Catherine Carroll rolled over on the plush mattress and looked out of her window over the Swinomish Channel in Western Washington state.
Her distended and generous pussy lips still throbbed and dripped liberally from the vigorous masturbation session she had just completed. She ran her palm over her mons leisurely, massaging the moisture from the saturated, soft curls of her pubic hair framing her recently sated cunt into her skin.
"A tonic for her soul and libido, an elixir, if you will," she thought to herself. "Nothing is better for the complexion than a fresh coating of cum."
Except perhaps for a man's cum, she mused, smiling at the thought of her fantasy lover, a stranger, fucking her intensely on the large ottoman that served as the centerpiece of this room in the quaint bed and breakfast, and then showering her with his semen.
But, for now, at least, her trusty rabbit vibrator and knowing fingers sufficed more than satisfactorily this early Spring weekday afternoon.
This was just what the doctor ordered. Not that she had consulted with a doctor, per se, but if she had, well, a prescription for some 'alone time' would have been a piece of medical genius.
Yes, we all need to get away occasionally, Catherine rationalized, trying to clear her mind of some of the greater issues of her domestic life. True, she had it better than most wives, much better, she had to admit.
Her husband of well over two decades was still virile and attentive, but as often happens over the course of a long marriage, no matter how solid the bond, the frequency and intensity of their sex life had abated significantly in recent years.
Catherine had taken the ferry over from Victoria in British Columbia to Anacortes on the American side , and then made the short trek down to this lovely little village, La Conner, that she had heard so much about.
She had checked herself in to this bed and breakfast for a two-night stay, content to pamper herself with some rest and relaxation, a little shopping in the small town's boutiques, and ample samplings of the fine chardonnays that this region was known for.
Catherine rinsed away her musings with a long hot soak in the in-room Jacuzzi, and then a warm, cleansing shower. She examined herself in the mirror after slipping on a sheer, white thong that barely covered the thick folds of her labia. She also put on a gold belly chain that wrapped around her waist.
As she caressed her lithe, mature body, she glanced at that ottoman again. Her eyes were continually drawn to it, not just in admiration of the lush leather finishes. Catherine couldn't help but think how many guests ended up using the furniture accessory item as a play toy for their carnal activities.
"It's absolutely made for sex," she said to herself, her hands casually rubbing her breasts. "Yes, it's beautifully, classically crafted, but come on, what can't you help but think of when you see it? Why else is it in the room?"
Catherine found that her mind wandered more and more to all things sexual recently, sensuously rubbing the vanilla body lotion over her chest, pinching and twisting the nipples as she massaged the cream into her pores.
Her perpetually sensitive nipples had been on full alert since her visit to the day spa earlier that afternoon, which, of course, eventually resulted in her solo pleasure session.
Catherine had recently turned fifty, a milestone for any woman. Yet, she smiled at the reflection staring back at her. She liked what she saw, and she knew that most men did as well. She could turn the heads of men half her age, as indicated by the comments of one of the twenty-something crew on the ferry a few hours ago.
As she walked to the terminal, the young man tipped his hat as he opened Catherine's car door for her. The hem on her dress had risen well above mid-thigh as she eased into the driver seat, a sight which did not go unnoticed by the valet.
"We hate to see you go, ma'am, but it's been my great pleasure to watch you leave," he smiled before giving her a big goodbye grin.
That parting acclamation was enough to keep Catherine's pussy moist for hours, and the self-release that she had already provided to herself earlier was only a brief respite from the incessant churning in her loins. She was interminably horny today, even by her own standards. She smiled at the realization that she desperately craved a good, strong.........
".....chardonnay. Yes, that's what I need," Catherine mumbled to her image. "A buzz to match the one in my pussy. God, who would have ever thought that my hormones would be running so rampant at fifty?"
All in all, Catherine was a pretty amazing package for a fifty-year-old. She was on the tall side, 5'7" in bare feet, and close to six feet tall when adorned in the heels that she loved to wear.
She weighed 140 lbs, but was trying hard to get back to 130 lbs... much better for the beach, she giggled. A natural brunette, but age now required that she use hair color to maintain it. Currently her hair was shorter than she was accustomed to keeping it... a bob with a 'just been fucked' look was how she termed it, for lack of a better description.
Her breasts were full, and sagged only slightly, just enough to add to the allure of her womanly body. Her stomach was still mostly flat, just the hint of a slight curve between her belly button and pussy.
Her bush was immaculately trimmed in a neat inverted triangle, with just a few wisps of gray in her sparse pubic hair. Catherine liked this, paradoxically. If it was on my head, she admitted, I'd be tripping over myself to dye it brown. But she thought the grudging concession to age looked erotically sexy above her crotch. She was right.
She turned sideways to admire the shape of her buttocks, still high and firm, a rear end that could be the envy of women fifteen to twenty years her junior. And an obvious source of enjoyment for men aged eighteen to eighty.
But it was Catherine's legs that were her best feature, and she knew it. They were long, lean, and thinly muscled, testimony to the athlete that she once was, and still fancied herself to be. Her calves were toned from decades of regular running and aerobics, which also served to keep her thighs taut and slim.
She still had that telltale little "gap" between her legs, "Inner Thigh Clearance", she called it, which was uncommon for a woman of almost any age, never mind one on the north side of the half-century mark. Legend had it that such a "crack" was attributable to good body structure and a fit lower torso. Either that, or a woman had sex a lot.
Catherine chalked it up to good bone structure and fitness, for sure, smiling to herself as she slipped on a flowered sundress over her shoulders. The dress was her first indulgence on her trip thus far. She bought it in one of those little boutiques shortly after arriving in town. She might be venturing out to dinner by herself later on, but dammit, she was going to look and feel mah-vah-lous while doing so, she told herself, smoothing the hem.
She would go braless tonight, also, that's what solo road trips were for, to do things you wouldn't necessarily do at home. Her nipples expressed their excitement at their unexpected freedom by pointing proudly against the thin cotton of the dress.
