new groove for old babe

New Groove For Old Babe

My name is Stella; not Stella of the movie, but this is the story of how I recaptured my groove at age 61. My husband passed away six years ago, and shortly after, my divorced daughter moved in with her young son. My daughter is now thirty seven and my grandson a handsome athletic eighteen year old. I have been living a quiet satisfied life with my daughter and grand, but over the last year or so I have been noticing some changes in myself. It started with an unexplained feeling of restlessness most of the time, and about three or four months ago that restlessness suddenly identified itself as horniness. I have been having frequent and overwhelming bouts of horniness, to the point where I have slipped back into a long ago discarded habit of masturbating. I masturbate on an average four or five times a week, sometimes even during the day if I’m home alone, but mostly at night. Looking out my window onto the street, or while about town shopping, or at family or social outings I would look at, or if the opportunity presents itself, even flirt with, random strangers of all ages whom I find attractive, some of them I have to admit, ridiculously young, I would store the images of these males in my mind and use them as fantasy food in my bouts of self pleasuring. I would spend literally hours sometimes, just rubbing my nipples and clit or finger fucking my pussy and asshole till I cum. Recently I’d started even sticking cucumbers, eggplant, bananas and plantains up my cunt.

I have always been an attractive woman, of mixed ancestry, my dad having been three quarters black, and my mom half East Indian, and half Portuguese. I am five feet eight, with a figure that is described here in the Caribbean as slim-thick, that is, I am slim but rounded and curvy, not in any way boney or angular. I have the ass of my dad’s race and the color and skin tone of the other mix. My breasts never grew bigger than small avocadoes, always firm and prominent with long nipples; and since I’d suckled only one child, remained fairly firm and upright over the years, not necessitating much need for bras. After my husband’s passing I had lost all interest in sex and men, even though I would occasionally be hit upon by guys, old and young, and this was just fine with me until the heat that took over my body a few months ago. Now, I look at, think of and sometimes flirt with men all the time, without allowing it to get serious. I sometimes wonder if this started because of the presence of my grandson who is nearly always shirtless in the house and not averse to sometimes wandering about in his underwear, and he seems to always have a semi hardon.

On one such horny day, I’d been moving about the house doing this and that, a little bit tipsy after two glasses of wine, when I ventured downstairs and saw the old refrigerator that had been replaced a few days ago, and was now awaiting disposal. I had been holding on to this fridge for sentimental reasons, but last week after it had broken down after being fixed six months ago, I decided enough is enough and my daughter quite pleased to see the last of it, not giving me chance to change my mind, purchased a new fridge the next day. Looking at the fridge I immediately remembered the young man who had last fixed it, and the way he had been so brazenly checking me out as I stood by watching him work. I am sure that if it weren’t for the presence of my daughter and grand, he would have made a pass at me; which I would have passed up of course, because the constant itch in my pussy hadn’t yet started. But as I thought of him now, his name was Michael, with my pussy itching like hell for some action, I couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to see him again, not to do anything, just flirt a bit and then finger fuck myself to the memory after he’d left. I began rubbing my pussy through the thin house dress that I was wearing, and an idea came to my head. I got my phone and found his number. He answered after the second ring.
“Hi Michael, I don’t know if you can remember me, but this is Stella Shury, from Courida Park whose fridge you fixed last Christmas”
“Of course I remember you, who wouldn’t, the beautiful lady with those nice light brown eyes; the well-kept house with nice art pieces and a huge bookshelf; Shows a lot of class, your house and you”
I was sweetly stunned by his words, and immediately raised the hem of my dress and pushed a shaky hand into my panties.
“You’re a real flatterer; you do know how to make a lady feel good. Anyhow the fridge broke down again and I bought a new one, but I remember when you needed a part for mine, you said that for old brands like this you rely on parts you salvaged from abandoned ones.