A married woman discovers her bi side
After fifteen years of being married to the same man I
was bored. Bored to tears. It isn't that Charles isn't
a good husband. As a matter of fact, he is a wonderful
husband, as well as a good Father to our seventeen-
year-old daughter Nancy. He has been employed at
Blue Cross/Blue Shield for all of these years as a
manager in the claims department and has provided
Nancy and I with a stable and caring home. By the way,
my name is Carolyn. Carolyn Hawthorn.
It isn't even as though our sex lives were bad, even
though sex too has become somewhat boring of late.
Lately it has taken me an effort to attain an orgasm
when we have sex, mostly because there is never
anything new and exciting to stimulate me. I'm afraid
Charles is too comfortable in the routine that has
developed between us through the years. The
"missionary position" seems to satisfy him. On rare
occasions I do "go down" on him, but he refuses to
ejaculate in my mouth even though I have assured him
that it would be all right to do so. He says he thinks
it a bit gross.
At the comparatively young age of thirty-seven, Charles
is already beginning to bald, his hair very thin in the
front so that he has no "widows peak" at all. He has to
wear glasses and he is developing a noticeable paunch
in his belly. But even with all that, I do love him'for
his gentleness and for his caring. However, I must
admit that in my fantasies I have imagined being with
another man. Lying in bed at night after Charles has
rolled off of me and fallen quickly asleep, I lay there
in the dark and masturbate myself to an orgasm as I
create my fantasy lovers in my mind.
But even If I seriously wanted to have a brief affair
with another man, I had always thought it would be
quite difficult to accomplish. There is a good reason
for my thinking that way. We live in a VERY small town
in western Indiana with a population of under nineteen
hundred people, and most of them are farmers or simply
"down home" country folk, if you will. I had always
figured the "picken's" would be extremely thin even if
I wanted to have an extra marital affair.
But I had forgotten one thing I guess. The people who
live in our town are for the most part the same sort of
people who live in the big cities like Chicago or
Indianapolis. They live, love and have sex just like the
other folks do. It's just that it's necessary to hide
things better when the town is so small that your
neighbor knows when you so much as let a fart.
*
I didn't learn about the seamier side of our town until
one Saturday evening when Charles and I went to the
Moose Lodge for dinner. They always have a band on
Saturday evenings so we enjoy listening to the music.
More times than not the band is small and usually off
key, but we enjoy it anyway. The tables at the Moose
are the long type that sit maybe twelve or so persons, so
there is always someone sitting next to you. But since
everyone has at least a nodding acquaintance with
everyone else at the Moose, it isn't all that bad. As it
happened on that particular Saturday night, I found
myself seated next to Winnifred Martin.
Winnie, as she is called, is the music teacher at our
local high school. In her early thirties, she is a tiny
little thing, no more that five feet tall and slender
as a reed.
She has ash blonde hair and pale blue eyes that people
have referred to as "washed out" when commenting on
her eyes. Unmarried, she of course is considered
already to be an "old maid school teacher". I knew that
Nancy is one of her students so I at some point asked
her casually how my daughter was doing in school. She
was absolutely gushing as she began to sing the praises
of how well Nancy was doing and what a lovely girl
she was. Then she commented how cute it was to see all
the boys buzzing around my daughter like "bees around
a pot of honey".
Her comment took me by surprise a little. Although
Nancy and I are very close, I had never thought about
her as being sexually attractive to boys. But of course
she has to be. She is a beautiful girl and possesses a
body that had fully matured. Winnie's remark about the
boys hanging around like "bees around a pot of honey"
struck me as being full of sexual connotation. I was
surprised to feel an unfamiliar flutter deep in the pit
of my stomach as I thought about my daughter, and I was
suddenly aware of something else. When Winnie had
said what she had said, there had been just the
slightest trace of jealousy in her tone. But jealous of
whom? I asked myself. Nancy? Or the boys? Could it be
that Winnie was unmarried because she was a lesbian?
After making certain that no one close was paying any
attention to us, I leaned towards Winnie and said that I
was glad that Nancy was doing so well in school, but
that I worried about her and the boys and all. I laughed
softly and said that I couldn't blame the boys though,
that my daughter had a beautiful body and I only
wished that I looked as good as she does. Winnie
touched my wrist and giggled. "Oh stop it'. you have
a beautiful body and you know it Carolyn."
As I sat there thinking about things, I began to get ever
more curious. At that point I did something that I would
never have considered myself capable of doing.
Reaching forward to pick up my glass of wine from the
table, I managed to press the side of my leg against
Winnie's, accidentally on purpose as it were. There
should be no doubt in her mind but that I was doing it
deliberately. I almost held my breath as I waited to see
what her reaction would be, then I felt her hand slide
under the table to rest on my knee. (the lodge covers the
tables with white cloths that are much too wide for the
narrow tables so that they drape down all the way to
one's lap)
I could feel her fingers trembling slightly as if she were
waiting for some sort of signal from me, some sort of
encouragement to continue. I turned my head to look
toward the bandstand as if to pay attention to the music,
at the same time I spread my knees wide apart in open
invitation. Her reaction was immediate. A shiver raced
up and down the length of my spine as her hand moved
up my leg until her fingertips lightly brushed against
my crotch. I cursed myself silently for having worn
both pantyhose as well as panties.
She began lightly rubbing me, at the same time having
a quiet conversation with Margaret Hastings who was
seated directly across the table from us. It was hard for
me to believe that I was actually letting Winnie "feel
me up" right there at the table with my husband seated
beside me. But I could feel myself growing wet ,my
nipples blossoming almost painfully so as they pressed
against the inside of my bra. (my nipples have always
been ultra sensitive, so much so that it was impossible
for me to breast feed my daughter when she was a
baby) I have heard of other women with the same
problem.
Finally Winnie withdrew her hand from under my skirt
and raised them to the top of the table again. She waited
a while until no one was noticing, then spoke softly to
me again, saying that it was too bad that we couldn't
carry things a bit further. In sudden inspiration, I
raised my voice so others could hear. "Winnie? I have a
splitting headache and Charles is having such a good
time, I wonder if I might impose on you to drive me
home?"
Hearing me, Charles turned and draped his arm across
my shoulders. "It's okay, honey, we can go now! I'll
take you home." There was genuine concern in his
voice.
"No, no," Winnie said quickly. "I was ready to go
anyway, Charles. I have to get up early tomorrow! I'll
take your wife home and see that she gets in all right."
"Yes Charles," I said. "It's just a little headache. You
stay and enjoy yourself and I'll see you when you get
home! I insist on it!" Before he could make any further
objections, I stood and leaned down and kissed him on
the forehead. "I'll see you at home."
A few people at the table who had heard made small
sounds of commiseration as Winnie and I quickly left
the table and moved to the door. The parking lot was
deserted as we made our way to Winnie's ancient
Buick'so ancient it still had a bench seat in the front.
Neither of us said anything as she started the car and
drove expertly out of the parking lot. Then as we pulled
out onto the road, she turned her head to look at me.
"That was quick thinking," she said. "The headache I
mean!"
"Yes," I said, suddenly nervous and embarrassed. I took
a deep breath. "Winnie? I've never'I mean I haven't
been with another woman before."
"I know," she said softly. "Just relax, okay? Why don't
you slide over here beside me and we'll make out like
teenagers do."
I had to laugh at that, but even so I slid over on the
seat closer to her. "Teenagers? It's been a long time
since I was a teenager, Winnie!"
"I know'but isn't your daughter home?"
"Yes," I said. I hadn't thought of that. We couldn't very
well do anything at my house, and Winnie hadn't said
anything about going to her place. I didn't even know
where she lived. "So I guess we'll be teenagers," I said
lightly.
"Okay girl," she grinned at me, "why don't you take
off those damned pantyhose while I find us a place to
park for a while?"
Feeling myself blushing, I lifted my rump up off the
seat and pulled the hem of my skirt up to my waist. In
that awkward position, I managed to skim my
pantyhose and panties down below my knees. Sitting
down again with my skirt still hiked up, I pulled my
feet out of my underwear and stuffed panties and hose
into my purse. Pulling suddenly into a darkened
driveway, Winnie pulled up beside a huge white house
and turned off the ignition and the lights. I looked
around nervously.
"Don't worry," Winnie said quickly. 'This is old man
Carson's place. He's gone off to visit his brother in
Indianapolis. There's no one else here. We'd have a lot
more room in the back seat though," she added softly.
My legs felt numb as I climbed out of the front and slid
onto the back seat of the car. I didn't resist as Winnie
pulled me into her arms and kissed me, parting my lips
as her tongue speared into my mouth. As I sucked at her
tongue, I felt her hand move into the hollow of my
crotch and her fingers lightly touched the lips of my
pussy. Then she began probing deep inside me with
first one and then two fingers. Finally her lips slid
from my mouth to nibble lightly at my ear.
"I want to eat your cunt," she murmured huskily into
my ear. "Do you want me to lick your pussy for you?"
"Yes," I moaned, so sexually aroused that I was dizzy.
She pushed me back against the door of the car and
helped me lift my feet onto the seat, my legs straddling
her. I heard a little whimper escape her lips as she bent
down and pressed her face into the hollow of my crotch,
then her tongue touched me. I clutched the back of her
head and pulled her face even tighter against my cunt
and I heard myself mewing like a kitten when her tongue
swirled around my erect clit. Then she was sucking and
licking me and making me feel sensations I had never
felt before in my life. I could feel the orgasm building
inside me and then it was as if a dam had been let loose.
"I'm coming!" I heard myself almost screaming in the
pleasure of it, "I'm coming Nancy! I'm coming!" I
didn't even realize that I was screaming my daughter's
name.
to be continued...
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