She lived around the corner from where I lived with my wife. I first noticed her on a morning walk. I usually walk alone for half an hour or so before breakfast.
She was ahead of me, dressed in shorts with bare legs and a great ass. A few days later, we passed, going in opposite directions; she smiled at me. Over the next few weeks, we saw each other several times a week, giving a smile and a wave. On cooler mornings, she switched to spandex tights. Walking behind her was a cock raising experience!
Seemly without intent, we occasionally began to walk together. We introduced ourselves. Her name was Kelly. She later told me she was fifty but looked ten years younger with a smile that lit up her face. She wore a simple wedding band, and I’d seen her working with a guy in her front garden. I assumed he was her husband but knew nothing about her domestic arrangements. She never asked about mine.
Our conversation was light; the main topics were the weather, sport, and current news. I’d occasionally compliment her dress and receive a smile in return. It might have been my imagination, but there seemed a hint that more overt flirting would be acceptable. I didn’t take the hint, if that was what it was, for fear of losing the pleasure of her company for a short time now on most days.
All that changed thanks to a storm. It was a warm, humid summer morning. My wife was away. I was tempted to stay in bed and watch porn! In hindsight, it would have been an abysmal decision!
I met Kelly, perhaps a kilometre from our homes. She was coming in the other direction, but I crossed and walked with her. Given the hot morning, she wore shorts and a singlet top that hinted at a sports bra underneath. A sheen of sweat made her skin glow. I complimented her and got a smile that, as always, hinted at more—or was my brain playing tricks?
It began to rain. Gentle at first, and then, as thunder clapped, it belted down. Kelly took off. Laughing like a school kid, she ran through the rain.
“Come on. Mike,” she called. “I’ll race you home.”
Fifteen minutes later, we sheltered under her front porch laughing. We were soaked. Kelly was a mess. Her hair hung wet across her face. Her singlet top was now nearly transparent. Her sports bra was noticeable, hinting at her nipples. She had never looked so sexy.
I turned to go, but she stopped me.
“You’d better come in, Mike,” she said. “It’s dangerous to be out in a storm.”
I looked down at myself.
Kelly laughed. “I’ll find you something to wear and dry your clothes in the dryer.”
“Ted’s away,” she added with a mischievous smile, or was that yet again my imagination?
Fishing a key from a pocket on her shorts, she unlocked the front door.
“Wait here,” she said, disappearing into what I assumed was the main bedroom.
She returned, handing me a Hilton hotel robe and a towel.
“A legacy of a wild weekend in Singapore,” she said with a laugh.
“You can change here.”
“I’ll go change and meet you in the kitchen.”
I stripped off my wet shorts, top and briefs. Drying myself with the towel, I frantically tried to get my cock to deflate. Slipping on the robe, which came to my knees, I walked into the kitchen.
The sight that greeted me caused my cock to reinflate! Kelly wore a short silky robe that barely covered her ass. She was facing away from the door and slightly bent over, making coffee. As a result, the lower parts of the bare cheeks of her glorious ass were on view. If that wasn’t an invitation, I didn’t know what was.
I walked up behind her. Her hair was still damp. She smelt deliciously of lemon and jasmine.
I whispered in her ear. “Would you object if I said I wanted to kiss you?”
“Only if that was all you planned to do,” came her throaty response.
