Chapter 2

They had always been small, barely a handful, even for my tiny hands, as I frowned, not liking the view one bit. I wondered what Frank would think, if he saw me in all my nakedness. Would he laugh? I turned, my back to the mirror, as I looked over my shoulder to see. The cheeks of my butt weren't as firm as it was those many years ago, as it got a bit saggy, about the same as my small breasts.

Turning around, my depression got worse, as I took in my complete frontal view. My belly had a paunch to it, maybe sticking out a few inches, and my crotch, overgrown with a thick matting of fine red hair. I smiled, at least I hadn't gone gray there, yet.

I sighed, a bit dejectedly, and stepped into the shower, washing my body off, as I felt that damn tingling sensation in my loins once again. Damn, I wish it would stop. After my shower, I dried and dressed into a sweat outfit, and headed to the kitchen to make breakfast.

He showed up just as I was pulling the hot cakes off the griddle, smiling at me. We said our usual pleasantries, as we ate in silence. And the glances, he was doing it again. I was wondering why, as after I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror, I decided there was nothing to look at.

He said 'Bye', and he was off to work. I only worked two days a week, Tuesday's and Wednesday's, so I just did work around the house. I vacuumed, dusted, threw a load of laundry in, and then I sat and started reading a Good Housekeeping magazine. Well, pretended to read.

My mind was back to what my groin was wanting. I eventually put it down, and sat there, before heading up the stairs. I started to pass Frank's room, but I stopped. The door was wide open, nothing unusual there. I stepped inside, and went to the dresser.

Opening the second drawer, I pulled out the magazine, and closed the drawer, as I was now heading to my bedroom. I ended up sitting on my bed, my back up against the headboard, as I opened the magazine. More pictures, making me blush as I took in the sight. All showing the same blond from the cover, taking the same black man in a different position in all six pictures.

I turned the page, and a story. It was written from the guys point of view, as I started reading it. It told of how the guy, a black guy, seduced and had his way with a white woman. I was fascinated, as I read it, as it went into explicit detail of everything.

And I do mean everything. When I was done with the story, I laid it down, and closed my eyes, and started thinking about Frank. I felt on fire, and for the first time in my life,

I lowered my hand into my panties, and touched myself. Yes, the first actual time. I had never played with myself, at least, not on purpose. When I was about eleven, I did, and was caught by momma, who scolded me, telling me I should never rub myself there. Momma never did explain why. I rolled my finger over my clit, and a wave of pleasure swept over me, bringing a smile to my face. That felt good, and I

naturally tried it again. Three rubs, and I heard someone scream, and it took me a good two or three seconds to realize that it was me. My first self-induced orgasm, and it was the most powerful orgasm that I had ever had.

My body was shaking, as I slowly came down from my sexual high, my chest rising and falling, as I regained my breath. I was amazed, and to think that reading about someone having sex helped me get there. I kept my hand down inside my panties, as I picked the magazine back up, turning the page, another story, with

pictures, of another man, this one white, doing a black woman. It was just as detailed in the happenings of their sexual act, and as I read where she came, so did I, as I gritted my teeth and closed my eyes tightly, a hard cum washing over me once more, as I was wishing it was me getting it on with a man.

With all that stimulation, I fell asleep, not waking for an hour or so. When I did finally open my eyes, I saw it was close to three in the afternoon. I stood on wobbly legs, and returned Frank’s porno to his dresser drawer, placing it carefully back where I had found it. I smiled, as I left his room, and went back to doing my usual routine. Of course, a guilt trip soon enveloped me, and that depressed me

some. Until I brought my own fingers to my face, and caught a whiff of my ripe sex. Yeah, I smiled, remembering how well my masturbation session had felt. I cheered right up, and fixed dinner for us, waiting for his coming home from work.

And once he was home, we sat and ate, and I noticed him looking at me a bit strangely once again. Of course, I was beside myself with happiness, as I felt refreshed, young, and somewhat still wanting some male companionship.

And it was then, at dinner, that I decided I was going to get it. I had no clue on how, but as I smiled at Frank, I sure did know who. I didn't say anything to him that evening, as I sat there in the living room with him, watching a baseball game.

Later, as I laid in bed, I tried coming up with a plan. I mean, I had never done this before. The only seduction that had taken place in my life, was done to me by my late husband. And I was pondering the problem of how to go about it. Tuesday

morning I woke without a clue, as I went off to work after breakfast. Wednesday was the same, but an idea had started. What better way to find a clue on how to do this, than to study my quarry. I smiled, looking forward to Thursday.

Getting out of bed Thursday morning, I showered and had breakfast waiting for him. And once he was out the door, and I felt comfortable that he was gone for the day, I went upstairs to his bedroom. I went through his dresser, looking for clues. I smiled, as I found the same magazine from the day before, plus, six others. All had

covers similar to the first one, and one even was titled MILF. I was amused when I read that it meant 'Moms I'd Like to Fuck'. I wondered if he was thinking that of me. Was he wanting to make me one of his conquests? By now, I was surely

hoping so. I put the magazines back, save one, and went to my bedroom, where I got myself off for hours, before finally getting up and doing some chores, a smile on my face, and feeling a bit lighter on my feet. Is this what sex can do to you? If so, then God, I was wanting more!

But, I still hadn't a clue on how to go about it. Yes, he seemed to be interested in older women, as well as any white woman. Heck, being an average American male, ANY WOMAN! But how do I go about this? How do I get him to notice me more? But then, it hit me. Maybe he already has. The looks he gave me from the other day, after a night with an older woman. Did that put a notion in his head? I

smiled, thinking of the way he was looking at my body. Yes, I was wearing clothes, but nothing revealing to allow him to judge my body. And that was it. That word, 'revealing'. What if I wore something, that showed my body off more? Of course, I had nothing to wear to show anything, as I sat down and contemplated this aspect.

He arrived home at his usual five-thirty-three, and came in from the garage. I had dinner waiting on the table, smiling as we sat down to eat. I informed him, as we ate, that I was going shopping this evening, after dinner. He just smiled, not saying anything. Yeah, shopping. Where does one shop? I headed down the road, the fifty

miles to the mall in Dayton. I shopped for three hours, buying me a few tops, some skirts, some lingerie, and a two-piece swimsuit. I was all smiles as I drove on home, in anticipation of wearing some of these outfits around the house.

That night, for the first time since I was probably born, I did not wear pajama's. Instead, I wore a baby blue one-piece outfit which barely covered my fanny, not to mention my privates, and the brassier on it pushed my breasts, of what I had, up and together. Looking in the mirror, I frowned at first, seeing all those pubes

sticking out from the sides of the outfit. I took it off, and went into the bathroom and shaved my crotch. It was not a trim, as I shaved the whole darn thing. I remembered reading in one of the story's in his magazines on how the man loved a shaved crotch. I smiled, hoping that Frank does as well.

Once done, and after a shower, I pulled it back on, and went to bed. And in the morning, I grabbed my new short robe, and pulled it on, but barely tying it in front. It gaped open in front, allowing my body to be exposed, so he could see what I was wearing underneath. I went on downstairs, and started breakfast. It wasn't long before he was at the table, asking "What we having this morning, Doris?"

I smiled, turning and saying "I thought ham and cheese omelets would be nice."

Oh, the look on his face, one of complete shock, as I turned back around, my robe flying open. I soon had his meal ready, and as I came over to where he sat with his meal, he was having a hard time keeping from looking below my neckline. Yes, I do believe I have the boy's attention. I returned to the stove, and asked "You want milk?"

He replied "Yes, please."