Sex stories, mature, Young man starts a fruitful relationship with an older woman… Our family spent two weeks every summer at a seaside holiday camp. We had been going there for years and knew most of the families who also took their holiday over that same two week slot. There were heaps of kids and the adults all enjoyed socialising with each other.
At eighteen I was one of the older of the “children” in the group which was good in some ways but a bit of a drag in others. Being the oldest of four in my family generated one very substantial perk. We had an 18 foot power boat which we parked at the end of our motorhome. I was able to use it as my bedroom at night. This level of privacy was pretty rare in a camping environment and I used it to good effect, staying up late reading and listening to music.
The other families were a pretty typical middle class lot. There was one couple who were a little different however. Bob and Briar Waterman were the only couple without kids. He was in his mid forties and she must have been around ten or more years younger. They were opposites. Complete opposites. He was brash, arrogant and over bearing and she was quiet, warm and gentle. It really irked me to see him belittle her in public. Once, when she had done something to annoy him I remember him loudly calling her a “titless wonder”. While it was true that she was quite flat chested, to hear a husband pass that sort of comment out loud, in front of children no less, was shocking. I also remember him calling her a “barren bitch”. She was actually very attractive. Her short blonde hair framed the face of an angel and, apart from the lack of firepower up top; she had a very trim but curvy figure. She was only about 5 foot 2 inches tall. I made a point of snatching as many side glance looks at her as I could get away with.
One day I was playing chess with my brother and Briar wandered over to watch.
She sighed and explained that she had always wanted to learn to play but had never had the opportunity. Bob, who was drinking with some of the men at a nearby table, guffawed. “That game would be too difficult for you petal, why don’t you stick to checkers.” He thought this was hilarious but I could see that several people were uncomfortable with his belittling attitude.
“I could teach you”, I blurted. She looked at me closely and the look of discomfort on her face softened.
“Would you really?” she hesitantly questioned.
We arranged a time later in the day.
It was raining so we went into their motor home and we set up the chess set on a little foldout table. We had to sit side by side and our knees where constantly nudging each other.
Over the course of a couple of days, Briar steadily picked up the rudiments of the game and became a basic but proficient player. I think Bob was a bit miffed that she had been able to learn the game without any real difficulty but the icing was when he arrogantly challenged her to a game. She won!
After the game Briar gave me a hug and profusely thanked me for proving Bob wrong. I wanted the hug to linger but was afraid of making a fool of myself. She smelt divine. While still in the embrace she whispered in my ear. “I have a special present for you. But I want to give it to you in person later.” That sent my wheels spinning. What on earth did that mean?