May spotted the headline in the paper. 'Sex doesn't end at sixty or even eighty' it bellowed out at her. She read the article with interest. Contrary to popular belief, it appeared that a woman's body was still able to respond. This excited her; She still remembered the experiences of her youth - Her naivety and inexperience decreasing with each encounter. Now she was being told that it hadn't had to end. Why had she never thought of that? - She had just believed what she had been told.

She took off her cardigan and tentively felt the outline of her breasts through her bra. No, that wasn't any good. She undid her bra and felt her wrinkled nipples. Ah, that got the response that she needed. They started to peak. Her excitement rose noticing her body could still respond after all these years.

May took off her skirt, stockings and pants. She lay down on the bed stroking herself between her legs. She waited for the key in the lock with bated breath.

She heard the door opening downstairs. She called out for John and waited in anticipation as he came up the stairs...
