My marriage had been celibate for years. After our daughter was born, my wife had lost interest in sex. I'd suggested she see our doctor about it, but she felt too embarrassed. She never wanted more than a cuddle. Don't get me wrong, I supported her decision to stop working to raise kids. She was a good mother, and she kept a clean tidy home, tending to my other domestic needs, while I worked all hours. I'd 'played away' a couple of times, but never looked for a relationship. And now I am no longer in the spring of youth, or as slender as I had been!

I'd started 'chatting' to Marion a year before on an online game site we both played. We got on well, and gradually learned more about each other. As our messages became more private, she explained she was a widow, just retired from government service, and had no intention of marrying again, but did miss intimacy. She said she did not want to break up anybody's relationship either. Her own kids were grown and had left home. So she now had more time to pursue her own interests. She did not want to spend her days as Mum's Taxi, or just Grand-baby sitting!

Finally we exchanged photos, and I told her that she had looked after herself well, not to mention that a tall, slim blonde was unusual for a senior citizen! I knew from our talks that she was bright intellectually (had a good business degree), and was well travelled. She was kind enough to suggest that I looked like 'her taste' in men. I hesitated, asked her not to be offended, and asked if she would like to meet and see if we had 'chemistry' in person. No promises, no expectations, just an afternoon of frolic perhaps?

There was a long pause on the phone, then she said, 'If we meet somewhere halfway, new to both of us, with no promises?'

I agreed and suggested Bristol. She said 'perfect' and we agreed to a date.

I booked a room at a good hotel, and a couple of weeks later found myself on the motorway, hoping to share a bed with a woman I'd never even shaken hands with. Was she a stalker? A serial killer? A blackmailer? Was she going to come at all? Was I being really stupid? I was in a suit, as she had told me once that she felt a gentleman should wear a suit for a meeting, and she loved the look. I arrived, parked, and checked in. There was no sign of her car, but I was thirty minutes early, so I had a cup of tea (very British!) to calm down.

Shortly, her car arrived, and I politely greeted her with a kiss on the cheek. She was dressed in jeggings with a light ivory wool jersey. She wore a thin gold chain around her neck. She was exactly like her picture. Her eyes were searching my face for emotion and relaxed at what she saw. I told her I had checked in, but offered her a drink as I saw her hands shaking before she hid them. We sat in the bar while she had her wine. She told me that she rarely drank, as it was not advised with her thyroid medication.

But for a change, hotel wine was not bad at all! We agreed we were both as nervous as first date teenagers and it was ridiculous!

Shortly, she sat straight, looked me in the eye, and said, 'Shall we see what fun we two old fools can have then?

We went to the room and I undressed quickly. I helped her remove her boots. She quietly removed her clothes, and slipped under the covers. The sheets were cold and we just smiled into each others' eyes as our hands lightly caressed our bodies as the bed warmed. I told her how relieved I was that she was not a serial killer, and she joked that I shouldn't be too sure yet!

We lightly kissed, then grew more aggressive, passionately bruising our lips on each other, as our resistance caved in, and we pulled our bodies tight to each other. As her hands ran down my back, I kissed her neck and throat. She moaned with pleasure, and writhed slightly. My hands explored her nipples, rolling them gently between my thumb and forefinger. Her hands explored between us, one gripping my growing erection.

She said, 'I love to feel you respond, growing in my hand. Why did you say you were only average size? I promise you that you are already bigger than my husband's.'

Needless to say, I flexed in her hands as we chuckled.

I reached carefully between her thighs while looking into her eyes. She had shaved freshly for me. As if reading my mind, she said, 'It makes me feel more confident, and sexually attractive'.

I stroked her, and she was wet, so I slipped a finger in and gently stroked. I slid my lips past her nipples, over her belly and into her honeypot. I slid my hands under her bottom and squeezed, lifting her to my mouth. I licked her clitoris as she stretched in spasm, then slipped a tongue inside her, as far as I could. She was warm, moist, and truly delicious. I felt the surgical scarring she had told me of, but the flow continued, until she said she was ready for the 'real thing'.

'Give it to me now,' she said, before gripping my erection, and boldly leveraged myself over her.

I felt her thighs around me, as she looked up at me, her eyes sparkling and happy. I slowly eased into her, until our pubic bones collided. I relished the sensation of being inside a lover. Marion moaned that it had been too long. We started moving against each other, tasting each others' lips. straining for orgasm to approach. Feeling each others' pulse rise, perspiration appeared as a sheen on our bodies as we each strained for deep ecstasy. It seemed seconds to me until I spilled my seed within her, and she milked me as she came, but she assured me that I had not been premature! We lay joined, quietly reflecting, as our skin cooled, enjoying that intimacy that was to be ours many times in the future. Talking later, we agreed we had both taken a risk, but it was really worth it.