An Older Fling on Holiday

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Your view of the world, and of yourself, changes when you retire.

Circumstances dictate, and what you looked forward to, doesn’t always transpire.

Yes, you don’t have the work stress, you don’t have the clock pressure, but you don’t necessarily have the freedom you thought would be there.

Particularly if you’re married, you have grandkids, and, in my case, you become a carer for your wife.

I won’t go into the details, but suffice it to say that Mary, my wife, is not too independent, and gets less mobile.

This story begins by booking a trip to Italy, and it all began in April.

An ‘organised’ coach trip for eight days, staying at two hotels, and a flight both ways.

After, thank goodness, an uneventful flight, we arrived at Pisa airport, and were collected by the coach, for the drive to our first hotel in Florence.

There were a mixture of the older generation, in various states of health.

“Am I really on this geriatric beano?” was the thought in my mind.

Casting my eyes around the coach, I noticed an old guy, and his wife, two rows in front of us, and I was struck by the wife’s blonde hair, and slim waist. She had smiled briefly at me as we boarded, and I thought it was just a passing politeness in the narrow aisle.

It was only our second trip to Italy, and Mary had always wanted to visit Florence and Tuscany. As the coach journey showed us, it was certainly very beautiful.

Arriving at our hotel just ten minutes walk from the centre, we collected our baggage, and were told which room we were in. The blonde lady had a hotel lad helping with her cases, as her husband was using two walking sticks.

By the time we were settled it was late afternoon, and leaving Mary to rest, I took my camera, and decided to explore the surrounding area.

The weather was warm, and I wandered through a few streets taking some photos, until I decided to return, and have a drink in the hotel bar.

As I stood at the bar, the blonde woman was passing through, on her way to her room.

She smiled, and gave a little wave, and I said, “Hi.”

She stopped mid stride, and came over.

“Hi to you, I’m Vicky, you were on the coach?”

“Yes, it looks like we are on the same trip. I’m Tim, I’m with my wife, I’ve escaped for a bit. She finds it difficult to walk too far,” I replied.

“Snap Tim, my husband is not good at walking either. To be honest, it’s great to have my own space for a while.”

“Well I’m glad someone else feels like I do, we must be kindred spirits.”

I watched her smile again. And then she squeezed my arm and said, “We’ll probably talk again, I hope. I must get back to our room, we’re going out for dinner.”

And with that I said, “Enjoy,” as I watched her walk to the stairs. while probably staring a bit too long.

The evening was spent having a pleasant meal in the hotel restaurant, and at about nine thirty Mary retired to bed, leaving me to finish the bottle of Chianti.

Taking the glass into the bar, I made myself comfortable in an armchair. I love people watching, and my eyes were rewarded with Vicky and her husband, arriving back in a taxi, from their restaurant.

She spotted me, and gave that little wave, and mouthed, “Hi.”

I mouthed back, and smiled, and raised the glass to her.

To my surprise, within five minutes she had come back down the stairs, and was walking over to me.

As I stood up she said, “Oh don’t stand Tim, I’m just having a quick break, and saw you, and thought ‘sod it’ I’ll have another glass of wine. I’ve left Frank upstairs.”

Vicky ordered a glass of red from the waiter, and sat down opposite me.

For the first time, I could fully appreciate how beautiful she looked. Her blonde hair fell down around her beautifully made up face, with blue eyes, and full lips. Her legs were long, and smooth with slim ankles. And she had that wonderful slim waist that I’d first noticed on the coach.

“I just needed that space again,” and smiling she said. “So tell me about yourself Tim, being really cheeky, tell me something about yourself that not many other people know?”

“Oh my gosh, really?” I pondered, ” Are you sure? Ok, no one knows, not even Mary. I write erotic short stories. There I’ve said it,” I almost blushed.

“Wow! How bursa eskort exciting. Where are they? Have you published them?” Vicky’s eyes lit up.

“They’re actually on a website,” I replied sheepishly.

“Tell me, tell me, tell me,” asked Vicky excitedly, getting out her I-phone.

“All right, give me your phone, I’ll write the website into your ‘notes’ page.

Vicky unlocked the phone, and pressed the note icon. I quickly typed in the website, and my author name, and taking a chance, I added my mobile number.

“There it is. Please be prepared to be shocked, I really shouldn’t have told you. You may not speak to me tomorrow.”

Vicky had a broad smile on her face. She’d seen the mobile number. “Are you on ‘What’s App?’ can I message you?”

“Yes, I’ll keep it on silent. This is all becoming a bit naughty.”

“It is, isn’t it. Naughty boy. Look I’ve got to go, I’ll see you tomorrow,” and getting up, she disappeared upstairs.

I finished my glass, and went upstairs too, excited by the thought of Vicky reading my stories.

Mary was watching tv, at least, watching BBC News. I relaxed into the armchair, browsing the internet. Fortunately, there was good wifi in the hotel.

The time was ten thirty, and I was thinking about turning in.

As I was scrolling through some websites, a message came through on ‘What’s App,’

It was a new number, and it said, ‘You naughty, naughty boy!’ It was from Vicky.

I smiled, and quickly straightened my face, in case Mary wondered why.

I replied, ‘I hope you enjoyed at least one of them.’

The text came back immediately, ‘The Slutty Wife and Astrid excited me. Sleep tight. See you tomorrow, I hope.’

My last message was, ‘You sleep well too.’

I got up early next morning to catch the dawn light for some photos.

On my phone was another text. ‘Good morning. I stopped awake to read more. Your stories are very arousing.’

I replied, ‘Thank you. Just going out to take a few pics.’

I left the hotel when the streets were empty, and I wandered, as I tried to find a high view point. I managed to get some nice photos, but after an hour I had to get back.

As I got to the end of the street where the hotel was, I stopped for one more shot. As I got down on one knee to get a better angle, there was a tap on my shoulder. I looked up, and standing there was Vicky.

“Hello, naughty boy,” and she burst out laughing.

I stood up, and she put her arms around my neck, and kissed me full on the lips.

Pushing my camera out of the way, I pulled her towards me, and looked closely into her eyes, and said quietly, “You are such a tease, and such a temptation.”

She offered her mouth again, and we kissed softly, gently. When we stepped back, we both took a deep breath.

“Vicky I’m not sure what to say, but I know I am shaking. I feel extraordinary.”

Vicky just looked, and then said, “You’re an exciting man, Tim. I hope we can make some time to be alone together.”

We didn’t say a lot before we kissed again, several times, until someone walking past coughed loudly to interrupt us. Even in romantic Italy, it was unusual to see public displays of love between older citizens.

We walked back to the hotel together, not quite holding hands, but feeling such closeness.

We agreed to be discreet, and said we’d text later.

The day was spent as a tour party, visiting the Uffizi gallery, and I used the opportunity to introduce myself to Vicky’s husband Frank, and to introduce them to Mary. At least now we ‘knew’ them as another couple on the tour.

I did make eye contact with Vicky a few times, but we were being careful. It seemed like an illicit affair, and even at that stage I guess it was.

It wasn’t until next morning that I was alone with Vicky again. It was a brief interlude before breakfast, and we managed a few words to say that we would meet in the bar late that evening if possible, after our respective halves were settling down to go to bed.

It would be our last night in the Florence hotel, before we moved to Monterrigioni for four nights.

After dinner that evening I got a text from Vicky saying that she would try to go down to the bar after about ten, but wasn’t absolutely sure if she’d bursa merkez escort make it. I replied that I’d try to be there if possible.

I did manage to use an excuse, and I got myself an armchair, and a glass of wine, and waited with a desperate hope that I’d see Vicky.

At precisely ten she came out of the lift looking stunning in rather a short dress, belted at the waist, and cut low at the neck.

“You look absolutely ravishing,” I said, not being able to take my eyes off her.

“You don’t look so bad, yourself,” she added smiling. She asked the waiter for a glass of white wine, and we settled into our armchairs to chat.

We chit chatted about our day, all the time our eyes playing with each other. At one point our legs touched under the low table, and we began to smooth them against each other. Strangely it was very arousing.

Vicky must have felt it too. Suddenly she said, “Those stories, I found them very arousing. You’re quite a naughty man, and you made me very wet.”

I was quite taken aback at the frankness of what she was saying, and she saw that.

Laughing she said, “I’ve shocked you, I’m surprised because your stories are very explicit, and I know you’re no angel.”

“I guess so, but I’m thrilled they got to you. How many have you read? Some of them are a bit ‘dark.’

“I’ve read four so far, but I will read the rest, when an opportunity presents itself,” she smiled.

“But I must go, Frank will be fretting.”

“Yes, me too. Let me walk you upstairs.”

I followed her up the wide flight of stairs to the first landing. Her room was just along the corridor, but in the opposite direction was a short corridor to a storeroom for linen.

I took her hand, and pulled her gently into that space, and we kissed.

“Goodnight, I hope we can see each other when we get to Monterrigioni,” I said.

“I’m sure we will, I will make sure we will,” and as we kissed again, Vicky lowered her hand, and ran it over the crotch of my trousers, feeling the bulge that she had created.

She added, “I want you,” and she turned on her heels, and was gone.

The next day we all transferred to our hotel in Monterrigioni.

It was near the walled town, but the hotel had a different feel. Single story blocks, with a swimming pool, and spa.

Texting Vicky, I told her that I was going out again early next morning, with my camera. I was hoping she could get away too. This was all becoming full of intrigue.

The next morning I set off at dawn, much to Mary’s disbelief, and decided to get up to the walls around the town. There was no one about, and as I got to one of the towers, a text came through from Vicky. She had ‘escaped.’

I texted her to say where I was, and I carried on taking photos.

Within fifteen minutes she arrived at the top of the tower, out of breath, but smiling broadly.

With no one around, and certainly no one able to overlook us, we kissed, and kissed again.

“Oh Tim, I’ve wanted you all night,”

I took her in my arms again, and we kissed again, but this time my hands started to explore her body. I felt her breasts through her dress, and ran my hands down her back to her rounded buttocks. She pressed into me, and I felt the hardening of my cock. Even at my age I had lust, and desire.

My fingers strayed to the front of her dress, and I lifted the hem, and I felt the smoothness of her thighs. Stroking upwards, I was expecting the silky texture of her panties, but to my amazement there was none, just the soft, wet lips of her pussy.

My finger slipped inside, and as I pushed deeper, Vicky groaned.

We were at the top of a tower. Madness I knew, but I wanted her as much as she wanted me.

I turned her around, and told her to lean on the stone parapet.

“Spread your legs,” I commanded, and at the same time unzipping my flies, I freed my cock, and pushed it between the cheeks of her ass. It found its target, and I eased it inside her pussy.

“Fuck me Tim, fuck me hard.”

There we were, two sixty somethings, fucking outdoors in Italy, at six in the morning.

Vicky was trying to stifle her little moans, I was trying to stifle my grunting.

We fucked for about five minutes, before I started to cum. bursa sınırsız escort As I was shooting inside her, I reached around, and rubbed her clit. It was all that was needed. With a cry, Vicky came too. Her knees buckled, but I managed to hold her up.

Looking around, we both made ourselves decent, and then looking at each other, we both burst out laughing.

The next twenty four hours were difficult. I was infatuated with Vicky, and now I had tasted intimacy with her, I wanted more. We texted each other with some quite explcit messages, teasing, but not knowing if, or when, we could meet again.

We both got on with our holiday, and after some texts we planned another late evening glass of wine in the bar.

As I left my room to make my way to the bar, I noticed a sign on the room next to mine, and Mary’s. It said that the room was under repair. I casually tried the door handle, and the door opened. Looking inside, the bathroom had been stripped out with only a toilet remaining, but the rest of the room was as normal, except that the bed had just a bare mattress. I had the seeds of an idea.

Our glass of wine didn’t last long, but I was excited to see if Vicky was as daring as I thought she was.

“I have an idea, if you’re up for it?”

I had a smile on my face. Vicky looked intrigued, and nodded.

“Come on naughty boy, tell!”

“I’ve noticed the room next to ours is being renovated, I know it’s risky, but how about meeting me there early tomorrow morning?”

“Gosh, you are a naughty boy, you mean the one right next to your room?” Vicky’s eyes opened wide.

“Yes, it’s got a sign on the door. I’ll text you when I’m in there.”

We both hurried back to our respective rooms, with a brief kiss in the shadows.

The next morning, making my usual excuse for early morning photography, I picked up my camera, and left Mary in bed. I had texted Vicky from the bathroom, and her reply had said, “Be there in fifteen minutes.”

I excitedly tried the door handle, and thank goodness, it was still unlocked.

Unfortunately, the bare mattress on the bed was not very inviting, but needs must.

The gentle tap on the door came minutes later, and Vicky slipped inside like a naughty schoolgirl. She giggled, as she put her arms round my neck.

“I’m sorry this isn’t the honeymoon suite,” I said sarcastically, indicating the lack of bed linen.

“Haven’t even noticed,” she whispered, as she went to inspect it.

Pressing the mattress with her hands, she turned to face me. “Well we’ve only got an hour,” she said, pulling her jersey dress over her head.

I took a very deep breath as she unclasped her bra, and slipped out of her panties.

“Get yours off then,” she giggled again.

In a flash I was undressed, and in her arms. The feeling of skin on skin was wonderful.

Our hands were everywhere, and quite roughly, she pulled me around, and pushed me back on the bed.

My cock was hardening, and Vicky knelt on the bed with her knees on either side of me.

She lowered her bottom so that her pussy rubbed against my semi hard cock. As she leaned forward above me, both her blonde hair, and breasts hung down. Those big blue eyes captivated me every time. As I felt my cock grow stiffer, Vicky adjusted her body, and slid very slowly onto my cock.

“God, that feels so good, Tim,” she sighed, as she started to raise, and lower her hips onto me.

I was playing with her breasts, stroking, squeezing the nipples, which made her moan with pleasure.

She continued to grind down on me, getting wetter as we moved. And those movements became more animated. Suddenly, she pulled me over, on top of her, and said, “fuck me Tim, hard.”

I started to pound into her, making her cry out with long extended moans. I could sense she was close.

With a shuddering, high pitched screech, she came, pushing me over the edge, and starting to milk spurt after spurt of spunk out of my cock.

We both collapsed side by side, kissing, clutching each other, in realisation that this would be our last time together.

We looked, and both of us were sad.

We dressed, and Vicky left first, before I crept out into the corridor for the half a dozen steps back to my room.

Mary asked if I’d got some good photos, and said, “I had to turn the tv on because the couple next door were making so much noise shagging, I was finding it embarrassing.”

I smiled, but I said nothing.

And so the holiday came to an end. I kept in touch with Vicky from the other end of the country. Maybe we will meet again, who knows!

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