(_|_) Fun in Retirement – Part 3 – Di for a Shower [MF]

If you are interested in the whole back story, have a look at my previous posts. You don’t need to read them for this to make sense though.

* Part 1 – [Fun in Retirement – Part 1 – Claire](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/7uz9xw/mf_fun_in_retirement_part_1_claire_mf/).

* Part 2 – [Fun in Retirement – Part 2 – Off to the Beach](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/7vepra/fun_in_retirement_part_2_off_to_the_beach_mff/)

My neighbour is Di. She is now in her mid 70s, single and lives in the unit joined to mine. She is the sort of lady who is always willing to help a friend and ask nothing of it.

She is also the last person to go nude at our beach day a while ago. We didn’t think she’d do it, but you have to give it to her, she did. She actually got comfortable with it. So much so that she came on the remaining beach trips we’ve had following until it got to cold and we stopped.

This starts with the bathroom in my unit. The shower had always had a bit of a smell to it. It wasn’t the drain, but a wet musky smell all of the time. The problem finally came to a head when a tile fell off the wall down near the floor. It was wet in behind and the smell was a shocker. I could poke my finger through what was left of the wall behind where the tile had been.

Long story short is the previous renovation was poorly done and it needed to be all pulled down and fixed. The tradesman came in on a Friday and knocked out all of the shower, looked at the problem, and said he’d be back next week so fix it.

Great. No shower until sometime next week.

Di knew about this and being the good Samaritan offered me the use of her shower whenever I wanted. I made tentative arrangements to come over each morning.

The next morning when I woke up I put on my dressing gown and grabbed my soap, towel and razor. We have a gate between our little back yards for gardener access. It was useful so I could pop over just as I was. No need to get dressed. Imagine the gossip had others seen me going into Di’s in my dressing gown. The scandal would have made the front page of the national news paper. :-)

I knocked on the back door of her unit and she finally came and opened it in her dressing gown and let me in. I thought she would have been up well before then. I had waited hoping not to get there before she was dressed. She invited me in and directed me to her bathroom. This wasn’t really necessary as her unit is a mirror image of mine.

I had a shower, put my dressing gown back on and exited the bathroom. Di was sitting at her table reading the news paper. She invited me to stay for breakfast. Nothing too extravagant, just a bowl of cereal.

During our chat, Di asked what my pyjamas looked like. I could see her cotton nightie under the top of her dressing gown, so I knew basically what she was wearing. The thing is I don’t wear pyjamas. Haven’t since before I was married. I told her so. That wasn’t the answer she was expecting. I told her I never slept in them and the only pair I owned were old and used for a trip to hospital I had a few years ago.

“So you’re not wearing any now?” she asked.

“No.”

“Oh. Why?”

“I just haven’t worn them for a very long time.”

“Oh. Don’t you get cold?”

“No. That’s what blankets are for.”

And that was the end of that.

The next morning was the same routine. Shower and breakfast at Di’s.

Di had a small confession. She had tried sleeping with no nightie last night but it felt wrong and after an hour or so she had got up and put her nightie back on. Only then could she sleep. I could see she had her nightie on. She was more relaxed this morning than the previous. She didn’t have her gown trussed up as tight.

Monday morning came. Again off through the back gate to Di’s for a shower and breakfast. This time I wore my shower robe instead. It was white towelling and shorter too. My dressing gown I previously wore was the typical dark red chequed pattern and down to my lower calf in length. This robe was only just below my knees. It also opened a lot more across my chest when I sat down than the dressing gown.

After my shower I noticed that Di had a different nightie on. The material wasn’t cotton, but a stretchy synthetic. She told me she had slept in it the previous night and it was one she’d had in the back of the drawer and never used it before because she thought it was too short.

I had to ask how short it was.

She said “It is only half way down to my knees.”

“That’s not that short.”

“That’s short enough thank-you Mr. Voit.”

“Am I allowed to see?”

“Why would you want to see?”

“Why not?”

“What are your pyjamas like? Or are you wearing boxers?” she asked.

I told her again I didn’t wear any. She said she remember that, but didn’t believe me.

“OK. What do you think I’m wearing?” I asked.

“Probably boxer short pyjamas.”

“OK. If that;s what you want to believe. I can live with that. Can I see your shortie nightie then?”

“As long as I can see your boxers.”

While still sitting she undid her dressing gown and opened it enough to show me her nightie. Sitting down it had ridden up a bit, so I could see a fair bit of her thighs. I’d seen a lot more of her at the beach in the past.

“So you want to see my boxers then?” I asked. A rhetorical question really. “You’re going to be disappointed.” as I opened the front of the robe. “Because I told you I wasn’t wearing any.”

I left the robe open, like she had done with her gown.

We sat in some silence, looking at each other. I could see her nipples poking through her nightie.

“I guess you don’t have boxers on either?” I asked, breaking the silence.

“Most certainly not! They’re matching shorts.”

She stood up and lifter her nightie and guess what? She was telling the truth. They were matching shorts. Very short shorts. Almost hot pants.

She pulled her dressing gown closed, tied it up and sat down to continue with her breakfast. I covered up and finished mine. After breakfast I went back to my unit.

I still had no shower. It was still being worked on. The framing had been replaces. It was lined with waterproof cement sheeting and was covered in a waterproof membrane which had to dry. Hopefully today they would tile it.

The usual routine of going via our backyards to Di’s for my morning shower was again on the cards. Di was her usual self putting on breakfast. But she seemed a little edgy. She had her dressing gown done up tight. It was so high I couldn’t see which nightie she was wearing.

While sitting and talking before I had my shower she just came out with “I tried again last night and this time I slept the night through.”

It’s obvious now as I write this, but at the time I didn’t catch on to what she meant. It had no bearing on what we were talking about.

“Tried what?”

“Sleeping with no nightie silly.”

“Congratulations. You’re a big girl now.” I said with a smile.

“I can prove it.”

“How?”

“I’ll show you.” And she opened her gown to show me she had nothing on underneath. I know this doesn’t prove she slept naked, but I wasn’t going to argue logic with her now.

For someone in her mid 70s she in not to bad a shape. Wrinkles where thy are expected. A bit of a pot belly and weight on her bum and thighs. But on the whole very respectable. Her boobs are great. I guess that’s what no sun and wearing a bra over a lifetime does for them. They haven’t sagged much; her small light nipples still point forward and not down.

“Well, that’s all the proof I need then.”

“I think I like the feeling of being naked.”

With that I stood and took off my robe and let it fall on the floor.

Di had still been sitting. She stood up and removed her gown.

“Well it’s time for me to shower.” I said. “Do you want to come with me?”

Silence. I’d gone too far.

I winked. “Only if you want.”

“All right then. Let’s save some water.” she said.

That went better than expected. When I first asked I immediately regretted it. I “knew” it was wrong and wasn’t going to happen. It just came out. But if you never ask, you’ll never get.

I took Di by her hand and headed to the shower, turned it on and let it run until it was warm. I lead her in and followed her. Fortunately the showers in a retirement village are large so nursing aids can help with showering of that’s your need. They also have safety hand rails around the three tiled walls. It’s a requirement.

Di moved under the water and let it run down her back. There was a large pump action bottle of shower gel on the shelf beside the taps. I put some in my hand and started to rub it across her shoulders and upper back. She stepped back towards me so the water wasn’t running down her back and washing the soap off. This was a good sign. Very good. I continued to wash her, putting on more soap and working down to the small of her back.

“My turn now.” she said. “Under the shower you go.” Guiding me around her so I was now completely wet. We had swapped places. She now washed my back, from top to bottom and went lower down than the small of my back. With some more gel she moved in closer and from behind started on my upper chest, slowly working down to my stomach. I was as hard as a rock. She gelled up her hands some more and went back to my stomach and worked her way down even lower until she had me in her hands. One hand working my balls, the other my cock. I had hold onto a safety rail to keep my balance. My knees getting weaker. Her body was pressed up against mine. This was heaven. I could feel her warm chest and tummy up against me.

I turned around and hugged her, leaned forward, and went to kiss her. She turned her head down and said she didn’t feel right kissing. That was strange. She had handled me in a very sexual way, but it was no to a kiss. I didn’t want to press the issue so I stopped trying and backed away a little. Wondering if this was the end I placed one hand on her breast then cupped it. There were no complaints or resistance, so it was back on. I hugged her again and slid my hands down to her rear. I caressed her butt and tried to get a hand down between her legs fro behind. Not being able to reach, I turned side on to her and ran my palm down her stomach, through her pubic hair and let two fingers slide down between her legs. Her eyes closed. Between my two fingers I could feel her clit. It was small, but firming up.

Guiding her around so she was facing the shower wall opposite the rose I gently started to bend her over letting her know of my intention to enter her from behind. When she worked out exactly what I was trying to do she told me to stop. She couldn’t have sex because it hurt too much. I’d heard of vagina walls getting thin in older age and actually tearing, so I thought I understood.

She said “Don’t worry. We can do other things.” as she turned around to face me.

Loading her hands up with gel again she took hold of me with one hand and again cupped my balls with her other hand. The she started to stroke and massage. Massage and stroke. I was happy.

It didn’t take too long and I came, spurting out and landing right in her pubic triangle. She continued to stroke me more slowly with one hand and with her other she ran her fingers through my cum and pubic hair.

Gently I guided her around again and said I would not try and go inside her. With some gel on my hand and fingers I slid between her legs and started to stroke and massage. With her confidence growing she held onto the safety rail in front of her, bent over more and spread her feet a little. She said “That’s nice.”

Music to my ears.

I massaged. I stroked. There was lots of gel. It was warm, wet and slippery. I imagine it did feel nice. We continued on in silence for quite some time until she said that was enough. She was starting to get a little tender.

With that we soaped each other up completely and rinsed off.

Out of the shower we dried off then went out the the dining table and ate breakfast while still naked. It was such a comfortable and natural feeling.

While eating Di told me a few things about her past to explain what happened in the shower. When she was married her husband used to come home late from the pub drunk several nights a week. By this time Di was in bed, but never asleep. Sometimes he would demand sex. There was no foreplay, nothing. Just roll her onto her back and stick it in and kiss and slobber her all over her face with drunken breath. It hurt her a lot. Many times she said she bled after.

I said that was rape. She knows his now, but at the time she thought it was her duty as his wife to submit to sex when he demanded. After their children had all left home it got worse because there was no one to hear what was going on. He was getting more violent. Eventually Di left him. Packed her bags with everything she could fit in the car one day he was down the pub and that was it. Never saw him again. Apparently his drinking got worse, he lost his job, and eventually sold the house because of his debts. She was still down as a half owner of the house, so she got half of the money from the sale. This she used to by the unit she now lives in next to me.

I have to be careful with this lady. That’s not a problem. We both have plenty of time.

Our first shower was around eight months ago now. My shower was completed that day so I didn’t need to call in the next day. We have made this a weekly thing, each Tuesday morning we go to one of our showers and have a little (well actually a lot) of fun. Things have progressed and we also have fun outside of the shower. Sometimes we even have fun outside of our units.

If people are interested I can write up some of the things we have done on our Tuesday morning escapades, and some of the others too. Not everything is a Tuesday morning.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/7w7sqs/fun_in_retirement_part_3_di_for_a_shower_mf