Steak & BJ After Decades Of Neglect - Sex Stories

Steak & BJ After Decades Of Neglect

... males around" (one of her favorite phrases).

All the girls at the gym jokingly called her "V for Violet" (as if "V for Vendetta"), because she kept the tuft of dark hair above her pussy shaved as if to make up a capital V. Perhaps only I knew the real reason: a few years after the girls' births, the gynecologist told her that it was necessary to remove a fibroid from the uterus, using a laser. Because of the particular location of the fibroid, she made two small incisions, one in the center and one on the right, and over the next few months, we had to shave the hair to spread ointment against keloid formation. Indeed, the V was nice to look at, and even after the scar was completely healed, the two of us kept the habit of shaving the hair to form a V. The color of the hair changed over the years, from auburn red to strawberry blond, but the dark color of the V always remained constant. To me, in particular, it looked like she had not aged a single day, and she did not have a single white hair.

Also, Trudy was the daughter of Violet's best friend, and she was friends with both of our daughters. I guess "the girls," mothers and daughters, went to the pool, saunas, and massages together, not underestimating sessions at the beautician. It is rarer for males to have opportunities to show themselves naked, beyond sports showers (or at least, this is my experience: others will have a different perception, I don't know).

The significant element is that it was not a shock ...

... to Trudy to see Auntie Violet naked. The only reason the girl was amazed was to see her wearing sexy lingerie that no one in the gym imagined her wearing (the raging feminist, self-defense teacher). Oh well, perhaps the most surprising element was the handcuffs on her wrists. If I listened carefully, Trudy's questions were not about the stockings, but about the handcuffs.

#####

I tried to listen. I thought, "Live in the present: no more of the past."

Trudy had said "Are you in trouble, Aunt Violet? Do you need me to call 911?"

My wife giggled, "I was your teacher in self-defense classes at the gym, remember? It's no problem, my husband and I are celebrating Valentine's Day 20 years late, maybe 22. It's okay. You are a nice girl to worry about, but it is not necessary. Remember my motto, which I used to repeat in self-defense class, "Yes, I'm a damsel, I'm in distress. I can handle this. Have a nice day."

Trudy joined in the enunciation of the motto: "I can handle this. Have a nice day."

I heard in the girl's voice a note of serenity: she felt relieved.

Trudy chuckled. "Meg from "Hercules": drop some knowledge for us..."

Violet moved a step or two, for I could hear her heels clicking on the hall floor. She had probably turned around to show her handcuffs and reassure Trudy. "You see, they're just plain Velcro handcuffs I wanted to, I could free myself right away. But I'm making a Valentine's Day present..." (I heard the sound of Velcro being ripped off, ...