Sex After Sixty I

By Anonymous

Ellen was well into her sixties. Good looking, well groomed, tall and slim, she was a constant reminder of how beautiful she must have been as a younger woman. She had been an investment banker until her husband had been diagnosed with late stage lung cancer. Ellen resigned her position to become his constant caregiver. He died a long, agonizing death. His illness had exhausted her physically and emotionally and, by the time he succumbed, she had done almost all of her grieving and was ready to get on with her life.

She and her husband had lived in the Northeast and they had bought a vacation home in Florida where they spent too little time. She did not want to go back to work and had no need to do so financially. Her kids and grandkids were scattered all over the world and had useful, productive lives. She saw them as much as time and schedules permitted but they did not form an integral part of her life. She felt a void that friends, travel or busywork not could fill.

She had enjoyed Florida when they had spent more time there during her husband’s illness. She was a good athlete and was a better than average golfer. She had a good mind and was a better than average bridge player. Now she had time. Her country club community was replete with activities. Ellen decided to move there permanently. She wanted to start again.

Her life with her husband had been relatively conventional. They courted in the fifties and married in the early sixties. They missed the wild times of the flower children and were building their family, home and professional life when the next generation was experiencing pot, the Beatles and the sexual revolution. Sex had been satisfying but not inventive. As they aged together Ellen and her husband had settled into a comfortable companionship. Sex was infrequent but they still felt the intimacy and friendship of years of living together. Ellen had no desire to stray and was ready to believe that her husband had been faithful during their long marriage.

And now Ellen was single. She attracted a large number of friends and acquaintances in Florida. She was appalled by the aggressiveness of single women, whether widowed or divorced, for the attention of unattractive men. The club held singles events regularly. After a few attempts to join in, Ellen resolved that these events were not for her. She was not in the game and chose not to participate. She had no thoughts of dating. She had enough to do. She did not crave the companionship of a man.

She was fascinated by observing the sexual games that were played by people her age. Women dressed as if they were twenty years younger and produced an effect that was more bizarre than sexy. Men tried to hide ever-expanding middles under clothes that might have been more fashionable when they were working. Most women were interested in men as an economic vehicle that would ferry them into comfortable old age. If sex were part of the bargain it was to be tolerated in the hope that time and age would take its toll on their man’s libido. Most men had fantasies of Viagra-enhanced sex without either emotional or financial entanglement.

Ellen’s take on sex was wholly impartial. It had been some years since she had had sex with her husband. During his illness she had lost her desire. She was of a generation that considered self-fulfillment as unladylike. She did not openly discuss sex with her children when they were growing up and certainly did not discuss sex with them at this stage of her life. Some of her friends had alluded to their vibrator “friend” but she was neither curious nor experimental. It was simply not a part of her life now. Even when she saw explicit sexual content at movies or read about them in books her reaction was passive. Although friendly and outgoing, Ellen was not touchy and practically never feely with her social relationships. At times she wondered what would happen if she “met someone” and sex was part of the future relationship. She put it out of her mind as something she would deal with if and when that ever happened.

She had entered a golf tournament and was good enough to have made the A-flight. It was a mixed tournament and most of the players were paired either with spouses or friends of the opposite sex. The pro had encouraged Ellen to enter and assured her she would be paired with a good, male golfer. She was totally unprepared for Phil.

Phil was a new member of the club. Recently widowed and recently retired he had moved to Florida as a refuge against friends and family that had made it their life’s work to see him remarried. He had kept himself in good physical and mental shape and his appearance belied his seventy years of age. And he had taken time out of his life to earn and maintain a low handicap at golf.

They were introduced to each other by the golf pro. Phil was immediately taken by Ellen’s good looks and open manner. Ellen was immediately taken by Phil’s drives that seemed to be launched into outer space only to fall into the fairway well over 200 yards away. They chatted on safe subjects but each had the feeling that the other was being observed on a number of unspoken levels. The game progressed and it was becoming apparent that the Phil-Ellen team was doing exceptionally well both on and off the golf course. They won and were put at the same table for the post-tournament dinner. After the awards were given out Phil offered to drive Ellen home but she had brought her own car and they parted with a promise to play together again.

Ellen thought little about Phil over the next few days. She had met a large number of attractive men over her professional career. She had rarely, if ever, thought of these men in sexual terms and her recent experience with Phil was no different. Yes, he was attractive. Yes, he was a damned good golfer. But Ellen was not curious beyond that. Until the phone rang. It was Phil. It was an invitation to play golf and then go to dinner with some of his friends. Ellen said yes before being aware that she had done so with more enthusiasm than she had intended.

The golf was uneventful. Each played competently but with a slight competitiveness that kept the game on edge and the fun level high. Ellen found herself laughing and enjoying herself. She was aware, on another level, of how easy it was to be with Phil. There was no pressure. No forced conversation. They endured long silences comfortably. Ellen showered at the club and found herself putting on her makeup more carefully than she wanted to admit. She wore a pantsuit that showed off her height and her slim figure to good advantage. She found Phil in the bar. Well dressed and impeccably groomed, he greeted her with an enthusiasm that both of them could not ignore. They joined his friends at dinner. Phil was obviously admired and cherished by his friends and Ellen was immediately included in the conversation. The dinner ended early and Phil drove Ellen to her apartment.

Ellen, always composed, thanked Phil for a wonderful afternoon and evening. Phil, in turn, seemed to have no hidden agenda and promised to call again soon. Ellen was astounded to hear herself invite Phil in for some coffee. Phil was equally astounded to hear himself accept.

Once inside, Phil could only admire Ellen’s apartment. Tastefully decorated it had a lived-in, look and Ellen looked properly placed in the space. The décor was not so personal that Phil did not feel like an intruder. She made coffee and Phil declined a drink and a sweet. And they began to talk. Ellen was, by nature, a private person. But the golf and the evening and Phil had unlocked a reservoir of emotion that Ellen had forgotten that she had. She spoke of the last years of her husband’s illness, her marriage, her family and her life. He spoke of his business and his wife’s death and his family. While the conversation was not intimate, each had spoken of things that had been left unspoken for some time. When they next looked at the time it was well into the night. Phil left but not after leaving Ellen with a lingering kiss of the cheek that could have been a promise of much more. Ellen did not resist.

The next morning Ellen slept late. She could not ignore the events of the previous night and thought about whether this was going to lead to a stronger relationship. It was then that she thought about sex. She was totally unused to current sexual attitudes but she was smart enough to know what they were. She had friends that treated sex as a reward for a particularly good dinner. No one talked about feelings or experiences. Sex appeared to be an objective thing rather than an emotional involvement. Even though Ellen had not had an inventive sexual life, sex with her husband had been satisfying enough. If things progressed with Phil what would he expect?

Ellen decided to see if she was still sexually capable. Intellectually, she knew all about masturbation. She had engaged in self-love rarely but was not a total stranger to the practice. She started by caressing her breasts and her nipples. She was pleasantly surprised by shock that her touch caused her to feel in her vagina. Her nipples hardened and she thought, absently, about how time had ravaged her body. Her breasts were far from pert but her nipples responded as if she were a teenager. She had a vague sensation that there was moistness around her vagina but she took her time about exploring that space. She found herself breathing harder and with one hand, still teasing her nipples, she allowed her other hand to touch her stomach and then the moistness of her vagina. She knew that orgasms originated by stimulating her clitoris but it has been a long time since she had explored that area. She parted her moist lips and began to feel for the nub at the top of her vagina. It responded by giving her a feeling so intense that she pulled her hand away. Too much too soon. She massaged around the area and found that the moistness in her vagina was given over to wetness. Well, at least, her body was functioning. She felt good. Very good. And she began to massage with greater authority. She explored further by putting a finger in her vagina. This was followed by another finger and she found herself using a circular motion that massaged the top wall of her vagina. She rubbed her clitoris with her thumb. The combined sensation was exquisite. And building. And building. Until she felt a wave of pleasure wash over her that, literally, took her breath away. Her legs felt numb and weak and her toes twitched as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her. Exhausted, she dozed for a few minutes.

Ellen was, above all, an analytical person. Trained as an investment banker she was fact driven. The current fact was the Phil had, whether by good luck or otherwise, aroused feelings in her that had been dormant for some time. Her orgasm had been as good and, truth be told, probably better than any she had experienced with her husband during regular intercourse. Ellen wanted to make sure that this was not an isolated event and that she could count on these feelings during the next part of her life. She decided, then and there, to masturbate again. And she did. To even greater sexual heights.

If Ellen could love herself she was prepared to allow someone else to love her. She was not going to pursue sex because that was not in her nature but if sex was to become part of a relationship she would embrace it enthusiastically. She called Phil and made a date for another golf game and dinner. This time alone.


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