Older Woman: The Erotica Writer Next Door

Toby filed for divorce when he was 24 years old, after his wife cheated on him. He had disturbing, intrusive thoughts of the time when he was still married.
He moved to a small coastal town where he carved out a new life for him. A coastal town with mostly retirees and no real prospect of meeting a woman his age.
Toby bought naughty magazines each month, and he also lightly indulged in reading erotica.

***

Roughly a year after I had relocated to Marclesfield, I became aware of someone next door. It was a sunny Saturday, and there was early in the morning already an uncomfortable humid heat in the air.
I was in the backyard, on my way to the pool, when the delicious aroma of fried bacon tempted my nose. Nobody was living next door, and nobody even visited during the holidays, so my curiosity was ignited. I made my way to the wooden fence, and then I peeked over. There was a faded red towel on a deck chair, and on a wooden table, there was an ashtray, a glass filled with what looked like orange juice, and something that grabbed my attention. A typewriter. Not an electric one, but I could see from where I peeked over the fence that it was a mechanical one. I retreated, but I stayed low, hunched down, close to the fence. I heard shuffling sounds, and then the smell of cigarette smoke drifted toward me. I dared to peek over the fence again. Behind the desk, facing away from me, was a woman typing away on the typewriter. To her right was a plate piled high with crispy bacon. The bacon remained untouched while she finished her cigarette. Wet, curly blonde locks with silvery gray streaks cascaded over her bare shoulders. She was wearing what looked like a yellow bikini. I squinted my eyes, looking at her, and realized that she had to be a lot older than me because I could make out age lines on her exposed skin, at her elbows, the backs of her arms, and the sides of her neck that were partly visible.

***

Once, he surprised me with a visit. My latest nudie magazine was on the wooden coffee table in the living room. He lit a cigar and sat down. I saw the magazine, and with my heart thumping wildly in my chest, I prayed he would not see it. Of course he did. He picked it up, paged through it, unfolded the centerfold, nodded approvingly, smacked his lips, and then closed the magazine and put it back onto the polished surface of the table.
“Remember, Toby, no parties and no smoking inside the house,” he said as he got up. He crushed the fat cigar in the marble ashtray. “And get laid. I went through a divorce four times,” he laughed.

***

With that fantasy in mind, I went outside to smoke in the nude, like I had done many nights before.
I sat down with my feet in the pool while I enjoyed a cigarette. The moon and stars were obscured by clouds, and there was barely any movement in the air. It was hot and humid. I moved my feet in the water.
Suddenly, a muted gasp tore through the air. The sound startled me, and I froze. Did it come from next door? Even worse, did it come from the fence? I looked at the fence, not even blinking. I heard nothing and saw nothing, but I was sure of that sound.

***

An erotic story of around 11,200 words involving an older woman and a younger man. Explicit descriptions of sex.