Ellen sighed and gingerly laid half the length of the electric facial massager against that most needful part of her body, directly between her legs. It was the sensible, logical way for a young widow like herself to ease away tensions without involving herself with sticky relationships. The facial massager had been a wise purchase, discreetly done through the mail. With it, she could live a much more contented and tranquil life in the suburbs, puttering around in her garden, doing her needlepoint, ignoring the neighbors who so pointedly ignored her, forgetting about her runaway daughter, Carole.

She reached down and twisted the knob that set the massager to buzzing, and at once was amazed at the thing.

Ellen knew very well the white, tapered plastic cylinder in her hand was a dildo. It was a battery-operated cock expressly designed for the hot, aching cunts of horny old bitches like herself. And shit, did her brand new electric cock ever feel good as it buzzed and purred against hot, healthy pink cuntflesh that hadn't felt anything more than the kiss of her panties' crotchband for almost two years!

Ellen's panties were now on the shag carpet in front of the couch, along with her white linen shorts. She was up on the couch, still wearing her blue halter top, and trying to catch her breath in order to catch up with the dynamically warm tinglings spreading out from between her widely parted legs.

Her posture on the couch was obscene, and she loved it. Leaned back against the cushions, she had her bare feet on the edge of the couch and her knees up and widely out. Her cunt, smoothly bordered with fine black hair that rose to a tuft on her pubis, had its frilly pink lips wide open and already watering for more of the dildo's caress.