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morning after a very drunken hens' night in the company of three well-endowed and muscular strippers whilst my maid of honour and two bridesmaids slept peacefully in the next room, BUT... I never cheated on Steve again from the minute I said, "I Do", seven days later, until the day we began our trial separation. I devoted the next twenty years of my life to looking after both Steve and our two children, fighting back my sexual desires and natural instincts, focusing instead on clawing my way up the corporate and social ladder whilst frantically hiding my growing depression and unhappiness as our marriage became a celibate wasteland. I tried to content myself with stolen minutes watching female porn and furtively using a myriad of sex toys specially designed with female anatomy in mind but although they bought momentary relief, they were a piss-poor substitute for the sex life I had loved whilst single.

Talk of a separation began in hesitant whispers once both of our kids were living away from home on a university campus. Steve's willingness to get a FIFO job provided us both with the opportunity of trialling a "soft" separation where we could experience living life as single people again after twenty years of marriage, without having to announce it officially to our kids and extended family. Steve got work on a 4 and 1 roster, meaning we would only have to pretend to our family that we still shared a bed and a marriage one week in every five.

All three of us were at the airport at daybreak to wave tearful goodbyes to Steve on his first swing but I turned down a sympathetic dinner invitation from my daughter for later that day and sped home from work that evening to shower and then spent an inordinate amount of time over my hair, make-up and dress for my first night out as a single woman in what seemed like a lifetime.

I knew that my gift to project my willingness to be seduced and to be fucked by men, had survived the twenty-year journey into my early fifties within a few minutes of sidling into the crowded bar. I fought my nervousness and trembling hands as I bought my first and only drink of the evening, as the rest were provided by hopeful suitors. I literally had my pick of half a dozen hopeful men, even one sweetly misguided kid in his early twenties, and by studiously ignoring the angry glares of the other women in the place, I had a fabulous night as I danced, kissed, subtlety fondled and then jerked off that misguided kid with a thick, stiff and youthful cock in the backseat of his old Toyota Corolla, before later allowing myself to be guided into a much more up-market Audi by a middle-aged business man who had a tell-tale ring of pale skin where his wedding band normally was.

The business-man's cock suffered significantly in comparison to that of the student's that I had held earlier in the evening, but his wallet was far superior and I had no doubt the spa room in the five-star hotel he took me to, was worth sucking a smaller, limper and more wrinkled model than that of my earlier conquest. The bottle of chilled champagne that stood on the rim of the scented and bubbling spa was delicious and by the time we had kissed and caressed each other's naked bodies beneath the enveloping cloak of the warm water, his cock was stiff and ready enough for me to take it easily between my lips and to caress it with my tongue, while my own fingers gently pinched and tweaked my stiffening nipples and clitoris.

The man was no inexperienced or callow youth but the speed with which I inadvertently brought him to orgasm hinted at a marriage very similar to mine in terms of lack of sexual activity and left me no-where near to my own climax as his semen filled my mouth and throat. I ignored my own frustration long enough to cup his pendulous balls in the palm of one hand and squeezed gently while I milked his slowly deflating cock dry as he writhed around in front of me, making sounds of pleasure that I hadn't heard from a man in a long time.

I finally allowed both his cock and his balls to drop gently from my lips and hand before stretching up before him and kissing him deeply with lips and tongue coated thickly with his cum. His own tongue slipped forcefully between my sticky lips as he wrapped his arms around my torso, drawing me tight against his damp chest before allowing his left hand to drop low enough to grasp the ripe cheeks of my trembling arse. I was obviously projecting the correct signals as his right hand also dropped lower, these fingers pushing firmly but smoothly between my thighs and began to fondle my engorged lips and the tip of my protruding clitoris.

Twenty years of sex with the one man, the last half dozen of which were reduced to infrequent, inattentive, unsatisfactory rutting, was washed away in moments as his fingers grew in confidence and dexterity by the second, squeezing my trembling arse tightly whilst stoking my throbbing cunt closer and closer to climax. I shuddered against his touch and he responded with his fingers, lips and tongue. I allowed him to continue to expertly finger my pulsing cunt for a few minutes more as I glanced hopefully at his still shrunken cock, hoping to see signs of a gallant revival.

In an attempt to buy his lifeless cock more time, or perhaps to give it greater incentive, I slowly got to my feet so that my red, swollen lips and clit could be pressed tightly against his flushed and sweaty face and I was delighted when he paused just long enough to chuckle knowingly before pressing his lips against mine and running his tongue over my clit. I gasped in surprised delight as his mouth and exploring tongue sent an uncontrollable tremor throughout my body and it took but moments to realise that I was no longer relying on a stiff cock to make me climax.

I gasped again as the strong fingers of one hand bit tightly into my cheeks, the middle finger slipping between them and gently pushing itself unbidden into my arse, stopping as the first knuckle drew level with the puckered skin around this orifice. Two fingers of his second hand slipped between my vaginal lips and fought his tongue for access to the more sensitive areas of my pussy.

Old, wrinkled and currently flaccid cock or not, this man had a talent for eating a lady's pussy and I was quickly forced to cup his head and press it against my groin, attempting to lock my knees as the rapidly approaching orgasm threatened to force them to buckle beneath me and tear me away from his wonderful mouth and tongue before my own journey was complete.

Sheer force of will kept me on my feet for the final seconds needed to allow the wave of pleasure to break over me as my body spasmed in delight and I pretty much had to sit perched on his strong hands and fingers to keep from collapsing back onto my knees. As my climax receded, my head began to clear with my vision returning, I realised that I now sat on the rim of the spa, his fingers still inside me and a look of happy amusement spread across his perspiring face.

I burst out laughing, succumbing to my own happiness and sexual relief and as he gently removed his fingers from within me, I caught a glimpse of his cock fighting gamely to rise to the occasion once more. My smile grew even wider as I realised the night was just beginning.

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