A young guy. An older woman

We all of us enjoy sexual thoughts at one time or another and what follows is a fictional tale involving some of my own.

I think I surprised even myself at how lengthy the story is becoming. It still has some way yet to go. Therefore, in order to maintain an interest I felt it best to post this part now. Should anyone feel the need for a part 2, feel free to let me know.

I hope, given they are little more than a reflection of the thoughts of the slightly, older, more mature woman, this will not deter readers from enjoying the story.


As always, I welcome your comments.


My name is Maggie, a married 50 year old who I guess you can say, until recently had lead a fairly sheltered life sexually.

Married to my hubby for a good many years, like everyone else we have experienced the usual ups and downs of marriage but for the most part we’ve always got along well.

Of course, being married as long as we have life has tended to become a little repetitive…mundane and though we both try to vary the things we do it’s never possible to capture that first “flush of youth” , yet, even if the sexual side of things has become less and less of late the two of us are nonetheless able to share a great many things with one another.

That said, I guess my life might have continued along the same mundane path had it not been for a particular, recent event that altered my thinking completely…..but before I get ahead of myself I ought to tell you a little about me as a person.

As I have said, I’m a 50 year old married woman. I stand five feet four in stockinged feet. I have auburn, shoulder length hair with hazel coloured eyes, a feature for some reason my hubby particularly likes and I regularly work out at the gym in the hope I can maintain a figure that defies my age.

I’d like to think I am a fun person and easy to get along with and while I would never say I was the most experienced woman sexually, I am far from being a prude.

It’s true I can occasionally dress a little too conservatively and maybe there have been some who see me as somewhat prim and proper. It’s also true, before I married I had only one or two relationships and of those only one that was truly sexual but that said, I am not averse to trying new and exciting things, besides, marriage in itself is a learning curve and that together with the maturity of my years does have its advantages.

For my sins, I work in a nursing home as a carer and it’s here that recent events gave rise to a change in my life.

About six months ago a young guy started at the home, joining the kitchen staff as a Chef. The fact he was a good looking guy was reason enough for him to have caught my eye, as it did for many of the women there, young and old.

I guessed he was around 19 years of age, slim, a good six inches taller than myself, short brown hair, an infectious smile and deep blue eyes you could lose yourself in. All in all he was someone you’d call a fit looking guy.

Over a period of time we started to chat to one another. At first, it was clear he was somewhat shy and our conversations were little more than a “Good morning” usually said in passing as we both went about our jobs but as the days went by the “good mornings” lengthened and we would spend a few minutes chatting to one another.

While I never made it obvious, it’s fair to say I found Wade (the young guy in question) sexually attractive but at 50 years of age and despite the fact I consider myself in good shape, I am a realist and didn’t expect for a moment those type of feelings would be reciprocated. I simply assumed he was being nothing more than polite. However, the more we chatted the more he seemed to come out of his shell and it wasn’t long before I found he appeared to enjoy flirting with me.

Of course flirting is hardly considered the crime of the century and in most cases can be little more than some harmless fun….but for a 50 year old to have a twenty something flirt with you is very flattering as well as being more than a little arousing…..

I should say, it wasn’t every time we stopped to chat we would flirt for it was often the case other members of the staff would be in earshot, and I suspect neither of us wanted to overstep the mark, but it was enough that I found myself looking forward more and more to those moments when we’d get to share a few words together.

In truth the conversations never amounted to much…I would ask about his weekend…his social life and he’d ask about mine…The replies would more often than not be very matter of fact…nothing more than a brief description of what it was we’d done that particular weekend or evening but as the weeks passed our chats allowed us an insight into one another’s personal lives and of course when the opportunity arose there would always be this underlying feeling we were flirting with one another.

Over a period of time the chats continued until it got to the point a kind of unwritten rule kicked in where both of us would be sure to take our breaks, not just at the same time but also after the other staff members had taken theirs, thereby ensuring wherever possible, the two of us were alone. This in itself used to excite me for it added a kind of illicit feel about our meetings.

One day, on one such break I’d been asking him about his weekend and happened to casually mention if he had taken his girlfriend out somewhere nice. The strange thing was, this many weeks down the line I’d realised he’d never mentioned a girlfriend and I’d never asked. It was then he informed me he wasn’t seeing anyone and that most of his time was spent out and about with his male friends.

I suppose I must have shown some surprise the fact he wasn’t dating for he felt the need to explain to me he did sometimes meet and enjoy the company of girls but it was never anything serious and that he found many girls around his age to be somewhat immature. When I asked what he meant by this he went on to explain how he seemed to attract the two kinds. The ones who wanted to settle down, buy a cottage with roses around the door and have kids…..or the second kind who believed a good night out was nothing more than getting three parts to the wind or out of their heads on some uppers. He went on to say it was rare to find a girl who simply wanted to share a little fun time and added, because of this he’d always found older women more attractive. It seemed he felt they had gone through those phases and knew what they were about.

I have to admit, listening to him that day his words sent a chill coursing through my body and while I was careful not to show it, for the first time it entered my head his flirting with me may not have been entirely all in innocence.

Unfortunately, after this our conversations appeared to “cool” a little, I suspected he’d felt he may have overstepped the mark which was not the case at all. At one point I had even begun to wonder if he’d gone off the idea of flirting. In any event, if that were indeed the case there was little I could have done about it so I accepted how he felt it ought to be until one day I had cause to return some items to the kitchen.

It was around 7 pm, coming towards the end of my shift as I pushed my way through the kitchen swing doors. In truth I never gave a thought to the idea Wade might have been in there changing from his Chef’s outfit into his everyday clothes in readiness to go home but, as I stepped through into the kitchen that’s exactly what was happening.

For what seemed like an age the two of us just seemed to freeze. Him with his trousers halfway down his thighs…me open mouthed, my eyes drawn towards a pair of white briefs and an undeniably impressive manhood clearly outlined beneath the cotton material.

I guess we were stood there for no longer than a few seconds but at the time it seemed an age and throughout I could do nothing to avert my eyes.

When the spell was broken I quickly muttered an apology, placed the items I had returned on the worktop then turned and left, still with the image of his manhood burned into my memory.

That night, alone in bed, with my hubby as usual working away, I did something I hadn’t done in a long while.