In 1995, I was 43 years old and feeling just a twinge of mid-life crisis. Just a twinge though, as I had never really matured enough for it to hit me like I was seeing in most of my peers. Though I had been married a couple of times, I never had any kids to slow me down or make me aware of the passage of time. I spent my whole life as a beach lifeguard in an endless Summer. At my age, I was now in a supervisory role and had a pretty sweet gig. I was never going to get rich, but it was a good fit for a surf bum. I for sure appeared to be in better shape than almost all of my friends who took more conventional life paths. Life was good.

My parents were older than most people my age. I was the last pop out of the box, the product of a busted rubber, and they were both in their early 80s. They were having a hard time taking care of themselves at the old homestead, and I decided to hire them some help around the house, a little cleaning, cooking, etc. I lucked out as there was a young woman who lived just up the road that needed some part-time work, plus she lived close enough to keep an eye out for my folks even when she wasn't working there. I lived in another town, and it made me sleep easier to know a watchful eye was close by.

Shelly was 22 and a Mormon, complete with the traditional shapeless sack dresses they wore and long naturally wavy blonde hair straight out of a 60's Breck Girl shampoo ad. Her face was beatifically angelic, even if I could not quite see the body holding that face up, it looked as if it might be nice. Somehow, that made her even sexier, kind of a forbidden fruit thing going on. My mom told me she had gotten a divorce recently, an extra big deal when you are a Mormon. She didn't know the details, but my mom had met her husband a few times and said he seemed very nice. Of course, if a Mormon isn't nice, who will be? Evidently, they had just gotten back from some missionary work, like they all do, and immediately broke up. My mom said Shelly was very upset and depressed by this turn of events. She had just moved in with her folks up the road from us until she could get on her feet again.

Shelly and I hit it off right off the bat. I was up at my folks' doing repairs on their much-maintenance-deferred dwelling, trying to patch it together to last as long as my parents would be in the home. I was working on the roof with my shirt off when I came down for a glass of water and met Shelly in the kitchen. I could sense her checking me out in a sexual way, although very shyly. I got used to feeling that vibe from years on a lifeguard tower. She was hungry.

Me being agnostic, Shelly and I had many good talks about religion and life until my father finally passed, and my mother had to be placed in a geriatric facility because of dementia. I moved into the old homestead for a week to clean it up to sell. I missed talking with Shelly and had developed a strong sexual attraction to her to boot. I would still see her drive by the house, and she even stopped by a few times to say hi. There was definitely a connection between us I could not quite put my finger on. Shelly had a vibe of sexual frustration about her that I found highly erotic. She was not the usual party girl 'Beach Betty' that I was used to.

One day, towards the end of this huge project of getting the house ready to sell, Shelly called me on the phone. It seems her parents were out of town for some Mormon retreat deal, and she asked if I would like to come over to enjoy a home-cooked dinner at her house before I took off for good. She even mentioned how she had missed our conversation. I eagerly said yes, and we set it up for the next Saturday. I felt like a teenager on a first date somehow. I was just happy that me being 21 years older than her didn't seem to creep her out. My boyish immaturity was paying off. All kinds of wild fantasies were going through my head.

Saturday came around and when Shelly answered the door she wasn't wearing a baby doll, damn it, so my first sexual fantasy was shot down! She was still in her Mormon dress. She had cooked up a fine meal, and afterward we sat on her couch and caught up. We truly had missed talking with each other. Turns out her husband had been a "homosexual", and she had caught him in bed with another Mormon man. Shelly told me I was the only one she had told that, too. She also told me she felt inadequate as a wife, and maybe she could have "cured' him. I explained to her that being gay was not something you "cured", and she was a very attractive young lady. I also told her how honored I was for her to confide in my like that and how I felt a very deep connection between us too. Something changed instantly between us right then.

Shelly looked at me straight in my eyes and asked, "Do you think I am sexually attractive? I don't really know if I am or not. Sex with my husband was not very good for obvious reasons, I suppose. I just can't get the idea out of my head that I may have turned him into a homosexual."

"Oh, please have no doubt that you are very sexually attractive. I have been sexually attracted to you for months now." I replied, "I hope that doesn't sound like a dirty old man."

Right after those words left my mouth, I realized what I had just said, and there would be no taking it back. Shelly just looked into my eyes and said, "Thank you, I needed that. I have never gotten to taste the outside world's pleasures. I would sure like to once. I have a feeling you would be a very good and loving guide." And with that Shelly leaned over to me and kissed me lightly on the lips. Now I was the confused and shy one.

All I could manage to get out was a wholesome, "Oh wow, are you sure about that?" I suddenly turned from a 43-year-old worldly man into a teenage Wally Cleaver, acting as if Mary Ellen Rogers had just asked him to go to bed. Shelly kissed me again, this time longer and slower. A million reasons went through my mind of why this was a stupid and dangerous thing to do, but the male body does not have enough blood to operate the brain and an erect penis at the same time. We were designed to fuck. This time, I kissed Shelly back more passionately and gently cupped her right breast in my hand. Shelly moaned softly. We were off to the races.

We made out on the couch for a while, kissing and me feeling her body through her clothes, and it felt very good. Shelly's breasts were round and full, and I could not wait to suck on them. As we kissed, she was moaning more and more, and I could feel her excitement turning on. I slowly worked my hand up her leg and thigh, and finally to her crotch. She had on what I learned later was traditional modest cotton temple garments. Her pussy had already soaked through them. She was ready to go.

"Maybe we'd better find a bed", I said a little nervously, "Might as well do it right."

Shelly shakily took my hand and led me down the hall and into her bedroom. She then faced me, gave me a warm, slow kiss and raised her dress above her head, and threw it on the floor. Now she was only in her temple garments, or 'magic underwear', as the heathens called them. It is a one-piece, cotton affair that reminded me of women's underwear from the 1800s. Somehow, it was even more exciting than modern bikini underwear. It reminded me of a wild west whore in Western movies. I could see that Shelly's crotch area was soaked. She would be well-lubed for our session.

She slipped off her temple garments as they dropped to the floor, and I was now looking at an angel with wicked thoughts. Shelly's body was truly beautiful and angelic. Creamy white skin with full firm tits and a natural lightly hairy blonde bush. I quickly lost my shirt and shorts and embraced her with passionate kisses as I pushed her down on the bed. I took one breast in each hand and alternately kissed and sucked on them. Now Shelly was moaning like she was in a porn movie and rubbing her steaming cunt against my leg. I could not hold back anymore. I wanted in that pussy. I spread Shelly's Legs wide and slid my cock right in. It was truly heavenly. If Shelly had had wings I would have been fucking an angel. I started slowly, and she matched my every thrust and was speeding up on her own as her passion caught fire. After a while, I was pounding Shelly hard as she moaned and squealed in ecstasy. This girl was born to fuck.

This old man was finding it hard to keep up with her pace! I pulled Shelly by her hips to the edge of the bed so I could really bang her properly as I leaned over her. My balls were slapping now as her tits were flying, making complete circles with each thrust. Her passion continued to grow until she finally had a truly amazing orgasm that made her convulse like she was having a seizure. That did it for me too, as I pumped my load of baby seed deep into her pussy. This was the best sex I had ever had, way better than the parade of Beach Betties I had banged during the last 30 years. I was thinking maybe Mormon girls were the way to go.

I collapsed on top of her as she held me tight and we gently kissed in a post orgasm haze of spent passion. Shelly was actually sobbing a little. I asked her if everything was alright, and she assured me they were "happy tears", the result of a beautiful experience. That I could agree with 100%.

I stayed in town an extra week, as Shelly was an apt student of sexual pleasure. We dabbled in every position I could think of. Cowgirl and doggie style became two of her favorites. Seeing Shelly's awesome tits bouncing and swaying in those positions was a real treat, not to mention her newly learned and excellent blowjob skills. Our very last night together was the most amazing sex I had ever had. By the dawn's early light, we were both completely spent.

Our paths parted after those two weeks. Shelly eventually met a nice and hopefully horny Mormon man, had a slew of kids, and led an apparently happy life. I still get a Christmas card every year from her, always signed with a wink and a nod.