and about an hour after we started, I looked around and noticed Lauren was missing. I looked out on the balcony, and I saw her in the dark, looking over the railing at the street below, so I walked out and said, flippantly, “Don’t jump. It’s not worth it.”

Lauren turned her head, and smiled, and said, “Things aren’t that bad yet.” She turned to face me, and I saw she had a glass of white wine in her hand. She took a sip, and set her glass down on the railing. “Thanks for the kind words today,” she added.

“Glad to help,” I said, “I just hope things work out.”

“I think it’s over,” Lauren said, looking down at the ground, “I think Dougie’s a lost cause.”

“He’s the one whose losing out,” I said, and Lauren looked up at me, “Look at you,” I said, gesturing towards her with my arms, “Any guy who’d rather spend his life pouring booze down his throat than be with someone like you needs his head examined.”

“You’re sweet,” Lauren said, and she moved forward and kissed me gently on the left cheek. It wasn’t a sexual kiss, it was a kiss of affection, but I could feel the warmth from her body, and I could smell her light, sexy, stylish perfume, and I felt a little wave of excitement. I found myself almost wishing it was a sexual kiss. Then, after Lauren had kissed my cheek, she held her face close to mine, with an odd look in her eyes. I felt for a moment that she was about to kiss me on the lips, and I thought, I must be reading this wrong. Surely she’s not going to kiss me like that.

Then, after that brief moment, Lauren took a breath, and said, “Simon, I think we better go inside and join the others, before I do something I might regret.” She picked up her drink, and we walked back towards the door that led inside. As we walked side by side, Lauren rested her hand on the small of my back for a few steps, until we got to the doorway, but she took it away as we walked back in. We rejoined the others, and someone said, “Don’t you two see enough of each other at work?” and there was a ripple of laughter, and a few murmurs of conversation, and I heard another voice say something about being “joined at the hip.” Lauren and I separated, and we started talking to some of the other people.

In time, the evening ended, and gradually the other girls started to leave, until there were only Lauren, myself, and two other nurses left. After they had hugged me, and wished me luck, they also left, so finally, there was just Lauren and me in the bar. Neither of us spoke for a moment, and Lauren looked at me and said, “I don’t live far from here. Would you like to come home with me for some coffee? It’s only a short walk.”

I had taken a taxi to the tavern, in case I had a few too many beers to drive home, but I hadn’t had much to drink at all, anyway, so I said, “Why not? I’m sure I’ll be in good hands.”

“Come on,” Lauren said, smiling, as she took my right arm, and we headed for the door. It was only a ten-minute walk to her place, and we walked along in the dark, talking about the evening we had just had, and some of the gossip we had heard at work over the last few days. I was enjoying the conversation, and we had a couple of laughs along the way. Now and again, as we walked under a street light, I would steal a glance at Lauren’s cleavage, or if the breeze was right, I would catch the scent of her sexy perfume, so light, but still so alluring, and I would feel that little ripple of excitement going through me.

We walked into Lauren’s yard, and headed toward the front door, and when we reached it, she put the key in the lock and turned to me, swallowed, and said, “You know, Simon, I may never see you again after tonight, so I may as well say this,” she paused, dropping her gaze, there in the half light from the street, “Sometimes, you make me wish I was thirty years younger.” She looked up, biting her lip, as though she was unsure if she had said too much.

Now it was my turn to swallow. I put my hands on her shoulders, and I said, “Remember those pictures of you on the beach? In the blue bikini? “ She nodded, and smiled, remembering.

“I think I’d like to have known you back then,” I said, and she looked up, making eye contact, “but I didn’t.” I shrugged, and paused, not knowing if I should go on, “But, the two of us are here now, and, ” I paused again, trying to get the words right, and settling for, “I, umm, like what I see, and if you, ahhh,” stumbling over the words, clearing my throat, “feel the same, you know…… “

I ran out of words, and I felt like I had overstepped the mark by saying that much anyway, but Lauren rescued me from my awkwardness, taking my arm again, as she opened the door, and saying, “Come on, lets go in, and have some coffee.” She had a smile on her face, but a kind of far away look in her eyes.

Lauren’s house was as neat as a pin inside, except for the space where the coffee table should have been in the lounge room, and the broken door on the china cabinet, and she turned, to me, spread her arms, and said, “This is my house.”

She gestured towards the lounge room, and said, “Make yourself at home,” as she hung her handbag on a doorknob, and added, “I’ll put the coffee on.”

I followed Lauren out to the kitchen, and she turned to me and said, “Instant? Or, percolated?”

“Percolated would be nice,” I said, smiling back at her as I stood in the kitchen doorway, leaning against the woodwork, “That’ll give me an excuse to stay longer.”

‘You don’t need an excuse,” Lauren smiled back, “I don’t think either of us has to be anywhere right now.” I walked over to where Lauren was filling her percolator with water at the sink, watching her as she added the coffee, and then plugged it in. I could see her cleavage, and the way her caramel coloured skirt followed the shape of her thighs, and once again I could smell her sweet, light perfume, stronger in the confines of the kitchen. For a moment, I could almost imagine how it would feel to take hold of her, and hold her against me. I felt like I wanted to do just that. I felt like I had been given something of an invitation at the front door, but I was unsure of making any moves, in case I had misread the situation, and she ended up kicking me out of her house, for coming on to her when she was just being nice to me.

Lauren switched on her percolator, and continued looking at it, as she said, thoughtfully, “There, that’ll take about fifteen minutes.” She seemed to take a deep breath, and sigh, and she glanced sideways at me, and then back down, like she was about to say or do something, but had changed her mind. After a second or two of staring at the percolator, she said, “And, in the meantime,” and she turned to me, and said, “I’m going to do this.” She stepped forward, put a hand on each side of my chin, and kissed me on the mouth. This was no gentle kiss of affection, like she had given me on the balcony at the tavern. It was a sweet, soft, and sexy kiss, that took me by surprise at first, but she held it long enough for me to put my arms on her shoulders and hold her, taking control, and only letting her break the kiss when I was ready.

Our faces were still close enough for me to feel her warm breath as she spoke. “The way you kissed back,” Lauren said, in a voice that was almost a whisper, “Are you telling me my age doesn’t mean as much as I thought it did?”

I just shook my head, and kissed her sweet mouth again. This time, her mouth was a little more open, and there was more tongue action between us, and we started to kiss hungrily, and to explore each other’s mouths. I moved my arms down around Lauren’s waist, holding her tight, feeling the excitement rise up inside me. After a minute or two of hot, sexy kissing, we broke for air, and Lauren said, “Would you like to come for a walk?”

“Where to?” I asked, totally puzzled by the question.

“Down to my room, silly” Lauren said, gently, still holding me close, “unless you plan on ravaging me here on the kitchen bench.”

“Who’s ravaging who here?” I asked, smiling at her, “You made the first move.”

“Well, somebody had to do something,” Lauren smiled back, “The suspense was killing me.” She kissed me on the mouth again, and I felt myself getting even more excited as her tongue gently worked its way into my mouth. “Are you coming with me?” she asked, when she broke the kiss.

“You’re very persuasive,” I said, as Lauren switched off the percolator, and started to walk backwards towards the door, still holding me around the waist. She let go of me, and we began to walk down the corridor to her bedroom at the front of the house. Neither of us spoke until we were halfway to her bedroom door. Lauren turned quickly, and held me to her, saying, “I just can’t wait to do this again,” and kissed me hot and hard on the mouth, right there in the corridor. This was a sexy, hot, exciting kiss, and it hardly seemed possible that a woman my mother’s age could be so passionate. Lauren’s kiss literally took my breath away, as this stylish, nicely-spoken, middle-aged woman pushed me against the wall in her house, and pressed her lips hard against mine. The smell of her breath, and the taste of her mouth, just made me want her even more, and I put my right hand behind her head, pressing her mouth to mine, as she pressed me against the wall.

We stayed like that for a moment or two, kissing hard, fuelling each other’s desire, then Lauren relaxed her grip on me, and with a sexy but ironic smile, she said, “How very unladylike of me.”

We both snickered, and she became more serious, but still held me close to herself. “It’s just that, all I’ve got from Dougie for a long time is a quick, drunken fumble, twice a month if I’m lucky. I haven’t felt so wanted for years.” She smiled again, this time mischievously, and said, “So, you can’t really blame me for getting carried away.”

“I might fumble, but I’ll take my time over it, if that’s any help,” I said, smiling back.

“Something tells me I’m in good hands,” Lauren said, and she took her right hand away from me, and with her left hand on my back, gently ushered me towards her bedroom door. As walked into her room, I reached for the light switch, but Lauren put her hand over mine and said, “I think it might be best if we leave the light off,” she said, looking away as she said it, and then she turned to me and said, “It’s just that, if you see me naked,” she paused, sighed, and continued, “you mightn’t be so excited.”

She looked down at the floor, and I reached over with my right hand, and gently undid the first two buttons of her white blouse. “You’ve got a beautiful body, Lauren,” I said, looking down briefly at the exposed part of her creamy breasts, then meeting her gaze again as she looked back up, “I mean that. If you’re gonna take me to bed, I think you should let me look at you. A body like yours deserves to be appreciated.“ Lauren still didn’t look totally convinced, so I whispered, “Lets just leave the bedside light on.”

We walked up beside Lauren’s queen size bed, and she flicked on her bedside light. She turned to me and held me again, and I kissed her mouth, tasting and enjoying, and then I said, “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to take my time over this.” I wanted Lauren badly, I wanted to explore her curvaceous body, to kiss her, fondle her, ravish her, and to satisfy my lust with her, but as urgently as I wanted to make love to Lauren, I still wanted to savour her.

Lauren put her hands around my waist, linking them at the back, resting her pelvis against me, and said, “A girl appreciates it when a man takes his time,” then she smiled her ironic, mischievous smile again, and with a little tilt of her head, added, “Are you going to undress me, or do I have to do it myself?”

I put my hands on Lauren’s shoulders, and gently pushed back, so she lost her balance, and fell back onto her bed. She gave me a playful little smile as she realised what I was doing, just as she started to fall back. She landed on her back on the right side of her bed, with her legs hanging over the side. Her blouse and skirt were pulled tight around her from the way she had landed, emphasising her curvy shape, and I felt a hot wave of excitement passing through me at the sight. She sat up, keeping eye contact, and without speaking, patted the bed beside herself.

I sat next to Lauren, on her right side, and still without speaking, she moved in and kissed me again. This time, her kiss was soft and incredibly sensual, as she gently tilted her head, with our mouths joined, and her tongue working its way into mine, just enough to heighten the excitement. We had kissed all the way from the kitchen, but somehow this one kiss was more exciting, more sensual, than before. After holding the kiss for several deliciously exciting moments, Lauren drew back, and took my right hand in hers.

She gently placed my fingers on the third button of her blouse, under the two I had already undone, and said, “I think I interrupted you in the middle of something.” I unbuttoned her blouse entirely, and gently untucked it from her skirt, then pulled it open, exposing her breasts, in their white lace bra.

Lauren’s breasts were breathtaking, and I had to swallow before I spoke. “I’m sure I’m not the first person to tell you this,” said, softly, “but they’re beautiful.”

Lauren didn’t reply, but she looked down at her own breasts, then back up at me. These were not the perky, perfect tits of a nineteen year old, they were ripe, full, womanly breasts, that, as beautiful as they were to look at, had also nourished two babies in their time, and somehow, that knowledge made me even more excited. I used my right hand to, very gently, caress the exposed part of Lauren’s right breast, and she leaned forward and gave me another soft and sensual kiss, and then she began to remove her blouse.

She took off her blouse, and placed it on the pillow beside her, on her left. Lauren still had not spoken since she invited me to unbutton her blouse. “When I kissed you in the kitchen,” she started, “I thought, if we went to bed, it’d be under the covers, with the light off, so you couldn’t see my wrinkles and saggy bits.”

I smiled, and said, “I haven’t see too many wrinkles, Lauren.”

“So, here I am, letting you undress me with the light on,” Lauren continued, “You’re making me feel so sexy and desirable. No-one’s made me feel that way for a long time.”

“You are sexy and desirable,” I said, as I brushed the hair away from her forehead, and kissed her there, “and judging by those pictures you showed me, you’ve been like that all your life.” I gently touched Lauren’s left nipple through her bra, with my right thumb and forefinger, and I felt it harden slightly. “That’s nice,” she whispered.

I was about to reach around and unclip her bra, but I changed my mind and said, “I’ll get back to that, but right now, I’d like to see if your bum is really as good as it looks in your work uniform.”

“I never knew you were looking,” Lauren smiled, and then added, “but you’ll have to take my skirt off to have a look, won’t you?” She stood up, and with her back to me, looking back over her right shoulder, she said, “There’s a zip at the back.”

Lauren’s caramel coloured skirt showed the sexy curve of her hips, and followed the shape of her bottom and thighs, before flaring slightly towards the hemline, and the view from behind was pretty impressive, even before I took it off. I reached over and pulled her zipper down, and Lauren stepped out of her skirt, and placed it on the pillow with her blouse. She turned her back to me, showing her derriere.

“Now, that is a nice backside,” I remarked, and I leaned forward and gently kissed Lauren in the small of her back. She was wearing a pair of gold coloured bikini briefs, in a silk material, and I gently peeled them down below her buttocks, exposing them entirely. Her bottom had a few little dimples, and the odd stretch mark, but there are women half her age who would like to have an arse like Lauren’s. Just looking at her all-but-naked body from behind was making me even more excited, but I gently pulled her panties back up again, in case I was moving ahead too quickly by pulling them down.

“Seen enough?” I heard Lauren say, still facing away from me. Her voice sounded like she had a smile on her face. She was enjoying this.

“Your body is beautiful,” I said, taking in the vista, “I can’t believe you were worried about me seeing you naked, Lauren.”

Lauren turned to face me, now wearing just her lace bra and silk panties, and said, “And I can’t believe I’m standing here in front of you, with hardly anything on.” From the front, she looked as good as she did from behind. Her belly had a couple of stretchmarks, from bearing her two sons, but somehow, that just meant that as well as making love and giving pleasure, Lauren’s body had given life, and although her childbearing days were over, I could tell Lauren’s body still had a lot of lovemaking left in it.

Lauren knelt down on her left knee, between my legs, as I sat on the side of her bed, and she kissed me again, soft, sexy and sensual, the way she had done before. She held the kiss, and drew her face back away from me when she was finished. She still had that ironic little smile of hers, her breath was warm and inviting on my face, and her voice was just above a whisper. “I feel a little self-conscious,” she started, “standing here with no clothes on, while you’re fully dressed.” Her smile became mischievous, and she said, “So,” she said, reaching over and undoing the two buttons on my polo shirt, “I think we should take your clothes off, too, and we can get on the bed together.” Then, instead of taking my shirt off me, like I expected, she sat back on the bed, lay down, and slid over to the middle. She was lying on her left side, looking at me, waiting for me to make my next move.

I felt a surge of desire for Lauren, as she lay there like that. I wanted to taste her, to touch her, to explore her, and to have her. I slid over on the bed, turning her onto her back and embracing her, with my right forearm under her neck, and kissing her hard on the mouth, enjoying the taste for a sweet moment or two, then gently lowering her head back to her pillow. She took a quick breath as our mouths parted, and said, “That was a very energetic little move, Simon. You gave me butterflies.” Then, that playful smile of hers.

I looked at Lauren’s full, rounded breasts again, and I said, “I’d like to take your bra off, if that’s okay. I’d love to see those beautiful boobs in their natural state.” Lauren kept eye contact with me, as she lifted her shoulders slightly, and reached behind herself, as she lay on the bed under me, and she unclipped her bra. “I think you can take it from here,” she smiled up at me.

I lifted Lauren’s white lace bra away from her breasts, and slid it along her arms, one at a time, to take it off. “Just beautiful,” I whispered, looking at them as though I was mesmerised. Her nipples and the areolae around them were a darkish pink colour, and I gently stroked both nipples with my thumbs, making them harden slightly.

I moved my head down and gently kissed Lauren’s right breast, then I put my lips over her nipple, applying the gentlest of suction, while I rubbed it with my tongue. Lauren responded by biting her lower lip gently, and taking a sharp breath through her teeth. She shuddered, and said, “That’s lovely, Simon. Just lovely.” Her voice was now a breathy whisper.

I sucked and tasted Lauren’s nipple for a few moments, and she moaned softly once or twice as I did so, then I took my mouth away and blew gently on the nipple, which was wet with my saliva. “That tickles,” Lauren whispered, as she placed her arms around my back and held me gently. I moved up and kissed her mouth again, offering her some gentle tongue action, which she graciously accepted.

After we had kissed like that for a few moments, I sat back between Lauren’s legs. All she had on now were her gold coloured silk panties, and I looked down at them, and back at her. Lauren knew what I was thinking, and she said, “You realise if you take them off, I’ll be completely naked, and you’ll still be fully dressed, don’t you?” Her smile was mischievous, sexy and playful. I didn’t answer, but I placed my right hand on the top of her left thigh, just near her pussy, and I gently caressed her skin. “It won’t take me long to get undressed when the time comes,” I said, and I gently worked the first finger of my right hand inside the crotch of her panties. Lauren was just watching me, not speaking, and I felt her soft pubic hair first, then the slick wetness of her pussy. I worked my finger a little further inside, and then gently pulled it out of her panties, then, still making eye contact, I put my finger in my mouth and tasted her juices.

Lauren’s pussy juice was sweet and sexy, and I just knew I had to go down on her. I leaned down and kissed her on the skin of her inner left thigh, inhaling the rich, musky scent of her pussy as I did so, and then I sat back and put the fingers of both hands into the waistband of her panties.

“Are you thinking about going down on me?” Lauren asked.

“Is that okay?” I asked back. I wanted very much to taste her pussy, but I realised she might be one of those women who doesn’t like oral sex.

Lauren swallowed, and with a wry smile, said, “No-one’s, umm,” pausing, “done that for a long time,” she continued, “Dougie didn’t believe in it. He said it wasn’t normal.” She paused again, and added, “But, I’d love it, if you really want to.”

“What a waste,” I said, as I gently pulled Lauren’s panties down, and she lifted her bottom to help me get them off. Her pubic hair was trimmed just a little at the sides to keep it neat, and was little darker than the hair on her head, and looked even darker in contrast to her fair skin. I slid her panties down along her shapely legs, and tossed then on the floor next to the bed. I looked at Lauren’s pussy. Her inner pussy lips were a slightly darker pinkish colour than her nipples, and were a little swollen, with fluid oozing between them. It looked very inviting, and I said, “You’ve got a beautiful pussy, Lauren. And no-one’s tasted you down there in all that time?” I looked at her, narrowing my eyes, cocking my head, finding this hard to believe, and she shook her head. “I’ll have to rectify that situation,” I said.

I leaned down again, and kissed Lauren softly, just at the top of her inner pussy lips. Once again, I inhaled the erotic scent of her pussy, and I could feel myself becoming more excited, my need to have this woman becoming more urgent. I was ready to throw my clothes off and fuck Lauren hard, to have my way with her, and to satisfy the sexual desire that she had triggered in me, but now that I knew she had not experienced oral lovemaking for years, I wanted to take my time, and pleasure her with my mouth for a while.

I had always loved going down on a woman, but knowing that Lauren had missed out on this source of sexual pleasure for so long made me want to explore her pussy thoroughly with my lips and tongue. I turned my head slightly, and gently worked the tip of my tongue between her inner lips, tasting them, and tasting the fluids that were pooled there. I had been led to believe that older women did not produce as much pussy juice as they did in their younger days, but Lauren was proving me wrong. I ran the tip of my tongue down between her inner lips, and coated it with her sweetish, tangy juices, spreading them on my tongue so I could experience her flavour, but she was oozing more than I could swallow. I probed the opening of her pussy, ever so gently, tasting the core of Lauren’s womanhood, and then I worked my tongue back up, to gently brush her clitoris. My attentions to Lauren’s pussy were bringing soft moans from her, but she flinched when my tongue made contact with her clit, and she began to gently caress the hair on the back of my head with her right hand.

I repositioned myself slightly to a better angle, so I could suck Lauren’s clit properly, and I placed my mouth over it, with my lips liberally coated with her juices. I moved my head back and forth just slightly, applying the gentlest of suction to her sensitive clit, and Lauren moaned and bucked her hips. Her chest shuddered, and she said, “Simon, that’s beautiful. You are so good at that!” Then, she reached down to take my right hand in her left hand, as I rested it on her left thigh, and I continued working her clit with my mouth.

Lauren’s chest shuddered twice, and I heard her say, with an urgency in her voice, “Ohh! Simon, I’m coming!” Then, she arched her back, lifting her belly off the bed, squeezing my right hand, saying “Ohhhh!” and then relaxed with a long gasp.

I was surprised that Lauren had climaxed so quickly, but pleased with myself for giving her an orgasm by going down on her, when I had been out of practice for so long myself. Lauren took a deep breath, and lay there for a moment, as I lifted my head from her pussy, and she said, “Come here,” holding her arms out.

I kissed her pussy one last time, and then I moved up, and lay on her, taking the weight on my elbows, and she kissed me softly on the mouth. “I can taste myself,” she said. Her voice was a little husky, and she hesitated for a moment and said, “You know, I could return the favour if you like,” and she reached down with her left hand, and stroked me once along my hard cock, through my jeans, and continued, “But I think we can find something more productive to do with this just now. Don’t you?”

This was a side of the smart, stylish Lauren I had worked with all this time, that I had never imagined, but I said, “I think we could come up with something, if we put our heads together.”

“It wasn’t really our heads I was thinking about putting together,” Lauren replied, with that playful smile again, “but you seem a little overdressed, if we’re going to take this any further.” Her left hand found the zipper on my jeans, and she gently unzipped it, and reached inside to stroke my hard tool. “I’m on fire,” she whispered, and lifted her head to kiss me on the mouth again.

After breaking our kiss, I rolled onto my back on Lauren’s right side on the bed, and took off my jeans and underpants. My hard cock was rampant, and Lauren gently stroked along it with her right thumb and forefinger, and smiled at me, saying, “I hope I can do that thing justice.”

I knelt between Laurens legs, ready to continue, but she said, “I think you should take your shirt off, too.” She looked down at herself and said, “After all, I’m naked, you should be, too.”

I peeled my polo shirt off, and tossed it on the floor with my jeans, and I lay down and embraced Lauren’s naked body on the bed. It was incredibly exciting to hold her like that, with both of us naked, nothing between us, skin to skin, totally intimate. We kissed passionately for a moment or two, in our nakedness, and it was time for me to enter her.

My cock was stone-hard, and would have found its mark without any guidance but I reached down, and gently felt for the opening of Lauren’s pussy. She was oozing fluids, her pussy pouting, and more than ready to accept my rigid cock. I used my right hand to guide my cock to the entrance, and gently slid it inside.

I was naive enough to think that, as a woman who had borne two children, Lauren’s pussy would not be tight, but I was surprised to find the fit of my cock inside her was quite snug, and I took about three gentle strokes before I was fully inside her. The walls of her pussy seemed to hug my cock, and to mould themselves to its shape, and after a minute or two of gentle, but deep thrusting, she took a deep breath, and said, “Simon, I haven’t had anything that hard inside me for years.”

“Are you okay?” I asked, genuinely concerned that I was making her uncomfortable.

“Am I okay?” Lauren asked, with a surprised smile, as she gently met each thrust with a little tilt of her pelvis, “I’m more than just okay, Simon. I’m fantastic!” She pulled my face to hers, and gave me a quick kiss, and said, “You’re fantastic. This is beautiful. I can hardly describe it.”

I kissed Lauren’s mouth again, keeping the rhythm going as I fucked her, and she said, “You made me come before, so if you feel like you need to come, just go for it. It’ll be okay.” She smiled, a sweet smile, not the mischievous one she had been giving me since we started.

“What about you?” I asked, giving her a quick kiss before she answered.

“That’s okay, I’ve got a feeling we’ll be having a few encores after this,” she smiled, hugging me to her, as we made love.

Lauren’s pussy was holding my cock in a loving embrace, and with each gentle thrust, I was becoming more excited, and getting closer to my own orgasm. I wanted to come, but even though Lauren had invited me to take my pleasure, I wanted to make her come again with my cock inside her. Her pussy was slick, wet and snug, working my cock to perfection, and I decided to pick up the pace a little, thrusting faster, going a little deeper.

“That’s the way,” Lauren said, with a strain starting in her voice, and she adjusted the rhythm of own pelvic tilt to meet me, “That’s great, Simon.” I started to fuck her harder, deeper, and I adjusted my position a little, so the sensitive head of my cock was getting more pressure inside her pussy. I picked up the pace, sensing that Lauren wanted to be fucked harder, and I could feel my cock actually leaving her pussy with each out-stroke, and then thrusting back inside again, going deep, spurring both of us on to greater levels of sexual pleasure.

“Are you close?” Lauren said, that urgent note back in her voice.

“I think so,” I answered, feeling the pleasure building up, the storm clouds of my own orgasm gathering in the distance.

“I think I’m gonna go off like a box of crackers, Simon. I can’t help it,” Lauren said, her voice a little louder than before, her eyes widening, then a low moan came from her.

I felt Lauren’s legs wrapping around me, as I drove my cock into her pussy. The two of us were fucking hard, fucking deep, on Lauren’s bed. A middle-aged woman, and a man young enough to be her son, joined at the pelvis, mating, fucking, screwing, call it what you will, but Lauren and I had stepped outside society’s norms, and found something amazing there, and we were about to experience a mutual orgasm.

I felt the pleasure in my cock seeming to grow exponentially, as Lauren’s low moan, became a quivering, “Ohh, ohh, ohhhh!!” sound, and she closed her eyes, and the rhythmic tilt of her pelvis changed to a thrusting motion, driving my unyielding cock further into her soft, wet, snug pussy with each stroke. Lauren was giving as much as she was taking, putting her heart and soul into this, and she threw her head back on the pillow, squeezing her eyes shut, making a rasping sound in her throat, and
saying, “Yyyesss!! Simon, that’s perfect!”

I felt my own orgasm bursting inside me, as waves of pleasure started at the base of my cock, and rebounded from one end of me to the other, and another throaty gasp came from Lauren, lost in her own orgasm, but still thrusting back at me. I felt my seed spurting into Lauren’s body, experiencing a blissful release of crystalline ecstasy as I filled her pussy with it, while I kept thrusting, milking the final spasms of sweet pleasure from her, and finally feeling my orgasm subside.

Lauren had still not completely finished, as I came back to reality. Her arms were locked around me, surprising me with her strength for a moment, and she opened her eyes, and her whole body relaxed underneath me. She sighed, and pulled my head down, kissing me deeply, one last time, then said, simply “Oh, my god!”

“Did you like that?” I asked.

“Couldn’t you tell?” she smiled up at me.

My cock was half-hard, still resting inside her pussy, but I felt a gush of fluid. Lauren put her hand down under herself and said, “You flooded me.” Then a quick breath, and she continued, “I’d forgotten how much a young man leaves behind. It’s been so long.”

I lay down next to her, on her right, too worn out by the hard sex we had just had, to remain on top any longer, and Lauren turned onto her right side, and put her left arm around me. “That was absolutely amazing,” she said, in a soft voice, as she got her breath back, “I haven’t had sex like that for years.”

“It’s been a while for me, too” I said, smiling back. It was true, because I hadn’t been with a woman since my girlfriend had dumped me.

“Well,” Lauren smiled, that mischievous look returning again, “I think we both have some lost time to make up for, don’t you think.” We had one more warm, lingering kiss, and then she cuddled up to me, in her bed, in her room, in her quiet suburban street, and I held her beautiful, womanly body to myself, caressing her, until arousal returned, and we did it all again.

That was the night I became part of Lauren’s story. Lauren and I didn’t become a couple, but our friendship was different after that. We both know this can’t last forever, but we still get together for coffee, conversation, and hot sex, on a regular basis, and Lauren no longer wishes she was thirty years younger, because the Lauren of today is the one sharing her bed with me. As for me, I like her just the way she is.

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