The last two years since my husband died have been very difficult for me. My friends have been kind to me, and I cannot really claim to have been lonely. In fact, at times I would have valued a little space to come to terms with my loss. What I have missed has not been company, but the physical intimacy that I so often took for granted; the loving cuddling, the touch of his hands, the sound of his voice, and above all his masculine scent.

Of course, once a decent period of grieving had passed, my friends went out of their way to introduce me to eligible men of my own age, mainly widowers, although some were living in sham marriages, where all love and intimacy had died. There was one very nice man whose wife was in the final stages of dementia and who no longer knew who he was. I am sorry to say that none of them really attracted me as a potential partner, the vital spark was just not there. Having known friends who became so lonely and desperate they were willing to say 'yes' to any man that would pay attention to them, I knew this could lead to complications and hurts that I was determined to avoid. I at least wanted to start with someone who ignited my interest in them as a person.

I know that many of you might want to ask about sex, but are too polite to broach the subject. Like many long married couples our sex life had become rather unexciting - vanilla sex I suppose you might call it - more a matter of habit than passion, but no less loving for that. In the last year of my husband's illness, sex became impossible, and I had found other ways to satisfy my libido. At first I had just masturbated with my fingers, but I found that I missed the feeling of a penis inside me, and bought a couple of dildos and a vibrator from an online store. While these were not as satisfying as the real thing, they did allow me to have a very satisfactory climax, and occasionally I would reach levels of pleasure comparable to sex with my husband.

All this changed a few months ago in a fashion that I can only describe as miraculous. In an attempt to get out of myself I had enrolled in adult education classes in art history at a local college, where a series of visiting experts would come to give lectures on subjects as diverse as the techniques of the early European masters, and the place of art in shaping social attitudes. It happened that one evening in early November, an otherwise dreary and depressing day, the lecturer was a man in his early fifties, who I was immediately attracted to. Oh my, it is such a mysterious thing, attraction.

Dr Anthony Alexander, Tony as he asked us to call him, was quite distinguished looking, just under six feet tall, with a neat little beard, and he had obviously taken good care of himself - or somebody else had, which is what I assumed at the start. His subject was the influence of Native American art on the modernist school, which I found fascinating, and when he suggested that those who were particularly interested might like to join him for a drink after class at a well known restaurant close by, I surprised myself and jumped at the opportunity.

I suppose that there must have been a spark of connection at the beginning, but I cannot see what might have attracted Tony to me that evening, a middle aged widow without makeup, in faded jeans and a shapeless plain sweater. Maybe it was fate, but much to my embarrassment, I was the only one who took him up on his invitation. Having let him know I was the Lacy Middleton on the enrollment sheet, he and I ordered a drink and started to get to know one another.

The conversation was strained at first, but when I told Tony that I had a few pieces of native art, instead of just saying, "How nice,” and then talking about himself, he encouraged me to describe them, and to tell him how I had got them. After that, things just progressed, and I found myself telling him about Jim and his illness and death, and my loneliness. He was a very sympathetic listener, and it just poured out of me. I discovered he lived within a couple of miles of my house, though I know I would have remembered him if we had ever met.

After what seemed like minutes, but must have been nearly an hour, during which I had talked almost nonstop, the manager indicated that it was time to close the bar and lock up. While I had not enjoyed myself so much in ages, I guessed that that would be the end of it, but Tony scribbled his name and telephone number on a piece of paper, and asked me if I would give him mine as he would like to follow up with me, both to look at my art pieces and to get to know me better. I hadn't felt so comfortable, and yet so physically drawn to anyone since Jim's death, so I was anxious to see him again, and happily wrote down my name and my cell number. I couldn't believe my good fortune, and was like a teenager again imagining all kinds of fun we could have together. I even allowed myself to feel aroused at the thought of Tony's body being close to mine in my place while looking at my Indian art.

On the morning that Tony was coming, I was frantically going round plumping the cushions, and moving a decorative piece an inch this way, and then going back and moving it back to where it had been originally. This was just an ordinary meeting over a cup of coffee, but I was just like a young girl going out on a first date. I had spent hours getting ready, arranging my hair, and I had put on make up for the first time in ages, nothing too much, just blusher and eye shadow, and a nice demure lip gloss. I also wore a freshly pressed pair of jeans, and a pretty ocean blue top that set off my eyes and blondish hair. The top was rather low cut, showing enough cleavage to announce what was underneath. I felt like a woman again after so many months of not caring about my appearance.

Of course, nothing happened that morning - what was I expecting? We just sat over a cup of coffee, and talked. I noticed that Tony wore a wedding ring, and I asked him about his wife and family. He explained that he had been married, but that his wife had left him some years before, and they had totally lost contact - not even a Christmas Card. It was his fault, he said, he had just been too busy with developing his career, and he had neglected her shamefully, so it came as no surprise when he came home one Sunday after a symposium to find a terse note. When he looked, her car was no longer in the garage, and her clothes were all gone, so he guessed that that was that. His parents were well, as was his one other sibling, a brother. All were about three hours drive away and he tried to see them as often as his schedule allowed. All of this information, plus his rather obvious interest in what I had to say, just fueled my imagination that this may go the way I hoped. And I don't think I was wrong that he seemed to be interested in more than what I had to say, as I saw his eyes appraising my body in a very discreet way.

After about two wonderful hours had flown by, he said that perhaps we should take a look at my Native American pieces, as that was the reason for coming round - disappointing, but true. I was so aware of him when he stood beside me as I showed him my small collection, his warmth, and scent, things about Jim that I missed so much. And when his hand brushed against mine, it was like an electric shock. My body was reacting with tingling between my legs and my nipples hardening; there was no doubt I was physically attracted.

At the end of the morning as he got up to leave, he said that he had been invited to attend a formal dinner in a city about a hundred miles away, and as everyone else would be there with their partners or spouses, perhaps I would like to be his guest and accompany him. Why, I thought, does he seem to mention these things as he is about to leave, as if they were an afterthought? And this was very sudden, no matter what I had been thinking about him. Was he attracted to me in the same way? And to ask me to go out of town with him at this short acquaintance?

He said that a room had already been reserved for him, but if I said yes, he would ring the organizers and get them to book another room for me. I'm ashamed to say that in spite of misgivings, I nearly snapped his hand off, I was so eager to carry on with our relationship, half hoping I suppose, that it might lead to something more intimate.

I was so aroused thinking about what might happen that I went up to my bedroom, and got out my favorite dildo and undressed, looking at myself in the mirror. I was fine really, what can you expect with a woman forty seven years old? I had been fortunate enough that I didn't have to work, as Jim's income had more than provided for us. Sadly, we had never had children, and I spent almost all my time with charity events and sports. I loved tennis, running, swimming and had been on a woman's softball team for over twenty years. So, as I ran my hands over my body I didn't think I had anything to be ashamed of. Lying naked on my bed, I imagined Tony watching me as I ran my hands over my hard little nipples, my flat tummy, and then my sex, as I moved my legs far apart. I had been getting a Brazilian wax for years because I hated to fool with the fear of hair showing when wearing my bathing suit, and besides, Jim had loved it.

Just touching myself and thinking of Tony had me so very wet already, and I was moving my bottom in a rocking motion wanting something inside me to satisfy my need. Oh, just touching the dildo to my hole got it so wet, and I could run it up and down my slit, teasing myself with the thought of where it was going. Wishing I had a mirror on the ceiling or wall, I slowly eased the cock inside my pussy, holding my lips open with one hand, pushing it all the way in until it could go no further. At least as I pulled it out and pushed it in, I could imagine Tony watching me and dropping his clothes on the floor to squeeze his already hard cock. In and out, I couldn't believe how quickly I was ready to cum just from imagining Tony standing there seeing how wet and pink my hole was. Watching me as I fucked myself with one hand and ran my finger round and around my clit with the other. Then he would come to the bed and take over. Wow! I couldn't stop after I came the first time, and had several little climaxes following, something that hadn't happened in so many years.

At last, after what seemed like an age, the day came. When I arrived at the hotel, I went straight to my room. When I say room, I suppose you will all imagine a standard hotel bedroom, but to my utter surprise I discovered that Tony had booked me into a luxury suite, with a separate living room in addition to a bedroom with a luxurious king sized bed. There was a vase of roses on the table, and two champagne flutes on a little tray with a little note card signed by Tony, expressing the hope that our weekend together might be just the beginning of lovely times to come. There was also a neatly printed card welcoming me on behalf of the organizers, and telling me that I would find a bottle of champagne in the refrigerator courtesy of Mr. Alexander.

About fifteen minutes later there was a ring on the telephone. I lifted the handset. It was Tony, asking me if everything was okay. I thanked him effusively, and said that it was very nice indeed, and far more than I had expected. “Nonsense,” he replied, “a special lady should be given the very best, and I hope that once the formalities are over, we will be able to enjoy the opportunity to get to know each other very much better in comfort. I will leave you now to get ready, and I will call to pick you up in an hour's time.”

I quickly unpacked, admiring the purchases I had made earlier in the week. After all the years with poor Jim being so ill I had not shopped for anything in ages, but I felt like a woman coming out of a bad dream. I hung up a very stylish little black dress, and on another hanger a delicious negligee in pale green silk, with matching nightdress. And with a slight blush, an expensive and exquisite half-cup black silk basque and matching panty set. Black sheer nylons and tall spiked naughty heels completed my purchases.

Fifty five minutes later, I stood just inside the lobby to the conference room, nervously twisting my wedding band round my finger, with butterflies in my stomach, and slightly short of breath. As a last thought, after a good soak in the huge bath, I had dabbed perfume between my breasts, and on the mound of my pussy, as well as the more usual places. I was just like a girl going on her first date, me, a widowed woman of nearly fifty, not bad looking I thought, but no movie star.

Tony was precisely on time, neither a minute early, nor a minute late. I thought he looked gorgeous, so neat and dapper in a white tuxedo and black dress shirt, with a deep crimson hand tied bow tie. He looked delighted to see me and looked me over with a silent whistle that made me blush. Clasping my hand in his he led me into the room.

I don't really remember much about the dinner. What I hadn't realized was that Tony was the guest of honor, and that the purpose of the event was to present him with a very prestigious award. But I was in a dream, and my mind kept on turning to what might be going to happen once it was over. Would it just be a case of a goodnight drink, or the start of something more? Tony's romantic gifts led me to hope so, but perhaps I had badly read the signs.

When we got back to my suite, I kicked off my pumps, and sat down on the sofa with my feet curled up under me. Tony opened the refrigerator and poured us each a glass of champagne, before sitting down beside me. “A toast,” he said, raising his glass, “to a beautiful and remarkable lady who did me the greatest honor by consenting to be my companion this evening.”

I blushed. “I am the one who is honored,” I replied, “I hadn't realized that you were such an eminent and important person, while I'm just a rather ordinary middle aged woman.”

“Nonsense,” he said, for the second time that evening, and he smiled. “It would have been so tedious without you, all those pompous men, and their boring speeches.

While he was speaking Tony was stroking my hair, and when he finished, he took my glass and put it down on the table with his. Then gently cradling my chin with his hand, he turned my face towards his, and softly kissed me on the lips, making my heart flutter with joy. We kissed for a long time, gently at first, but then more deeply, and finally passionately, our breaths mingling, and our tongues exploring each other in a slow seductive dance of delight. Oh, he was, and is, such a wonderful kisser, his kisses full of promise of greater delights to come.

Eventually we came up for air, our pulses racing, and our bodies full of desire and longing for consummation. I didn't care what was "proper" or not, I wanted to go where my body wanted to go and I asked him to get comfortable and I would be right back. Taking my negligee into the bathroom I changed and could hardly wait to go out and show him where I wanted this night to go. Tony took a deep breath when he saw me and his smile, his eyes smoldering with desire, made my knees weak. He had only removed his jacket and tie and I went immediately into his arms with a deep kiss and my fingers working to unbutton those dratted formal studs in his shirt. Tony was holding me close and kissing me deeply as he was reaching to unfasten his cuff links. It may seem amusing to some, but we were deadly serious in trying to get the rest of his formal wear off in record time. My hands slipped into his shirt to caress his chest and I felt his nipples harden as I ran my hands over them. You have no idea how wet I was by this time! I wanted this man and I wanted him completely.

He hurriedly rid himself of the rest of his clothes and started kissing me from my mouth to my neck to my shoulder, pushing the straps down and reaching to ease the entire gown off, puddling at my feet. He urged me back toward the bed and pushing me down he climbed on the bed with me, never stopping the kissing. He pushed himself up on his arms and stared at my breasts with such desire and want that I was floating with pleasure that I pleased him. He started to gently kiss and enclose my breasts in his hands. I think I could have climaxed just from this touch. As he flicked his tongue over my nipples and sucked them gently into his mouth I was beyond hunger for this man.

His hands ran down my entire body as he continued to follow his hands with kisses. "Oh, Lacy, you have no idea what I felt for you the first time I saw you,” he murmured.

There was nothing I would not do to bring pleasure to this man. I was his and only wanted to show him how much I lusted for him. How did he want me? Oh, I wanted him in every way.

We ended up kissing deeply with our hands everywhere on each other and could not wait for that connection. I wrapped my legs around his back, reaching down between us to grasp his beautiful, hard and throbbing cock. I couldn't speak, I was so intent on getting him inside me that I just raised my hips up and rubbed his wet tipped cock up and down on my by now dripping pussy. Then easing him to the entrance, I moaned and urged him with my hips and hands on his back, to enter me. It was so wonderful; I couldn't even believe what he was doing to me. I instantly squeezed around him, moaning with the delightful sensation. In and out, oh, oh, oh! Never have I remembered such ecstasy. He started slowly, even stopping when he got deep inside me, and I was so open and fully inflamed with lust, that I couldn't get enough of him, and I cried out urgently, "Oh, more, deeper, oh please!"

He began to go in and out faster and harder and deeper and I could only moan and gasp and squeeze him harder, slipping my hands down to his ass to pull him tighter and tighter into my slippery, soaked tunnel. I felt that I would be reaching a climax soon, so soon and I just used him to give the friction I needed on my clit and deep inside to get me closer and closer. I rose higher and higher and knew I would be tipping over the edge soon, oh this man! Then, it came and I think I may have stopped breathing for a moment or two, and maybe even passed out, so strongly did I cum.

Tony was so gentle and kissed my face with delicate kisses while continuing to push in and out of me, but letting me recover enough to know I wanted this man to be inside me forever and ever. I didn't care about anything else, what he thought of me, what my friends would think of me. This was as close to heaven as I could get on earth. We rode our passion for longer than I would have thought he could hold out, but finally he had to let go and I urged him to fill me with his hot, wonderful seed, and with a loud groan, he froze and started emptying into me. Oh, what a wondrous feeling.

We ended up in each others' arms, murmuring endearments to one another. The remainder of this night was spent sleeping, waking and being drawn to one another for another wonderful coupling, slowly or fast, it didn't matter. I just know that I have never felt so desired and so happy to be with someone. We will see what tomorrow will bring. No matter what, I will never be sorry for this night.

*****

Epilogue

After that weekend we started dating regularly. Sometimes we would go to a concert, or take in a show, followed by dinner at a nice restaurant. At others we would just walk in the park hand in hand, just like a pair of teens. We didn't move in together for some time, but would either spend the night together at his place or mine. Our lovemaking continued to be as wonderful as that first night, and, as Tony remarked, I began to bloom like a lovely rose.

Tony filed for divorce on the basis of estrangement from his wife, and then most wonderful of all, last weekend, he went down on one knee and asked me for the honor of making me his bride. So old fashioned and courteous, but so typical of this lovely man. Once his divorce comes through, we plan to have a quiet wedding, with just a few of our closest friends as guests. Then we will have our honeymoon in Europe, visiting all those wonderful old buildings, and all the amazing museums and art galleries. With Tony as my guide it will be heavenly. I am so happy.