SENIOR -- Controlling the Heart Rate

SENIOR sex -- Controlling the Heart Rate


‘Come along Jona, you’re really becoming a hermit you know,’ commented Stan as he sat on Jona’s veranda sipping on a beer and discussing life in general.

‘I don’t think you have been out mixing with the community since Frances passed away almost three years ago now. Why don’t you come to the social on Saturday night, you will enjoy it. After all it’s just around the corner, you can walk there and you are sure to meet some very interesting people all about our age and...’ he paused momentarily, ‘there are some lovely ladies.’

Stan was in his late sixties and he and Jona, now both retired, had been friends since college. He was very active in the town with a number of communal duties, one of them being the Social Secretary of Green Parks Retirement Village and he had been trying to get his old mate along to a Saturday night get-together for ages now. Shaking his head in disapproval Jona assured him, ‘I don’t want to dance or meet nice ladies, I am really quite happy doing my own thing.’

‘And what’s that? watching telly and drinking.’

A little taken aback Jona defended himself, ‘sure I have a few wines with my meal, it’s an old habit that Frances and I enjoyed for 30 years or so, and I read a fair bit because there’s nothing much on the telly and,’ pausing to emphasize his point, ‘I fish and garden. All up, I probably do more physical stuff than you do.’

‘Just this once, I guarantee you will enjoy yourself and I won’t pester you again.’

‘Promise? never again,’ he paused and with a smile asked facetiously, ‘any rich widows at these socials?’

‘Rich widows!, it’s not money you need you have more than ten of us put together – it’s companionship... female company - otherwise you will become a bore and a cranky old bastard, or should I say an even more cranky old bastard, Ha!’

‘Okay! okay, I’ll come, I’ll come, what time?’

‘Seven o’clock, most of the men wear a tie!’

Jona was glad that was over, Stan had been persistent for weeks now, it was either a social, a bus trip, or a luncheon, anything that was on his calendar. Getting up and opening the fridge door Jona offered his old mate another beer. ‘Here now that that’s settled have a beer and lets talk about the fish they’ve been catching out on the reef, some good Whiting I hear.’

Saturday evening arrived and Jona sprayed a little extra Caribbean Spice aftershave on his shirt collar and his neck. He enjoyed the tangy aroma and hoped some "rich widow" might appreciate it too. A smile lit up his face as a thought of the past – well I am sure Frances won’t mind, he said to himself, she was a social butterfly and stirred a few naughty desires in men’s minds at these sort of gathering.

The Village was quiet as he entered the grounds and after recording his request in the security monitor he continued on ignoring the synthetic synthesized voice.

Stan was pleased Jona had not changed his mind as he guided him into the main lounge where twenty or so people had already gathered. The décor of floral patterns in pastel colors gave the room a pleasant light and airy feel; lounge chairs, couches, and coffee tables occupied the central floor area while other tall lamps stood against the walls emitting a soft glow all of which conjured up an inviting atmosphere of relaxation and friendship.

Jona headed for the bar where two of his fishing mates were discussing their day’s effort, he ordered himself an iced scotch. Sitting there half listening to their fortunes on the reef he gazed around the room mentally recording those he knew and the new comers to the town. His eyes abruptly stopped at one particular lady whom he had not seen before, it was as if magnetism had lured his eyes towards her. She was in her early sixties he guessed and seemed to stand out among the other women, all of which were of the same vintage. It may have been the French Blue suit she was wearing that caught his attention, or it may have been her shapely legs on which she was gamely balancing her glass while listening to the couple seated across from her.

Catching Stan’s attention, he gestured for him to join him.

‘Enjoying yourself are you? asked Stan as he approached, still worrying about his mate’s solitary habits, ‘you should move about a bit more and join the in the conversations.’

Without taking his admiring eyes away from the lady in question Jona replied, ‘introduce me to that lady over there and I promise to join in.’

Stan stared around the room searching for the lady that had attracted Jona’s attention.

‘The one in blue,’ commented Jona being more specific.

‘Oh! she is fairly new, just moved in last week, I’d better be a little subtle about this and find someone who knows her better than I,’ he suggested as he headed off to a group of his old cronies who knew everyone’s business.

As Jona continued to admire the lady in blue she rose from her seat and walked almost aimlessly across the room stopping at one of the bookcases that stood around the walls. Very elegant he thought as he watched her cross the floor, five-foot six or so, weighting in slightly heavy at a about 145 pounds he thought smiling to himself; her fair hair was highlighted with golden streaks artistically sited by her hairdresser.

Jona made his move. On arriving he noticed that she was examining the back cover of Travel Tales of Tuscany.

‘Every been to Italy?’ he asked, and then not waiting for an answer, ‘I went there a few years ago and loved every moment.’

His lead line caused her to turn and smile at him, then with some pathos in her voice she answered in the negative, ‘no it was always one of our dreams, but sadly we never made the trip.’

‘We?’ questioned Jona wanting to know of her married status.

‘My husband and I ...,’ she looked down and nervously turned her wedding ring, she then looked back up saying with melancholy voice, ‘maybe one day I will go.’

Jona took her empty glass and offered a refill to which she agreed. As he departed she sat herself down on one of the two chairs beside the bookcase that were vacant. On returning Jona introduced himself and his status, ‘Jona’s my name, beach bum and fisherman.’

Again she smiled.

‘Cath, or Catherine, I answer to both.’

Continuing she inquired, ‘do you live here? I have not seen you around; although I’m new myself.’

Pleased with the progress Jona went on to give her his life story of the passed decade and that he had retired some five years ago to the house on the point. Then hoping to ensure an on going friendship he suggested that she visit him for coffee...

‘You must come down for coffee one morning I am only about five hundred yards down the beach. My place is open with no fences, the back veranda sits right on the sand.’

Agreeing that it would be a lovely interlude she tentatively accepted. The remainder of the evening passed simply and pleasantly with both wanting to share each others past life and future dreams. They talked of their sorrows, of lost partners, of future travel plans, interests and hobbies, grandchildren and family commitments were all included. Happy and content in their new found world they continued talking through the evening, ignoring attempts by the other guests to divert their attention away from each other. Unfortunately for both the evening came to a close with both agreeing that Jona would walked her back to her villa. On parting she gazed into his eyes and squeezed his arm tightly as she thanked him for the lovely evening. Both knew they wanted more, the urge to press each others body against one another, to kiss... but protocol of by-gone years stopped them both.

Jona left through the gate that led onto the beach and walked along the ribbon of silver sand highlighted by a glowing Moon. He clasped his hands and looking up, knowing she was the Goddess of the night sky beneath which secret loves flourished, he thanked Her.

The following morning he was up early hoping to be on the reef before the amateurs and tourists. However before launching his boat he took time to walk up passed the village hoping he might see Catherine, but to no avail ... probably to early. In fact she had had a restless night, a few more wines than she had counted caused her to wake with a throbbing headache.

The fish were obliging and after catching enough for dinner that night, some for another night and a few for an excuse to visit Cath he headed home, being back by ten o’clock.

After cleaning up and adding a little extra fragrance he headed back up the sand to number 36. Armed with the fish in hand he knocked on the door, time passed but finally Catherine appeared dressed in a casual sarong. Being pleased to see him she gave him a broad smile.

He returned the smile, ‘It’s the fish-man, would you like some today?’

Oh! Jona, what did you make me drink last night? I have been battling this headache all day.’ Opening the door a little wider, ‘come in please I’ll make us both a coffee – I certainly need one.’

The villa was small he thought, but had adequate room for a comfortable lifestyle for one, being about a quarter the size of his house. The white cane furnishings which were complimented by pale blue/green cushions and drapes gave the feel of a beachside holiday home.

The aroma of the coffee, a Turkish blend, tantalized Jona’s nostrils, but not as tantalizing as the view of Catherine’s breasts he captured as she bent down to place the coffee mug on the low table beside his chair. He could feel a stir of excitement tingle in his primary erogenous zone. They were similar in size and shape to his late wife’s from which both gained loving pleasure. In fact she was in many ways similar to Frances whose company he had always enjoyed, who loved to travel and relished in the simple pleasures of life, both physical and spiritual.

They chatted for most of the afternoon before Jona suggested that he light the barbecue in his courtyard and that they grill his cache of fish for dinner. Catherine accepted, offering to bring down a salad about six thirty.

Jona had been telling himself for five years now that did not want to become involved with a partner again and had been avoiding situations similar to the social evening last night. People had made many suggestions and tried to encourage him to give up his solitary confinement, which he had from time to time considered, but concluded he was very happy on his own, thank you. Sixty is an age where things can go wrong physically and retirement villages gave many the security they sought, however it was not for him and he was beginning to regret even his actions of the last few hours.

White slacks terminating at her calf and a yellow top emphasizing her uplifted bosom was her fashion statement for that evening. On leaning over to be kissed on the cheek as she handed Jona a bowl of tossed salad, he could smell Rosemary in her recently washed hair. It was an odor that excited his desire for it was a favorite of Frances’ which he would often detect as she slid into bed at night. Again he felt that twinge.

The whiting fillets, a few shrimps marinated in ginger and garlic and washed down with a classic dry white wine combined to make a perfect evening. Sitting on the veranda they could hear the waves roll onto the sand only yards away and see the Moon slowly traverse the evening sky. Anne Murray completed the fantasy as she sang softly in the background.

Both feeling mellow they walked silently hand in hand down to the waters edge and allowed the waves to lap against their ankles. Breaking the tranquility Jona suggested a swim in the cool waters.

‘I don’t have a bathing costume,’ was the reply with an inflection of surprise, ‘and besides I haven’t swam for years.’

He laughed, ‘I swim without a cossie all the time, it’s real freedom.’

Throwing her head back in a gesture of shock she warned, ‘better be careful or a big fish will bite it off.’

With that comment she turned and ran up the beach with Jona in slow pursuit. Almost at the veranda she tripped or intentionally fell, whatever, Jona took the opportunity and instead of offering his hand he threw himself down onto the sand beside her. Their lips met as if chance had willed it. It was exciting for both to again feel a warm body press against theirs. The deliberate positioning of his body assured that Catherine could feel his virile arousal.

She rolled on to her back and savored his strong hands caressing her, she groaned softly to ensure and to encourage him as she felt his hand travel across her thigh to a previously forbidden goal.

Suddenly their ardor was quenched when a neighbor’s car lights flashed across the beach as it turned the corner. The driver saw nothing but the embarrassed Catherine jumped to her feet brushing the sand from her hair and slacks stating that Jona was incorrigible, ‘your are a naughty man, luring a innocent woman on to this beach of temptation.’

They both laughed and he offered to walk her home.

‘Only to the grounds, my poor heart has had enough for one night, I think my blood pressure has reached new limits.’

Jona laughed, ‘yes I feel a bit flushed myself, next time we will take it slower and have some pills on stand-by.’

Kissing him on the cheek as she held his hands she jokingly questioned, ‘and what makes you think there will be a next time?’

‘It’s on my wish list!’ he assured her.

Moonlight lit up Jona’s bedroom as he woke from a restless sleep, the lustful encounter of the evening had been repeating itself in his mind. He knew he should not be pursuing this tact but his carnal desires seemed to be haunting him in recent months. He could feel his Catherine induced arousal as his fingers wrapped themselves around his elongated shaft. His coital juices were flowing freely as he squeezed and gently slid his hand along it’s length. The tension had built up beyond his control and his sexual being cried out for gratification. His mind darted back and forth between Frances and Catherine, as he visualized their vessels of sexual pleasure. He remembered how charged with passion Frances get and tried to imagine if Catherine would reach such wondrous heights. The raw nerves in his bulbous crown surrendered forcing his contracting scrotum to erupt its warm fluid as he continued to induce the feeling of divine ecstasy.

Now sixty he was pleased that that part of his antimony was still proficient, for he knew many of his colleagues were having difficulties with both their prostates and lack of erection. The local tavern was a now regular source of Viagra jokes. Moreover he knew that some of his other parts were not quite up to scratch, having retired after his second open heart operation.

Monday was an overcast day with high swells predicted for the Bay, with rain to follow during the next few days; so some shopping and a good read were on his agenda. The day had passed quietly and at three o’clock he was laying in a meditative state on the divan in the atrium when he was disturbed by a voice calling his name, it was Stan.

He whispered to himself "bloody Stan", as a head appeared around the corner with him inquiring in his monotone voice, ‘how are you old son? I called in the other day but you were out.’ He delayed his next comment as if searching for a word, ‘and what’s this I hear? you’ve been out chasing widow Anderson at number 36!’ Again he paused waiting for a reaction - of which there was none. ‘Watch that heart of your’s,’ he gave a lecherous chuckle, ‘you might catch her, Ha!’

Jona getting up from his comfortable position smiled saying that rumors travel fast around the old folk’s home, with Stan in turn reminding him that they were not old folk but retirees seeking independence.

Passing Stan a beer he reiterated, ‘Old biddies if you ask me.’

They chatted about the Saturday social and its success, about Tom the town’s butcher for forty years and who had recently been taken to Perth for medical tests; ‘and don’t forget John Quigg’s funeral on Friday, poor old digger,’ said Stan between mouthfuls.

As they chatted Jona saw Catherine walk along the water’s edge and he beckoned to her, in return she waved and indicated she was going for a walk. Jona was partly pleased, releasing him in the eyes of his mate of any suggested close relationship with her.

After a few beers Stan checked his watch and confirmed that he had a few chores to complete before dinner. Jona walked with him to the edge of the road saying he might go on the bus tour to the wineries that Stan was organizing.

On his return to the rear of his house he was delighted to find Catherine standing on the patio wearing a beach-cloak which barely covered a newly purchased swimming costume.

He was pleased with what he saw, her legs were shapely as he imagined from seeing the lower part at the social and feeling the upper regions on the beach last night; they were free of blue marking that trouble many ladies her age. Her tummy was firm and her bust held its contour. Again that feeling of sexual excitation returned, he would have to mount her soon he silently thought. He couldn’t continue this "tug of war" with himself.

‘Coming for a swim? the water feels great, I’ll race you to the buoy,’ was her challenge.

Scoffingly knowing he would beat her, asked jokingly, ‘what’s the prize?’

Wading in to deeper water, ‘I’ll cook dinner.’

Jona removed his shirt threw it on the veranda and ran towards her but she was off. Himself a bit of a thrasher found he was losing ground as she effortlessly glided towards the beacon. He conceded and slowed his pace, thinking he would preserve his energy for another more exciting task.

She laughed as he arrived several minutes later, ’State champion 1957,’ she said confirming her win, ‘you are doing the cooking to night.’

‘Cheated you did, you got a start on me...’ conceding, ‘okay but you bring the wine.’

Storm clouds were gathering on the horizon as Jona turned the sizzling Scotch fillets over on the old iron plate, the onions released their special aroma and the sip of red wine removed the taste of the ocean he had swallowed as he gasped for breath on the return leg.

Dinner finished just in time as the rain drops began to fall heavily on the corrugated steel roof, forcing them to adjourn to the inside living area.

The second bottle of red made them both feel mellow and Jona decided that he would prefer to sit on the floor with his back against the sofa leaning against Catherine’s leg. Although the rich wooden floor-boards were hard, large fluffy scatter rugs gave consolation.

Catherine was now feeling very much at ease with Jona and enjoyed being in his company, she was fond of his casual lifestyle and admired his strong manful character. A strong feeling of desire had been surging through her body since she had met him only a few days ago, her female longings were beginning to erode her previous rigid standards. She had loved her school-sweetheart and husband Mark very much, he had given her three lovely children and provided well for them all. On his death, his accrued super annuation gave her the opportunity to continue on in the custom she had grown to enjoy. Mark, however, had never been a sexual animal, the missionary position twice a week being his maximum level of adventure and need, never conscious of Catherine’s sexual satisfaction. Now post menopausal, but consuming prescribed hormones, her sexual circuit was on full stand-by and she knew there was greater pleasures to be enjoyed. The happenings of the past few days suggested to her that Jona’s appetite would be able to more than satisfy her cravings of the flesh before life with its aging quirks robbed her of the fruits of passion.

As Jona sat beside her feet, sipping his wine he contemplating his next move and awaiting a morsel of encouragement; it was as though she had read his mind... she ran her fingers through his hair. He raised his hand, a sign which suggested she should join him on the floor, showing no hesitation she slid down beside him. He gently placed his arm around her and rolled her over on to the central rug and raised his body upon hers. Positioning his knees either side of her hips he bent over and pressed his lips against hers. In an immediate response she allowed her tongue to slither inside his mouth heralding her expectations.

His trembling fingers fumbled with the shoulder straps of her swimming costume and as he pulled them down, her breasts fell free. She in turn could feel his manhood push itself against her as he kissed her now firm nipples.

‘Oh, that’s so nice,’ she sighed, ’but I think that he too wants his freedom.’

Jona needed no further encouragement, he immediately stood up and undid his belt. Her eyes reflected her excitement as she looked up at his capacious offering. Anxious to give her his love he knelt back down and removed the remainder of her costume, laying her naked. As he sat monetarily admiring her womanly delights she took the opportunity to charge his greed even further by opening her thighs ever so slightly in a gesture of temptation.

His appetite charged with desire to satisfy their lascivious needs he slowly parted her engorged labia exposing a extended clitoris that was begging to be touched. Hoping to take her beyond any boundaries she had previously crossed he encircled it with his tongue and nibbled at it gently with his lips, finally withdrawing them along its length.

‘Oh darling... never before... don’t stop...,’ were interrupted by guttural groans from deep within her throat.

The taste her elixir as it flowed freely from her grotto of passion, and the musky odor that filled his nostrils, fired his fervor beyond his power of control. Elevating himself on his arms his throbbing penis danced above her awaiting her sanction to enter. Seeing his lust she implored him, ‘take me, please, take me now.’

Opening her thighs even further she raised her buttocks from off the floor offering herself to him. With his penis now at bursting point he took it in hand and placed it a the doorway of Eden and pushed slowly. Sliding effortlessly along the passage he tenderly watched Catherine’s face express her delight as she herself pushed down on him. She clenched her hands when it reached the hilt and began to oscillate her body in a coordinated rhythm of natural harmony.

Jona stopped: one, for a breather for his heart beat had raced to beyond its recommended limits, and two, because he wanted Catherine to reach her climax with him.

Catherine opened her eyes and as if knowing his plight, she placed her hand on his shoulder beckoning him down while her lips reaching up for his. Bound together she subtly slid her hand across her clitoris and began massaging it every so slightly with just enough friction for her to continue her flight to the edge of Nirvana.

Almost at the gates she began to contract the muscles of her cervix. Jona could feel her vagina tighten around his shaft and with that sensation alone he crossed the threshold, erupting within her he soared beyond the pinnacle of absolute pleasure. She smiled, a smile of loving fulfillment when she felt his warm seed fill every crevasse of her womb.

Moments later Catherine too reached her goal, gritting her teeth she clutched his shoulders as her taut muscles released themselves shredding her every nerve endings.

Exhausted they hugged each other in their arms as they shared the gift given to lovers by the God Eros.

Next morning Jona woke to the smell of freshly brewed coffee and a hot croissant as Catherine placed them beside his bedside table. Leaning over him she kissed him, first simply on the forehead and then as he pulled her closer upon his eager lips. At the same time their lips met she ran her hand down over the sheet that was covering him and found the reason for the mound that had suddenly appeared. Squeezed him She laughed, saying, ‘later! drink your coffee before it gets cold.’ With lechery in his eyes, he watched her walk around and slide into the other side of the bed. Ignoring her request he rolled over so his body touched hers and passing his hand across her tummy he found the way to her pubic playground.

Both the coffee and the croissant went cold.

Monday morning he went out to check the mail box to find a hand written note from Catherine among the letters.

"Love you XX,

Had to go up to Perth, Urgent will give you a call tonight C xx "

Jona knew that her daughter Jill lived in Perth and thought that she could be ill, or that one of the grandkids were sick. He put the note to his lips and then slipped into his shirt pocket.

There was no call that evening and for the first time in many years, since the loss of Frances’, he felt lonely for it seemed that she had become integral part of his life and... he had no way of contacting her. Depressed he went to bed early that evening.

Tuesday was a perfect morning for fishing and he was torn between pushing his boat out or waiting for a phone call. After much deliberation he chose the former, wishing he had bought that phone with a built-in answering machine or had taken up Telecom’s offer to connect to "Message Bank" – but at that time he just wanted the solitary life.

It was three days and there had been no contact. Beginning to worry, childish thoughts began haunting him - whether she still loved him, or whether she found an old flame in the big city, or if she too herself had become ill. He made some inquiries at the Village to see if she had left a contact number there but drew a blank. Stan suggested that he contact the Real Estate people from whom she had bought the villa. He pondered, taking time to again reassess his lifestyle; does he really want her back? Was it too late in life to promise commitment, would he still have his freedom to fish and travel when he wished? He was very happy on his own before that fateful evening – sure he craved for her body and enjoyed her company and the sharing their dreams and thoughts. Yes he did want to share his life with her, yes he wanted her back.

Jona was in luck, for Catherine had being staying with her daughter just prior to buying the villa and they had her contact number.

Her voice, ‘Oh darling,’ made his heart jump and inflate his spirit, ‘are you alright? I have been trying to ring you but I must have the wrong number or something, I left a message at the village. They haven’t contacted you?

The sad news was that she needed to stay another two or three days with her daughter for she was recovering from a heavy virus and her grandchildren of eight and ten required attention. After re-quoting his telephone number and threatening her with death if she failed to call, he paused trying to recapture a thought that passed through his mind. He did miss her and felt that he could not be apart from her for another three, well, even one day.

‘Tell you what!’ he said, she anxiously inquired, ’yes?’, hoping he may say what she wanted to hear. He did –

‘I’ll drive up this afternoon and register into the Dorrington. I’ll ring you when I get there, probably about three. Okay?’

‘Oh! I do miss you my love, I just can’t wait to squeeze you against me, see you soon... and drive carefully.’

It was two forty-five when Jona walked into the foyer of the hotel, with his attention focused on the reception area he failed to see Catherine walk towards him; he turned and smiled as he heard her voice -‘Wanna girl mister?’

With a reflex action he dropped his overnight bag and threw his arms open, and as she rushed into them, he whispered in her ear - ‘I already have one, thanks!’

Marcus Sventon ~~^..^~~