Posted by tina on February 07, 2007 at 05:10:37:
Life Begins At Forty
By Tina
She stepped into her red, high-heeled sandals. Instead of sitting to fasten the ankle straps she bent her knees slightly then bent fully at the waist. As she fastened the first strap she looked back at the full-length mirror and smiled. The short black dress had slid up so that it barely covered her butt. Her upper thighs were almost fully exposed. Although she had never danced professionally, years of aerobic classes had produced the same result. After fastening the second shoe she straightened, pulled the dress back down and assessed herself.
"Girl, I think this may work," Olivia thought to herself as she surveyed the women in the mirror. She walked up closer to the mirror with no wobble in her step despite the height of her heels. As a model she had fashioned all kinds of woman’s wear but one thing was always the same. The shoes were always high heels...pumps, sling backs, sandals...shoes with impossibly high heels that increased the muscle definition of the legs and firmed the butt as well. Olivia did not even own a pair of flats anymore. Many times she had gotten to keep shoes and dresses from a gig as an extra bonus of the hard work and long hours of modeling.
Olivia had run a comb through her black hair. Black hair that framed a face with dark eyes but skin so white as to be almost translucent. Her nose and mouth had been in perfect proportion to her face. She had worn her hair longer than a woman of forty should but that again was part of being a model. "No, not forty yet," she laughed at the thought. The hair curled nicely around her face.
She rolled her lips a couple of times to make sure her lipstick was evenly distributed. She was ready. It was Saturday night and Olivia was alone. In fact she was lonely. People surrounded her all the time, yet somehow at the end of the day and at this time in her life she found she had no real friends. Even Carolyn, her roommate of two years, was more a stranger than a friend. The two women both modeled and that was how they had met. Sharing an apartment was basically a cost saving measure. Except for an occasional shoot or fashion show, they seldom saw each other. Olivia sighed as she pondered her lack of friends. Especially frustrating was the lack of men in her life. She and her last boyfriend had broken up several months before. She had not even had a lunch date since they had split up.
Olivia looked at herself in the mirror again. "Girl its Saturday night, you’ve got some horns on and you’re looking hot...ssssssss," she made a hissing sound as she stuck her butt out and touched it with her finger.
There was a lounge near the apartment, which Olivia had been to a couple of times. She decided to stop their first for a drink and to checkout the action. When she entered, the bartender nodded and asked how she was. She could tell by the way he had reacted that he knew her. Of course like so many people in her life he didn’t really know her. How could anyone as good looking as Olivia be so alone in the world? She was still trying to work that one out as she sipped her drink. It turned out the place was almost deserted. One couple shared a booth at the back, the bartender and Olivia. The bartender had told her there was a big game on at the arena so most of the regulars were there. He also said he had been after the owner to install a big screen TV so they could turn the place into a sports bar. "ugh," thought Olivia, "just what we need, another sports bar." She of course just smiled and nodded politely.
She had decided to finish her drink and leave when he came into the place. Olivia could tell he was tall, over six feet, a big man. He had the gate of an athlete, walking on his toes, the heels just barely touching as he moved to the bar. He looked to be a little older than Olivia but she was not really good at guessing ages. She remembered how mad Carolyn had gotten when she guessed her so much older. They were actually less than a year apart. Olivia could tell he was in good shape. Despite the mug of beer he had the bartender draw for him, he had no hint of a beer belly. His shoulders were broad and he had long, strong legs. From the back the only negative Olivia could see was the man had no butt. "Oh, well, girl," Olivia laughed to herself , "you’ve got enough for both of you." This of course was not true at all. Any of the girls would have killed to have a rump half as nice as Olivia’s fanny.
The man turned from the bar and walked toward the table where Olivia was sitting. Her heart skipped a beat as he approached. His face was non-descript but he was pleasant looking. His hair was close cropped, light brown with those patches of gray that make older men so irresistible. The eyes were what really grabbed Olivia’s attention. They seemed to change color as he moved toward her. At first they had appeared green, then almost blue. Olivia held her breath as the man walked....past her table and sat in the booth to her left. She sighed and took another sip of her drink.
"At least he sat down facing me, " Olivia thought as she crossed her legs. She made sure she shifted so he had a good view of her legs. His face was somewhat in shadow now so she was not sure he was paying any attention to her or her legs. Occasionally he would take a sip of his beer, then set it back on the table and sit with his fingers together, palms pressing in and out as his fingers bent and straightened against each other, like he was meditating. "Or maybe staring real hard at something," Olivia thought hopefully. Her drink was almost gone, she was there for a man and a man was sitting not ten feet from her.
"Girl, its the nineties. What are you waiting for?" she thought to herself as she screwed up her courage, stood and moved toward his booth.
Despite all her assets, Olivia still was somewhat shy. To see her work as a model you would never have suspected she was anything other than a totally self confident woman. Only Olivia knew the terrible fears that sometimes haunted her. She suspected her problems with meeting Mr. Right had something to do with her lack of inner self-esteem. She was a fairly successful model, still working at forty...almost forty…competing successfully against women half her age. "Girl, don’t even say young enough to be your daughter."
She could feel the glass shaking slightly in her hand as she moved to where he sat. He looked up at her and smiled. His whole face seemed to light up.
"I’ve always been told you shouldn’t drink alone," Olivia said to him, still standing, heart rate speeding up a little.
To her relief he slid over, patted the seat next to him and said, "I guess you better join me for both our sakes."
As she sat Olivia said, "Oh, are you falling apart?" Olivia liked to make puns but she could have bit her lip as soon as she said it. "What kind of stupid question is that?" she asked in her mind. She looked at his puzzled expression and her heart sank.
"Oh, I get it," he said flashing that wonderful smile again, nice straight teeth, and all there, "Join me...put me back together." He laughed a nice hearty laugh but not Santa Clausey ho ho. " I’m Charlie...uh...Charlie Smith." He did not put out a hand but looked down at Olivia’s right hand as he said this. "Always wait for the lady to extend a hand. A gentleman, " thought Olivia as she lifted her right hand and smiled at him. "God, did I remember to brush my teeth?" she wondered but said, "Nice to meet you Charlie, I’m Olivia."
He took her hand, but instead of shaking it, he rotated it slightly and kissed it. His lips had lightly touched her knuckles and Olivia had felt a very pleasant tingle run through her as he looked up into her eyes with that smile. She decided his eyes were hazel but they seemed to have little flecks in them, which changed color, as they caught the light differently. He let go of her hand and she moved it to her lap. He followed with his eyes and she could tell he had stolen a quick peek at her legs before his eyes had come back up to her face. The little black dress was at mid thigh just where Olivia wanted it.
"So what brings you here on a Saturday night?" he inquired before taking another sip of beer.
Olivia idly stirred her drink with a little plastic sword as she thought of what to say.
"Charlie, I am going to be forty on Wednesday....and I was feeling lonely... and well." She left the thought incomplete hoping she hadn’t made a total ass of herself.
"Life begins at forty, you know," he said with a laugh.
"If one more person tells me that I may scream," came her quick reply. Just as quickly she put a hand on his thigh, "Oh, I don’t mean you. Its just people I work with, even my roommate, keep trying to console me....as if I were about to die or something."
"Well, I know the feeling," Charlie replied as he placed a hand on top of hers, tucked his fingers loosely around her palm, " I turn fifty in June and I am afraid my friends are going to treat it like some festival occasion."
Now it was Olivia’s turn to look puzzled. "You’re fifty....almost fifty?" Olivia had guessed him older but only by a couple of years. Forty-five would have been her highest guess. "You look wonderful for fifty." As soon as she said this she could feel her cheeks color in embarrassment. She also wondered if her red sandal was going to fit in her mouth.
He patted her hand and said, "That’s quite all right. I appreciate the thought. By the way would you like another drink?"
She looked at her glass, mostly water at that point, "Why yes I think I would like another." She smiled at him as her left hand discretely pulled the hem of her skirt up a little higher. Charlie raised a hand to get the bartenders attention. When the man looked over, Charlie made a circling motion with his finger. The man nodded and began making Olivia’s cocktail.
Out of the corner of her eye, Olivia saw Charlie look back down with his eyes going past her face to again gaze at her legs. Olivia moved her knees slowly apart as his eyes came down. This time his eyes did not come up right away. Olivia was wearing black, French cut pantyhose. She had not put on any panties that night. She didn’t want to take any chances on there being confusion as to what she was after. By the smile on his face, Olivia felt certain he was able to catch a glimpse of her pantyless crotch.
His eyes came back to her and he said, "You have nice...ah...legs. Are you a dancer?"
"Actually I’m a model. I do aerobics classes three or four times a week to stay fit."
She smiled at him as she moved her hand a little higher on his thigh. "I’m glad you find my legs attractive."
"Yes, very attractive," he responded, "but I find...uh...you have many wonderful features.
They were interrupted as the bartender brought the drinks. Charlie gave the man a ten and told him to keep the change. "Hmmm, handsome, tall, a great smile, and generous," she thought, "A man to die for."
"Wha...what do you do, Charlie," she asked him nervously as she moved her hand down to the inside of his leg. "Get a grip, girl," she said to herself, "you are acting like a school girl." She moved her legs a little wider to make sure he had a good view. His own hand moved to her thigh just above the knee and she felt a wonderful, unexpected electric charge run up her spine. His touch was gentle and his hand soft.
"I teach at the junior college over in Lake City. English lit and public speaking."
"Oh, my, a college professor, how marvelous."
Now it was his turn to blush a little. He really didn’t think of himself as a professor.
The two of them continued to chit chat as they finished the second drink. She learned he had married his high school sweet heart right after graduation. She had promptly run off the next year with one of their college professors. He learned she also married very young with similar infidelity ruining it. His hand had worked its way up her thigh when he finished his beer and asked, "Shall we have another drink or...?"
"Actually, why don’t we have another at my place?" she said as her fingers gently pressed against his leg. "We can be so much more...hmm... comfortable. And my roommate won’t be home from work until the wee hours of the morning."
He responded by pulling her to him and kissing her. Olivia parted her lips to let his tongue slide into her mouth. She could feel herself getting wet. His hand moved further up her leg as he gently squeezed it through her sheer hose.
After the kiss she said, "I’ll take that for a yes."
Olivia was extremely excited as they walked arm in arm from the bar. Once outside his hand slid down and squeezed her ass. She did not resist as his hand worked under her dress from behind and he rubbed her fanny. At this point she was so hot for him she would have let him take her then and there.
"Your workouts seem to have been successful," he said as he gently squeezed her left cheek. She could tell he was enjoying the feel of her pantyhose clad ass.
"Why, thank you sir, although I seem to feel a sudden draft." This brought out a laugh from both of them. "This is my car here." Olivia said as they got to her mustang.
"Nice car," he complimented her, "That grand am is mine." He pointed to a car a couple of spots over, "Why don’t I follow you to your apartment"
He held her car door for her then leaned in to give her another kiss. Olivia’s skirt was up, almost around her waist, as she had made no effort to be a lady getting into the car. She knew that if he hadn’t before, Charlie certainly had gotten a good look at her treasure.
Olivia thought she would go crazy on the short drive to her apartment. In fact she slipped a hand into her hose to finger herself. Just a five-minute trip but it seemed to take forever. Olivia was, of course, in a hurry to get back to the apartment, but she still took her time to make sure he was following her.
"Girl, this is your lucky night," she said out loud as she drove along playing with herself, "A quick drink, a little smooching on the couch and a lot of Charlie..." Olivia laughed happily as she contemplated their evening together. With Carolyn away until three in the morning they could have a good old fashion romp in the sack. "Maybe life does begin at forty." She laughed at this thought.
They were barely inside the apartment when she turned into his embrace. She felt like the small talk, chit chat phase was behind them. She could feel his erection as his body pressed up against hers. Her own excitement was building and she suspected she would have many orgasms with this lovely man.
"You fix that drink while I use the bathroom," he said happily to her.
"Well, okay, but don't be gone long. First door on your left down the hall there....hey, lets have another kiss before you go."
They kissed again then he headed for the bathroom. This whole thing had been a little surprising for him. Even with the papers full of the South Side Strangler murders, this woman had still invited him back to her apartment. She must really have been horny or maybe it was the drinks. He smiled that marvelous smile as he walked into the bathroom, turned on the light and received another very pleasant surprise. On the towel rack next to the sink, a pair of stockings had been hung up to dry. After relieving himself he washed up, dried his hands with the hand towel hanging on the other side of the stockings, then gazed at the pair of dark, brown stockings. He picked up one of the stockings and put it his pocket. He hummed a quiet tune as he turned the light off and walked slowly back into the living room. Olivia had finished filling the ice bucket and was busy making a batch of Manhattans at the bar.
"Manhattan okay with you or should I pop you a beer?", she called over her shoulder as he walked up behind her.
"A Manhattan will be fine," he said as he embraced her from behind. His arm slid around her waist and he kissed her neck as she cocked her head slightly to the left. She could feel he was still hard as he pressed up against her. She rested a hand lightly on his forearm while her other hand went up to his face as he nuzzled her ear. He heard her breathing deepen as he kissed her. Her eyes were tightly closed and it was obvious Olivia was really turned on by his kisses.
He removed the stocking from his pocket and had brought his hands together on her stomach. She was unaware he had the stocking in his hands. She tilted her head back onto his shoulder as he kissed her cheek. She had felt his hands caress her as they had begun to slide up her body. He kissed her lips as she turned her face towards his. Their lips had met and softly, so tenderly they kissed. His hands had not stopped at her breasts but had come up to her throat.
Her right hand rested gently on the back of his head as his tongue slid into her luscious mouth. She had moved her left hand back and had begun to gently rub his crotch. "Ah, you are so gooockkk..." Then the stocking was around her neck. Olivia’s eyes had flown open as she had felt something soft tightened around her neck.
"Whacccc...whacckk...." She tried to ask what was happening but managed only strangled squawks. She smacked the glass pitcher as her left hand had come around to clutch at the stocking.
The pitcher tipped over and smashed on the floor. Olivia was oblivious to the cocktail mixture as it splashed her feet. She was too busy fighting to free herself. Her fingers had felt the stocking as she tried to dig under the nylon, but it was already wound tight.
"My God, he’s strangling me." She had thought through her panic, "Can’t breath, feels like a stocking...too tight," Charlie gradually pulled her back toward the couch as he strangled her. He had the stocking clutched firmly in his hands as he pushed them in opposite directions at the back of Olivia’s neck. The nylon was already buried in the front of Olivia’s throat.
"You’re putting up a better fight than the blond", Charlie whispered in Olivia’s ear. Olivia had read about the women strangled but it could not be happening to her. "Only sluts and prostitutes get strangled by wacko’s", she thought vaguely as she instinctively tried to free herself from the attack. Olivia was no longer sure footed in her red sandals as she was dragged backwards by the stocking. Her hands went back and clutched at Charlie’s hands, then she reached her right hand back to grab hold of his shirt. This brought no relief as Charlie continued to strangle Olivia and continued to pull her toward the couch.
Olivia felt herself pulled back and down when they reached the white sofa. She was half sitting on Charlie’s lap as he pulled her down. His grip on the nylon loosened for a moment and she had tried to beg, "Pleee...pleease don’t strangacckkk..." Charlie had gripped the stocking again, was pulling it tight around her neck and had cut off her pleading almost before it had begun.
Olivia had felt Charlie’s excitement as he strangled her. For her part Olivia still could not believe this was happening to her. Her hands alternatively clutched at the stocking, waved about frantically in the air or reached back to try to clutch at Charlie. Olivia had bent her head back and she had looked into Charlie’s eyes as he gazed down at her.
"Please don’t kill me," she had begged in her mind, trying to communicate it with her eyes. She knew it was hopeless. This man had killed five, no she had read about another, six women. "No, please don’t kill me...please", her mind screamed but Olivia only heard odd gasps and gurgles escape her lips. This had spurred her to continue to struggle, her chest heaved in an effort to draw air past the nylon garrote. Then she had felt the stocking being looped around her neck again. She had not thought the pressure in her head could get any worse but as Charlie pulled the second loop tight, it had felt as if her head would burst. Her eyes felt as if they would explode from their sockets. Her right hand clutched at the nylon as her left hand waved helpless in the air. She could feel her tongue push past her lips and felt a sudden pain in her tongue but had no idea her teeth had clamped down on her tongue as it had stuck out of her mouth.
Charlie watched as Olivia’s struggled beautifully against his merciless strangulation. He loved the way her hands had waved around. Her arms and legs had continued to move, but had slowed considerably since Charlie had first looped the stocking around Olivia’s neck. There was no longer any real control to her movements. Charlie had become very aroused as he watched the doomed woman struggle.
Olivia had then felt the stocking loosen a little. She was able to gasp in a little air as Charlie took hold of the stocking with his right hand. Olivia’s right leg was stretched out on the white couch, her left leg was pointed off the front of the couch with her foot still on the floor, so her legs were spread wide. Charlie could see her black bush through the sheer pantyhose. Her hair still glistened from her earlier excitement. Olivia watched helplessly as Charlie’s hand slid under the waistband of her hose. His finger entered her and she again felt that tingle. She almost forgot about the nylon still tight at her throat as Charlie began to gently massage her sex. He had the most wonderful hands and his fingers seemed to know the exact spots to touch. Charlie felt Olivia tense a little. Her back arched and her hands went down on top of his hand as she began to climax.
"Oh, this is so good," Olivia thought through the haze, "yes, please, I need more." Her hands pushed weakly on Charlie’s in an effort to communicate her needs. Charlie continued to fondle her as she reached another orgasm. He began to push her the black pantyhose further down her legs. Olivia responded by spreading her legs as wide as she could to allow him deeper penetration. Olivia was in a state of euphoria when Charlie’s hand moved from her crotch. She was totally lost in the wave of orgasms that had swept over her. At this point she had concluded he wasn’t the South Side Strangler and this was just some psycho-sexual game he played.
"hmmm, not really for me but then I am having a lovely orgasm," Olivia had thought dreamily.
Olivia had a most wonderful, warm and cozy feeling as Charlie began to tighten the dark, brown nylon again. She was too weak to struggle anymore. She had quickly given up to the pretty lights flashing in her brain. Her fingers softly touched the nylon necklace as she had felt the darkness closing around her. Her final coherent thought was, "Please stop so I can thank you for a lovely evening."
Charlie held the stocking tight around Olivia’s neck as he watched her movements slow and finally stop completely. He looped the stocking around her neck one last time and knotted the ends tightly at the nap of her neck. He slid out from under the body and gently lowered her back onto the sofa, her head resting on the arm as if she were sleeping.
He smiled down at her and said softly, "pleasant dreams, princess." The early morning air invigorated him as he walked to his car. "What time did she say her roommate would return?" he wondered idly as he drove for home, "Maybe I should have waited so I could introduce myself." He chuckled softly as he anticipated number eight.
Carolyn returned to the apartment at exactly 3:00 am. She knew the time because the clock coo-cooed three times just as she let herself into the apartment. She was surprised to find all the lights still on. This was odd because Olivia always turned the lights off before she went to bed. Carolyn knew Olivia was home because her car was in its slot out front. Carolyn was just getting ready to call out when she turned toward the couch.
Olivia lay sprawled on her back on the couch. Her head was up on its arm and it almost appeared as if she were taking a nap. Carolyn took a couple of steps toward the white sofa when she saw the dark, brown band of stocking wound tightly around Olivia’s neck. Olivia’s eyes were wide open and her pupils were turned down as if she were being snobbish. Her tongue filled her open mouth, then protruded down and to the left where it hung lewdly on Olivia’s cheek. Olivia’s left arm dangled limply off the couch, her bangle bracelets bunched against her hand. Her right arm, hand curled into a loose fist lay on her stomach. Olivia’s right leg was stretched straight out and rested on the couch. Carolyn looked down at Olivia’s left foot, bent at the ankle, resting on the carpet. The heel was broken off of the red sandal she was wearing. Not wanting to but not being able to stop, Carolyn’s eyes had run up the stocking covered leg. She saw Olivia’s pantyhose where pushed down her legs. She was still wearing her favorite black dress but it was bunched up around her waist. Olivia was totally and grotesquely exposed. It appeared that she had been raped.
Carolyn’s eyes moved back to the face. As she looked at the swollen tongue again she suddenly felt sick. She ran to the bathroom, just barely getting the lid up before throwing up. When she was finished being sick, Carolyn lay weakly against the porcelain stool. "Got to get help," she thought as she dragged herself off the floor. She bent over the sink and splashed some cold water in her face. She reached out for the hand towel but instead grasped the remaining stocking. She looked at the stocking in her hand; it was her stocking, dark and brown, one of a pair of stockings Carolyn had hung up to dry. She looked at the towel rack with only a hand towel. It was then that Carolyn had sunk wailing to the floor. She clutched her stocking to her face as she had begun to sob.