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She turned to her favourite activity of minutely adjusting her hair and make-up.Amelia turned towards me. "Could we have a word? Over there." She nodded towards a shady corner near a ruined arch.We walked across. Helena, scowling, sat back down on her lounger."We can't let her carry on like that!" Amelia seemed very insistent, suddenly. She appeared quite unlike the mousey, quiet woman I had come to know over the last few days. "This all needs to be done quietly." Well, I'm not sure how we can persuade her," I began, but then noticed Amelia seemed distracted, peering behind me at something over my shoulder. "What's she up to now?" I said, assuming that Helena was the cause of Amelia's concern."Shut up and keep still," Amelia snapped and bent down to rummage in her carpet bag. She pulled out a long-barrelled revolver and, in one movement, crooked her arm to steady the barrel, sighted, cocked, and fired. There was a thunk as the silenced shot spat by me. "What on earth!" I exclaimed. I would ***** naked and leave the bedroom door open and she was always the first to come upstairs next. I would time it and manage to let her see me naked as I pretended to set my alarm or pull back the bed sheets. Often she would leave her bathroom with only her panties on, clutching her clothes to cover her breasts. Often she and I would go for a swim in my pool. She would dry off and then pull a shirt over her shoulders and take her bathing suit off in front of me, skillfully pulling the shirt down as she went. Kind of a striptease act without showing anything but I found it quite arousing as she always did it looking straight at me. I never acted on it until my FIL passed suddenly. This was 24 years into my marriage. They had retired to Florida and she immediately came to our house for the funeral. We were all distraught but my sexual feelings for her remained. The morning of the funeral my wife was working on a collage on the living room floor. We were all in our bed clothing.
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