Martha was thrown back and forth as the coach,uncontrolled now, left the crude road and veered off into the brush. With amighty crash it spun sideways...and rolled over onto its side, throwing Marthaagainst the roof. ???? Regaining her senses Martha checked herarms and legs. She was sore, but nothing was broken. The door of the coach wasnow above her. She reached up, turned the handle and gave it a shove. It rose,slowed briefly, paused as it came nearly vertical, thenflopped all the way over.. Her husband wasn't large, she'd always felt she had room for more. And now under the shower, her pussy was opening up and she could feel her clit start to make its presence felt. Her nipples were so stiff. Her fingers moved down to her sex and she parted her lips. Softly she started to rub her clit, as she imagined how it might feel for a tall strong man to want her, to feel her, to take her ...... but she couldn't give herself up to the fantasy, not here and now, after a busy session, and with. Even her hair style had bangs to hide any wrinkles in her forehead. She didn't understand that she was still beautiful. The slight amount of weight she had gained to her was just bloat: but well distributed, it actually gave her slim build a curvier figure, a more voluptuous look and her face a softer more pleasant appearance. Even menopause hadn't caused the drastic changes that plague many women. She didn't seem to know that she had merely gone from a hard bodied, sexually desirable, young. I wondered how often she had stroked that. Had she lay in bed only a few days ago and rubbed herself? I often found marks on her nightdress during my visits to her house that indicated that she had pressed the material into her slit – presuably during a masturbatory session. I spread her wider and saw her tight, long neglected fuck-hole. I ran my fingertip down to the entrance. She was dry as a desert – no point in trying to force a finger up there yet. Her legs tried to close reflexively but I.