Grass Widow

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Amanda rolled part way on top of her husband Greg, one breast partly hanging out of the top of her nightie. She kissed his neck, moved her lips to his ear.

“Deb said that she is a grass widow,” she murmured.

Greg knew full well that Amanda was talking about the new neighbor, a tall elegant woman who he had seen a few times fussing around in her yard. But he responded, “Who is a grass widow, and what is a grass widow.”

Amanda’s hand was drifting down his chest and belly, an almost certain sign that she was looking for pleasure. “Don’t act dumb, you know, the lady who moved in across from Deb. The tall older woman with the silver gray hair. She lives all alone in that big house,” she murmured. Her fingertips loitered at the band of his pajamas.

Greg loved the way Amanda approached seduction, coming at him in a manner that suggested that she had something else in mind, never direct and to the point. Her hands had that soft velvet touch to them. She could have touched any part of his body and he would have known she wanted to make love. He played along as he always did. What the hell, it was much fun.

His arms were above his head, not taking part in the seduction scene just yet. “And so why does Deb call her a grass widow? That’s a very out of date term. I recall my parents using it when I was a kid. Does it just refer to a single lady? Seems to me that would cover a lot of women.”

He was still acting dumb; he knew that the term had a tinge of naughtiness to it. It could be something about an unmarried woman with a child living amongst married families. Or it was a woman whose husband had abandoned her, or was away to war. It was temptation in the neighborhood, and it made for nervous wives.

Amanda was heating up; she kissed Greg’s neck, softly moving her lips up beside his ear before sliding her tongue to his mouth. One breast was exposed, the nipple grazing his chest. She could sense the bulge forming in his pajama bottoms as her fingertips moved under the band and inched there way down to play in his bush.

“Deb thinks that she is a seductress, and that soon all the men will be trying to get in her panties. She says that she has caught Dan looking through the curtains at her.”

“For God’s sake, she must be at least twenty years older than Dan. He and I have been in bars together, he never makes a move on other women, and neither do I,” Greg said softly, not wanting to divert Amanda from the direction that she was moving. He brought one arm down and pulled her closer, his hand at the small of her back.

“I know, but admit it, she is a great looking woman. She has not responded to any of we ladies who have tried to meet her. She just smiles and nods at us. But Deb has seen her talking to a few of the guys.”

There was a lull in the conversation. Amanda was slowly stroking his cock while their lips were fully engaged in a slow passionate kiss.

She pulled back a bit, never losing the hold on his cock, and murmured, “We think that she will seduce one of you guys, maybe all of you. Wouldn’t that be crazy?” Amanda obviously thought it would be wildly erotic, and clenched her hand more tightly around Greg’s pulsing cock.

Greg slipped his hand down inside the top of her nightie and lifted out one beautiful firm velvet breast, hefting it in his hand as he groaned in delight. “Baby,” he whispered, “Why would I want an older woman, when I have you in bed with me every night. You are more than I can handle as it is.”

But her comment had registered. He had been one of the “guys” that had chatted with this apparent seductress. Just a few words of welcome but he had been struck by the direct manner in which she had looked at him, her eyes boldly drifting up and down his body as if he was a soldier on parade and she his sergeant. When close up, he could see the signs of aging on her face, but the effect seemed to soften her lines and add to her glamour.

And she was built. She had been wearing a form-fitting body stocking while gardening. He had noticed her going for a jog in the nearby park; she obviously was a fitness freak. He walked there often himself.

Amanda was still pressing the issue. She was up over top of him; her nightie had vanished as Greg kicked off his pajama bottoms. Her eyes were steaming hot, apparently turned on by the thought of a wicked woman seducing her husband.

She straddled him, knees on each side of his belly and hips, her breasts dangling down over him. “But, what if she came after you? What if she asked you in to her house? What if nobody else saw you go in?” She seemed desperate to hear his answer as her hand reached back through her legs to find his cock and to pull the knob up to her dripping slit.

Greg was more than a little surprised at the drift of this seductive conversation. He wondered what she wanted to hear. She had her pussy lips around his knob by this time. She was leaning over him; her arms braced each side of his head, his face buried between her breasts.

“I don’t Ankara travesti know baby, what to you want me to say?” as he licked a nipple. “Do you want to know if I would fuck her?” he squeaked.

Amanda’s response was to give a little gasp and drive her hips down; engulfing his cock in one violent thrust as she started humping him. They had gone through this routine before. She would tire and relax after a few minutes of wild riding, and then lift up and allow him to finish her off. But this time, she did not stop; he could feel her ass cheeks begin to clench and release in his hot hands. She stiffened and held him tightly as he felt her pussy contract and squeeze hard for at least a minute before relaxing.

She was breathless as he rolled her to her back and mounted her from his knees. The only sound was their breathing and the ‘slurpy’ noise of his cock slicing in and out of her pussy. She peered up at him as he pounded her pussy, a smile of pleasure developed as she watched his desperation to get off. “Come for me baby, I love watching your face as you come,” she encouraged him.

They lay exhausted on their backs for some time without speaking.

Finally, he rolled to his side, propped up on one elbow and peered into her eyes. “What the hell was that all about? A much older lady shows up in the neighborhood and that makes you horny?”

She giggled and said, “That was awesome, I guess I let it take over me. Deb and I had fun imagining what we would do if we were she. We know all the guys, and we often play a game wondering about this guy or that guy in bed. We can make ourselves very horny that way. And then you and Dan get the benefit at night.”

Greg smiled, “Don’t suppose there was a little wondering about the lady and you two? Maybe some chat about girl on girl?”

“You wish! Why does that turn men on? I admit that I occasionally wonder about a particular woman, but I don’t dwell on it.”

“So what about this one?”

Amanda slapped him playfully and they kissed. She looked at him suddenly, “You are hard again already. I don’t suppose that thinking about that old lady makes you horny? Does it?” She pulled him over on top of her.

Actually, they were not far off the mark in their assessment of the lady, Dianne by name. She had endured a tough early life with alcoholic parents. She had run away from home, been knocked up by a drunk one night, and raised a boy on her own. She had fought hard to improve their lot in life, and had been entirely focused on giving her son the life that had escaped her.

She used her looks and her body to make the money to feed, clothe him and get him through University. She had been a mistress to many men, but always with the focus on a better life for her and her son. She became a high end Corporate Secretary through several liaisons. Her work skills evolved to equal her erotic skills until she had reached the point where she no longer needed to do bed time with anyone to acquire a good job. But the truth was that she enjoyed the sex, and had no intention of giving that up.

This home in the suburbs was her dream. After living in shacks and grubby apartments, and eventually in quite pleasant apartments and condos, a house with a yard had become her objective. And now approaching sixty years of age, with her son off to other parts of the world with a high paying job and a family, she had retired from working and began to live out that dream.

But the life was completely foreign to her. She had lived in places where neighbors changed weekly. These people were settled and knew each other and the women chatted on the street and had tea together. Weekend house and pool parties were common. She did not comprehend how to engage in this lifestyle as a single woman amongst all these family types.

She was not comfortable with other women. Her entire life had been focused on and been directed by men, and she had learned how to weave her web around them. She had no idea how to engage in small talk with other ladies.

But she did like the neighborhood guys. They were in their early to mid forties, her preferred prey, mature and experienced and still virile and horny. They looked at her as though they wanted to eat her despite the age difference.

She could read them like books. Given the right conditions, she knew that she could seduce any one of them. But she would be careful. Seduction needed time and never rushed. She was not looking for marriage or even a long-term affair. She was amoral about sex. In her new life, sex was about pleasure, and she sought pleasure for herself on any occasion of her choosing. The love of another had seldom been a motivating factor.

There had been one man, the President of a Company, who had engaged her as his Corporate Secretary. Their affair included a good deal of affection and tenderness, and Dianne had thought that maybe this one was for real, despite he being married. And then one night at a convention, he had left her alone with an important Konya travesti client with an explicit request that she fuck him.

And she had done so, the sex being quite good, but the taste in her mouth afterwards simply confirmed that she was best off as a single woman, looking after her own interests. She had been used when she had always felt that it was she that did the using.

There was little doubt that Amanda’s suggestive comments had planted the seed of lust in Greg’s thoughts about Dianne. He watched for her movements, began to fantasize about this apparent sexaholic in the neighborhood. He timed her jogs to the park.

The common ground was the park. It was an old growth forest, huge trees of over 100 feet, several small ponds with ducks and fish and turtles. The odd black bear showed up to frighten people on occasion.

The trails were maintained by the city. People jogged, walked their dogs, and high school sports teams ran their laps in the natural surroundings. Narrow ‘off’ trails sometimes led to a tent or shelter for homeless people.

Greg had been taking park walks after work for several years, as much to relax after a high stress workday as for the exercise. The park bordered the back yard of his home and was readily accessible to him across a lane.

Dianne entered the park at a different location and they met a few times, she jogging one way while he walked the other. God she looked beautiful, always nicely outfitted in tight tracksuits or armless blouse and shorts. She smiled at him on each occasion, mouthing a pleasant “hello” as she bounced past him. He would turn and watch her attractive body, athletic without being muscular. Everything was soft and round. He could barely wait for his park walk each day for that brief glimpse. He became obsessed with thoughts of bedding her.

One day she had appeared from behind him, having changed the direction of her run to match his. She glanced over as she passed, then slowed and stood waiting for him, standing with arms akimbo, smiling and saying, “Hi neighbor, Greg isn’t it? I thought it was you, don’t you jog?”

He grinned and said, “No, never have been a runner, I get all the exercise I want with a walk. And actually I just do this walk to relax after a day at the office.”

She fell in beside him, her breasts still heaving a little and said, “Well, I don’t like jogging but I do it for the exercise, need to keep this old body fit.”

He looked her up and down slowly as they walked and said, “You are doing a great job of it, you have a beautiful —, ah, you look to be in wonderful condition.”

“Thank you kind sir,” she murmured coquettishly. She looked him over and continued, “You look good too, guess you don’t need hard exercise.”

She continued, “Mind if I walk with you? I hear that a bear has been seen the last few days. I feel a little nervous.”

“Don’t be nervous, but please do walk with me,” he grinned.

That was their inauspicious beginning, but it was a beginning, and they met often in the weeks following, warming to each other like two people with a common objective. They became more direct in their looks and touches, she catching his arm and holding it when he said something funny or poignant; or he touching her back as they worked around a water puddle or a fallen tree.

On one occasion she was wearing a form fitting tracksuit, zippered down the front and accentuating her breasts and ending almost at her crotch.

“Wherever did you find that outfit?” he groaned as he let his eyes wander down her body. She twirled around in front of him, providing a nice view of her butt and legs.

“Do you like it? Thought it might provide you a little pleasure,” she grinned.

“From the looks of the guys who have passed us, you are providing pleasure for more than just me.” God, he was getting hard, knowing that she was trying to interest him in her body. There can be no greater turn-on for a man, than the realization that a woman finds him desirable enough to prep for him.

“And pardon me, but there is just no way that there is room underneath that outfit for bra and panties.” His eyes bored into hers, emboldened by the feeling she was testing him.

She smiled, her eyes suddenly opaque and heavy, “Whatever made you think that?” She stood a few feet in front of him, as if tempting him to unzip her and find out.

Their eyes locked, a dare in the air. Was she kidding him? Did he have the balls to find out?

She took pity on him, took his hand and led him off to a little side trail and far enough from the main path to protect them from prying eyes. She turned with her back to a big tree and faced him, placed her hands on his shoulders and whispered, “So find out won’t you. I want you to know. Why do you think I wore this damn thing?”

He felt like a zombie following orders from a hidden voice as he fumbled with the little tag on the zipper. It slipped silently down as if lubricated exposing the white skin of her breasts İzmir travesti until the zipper was just below her nipples. They kissed as his hand slid inside the suit and fondled a breast. He moved back a bit, found the tag again and lowered it further. He pulled the top open, exposing both tits. The aureoles were large, pinkish in color, with very prominent nipples jutting out like erasers on the end of a pencil.

He caressed both tits with deepening passion as they kissed. She murmured, “There’s more to see, it’s a long zipper. Don’t you want to check for panties?”

He pulled back again, totally oblivious to the danger of being caught in this very public area. He tugged downward on the zipper once more, watching as her belly button appeared and then the top edge of her trimmed bush.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned. He pulled the zipper out a bit to allow him to see all of her. Her bush was dark tight curls mottled gray and clipped in a perfect triangle, the lower point just a fraction of an inch above the top of her slit.

“Touch me for God’s sake,” whispered Dianne.

They kissed with wild abandon, tongues intertwined and exploring the entire cavity of the other’s mouth. She could feel his hard bone rubbing the side of her hip as his hand slid further between her legs. He ground the heel of his hand on her mound as two fingers parted her legs and worked down each side of her slit.

“Ah Christ, I want you,” Greg whimpered.

She pushed back from him until their eyes met once more, his hand still caressing her pussy, one tit dangling exposed outside of the suit. “And you can have me, but not here in the middle of the bush with high school kids racing by us.” She smiled confidently as she removed his hand; tucked her tit back into the suit and pulled the zipper back up.

“When and where?” he moaned.

“Any time at my house. Right now if you want.” She challenged him with her eyes, but saw the uncertainty fill his. How could he possibly visit her in a place were he knew every person, dog and cat, and they knew him. She smiled, “Poor baby, you want it, you can have it but can’t get it.” She glanced down and reached over to rub her hand along the bulge in his pants, “and I want that.”

She knew that he would think of little else before finding a way to fuck her. ‘I’m such a bitch’ she thought, ‘but I love doing it.’

Greg was in turmoil as they parted, waiting until the main trail was quiet before returning home. Dianne continued her jog. If she had not stopped him, he would have nailed her up against the tree. He slipped into his house and quickly climbed the stairs to the shower not wanting Amanda to catch him with a hard-on after a park walk.

He stood facing a corner of the shower, his forehead pressing the shower walls as he got off. His clutching hand became Dianne’s hot cunt; her tits were pressed against him as he began to fuck his fist. His legs were weak and trembling after he got off.

They met several more times in the park, but there was no repeat of their previous intimate encounter off trail. Greg could not bring himself to sneak a visit to Dianne’s house, no matter how desperate he was to bed her.

Finally, Dianne said, “How about I meet you downtown for lunch?”

Greg smiled, “Well sure, but you know what I would want for lunch don’t you?”

Dianne was serious as she responded, “Yes, I do, you want what I want. Let me make the arrangements.”

Dianne was also feeling the pressure of desire. She liked this guy, liked his easy going attitude, his big hands and powerful looking body. She loved men with big hands and hard forearms. And she very much wanted to give him what he so desperately wanted from her.

That evening, she placed a telephone call to a previous employer and lover. She arranged to have the use of his suite in a boutique hotel downtown. They kidded a bit about her plans, and she turned down an offer to meet him. Dianne’s focus was on a new candidate.

Dianne smiled inwardly. This was different; she was seducing a man for her own pleasure and not for work advancement. She was excited and aroused at the thought of seeing Greg naked and desperate to make love to her. She opened her robe and examined her naked body in a full-length mirror. She continually checked for signs of fading beauty but was confident that she was still attractive.

She opened a drawer and pulled out her toy and applied some jelly to the tip. She turned the vibrator on and rubbed it on the tips of her nipples before sliding it down her belly and between her legs. Ah damn it felt good as she pressed it against her swelling clit and along to the back of the slit. She watched herself in the mirror, groaning as she worked the vibrator into her now very slippery pussy.

They met in the park next day. Dianne moved close enough to Greg to brush him as they walked. She wanted that contact and knew it would arouse him as well.

“Can you make lunch tomorrow?” she said casually.

Greg looked at her nervously, “Yes sure, I can make it tomorrow. Where do we meet?”

She said, “I have a friend who has let me use his suite at The Palms. We can order lunch in the room.” And then, “It has a beautiful view of the bay.” And then more softly, “We can make love.”

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