The following is a (hopefully) corrected version of my entry into CAW #23 on our Sex Stories sub-forum. The Challenge was to write something based on personal history. Roughly the first third of this tale is true. Some references in it may seem old-fashioned today, since the story is set in 1972.
There are explanatory notes at the end responding to comments from earlier readers. ~~~~~~~ The ambulance jolted and creaked when it hit another pothole. Death-defying thrill rides like this broke up the monotony of wheeling patients around, shaving men to prepare them for surgery, and changing messy bedding at my summer job as a hospital "attendant". I was jack of all trades and master of few. Going on ambulance calls was one of my duties.
I was happy sitting in the back. From there, I couldn't see the cars we nearly hit as we careened along. My co-worker spoke up. "Old Paul's driving is worse than usual today. At least you get a view." "Huh?" I couldn't hear her well over the blaring siren from my perch on the little seat at the head of the empty stretcher. Seated on the slippery padded vinyl bench opposite me, she spread her legs more than seemed necessary to brace against the vehicle's lurching through traffic.
"I wondered if you liked the view." "Don't know what you mean," I lied. "Bullshit." She changed her position, causing her white uniform skirt to ride up more. "I kinda like you looking." "I wasn't looking." "Oh, come on, Mike," she laughed. "You're not very subtle." Old Paul, our volunteer fireman driver on evening shift, ran every call like a stunt driver in a chase scene.
This time was no exception. He slewed the bulky converted Cadillac around a corner, tires howling in protest and engine bellowing when he slammed his foot to the floor again.
We both grabbed handrails in the cramped back compartment to keep from being thrown around. The big car thundered up a narrow street and screeched to a TV-worthy stop behind the cop car already on scene. Mary took a second to straighten the stiff white cap pinned to her French twist hairdo. "Why do you think," she chuckled as I opened the huge rear door, "I wear a uniform dress instead of one of those new uniform pants outfits?" Useless old Paul leaned against the vehicle to smoke a cigarette and bask in the smell of hot rubber and oil and the glory of the flashing lights.
He never helped us with anything. We took the stretcher with our equipment lashed to it up the steps into the house. The cops greeted Mary by name and helped us load the elderly patient for a somewhat more sane drive to the hospital. She held the old woman's hand all the way there while I radioed in our report. When we unloaded at the emergency room, she took charge of the case, writing procedure requests in her neat hand for doctors' scribbled initials.
She comforted the patient's husband and sent a rookie policeman to get coffee for the old man and a candy bar for the crying granddaughter he brought with him. When the patient was wheeled away to her room, Mary squeezed her hand one last time.
We cleaned up our tiny two-exam-table emergency department together since the nurse who covered it while we were out on the ambulance call went back to her ward. Mary relaxed on her desk chair. "Did I shock you?" "How?" I asked, even though I was pretty sure I knew what she meant. "My skirt." "I shouldn't have looked.
I'm sorry." "No, you're not, and neither am I. Mike, it's okay. You're a cute boy. "I'll be twenty-one next week." "And I'm going to get you drunk.
We talked about that before. That's not what I'm talking about now." "What are you talking about now?" She waved her hand dismissively, like she was shooing the words away. "Don't worry about it. Did I ever tell you about my late husband?" "No." "His name was Ted. He looked a bit like you. We got married right after high school. He came back from Korea in a box.
It took me a year to accept it and longer to let myself even notice a man again." "I'm sorry." "Don't be. My point about Ted is he made me promise to move on and live a full life without him if he got killed.
He's a fond memory now and the reason I'm a nurse. He wanted to go to college and med school when he got out of the service, so it made sense for me to get nurse's training while he was away.
I would have a wage for us to live on while he was in school, so when he enlisted I enrolled. It's a rewarding career, I earn enough to get by, and I meet a good class of men." "You still wear your wedding ring." "Yes, to honor Ted.
It helps keep the creeps away when I go out, too. I live for today. Look where we are right now a room where we hope people don't die. Who knows what tomorrow will bring, or if there will even be a tomorrow? Just because I'm old doesn't mean I don't like a man in my bed some nights, but it can't be just anybody." "You're not old, Mary." "A year more than twice your age." "That's hard to believe." "Aw, that's sweet!
You're trying to make my panties wet, aren't you? I do wear panties under my white pantyhose even though they're pretty opaque, in case you couldn't tell. I don't usually show off quite THAT much." "I really wasn't trying to look." She leaned back in her old desk chair and parted her knees just enough.
"Tomorrow I'll wear stockings and a garter belt. You might want to wear tighty-whities instead of boxers if what I see now is any indicator of what bare skin will do to you. We don't want your friend there displayed standing at attention if we get a patient.
Briefs should control the bulge better." I held my coffee cup in my lap in an attempt to hide. "How many girls have you had sex with in college? I'm not going to tell your mother, so you don't have to lie." "I do okay." "I heard a couple girls talk about you here." "Well…" She laughed. "Don't worry. They said good things, Romeo. I could be a real traitor to my gender and tell you which nurse's aide is dying to go out with you, but it might be fun to watch you figure it out on your own." "That's mean." "Yes, it is.
I'm a mean old lady," she laughed. "How old is your mom?" "My parents started late. She's fifty-four." "Still attractive?" "I guess. I don't think of her that way, you know?" "Do you think of any of her friends 'that way'? Women older than you?" "Some are okay, I guess." "As long as a woman's not related to you or in a relationship with someone else, it's not wrong." "No?" "Thinking about almost anything isn't wrong, Mike." The first half of the next evening at work was busy, but later on things got quiet.
My scheduled chores done, I wandered down to the emergency room to goof off. Mary was reading a magazine when I walked in. "Curiosity got the best of you?" she snickered, not looking up.
"About what?" She smirked and shifted in her chair. A thin strip of pale bare skin showed above the frilly top of her white stocking, and a ribbon of white elastic disappeared from there under the raised hem of her white dress.
"I can be a little old school, Mike. Bet the girls in college wear pantyhose or opaque tights, don't they?" "Or jeans, yeah." "I don't feel sexy in jeans or slacks. Not enough chance to tease." She crossed her legs then, treating me to the briefest glimpse of creamy white flesh above her nylons and of the lacy panties covering her crotch before settling into a new position that allowed her dress to fall from the back of one alabaster thigh.
"Go ahead and look. My legs were always my best feature. Don't you agree?" It took me a second to vocalize the word, "Yeah." "For pity's sake, Mike, you act like you never saw a woman's legs or what's between them before! I know that's not true from the stories I hear you swap with the interns." I moved in my chair in an attempt to hide my erection.
"Oh ho!" she laughed. "What's this? Got a problem? I take that as a huge compliment, you know. It feels very good to a woman my age to turn a man on. Seeing a young stud like you get a chubby makes my day. Don't be shy. You like looking at my crotch. I like looking at yours. It's all very natural.
Dirty thoughts are just thoughts." That night when I got home, I couldn't get her out of my head. When I closed my eyes to try to sleep, her pale thighs were all I saw at first, but then I saw my hands unhook her garters and roll her white hose down her legs.
My fingers pulled those frilly white panties down, revealing a neatly trimmed moist black bush with no hint of the silver starting on her head. The fantasy was more than I could stand. I had to masturbate twice before sleep took me. The hospital was busy the next few nights, so I didn't get to spend any time in the emergency room that wasn't for emergency work. The night before my birthday things didn't slow down on the wards until close to quitting time. I dialed Mary when she paged me. "You have the night off tomorrow for your birthday," she said.
"I'm not working either. What time should I pick you up?" "Pick me up?" She teased, "Going senile with advancing age? I'm taking you out to get you drunk, so your car stays at home, young man. Wear a decent shirt and slacks nothing fancy. Give me your address. I'll be there at eight." She rang the doorbell right on time, but I barely recognized her.
Her hair was brushed out, lying in soft black waves on her shoulders. She wore a bright blue knit top that clung to her trim breasts and torso and a tight, carefully-faded denim skirt somewhat shorter than her uniforms. The contrast of the fabrics and her hair to her skin was striking. A hint of tasteful make-up made her deep blue eyes seem bigger.
Her legs looked even shapelier with the moderate chunky heels she wore. She didn't look slutty, but she sure as hell didn't look anywhere close to twice my age. "Ready to go drinking with 'Aunt Mary'?" she laughed. "I don't have any aunts who look like this! Damn!" "I hope that was a compliment. I don't always dress like a prim little nurse." "You look amazing!" "So you won't be ashamed to be seen with me? Great! We both have tomorrow off too, so we can be out till dawn.
Maybe we can find someplace where you can show an old lady how you kids dance. I'll teach you the twist." I'd been in some crummy dives in college where they didn't pay too much attention to age, and I'd seen bars in movies and on TV.
This place was different dark, soft music, with a few couples huddled on stools at the bar itself or at intimate tables for two lit by dim, hanging, Tiffany-style lights.
She led me to the taps where the bartender waited. "We're celebrating his twenty-first birthday. I'm his chaperone," she said. "Mike, this is Sheldon, a friend of Ted's and mine from high school. Show him your license." Sheldon glanced at the card and shook my hand firmly. "Welcome to the world of legal booze, kid. How do you know Mary?" "We work together." "Mike helps me in the emergency room and on the ambulance." "I don't know how you people do that job.
My stomach couldn't handle it," Sheldon said, still gripping my hand.
"I've known Mary since high school. There's a lot of fight in that little body and a hell of a lot of knowledge in that pretty head. Stick with her and learn. Now, what do you want for your first legal drink?" "What beer do you have on tap?" Mary interrupted. "Mike, please, this is a big night for you!
It's my treat. Sheldon, we'll each have a shot of bourbon, neat, and give him a mug of something imported." "A chaser for you, hon?" She leaned over the bar.
"A cola and my usual kiss." "I'd wind up on the couch if my wife knew what goes through my head about you sometimes," Sheldon laughed. He gave her a peck on the cheek. "Thinking about almost anything isn't wrong," she chuckled and led me to a table in a corner away from other patrons.
Sheldon brought our drinks a minute later. "Happy birthday, Mike. Mary, I trust you to keep him from getting too drunk in my bar." When he was gone, Mary raised her shot glass. "At birthday toast! May your wishes come true." She clinked her glass against mine, tapped the table with it, and belted the amber liquid down in one swallow.
I followed suit and struggled not to cough. A few sips of beer helped. "You're not a heavy drinker, are you?" she asked. "More of a beer man. Keg parties and the bar near campus." "Sometimes I enjoy a glass of wine in the tub after a rough shift," she said.
"I come in here once a week to visit Sheldon and get a shot of the good stuff. He used to swipe bottles from here when his dad owned the place. He always shared with Ted and me. We talk about the old days and pretend we're still young. Since I'm not, for the rest of tonight it's cola for me. You can drink as much as you like." We sipped our beverages in silence for a minute. Then she said, "Tell me about the girls in college." "What do you want to know?" "I see all the magazine articles about sex on campus.
Is it really that wild?" "Don't know what you read." She grinned.
"Crazy parties. Free love. It wasn't that way in nursing school in my day. Now, with the pill, I bet it's all changed. Is it easy to get laid?" "It's not a drunken orgy all the time." "But some of the time?" "I've had a few girlfriends. I don't pick up drunk chicks. I have my fun, but I have some standards." She sipped her cola. "What's your opinion of me?" I hesitated, afraid of saying the wrong thing.
"You're the best nurse in the hospital. You know all the cops. You're not scared of old Paul's driving. You teach doctors stuff. You don't back down with unruly patients.
You're great with kids." "Thank you, but we're not at work now. We're a man and a woman in a cocktail lounge." "What do you want me to say?
You're a lot of fun. I'm really happy to get to spend time with you outside work. You're an attractive woman." She leaned toward me and lowered her voice, although there was no one around to hear. "I'm sure you saw I'm not wearing pantyhose or stockings. I think my legs still look okay bare. Do you?" "Your legs are wonderful, Mary." "Are you curious about what's under my skirt tonight?" I forced myself to make eye contact.
"Yes." "Finish your beer." We walked to her car in silence, and she said nothing as she drove. Soon, we pulled into a driveway next to a small house. She got out of the car and said, "Come in." I followed her to the couch and sat next to her. "I'll take you out and get you puking drunk later if you want, but not yet. I want you to show it to me." "What?" "If you want to see what's under my skirt, I want to look at something too.
I know you get hard for me at work. Don't make me feel older than I am." She placed my one hand on her breast and ran her free hand slowly up my thigh. "We're not at work now." Her nipple rose in my palm through her clothes, and my cock grew to meet her fingertips. "I can keep a secret if you can," she said. She started on my belt. "Undress me." By the time I unhooked her bra, my penis was in her hand.
She shrugged the filmy garment off her shoulders and changed her grip on me to free her arms from the straps. "You didn't drink enough to have beer goggles, and you're getting harder.
Touch them." "Mary, you're &hellip." "Shh. I want you to. The men I bring home are usually much older than you. I like the idea of a college boy wanting me." She stroked me gently as I explored her small breasts. "I feel so naughty, like Mrs. Robinson from that movie. Now you may see what's under my skirt." She stood and fumbled with the zipper in the back, then wriggled the tight denim off her hips and let it fall to the floor. She kicked off her shoes and posed facing away from me in skimpy, translucent bikini panties.
The view of her still-supple ass made me twitch. She had a butt to rival some of the girls I had been with before. She pulled her panties down slowly, her openings peeking at me between her legs. "Turn around," I breathed. She did, confirming my masturbatory fantasies. "Seems you like what you see," she said, pointing at my erection. "I do." "I bet I can make your dick feel better than those college girls. I've been doing this longer than they've been alive." She knelt in front of me and fondled my erection for a moment, then lifted it and licked my scrotum.
The sensation burned up my spine. She fondled my balls and nibbled on my shaft and crown with her lips. When I groaned my pleasure, she took me into her mouth.
Her laugh lines deepened as she smiled around me, but she never stopped working me with her hand, lips, and tongue. It took an embarrassingly short time for me to near the end. "Mary…" "You're going to climax soon, aren't you?" She grinned and then sucked me in again.
When I ran my fingers through her hair, she went faster until I filled her mouth. She swallowed and licked me like a frozen treat. "Happy birthday.
Mmm. I love that taste." She led me to her bedroom then and helped me undress the rest of the way. "Have you ever eaten pussy?" I pulled her to me, grabbing her ass to grind her belly against my re-awakening cock. "My favorite food." I lifted her and put her on the middle of her bed to admire her. Her modest breasts barely showed signs of age, the nipples pencil erasers on small, crinkled areolas.
Her belly was soft but petite like the rest of her, and her lovely legs looked better than ever. Her neat wet curls called to me, and I answered. She seemed reserved at first, not relaxed enough to enjoy my fingers on her wet slit or my kisses on her thighs.
"You're tense, Mary." "I can't believe I seduced you." "You didn't have to work at it real hard." "No, you made it easy. I don't care if it's wrong.
It's so good for my ego. It's been too long since a man was down there." "I love going down on a girl." I pushed her thighs apart and found her moisture with my tongue. She jumped when I did.
"Oh, God." The taste of pussy to me is like booze to an alcoholic. When I start, I can't stop until I'm drunk on it. Mary was no exception. She was different from the college girls and nurse's aides every bit as wet as any, but her flavor was richer. I lapped at her like an over-heated dog, fingering her deeply and nibbling around her clit when it came out to play.
She seemed to love it when I pushed my tongue inside her, but she finally stopped me with three words. "Fuck me now." "Really?" "I need your cock. When I decided to play merry widow I got an IUD, but now I'm on the pill.
Don't pull out." She urged me upward and sucked her taste from my tongue. I positioned myself over her, and she wiped my cock head on her wet pussy lips to prepare it.
Then she notched me in her entrance and smiled. "It's time you tried someone mature." She let me penetrate her deep in one slow stroke.
Her walls were tight, but they gave way to their new visitor. "How many times can you cum in a night?" she whispered, wrapping her limbs around me. "We'll see." I pulled halfway out and sank back in. She ground herself against me. "I blew you to take the edge off so you'll last.
Next time, I'm on top." I put everything I knew into fucking her changing speed and angle, playing with her breasts and buttocks, kissing her, massaging her clit, trying my best to make her cum on my cock more than once before I couldn't hold back, and then pushing deep to bathe her insides in spunk.
It seemed like I came a long time. The way her pussy milked me helped. Spent, I rolled off.
We lay side by side, sweaty and breathless. Finally she asked, "Are we having fun yet?" "I can't believe this." "What?" "You. Me." "Hate to break it to you, Mike, but you're at the age of your sexual peak. Women seem to have one before we hit the change. It's like we're afraid we won't get dick much longer, especially since some men our age are going downhill, so we grab what we can." She emphasized her words by grasping my wet penis.
"We should live for today. You belong with a girl your age, but a little sex between co-workers can be fun.
Who knows? This old broad might be able to teach you something you can use on your next conquest." I grew in her hand as she spoke. "This is probably weird for you," she said. "It's weird for me. I always stuck with my age group before. Ted and I were only a month apart, and when I started dating again, I was still a young woman, so I went with young men. As I aged, so did my lovers. Then I saw you looking at me." "Couldn't help it.
I have a confession to make." "Oh?" She stroked me slowly. "Do tell." "I look at you every chance I get. Your figure is my ideal body type. Even when you're not flashing me, if I look at you long enough I get hard. That night after you showed me your panties, when I got home I masturbated thinking about you." "Honestly, I sort of hoped you would," she said.
"It's a guilty thrill for me knowing that. Am I tight enough?" "Tight enough? Are you kidding?" "This old pussy doesn't get used that much by … you know… a real dick, so I hoped it would feel good to you. I want you to fuck me again." She climbed on top and straddled me, fingering herself and pumping me to full readiness. "Do you want me to suck you, or can I go ahead and put it inside?" She rubbed my glans in her new wetness and the fluids leaking out of her from our last session.
She made the decision for both of us, positioning me in her entrance and bearing down. "Shit!" I hissed. She sank onto me, spreading her stance to allow me to penetrate until I touched her cervix. "You know what you're against, don't you, Mike?" "Bottom." "Of my vagina, yes. If we work at it, you may be able to push through into my uterus. I'm pretty small. You're certainly big enough." She rode me like a rodeo performer, bucking, moving her legs to shift her weight, bracing herself on my ribs or thighs as she fucked me.
When she leaned back I could watch my shaft disappear into her sodden depths, our combined mess foaming with our passion. Sweat dripped down her throat and into her shallow cleavage.
"Push into me, Mike. Deeper. Force it!" She bore down as I rammed upward, my hands pulling her pelvis down to help. Her muscles parted to admit me to a place I had never been before.
"Yes!" she moaned. "You're in my womb! Please! Please cum inside me!" She held still then, her cervix clamped around the base of my helmet, and let her natural movements take over.
Her vaginal muscles pulsed on my shaft, her uterus contracted with her climax, and she didn't stop. Her breath came in ragged gasps as her orgasm continued, sucking the juice from my balls. Her cervix was so tight the semen seemed to boil in my shaft, and when it finally escaped, she shrieked and collapsed on top of me. I realized she was sobbing. "What's wrong?" She smiled and fought back her tears. "Sorry. I love that feeling so much. I know I'll miss it when I can't get a man to do that to me anymore." I held her at arms' length to study her.
She was a beautiful woman. She must have driven the doctors crazy as a young nursing student. "What are you thinking, Mike?" She squeezed her Kegel muscles on my softening shaft. "Best birthday ever." She climbed off and cuddled against me. "I'll trust you not to say anything at work. We'll stay the same as we were there, but I'm not waiting for your next birthday to have you in my bed again, if that's all right with you." I played with her hair, a stray strand of silver glinting in the nightstand light.
"Why me?" "Why not? You're not married, you don't have a steady girlfriend, and I think you can be discrete. I like you. I feel I can trust you. We get along well. You're a cute boy … um … man. I saw the way you looked at me when you thought I wouldn't notice, and it got me thinking.
I wondered if I could make you want me." I ran my hand down her body, delighting in the sensuous way she moved to meet it. "Do you have your answer?" She rolled toward me again, and we kissed and made out almost like we hadn't done anything yet.
Soon, she felt me hard against her leg. "This is why I wanted a younger man. It's been a long time since I was with a guy who could get ready again this fast. Damn, we're messy! Let's go clean up." She led me to her bathroom and turned on the shower. When she was satisfied with the water temperature, we got in.
Seeing her naked under the streaming water made me appreciate once again how compact this woman was. When wet, her hair was jet black, and two steady rivulets of water ran off her plump nipples. Her fingertips tickled my cock. "You actually like what you see, don't you? I'm flattered." "Yes, I do. I hardly dared fantasize about you before." "And now?" "My fantasies didn't come close." "That's the birthday toast working," she laughed.
"Remember? I asked that your wishes come true." She busied herself with bathing.
I stood and stared. When she was finished, she pulled me under the water and moved aside. "Your turn, but I get to wash your cock." I hurried through the rest of bathing to give her the chance. She soaped me with her hands until I was fully hard and then lathered my scrotum. "Did you ever have sex in the shower?" "In the dorm a couple times." She ground herself against me.
"Show me how you did it." Together we got ourselves situated, she with her back against the tile wall of the tub, her ass in my hands and arms around my neck. We mated vigorously, almost desperately, and again her vaginal muscles milked me dry. We rinsed ourselves clean. "Did you ever hear of the play 'Tea and Sympathy'?" she asked. "Had to read it for Freshman Lit. class in college." She fondled my well-used manhood. "As the woman in it says, 'Years from now when you talk about this and you will be kind.' I needed this, Mike.
Thank you. Now, I promised to get you drunk. Do you want to dry off and get dressed?" "I want to dry off. Not sure about clothes." "My young stud. If you think you can go again, I'll help." We made slow tender love that time and fell asleep. Morning sun on my face and a tongue on my cock woke me. "Glad the rest of you is finally awake," she said before taking me into her throat, gagging just a little, and wiping the drool off her chin with her hand to lubricate her pussy.
She feasted on my morning wood, stroking me, moaning, and playing with herself so I could see. I was still pretty worn out from the night before, so I lasted surprisingly long considering her talent. This time, there was no question about coating her tongue with my semen. She swallowed and laughed. "I wish I could have taken a picture of your face when you first woke up." "This isn't how I usually wake up." "Are you sorry you didn't get to drink more last night?" I pulled her naked body against mine to cuddle.
"When you picked me up looking that good, all the thoughts I had about you started swirling in my head. When you asked if I wanted to see under your skirt, I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. Pretty much forgot about booze at that point." "You seemed like you enjoyed yourself. I know I did." She kissed me softly and snuggled. "You know we can't do this all the time." "Okay." "You need girls your age, and I need men closer to mine." "You're probably right." She smiled.
"Now when I flash you my panties, you'll know what's under them." "You'll know my reaction a little better now, too." She fondled my flaccid cock. "I like your reaction. Maybe we can have fun next time we both have the same day off." We got dressed, and she took me home. "See you at work," she said before she drove away. ~~~~~~ About "Mary": I worked in the smallest of three hospitals in a little city while I was in college.
My job title was "attendant" or male nurse's aide. I did a lot of patient care, but I floated throughout the building rather than being assigned to one ward. I spent time in our tiny emergency room and rode the volunteer fire company ambulance on contract to the hospital. "Gallows humor" was common in stressful situations. Doctors told dirty jokes while trying to stem arterial bleeding or re-start hearts in the emergency room. We got silly in the back of the ambulance to hide our terror about the way old Paul drove.
It didn't matter if we were going for a person with a broken toe or a broken neck. We went with lights, sirens, and burning rubber. There were scuffs on the whitewall tires from the way he attacked corners.
The local cops didn't care since he never wrecked and was related to half of them. Laws and their enforcement were different then about yielding the right of way to emergency vehicles. Paul, a former jalopy race car driver, took full advantage. The hospital's rig was similar to those below.
"Mary" was a real person. She'd be in her mid-eighties if she were still with us. She was born decades before her time. Her independence would seem strong in a forty-ish woman even now. She wasn't brash or coarse. She could conduct herself as a lady by the standards of the day, but she took charge and let people know what she wanted or felt was needed.
Her physical description is accurate. Back then, hospital nurses wore white uniforms, hosiery, shoes, and caps as illustrated.
I believe I saw Mary in a pants uniform twice in three years. She was a huge flirt and a bit of an exhibitionist with people she trusted. I learned to appreciate garters and stockings working with her, and she was well aware of it. However, she could pull off the "sweet little nurse" thing well, comforting babies and old people with the best of them. She was exceptional at her profession, brilliant in a medical crisis.
We never touched, other than a surprisingly warm farewell kiss and hug from her on my last day at the job. To my knowledge, she wasn't predatory in her dealings with men. Assertive is a better word.
Rumor was she had her fun. Melancholy? Maybe. Mary was aware of her age. She seemed to take excellent care of herself and pride in her appearance. Her uniforms were always stark white, her shoes gleaming with fresh white polish. She wore little make-up because she didn't need to. She chose not to dye her few strands of gray hair, but sometimes she mentioned the passing of time. I'd like to think she was realistic about it. We talked a lot, shared a number of secrets.
She was excited about becoming a great aunt, so I think she accepted her life. Penetration of the cervix is possible in a woman with a shallow uterus. The cervix is a sphincter muscle like the anus made to be stretched open naturally and able to tolerate it artificially, as in some types of medical procedures. Some women report the experience as being quite painful during the stretching process, while others seem to enjoy it immensely as part of sexual intercourse.
As with anal penetration, it becomes easier and hopefully more pleasurable with repeat experience. When the woman orgasms, her uterus contracts slightly but rhythmically, stimulating the head of the penis.
The basis of this story is fact. I'm "Mike". The portions of this tale dealing with work happened. What "Mary" and "I" did outside work is fantasy. I was attracted to her as a person, not just a vagina. At that age, I'm sure I would have eagerly accepted any physical attention she showed me, but, in my case at least, there was nothing but harmless flirting.