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Cathy Turnbull wanted a job to earn a little extra spending money. Her husband, Dennis, had a good job, and now that their mortgage was paid up and their daughter, Sarah, was married, they had fewer overheads and more income available for their personal use. However, Cathy also had time on her hands and wanted to do something useful with it. She saw an advert in her local newspaper, asking for people who wanted to help the elderly with their housekeeping and getting shopping and so on, as well as providing a bit of company to people who lived alone and couldn't get out much any more. Cathy's own father had passed away some years previously and her mother had moved away, so it seemed like the perfect opportunity to do something worthwhile with her time.

She therefore contacted the agency that placed the ad and within a few days of sending them a written application, she was invited to go along for an interview. She was taken on and spent the first two weeks shadowing another woman, to make sure that she understood what the job involved, and then she was assigned her own client. It had been agreed that just one person, a few hours a day and for five or more days every week, was enough of a commitment if Cathy only wanted to work part-time. His name was William Wilkins and Cathy had already gotten to know him a little during her induction fortnight, so she was quite looking forward to her first day of working on her own. Her husband was very supportive, as usual, and they had discussed 'Mr Wilkins' in depth.

" ... Apparently he was born just before the Second World War started, so he's only a few years older than my mum and dad. And it says here that he has a few medical problems that restrict mobility and he's single, not a widower. He always seemed very polite when I met him, too, so I think we'll get on all right!"

Cathy parked her car in front of the small house where Mr Wilkins lived. By now she was naturally a little apprehensive, but overall, relaxed, as she rang the doorbell. It was not unusual for domestic helpers to be trusted with one of their clients' door keys, in cases of impaired mobility, but as yet she had not been given one. After only a few minutes, William Wilkins answered the door.

"Hello again, Mrs Turnbull. Please come in!"

"Thank you, Mr Wilkins: and please call me Cathy. May I call you William, or do you prefer to keep it formal?"

"No, not in the least, Cathy ... but I prefer 'Bill' to 'William'. May I offer you a cup of tea?"

"Yes, please, Bill, but I'll follow you so that I can see where you keep things."

Cathy noticed that Bill was dressed quite casually, but that he was clean shaven. And as she followed him to his kitchen, he appeared to be walking quite normally, if a little slowly. The kitchen was compact, but also clean and tidy: he was expecting her, so cups and saucers were standing, waiting.

"Your file says that you suffer from arthritis, Bill: how is it at the moment?"

"Oh, not so bad at the moment, thank you! It tends to be worse in cold and damp weather, so on days like this it's much better. When it's bad my knees and hips are the worst; but I also get a touch in my wrists as well. My mother was a chronic sufferer, so perhaps there's a family predisposition: I just hope that I don't eventually get it as bad as her, but the medication that they prescribe now helps a lot."

He had no trouble carrying the tray with the tea and biscuits back to his sitting room, where Cathy sat on the sofa, while Bill had his favourite armchair.

"As you may know, Bill, I'm here today to find out how best I can help you. I'm not sure all that Peggy Armitage did while she was here, as I only made a couple of brief visits with her before, but in theory I can do anything you want and you know that you only have to ask. Getting you a bit of shopping is no problem, but I have my car, so if you feel like a run out to the shops at any time, we can do that, too. And I'm not a bad cook, so if you want, I'll be happy to oblige, as well as doing a bit of housework for you, but from the looks of it, you aren't doing such a bad job yourself. Tell me, Bill, do you have family and friends who look in on you?"

"Not really family: my parents are long gone, of course. I have a younger brother, Michael, but I haven't seen him for several years; although we speak on the telephone several times a month. He has a wife, children, grandchildren, and possibly even great-grand­children, but they are all scattered throughout the world and my brother lives in the North-East. I still have a few acquaintances from when I worked, but as I have no car, I only really see them when they can make it to me, which again is fairly infrequently.

"As you may know, Cathy, I never married. I'm not anti the institution, but it just never happened for me ... and to be honest, I don't think that there's ever been a time that I regretted it. When I was working I took regular holidays, both here and abroad, and I have never been bored with my own company, or been at a loss with what to do with my time. Mrs Armitage only started coming here a few months ago and although she was pleasant enough company, a few hours at a time was enough for me! You also seem a very pleasant person, Cathy, and I'm sure that I will enjoy your company equally as well, but I'm afraid that you might find me a bit set in my ways..."

"That's fine by me, Bill! As I said, I'm here to help you in any way that I can, and not to impose upon your life any more than you want me too."

Over the next few weeks, and despite what Bill had said, Cathy found him to be a very warm, charming, and hospitable man. While she was upstairs doing little household jobs, he invariably sat at the dining table downstairs, reading his newspapers; but when Cathy was pottering around downstairs, they usually chatted while she went about her business. But there was also time for them to both sit and relax and at such times Cathy told him about her life and family; and in return Bill talked about his former career in the Civil Service, which now provided him with a very generous pension, so that he could live comfortably without money concerns. He was also very well read and it seemed to Cathy that there wasn't much that he didn't know something about.

There were days, too, when they went to the local supermarket in Cathy's car, which he enjoyed very much; and although it was well outside of her professional obligation, with Dennis' approval, Bill was invited round for Sunday lunch. Cathy's husband, Dennis, was a very straight-forward, working-class man, but he, too, took an instant liking to Bill.

While Cathy was at Bill's, having a tea break one day, the subject of marriage came up in the conversation. It was one of the few things that he had never experienced, first hand, so he was reluctant to offer any opinions, as was his way. However, he was always open to discussions about most things, so they continued to talk.

"I hope you don't mind me asking you this, Bill, but sex has always been an important part of my marriage, even after nearly thirty years, so it's difficult for me to imagine living without it, now! Have you ever been in a relationship with another person: after all, you are an attractive man and not being married doesn't necessar­ily mean living a sexless life." Bill looked at her and smiled, wryly.

" ... I'm afraid that in my case it does! When I was younger people were promiscuous, of course; but there didn't seem to be the same sort of pressures to have sex that young people today face. And of course people had sexual relationships outside of marriage, they had extra-marital affairs, and young unmarried women had illegitimate children; but there were also a lot of people who waited until their wedding night. I was also in a profession that empha­sised good character and high standards of moral behaviour, and to be involved in a sexual liaison would have jeopardised that if one was caught. So as I never married, I abstained ... and the longer that I abstained, the least important any libidinous feelings became.

"I believe that I know you well enough, Cathy, to confess to you that I occasionally indulged in self-relief whenever I felt that it was necessary; but even that, too, becomes less of a necessity as time passes. And there is that aphorism: that what you've never had, you never miss. Well, I can assure you that that's true, but only up to a certain point ... I consider myself to be an inquisitive and open-minded man, so of course I've considered what it must be like ... but I have never allowed it to become an obsession."

Cathy was intrigued, so she perhaps pushed the subject further than she would have with someone that she knew less well, or who she liked less:

"I believe my husband when he says that I'm still an attractive and desirable woman, Bill ... out of curiosity, is that how I appear to you as well?" For a normally quite decisive man, he seemed to take a long time considering his answer:

" ... Yes, Cathy ... I find you to be an attractive and desirable woman: and as the popular cliché goes; I perhaps find myself wishing that I was thirty years younger..."

That evening, as they lay in bed, having enjoyed each other sexually, Cathy and Dennis talked about what Bill had said earlier.

"Do you think that there are many people like Bill, Love?" Cathy asked Dennis, "Although he never said it in so many words, I don't think that he's ever been with a woman."

"It's hard to say. Although he's right, and kids do seem to get pushed into sex earlier nowadays; I think that there are still people who abstain, as he calls it, for religious and other cultural reasons; but I think for Bill's generation it was commoner than ours. We were, what, fifteen and sixteen when we first slept together, and I know that I was almost desperate to do it with someone at that age ... I was just lucky that it was you, Cath! But there were a couple of elderly aunts in the family when I was that age who weren't married and I think we always assumed that they were virgins ... whether that was true or not, I don't know!" Cathy was thoughtful.

" ... Den, do you remember when we broke up for a while when we were still kids?"

"Of course ... I'll never forget that! Why do you ask?"

" ... Well ... and don't go getting all upset ... but would you mind if I started flirting with Bill a bit! He's such a nice man, and a real gentleman, I'd just like him to experience it for himself!"

"When you say 'flirting a bit', what exactly do you mean?" Dennis asked her. Cathy hugged him closer.

" ... Hmm ... I don't really know! Maybe being a bit more provocative with what I wear: you know; shorter skirts and tighter tops, that sort of thing; and maybe being a bit more 'touchy-feely' with him. I won't sneak around and do anything behind your back, and we'll always talk about it like we're doing now, Love..."

" ... And are we talking sex, Cath..."

" ... Again, I honestly don't know, Love ... he's in his seventies, and with his arthritis, I don't know if he'd be up to it; and, anyway, if it's going to bother you, it stays here and goes no further. I'm not looking for a lover, Babe: just a way to make a sweet old man's twilight years a bit better!"

" ... Okay!" Dennis said, "But we have to agree a couple of things first: please be careful that you're doing this for Bill and not just for you! I know you only have the best of intentions, Cath, but sometimes it's best to let sleeping dogs lie; if you know what I mean! The other thing is: if you do end up in bed together, I think that I'd rather not know the details, if you don't mind. I know what we have is strong; but I honestly don't know how I'll handle you being with someone else in that way. And once you start this, it's not something that you can undo easily!" Cathy snuggled up even closer and kissed her husband passion­ately.

"I really do love you, Babe, and I don't want to hurt you again, so if it gets too uncomfortable for you, just tell me, please!"

So from then on, Cathy Turnbull never did anything other than what she had been doing before, apparently, but instead of wearing jeans every time that she went to Bill's, she also started wearing skirts that were a little shorter than she usually wore and which showed off her legs which she tended to leave uncovered, too. She had been issued with a type of apron that fitted over her head, tied at the sides, and finished just below the tops of her thighs, front and back. This was obviously intended to act as a kind of uniform and to be a form of protection for her clothes; but the design also softened the lines of the wearer's bottom and a woman's breasts. It wasn't mandatory to wear it, but Cathy usually did. However, she now started leaving it off at Bill's, and apart from emphasising her shapely bottom, she wore fairly close-fitting tops that highlighted her full bust. If Bill noticed, he was too polite to comment; but Cathy was sure that she saw him looking at her a bit more than he had been doing up until then.

They had also found out, during the course of their informal chats, that Cathy and Bill were both fans of musical theatre. Bill, having worked in Central London for all of his long career, had seen most of the shows in the West End going back decades, and he had many stories to tell Cathy about his memories of them. Since his retirement and the onset of his infirmity, however, he had had to stop going as often as he once did and a trip to the theatre was now also an infrequent event. He did, however, have a large collection of recordings of the shows and sometimes he put one of these on while Cathy was there and they would sit and listen to it together. And so it happened that one day she went to Bill's, as usual, and while they were having tea, she said:

"I don't know if you're interested, Bill, but Dennis was given two tickets to see Les Misérables, but he can't go. As you know, it's one of my favourites, although I've only seen it on TV, so he asked me to ask you if you wanted to go with me. It's for next Wednesday, so you can have time to think about it, and then if you want to go, we'll work out the details." Bill wasn't what you would call 'hasty', but this was something that required little consideration.

" ... Well, I have seen it before, but not for some years now; so, yes, I'd love to go with you, Cathy!" She leaned in and put her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek.

"Thank you so much, Bill!" she exclaimed, "I'm really looking forward to it!" Bill looked a little flustered by her reaction, but he smiled, nevertheless.

That Sunday he was invited round to Dennis and Cathy's for lunch again, and afterwards they were all in the sitting room: Cathy and Dennis on the sofa, holding hands, and Bill in an armchair.

"I'm sorry that you're unable to take Cathy to the theatre, Dennis, it's a great show!"

"So I believe, Bill, but to tell you the truth, I'm not sure how much I would have enjoyed it ... musicals are Cathy's thing, not mine; but I have to work that night, anyway. Which brings me onto something else, Bill. Do you think that it would be possible for Cath to stay at your place that night: she'll be there anyway during the day, so rather than come home and then go back to yours later, she can take her things with her and change; and if she came home afterwards, it would only be to an empty house." Cathy didn't know that her husband was going to say this, but she smiled and gripped his hand a little tighter.

"Yes, I suppose that would be all right," Bill replied, "But we'll have to sort something out about the sleeping arrangements; my spare room isn't really set up for overnight guests at the moment..."

"Oh, don't go to any trouble, Bill!" Dennis said, "You are both adults and it's only for one night ... and I know that you're a gentleman, Bill, and Cathy has my complete trust!"

" ... Well ... erm ... as long as you don't object, Dennis..."

" ... That's all right with you, isn't it, Love?" Dennis said. Cathy looked lovingly into her husband's eyes and smiled.

" ... Just as long as you're fine with it, Babe..."

Monday and Tuesday were just like other days: neither Bill nor Cathy really talked about Wednesday, except that Bill said that he would pay for the taxis between his North London home and the Haymarket, and then back. Unfortunately, at three hours, the production was too long to realistically have supper somewhere afterwards, so they agreed to eat before they left.

Cathy arrived at Bill's on Wednesday carrying her dress for the evening on a hanger and her other clothes and overnight things in a small case. She took these straight up to Bill's bedroom. It was very strange for Cathy to think that in a few hours time that she would be, for the first time in over thirty years, sharing a bed with a man who wasn't her husband, and with her husband's consent. Oh, how she loved him at that moment! She had no prior conception about what would happen in that bed ... perhaps nothing ... but there was still a deep sense of excitement at the thought!

It was perhaps even stranger for Bill: the last female that he had shared a bed with was his mother; and as he was a baby at the time, he had no recollection of it at all. But he thought about the woman who he now considered, even after knowing her for such a short time, to be a friend. He was attracted to her personality, and as he had admitted, he could admire her femininity; but sexual attraction was new to him, and being the product of a proper upbringing and always having had an utmost respect for women in general, he wasn't sure if such a thing was allowed in Cathy's case. He had begun to wonder, though, what those curves that were concealed beneath her clothes might actually look like without their concealment ... and as he lay in bed some nights and his thoughts strayed to her, he found himself having the great desire to touch his manhood.

Because the theatre curtain rose at 7:30, Cathy and Bill found themselves sitting down to eat at the early time of 4:30. Cathy was a person who usually enjoyed a long soak in the bath, but as Bill also had to bathe, they both took showers. Bill went first, and while he was in the bathroom, Cathy undressed and when Bill returned to his bedroom with a towel around his waist, he found Cathy waiting, dressed only in her underwear.

"Oh ... I'm so sorry!" he blustered when he saw her.

"Don't be silly, Bill: we are friends, aren't we, and I was brought up to not be either ashamed or embarrassed about my body. I appreciate that it might be strange for you, but it's really nothing, I assure you! Here, let me take the rest off while I'm here..."

It took her only a few moments to release her bra's fastening and shrug it off her shoulders; followed moments later by her knickers being discarded. She stood in front of Bill and turned slowly around. Bill's eyes moved over all of her body but he didn't speak.

"Why don't you take that towel off now, Bill?"

He hesitated for a moment or two, then tugged at the corner that was tucked into the towel at the waistline. Bill was quite tall and lean, but surprisingly taut-skinned for a man of his age. It was Cathy's turn to look him over, and of course she checked-out his groin: her Dennis was probably bigger overall, she noted, but Bill seemed to have a nice-sized penis sticking out from between its surrounding silver-grey hair.

"There you go, Bill ... it wasn't so bad, was it! Now you finish dressing and I'll have my shower!" She leaned in and quickly kissed his cheek.

Bill was very fastidious about his appearance when he had to be, and when Cathy returned a short time later, he was sitting on the side of the bed applying the finishing touches to his highly-polished shoes. Cathy was naked and towelling her hair dry. Bill looked up and focussed first on her 34D-size breasts, but he seemed most intrigued by her hairless groin. He was by no means naïve, but in his limited experience adult women always had hair in that place, the same as he did. Cathy finished drying her hair and smiled.

"We don't have time now, Love, but I'll explain all about the female form later, if you'd like me to."

"Yes ... if you wouldn't mind, Cathy..."

Taking a jar of moisturiser out of her case, Cathy started to rub it into her skin. Bill offered to wait downstairs, but she told him to stay. He tried to seem dispassionate but he was genuinely interested in what she was doing and it would have been disingenuous to pretend otherwise. He had seen more female flesh in the last hour than in the past seven decades!

Her skin now moisturised and soft, Cathy took a pair of sheer, black, self-supporting stockings and sat on the bed and worked them up her silky legs. A pair of black bikini briefs were next, and finally a black, lace bra. Bill had no need for a dressing table, so Cathy sat in front of a full-length dressing mirror while she applied subtle make-up to her lips and eyelids. Another time she would have applied coloured varnish to her finger and toe nails, but on this occasion she just dressed her finger nails with an emery board.

"Did you order the taxi, Bill?"

"Yes, while you were showering: I asked for one for six-thirty, which should give us plenty of time: when I was working I occasionally took taxis in the morning."

While she was sitting, Cathy put on a pair of nice shoes with a moderate size heel, then, standing up, she took her favourite cocktail dress off of its hanger and stepped into it. "Will you do the honours, Love," she said, turning her back to Bill. He briefly admired the smooth swell of her contours from the back, then tugged on the zip until it was all the way up. Cathy looked at herself in the mirror.

"That's it ... transformation complete ... how do I look, Bill?"

"You look very beautiful, Cathy!" She smiled.

" ... And flattery will get you everywhere! I'll just get my shawl, then we can go down and wait for the taxi." Bill slipped on his suit jacket. " ... And may I say that you are looking very handsome tonight, Mr Wilkins!"

The black cab arrived more or less on time and Bill held the door open while Cathy climbed in. They sat close together on the back seat and Cathy held Bill's hand.

"Oh, it was even better than I imagined it would be!" Cathy exclaimed as they climbed into the taxi that would take them back to Bill's house. They had both been caught up in the energy and exhilaration of the show and the adrenalin was still pumping around their bodies. Bill, in particular, whose life now was otherwise very sedate, felt younger than he had in years: and he was in no doubt that that was due to the influence of the attractive middle-aged lady that sat beside him in the cab and clutched his arm against her side and ample bosom. They chatted about what they had just seen: Bill said that it was every bit as good as he remembered it being with the original cast; perhaps even better! They had had a couple of glasses of wine during the interval, but the adrenalin had by now counteracted the effects of the alcohol.

When the taxi stopped outside his house, Bill paid the driver and added a generous tip. They went inside and straight up to the bedroom to change.

"What time do you usually go to bed, Bill?"

"Well, no set time, just when I get tired; but I don't mind if you want to go to bed now."

" ... Hmm ... might as well when I've had a pee and cleaned my teeth. Which side of the bed do you prefer?"

"No preference, but I suppose the left. Is that all right with you?"

"Yes, no problem!"

"Then I'll just get into my pyjamas before I use the bathroom..."

"Why don't you leave them off tonight, Bill: Just leave your shorts on until you're ready to get into bed ... I'm sure that it will be warm enough with two of us in there!"

" ... Perhaps you're right..."

Cathy didn't even ask this time; she just turned away from Bill and he unzipped her dress. She slid it off, stepped out of it, then put it back onto its hanger. Bill meanwhile was hanging up his suit, which he returned to the wardrobe where it was kept. As he took off his tie, then his shirt, Cathy sat on the bed and took off her stockings. She rarely wore anything in bed and as Bill had already seen her naked she just took off her underwear and put it in the case. Bill stood in his underpants waiting for her.

"Do you want to take turns?" he asked, as she used paper tissues to get the bulk of her make-up off.

"Not unless you do, Love ... I've seen men pee before!"

Bill stood in front of his bathroom mirror, brushing his teeth. He looked straight ahead, but he flushed a little at the unmistakable sounds coming from a few feet away, as Cathy sat on the toilet. Cathy smiled to herself when their roles were reversed, and Bill seemed unable to pass water while she was there. She diplomatically rinsed and spat, then left him alone in the bathroom.

When Bill walked into the room that was usually his alone, Cathy was on top of the covers, sitting up, with her back supported by pillows.

"It's time for the lesson I promised you, Bill ... if you're still up for it!" She laughed, softly, " ... Sorry, no pun intended!" Bill smiled.

"Yes, I'm ready..."

She leaned forward and patted the bed. When Bill was sitting and turned towards her, Cathy drew up her legs and allowed her thighs to fall apart.

"Get closer and take a good look, Bill, Love. This is what all the fuss is about..."

He wasn't at all aroused by Cathy's vulva inches from his face, but Bill, as stated, was intensely curious.

"I've seen diagrams in books, but the real thing is very different, isn't it," he said. Cathy pulled her labia apart to give him an even better look.

"Yes, I expect most adolescent boys nowadays have seen quite explicit videos by the time that they get to see a real one up close, so there is no mystery; but I'm sure men and boys of our generation had no idea, Bill; and even when they were married they might not have seen one up close. How many little boys and girls grew up thinking that it was all a bit dirty? It was all right for a man to put his penis into a vagina, but he didn't need to see where he was putting it; and all that pubic hair didn't help either! Do you want to touch me, Bill?"

" ... If you don't mind ... but tell me if I'm hurting you." Cathy smiled.

"You're very sweet, but they're designed to take quite a lot of ... what shall we say ... action. It's a sensitive place and a woman can get sore, but they are quite resilient. So go on, have a feel."

He reached out and tentatively touched Cathy's vulva with his fingertips.

" ... Well, it's much softer than I imagined; and there's a lot of give in it, too, isn't there."

"Yes, that's because men come in all different shapes and sizes, so it has to be able to adapt to suit them. If you don't mind me saying, Bill, you look like you have a nice size penis ... I usually call them cocks, by the way ... but of course there are bigger ones and smaller ones as well. And don't forget that some women have to get babies out of there, too; and afterwards they have to close right up again.

"So if you've seen diagrams, Bill, you know what the parts are called and probably what they're for, so now I want you to stick a finger inside me. Up until the menopause, a women produces a vaginal lubricant when she starts to become aroused, so as long as that happens, a finger or two inside won't hurt; and as you can probably see, I'm already a bit moist. Can you see it on my lips?"

Bill thought that he detected something, but just before he pushed his finger into Cathy's vagina, he put his finger into his mouth. Then, still quite cautiously, he worked the tip of his index finger into her opening, then slowly pushed deeper. Feeling no resistance, he kept pushing until it was right up to the bottom knuckle.

" ... It's very hard to describe. It's quite warm and wet and slippery: I suppose the nearest equivalent I can think of is putting a finger in your mouth."

" ... Yes, and I think that's why men like oral sex! But just keep your finger there for a while, Bill; but don't move it around."

Cathy contracted her internal muscles and Bill felt something that seemed to be gripping his finger.

" ... That surprises a lot of men! And it's something that a mouth can't do as well: but the anus is supposed to. I don't like anal sex, but I know a lot of women ... and men ... say that they do.

"Now try two fingers, Bill, and move them around inside me, please." Bill duly obliged and Cathy was soon feeling the effects of his two fingers rubbing against her vaginal canal.

" ... Yes, it's nice; but I think that you ought to stop for a minute, Love...

"I think we need to get some sleep soon, but there are a couple more things that I'd like to show you before then. You've heard me mention oral sex: well, that's just the way for someone to stimulate a woman or a man by using their mouth: their lips and tongue; rather than fingers or even sex toys. And for both types of oral sex, it really makes no difference if males or females do it. So how do feel about doing it to me now?"

" ... Well, this is a night for new discoveries, isn't it! I don't suppose that it is something that I will ever do again after tonight ... so if you are agreeable, Cathy, I'd like to have a go." She smiled warmly.