The Hot Older Woman in Apt. 2-D - Sex Stories

The Hot Older Woman in Apt. 2-D

Since we live in a small ski town in Idaho, I've gone ahead and changed our names so no one will recognize us. It's a cool place to live, but everyone knows everyone so I will change just enough. In a town this size, you mix and match with all kinds of people that you normally wouldn't. We have a lot of events and festivals all year so you get to work with and meet everyone in town at some point. I was on a set-up crew for an annual event with an older sassy lady named Edna, but due to her firecracker personality and thick southern drawl she was known around town as Dixie Eddie.

We had worked on this crew for several years and had gotten to know one another well enough as time went on. Well enough to be familiar, but not in a flirty way. She was like everyone's grandma on the team, you know? She had to be 35 years older than me, at least, and as a macho 30-year-old guy, I just wasn't seeing her like that. She was sweet, sassy, confident and, well...old. Everyone liked Eddie, but you treat women like that with respect.

One night at the end of the summer, I was out having some beers with a pal and we left the bar just before midnight. As we were passing the art gallery next door, I noticed the lights were still on, and there was loud music playing inside. My friend headed off, but for some reason, my curiosity got the better of me and when I saw Eddie inside dancing around with a glass of wine in her hand, I had to find out what was going on! What a crazy party I had ...

... stumbled onto!

I rapped on the glass and Eddie whirled around to see me smiling and waving there. She almost laughed and zipped straight on over to let me in.

"Oh, hey Ricky!" She sort of blurted out, and hustled me inside. This was one of those fancy-ass ski-town art galleries that sold $20,000 paintings of the mountains for a rich jerk's 3rd house. The lights were off like the gallery was closed, but on like someone was working inside. Not unusual in itself, but it was near midnight and these places normally close up around 8pm.

"Having a party?" I asked with a grin. She obviously was.

"The rich jackass who owns this place fired me today, so I've decided to drink all of his most expensive wine while I pack up my things!" she declared triumphantly. That got a good laugh out of me. Jobs in this town are easy to come by, but quality employees aren't, and he was letting go of a pillar of the community.

"Well hey, fuck that guy!" I said, helping myself to a glass of his 1952 whatever-the-hell-it-was. And we drank and laughed and she packed up her stuff. I could tell that she was upset, but also that my validation made her feel instantly better. No one likes getting fired. She said that she'll be alright but could probably use a hug, and I obliged. I'm easily a foot taller than she is and it was easy to wrap her up in my long arms and give her a little squeeze. There was nothing strange or awkward about it.

But something in that moment clicked. The lights, the ...