Cathy had lived next door to Tom and Sandra for five years. They were good neighbours and kept to themselves. Both were in their late sixties and, Cathy felt sure, still enjoying the physical side of their long marriage. Tom liked to flirt with her in a gentle way, nothing blatant, just some laughs and the occasional double entendre.

Cathy actually enjoyed the attention, having escaped from an abusive marriage; she had no intention of getting into another relationship. But, at the age of forty-five, she still had sexual needs. Her two vibrators had become her best friends. Although it somewhat embarrassed her, she found she needed to use one, or both, almost every day.

Then came the day Sandra suddenly passed away from a huge stroke. Cathy was surprised how well Tom came to terms with the loss of his wife. He spent hours in his garden, and on his computer. Cathy would pop round most days to check on him. She was pleased to see he hadn't lost the twinkle in his eye, and his appreciation of her full figure.

She could remember the moment their relationship changed forever. She had decided to take Tom a cake she had just baked. She went to his front door and rang the doorbell, but there was no answer. 'Bet the old boy is asleep in front of the television,' she thought, making her way to the back door and letting herself in.

As she walked through the kitchen towards the lounge, she was stopped in her tracks by the sounds coming from there.

“Fuck yes, harder, ram it in me, fuck me deep.”

Cathy couldn't believe her ears, the voice was, without a doubt, that of Sandra’s -- but she had been dead for six months.

Tiptoeing to the doorway, she was greeted by a sight she had never expected to see. Tom was sitting in his armchair naked, stroking a formidable cock. His eyes were glued to the television screen.

Cathy's eyes took in the whole scene in a second. Tom with his cock in his hand, and a naked Sandra on the screen, her arse in the air, being fucked from behind by a naked man, who was not Tom.

For a moment, Cathy stood rooted to the spot. Then, as she tried to back out quietly, she caught her elbow on a table lamp, sending it crashing to the floor.

“What the hell…” Tom swung round in the chair and stared at Cathy.

“Oh, Tom! Forgive me, I didn't mean to... to... sorry, have to go,” Cathy stammered as she turned and ran home, the cake still in her hands.

When her phone rang, half an hour later, Cathy knew it would be Tom.

“Cathy, can you come round? There are things I need to tell you about Sandra and me,” Tom said nervously. “I will quite understand if you say no.”

Ten minutes later, Cathy knocked on the front door. She was greeted by an embarrassed-looking Tom. “Come in, Cathy,” he mumbled and led the way into the lounge. The television was off now, and he was dressed in a pair of light slacks and a fawn jumper.

Cathy sat on the sofa and Tom settled into his armchair. His hands fingered the arm of the chair, obviously struggling how to begin.

Cathy broke the silence, “Tom, what you do in your own house is your own affair and nothing to do with me. I had no right to barge in like that. I am so sorry.”

Tom raised one hand as if to silence her. “No Cathy, it is I that should apologize for embarrassing you in that way. But ,if you will permit me, I would like to explain something to you.”

When he received no response from her ,he continued, “I am fortunate enough to have married a wonderful woman, one full of life and fun. For many years we led an open, fun-filled life. I always knew Sandra as a sexy lady and not only enjoyed that, but also encouraged her to be promiscuous, with a small group of like-minded friends. What you saw on the screen, was one of the many sessions we recorded of our liaisons. Now she has gone, all I have left are the memories of the good times, but I still have needs and use the videos to meet them. I can only say sorry again and hope you can find it in your heart to forgive an old man.”

Cathy sat listening; her mind split in response to his words. Part of her felt shocked that the respectable couple she had known for years had, in fact, been part of a swingers group. But, what embarrassed her the most was the itch that was starting inside her panties as she found herself getting turned on by the thought of the orgies that had taken place next door to her.

“Is your group still together, Tom?” she asked while she studied him more closely than she had done before. For a man in his early sixties, he was in very good shape, no belly to speak of, a shade under six foot, with salt and pepper hair. The more she tried to push the memory of him stroking his cock from her mind, the stronger the image seemed to get. “I mean, do you ever… you know, still get together?” 

Tom smiled a sad smile. “Sadly no. The group has a very strict rule, no singles. You must have a partner to join; a good rule really. It stops anyone trying to steal a partner.”

Cathy’s mind was turning cartwheels and she could hardly believe her own ears when she heard herself say, “So. if you had a partner, you could join again?”

“Yes, I suppose I could, but let's face it, a sixty-year-old widower is hardly going to have single sexy ladies queuing up to be his sex partner, is he?” Tom said in a sad voice.

The conversation lapsed for some minutes and Tom excused himself and went into the kitchen. “I'm making coffee, would you like a cup?" he called out.

His voice drew Cathy out of her reverie. “Oh, yes... black please, no sugar.”

A few minutes later, Tom appeared with two mugs of steaming black coffee. He set one on the small table beside Cathy, and the other in a cup holder on the arm of his chair.

Cathy looked at the man fifteen years her senior and said, “Just suppose such a lady exists, would you go back into the group?”

Tom gave a slow, serious nod, “In a heartbeat, I would. We had such great times and I know Sandra would approve.”

Cathy said nothing for a few minutes, then got up and moved over beside Tom's chair. Kneeling, she took his hand in hers, and said softly, “I’ll do it. Tom. I'll be your partner if you'll let me."

The look on his face was a mixture of wonderment, joy, and lust. A smile spread across his face. “Oh my, what a wonderful lady you are that you would do that for me.”

Cathy laughed. “Not just for you, Tom. Remember, I am divorced, so not much sex in my life these days.”

Tom reached out a hand and stroked Cathy's hair, gently running his fingers through it.

It seemed almost the natural thing to do as she ran the tips of her fingers over the obvious signs of an erection in the front of his slacks. Looking up she saw his eyes were closed. He looked years younger than his six decades.

As Tom felt Cathy's soft touch, in his mind it was his Sandra touching, stroking, and arousing him as she had done for thirty-five years. He knew he was doing the right thing encouraging the attractive divorcee kneeling at his side.

Under her stroking hand, Tom's cock hardened even more and he was thrilled when he felt Cathy unzip the fly and delve inside.

She felt a shiver of excitement pass through her as her fingers encountered the warm, hard cock flesh. It was something she had not touched in over a year, since her last, rather unsuccessful, one-night stand.

The progression that followed was as natural as breathing and Tom opened his eyes to watch. Cathy smiled up at him as she released the throbbing member from its prison, allowing it to stand hard and proud before her. She allowed her eyes to feast on the handsome cock she held in her hand. The head of the seven-inch length of manhood stood proud of the pulled back foreskin, pink, with a tiny drop of pre-cum oozing from the small hole. The shaft was nicely veined and a good thickness.

Tom watched as Cathy leaned forward and kissed the tip, then felt the warmth of her breath on it. As he watched, she opened her mouth and slowly took the head inside.

“Oh God, Cathy, that is so good. How I have missed that feeling,” Tom groaned. “Please don't stop.”

 As she sucked and licked his cock, she knew it would be finding its way into her cock-starved pussy soon. She tasted the drops of pre-cum on her tongue and knew his climax was close.

“Oh Cathy, I'm going to cum, please don't stop, so close,” Tom gasped. “Oh fuck, yes... cumming, cumming, now!”

As the first jet of spunk flew into her mouth, Cathy gripped the shaft harder and wanked it fast. Several more jets followed and she swallowed them all, feeling the warm fluid roll down her throat.

“Oh my lovely lady, that was so good. It's been a long time, thank you," Tom said, almost in a whisper. “How can I repay you, my love? Just tell me.”

Cathy smiled, stood up and leaned over him. “Oh I will think of something. Maybe this evening you can return the compliment. Would you like that?” Then she kissed him deeply, allowed the remains of his spunk to pass from her mouth to his. “I will be back this evening, and you can tell me more about the group. Maybe we could even fool around for a while.”

Planting a goodbye kiss on his lips, Cathy slipped quietly out of the room and returned home. Her mind was buzzing with thoughts of how, in the space of a few hours, a whole new world of sexual enjoyment had been opened to her.