Female, Horny, Middle Aged and behaving Badly

As a woman - I am often surprised to find that many of us do not seem to be in touch with our sensuality or sexuality. Or maybe its because we are not willing to admit to having such feelings - no wonder we're sometimes called all manner of names. But I digress… I'm not saying that you should hit the town every night with a sign slung around your neck saying "I'm available." One still has to have an element of decorum and dignity about themselves, especially with the high rate of STD's lurking around the corner, buy one catch one free. But just be proud that you can experience these feelings about yourself. I often feel very good about myself. It's not a perverted thing, but a pleasurable feeling - an exciting sensation - part of life, so face up to it babes. Then again, when the lusting is directed at a man who is less than half ones age - then that is when it becomes a problem. (Do I hear someone say stone her?).

So, about two years ago I realised that I was heading to hell most rapidly. I was showing signs of becoming a frustrated ole bag and had my friend, God Bless her with many afflictions, Miss Goody-Two shoes, not pulled me up - I may now be dating a very young "boy" or as she wickedly put it "somebody's child." Oh how I wish God would bless her with many afflictions - can't a woman have a bit of fun? So on this particular morning and with the sun shinning and it being very warm and all that, my hormones had started to sluggishly kick in. After all I was no longer a spring chicken and the hormones took a lot longer to get themselves into gear. But as far as I was concerned, I wasn't dead yet and once those hormones got going - nothing would stop them raging. Oh how I roar!!

So on my way to work on this fine day - I went into a Greg's Bakery in Elephant & Castle, London, UK with a friend (yes even nutters like me have friends) and a fine young….very young man served her. I found myself drooling, my blood pressure rising dangerously high - which I mistook for the gentle flutter of lurv. I had to try and behave, I sadly surmised. I had to remind myself that I was in my mid thirties, a fine, mature, responsible, sensible, horny middle aged woman in the prime of her sexuality. And yes, somewhere in the very far recess of my mind, there was the idea that I did have two children. I still drooled anyway - so there. Therefore, as he was serving my friend I tried not to come across as wanton and other than unbuttoning my cardigan to expose a bit of bosom, well what was left of them had now drooped comfortably to site on my hips - all I could do was drool some more..... was he gorgeous or what. Had the rapture come at that point in time, I would've gone to hell a very happy bunny. So I was forced to put my hands behind my back and grasp them tight in case the urge to lounge over the counter took a hold of me and I pinned him urgently to the floor. (Tramp I hear you all say - Yeah you're right and I ain't ashamed).

I then decided that I too wanted to purchase something. Yessy, yessy, I too wanted to be his focal point for one second. I gazed at this and that, in serious contemplation as to
About the Author

Esther Austin is in her late thirties and is of Barbadian parentage. She is a published author of comedy, poetry and inspirational books, published under Think Doctor Publications Ltd. She is website Director of www.caribbeanwoman.co.uk. She has two boys, lives in London and loves going to the theatre, loves writing, eating out, playing football, and generally being physically active.

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