The widow lived across the road. She didn't fit the image. She was my age; smart, kept herself trim. She had a pleasant but not overly exciting figure, the sort that left you wondering what it looked like naked. She was vivacious, lively, had a smile which lit everything up and she had never remarried. It didn't appear to be for want of suitor's - there wasn't a string of men or even a queue to the door. In fact she didn't go out a great deal, but if she did go there was always a handsome man. They just didn't last more than a few months before she tired of them.

We have a tradition round here that certain neighbours have always had little drinks parties at different times of the year. These are the people that have lived here forever - well since the houses on this road were built thirty years ago anyway. They know everybody and everything, yet they do it without being nasty. We felt honoured to be involved right from the start when we moved in. Yet even they didn't know much about the widow. She kept herself to herself, there wasn't even gossip, you know - she's a dyke or whatever. She just kept her own council as they say in these parts.

We met socially very occasionally - I must admit my wife and I liked her, she was very pleasant company. She's a 'toucher.' Our family, on both sides, have always been 'touchers' as well - we'll put an arm around someone when we meet, touch their arm as we talk, often brush cheeks as we greet. I don't know why - I guess it's not everyone's bag, but we just do it. We get more positive responses than negative so it can't be too bad! We met the widow first at next door's Christmas Eve 'do.' It's actually our neighbour's birthday as well so it's a bit of an excuse for a celebration.

I'd gone in early, my wife would follow later she said, preparations for the 'big day' and everything. My wife, Janet, enjoys Christmas - the planning - the food - the little surprises - everything just so.

The widow slipped next door to have a quick chat with her - I followed a few minutes later to see when wifey was coming in. Nobody bats an eyelid anyway; we all come and go during the evening. As I got to the door wifey turned and said to me "Go across with Yvonne she needs to borrow you for a few minutes, Jack has let her down and she needs a man to help her with some preparation."

Now I have to say this surprised me, Janet is a little wary of these situations. "Well I mean you can't be too careful - can you" is one of her favourite sayings. Anyway I followed Yvonne; I always do as I'm told! Yvonne chattered, as she does, as we made our way to her house. My mind off at a tangent - thinking what a lovely backside she had. Mentally I slapped myself down and shook my head. We went into Yvonne's house - the doors are slam locks so once shut unless put on the snib they can't be opened from the outside - ours are the same. She didn't put the snib on. We wouldn't be disturbed - but then I thought don't be stupid - to coin a phrase 'don't shit on your own doorstep,' and that applied to her as well as me.

"Sven - can you wait here a second I must just pay a visit" Yvonne said. So I stood in the kitchen and waited. The calendar on the cupboard was a Chippendale one - I grinned to myself - "nothing wrong there!" "Perhaps a little out of character though?" As she came back through the door I bloody near stopped breathing and had a heart attack - she was totally stark naked!! "Did Janet tell you what it was I wanted to borrow?" she asked. The ambiguity vanished totally as she sashayed across, felt me up and started undoing my trousers. She was gorgeous. The figure was far better than it had any right to be at her age - my dick recognised the fact by becoming instantly totally and achingly hard. You've heard of Rudolph the red nosed reindeer - the end of my dick was so red it was in danger of becoming a hazard warning light.