It startled her – that first scent again after such a long time. Ahhhhhh! Lagerfeld cologne! She’d been introduced to it at their first meeting and it was, to her, an important part of their shared history. How it surrounded her as he took her in his arms. How it mingled with the scent of their shared juices to create an even more intoxicating fragrance. How he would jokingly place a dab between his naked hairy thighs whenever they dressed to go out. “Just in case,” he murmured into the soft curls at the nape of her neck, hair piled high.
She closed her eyes and moaned softly, deep in her throat. Inhaled slowly and deeply, then exhaled. Leaning back in her chair, she brought her fingers to her face, running them slowly along her lips…like he used to do. Slowly back and forth, then running up her cheek on the left, like tracing a crooked smile.
Eyes still closed, she sank deeper into memory. Breath quickening as she trailed her fingers over her lips down her chin and neck, and slowly circling one breast. Slowly and slowly his tongue circled, until she could not suppress a slow writhing of her thighs. Another hand, another breast, massaging slowly, then lightly pinching her nipples. Ahhh! This man knew exactly what to do, how to touch, what to say, even how to smell in a way that caused that warm moistening inside her, that inner quiver that let her know she was oh so ready.
Slowly, one hand began to trail down her stomach, playing teasingly with her soft bush – the other still caressing her breast. Her breath began to come in gentle gasps as fingers found her tiny treasure, as hard as what she craved. Sliding deeper, knowing fingers part swollen labia, gently running down and up again, slick from her desire. Again, that tweaking of her clitoris – little ‘man in the boat’ – and back down again. Oh God! That was so good. Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Faster…faster…faster. Now inside of her, that lovely fullness, that wet, hard, sliding, quivering, gasping…oh my GOD – FULLNESS!
Mouth open, she moaned aloud, eyes closed to all but the waves of pleasure rolling through her body, radiating from a hot, throbbing center. Originating in knowing slick fingers. Sated, eyes still closed, she let her head loll back from the weakness caused by her pleasuring.
“My goodness! Mrs. Stevenson! Are you all right? Mrs. Stevenson! Mrs. Stevenson!”
She opened her eyes and shook her head, dazed.
“Mrs. Stevenson, are you all right? I heard you cry out. Are you in any pain?”
She looked up. Smiled weakly.
“Mrs. Stevenson – let me put that old hanky away. It’s a man’s hanky anyway. I can’t think what you’re doing with it again. You’ve got a box of tissues. Hmph! It’s time for bed anyway.”
She watched as the stocky uniformed woman neatly rolled up the handkerchief and replaced it in the drawer of her side table. The woman then turned and plumped up the pillow on the bed.
“Right, let me move your wheelchair over and – UPS a daisy! There you are safe and sound in bed. I know it’s only 9 o’clock, but I expect you have little enough to do or think about at your age. Life must be awfully boring at 87!”
As the nurse’s aide tucked her in, the old woman closed her eyes and smiled. Wanna bet?