Chapter 1

It had been a cold day indeed and the mist was not so gentle behind the church in the somber grey graveyard on consecrated ground. There were noticeably few mourners for Timothy Xavier Murphy, Fiona's spouse of some 45 years. All of his mates were either already passed to their reward or were too busy boozing it up to be standing in the rain behind the church on a Friday afternoon.

Fiona was a tiny slip of a woman. She had always kept a trim figure, much good it had done her with the curse of a disinterested husband and a moral code that prohibited her from looking elsewhere.

Several years prior, she had gotten a gift from her maiden auntie Rose on her 60th birthday of a wickedly decadent dildo of immense proportions. Both she and her sister Iris had laughed and giggled for hours but when she was alone in the bed late that night, she looked at it with longing and not amusement.

After about three long months of indecision, Fiona started to use the erotic toy in the confines of her locked bathroom and sometimes when her husband was still late at the pub, she would insert it with muffled groans and lots of Catholic guilt.

She named her special toy, "Patrick Joseph Longfellow" and she even gave him a history of many amorous adventures with a number of her female acquaintances. She got in the habit of asking the imaginary "Patrick" if he had been giving it to her sister Iris or to her best friend Elizabeth. She even made up scenarios where he had to satisfy her to make up for his indiscretions with slutty female bed companions. Fiona got real scared one night when she didn't hear her tipsy husband Timothy come home unexpectedly and asked her,

"Who are you talking to, love, are you on the phone?"

Poor Fiona had Patrick shoved 8 inches deep inside her leaking pussy under the blanket and she was just on the verge of a fantastic orgasm. It took all of her will power to remove Patrick silently and hide it under her pillow. She hoped her disoriented husband did not catch the scent of female sex hanging pungently about the bedroom. She was very careful after that incident to put a bell on the inside of the front door so she would not be caught unawares.

Thankful that the services were short and sweet, Fiona went straight home and locked the door, took the phone off of the receiver and headed up to the bedroom for some quality time with Patrick. She became a complete slut for the bad boy Patrick for the next few days and spent most of her time in bed or reading dirty stories from her husband's old collection. The descriptions of the things men and women did to each other behind closed doors convinced her that she had missed out on all the fun for an entire lifetime.

Her sister Iris invited her to accompany her and her husband Reggie to the shore for a nice vacation and she gladly accepted since she had not had a proper vacation in many years. She was not overly fond of Reggie because he had behaved badly about 10 years ago with a schoolgirl daughter of a close friend of hers. Fiona was never quite certain that Iris knew all the details of his "late life crisis" but thank God the girl had not gotten pregnant. He also never ceased to annoy her with his heated stares at her bum whenever she bent over to serve the tea or when they went bowling together as a foursome. She really disliked when he rubbed his nasty "thing" on her leg or arm when they were passing in the hallway or even waiting for a table in the pub with her clueless husband standing right next to her. His look of disinterested innocence made her want to wipe the smug smile off his face with her fist. She just didn't understand how her religious-minded sister could put up with his tomfoolery all these years.

One thing that she made sure to pack was her best friend Patrick in a well wrapped place of honor in the middle of her toilet articles. She kept an eye on that bag the entire trip down because she knew she would be lost without it.

At age 65, Fiona was still a desirable woman but she considered herself as no longer a viable candidate for male sexual interest. She looked at her sagging boobs and her slightly drooping ass victimized by gravity and figured she was unattractive to males of the species. What she did not realize was that her hair was still cascading in reddish tresses far below her shoulders, and her pert upturned nose and her high cheekbones gave her a sultry look that much younger women sought but never achieved.

Quite often at shopping markets and on the bus, younger men showed inordinate interest in the way her heart-shaped ass moved sensuously insider her matronly dresses. She was also completely unaware that little Jimmy Shea who was born when she was in her mid-forties peeked nightly from his vantage point in the attic window down into her bedroom and watched her gyrating frantically with her constant companion Patrick between her legs. He had many a satisfying releases of creamy cum picturing her pussy on the end of his rock-hard cock. Of course, he was far too gentlemanly to suggest she drop her knickers for him despite the growing need he felt inside his gut for her trim little body.

Her sister Iris was a bit curvy and filled her bathing suit with some excess popping out the edges when she bent or walked on the sand. She was constantly tugging on the hems to put her cheeks back inside the too-small swim costume. Fiona, on the other hand, was a petite woman with small breasts and a bottom that drooped slightly but was still quite compact and young in appearance. Her tummy was flat and when she smiled with her dark sunglasses on, she was still quite attractive.