Never Too Old Part One: Take A Picture
She thought nothing was left for her after the kids left the roost.

I took a deep breath and stared at myself in the mirror. ‘I can do this,’ I thought.
At the ripe age of forty-eight, I never thought I would be one to take a picture of myself in the mirror to send to someone.
I stood upright and looked at my body. My brown hair had a few gray strands, and a few wrinkles were starting to form on my face, primarily due to the stress of being married to him.
Christopher, my husband, had turned fifty-four, and his new passion for online gaming, especially golf simulations, had taken over any passion he had for me.
Our kids had flown the coop, and we were now empty nesters in this big house. I had asked if he wanted a divorce, and his answer was to shrug at me. That was his answer to everything: did he want dinner (shrug), should we go out (shrug), and were you cheating on me (shrug)?
I hoped the last one was true; maybe I would understand why he was still sticking around to shove a new mistress in my face.
Christopher, in his youth, was a passionate man, making love to me at the drop of a dime; now, he didn’t want anything; he even started to sleep in the guest room, stating our bed was too hard on his back.
‘You’re stalling,’ I thought.
“Fine,” I tossed my hair to the side and aimed my phone camera at the mirror.
I took the photo; curves, rolls, and stretch marks were all captured. I turned around and did the same.
“There!” I said as I looked at the pictures.
I remembered what he said: no filters, no retakes, send it.
My friend Joyce had turned me onto a website for older people to talk and chat. It was for locals in this state, which is a big state, but I didn’t feel like talking to people all over the nation.
It started as harmless fun, but I started talking to one man in particular. Nearly every day, we talked online and through the messenger app. He brought something to my life that had been missing.
‘Sent,’ I put on my clothes and left the bathroom.
I had never taken a picture of myself like that; it wasn’t nude, but it was very close, as close as I felt comfortable with.
‘I see and I am very happy,’ was the quick reply.
I sat in the living room and heard Christopher swearing and cursing in his ‘playroom,’ as he had called his office.
He was retired and spent most of his time on his computer playing that damn golf game or a poker game.
‘We have to meet,’ he sent.
‘My god!’ I thought as I looked at the photo he had sent.
I knew my online crush was a black man, something Christopher or my family would never approve but it happened so fast.
He was naked in the photo, and he was built like a stud. He had told me he loved going to the gym, and even at the age of fifty-two, he looked damn good.
‘I don’t think you would approve of what I look like,’ I sent back.
‘Meet me,’ he said.
He sent another text, and it was an address not too far from the bar I told him I liked to go to, just me. It was a place I went to unwind.
I wanted to say I couldn’t go, or this was going too fast.
“Going out,” I yelled after getting dressed.
There was nothing from Christopher. He probably didn’t hear me or didn’t care.
~ ~ ~ ~~~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I pulled up to the large hotel and tried to talk myself out of what was bound to happen. I was meeting a man from the internet at a hotel.
I walked into the lobby, and there he was, standing tall and handsome. “Hi,” I said as I approached.
“Denise,” Robert said with a handsome smile as he took my hand.
The moment we touched; it sent a shiver across my entire body.
He was very handsome, and I saw many women stare at him as we walked to the elevator. I was an ordinary, average-looking woman, huge all around, and I had grown accustomed to the stares of disgust as people looked at me.
I was what the internet called an SSBBW. I had tried to lose weight, but nothing ever worked. I would lose a few and then gain it right back. I ate to satisfy my need for attention, something I didn’t get at home.
“I….” I opened my mouth to say as we reached the room.
Robert put a finger over my mouth and led me inside.
His hands were all over me as we got inside; he tore off the layers of my clothes, revealing my body to him.
I had never felt this way before, and it was getting hard to breathe, harder to breathe as he kissed his way down my enormous body; his head disappeared between my legs, and that’s when I felt it.
His tongue was inside me, then a finger, then two. Christopher had never done anything like this, not after our first child.
I gripped the sheets as Robert dove into me. I felt feelings and pleasure I had never felt; it started slowly, but then it increased. I didn’t know if I would ever feel like this or if I could. I always heard about multiple orgasms, but I just thought it was for normal women and that I would never experience it.
After the first one came, another was right behind it, then another.
“Fuck me!” I yelled as Robert moved his body on top of mine.
He fucked me hard. His cock was deep inside me. He had my huge legs on his shoulders as he fucked me.
He squeezed my enormous breasts as he fucked me.
Then he turned me over and fucked me from behind. Christopher hated how huge my ass had become, but Robert slapped it, grabbed it, and fucked me like a play toy.
After a short break, he did it repeatedly; he used me, and I let him. He filled me with his cock and his cum multiple times and from various positions.
I smiled at him as he started putting on his clothes. He smiled at me as he talked to his wife, Rebecca.
I put my clothes on, and we parted ways.
I snuck back into my house shortly after midnight. The glow from the screen in the game room told me Christopher was still playing his game.
‘Good for him,’ I smiled.
He had his passion, and now I found mine.
About the Creator
Alexander Martin
I like to write long, detailed, fictional erotic stories that are interracial in nature. I like writing stories that have a beginning, a middle, and an end.
You can find all my other social links here.


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