Helen was a fifty-year-old woman with lots of insecurities. She divorced her husband after their two daughters left home to go to college. Her ex-husband never complimented her, so she never believed she was even attractive. 

She was working for a company designing websites. She loved her job; she loved to use her creativity and see the satisfaction in the eyes of her clients when they see the product up and running. She preferred to be assigned to women clients because she could better understand and achieve their needs.

After the divorce, for a while, she dedicated her life to her work. One day she realized that this wasn’t life; she wasn’t old enough to preclude some amusement; she deserved more. 

She decided then to stick to a regular work schedule and give herself some free time. She also decided to get back in shape and started to attend the gym regularly after work. She didn’t think it was so hard to lose weight at her age, but she persisted and never gave up.

Another decision she made was to find a country bar where she could finally realize her dream and learn country line dancing. This wasn’t easy because there wasn’t a place in her town, so every Thursday, after work, she got in her car to drive thirty minutes past the state line and arrive at Duke's Country Saloon.

Duke’s was the name of the former owner of the saloon. The new owner, Sam, kept the name but changed a few things inside, like the old and worn decor, and added live music during weekends. Plus, of course, on Thursdays, Sam offered dance lessons for free, but you were asked to buy at least a drink.

The first time Helen entered the saloon, she was nervous. First of all, she never went to a bar alone, and she felt her outfit wasn’t right for that place, but she didn’t have time to change after work. She was there just to take a look and then decide if she could do that on a regular basis. She also hoped to make new acquaintances. 

After that night, she decided it was worth a second trip. She bought a white button-down shirt and the most important piece for the right outfit: cowboy boots. She always dreamt of having them. She also looked for a cowboy hat but decided to wait to find the right one.

The second time she entered Duke’s, she was ready, or so she thought. She ordered a burger, a beer, and a glass of water. The thing was that she didn’t like beer, but you can’t patronize a country saloon drinking only water and, that wasn’t a place for a Margarita, so she pretended to drink beer while drinking water instead.

She was eating her burger when the Pat Watters Band arrived on the stage. People started to gather around the stage applauding and cheering. She really didn’t know the band, but she knew the songs and loved the atmosphere, so she got carried away.

During the break, Sam called the patrons for the line dancing lesson and Helen caught the opportunity and joined the group. She lost the steps a few times, then Sam suggested she should not look down at her feet but look in front of her and listen to the music.

“Let the music get inside you and feel the rhythm. You’ll get the steps,” he said over the music.

She followed his directions, and it was true, the music was leading her feet and body. Sam was chuckling pleased.

“What? Did I do something wrong?” she asked him.

“Absolutely not! Ya’r doing great. You look like a baby in a candy store,” he replied, still chuckling.

Yes, she was happy.

It was Thursday again and like every Thursday now, she couldn’t wait to finish her job for the day, go to the restroom to change outfits, and drive to Duke’s.

When she got there, Dottie, the bartender and probably Sam’s lover, greeted her.

“Howdy! The usual?” Dottie asked

“Yes, please,” Helen answered.

“Sure, honey. Sit here so we can finally talk and get to know each other. I see you here every Thursday now but I know nothing about ya,” Dottie said, pointing at the stool in front of the counter while preparing a glass of water and giving it to Helen.

“There’s no point in paying for a beer you’ll never drink. No shame if you don’t like it,” Dottie said, winking and making Helen blush.

“Thank you! What can I say? There’s nothing interesting about me. I work in an office, got divorced, and now I’m following my dream to dance. That’s all.” Helen said in a voice barely audible with the music in the background, but Dottie was used to hearing talking with the music around.

It was still early for the crowd to arrive, so Dottie sat beside Helen to talk. They got acquainted and Dottie confirmed what Helen suspected, that she and Sam were lovers. Dottie was named after Dottie West, an old country singer her parents loved. So, country music has been in her DNA since she was born.

“You know, I always worked in saloons for the love of the music and the patrons. I tried to write songs but nothing ever happened, so I just danced. I started working here when Sam bought the saloon. I’m an old woman but we all need a warm bed to go to if you know what I mean,” Dottie said, winking and elbowing Helen. 

“Indeed, I know what you mean. If only…” Helen replied in a low voice.

The saloon was getting crowded, and Dottie had to go back behind the counter to serve drinks and sandwiches.

A guy took Dottie’s stool beside Helen.

“Hey, Mark! How are you doing?” Dottie said cheerfully.

“Tired like hell but ready to dance. ‘Bout you, hon?” he said to Dottie.

“Fine, as usual. Oh, Mark, this is Helen. Helen, this is Mark,” she said, wanting Helen to meet new friends.

“Pleased to meet you, Mark” Helen said shyly.

“The pleasure is all mine,” Mark replied with a strong handshake, holding Helen’s hand a little longer than usual.

Mark, like her, had a white button-down shirt, jeans, and cowboy boots. He also had a worn cowboy leather hat. He was a little taller than Helen, with broad shoulders, dark eyes, and a dark mustache. Helen could smell his masculine essence of leather and musk. Very enticing. She needed a distraction. She was feeling emotional and aroused. It was a long time since she felt that excitement meeting a man.

Somebody was poking on her shoulder and Helen jumped. It was Sam.

“Sorry, hon! I didn’t mean to scare you. I saw you here and wanted to let you know I’m making groups for dancing. Do you want to be in the first one?” Sam asked her.

“Sure,” Helen said, hopping off the stool to join the group. She needed to put some distance between her and Mark. “Dottie, can you please hold my purse under the counter?”

“Sure thing, hon.”

“Hey Mark, do you wanna join us?” Sam asked Mark.

“Oh, no thanks. I need to drink first and enjoy the show. Later though,” Mark answered, wiping his mustache, turning the stool, and leaning with his elbows on the counter, in position to enjoy the show.

The music started and they all began dancing. After several weeks, Helen was now a good dancer, actually, she was now one of the best and Sam asked her to dance beside him. Dottie wasn’t worried because she knew Sam’s heart was completely in her hands. From where she stood, Dottie could see the dancing group, but she could also see the side of Mark’s face and his eyes were glued on Helen.

Dottie leaned down to whisper in Mark’s ear, “Enjoying what you see?” not waiting for an answer.

Dottie smiled at the idea of the romance. She was still a romantic dreamer and she liked Helen. She knew Mark was a good guy, a little rough sometimes, but respectful, and still handsome.

The dancers took a break and Dottie prepared their drinks, placing Helen’s glass of water at the same spot she occupied before to be sure she’d sit beside Mark. She loved to play the matchmaker.

“You did great out there! Country music really got ya,” Mark said when Helen finished her water.

“I love the music and Sam is a great teacher,” Helen said, slightly blushing. She wasn’t used to compliments.

In the background, there was Two-Step music and Helen was tapping the rhythm on the counter, watching people dancing. Dottie tapped Mark’s shoulder to draw his attention, she was gesturing to him and finally, he got it.

“Would you like to dance?” Mark asked Helen  

“Ehm, well, I've never danced the Two-Step,” Helen replied

“Oh, don’t worry, hon, Mark is good. Just let him lead and, as I said, follow the music,” Sam replied, understanding what was happening.

“OK then, but if I step on your foot, don’t say I didn’t warn you!” Helen said, giggling and hopping off the stool.

They headed to the dancing floor, Mark standing in front of Helen.

“OK, eyes on me. Don’t look down, just feel the music as you do for the line dancing. Your left hand on my upper arm with your fingers around my shoulder’s muscle. Like this. Right,” Mark instructed Helen.

Helen was touching his muscles and she liked the firmness she felt.

“You start with your right foot ahead first and follow this rhythm quick-quick-slow slow; quick-quick-slow slow. OK? Let’s try” he started dancing, leading her, and repeating the rhythm with a low voice. After a few minutes, Helen was following perfectly. So, he decided to be bold and to shorten distances. Not too much, just a little bit to see her reaction. She didn’t do anything. Did she notice that? After a couple of rounds on the floor, he got a little bit closer and saw Helen blushing, but she didn’t stop him. He decided that this was enough. He didn’t want to challenge his luck. 

The song ended.

“Do you mind continuing with another song?” Helen asked, hopeful, not wanting for this moment to end so quickly.

“Sure! But this time, you lean on me, close your eyes, your right foot between mine, your left on the outside, and follow my lead. OK? And as you do with the line dancing, let your hips sway with the rhythm,” Mark instructed.

“OK,” she answered, blushing. She was sweating now, and not for the fatigue. The heat of his body touching hers, his smell, his low husky voice singing the rhythm in her ear made her heart beat fast.

She didn't recall having experienced anything like this before, but suddenly she felt like they were alone, and the only sounds were his voice and the beating of her heart.

“What? Did I step on your feet?” she asked when he suddenly stopped dancing.

He chuckled and said, “No, the band is taking a break. Let’s go get something to drink.” 

They headed to the bar where Dottie already prepared their drinks, water for Helen and Budweiser, long neck, for Mark.

“Would you like to sit at that table over there? We can talk a little,” Mark asked, pointing to a small round table on a far corner.

“Sure! Why not,” she replied nervously.

“So, what do you do when you are not dancing here?” Mark asked once they were sitting.

“I design websites,” she answered, glad he decided to be the icebreaker.

“Wow! That sounds interesting. I think it’s a complex job. I love browsing the internet and it’s intriguing, but I have no idea how everything works inside my computer. So, you spend hours watching a monitor?” he continued the conversation.

“Yes, but not always. I also spend many hours with clients to understand their needs and writing or drawing things on paper. Then at five, I turn off my computer and head to the gym. Otherwise, I’d go crazy. What about you?” she asked, curious to know him better.

“Well, if you promise me you won’t laugh, I can tell you,” He answered, taking time and sipping his beer. Yes, he was in awe. She was smart; she probably had a degree, while he barely finished high school and had a job that didn’t require many skills. Or so he thought. 

Then she surprised him saying, “I never laugh at somebody’s job. In my profession, I met a lot of different people with any kind of profession. I learned that any profession needs hard work. It might seem different on the surface, but then if you think better, you might find all the little difficulties any job can have. So, surprise me. Tell me about your weird job.”

“OK, then. I make pipes. Tobacco pipes, to be clear,” he said in a breath, leaning on the back of the chair, wiping beer’s foam from his mustache.

She glared at his mouth, licking her lips. In her head, a few dirty thoughts were taking place. She was wondering how the mustache would feel on her skin, on her pussy. 

“As you can see, I’m not laughing. As a matter of fact, I’m very curious. So, tell me why you chose this activity? And how are you doing pipes?” she asked aghast. With all the people she met for her job, with all the myriad of jobs she advertised, this was the first time she ever met a pipe maker. 

Mark told her that when he was a young boy, his father used to read Maigret’s novels. He had the whole collection. Maigret was an investigator, and on the covers of the books, he always had a tobacco pipe. Being young, he got curious about pipes and went to the library to know more about them. He learned about the best wood to make one, and how the wood could change the flavor of the tobacco. Or how the different shapes can give different feelings to the nose. How different mouths need different lips. 

So, after spending months in the library studying pipes, one day he asked his father to go with him to buy a wood knife and a drill. They had plenty of wood in their land, so this wasn’t a problem. And so, he started.

“Oh my gosh! That’s incredible,” she was honestly surprised. “How is your business? I can design a website for you, with your story, if you’d like. As a friend, in my spare time. If you’d like, I can take a few pictures of you working on a pipe,” she suggested, excited for this new feeling of doing something for a friend.  

“Well, I never thought about it. I use the internet to buy new tools and materials, but I never thought about having my own website. Sure, why not. I can show you my pipe’s collection- OK, this sounds wrong. Sorry, I meant-” he tried to apologize.

“I get it. Don’t worry,” Helen reassured him, placing a hand on his forearm, a firm and warm forearm.

At that moment, Dottie and Sam appeared at their table. Helen immediately withdrew her hand.

“Do you mind if we join you? I need a break and there isn’t any other table available,” Dottie said.

“Sure!” Mark said, moving his chair closer to Helen’s to make room for the two friends.

They started chatting and getting to know each other better.

It was almost midnight and Helen didn’t want this night to end, but she had to wake up early and had a deadline for her project. She knew she might end working late on Friday, so she’d better go home.

“I’m sorry, guys, I’m having a great time, but I have to wake up early tomorrow and I have a thirty-minute drive to get home. Mark, this is my phone number,” she said, writing her phone number on a napkin, “Give me a call so we can schedule a photoshoot any time after Monday. Dottie, my purse is still under the counter?” she asked, getting up and hugging her new friends.

She left almost running. She had to go without turning back, or she wouldn’t leave. That was the best night since... since forever maybe.

Driving back home, she recalled the whole night. She was excited. Mark was amazing. Was he really amazing, or was it just her need for a man to make her see things? She felt a tingling sensation down to her pussy. Was she excited about him or about the thought of a man interested in her? 

Helen got home, took a shower, went to bed but couldn’t sleep. His smell was still invading her nostrils. The memory of touching his shoulder and hand while dancing, and touching his arm, made her palm prickling. 

She turned on her back, with a hand on her breast and the other on her belly; she started stroking herself. She then pulled her nightshirt up to her neck. 

With her eyes closed, she stroked her breasts, gently at first, then with a little more strength. She then pinched her nipples and that tingling on her pussy got stronger. She felt the urge to touch it. She bent her knees and opened her legs. The skin on her inner thighs was soft, warm, and smooth. She was imagining Mark touching her there and feeling the smoothness. The hands went slowly up, and up, and up, until touching her panties. They were a little wet. 

At this point, she had two voices in her head, one said “Go ahead. Please yourself. You deserve it,” while the other one said, “Ew! That’s nasty. Don’t do that.”

Helen wasn’t used to touching herself. Probably she never felt the need. Or probably nobody ever explained to her that there is nothing to be ashamed of. It’s a natural need but it’s something parents won’t talk about to their children. Helen herself never talked about it with her daughters. Her ex-husband accused her of being frigid, filing for divorce.

After touching her panties for a little, she decided to pull them off and to take the nightshirt all the way off. She was now naked, and the feeling was good and right. 

She opened her legs wider to feel the cold air on her pussy and her nipples were stiff.

Touching her nipples, she was now incredibly sensitive. She twisted and pinched them until she felt like a myriad of little shocks starting from her nipples down to her pussy. Slowly, she stroked her belly, her inner thighs, and up to the hair on her pussy.

With two fingers, she spread open her puffy lips. She stayed still for a few seconds enjoying the sensation of colder air caressing her pussy. She wished Mark were there, blowing air to her pussy and she imagined the feeling of his mustache on her pussy.

When she slid one finger up and down between her lips, she felt wet and sticky. Ignoring that voice saying, “Ew! Stop it,” she continued this exciting game. She wanted to feel and enjoy it.

With her middle finger, she slid around her wet entrance until she decided to enter it. Slowly first. 

“This position is not the best,” she said to herself. She turned on the light, got up and knelt on the bed, leaning her back against the head of the bed and her thighs wide open. She could see her finger glistering with her wetness. She smelled it and, feeling bold, she licked it to taste herself. She liked the salty flavor.

She moved her fingers back to her pussy and watched her finger going in and out her pussy, wetter and wetter. She added a second finger holding her breath for the incredible sensation.

With the middle finger of the other hand, she was stroking her clit with slow circular movements. 

“Jeez! I’m fingering myself. Why did I wait so long?” 

At this point, she felt the impulse to move her fingers a little faster and to push her fingers deeper.

She closed her eyes and pulled her head back. 

Her breathing was faster. She loved every single instant of what she was doing, and when she reached that moment, the apex when you know you are very close to the release, she wanted to stop the time but couldn’t. She let herself go. Her fingers moved faster and deeper. She hoped to have other two hands to pinch her nipples.

She was now holding her breath.

“Yes. I’m cumming. Yes. Yes. Yesss. Yessssssssssssss. Aaahhhhhhhh,” she cried, shaking.

With her legs quivering, her fingers still moving in and out, her clit extremely sensitive, she wanted more. She wanted it all. She wanted to be fucked for real.

She waited to calm down with her fingers still in her pussy, feeling the little contractions around them.

“Wow! I didn’t know it could be so amazing,” she said to herself, looking down at her pussy. Slowly she moved her fingers out, seeing her juice on her fingers and a wet spot on her sheet. She touched her wetness on her fingers and then licked them, liking this new sensation, this new naughty Helen. 

She turned off the light, still naked, and fell into a resting sleep.

When she woke up the following morning, she felt a new self, and this new Helen liked her nakedness. The new Helen wanted to please herself more. 

That day at work, she did great; she felt great. She finished her project with just an hour of overtime. Better than planned. Before leaving the office, she checked her phone left in the drawer to not get distracted and found a few texts. Three were from her daughters asking how she was doing and saying they were both planning to spend Easter Sunday with her, in three weeks. The others were from an unknown number.

“Hi Helen, this is Mark. How are you doing?”

“Hi Helen, sorry to bother. Maybe you’re busy. Sam is planning another dancing night. You coming?”

“OK, you are probably busy. Please text or call me when you see this.”

And now, after a day immersed in her job, she recalled the previous night, the feelings, the excitement. She was feeling the tingles again in her pussy and looking down, she saw her nipples poking through her shirt.

“Oh my!” she said to herself, looking around. The office was empty, and, for a moment, she had a dirty idea. But then she heard somebody whistling. It was Dave, the janitor. 

In the car she called Mark, she didn’t know what to say but she wanted to hear his voice. She wanted to see him.

“Helen! How are you doing?” he said, answering.

“I’m fine. Sorry but I wanted to close the project and didn’t hear the phone,” she explained.

“No problem, you told us yesterday about the deadline. I’m glad you finished. Are you too tired to go to Duke’s? I can pick you up,” he suggested, obviously anxious to see her again.

“Oh no, I don’t want you to drive all the way here. I need to go home, take a shower, change clothes, and I’ll be on my way, probably in an hour. Is it too late?” she asked, hoping to make it sooner.

“I don’t want you to drive all this way if you are tired. Please text me your address. When you are ready, I’ll be outside waiting for you. OK? Text me the address,” and he hung up, not giving her the chance to rebut.

Chivalry is not dead!

She wasn’t one that spends hours in front of a mirror to apply makeup or to style her hair, so she was quick. She was putting on her suede jacket when she heard a roar on her driveway. Feeling bold and excited, she decided to slip her toothbrush into her purse. Just in case she would spend the night out.

During the drive to Duke’s, she was the talker. She was clearly nervous and excited, and she needed to find a distraction. He seemed to enjoy her talking, judging by his serene expression.

“OK, I’m done talking. What about you? How was your day?” she asked then, wanting to hear his voice. 

“Oh, I made a new pipe and while I was working on it, although I generally listen to the music, I was making my mind around your idea of a website, and I decided that I like the idea very much,” he said.

“Really? Oh, I’m so happy. I can go to your shop one of these days and take pictures,” she replied extremely happy. This was also a good excuse to spend more time with him. 

When they entered Duke's, Dottie welcomed them with a hug. Helen didn’t expect such a warm welcome, but she liked it. 

Sam spotted her at the bar, and almost running, got to her. “Here she is! I need your help tonight. I’ve been asked for an extra lesson, and I need you to help me with this huge group. I didn’t know how to contact you, then Dottie remembered that you gave your number to Mark, so I called him asking to call you. Hope you don’t mind,” Sam said in one breathe.

“Absolutely! I’m glad he did because I needed to get out tonight. Let me drink some water first and I’ll be with you,” she said, seeing Dottie pouring water in a big glass and handing a beer to Mark.

She danced for more than an hour nonstop. She needed a break to drink some water. She was talking with Dottie, meanwhile looking for Mark, trying not to be noticed. 

“He’s on the dancing floor,” Dottie said. 

“What? Who?” Helen asked, blushing and turning to look toward the dancing floor.

“Hey, I’ve done this work for years now; I know people and I know what I’m talking about. You have your mind somewhere else,” Dottie said, laughing. Then she said, “Helen! Close your mouth, you’re drooling!” laughing, noticing Helen's face while watching Mark dancing.

“Well, you have to admit, he’s something. I didn’t notice yesterday, but he’s sexy when he dances,” Helen explained.

“You are telling me you didn’t notice him yesterday? How sexy he is?” Dottie said, teasing her friend.

“Ehm, well... Yes, I noticed, but I didn’t notice his butt,” Helen remarked, whistling and making fans with her hand, “Wow, he’s hot.”

After another round of dancing class, Helen and Sam joined Mark at the bar. 

“Dottie, am I still in time for a burger? I forgot I didn’t have dinner and I’m starving,” Helen asked.

“Sorry, hon, we closed the kitchen thirty minutes ago. I can try to fix you something, though,” Dottie said.

“I can fix you dinner at my place,” Mark said before Dottie could go to the kitchen.

Dottie and Sam exchanged a look, smiling, and Dottie winked at him.

“I don’t want to bother. Don’t worry. I can resist and make something when I get home,” she hesitated. She wanted to go to Mark’s but didn’t want to look too eager. 

“No bother at all. Really. Let’s go!” Mark said, paying for his beer and handing Helen her jacket.

“Have a good night, kids,” Dottie said, in a mocking tone, winking at Helen.

Helen was happy, hesitant, worried, excited. All at the same time. Was she reading too much in this situation? What if he didn’t like her? 

“Make yourself at ease. Down the hall is the bathroom if you need it. Is water fine or you want some wine?” Mark asked, trying to hide his own nervousness.

“I only drink water. I sometimes like some liquor after dinner. I need to use the restroom, then I’ll help you in the kitchen. And thank you for inviting me,” Helen replied.

“No worries,” he answered, watching her heading to the bathroom. She probably didn’t realize how sexy her butt was. Closing his eyes, he imagined that butt naked against his groin. 

“I need to think of something else,” he said to himself, opening the fridge.

“Any allergy?” he asked when Helen was back in the kitchen, pulling out bread, butter, eggs, and cheese.

“No pickles for dear life. I can manage anything else but pickles and cucumbers,” she said with a disgusted expression.

He chuckled and said, “Interesting; I hate pickles as well. I don’t mind cucumbers in a salad, but I don’t generally add them. How do you feel about grilled cheese?” he asked her, happy to have something in common with her, other than the love for country dancing.

“I love it! So, I see there is no Mrs. Mark in the picture as this house is very male. How come, if I’m not nosy?” she asked, wanting to know more about him.

“There never was one. In the beginning, I was too busy with my job. Then, I was so used to being alone that I couldn’t bear to share my cave with another person. I love my kingdom and my independence. Of course, I’ve always appreciated a little sexy, female company,” he said the last sentence winking and raising his glass of water, waiting for the pot to warm up.

 “What about you? Any Mr. Helen? Being you here makes me think he’s not in the picture either. But I could be wrong,” he asked, curious as well. 

“There was one, divorced. Now I understand your feelings about sharing your cave. I loved my husband, years ago, and living with him was fine, but now that I’m alone, I love my solitude,” she answered, hoping he wouldn’t ask her why they divorced. She wasn’t ready to share that part with him.

They sat at the counter, eating, drinking, and talking.

“No beer?” she asked, seeing he was drinking water.

“I don’t usually drink beer at home unless I have friends over for a poker night,” he answered.

She was pleased to notice they had so many similarities.

He finished his grilled cheese, drank a full glass of water, then turned to her trying to find the right words, the right input. 

She was still eating but she could feel his eyes on her. She didn’t know what to do or say—facing him and meeting his gaze? Not a chance. 

He waited for her to finish her sandwich to turn her chair.

“You are beautiful,” he said, stroking her cheek with his thumb.

She didn’t want to say it wasn’t true, but at the same time, she didn’t know how to accept the compliment, so she just looked into his eyes and thanked him with a shy smile, bending her head to hold his hand between cheek and shoulder. She liked the sensation of his warm hand on her skin.

With his thumb, Mark traced her lips while moving closer to her, until their nose tips were touching. 

Helen closed her eyes, deep breathing to relax herself or at least she tried to.

Mark then got up and helped Helen to get up as well. He hugged her, kissing her neck, her jaw until he reached her mouth. He kissed her lips gently to give her time to respond. With his hands on her face, his forehead on hers, he said, “I’m going to kiss you now. If you don’t want to, just stop me and I can take you home,” he said, in a low, husky voice, and so he did, kissing her gently on her lips. 

She didn’t stop him, and he continued. With his tongue, he traced her lips, sending goosebumps all over her body. She hugged his neck while opening her lips and let his tongue meet hers. 

Breaking their kiss to take a breath, he held her hand in his, turned off the light in the kitchen, and led her to the bedroom. There he turned on the lamp on the nightstand. 

He looked at her, whispering, “You are so beautiful, so warm, so sexy.”

“You are not so bad either,” she said, smiling and hugging him. “It’s hot in here,” she continued, giving him a hint to undress her.

They unbuttoned each other’s shirts. She inhaled the musky scent of his skin, so warm and firm, with dark hair on his chest.

He looked mesmerized at her heavy breasts, tracing the hem of her bra with his fingers tip, bending down to kiss her there, making a path along the hem with his tongue.

She moaned in pleasure, looking down to see what he was doing to her, holding her hands behind his neck. She could see her stiff nipples poking through her bra. What she didn’t see but felt was the wetness between her legs.

His hands were on her hips, tracing the edge of her jeans to stop at the button. He unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans and slipped a hand inside, on top of her panties. She began purring for the hot sensation.

“Mmm. You’re deliciously wet. All for me?” he whispered, then kissed her, with his hand still on her mound and one finger slightly caressing the wet spot of her panties.

“I need you inside me. Now” Helen whispered between kisses.

“No rush, I need to play with you first, to enjoy your sexy body. I need to taste you first,” he replied in a deep, aroused voice in between kisses.

Pulling her jeans down her legs, he squatted to inhale her scent, kissing her mound on top of her panties, his hands sliding up the back of her thighs, reaching that crease where the thighs joined the butt cheeks. She was smooth, warm, and silky. 

“I love your choice of underwear, so incredibly sexy. It’ll be challenging to hold on, but it’ll be worth it,” he said, kissing and licking her mound still through her panties and squeezing her butt cheeks. 

Helen could barely breathe at that point. Her legs were like jelly from the excitement. 

Hooking his fingers to the hem of her thong, Mark pulled the thong down her legs and off her feet. He then gently pushed her on the bed. She sat and was dragging herself up to the head of the bed when he stopped her.

“Wait. Do not move,” he said, pulling her closer to the edge of the bed, opening her legs wide, and kissing her mound, inhaling her womanly scent of excitement. 

She pulled her arms back on the mattress to hold herself up and bent her head down to look at him. It was an incredibly erotic sight, and as she imagined in her solitary nights, the feeling of his mustache tickling her pussy was incredible.

She then laid down on the bed and bent her knees up to have her pussy wide open before him. 

With one hand he was pinching her nipple, the other was holding her lips open for his tongue to slide from her clit, down to her entrance. After a few seconds, minutes, or hours, she didn’t know; his tongue entered her pussy making her lift her hips up off the bed.

“Whoa,” Helen said, moaning not able to say anything else. Her brain was like scrambled eggs at that moment. She could just feel and enjoy it.

He then moved his tongue to her clit, sucking gently, and with the middle finger entered her pussy.

“Yess,” she cried, panting and lifting her hips up.

He added a second finger, hooking them inside her, still pinching her nipple with the other hand and sucking her clit.

Helen pushed her heels on the mattress, held the sheets in her fists, and her hips were moving up and down at his own rhythm. She was panting and moaning; her head was waving from side to side.

“Jeez, Mark- I’m cumming. Oh my- Don’t stop, please- Yes. Yes. Yeeess. Yeeeeeeeeeeesssssssss,” she cried out, cumming, hard. Her body shaking, her legs quivering.

Mark waited for her to stop shaking, still pinching her nipple, and two fingers still in her pussy, and his tongue licking all her juices. When she stopped shaking, he gently moved on top of her, kissing her so she could taste herself in his mouth. 

“Now, I need to fill you with my cock. Do I need a condom?” he asked, placing the head of his cock right at her entrance.

“I’m safe,” she said, panting.

With a firm thrust, his cock entered her pussy, making her back arch. He bent down to suck her nipples, one first then the other, feeling her tight pussy squeezing his cock.

She pulled her knees to her chest, placing her hands on his butt to push him deeper.

“Message received,” he said a moment before thrusting harder and deeper. He waited a moment to see her reaction. He knew he was rough, but that was how he liked it. He just needed to test her first. She didn’t complain and was smiling, biting her lower lip, moaning. He interpreted those signs as acceptance, so he continued to fuck her roughly and she moaned, she purred, squeezed his butt and pushed him deeper.

“This is going to be fast, sorry but you’re so hot I can’t hold back,” he said before speeding up the rhythm of his thrusts. She followed his rhythm rocking her hips.

“Yesssss. Yessss. Yes, Mark. Yesssssssssssss,” she cried out her release a few seconds before his.

“Sorry I was rough,” Mark said, still panting a little later, lying beside her.

“Well, I guess I like it rough, seeing my reaction,” she said, giggling, stroking his chest.

Still, he felt the need to clarify, “That’s how I like it. I mean, I like the foreplay a lot, sometimes even more. But then I like the rough penetration; I don’t want to scare you.”

“For the past twenty years or so, it was always the same position, the same, barely there, foreplay. I really liked it tonight and I’d like to try other positions if you don’t mind,” she whispered, embarrassed.

He hugged her, kissed her, and then said, “I’d love that very much.”

They fell asleep, hugged each other, exhausted.

When she woke up at the first light of the day, she ran to the bathroom to pee and brush her teeth. When she got back to the bedroom, he was still asleep, lying on his side. The view of his butt was something and she stayed there for a few minutes. She realized then that her ex-husband was wrong; he was totally wrong. She wasn’t frigid. He was the one who couldn’t excite her. 

With this thought, she approached the bed, gently pushing Mark onto his back, trying not to wake him up, and bent down to his cock. She could still smell herself on it. She took his shaft with her hand, tracing the length of his shaft with her thumb and then with her tongue. His cock was getting hard. She took it in her mouth, enjoying the feeling of it. She never took her husband’s cock in her mouth, she never wanted and he never asked her to.

Mark was half-dreaming about something hot and wet enfolding his cock. With his eyes still closed, he was touching the bed beside him to find Helen, but he couldn’t find her. He slowly opened his eyes and realized that she was giving him a blowjob.

“Fuck!” he exclaimed in a sleepy voice.

She looked up with sultry eyes, his cock in her mouth, and met his eyes. What a view! 

“Be aware, I’m about to cum,” he said, hoping she wouldn’t stop. And she didn’t stop. She pushed his cock deeper in her throat, gagging a little but without stopping. She thought that if he allowed her to cum in his mouth, something her husband never did, she could do the same.

As he did the night before inside her pussy, he was rough fucking her mouth as well. She gagged a little more but never stopped sucking and licking his cock.

Placing his hands on the back of her head, he came in her throat, groaning.

Helen released his cock, gently, licking all his cum, and moving up, straddling him. They kissed hard, deep, making love with their tongues. After a few minutes, he got hard again.

She lifted her body on her knees and went down, impaling herself, slowly to feel all his length stretching her pussy. He let her enjoy that feeling for some time allowing her pussy to get wet; then, with a quick movement, with his hands on her side, he lifted her up, pulled his cock out of her. She didn’t know what was happening until she found herself on her hands and knees and he was behind her. 

“You said you want to try new positions, and this is one of my favorites,” he said, pushing her back down so her chest and face were on the bed. With a firm thrust, he entered her very wet pussy and spanked her amazing cheeks. Then he began fucking her pussy from behind.

They came almost together. When he lay down to hug her, he found she was crying, “Oh honey, did I hurt you?”

Sniffing, she said, “No, not at all; in fact, I liked it very much.”

“So why are you crying?” he asked.

“Because my husband accused me of being frigid,” she said, laughing between tears.

“You frigid?” and he laughed with her.

They spent the weekend naked, making love, eating, watching tv, making love again. 

She found the pleasure of intimacy, and to make love not only on a bed or in the missionary position.

After that weekend, he sometimes invades her cave, sometimes she invades his, but they still appreciate their own solitude and live apart.

She designed an amazing website for him, increasing his business and production. He taught her a few things and having small hands, she sometimes helped him.

Every Thursday and Friday you can find them dancing at Duke’s, happy like never before. She now has a cowboy hat, a present from Dottie and Sam for her birthday.

There is no such a thing as a frigid woman but a man not interested in knowing how to excite a woman.