Old Ladies, Thongs & Swimming Pools

Walking down the sidewalk after leaving the restaurant, his arm wrapped around his wife, the sky at sunset a brilliant sherbet orange, he savored the moment. This was marital bliss. This was contentment. This was peace.

But then, Greg's pulse suddenly went up. Like an animal sensing an earthquake, an overwhelming feeling of dread suddenly filled him up, his heart dropping into his belly. His body was sensing something before his mind comprehended it. Looking around in a slight panic, he only had to look ahead to see the source of his panic.

Doreen was approaching from the other direction.

His eyes went wide. His heart began beating like crazy. Sweat formed on his brow. The sound in his ears was muffled by the roar of blood rapidly pumping through his veins. The woman who'd upended his life, the woman he'd been avoiding for weeks... she was right here in front of him. Not knowing what else to do, he simply stepped back and watched events unfurl in front of him, almost completely frozen.

"Oh! Hey!" Molly said happily, not knowing any better, waving at her seemingly friendly neighbor, not knowing what this older woman was capable of. Not like Greg did. He felt like he was having a full-on panic attack, but he did his best to hide it. Greg had tried to bury the past, and suddenly she was here in front of him.

"Hello, dear!" Doreen said warmly, her tone far more friendly in regard to Molly than it was the last time she mentioned her. Doreen opened her arms to hug the young wife, at first not even glancing at Greg. If she had any shame for what she'd done, she wasn't showing it. Greg watched this older woman embrace his wife without hesitation, and the married man was unable to do anything to stop this wicked woman invading his peaceful life again.

Everything was moving in slow motion, and all he could do was watch. This older woman who'd affected him so strongly was right in front of him again, and just as before, all he could do was stare at her. And with the ladies temporarily focused on each other, he had free reign to do so.

Funnily enough, standing here in public... it was the most clothes he'd ever seen her in. On her lower half, her feet were clad in simple, stylish flip-flops, a look which added a bit of youthfulness to the older woman. His gaze traveled upwards, admiring the white capri pants that were clinging to her shapely legs and molding to her round, juicy ass. Her upper-half was clad with a snug short-sleeved pink top, showcasing her hot body while still being proper, giving her enough plausible deniability to deny the fact that this outfit seemed solely designed to showcase her curves. But what gave her a little less of that deniability was the plunging neckline of that tight pink top, showing a little more than a proper amount of cleavage. Certainly more than a woman her age should be showing. The tight top, combined with a no doubt very expensive, very snug bra, combined to make her tits look like they were exploding out of her top. Perhaps she was wagering that her being an older woman would allow her to get away with a top like this, showcasing her cleavage almost halfway down her chest. And in the older woman's defense, Molly didn't seem to perceive the threat standing in front of. But Greg did. Did he ever. His gaze immediately became nestled in the smooth, succulent crevasse between her big breasts, unable to stop himself. This moment stretched on for what felt like hours, his eyes never leaving her chest. He was consumed by the sight, and everything else just kinda faded into the background.

The moment only ended when Doreen finally turned to look at him. For a moment, he panicked, fearing she'd give it all away by interacting with him in such a way to make it obvious what they'd done together. But instead, she simply gave him a warm, friendly smile and stepped forward to hug him as well. After avoiding her all week, her giant boobs were suddenly pressed against his chest, and their arms were around each other again.

"Mmmm..." she sighed softly in his ear, the lust in her tone obvious. "Nice to see you again, lover," she whispered, pressing herself against him firmly, enough to feel his bulging crotch.

He hadn't even realized it, but upon sight of her, his cock had immediately become almost painfully erect. His body associated her with absolute pleasure, and he couldn't help but react like that to her mere presence. His cock had no doubt turned to steel before he even recognized that she was nearby. Molly certainly hadn't noticed this, but Doreen immediately had, because she knew the effect she'd have on him. She stepped back and gave him a knowing smile before glancing back at his wife.

"How are you?" Molly asked Doreen in an ever-friendly tone, oblivious that the woman in front of her had had really filthy sex with her husband a couple weeks prior.

As they made small talk, Greg's ears were listening intently, terrified that Molly would catch on that something was going on between him and Doreen... had gone on, he meant. That the older woman would let something slip and hint Molly in that they'd fucked each other's brains out. The longer they talked, the more Greg freaked out. But luckily, Molly was clueless to anything untoward. But then again, why should she be trying to pick up on things? Men like him shouldn't be having nasty sex with older women like Doreen. To even consider such a thing would be crazy, so the fact that she was clueless that her husband and this older woman had done some pretty serious fucking was understandable. But still... Greg was terrified. His throat was dry. His blood was pumping. He could feel his entire body sweating in fear.

But additionally, he was buzzing. Immediately upon being in Doreen's presence again, he felt like his fingers were touching a livewire, feeling alive in a way he hadn't since that fateful afternoon he'd spent using those same fingers to squeeze Doreen's tits while getting his brains fucked out by her. Immediately, his blood was pumping, his cock was throbbing, and his mind was getting flooded with all sorts of sinful memories. He'd tried so hard to bury these vivid memories, but they were so powerful and so potent that they couldn't stay beneath the ground forever. It was all just rising right back to the surface now, no longer able to be contained, the intense encounter playing across his brain once again. But being that he'd been thinking over his story minutes prior, searching for more ideas, these memories began to flit in between his story thoughts, to the point where he couldn't truly tell the difference.

But in truth, was there any difference? With all this stuff rising back to the surface, with those buried thoughts unable to be contained anymore, his mind finally allowed himself to admit that there was no difference between Doreen and the Governess. They were one and the same. And seeing her in the flesh, feeling how his body was reacting to her... his mind was going into overdrive. Ideas for his story, new angles to take, new things to do, more wickedness that could be had. More nasty shit that could happen between the hero and the Governess. But with these memories and his story ideas practically interchangeable in his mind, he quickly realized that not all the nasty stuff he was thinking about was ideas for things the Governess could do with the hero. No, he was imagining all the amazing, fucked-up nastiness Doreen could do to him. Again.

In the same way he finally reckoned with the fact that the Governess and Doreen were one and the same, he also processed that despite trying to claim to himself otherwise, there was a reason he wasn't having sex with Molly, and it wasn't just about focusing his energy on his writing. He was afraid to confirm what deep down he already knew to be true; that Doreen was better in bed than his wife. That that old slut had satisfied him more sexually than Molly ever had. He feared this truth, and if he were to give his wife the type of loving attention that any good husband should, this fear would end up being etched in his mind as a fact. Doreen was right. As crazy as it sounded, a lot of what she had said about Molly during their encounter was right. His sex life with Molly just wasn't getting the job done, and that was what had led him into succumbing to that old whore's hot body. He'd never had an issue with Molly in the bedroom before, but after experiencing some truly mind-melting, hardcore fucking with the sexy older woman, nothing Molly could ever do would compare to what he'd experienced with Doreen. So, instead of trying to rekindle his sex life with Molly, he didn't even bother trying, for fear of having to reckon with the fact that he married a woman who was terrible in bed.

Even a passing glance at this deeply wicked thought made his cock throb in his pants.

Yeah, the reasons for him not having sex with his wife went far deeper than just that. As evidenced by the fact that his cock stiffened at the acknowledgment that Molly was bad at sex, there was something else going on inside him. Something very, very wicked.

It turned him on to withhold sex from his wife.

It was as if Doreen's wicked mind had infected his own, guiding his actions in ways that served to make her happy. He never once would have considered the idea of denying his wife sex to be a turn-on, but Doreen's influence seemed to be infused within him, affecting his judgment, warping his desires so that they matched her own.

As the older woman chatted with his wife, she glanced at him confidently, and it was as if she could read him like a book. It was as if she knew that he hadn't laid one finger on Molly. Doreen had told him that he'd never want to have sex with his wife after experiencing real fucking with her, and without knowing it, he'd been subconsciously living up to her wicked whims and making that declaration a reality. Even as he told himself that he was unaffected by what had happened on that fateful day a few weeks prior, he was in fact behaving exactly as she wanted, while writing a story that was quickly becoming centered around an avatar of her. In truth, Greg hadn't moved on from Doreen at all.

He was OBSESSED with her.

The dam keeping all those memories of Doreen in the past burst open, and all the nasty stuff he'd done with her began cascading outwards, filling his system. With his mind flooding with memories of hardcore fucking with Doreen, anything his wife could ever hope to achieve in bed simply paled in comparison. It had never satisfied him in the slightest, and now that he was fully processing again just how amazing this older woman was at fucking, his mind and heart took the opportunity to etch it into fact that his wife was rather bad at it. He couldn't try to deny it anymore. And being in this older slut's intoxicating presence only underlined that fact. Being around Doreen, taking in her pheromones, all the married man could think about was having sex with her again. And all the nasty shit she could come up with if he were to just surrender to a round two with her as she no doubt wanted. And if his wife was giving off any pheromones, they were completely overwhelmed by Doreen's. Looking at the two women, being in their presence, it seemed impossible for any man to choose Molly over a sexy older babe like Doreen. If there was any chance of Greg and Molly having sex that night, they were now gone, thanks to Doreen.

Greg was overwhelmed as all of these revelations hit him at once. He was excited in every way imaginable. As he thought more of sex with the older woman, and his mind was flooded with memories and desires and wicked conclusions, his creative side was going crazy. And now, with him and Doreen interchangeable with the hero and the Governess in his mind, new exciting ideas were blooming so fast he just wanted to commit it all to writing before he forgot them. Or better yet, make all those ideas a reality with Doreen's hot body so that he could never forget them, as they would not be fiction anymore. After being bereft of inspiration, new story ideas were flashing across his mind faster than he could process them, with Doreen and her hot body being front and center in all of them, the star of the show. After having such a wonderful dinner with Molly, all he could think about now was this hot woman twice his wife's age. That encroaching writer's block that had been temporarily held at bay by this romantic night with his wife had been completely obliterated by the mere sight of this old slut. He hadn't felt this inspired since the last time he'd encountered Doreen.

Fuck... could this old slut be his muse?

It seemed crazy, but... FUCK! It might be true! His writer's block had only ended after fucking Doreen. He'd tried to separate those facts from his mind, but only now, with the specter of his past standing in front of him, could he truly admit that those moments went hand-in-hand. Their time together had affected him to the core, and that afternoon of intense, all-consuming excitement had broken apart any blockades within him, and that had spurred the greatest burst of inspiration he'd ever had. He'd never written this consistently, or with such drive and purpose. Not ever. As much as he loathed to admit it... he might have Doreen to thank for that.

He was lost in his thoughts as he went over the ramifications of this realization. It was only when the two women turned to look at him expectantly that he perked up and was forced to pay attention.

"What's that?" he asked.

"Oh! Doreen said the lawn's looking a little shaggy... she wanted to know if you were going to be borrowing the mower again tomorrow?" Molly explained naively.

"Oh..." he replied, suddenly on the spot. The lawn guys hadn't come yet this week. He'd been meaning to call them.

"I told her that you could mow my lawn while you're at it," Doreen stated, giving him a significant look. "It also might give you a chance to help out with that project at my place. The one we discussed right before you left..." she said, giving him a pointed look. "You know, that deep, hard, kinda tiring job I asked you about that might need require the talents of a younger man?"

His eyes flashed to the image of Doreen bent over next to the pool, pulling her ass-cheeks apart, exposing her asshole to his eyes for the first time, inviting him to butt-fuck her right then and there.

"Oh yeah, I remember..." Greg said, his thoughts elsewhere, his mouth watering. Doreen smiled knowingly, practically reading his mind. Greg glanced at his wife again, and she smiled warmly, still completely unaware of what was really being discussed here.

"That seems fair," Molly chirped, looking between them. "As repayment for helping us out..." Greg looked back at Doreen. Staring into the older woman's eyes, they narrowed as she looked back at him, her gaze blazing with heat. He glanced downward, seeing her nipples stiffening beneath her top ever so slightly.

The things he was feeling again. The memories of what they'd done together. The intense sex they'd had. No longer buried in the back of his mind, these memories were flooding his system, activating him in a way he hadn't felt since that day two weeks prior. But what was hitting him even stronger than that was the inspiration. For a writer, there was nothing that compared to the burst of pure, undistilled creativity that so rarely hits you. He'd found it once, and being in this old slut's presence again, he was feeling it again, even without laying a finger on her. Just imagine what it would be like to get not just one finger but both hands on her again. Just imagine how much creativity might burst forth from that...

This romantic night had been a pleasant distraction from his impending writer's block. But just being around Doreen again, glancing at her hot fucking body... there was no such thing as lack of creativity. Being around her again... he felt alive!

Would his desire to fully unlock his imagination, that he now discovered could only be achieved through availing himself in this slutty older woman's hot body... would that outweigh all the good work he'd done to put that major mistake of his in the past? Would his selfish desires for personal satisfaction prevail over what was best for him and Molly as a unit?

Greg turned to his wife and smiled.

"Yeah, seems fair," Greg agreed, looking back at the older woman. "I can come over there tomorrow."

Doreen grinned at this, barely able to contain her excitement. Greg couldn't believe he was saying it, but as soon as he did, he was beyond excited. His cock was already screaming out for the older woman.

"Perfect! I can't wait!" Doreen said, still staring the married man down, glancing down at his crotch and smiling, pleased with what she saw.

"Maybe I'll mow your lawn twice... make up for lost time," he offered, the words coming out before he realized it. Molly laughed, thinking it was just a joke.

"Better not make any offers you can't keep," Doreen replied with little humor in her voice, staring him down.

"I'm not..." Greg said, his voice sounding confident.

"Awesome!" Molly said happily, interrupting the lusty moment. In an instant, his wife had gone from a beacon of salvation for the married to appearing painfully clueless to what was happening right in front of her. How could someone like her be on the leading edge of his inspiration when she was just so far out of the loop?

"And make sure you bring your swimsuit!" Doreen suggested warmly. "I won't take no for an answer this time," she added, stepping forward to hug him again, moving her lips back to his ear.

"But don't worry..." she whispered hotly. "I won't be wearing mine..."

He gulped to himself as she stepped back. Nodding at her, not wanting to give away the game, he smiled and stepped away. They all said their goodbyes and parted ways, walking opposite directions. But as they did so, Greg looked back at the same time Doreen did. He glanced at her round, juicy, shaking ass as she stepped away from him. And seeing he was looking, she reached back and lifted the back of her top, revealing a bright purple thong rising above the hem of her pants, forming a whale-tail that seemed ultra-obscene for a woman her age. His cock jumped his pants, and his mind immediately flashed to her on her knees exposing her asshole to him again. He had to shake his head to clear that thought away, but his mouth was already near drooling. His shocked eyes looked up at her, only to see her lick her lips lewdly. He turned away, stunned, the sight he'd just witnessed burning itself into his brain.

"She's so nice!" Molly effused a few moments later, completely unaware of that last bit of eye-fucking.

"Yeah... nice," Greg stammered, glancing at his wife next to him, his cock damn near bursting out of his pants. He'd gone into this night planning to break their dry spell tonight, but not anymore. He had to save himself for Doreen. He wasn't laying a finger on his wife... they'd be too busy on the keyboard, trying to commit these cascading ideas to the page, all inspired by Doreen's hot body.

And Greg was motivated to write a lot that night.

* * * * *

It was a long hot summer for the newlywed.

The events of the day after Greg and Doreen ran into each other downtown... it was more exhausting, more raw, more nasty, more physical than their first encounter. She didn't wait for a moment after he made his way into her backyard that next afternoon. He stopped in his tracks when he saw her, completely nude and waiting in her backyard, sitting on her pool chair like a queen appraising her servant. He knew this is what she'd promised him, but seeing her in the flesh was something else entirely. Within minutes, he was as naked as she was, and on her command, he was on his knees between her spread legs, eating her delicious pussy like his life depended on it, right there next to the pool.