Cary stood in the private terminal of the executive airport, the low hum of engines in the distance growing louder as the sleek Gulfstream descended through the dusky sky. Through the tall glass windows, she watched the jet touch down gracefully, the late light glinting off its silver body as it taxied toward her. Cary studied her reflection in the mirror and liked what she saw. Her black-laced leather bustier revealed ju...

Cary sat about halfway back, wearing a conservative classic black pencil skirt that hugged her hips and fell just below the knee, complemented by a matching silk blazer and soft white blouse. Her silver-blond hair stylishly cascaded over her shoulders. At 63 years old, she looked every bit the real estate firm owner, self-assured and utterly in control. Conventions for her were always a mix of business by day and, hopeful...

It was the first day of a mid-week real estate conference in Myrtle Beach. The theme for the conference was female ownership. Cary had been the boss for five years now, ever since Mark left her a widow. Despite the all-woman population in attendance, Cary felt the need, the urge, for a sexual encounter. While married, she had never given a thought to being with another woman, but now, at 63, with a fit body, shapely legs,...

The hotel bar in downtown Chicago was softly lit, where conversations mixed with the sound of jazz piano. Cary sat alone on a leather stool near the end of the bar, her martini glass reflecting the light above. The midweek conference had been dull; name tags and bad coffee. There was no spark, no excitement. No one worth seducing. She wore a low-cut, red mini-skirt that clung to her curves and revealed her dancer’s legs c...

Cary stood at the podium in the Austin hotel ballroom, confident. The room was filled to capacity for her presentation: “Selling Homes to Generation Z.” As the owner of her own firm, she was the keynote speaker at the annual Texas Real Estate Symposium. She had flown in two days earlier, prepared to conquer the business stage, and perhaps have a little fun. Dressed conservatively in a tailored blazer and silk blouse, only...

Cary - Phoenix The late-afternoon sun cast golden slivers across the pool deck, glinting off sunglasses, icy drinks, and bronzed skin. Cary leaned back on a lounge chair, one leg bent casually, the other stretched just so, angled to elongate her calves and draw attention to her thighs. She was well aware of the stares. But she wasn’t doing it for them. Not entirely. Her bikini was bold, a barely there, deep-cut number tha...

Cary – Palm Springs The scene played out before Cary as she looked into the wall mirror across from the bed. A soft light spilled across the room, the two naked women silhouetted in the amber glow. Cary sat cross-legged, her silver-blonde hair cascading over one shoulder, her breathing slow, tentative; her thoughts on what was to come, her first time with another woman. Diane was behind her, close enough that Cary could f...

Cary and David, still catching their breath from the intensity of their first encounter, found themselves laughing softly as they settled back into the quiet of the studio. Their bodies hummed with satisfaction, the want, the need, the desire fulfilled, but the day wasn’t over. “Shall we?” David asked, gesturing toward the easel. Cary smiled knowingly. “Yes. But only if we both agree there will be…a second round later.” T...

Cary stood in the doorway of David’s studio, her silver-blonde hair catching the late afternoon light like strands of silk. At sixty-two, she carried herself with the poise of a dancer, long, toned legs, a trim waist, and curves that drew the eye without effort. David’s eyes lingered on her, first as a man, then as an artist. “You’re even more beautiful in person,” he said, clearly in awe of her. His voice was warm, stead...

The Finish will be told from Brian’s POV “Shower with me,” I whispered, already imagining the steam, the water sliding over her curves, the way I’d wash her slowly, worshipfully, in the quiet afterglow. “As you wish,” she replied. It was glorious, the heat, the passion, and when we were finished, she headed back to the bedroom. “Give me just a minute,” she whispered. Cary was already sprawled across my sheets, the lamp gl...

Cary saw him from across the lobby, late 40s perhaps, handsome in an old-school way. He exuded confidence in his tailored suit and open-collared shirt, and he was headed right towards her. Her heart skipped a beat. “Cary, I just want to thank you for the wonderful presentation.” Brian had attended Cary’s keynote address at the convention, and though it was an excellent presentation, it was thoughtful and incisive. Anyone...