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A Room with a View

Category: Mature
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More than a year on from his wife’s premature death, Julian found himself increasingly thinking about sex. Adventurous though they had once been, during the later stages of their marriage, and especially during the last months of Joyce’s illness, sexual activity had dwindled virtually to nothing. Julian had learned to go without, to put the idea out of his mind. But now, given his freedom, the old urges were resurfacing ever more frequently.

In theory, there should have been no shortage of opportunity. Julian was fifty-one. He had a successful business as a consultant drainage engineer; he was contracted to advise on a number of major projects in the public and private sectors. Money was not a problem. The funds Joyce had inherited from her father had passed to Julian; once probate was complete, he had sold their house in a village thirty miles from the city and moved himself back into the centre. He took a penthouse apartment close to the business area but with views over the river and beyond. One large room was converted into an office with a smaller annexe for his secretary. With his files and computers installed he was able, when not out on site or in meetings, to work from home.

Socially, Julian’s life wasn’t extensive – the dinner party circuit had only ever had limited appeal – and he was now confronted with the difficulty of finding an outlet for his sex drive. His brother, Edward, a corporate lawyer in Toronto, had telephoned one day to see how he was coping with being a widower. “Never the same woman two nights running, eh Jules?” he’d leered down the line. “We should all be so lucky.”

If only it were that easy, thought Julian. His youngish secretary came in on three mornings a week and a middle-aged cleaning lady on the other two, but he had quickly told himself they should both remain off limits. He’d tried dating agencies but gave up after one excruciatingly boring dinner with a blonde whose years of bleaching should have been buried among the ruins of the singularly uninteresting past which she recounted at length.

The Yellow Pages offered surprisingly long lists of escort agencies but he could envision little satisfaction with someone who was into sex for money rather than pleasure. If not love, at least there should be lust. He surfed the internet but the demand for mature single men wasn’t huge, and what was available didn’t entice him. When the net opened his eyes to Swingers Clubs he actually ventured out to one only to find himself in competition with too many single men almost all of whom were twenty or more years his junior. Group masturbation in semi-darkness while watching three couples writhing on a mattress drove him away.

Naturally, none of this was mentioned during his lunch with Audrey. The last person Julian would want to learn about his physical yearnings was someone who linked back to the hermetic circle he had left behind. It was his own fault that he was lumbered with Audrey. In circulating his change of address he had sent a block e-mail, forgetting that it would reach, among others, his erstwhile acquaintances in the village. That had been compounded by his immersion in a business file when Audrey telephoned. She was coming to town the next day … would be lovely to see him again … was he free, by any chance? Unable to improvise an instant excuse, Julian had offered lunch, and now here they were on opposite sides of the table at I Fratelli, a restaurant more expensive than the occasion warranted. Audrey was loving it.

Audrey Jones and her husband Bob were at the centre of many activities in the village (the inhabitants continued to refer to it as The Village even though it was rapidly becoming a small town). Bob, an accountant, devoted his spare time to designing and building scenery for the local amateur dramatic society. On Sundays he contributed a loud, unmusical baritone to the church choir. Audrey, a career housewife with no children to distract her, helped in the Charity Shop, went to aerobics classes and held coffee mornings. In an attempt to divert her from bringing him up to date with village changes since his departure, Julian made the mistake of allowing her to turn the conversation to his new circumstances.

“We saw from your e-mail that you’ve taken a penthouse near the river. Is it as gorgeous as it sounds?”

Julian conceded that it had its virtues, not least the views. Another mistake.

“It sounds marvellous.” Audrey consulted her watch. “Look, I don’t have anything to hurry back for – would it be awfully rude of me to ask if I could have a look round? is it far?”

Yet again Julian found himself unable to concoct a spur-of-the-moment excuse. “Of course not,” he said. “Let’s finish our wine and I’ll take you – it’s only ten minutes, if you don’t mind walking.”

Audrey didn’t mind at all. On the way, she took his arm and said, “This is awfully kind of you, Julian.” After they had walked a little further in silence, she remarked, “I suppose it’s a bit forward of me asking a single man to take me to his home, but we’re grown-ups, aren’t we?”

When Julian looked down at her there was no sign of coquetry, merely a statement that meant what it said, no more, no less. “Yes,” said Julian, “I suppose we are. Whatever grown up means these days.” He wondered how it might have been were they both twenty or thirty years younger. Probably Audrey would have been quite pretty then. In middle age, conservatively dressed, hair neatly fashioned, gold-rimmed spectacles, unobtrusive make-up, she was still – his mind searched for a word – well, presentable.


“My word, you have done well. It’s quite breathtaking, isn’t it?” Audrey was standing at the penthouse window gazing at the panorama spread out below.

“It’s awful to say so, but I’ve got used to it now. Some days I hardly notice it.”

“And you’ve nobody to share it with?”

“Share it? No, not really.” Was the question prompted by mere curiosity, he conjectured. Or could it be …? He chose not to explore the idea. Instead, he began to point out landmarks, churches, bridges, a new monstrous skyscraper. In doing so, Julian was standing slightly behind Audrey, pointing over her shoulder. That was when he became aware of her hand reaching round to touch his thigh. For a moment he didn’t move and they fell silent. Audrey’s head tilted back to rest lightly on his shoulder. Her hand inched sideways to his groin. His mind returned to the thought he had dismissed. Could it really be that this woman from his innocent past, a paragon of village rectitude as he had always thought, was trying to seduce him? It certainly seemed so. But did he mind? An involuntary erection straining at his zip gave him his answer.

Audrey sighed and half-turned to face him. “Julian, dear, before this goes any further, I think we should talk.”

Mute, he allowed her to lead him to the sofa. They sat at opposite ends, facing each other, Audrey with her hands folded demurely in her lap. She took off her spectacles. “I only need these for long distances,” she said. “You are close enough – and perhaps we can be closer. But first, if you will forgive me asking – when you say no-one shares your lovely view, does that mean you are still pining for Joyce?”

Julian paused before replying, trying to guess once again where he was being led. Eventually, he said simply, “No. Not any more.”

“And there’s no new woman in your life?”


“Then – in a way – we are … how can I put it? Two of a kind.”

“But Bob – ”

She cut him short, reaching forward to put a hand on his knee. “Bob isn’t a problem.” She corrected herself. “No, that’s not strictly true. Bob is a wonderful husband to me. I couldn’t wish for a kinder, more considerate person to spend every day with. Except …”


Audrey sighed. “To be honest with you, Julian, sex was never a major interest for Bob. It’s not that we didn’t try and for a while it was – well, I suppose you could say satisfactory. But never more. Never … exciting.”

“That could be true of many couples.”

“You’re probably right. But a while ago I made up my mind. Sex with Bob had just stopped. And I wasn’t ready for that. My body was telling me something else.”

He held up his hand before she could explain. “If you’ve decided to do something about it behind Bob’s back, I don’t think I could be what you need.”

“Not at all. I couldn’t do what you’re suggesting. And, anyway, I would have been disappointed if you were prepared to do that. But we talked about it, Bob and I. It wasn’t easy, because he would have much rather not discuss it. However, I made it absolutely clear how I feel about him and that nothing was going to change that. But I didn’t want to feel that sex was over for the rest of my life.”

Julian had to admire the calm way in which this outwardly ordinary woman looked him in the eye while revealing the secrets of her intimate life. He waited for her to continue.

“I won’t bore you with the details, but this is what we agreed: I could be free to have a relationship to satisfy my desires. Of course, it had to be safe in every way, health not least. It had to be discreet – obviously not in the village. And Bob didn’t want to know anything about it – in fact, wouldn’t want to know whenever it happened.” At last, seemingly relieved to have ended her explanation, she sat back and smiled.

“So how is it working? What number am I?”

For the first time, Audrey lost her composure. She paused before replying. Still holding his gaze, she spoke quietly. “Julian, my dear, I have no ambition to become the whore of Babylon. There are no numbers. Just you. And I can’t tell you how long it took me to pluck up the courage to ring you.”

He’d been boorish and he recognised how he had hurt her. “I’m sorry, Audrey. I didn’t mean it that way. But – ”

“It’s all right. Why should you have known? The fact is, the more I thought of you, the more you seemed to represent my only hope. I don’t know many single men. I wanted someone of my age who wouldn’t despise me for what I am. You see, I remembered you as you were back with us – always kind and courteous. I liked you then and though I know this is different, I did wonder after … if now you were alone, you might be in need much as I am.”

Suddenly, he understood the transparent candour with which she spoke and her artlessness touched him. “To be truthful, Audrey, in this circumstance I just don’t know.”

“Would you like to try?”

“I think I might.”

“Then,” she said, smiling now, “it’s time you took in another view in this hideaway of yours.” As she continued to speak, Audrey began to unfasten her blouse, one careful button after another. “I hope you will feel this shouldn’t be rushed. We don’t know each other at all – not in this way. And it has to be good for both of us. Can you – go slowly?”

This time Julian returned her smile. “I have to find out. I suppose it depends to a certain extent on you, on how – can I use your word? – how exciting you will be. But I’ll do my best.”

She had undone the last button. Removing the blouse, she set it to one side. She wore a bra in a colour Julian would have called mauve. It followed the blouse, revealing breasts of medium size that he saw had needed little support. As though reading his mind, she cupped them in her hands and teased the dark nipples between finger and thumb. “I try to keep in shape. The aerobics help.” Nodding towards him, she added. “I see you approve.”

Following the direction of her look, he glanced down to realise that almost unconsciously he had opened his trousers and was stroking his penis.

“Good, Julian. Now tell me how you like the view.” Audrey slowly pushed the hem of her skirt above her knees and along her thighs beyond the tops of her stockings. Parting her legs, she revealed knickers in the same mauve colour.

“I think it’s the nicest view I’ve seen for a long, long time.” His penis was hard in his hand.

Audrey rose to her feet, unfastened a clasp and stepped out of her skirt. Julian struggled to remind himself that little more than an hour earlier this woman had been making small talk over lunch without giving the slightest hint of what must have been in the forefront of her mind. Looking at her now, wearing only knickers and stockings, posing for him a little shyly but without affectation, he felt perhaps for the first time how very desirable she was.

“The thing about this view, of course,” she said, “is that you don’t just have to look. You’re allowed to touch.”

No further invitation was needed. He reached out, took her hands and drew her to him. Seated, his face was on a level with her waist. His tongue drew little circles on her skin. His hands went behind her, cupping her buttocks, revelling in the erotic sensation of rich silk against softly yielding flesh. The temptation to remove the last garment was easy to resist. He had promised to go slowly and every prolonged minute was unalloyed sensual reward.

Audrey seemed instinctively to understand. She said, “I like the way you touch me. Would it be good for you like this?” She arranged herself face down across his lap, her bottom slightly raised, her legs a little apart. Julian’s hands continued their exploration, fondling the admirably tight orbs, pushing the knicker material into the crack between, letting his fingers delve further until they encountered the dampness in the crotch before returning to start the journey all over again. Subtly, he varied his approach; fresh pressure elicited from Audrey a sigh of pleasure; stretching the knickers until they were taut across firm flesh was greeted by a murmur of approval. When he ventured inside a knicker leg to trace a lingering line from her bottom to the lips that would be his ultimate delight, an involuntary tremor told him that her arousal continued.

Eventually, she lifted herself from her prone position to look Julian in the face. “I wish I could tell you how sexy this is,” she said. “I just know it’s going to be good. All of it. But I mustn’t be selfish. It’s about time I wasn’t the only one undressed here.”

Once her nimble fingers had removed Julian’s shirt, trousers and boxer shorts, she nudged him back on to the sofa. “Time I gave you a little of the pleasure you’ve just given me,” she said. She knelt in front of him and took his circumcised penis in a cool hand. The engorged head was subjected to lengthy appraisal. Slowly, she bent and kissed the tip. Her tongue emerged and lightly caressed the sensitive underside. For a moment Julian sensed that she was weighing a decision. Determined though he had been to keep Bob from his thoughts, he couldn’t help wondering whether her experience with her husband had included fellatio. However, if there had been any uncertainty on her part now, it was swiftly dispelled. Audrey opened her mouth and engulfed his shaft. Within seconds she was sucking greedily.

The effect was wonderful but it wasn’t long before he was aware of the danger. When he put his hand against her forehead and eased her away, she looked up in dismay. “I’m sorry,” she gasped. “Wasn’t that good?”

“My dear, it was superb fo me. But we were about to make too much progress too soon. I need to be in a proper state to please you for a while yet. But maybe I can return the compliment without the same kind of complication. Would you like that?”

“Very much. And, by the way, I suspect I don’t have your problem. So if you think I’m nearing the edge, please don’t stop.”

It was time for the knickers to come off. Julian took his time, fondling Audrey’s bottom yet again as he worked his way to the waist band. The expensive mauve material slid slowly down her thighs to the floor. He motioned for them to change places, but Audrey had other ideas. “Now we’re getting to the serious part, it would be nice to be completely comfortable,” she said. “Somewhere you must have a bed we could try?”

“Yes, of course. You’ll have to forgive me – this is as much unknown territory for me as it is for you. And you’re having such an effect on me I’m forgetting my manners. Come.”

He took her hand and led her to his bedroom. The bed was large, the mattress firm but not too hard. When he turned back the covers crisp white sheets were revealed. “Pillows,” said Audrey, now more at ease, more comfortable taking charge of a situation she had so long anticipated. “Do you have extra pillows?” When they were produced she arranged them in descending order, so that when she lay down one was under her head, two in the small of her back, three under her bottom. Drawing up her knees, she held them apart by gripping her ankles.

“Another glorious view,” said Julian, bending to his task. He grasped her buttocks with both hands and surveyed the secret entrance surmounted by a pelmet of fine hair. The lips were puffy and already glistening without any contact from him. Experimentally, he allowed the fourth finger of his right hand to seek the tiny anal aperture, but Audrey gently denied him access. “Not yet,” she said. “I’m not sure if I’m ready for that. But please don’t be offended. Perhaps next time.”

Next time? he thought. Was she already set on making this a recurring experience? Well, the future could wait. He slid two fingers into Audrey’s vagina, having first moistened them in his mouth. There had been no need. Within the mysterious folds there was slick wetness in abundance. Audrey sought to prise herself more widely open, pushing forward with her pelvis as he began alternate withdrawal and penetration with his fingers. Next he added oral stimulation of a protuberant clitoris. He began slowly and tenderly, matching the tempo of his manual rhythm, then gradually increased the speed and force.

Everything was guesswork. Unwittingly, she had almost made him ejaculate in her mouth; too eager, he had been precipitate with his anal invitation. Now he was lapping at her most sensitive area with no previous experience to guide him, no knowledge of what might best achieve Audrey’s objective. An answer soon came. Small twitches of her most intimate muscles and the sound of rapid breathing told their own story. That was reinforced when she released her ankles to grasp the back of Julian’s head, pressing his mouth against her opening. He strove to be faster and firmer with his fingers. Her juices were seeping on to her inner thighs. When the climax arrived a huge uncontrolled convulsion spread from her groin throughout her body until she collapsed, crying out between gulps for breath, “Julian … Julian, darling … that was … just … wonderful.” And when she had recovered some composure, “Thank you, my dear, thank you. I’m so pleased you didn’t stop. I wouldn’t have known how to bear it. But don’t worry. Give me a minute or two. There’s more – isn’t there?”

There was. Soon Julian found himself kneeling beside Audrey’s head, feeding his penis into her mouth while pinching her nipples between finger and thumb; he remembered she had stimulated herself in the same way when she first removed her bra. When the combination of tongue and lips threatened to become too exciting, he changed position, still kneading the nipples but using his other hand to work on her clitoris.

“When you were … down there,” she said, “did I taste good?”

For answer, he opened her vaginal folds, collected a generous sample of her juices on his fingers and then held them to her mouth. “Yes,” she said when she had licked them clean, “Very good. But I don’t think I can wait any longer. Can you do me now? Properly, I mean.”

Her lack of any basic vocabulary – or, at least, if she knew the words, her reluctance to use them – served only to increase Julian’s amazement at the contrast between this suburban housewife’s conservative outward demeanour and the raging desires of her body. He found it oddly arousing. And if she was ready, which she undoubtedly was, so was he.

There remained the delicate matter of condoms: a commodity he didn’t keep in stock. When he told her, she shook her head. “No. No need. I certainly don’t need them any more – never liked them much, anyway. And I know all about the health question. But if you had answered differently when I asked you if there were any other women in your life we wouldn’t have got this far. So no, we don’t have to worry. And I think that’s nice. Please go ahead just as we are – I want to feel the real you.”

To begin, he asked her to kneel with the little pile of cushions supporting her stomach while lifting her bottom for his inspection. He would have liked to apply his tongue to the little pink hole but, remembering her earlier reticence, decided not to risk breaking the mood of rapidly rising carnality. He widened her knees slightly until her vulva could be seen, the labia still wet from her previous endeavours.

It would have been simple to plunge the full length of his penis inside, but instead he chose to tease her – and himself – by making the insertion by small degrees, pausing as he did so. Size had never been something to engage Julian’s attention, but he supposed he was about average – whatever average was. By the time his offering was completely absorbed by Audrey’s viscous interior, it was plainly enough because she told him so. “My dear, that is so, so good. Please hold it there for a moment.” He did so, luxuriating in the sensation. After a while, though, he told her, “It’s good for me, too. But would you like me to start moving now?”

Yes, she would. And so this curious copulation progressed: a middle-aged man and woman almost unwittingly finding their way towards a mutual pleasure that was emotional as well as physical; and all the while the most basic needs were requested and diligently delivered to the accompaniment of verbal exchanges that would not have been out of place at one of Audrey’s coffee mornings.

The pace of his thrusting drew frequent approving comments. The sound of his groin slapping against the flesh of her bottom seemed particularly arousing for her. But again, Julian was aware of approaching crisis. He slowed, grasped her hips to hold himself in place for a few moments and then withdrew.

Uninvited, Audrey turned on to her back, scrabbling the pillows into place beneath her again. “Like this?” she asked. “Yes,” he replied, “just like that. You’re ready, aren’t you?”

“I’ve been ready since we walked in the door. The waiting has been delicious, but I’m sure the best is still to come. Please take it as slowly as you can – though I’ll understand if … if it goes wrong.”

Julian discovered that he fervently did not want it to go wrong. This woman who had been little more than a passing acquaintance had come to him with a deep inner need and had somehow found the courage to express it; in seeking to have it fulfilled she had offered herself with unstinting generosity for his pleasure, too.

Guiding himself into her, Julian summoned every ounce of concentration to prevent himself giving way to the urges generated by the contraction of her muscles around his rigid shaft. Once he thought he was sufficiently in control he began moving inside her, absorbing her reciprocal co-operation. Instinctively, she matched his tempo, making small sounds of pleasure as the pace and the forcefulness increased. They experimented with changes of position. Audrey rode on top, one hand grasping a nipple, the other titillating her clitoris; a strategic swivel of a dresing table mirror added visual excitement; she piled pillows under her stomach so he could ply her from behind; they switched to a scissors coupling, delighting in the opportunity that gave for them to take turns in stroking her protruding nub, now glistening with her juice.

From time to time Julian found himself murmuring, “Steady,” while they both remained still until his composure returned. But with each resumption he was aware of the growing insistence from his testicles to deliver their load. They had returned to missionary position when Audrey, conscious of how great the effort was becoming for him, said, “It has to happen soon, my dear. Press against me while I move – it won’t take long. And then as soon as I come, don’t hold back any longer.”

As she spoke, she began to wriggle, a series of subtle undulations to create the friction at the tip of her clitoris. Inexorable messages coursed throughout her nervous system until, in a great ecstatic convulsion, she clutched his buttocks, bucked and twisted, held him inside her until she knew his release, too, was unstoppable.


The following week they agreed to skip lunch. Audrey came straight to the penthouse and within minutes they were naked on the bed. But it wasn’t an unqualified success. The exchanges were feverish and sensual by turns and they both came. It was afterwards though that, lying side by side, they agreed there was already more to their relationship than sheer lust; they wanted to build on the unselfish intimacy of their first time. They decided to reinstate lunch at I Fratelli the following week. Audrey had explained that she could meet him every Thursday afternoon if he wished, which he unequivocally did. What excuse she made to Bob he didn’t enquire. Did Bob guess what her regular absences meant? Did Bob want to guess? Julian preferred not know. He recognised that, this one aspect apart, Audrey was totally committed to her husband. And that was enough to know. No matter what anyone else might think, it seemed to work.

There was one small difference at the next lunch. Instead of facing each other across the table, Audrey insisted on sitting at Julian’s side. The reason became apparent as soon as the waiter had taken their orders and departed. Taking his hand in hers, she slid it under the napkin on her lap where she contrived unobtrusively to raise the hem of her skirt until his fingers met cool flesh. When they had lingered briefly, she removed his hand and smoothed down her skirt. Between courses, she repeated the invitation but took evasive action when his exploration moved higher.

“What I like,” she said, “is the service here. Nothing is rushed It’s nice to enjoy one course and then pause before the next. That’s the kind of service I like.”

“Yes,” said Julian, “I share your taste.”

“Taste,” she said. “I remember.” Her smile was part recollection, part promise. Back at the penthouse, the promise was amply fulfilled, the sex even more varied than before, richer and more satisfying for the care each took with the the other.

The Thursday afternoon rendezvous soon became the focus of Julian’s week, eagerly anticipated, fondly recalled during the intervening seven days. Occasionally it proved impossible to escape the demands of a client and seven days stretched agonisingly to fourteen. But after almost a year of regular bliss, they were facing a longer separation. Bob and Audrey were about to fulfil a long-standing commitment to visit relatives in Australia. They would be there for three weeks and then would stop off in Hong Kong and Singapore on the way back.

“Will you miss me?” Audrey asked after their final session before the unavoidable hiatus.

“More than I can tell you.”

“But what about sex?”

“I’ll be as patient as I can.”

“You don’t have to go without, you know.”

“Maybe, but it’s not a lot of fun on your own. Especially after what I’ve grown to expect from you.”

“Julian, dear, what we have is very special. And it will be just as good when I get back. But I have a suggestion – if you like.”

“Such as?”

“I could ask Lydia to be my understudy.”

Startled, Julian said nothing.

“You remember Lydia?”

“No. Lydia who?”

“Roberts. She teaches modern languages at the grammar school. You probably met her at somebody or other’s drinks party.”

“If I did, I can’t remember. But anyway – ”

“Look, let me tell you. Lydia and I do aerobics together and during the holidays we often have coffee together. Which is how I know that she has been having an affair with another teacher. Lydia was always hoping he might leave his wife but it never happened, and now it’s all over. The other day she told me in confidence that what she misses most is the regular sex. Do you see what I’m getting at?”

Julian thought he did. And he thought that later on he might just put in a call to his brother in Toronto.

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