MenageMature

Adult woman oriented novel

February 11

Glory closed her eyes and basked in the heat of the sauna, enjoying the sensations of the sweat droplets running down her long slim legs. She centred herself and imagined that they were the feather-light tracing of finger tips brushing along her thighs.  She shivered.

He would be a large man; muscular and blocky with strong hands but with a gentle touch. He would be handsome in a brutal way - not pretty but rugged and experienced in all the ways that a full life could educate a man.

He would be firm and masterful but quick to reward...

Glory pushed her towel aside and passed her palm across her left nipple, leaving it floating there as she grazed it with a practised circular motion.

Imagining his hand there.

She took in a deep long breath and sighed.

Working as a fitness professional at the Bay South leisure centre, she enjoyed certain privileges which included use of all the facilities outside normal opening hours. Obviously certain restrictions applied - she couldn't use the sauna or the heated pool before or after the times that Greg, the caretaker-come-security-officer, unlocked or locked the main doors - but apart from that, she had the full run of the building whenever she wanted to use it.  

Seniority and long service had it's advantages.

Glory wasn't an unfeasibly large-breasted gym bunny and she didn't wear the tiniest imaginable pair of hot pants whenever she stood out in front of the studio to take her classes but dammit, she still looked good. Even though she was now well into her fourth decade and no longer drew the eyes of all the hot young football players and the local track stars.  She was... ugh... like a fine wine, and had got trimmer and tighter and had developed more stamina after leaving her teens behind.  She could leave all the scantily-clothed air-heads coughing in her dust any time she wanted.  No problem.

The only problem in her almost-perfect life was the lack of a love partner.  Someone to hold her close at night. Some one to raise her heart-rate. Someone to share long passionate sleepless nights with. Night after night after night.

Someone like William.

William had been her perfect guy even before he'd been her man.  He'd been large, muscular and blocky. With strong hands and a gentle touch. And he'd been firm and masterful but still loving and so romantic.

But now he was gone.  Killed while crossing the street in a 'hit and run' eighteen months ago by the driver of a black Lexus speeding past their house one night.  She'd heard an argument in the street and, hearing her husband's voice, had looked out just in time to see him being knocked to the ground by the car as it roared away. 

And now she was a widow with a yawning hole in her life. One that felt like it was ready to be given some attention again.

Glory shivered despite the heat and, opening her eyes, noticed that her towel had fallen away.  Frowning, she began to reach down for the damp square of cloth and then decided to leave it where it lay, thinking it unnecessary.  Her cupped hand still in place, she squeezed gently, luxuriating in the compression and the physicality of her own touch.  Murmuring softly, she closed her eyes again...

"Excuse me!  Is there anyone still left in there?  Greg shouted loudly as he came down the corridor outside, clattering his bucket and mop to make even more noise.  

Sighing to herself, Glory gathered up the towel again, shuddering as she wrapped it back around her.  "It's okay, Greg.  I'm just finishing in here. Just getting my things together. Ten minutes and I'll be out!"  Waiting until the over-loud noises died away, she dropped the towel again and quickly pulled on her chain-store bra, pants and Nike tracksuit.  

Glory eased the door open a fraction, peering out into the corridor. All quiet. No sign of Greg doing his rounds. Slipping her mag-card into the lock, she hauled her holdall out of the locker, hunkering down under the weight as she slipped the straps onto her shoulders.

Negotiating the narrow corridor, she made her way to the outer doorway without meeting anyone else. Now beginning to feel uneasy about going out into the dark alone, she wished she'd not tried to avoid Greg, having originally felt childishly guilty after being  interrupted mid-thrall.

Opening the door, the cold night air slid past her, raising goosebumps on her arms and sending a chill up her back. The flat monochromatic orange of the car park lighting unsettled her and, looking around, the shadows suddenly seemed forbidding and full of potential threats.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed the outer door fully open.  Sprinting across the car park, she reached her car in seconds. No-one in sight. Operating the remote, she opened the doors,hurriedly stripped the bag from her shoulders and threw it quickly onto the rear seat, only beginning to relax when she was cupped safely inside the driver's seat with the doors all snicking securely closed around her.

Thank God for that.

Glory turned the car's lights on, the dipped headlights pushing the shadows further away.

Better still. But still not comfortable.

Firing the engine up, Glory wasted no time leaving the car park behind her, feeling reassured by the car's speed and by the fact that every minute brought her closer to home.
The roads were busy and she felt safe until a small red car squeezed in between her and the large dark saloon behind, it's lights bright through the rear view mirror. "Alright, already!" Glory groused, urging her Toyota forward. "You can play those games all you want, but just leave me out of it!"

However, the red car continued on when Glory turned off the road and into her driveway and she now began to relax.  Passing between the open gates, she stopped the car in front of the garage, thumbing the switch to unlock the car's doors.

Moments later, Glory walked in through the thick oak doorway. "Home, at long last," she told the cat busy anxiously waiting inside. "I'm betting you're hungry, Max," she said, bending to fondle the cat's ears.

The End

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