Episode Details

 I received the sad news recently that my old acquaintance Marion Pevensey had died. I'd known her for many years. She'd been a friend of my parents. I had many memories of her, but one in particular I'll never forget. To this day I remember most of the details, but where I've forgotten I've added what would inevitably have happened.




I was twenty one and still living at home with my parents. One day my father received a telephone call from Marion asking if someone could help fix her bedroom curtains which had collapsed. I was pretty good at ‘do it yourself’, and my father suggested that as I seemed to have time on my hands perhaps I could help her. I was only too pleased.



At that time Marion was in her later fifties. She was a quiet spoken reserved woman with an air of sophistication. Though she was more than thirty years my senior she'd kept her looks and her blonde hair, always trimmed just down to her neck and always neat. Through Pilates and Yoga she had a figure a woman twenty years younger might envy. She'd been widowed a few years so there was no one to enjoy her figure, except lustful boys like me in their masturbation fantasies.

Until I was eighteen and my hormones were surging I didn't pay Marion much attention as a woman. That year my family and Marion's had been on a beach day together. Marion was there in a red swimsuit, slightly daringly low cut between her breasts, high cut at the hips, and somehow making her curves look even more sensuous than her twenty five year old daughter in her microscopic bikini.

Something about Marion that day had driven me wild. I already had a taste for older women in porn. I just couldn't keep my eyes off her in that swimsuit, especially where it bulged over her big breasts and the thin gusset of red cloth between her legs. That night in bed as I masturbated like I did almost every night all I could think of was Marion in that red swimsuit. I'd had a lustful thing about her ever since.

I arrived at Marion's house to find her in a light brown sweater and faded blue jeans. That sweater clinging to the curves of her big firm breasts and those tight jeans outlined her curves almost as sensuously as that red swimsuit. She thanked me profusely then let the way upstairs to her bedroom, with my eyes locked on the outline of her still nicely rounded bottom and the just visible outline of her knickers visible through the taut blue cloth of her jeans.

Fixing her curtains was a simple task and Marion left me to it. I had to scoot her big double bed over a little to get a stepladder to stand on up against the wall. In doing so I disturbed a clear plastic storage tote under the other side of the bed. As I went around to find the lid and snap i