A Widow Rediscovers What Life Is All About Final Part
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Bob and Karen met Rachel and Stephen when their sons began primary school. The two boys, Jake and Sam, quickly became friends and so did their parents. Bob and Stephen enjoyed going to the pub together. Rachel’s bouncy, joyous personality contrasted from Karen’s more serious, business-like persona, but they developed a truly intimate friendship. The two couples would dine at one or the others houses nearly once a week, and they took the boys away for a joint vacation on several occasions.
However, when Sam was eight and Rachel was forty four, Stephen died of a sudden heart attack. Bob and Karen did everything that best friends can at a time of tragedy, but Rachel was inconsolable. After a year of struggling with her loss, Rachel decided to move from London to Edinburgh, where her parents lived, to build a new life. Money was not a problem – Stephen was wealthy from birth and his death produced a generous life insurance payout – but loneliness was.
Bob, Karen and Jake travelled to visit Rachel and Sam, but over time the trips because less frequent. As years passed, the relationship deteriorated to the point where only Christmas cards and a rare phone call were exchanged. Part of the problem was time and distance, but it did not help that, as Bob described it, Rachel was no longer capable of having a good time.
When Sam turned nineteen, he went away to university. Once Sam left, Rachel soon learned what real loneliness was all about. Her parents had passed away and with Sam gone, what little she had in life was gone. After several months of severe depression, Rachel decided to move back to London and start yet another new life.
Rachel stayed with Bob and Karen while she looked for a flat in London, and instantly rediscovered the kindness and generosity of her old friends. While the bubbly Rachel of fifteen years ago was replaced by a morose, rapidly aging woman, Rachel found that she could still talk to Karen about anything. Bob, she discovered, had turned into a wise, polite gentleman who never seemed to tire of hearing about Rachel’s problems. Within three months, Rachel had found a place to live and completed her move to London.
Rachel had never had a date in the years since Stephen had died. As time passed, Rachel realized that she was truly lonely, but she did not have a clue about finding a prospective partner. She looked at dating websites and even considered hiring an old-fashioned matchmaker, but she couldn’t go through with it.
She told all this to Karen one Monday at lunch.
“Karen, I am so fucking lonely. But, I just seem unable to do anything about it,” Rachel confided. “I have no courage.”
Karen, who had worked as a highly successful human resources executive for many years before recently taking early retirement, thought over Rachel’s situation as if it were a business problem. She then asked her friend a pointed question.
“Rachel, answer this question honestly. At this point in your life, are you looking for a life partner to stand in for Stephen? Or, do you really just want some male attention. More bluntly, do you just want to get laid?”
Rachel knew that her growing silence was damning. She did not want to admit it, but after ten years of celibacy, she wanted to be fucked. She spent endless nights fantasizing about various men, various sex acts and even various cock shapes. She knew exactly how her clitoris would react to every form of stimulation she could provide to herself, so much so that masturbation no longer provided any thrill. All of this flashed through her mind as she slowly attempted to fashion an answer to Karen’s question.
“Well,” Rachel said slowly, “Of course I want to have a partner someday. Who wouldn’t? I certainly do not want to grow old all alone. I will always have Sam, and I will always have friends, especially you and Bob. However, I hate to admit it … what I really need is some sex. But how do I get it? Am I final ready? It’s been such a long time. I have no confidence. No guy would want to be seen with an old hag like me.”
Karen quietly replied: “You aren’t an old hag; you are an attractive, sexy, mature woman, or at least you could be if you wanted to be. Listen, I built a pretty damn good career helping people solve personal challenges. Let me think about this and I’ll call you on Wednesday. I got some ideas …
As she was walking home from their lunch, Karen admitted that her friend was bordering on ‘old hag’ territory. When they two couples had met fifteen years earlier, Rachel was a real beauty; she had a lovely face, bordered by shoulder-length brown hair. She dressed stylishly, and some of her outfits were much more revealing than what Karen would have worn… and Karen was no prude. When the two couples went out to dinner, Karen used to kid Bob about whether Rachel’s tits would be on display that evening. And when they took the boys on a beach holiday, Karen wondered how Rachel had the nerve to wear such a tiny bikini, especially one that left a large portion of her shapely ass exposed.
At parties, Rachel loved to flirt; her hand was often touching a guy’s arm and sometimes his thigh during a conversation. The guys all liked Rachel’s goodnight kisses. Karen knew that Bob often stared at Rachel from afar and probably lusted after her, although this was never discussed. What Karen did not wish to admit was that she often wondered what it would be like to go to bed with a woman, especially if that woman was her best friend. She also wondered if Rachel ever cheated on Stephen.
Now, ten years later, nearly everything about Rachel screamed ‘old maid.’ Her hair had turned a dingy grey, and she wore it long and stringy as if she had not had a decent haircut in years. She dressed in oversized blouses and jumpers and wore wide-legged, elasticized-waist trousers. Hillary Clinton resembled a sex goddess compared with Rachel.
Yet, although it was impossible to tell by the way Rachel dressed, Karen wondered whether Rachel’s body had changed much with age. She had certainly remained slim, and one of the few things that Rachel still enjoyed was exercise. Underneath the most unflattering clothes imaginable, there was likely a body that most cougars would die for.
How could Karen make Rachel more confident? In business, Karen sometimes took a slow approach to a problem, carefully considering every step. However, she often had great success when she figuratively rolled the dice and just went for it.
By noon on Tuesday, Karen had a plan. She made many phone calls. Then she called her friend on Wednesday as promised.
“Rachel, what are you doing on Friday? Nothing? That’s great. I have come up with a plan. No, I want it to be a secret. Meet me at my house at ten o’clock, but expect to be busy all day.”
So, Rachel arrived at Karen’s at the precise time and was immediately whisked off to one of the most famous hairdressers in London. It took considerable time to re-colour Rachel’s hair, returning it to a light brown but with a touch of grey to make it look realistic. The stylist then worked from an old photo to recreate the hairstyle that Rachel had worn fifteen years earlier.
The pair stopped for a quick sandwich, then went to another upscale salon where Rachel got the works: manicure, pedicure and a cosmetic makeover, along with instructions on how to maintain the look. While she was still wearing a shapeless tunic and a pair of jeans that would flatter no one, Rachel looked at least fifteen years younger.
“Wow, even if I don’t look it, I feel like a million quid, “ Rachel told Karen with a beaming smile. “It’s been quite a day.”
“And, it’s not over yet,” Karen replied. “We have one more appointment, so let’s get a move on.”
Their last stop was at a photo studio in the West End. Rachel was at first baffled, but when she found out what it was all about, she was shocked, bordering on appalled.
“You are crazy. You want me to put on some lingerie and pose in front of some pervert who is going to leer at me while taking porno pictures that he will post on the internet? No fuckin’ way!”
“Settle down and trust me,” Karen demanded. “You will admit that you have no self-confidence. You think you are an old hag because you don’t try to be anything but an old hag. You are smart, funny and truly interesting, but you look like you are seventy five years old, not fifty five.
“Doug, the photographer, used to do work for my company, but he discovered he could make a lot more money shooting boudoir photography. He is a genius at making women look good, which is exactly what you need so that you have the confidence to find a man who might take an interest in you. I have known Doug for years, and I can promise you that he is as professional as they come. What in the hell do you have to lose? No one will see the photos except you and me unless you want them to.
Rachel thought for a moment. “If I were to do this, and I’m not saying I will, what would I wear. I did not come equipped for a glamour shooting today!”
Karen opened the large shoulder bag that she always carried and took out a Selfridges package. “I think I know your size, so I did a bit of shopping for you yesterday. Doug has stuff you can wear, but I used to think you were a classy broad so I bought you some classy stuff.”
Rachel opened the package. Inside was a short red silk chemise, size 12, along with a black La Perla bra, size 34C, matching knickers and a short silk robe. The knickers were not exactly a thong, but they would not cover a lot, either. There were also a pair of black hold-up stockings and a pair of black patent stiletto heels.
“Harrumph,” Rachel sighed. “They are certainly beautiful and they are what I may have worn years ago, but that’s not me anymore.”
“It’s your decision, but this is your chance to go back in time,” Karen said. “I know how much you loved Stephen, how much he meant to you and how terribly you still miss him. But, and I do not mean to be rude, he ain’t coming back. It’s been more than ten years. It’s now or probably never, in my humble opinion. Doug will be ready to begin taking photographs in 20 minutes. Will you be ready?
Rachel burst into tears. “I don’t know if I can do it. Everything you say is correct, but I have no confidence. Part of me died with Stephen. I know I cannot resurrect him, and I am not sure if I can resurrect that part of me.”
Karen thought for a moment … and then yanked her friend by the arm into the dressing room.
“Listen, you are going to do this if you want to remain friends with me. You are still looking for pity because you were widowed as such a young age, but the time for pity is over. Now do it!”
With that, Karen grabbed the tunic that Rachel was wearing and roughly pulled it off over her head. Underneath, Rachel was wearing an old, white industrial strength bra that looked as if it had been designed by a civil engineer, not a lingerie maker.
“Ugh! Listen up,” Karen said. Take off you clothes and put on the bra and knickers and the cover-up. You have five minutes, or else I am coming in and, damn it, I’ll take off the rest of your clothes. Then I will fix your makeup and brush out your hair. YOU ARE DOING THIS!”
Karen walked out and closed the door. Precisely five minutes later, Rachel emerged wearing the black robe.
“Okay, you bitch, I will try to do this,” Rachel growled. Then a smile emerged slightly as she added, “there’s not a whole lot to those knickers, are there? They’re a bit different from what I am used to wearing.”
Karen sat Rachel down in front of a lighted mirror and tried the best she could to repair the eye makeup that was smudged by Rachel’s crying. The rest of the cosmetician’s work was intact, but a new layer of red lippy was applied.
Doug smiled when Rachel and Karen entered the studio where the shoot would take place. He was used to working with nervous women posing in their underwear for the first time, but he knew from what Karen had told him that Rachel would be a true challenge. However, he was surprised when she determinedly opened the dressing gown and, showing off the scanty underwear, stockings and heels, asked him what she was supposed to do next.
Doug and Karen stared at Rachel and then turned to look at each other. Rachel not only looked good, she looked fabulous. She looked like a model, a mature one, but a model nevertheless. The push-up bra displayed firm beasts, and her stomach was flat and nearly wrinkle-free. Her ass was as rounded as it was fifteen years prior, with no sign of sagging.
Doug was used to working with aing, plain-looking women, helping them to believe they really were still beautiful. Rarely did he have a chance to photograph someone who looked as stunning as Rachel. However, he also knew that it was personality that made a boudoir photo shoot successful. He knew that a fat ugly girl with the right attitude would appear far sexier than a beautiful woman who was cold in front of a camera.
He guided Rachel to a simple set which included a comfy sofa to one side and a bed to the other. He suggested that they start on the sofa, and Rachel stiffly sat down. When he first started shooting, Rachel was indeed cold. She refused to smile and she posed robotically. After five minutes, Doug stopped.
“Listen, Rachel, I am not going to force you to do anything, but it wouldn’t hurt to smile a little. You are a gorgeous woman. How can I make you relax?”
Rachel didn’t answer. In fact, it was clear that she was even more tense.
Doug looked at Karen. His eyes told her that he did not have a clue about what to do.
Karen thought for a moment and then whispered in Doug’s ear. Doug looked surprised, but then said, “if you’re willing, we can give it a shot.”
Doug turned to Rachel and said, “Let’s have a fifteen minute break while Karen gets something. Would you like a coffee? Perhaps we should chat more and get to know each other a bit better.”
Doug quickly made two coffees from a Nespresso machine and handed one to Rachel. He sat on the sofa, a decent distance from the lingerie-clad Rachel, and they began talking about how Rachel had met Karen. After ten minutes or so, Rachel had relaxed a bit.
Then, as if out of nowhere, Karen reappeared. When Rachel looked up, she saw her best friend wearing the red silk chemise. It was a bit big for Karen, who was not as naturally blessed on top as Rachel. However, because it was a bit too large and, more of Karen’s not insignificant breasts were on show. As Karen was taller than Rachel, the chemise barely covered Karen’s ass and it was pretty clear she had nothing on underneath.
Rachel looked shocked when Doug rose and Karen took his place, sitting much closer. Rachel started to say something, but Karen stopped her by wrapping her arms around Rachel and forcefully kissing her best friend.
Rachel pulled away, but Karen continued her romantic assault so that she was now partially lying on top of Rachel, whose robe had parted. She continued pressing her lips against Rachel’s and, after a moment, Rachel tentatively began kissing her back. The kisses soon began passionate, and both women began using their tongues along with their lips.
After a couple of minutes of snogging, Karen started to caress her friend’s breasts and eventually freed one from the constraints of the bra. She lowered her mouth from Rachel’s lips to her nipple and began to suck gently. Rachel began to sigh thrusting her head back and partially spreading her legs.
And then Karen suddenly stopped.
She rose from the sofa and said quietly, “I guess there is some life in the old hag after all. I know you want a man, but I have wanted to do that for nearly twenty years. I wouldn’t mind doing it some more, but probably not in front of Doug. If you want some more from me, later, and if you ever want to attract a man, then I suggest that you begin posing like the sexy bisexual cougar that I think you can be.”
Rachel stretched out on the sofa, and looked at Doug, who began slowly snapping photos again. Seeing that her breast was exposed, she did not tuck it back into the bra as Karen would have expected, but instead started to finger her own nipple. As the session continued, Rachel got hotter and hotter and removed the wrap and then the bra altogether. After ten minutes, she shoved her right hand into her knickers and began breathing more heavily, all the while staring at the camera and occasionally smiling. Several minutes later, she removed the panties. She rolled over and, with one hand still fondling her clit, she sure that Doug got lots of pictures of her middle-aged but still shapely ass. Finally, after another ten minutes, Rachel had orgasmed in front of the camera.
“Well, that was different! Rachel, you are a born model. Those were some of the hottest Boudoir shots I have ever taken.” Then, clearly not knowing what to say, Doug stammered: “I can go to my office now and let you and Karen have some privacy.”
Rachel smiled, but Karen answered. “Thanks, Doug, but I think Rachel and I have a bit of talking today before we continue… even though I enjoyed that very much.
“When can we see the pictures?” Karen asked. And, even though she herself was wearing just a silk nightgown that did not fully cover her ass, she looked at Rachel and said with a broad grin: “Jesus, what a slut, lying there naked in front of a man you don’t know and dillying yourself in front of a camera. I am shocked!”
Rachel just smiled and contentedly said, “Karen, darling, could you please hand me my knickers?
However, when Sam was eight and Rachel was forty four, Stephen died of a sudden heart attack. Bob and Karen did everything that best friends can at a time of tragedy, but Rachel was inconsolable. After a year of struggling with her loss, Rachel decided to move from London to Edinburgh, where her parents lived, to build a new life. Money was not a problem – Stephen was wealthy from birth and his death produced a generous life insurance payout – but loneliness was.
Bob, Karen and Jake travelled to visit Rachel and Sam, but over time the trips because less frequent. As years passed, the relationship deteriorated to the point where only Christmas cards and a rare phone call were exchanged. Part of the problem was time and distance, but it did not help that, as Bob described it, Rachel was no longer capable of having a good time.
When Sam turned nineteen, he went away to university. Once Sam left, Rachel soon learned what real loneliness was all about. Her parents had passed away and with Sam gone, what little she had in life was gone. After several months of severe depression, Rachel decided to move back to London and start yet another new life.
Rachel stayed with Bob and Karen while she looked for a flat in London, and instantly rediscovered the kindness and generosity of her old friends. While the bubbly Rachel of fifteen years ago was replaced by a morose, rapidly aging woman, Rachel found that she could still talk to Karen about anything. Bob, she discovered, had turned into a wise, polite gentleman who never seemed to tire of hearing about Rachel’s problems. Within three months, Rachel had found a place to live and completed her move to London.
Rachel had never had a date in the years since Stephen had died. As time passed, Rachel realized that she was truly lonely, but she did not have a clue about finding a prospective partner. She looked at dating websites and even considered hiring an old-fashioned matchmaker, but she couldn’t go through with it.
She told all this to Karen one Monday at lunch.
“Karen, I am so fucking lonely. But, I just seem unable to do anything about it,” Rachel confided. “I have no courage.”
Karen, who had worked as a highly successful human resources executive for many years before recently taking early retirement, thought over Rachel’s situation as if it were a business problem. She then asked her friend a pointed question.
“Rachel, answer this question honestly. At this point in your life, are you looking for a life partner to stand in for Stephen? Or, do you really just want some male attention. More bluntly, do you just want to get laid?”
Rachel knew that her growing silence was damning. She did not want to admit it, but after ten years of celibacy, she wanted to be fucked. She spent endless nights fantasizing about various men, various sex acts and even various cock shapes. She knew exactly how her clitoris would react to every form of stimulation she could provide to herself, so much so that masturbation no longer provided any thrill. All of this flashed through her mind as she slowly attempted to fashion an answer to Karen’s question.
“Well,” Rachel said slowly, “Of course I want to have a partner someday. Who wouldn’t? I certainly do not want to grow old all alone. I will always have Sam, and I will always have friends, especially you and Bob. However, I hate to admit it … what I really need is some sex. But how do I get it? Am I final ready? It’s been such a long time. I have no confidence. No guy would want to be seen with an old hag like me.”
Karen quietly replied: “You aren’t an old hag; you are an attractive, sexy, mature woman, or at least you could be if you wanted to be. Listen, I built a pretty damn good career helping people solve personal challenges. Let me think about this and I’ll call you on Wednesday. I got some ideas …
As she was walking home from their lunch, Karen admitted that her friend was bordering on ‘old hag’ territory. When they two couples had met fifteen years earlier, Rachel was a real beauty; she had a lovely face, bordered by shoulder-length brown hair. She dressed stylishly, and some of her outfits were much more revealing than what Karen would have worn… and Karen was no prude. When the two couples went out to dinner, Karen used to kid Bob about whether Rachel’s tits would be on display that evening. And when they took the boys on a beach holiday, Karen wondered how Rachel had the nerve to wear such a tiny bikini, especially one that left a large portion of her shapely ass exposed.
At parties, Rachel loved to flirt; her hand was often touching a guy’s arm and sometimes his thigh during a conversation. The guys all liked Rachel’s goodnight kisses. Karen knew that Bob often stared at Rachel from afar and probably lusted after her, although this was never discussed. What Karen did not wish to admit was that she often wondered what it would be like to go to bed with a woman, especially if that woman was her best friend. She also wondered if Rachel ever cheated on Stephen.
Now, ten years later, nearly everything about Rachel screamed ‘old maid.’ Her hair had turned a dingy grey, and she wore it long and stringy as if she had not had a decent haircut in years. She dressed in oversized blouses and jumpers and wore wide-legged, elasticized-waist trousers. Hillary Clinton resembled a sex goddess compared with Rachel.
Yet, although it was impossible to tell by the way Rachel dressed, Karen wondered whether Rachel’s body had changed much with age. She had certainly remained slim, and one of the few things that Rachel still enjoyed was exercise. Underneath the most unflattering clothes imaginable, there was likely a body that most cougars would die for.
How could Karen make Rachel more confident? In business, Karen sometimes took a slow approach to a problem, carefully considering every step. However, she often had great success when she figuratively rolled the dice and just went for it.
By noon on Tuesday, Karen had a plan. She made many phone calls. Then she called her friend on Wednesday as promised.
“Rachel, what are you doing on Friday? Nothing? That’s great. I have come up with a plan. No, I want it to be a secret. Meet me at my house at ten o’clock, but expect to be busy all day.”
So, Rachel arrived at Karen’s at the precise time and was immediately whisked off to one of the most famous hairdressers in London. It took considerable time to re-colour Rachel’s hair, returning it to a light brown but with a touch of grey to make it look realistic. The stylist then worked from an old photo to recreate the hairstyle that Rachel had worn fifteen years earlier.
The pair stopped for a quick sandwich, then went to another upscale salon where Rachel got the works: manicure, pedicure and a cosmetic makeover, along with instructions on how to maintain the look. While she was still wearing a shapeless tunic and a pair of jeans that would flatter no one, Rachel looked at least fifteen years younger.
“Wow, even if I don’t look it, I feel like a million quid, “ Rachel told Karen with a beaming smile. “It’s been quite a day.”
“And, it’s not over yet,” Karen replied. “We have one more appointment, so let’s get a move on.”
Their last stop was at a photo studio in the West End. Rachel was at first baffled, but when she found out what it was all about, she was shocked, bordering on appalled.
“You are crazy. You want me to put on some lingerie and pose in front of some pervert who is going to leer at me while taking porno pictures that he will post on the internet? No fuckin’ way!”
“Settle down and trust me,” Karen demanded. “You will admit that you have no self-confidence. You think you are an old hag because you don’t try to be anything but an old hag. You are smart, funny and truly interesting, but you look like you are seventy five years old, not fifty five.
“Doug, the photographer, used to do work for my company, but he discovered he could make a lot more money shooting boudoir photography. He is a genius at making women look good, which is exactly what you need so that you have the confidence to find a man who might take an interest in you. I have known Doug for years, and I can promise you that he is as professional as they come. What in the hell do you have to lose? No one will see the photos except you and me unless you want them to.
Rachel thought for a moment. “If I were to do this, and I’m not saying I will, what would I wear. I did not come equipped for a glamour shooting today!”
Karen opened the large shoulder bag that she always carried and took out a Selfridges package. “I think I know your size, so I did a bit of shopping for you yesterday. Doug has stuff you can wear, but I used to think you were a classy broad so I bought you some classy stuff.”
Rachel opened the package. Inside was a short red silk chemise, size 12, along with a black La Perla bra, size 34C, matching knickers and a short silk robe. The knickers were not exactly a thong, but they would not cover a lot, either. There were also a pair of black hold-up stockings and a pair of black patent stiletto heels.
“Harrumph,” Rachel sighed. “They are certainly beautiful and they are what I may have worn years ago, but that’s not me anymore.”
“It’s your decision, but this is your chance to go back in time,” Karen said. “I know how much you loved Stephen, how much he meant to you and how terribly you still miss him. But, and I do not mean to be rude, he ain’t coming back. It’s been more than ten years. It’s now or probably never, in my humble opinion. Doug will be ready to begin taking photographs in 20 minutes. Will you be ready?
Rachel burst into tears. “I don’t know if I can do it. Everything you say is correct, but I have no confidence. Part of me died with Stephen. I know I cannot resurrect him, and I am not sure if I can resurrect that part of me.”
Karen thought for a moment … and then yanked her friend by the arm into the dressing room.
“Listen, you are going to do this if you want to remain friends with me. You are still looking for pity because you were widowed as such a young age, but the time for pity is over. Now do it!”
With that, Karen grabbed the tunic that Rachel was wearing and roughly pulled it off over her head. Underneath, Rachel was wearing an old, white industrial strength bra that looked as if it had been designed by a civil engineer, not a lingerie maker.
“Ugh! Listen up,” Karen said. Take off you clothes and put on the bra and knickers and the cover-up. You have five minutes, or else I am coming in and, damn it, I’ll take off the rest of your clothes. Then I will fix your makeup and brush out your hair. YOU ARE DOING THIS!”
Karen walked out and closed the door. Precisely five minutes later, Rachel emerged wearing the black robe.
“Okay, you bitch, I will try to do this,” Rachel growled. Then a smile emerged slightly as she added, “there’s not a whole lot to those knickers, are there? They’re a bit different from what I am used to wearing.”
Karen sat Rachel down in front of a lighted mirror and tried the best she could to repair the eye makeup that was smudged by Rachel’s crying. The rest of the cosmetician’s work was intact, but a new layer of red lippy was applied.
Doug smiled when Rachel and Karen entered the studio where the shoot would take place. He was used to working with nervous women posing in their underwear for the first time, but he knew from what Karen had told him that Rachel would be a true challenge. However, he was surprised when she determinedly opened the dressing gown and, showing off the scanty underwear, stockings and heels, asked him what she was supposed to do next.
Doug and Karen stared at Rachel and then turned to look at each other. Rachel not only looked good, she looked fabulous. She looked like a model, a mature one, but a model nevertheless. The push-up bra displayed firm beasts, and her stomach was flat and nearly wrinkle-free. Her ass was as rounded as it was fifteen years prior, with no sign of sagging.
Doug was used to working with aing, plain-looking women, helping them to believe they really were still beautiful. Rarely did he have a chance to photograph someone who looked as stunning as Rachel. However, he also knew that it was personality that made a boudoir photo shoot successful. He knew that a fat ugly girl with the right attitude would appear far sexier than a beautiful woman who was cold in front of a camera.
He guided Rachel to a simple set which included a comfy sofa to one side and a bed to the other. He suggested that they start on the sofa, and Rachel stiffly sat down. When he first started shooting, Rachel was indeed cold. She refused to smile and she posed robotically. After five minutes, Doug stopped.
“Listen, Rachel, I am not going to force you to do anything, but it wouldn’t hurt to smile a little. You are a gorgeous woman. How can I make you relax?”
Rachel didn’t answer. In fact, it was clear that she was even more tense.
Doug looked at Karen. His eyes told her that he did not have a clue about what to do.
Karen thought for a moment and then whispered in Doug’s ear. Doug looked surprised, but then said, “if you’re willing, we can give it a shot.”
Doug turned to Rachel and said, “Let’s have a fifteen minute break while Karen gets something. Would you like a coffee? Perhaps we should chat more and get to know each other a bit better.”
Doug quickly made two coffees from a Nespresso machine and handed one to Rachel. He sat on the sofa, a decent distance from the lingerie-clad Rachel, and they began talking about how Rachel had met Karen. After ten minutes or so, Rachel had relaxed a bit.
Then, as if out of nowhere, Karen reappeared. When Rachel looked up, she saw her best friend wearing the red silk chemise. It was a bit big for Karen, who was not as naturally blessed on top as Rachel. However, because it was a bit too large and, more of Karen’s not insignificant breasts were on show. As Karen was taller than Rachel, the chemise barely covered Karen’s ass and it was pretty clear she had nothing on underneath.
Rachel looked shocked when Doug rose and Karen took his place, sitting much closer. Rachel started to say something, but Karen stopped her by wrapping her arms around Rachel and forcefully kissing her best friend.
Rachel pulled away, but Karen continued her romantic assault so that she was now partially lying on top of Rachel, whose robe had parted. She continued pressing her lips against Rachel’s and, after a moment, Rachel tentatively began kissing her back. The kisses soon began passionate, and both women began using their tongues along with their lips.
After a couple of minutes of snogging, Karen started to caress her friend’s breasts and eventually freed one from the constraints of the bra. She lowered her mouth from Rachel’s lips to her nipple and began to suck gently. Rachel began to sigh thrusting her head back and partially spreading her legs.
And then Karen suddenly stopped.
She rose from the sofa and said quietly, “I guess there is some life in the old hag after all. I know you want a man, but I have wanted to do that for nearly twenty years. I wouldn’t mind doing it some more, but probably not in front of Doug. If you want some more from me, later, and if you ever want to attract a man, then I suggest that you begin posing like the sexy bisexual cougar that I think you can be.”
Rachel stretched out on the sofa, and looked at Doug, who began slowly snapping photos again. Seeing that her breast was exposed, she did not tuck it back into the bra as Karen would have expected, but instead started to finger her own nipple. As the session continued, Rachel got hotter and hotter and removed the wrap and then the bra altogether. After ten minutes, she shoved her right hand into her knickers and began breathing more heavily, all the while staring at the camera and occasionally smiling. Several minutes later, she removed the panties. She rolled over and, with one hand still fondling her clit, she sure that Doug got lots of pictures of her middle-aged but still shapely ass. Finally, after another ten minutes, Rachel had orgasmed in front of the camera.
“Well, that was different! Rachel, you are a born model. Those were some of the hottest Boudoir shots I have ever taken.” Then, clearly not knowing what to say, Doug stammered: “I can go to my office now and let you and Karen have some privacy.”
Rachel smiled, but Karen answered. “Thanks, Doug, but I think Rachel and I have a bit of talking today before we continue… even though I enjoyed that very much.
“When can we see the pictures?” Karen asked. And, even though she herself was wearing just a silk nightgown that did not fully cover her ass, she looked at Rachel and said with a broad grin: “Jesus, what a slut, lying there naked in front of a man you don’t know and dillying yourself in front of a camera. I am shocked!”
Rachel just smiled and contentedly said, “Karen, darling, could you please hand me my knickers?
Kaylin
- 21.08.2022
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- Category:
- Mature
A Widow Rediscovers What Life Is All About Part 3
- 3 years ago
- 10
- 0
A Widow Rediscovers What Life Is All About Part 2
- 3 years ago
- 10
- 0
