This story is work of complete fiction. Any resemblance to real characters or actual events is purely coincidental and unintended. All characters are (well) over 50. Approx. 6000 words.

Dateline, January 2004. Undisclosed location in Mexico.

They say good things happen to good people.

Eventually, anyway.

Let me introduce myself. My name is Max. It’s actually Jim Maxwell, but everyone calls me “Max”.

I was married, twice, and at age 55 found myself – once again – divorced. At least it was reasonably amicable, and for that I thank my lucky stars. And I also thank my lucky stars for having remained financially sound and in a good place emotionally, a rare streak of luck considering the road I’ve traveled.

My second wife Laura and I embraced naturism, and sought out winter destinations that provided just such an opportunity. Once you spend ten minutes naked and not sitting in a wet bathing suit, you realize the freedom and comfort that brings; and the pleasure of not having cold, wet garments clinging to your skin all day long. Especially if you’re a woman.

Some years prior to my second marital separation, Laura and I became friends with a couple we met on a Caribbean cruise – they were in the cabin next door. We dined with them and became quite close over the course of the ten days we were together. It was our last ‘textile’ vacation; after that we exclusively sought out naturist havens. They appeared to be a few years older than us, he being the most senior of the two.

Gus and Ingrid were their names and they were from Canada. He was of German descent, probably around 70, and she Scandinavian. At the time, I would have guessed her to be early fifties at most; she had long greying blonde hair and wore no makeup that I could discern. For her age, she looked really nice (well, to me anyway) in a bathing suit, and appeared quite fit.

I remember us having long conversations with them that would carry on after dinner, on the deck adjoining our rooms. He did most of the talking of course, as he was hard-of-hearing; and he certainly knew better than I about any subject we found ourselves immersed in.

Ingrid politely kept her silence until he started repeating himself, or just plain ranting, then would interrupt him and suggest another topic. He would look thoroughly disgusted, but always complied with her wishes. In spite of all that, we shared lots of laughs and had a genuinely good time with them, and remembered with much fondness our times together.

When we got off the boat, like many others we befriended on our vacation adventures, we thought we would probably never see them again in the sea of humanity that had by then swollen to over six billion souls.

~ – ~

Fast forward to 2004.

This particular year, I would be going on vacation, but on my own. I chose a very small place out of the way – one that was not even advertised other than by word of mouth on one of the naturist websites I followed. It was privately owned, and had only six self-sufficiency units – they called them ‘casitas’ down there – each with a kitchenette and enough cooking utensils to get by. Rarely was the place fully occupied, according to the sparse yet glowing reviews on TripAdvisor. There was a market and restaurant within reasonable walking distance, and the beach was sufficiently private to accommodate naturists.

Being retired, and disliking Calgary’s winter weather, I initially booked myself in for a month, thinking that if I liked it, I would stay longer. It was somewhere to escape to .. a quiet and warm place to physically and emotionally reboot. And now that I was on my own, my pension $$’s and benefits went a lot further.

When I arrived, almost two hours journey from the airport by bus, there was only one other unit occupied, according to the board in the office. The first name – ‘Ingrid’ – was familiar, and made me think of my old friends, but I didn’t give it a thought beyond that. A short Mayan woman named ‘Mimi’ who barely spoke English showed me to my casita – set back off the beach – and after dropping my two suitcases on the bed, I grabbed a 6-pack of cold beer, put them in my mini-cooler, got naked and headed for one of large and very comfortable adirondack chairs on the beach overlooking the water.

The other lone guest, a woman who appeared to be a little older than me, was sitting in the shade facing the water about 75 feet away. A wide-brimmed hat concealed her face from the angle where I sat. If she knew another guest had arrived, she didn’t reveal it by acknowledging my presence.

The ocean was calling out to me, so after pretty much guzzling down the first beer, I left my towel and my cooler of beer on the small cocktail table, then walked past her and turned to briefly greet her on my way to the water’s edge.

Our mouths dropped open at about the same time. It was the same Ingrid my ex and I had met a few years back on that cruise. Only this time, she was quite naked. And quite stunning. The blonde and grey in her hair had now faded to almost snow white, but she still had a full head of Bayan Escort Antep it.

As Ingrid rose from her chair, I noticed how spry she was, and how shapely and beautiful her body had remained in spite of her years. It was the first time I had seen her without clothes on. She actually looked better than most women twenty years her junior and I was amazed at how youthful and perky her breasts looked. Thank goodness I’d had the foresight to wear those reflective sunglasses, allowing me to take in her beauty without being caught blatantly staring.

In unison, we cried out loud, “Oh my God!” and instantly flung into each others’ arms for a hug. Then, again in unison, we both asked “Where’s Laura/Gus?”, each uttering our previous spouses’ first names.

I spoke first.

“We’re divorced.”

“Gus passed away in August,” Ingrid answered, “complications from diabetes. But he lived a good and long life.”

She smiled, as though the pleasant memories of their life together far outweighed the shadow of his death.

Well, there was so much to catch up on. I pulled my chair over and brought my cooler over as well, offering her one. She happily accepted.

And yes, I took off the sunglasses.

“Cheers! To old friends!” I said, raising my can of Bud.

There was a wide grin on Ingrid’s face as we toasted. I wondered what she was thinking but then realized that this was the first time she’d seen me naked too.

“How long have you been coming here, Ingrid?”

“Gus and I came here two years ago, we were friends-of-a-friend of the owner Celeste, just after she bought this place. Gus was not well enough to travel last year, and so here I am, today. How about you? How long have you been textile-free?”

I went on to explain how Laura and I had been naturists ever since we tried it seven years before, then briefly touched on our separation.

“We’re still on good terms, which is the best we could hope for. I can’t wait to email her and tell her who I’ve met. She’s still with the bank.

“She’s a big shot now,” I chuckled. “Regional manager.”

“Good for her! And you?”

“Haha, now and always, small potatoes. Retired though. Glad I got out while I did. I still consult to supplement my income when I’m back home.”

We mulled over our lives as we sat and chatted away the rest of the afternoon. When my third beer was getting down – Ingrid was still nursing her first – I thought it a good time to get in a quick swim, and piss away all the beer I’d processed, killing two birds with one stone.

I excused myself, turning my body slightly as I walked away, feeling somewhat self-conscious about my semi-engorged cock. Even as we had talked of matters mundane and trivial, images were swirling through my head that I probably shouldn’t even have been entertaining with such a gracious, mature and elegant lady. I swam out about a hundred feet and stayed in the water for a few minutes until my state of arousal subsided, allowing me to have a good long whizz and cool my jets.

I’d forgotten how much I’d missed the Caribbean – its white sands and warm, blue waters – and how healing salt water can be for body and soul.

When I returned it was probably close to five PM, and we still had plenty to talk about.

“Why don’t you come for dinner at my place? I have a large pot of baby ribs in my slow cooker that should be just about done.”

“Are you sure? I don’t imagine you were planning on company for dinner this evening,” I answered. I had planned to be lazy and eat at the restaurant for the first few days, but Ingrid was rather insistent.

“I am sure. There’s enough there to feed me for 4 days. I picked up some fresh vegetables from Omar this morning, so I have lots.” I later found out Omar was one of the traveling fresh fruit and vegetable vendors who supplied the local restaurant.

“Well, why not! Thanks Ingrid. I’ll just have a quick shower and then come and help you out with whatever else.”

“That will be fine. Just come when you’re ready. I’m in number three, right over there,” she said, pointing west up the beach about fifty yards from where we sat.

We both headed back to our casitas and I threw myself into the shower, covered myself in a pareyo and tank top, grabbed my bottle of Appleton Estates and made the short sunset walk down the beach to Ingrid’s.

Those thoughts I’d tried unsuccessfully to suppress came flooding back in to my head – both heads, apparently – as I approached her secluded little corner of this ocean paradise.

This did not feel like just a social call.

I sort of felt as though I was ‘on the prowl’. Yet I was somewhat conflicted inside; how might she respond to any such advance from someone like me, and so soon after her life-long husband passed? Would I frighten her? I certainly did not want to alienate her this early in my stay. After all, we had both indicated our intentions to stay here for a good part of the winter, if not all of it.

As I reached her door I had to stop and take a few deep breaths – glancing down to make sure I wasn’t making a detectable protrusion in my pareyo -before I walked in. I could already smell the tangy BBQ sauce wafting through the oversized screens from inside, and hear pot lids clanging. I silently fantasized about getting some other things clanging too.

‘Fuck, what a pervert I must be, lusting after an old friend’, I thought silently to myself.

Suddenly, a voice ..

“Thought you’d never get here! C’mon in. What’s wrong, are you out of breath or something?”

“Oh no .. I mean yes, I’m coming..” I stammered, scampering up the steps to her front deck and holding the bottle of rum in front of my groin in a futile attempt to mask my somewhat aroused condition. The pareyo did little to cover up my embarrassment. I just smiled at her when I got inside her door, and saw a very warm smile in return.

Ingrid looked even sexier with clothes on. The low cut top, and no bra, drew my attention to her breasts to an even greater extent now than before when we were both naked. If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought she was trying just that – to attract my attention.

“Sit down Max, and I’ll pour us a glass of that rum, I haven’t had it since Gus passed away. Do you like it like I do, straight with a twist of lime on the rocks?”

“Yes, please, but just one rock,” I replied.

“So, it appears as though you have not been with a woman in some time,” she calmly observed, glancing down with a squint at the protrusion in my lap, as she sliced the key lime in two and squeezed half into each glass.

We shared a laugh at my expense.

“No, not since Laura. It’s been a year,” I admitted sheepishly.

Ingrid finished the drinks, handed one to me, then we toasted and drank.

“Well, it’s been longer than that for me.”

I politely waited for her to continue. She paused and thought for a moment, then looked at me, and began confiding the rest of her story.

“Gus had not been able to really do much for the last couple of years, so for me it has been a very long time. But tell me, you are still young. Why are you way out here, in the middle of nowhere? Your chances of meeting anyone here are negligible to zero.”

“I hadn’t really given it that much thought, I guess. Meeting someone, I mean. It wasn’t a priority. I’m self-sufficient, and happy. But I do really miss the company of a woman. I’m still under sixty, and fairly healthy, so yes, the physical desire is still there.”

I realized that I – or rather the booze – was probably talking too much about myself.

“What about you, Ingrid? I have no idea about your age, but you are radiantly beautiful. If I may speak candidly, you must take good care of yourself or have great genes, because you are a very attractive woman. Hence, the effect you’re having on.. me,” I said as I looked down, now somewhat less ashamed by my aroused state.

“I am quite sure I’ve not had that effect on anyone in a very long time,” she interrupted me, continuing “but I am genuinely flattered that you would find someone like me attractive.”

I raised my glass again, and we clinked glasses.

“Oh, on the contrary Madam, I am quite sure you have.”

“And I will tell you – I am just turned sixty-one, but I feel as good or better than I did ten years ago. Perhaps it is the admiration of such a handsome gentleman that has me feeling, as you describe, radiant.”

For several seconds, we sat in silence, regarding each other, our eyes freely wandering without hesitance or shame. I think we were both thinking the same thing.

“We should eat, it is ready. Time to wash up!”

Ingrid rose to serve dinner, then changed the subject as she dished out portions on each plate – telling me what was good to buy locally, what she got from food vendors, and what she got from elsewhere. As we ate, we thought of ways to pool together to save time and money.

Dinner was wonderful, and I insisted on cleaning up while she relaxed and drank more rum.

I excused myself to her bathroom and noticed that hers had a large bathtub as well as a shower; mine only had a shower. I remarked on it upon my return to the kitchen.

“There was no one here when I arrived so I had the ‘pick of the litter’. But don’t fret – you can come over for a bath any time you want.”

We both chuckled over the thought of her having a naked man as a guest in her tub.

“I think I am really going to like it here, Ingrid!” I said, as I was putting the last of the things away.

She rose up from her chair, and came over to embrace me.

“I think I am going to kind of like having you around, too,” she smiled.

“Even if I crash your bathroom?”

“Yes, even if you crash my bathroom,” she whispered in my ear.

As I held her, my thoughts of doing more than just hugging made me feel guilty. After all we had been drinking, and I didn’t want to take advantage. What would she think of me tomorrow?

BUT .. in opposition to any sense of decency that may have come over me, my cock was now raging back to life, and I knew I could not hide that part of myself from her at such close range.

I started laughing, and apologizing, still holding her close.

“Don’t apologize. It has been so long since I have felt that. Please, don’t be shy. Just let me feel you there for a little bit longer, would you?” She asked, looking up at me with genuine affection in her eyes.

What a wonderful, beautiful soul she was. To me in that moment, her beauty was ageless; she appeared to me then as she might have in her prime of life. How long I was transfixed, I do not know. But I heard myself ask if I could kiss her.

She looked at my mouth, then back up into my eyes, smiling again. We came together and just melted into one another; our mouths, our chests, our groins, and my arms around her, pulling her into me.

We stood there groping like teenagers, my hard cock grinding into her belly, until she finally reached down and grasped my there, stroking with her hand; and she spoke softly into my ear.

“Would you like me to help you out with that?”

I was rendered speechless, and I just stood there dumbfounded with my mouth open; searching for but not finding the right words for this particular situation.

“Come here,” she ordered, leading me to her chair, whereupon she sat and drew me close. One tug of the tie on my pareo, and it hit the floor, leaving me naked and proudly erect – and precisely at the perfect level for what she presumably had in mind.

“I didn’t think I’d ever get a close look at one of these again. Especially one this big and handsome. May I … indulge myself?” She asked, looking up into my eyes and licking her lips in a most seductive manner.

“I – I don’t know if it’s..”

“Oh for heaven’s sake Max, we’re adults here;” she said smiling up at me. “Relax and enjoy it as much as I will.”

With that, she began exploring me, lifting up my shaft and examining my ball sac – pulling it this way and that – then nuzzling close and planting little kisses all over me. I could feel the refreshing coolness of her breath evaporate the wetness she left me lathered with.

“Mmm, Max. You smell so good down here; God, it’s been so long..” she said, inhaling as she licked and sucked my balls into her mouth with ever increasing enthusiasm.

I never would have had her pictured doing this to anyone, let alone me. The sight before me counter-indicated any memes I’d previously associated with her – so out of place, so diabolically taboo in some strange way, yet so incredibly erotic to now witness.

My pre-cum was dripping down onto the fingers of her hand holding up my shaft, which she brazenly licked off, while looking me in the eye. She had as yet concentrated strictly on my balls – the main event was yet to come.

“Let me suck your cock, Max?” She asked, her eyes all but pleading with me.

“Oh, yes, please do..” I pleaded, placing one hand at the back of her head. It had been so very long since I’d been in this position with a woman.

Ingrid stuck out her tongue, and – while squeezing my shaft just behind the frenulum – drove it into my slit as far as she could. Feeling something deep in there like that was intensely stimulating, and no one had ever probed me quite like that before.

“Oh, I love the taste of you ..” she said, now engulfing the whole throbbing head of my prick into her mouth. Bobbing up and down, she took me like a pro, with delightfully loud humming and slurping sounds indicative of the pleasure she was receiving in return.

Ingrid, the cocksucker. I never would have pictured it in a thousand years.

I took her head in my hands, and stroked her face lovingly.

“You feel so good, my dear, sweet Ingrid. If you keep doing this, you are ..”

“I want to make you cum,” she interrupted, licking her lips before continuing. “Please keep going. I want you to finish in my mouth. I haven’t tasted a man’s seed for years. Take my head in your hands and fuck my mouth. Don’t hold back – I want it, Max.”

She then latched back on, her intent now confirmed. I was already close to the edge – it would not be long, I thought, as I fucked my cock in and out, slowly at first to gauge her capacity, and to prolong this wondrous event as long as I could.

I listened to her slurp and gurgle as my cock tested her gag reflex on each and every thrust. She was urging me to go deeper, in spite of the grotesque noises coming out of her throat and drool running down everywhere. She didn’t take all of me, but came damn close to it, as I slid in and out of her hungry mouth with decreasing inhibition.

When I reached the point of no return, I saw her eyes open wide and look up at me, as if to urge me on. I cried out loud, literally pouring myself into her as she sucked out everything I had, never breaking the seal of her lips around my shaft.

When we were both finished, there was not a drop of my cream to be seen anywhere. I was licked and sucked completely clean. She took a good five minutes from my initial spurt to finish bathing me, then just nuzzled against me and rubbed her face against my wet and now flaccid cock. I of course encouraged the attention by holding her head against me, stroking her hair and face. She felt so good there, where no one had been in so long.