Faithful to Celeste for all thirty years of our marriage, I was devastated when illness took her from me. For months I wandered aimlessly around our big old house, missing her terribly, refusing the comfort of friends and relatives, viewing the future with dread. And then Daisy bounced into my life, turning it around completely.

After months of neglect, the house needed cleaning in the worst way. Having neither the energy nor the interest to tackle the job myself, I decided to heed the advice of a friend and hire a housekeeper. Not a full-time cleaning lady, but someone who would come by maybe two, three days a week to keep things in order. So I put an ad in the local paper, envisioning myself interviewing a bunch of tough-minded, tart-tongued old ladies seeking top dollar for minimum labor. I was not at all prepared for the bright-eyed, bushy-tailed young lady who showed up on my doorstep one bright sunshiny morning.

Before I could explain why I didn’t think she was right for the job, Daisy was off and running, hardly taking a breath as she told me how badly she needed a job, how dependable and hard working she was, how she could start immediately, and so on. Somewhere in there was the fact that she was a graduate student studying American history at the local university, that most of her savings had gone toward tuition, that she lived in a rooming house near school, and that she needed money for food, clothes and transportation. Wouldn’t I at least give her a chance? Please?

Looking back, I have to admit that my hiring of Daisy had as much to do with her bubbly personality and the allure of her compact little body as it did with the puppy-dog look she gave me as I mulled my decision. Approximately five-feet-two-inches tall, Daisy has curly blonde hair, pretty blue eyes, pert breasts and a perfectly rounded bottom. To respond to the energy she exuded struck me as perfectly right, but to be so impacted by her curvy figure and infectious smile was unnerving. After all, I was more than twice her age.

Daisy’s first day on the job was an unqualified success. As she dusted, vacuumed, straightened up the kitchen and generally put things in order, it became more and more apparent that I had made the right decision. At the day’s end, I congratulated her on a job well done. Daisy gave me a big smile and a peck on the cheek before scooting out the door. Smiling, I watched from the window as she scampered down the street.

In the weeks that followed, our boss-and-employee relationship evolved into friendship, despite the difference in our ages. Daisy started sharing her personal life with me, talking about her schoolwork, her goals in life, her family and friends. I, in turn, found myself opening up to her, speaking freely, comfortably, about my life with Celeste, the career I’d had in engineering, my golf game, the fact that I was a Civil War buff.

I realized that having Daisy around energized me, made me feel whole again. I was happier than I had been in a long time, and when she wasn’t in the house, I truly missed her. For her part, Daisy seemed genuinely impressed with my life experience, frequently seeking my advice on this and that, valuing my opinion. I delighted in her trust and respect.

But there was more: an undercurrent of sexual tension that was impossible to ignore. No man could fail to respond to Daisy’s charm — her youthful vitality, her bright-eyed optimism, the sight of her in a tight-fitting sweater and even tighter jeans — but the growing intensity of my need was almost frightening. And how thrilled I was when I first realized that she viewed me as a potential lover. That I had not been imagining those lingering smiles, the warmth of her touch, the way she would “accidentally” brush up against me, her eyes twinkling as if she knew a secret and wasn’t telling.

It all came to a head the day I offered Daisy a look at my collection of Civil War books and artifacts. On the sofa in the finished basement, we talked and laughed and talked some more. Then, suddenly, Daisy leaned into me and kissed me full on the lips. It was a quick, impulsive gesture. “I’m sorry,” she said softly, drawing back. “I shouldn’t have.”

Smiling, I took Daisy in my arms and kissed her, lightly at first and then more urgently, as I felt my cock begin swelling in my pants. Daisy responded, her tongue wending its way into my mouth as she pressed her small, firm breasts hard against my chest. She placed one hand on the back of my head as the other dipped down between my legs to close around the growing bulge there.

Daisy undressed me, and then I her, but where she had worked quickly, I took my time, baring her firm, compact body like one unwrapping a special present. When she was naked, I feasted on her beauty, my eyes and hands roving here, there, everywhere to enjoy the smoothness of her unblemished flesh, the firmness of her breasts and bottom, the sparkle in her eyes. Finally Daisy bade me sit back on the sofa and then knelt between my legs.

“I just knew you’d have a nice big one,” she said, cradling my cock in her small hands. And then she was licking it, swabbing the head first and then sliding her tongue down the sensitive underside, now planting little kisses on the other side as she returned to the head. She took a moment to lick away a drop of pre-come before opening wide to take my cock in her mouth.

A soft moan escaped my throat as Daisy started sucking me, and when she paused and looked up at me with my cock in her mouth and bloating her sweet cheeks, I almost lost it. Although I had assumed that Daisy was sexually active, I was still surprised at her cocksucking expertise. It was obvious that she enjoyed sucking on a cock, her enthusiasm combining with her skill to keep me in seventh heaven. When she finally relinquished my cock and climbed up into my lap, I was aching to feel the wet warmth of her golden-haired pussy.

“Oh, yes, I want to sit on it,” Daisy said excitedly, placing the saliva-coated head of my cock at the entrance to her sex. She lowered herself slowly onto my pole of flesh, an inch or so at a time, whimpering happily and then letting out a throaty moan when all seven inches were comfortably ensconced inside her. “You feel so good inside me, George,” she said, wiggling her hips.

And then she was moving up and down, her hands gripping my shoulders as she rode my cock. I brought my hands up to her pert breasts and squeezed, enjoying their spongy firmness. “I’ve wanted to do this for a while now,” Daisy was saying, continuing to bounce up and down on me. “It’s wonderful.”

It was all that and more, and as I reached around to take hold of her bobbing asscheeks, I gave silent thanks to whatever god had seen fit to drop such a delightful girl on my doorstep. Up and down, up and down Daisy moved, coming once while rocking on my cock and then a second time when, unable to hold back any longer, I groaned and shot my semen into the butter-soft cove of her pussy.

Daisy rested atop me for a while, laying her head on my shoulder and purring contentedly as I stroked her back and buttocks. Then she sat up and smiled. “Can we do it again? I mean, after you rest and all. I don’t want to tire you out, of course.”

I had to laugh at that. I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt so vital, so alive. Without a word, I lifted Daisy off me and put her on the sofa, then went about feasting on her beautiful pussy. In no time at all, the taste and scent of her, combined with her cries of delight as my tongue rummaged in the folds of her sex and caressed her clitoris, had me stone-hard again. This time Daisy wanted it from behind, and I was quick to oblige.

As she knelt in front of the sofa, her breasts mashed against the seat cushion, I got on the floor behind her and without delay slid easily into her soaking pussy. Daisy moaned and told me to give it to her hard, which I did, my hands locking onto her hips as I pounded into her. I savored the tightness of her young pussy, her sounds of pleasure, the knowledge that I was still stud enough to satisfy such a delicious young woman. When Daisy came I was right behind her, my come spilling into her contracting pussy.

“Whew — that was terrific,” Daisy said when she could speak. “I just knew you’d be a great lover.”

Well, that was five months ago and Daisy is still keeping house for me. She’s also living with me. Where this will all end, I have no idea. I do know that she has given meaning to my life, infused it with excitement, a sense of adventure. Celeste, of course, will always occupy a special place in my heart, and our many wonderful years together will never fade from memory. I like to think that my wife is smiling down at me, pleased by what has transpired, happy in the knowledge that now there is another woman, albeit a much younger one, to take care of me. How lucky I am!