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A short look at a stage in a woman’s life when she attains some freedom from the restraints of marriage and children.
Not sure if the story will make it any further. We shall see.
At last with both the kids finally into school, Megan could now spend some time during the empty days trying to figure out what to do with her life. Over the early weeks, she revelled in the quietness of the house, rattling around in it on her own, not having to spend an hour rounding up one or more of the children just to go out to the shops or the supermarket, not having to listen to the incessant noise of cartoon characters on the television. The lunchtime struggle to get them to eat something other than spaghetti hoops was a particular nightmare.
Peace, until the school holidays.
After this short period of bliss, Megan came to a realisation that she needed more. She needed to develop an interest outside the domestic cocoon that she had built around the family in the seven years since they had arrived. The youngest boy, now four, was at last starting his school life, the daughter already two years into her academic career.
So, after the Monday school run, sharing the usual pleasantries with the other parents at the gates, all of them waving goodbye to their offspring, she thought initially she would head on home. Half way there though, it occurred to her that there were better places to go to for a quiet think.
When Mark and Megan were courting and even when they first married, they spent quite a lot of their spare time on the Ridgeway near the ancient hill-fort. It seemed like an age since the couple had been there together. Now she could please herself and the only pressure was that she needed to be back at school in the afternoon to pick up her babies and feed them their tea.
The day was sunny, as she drove into the ridgeway car park. There were only a couple of other cars there so she knew that she would be able to climb to the top, sit on the grass bank and just look out over the valley in complete peace and quiet.
As she reached the top, she saw that there was a new bench that hadn’t been there in the early days. This was a bonus and certainly more comfortable than a slightly muddy grass patch. Reading the words chiselled into the back, it told her that Mrs Loveday had donated it in memory of her late husband two years before. ‘Nice of her.’ Megan thought idly as she parked her behind on the oak slats. She wondered what George Loveday, born 1937, died 2014, was like. No mention of any children but obviously Mrs Loveday missed him and thought enough of him to want to remember him and their life together. Megan chuckled to herself at the thought that Mark might merit an oak bench in his commemoration.
It is perhaps mystifying how recollections are triggered by a sound or in this case, seeing something familiar. Her mind wandered as she focussed on the view from the bench: she remembered how one evening, a while into their boyfriend and girlfriend relationship, the two of them were sitting on the small picnic blanket he had carried up with them. They had settled in a little hidden area close to the small copse which she could now see in the distance. Mark turned and kissed her, then moved his hand, carefully lifting her top so that he could touch the bare skin just above her waist. Not the first time they had kissed but this was the first time he had gone any further. She remembered the sharp little shock she felt when his fingers touched her skin. She knew at that time there was nothing she wanted more than to be with him and to be excited by him.
Instinctively she moved closer to him and before she knew what had happened, his hands were under her bra fondling her breasts. Something was happening with her breathing, she couldn’t seem to get enough oxygen but it was so beautiful. She could feel herself trembling. They were both aroused and secretly Megan wanted him to do whatever he wanted with her.
Somewhat clumsily they managed to move around so that she was lying on her back looking up at the early evening sky, eyes half closed, melting into the moment. Reaching up, she pulled his head down to her, once more savouring the taste of his lips. In the back of her mind though, Megan knew that she couldn’t let him go too far as, although secluded, this was a public place. The thought of being seen in a compromising situation was not a good one.
By isveçbahis now though his wandering hand had moved lower and was fumbling to get past the waistband of her jeans. She didn’t stop him as he popped the top button but she was a bit embarrassed about the stickiness she could feel in her knickers. She hoped that if she let him go further he wouldn’t be turned off.
“I’m a bit wet down there Mark,” She whispered in his ear, “be gentle.”
“It’s OK, I just want to touch you, you’re really beautiful, I won’t hurt you I promise.”
His hand moved down, then, his finger gently explored her, slipping along the crevice, making her jump a little as he touched, unwittingly, sensitive spots. Making no effort to enter her, he did press his lower body against her so that she could feel through their clothes the hardness of him.
Bringing her back to the present, Megan’s thoughts were interrupted as a couple of ramblers passed by the bench. Looking across, they acknowledged her and she gave a little smile and a wave in return. She wondered if they realised what was going through her mind at that moment. No of course they didn’t. She had been deep in her thoughts but there was no way that they could have sensed her mood.
They were a young couple in their early twenties. As they walked on by, she found herself staring at the tall slim back of the young man and wondered if his fingers had spent time exploring his female friend. The vision lasted a few moments before she snapped herself back to reality.
The realisation that she had become a frustrated housewife flashed through her mind. At first sex with Mark, from her limited experience, was good. He was attentive to her needs and she had become a little more adventurous with him. Time however had turned their sex life into something of a routine, mostly when the kids were asleep in their rooms. Spontaneous sexual activity had pretty much ceased to happen.
Turning back to her daydreaming on Mr Loveday’s wooden bench she recollected the first time they had real sex together. It was in the back of Mark’s small Ford van. He had purchased it with some help from his parents so that he could get to the technical college in the next town each day. She knew that he had planned to get a bit more serious in their relationship as there were a couple of blankets in the back which she had noticed that day when he picked her up from her parent’s house.
“Shall we go down to the coast and have a look at the seaside?” Mark asked her.
“Yes please, that will be really nice.” The enthusiasm in her voice made him smile and with a quick kiss, they were on their way.
She recollected that it was a warm Sunday. Perhaps it wasn’t, but every memory of that summer involved a sunny day. At any event, the day spent in the shadow of the cliff, paddling out into the sea and making sandcastles was a fond memory. Fish and chips from the little shop in the village and a Mr Whippy ice cream was the icing on the cake.
“Let’s drive up to the top of the cliff and watch the sun go down?” he suggested as the evening approached.
Without any hesitation she replied, ” Oh yes, I’d like that,” and after a pause, “I don’t have to be home early anyway.” Why she added that she wasn’t sure but she wanted him to know that she was happy to be with him and had no urge to get back to her parent’s house.
Finding a place to park up away from other cars, he leaned over and kissed her. She returned the kiss allowing him access to her breasts which he so loved to fondle. His hands were warm but the touch of him instantly made her nipples stand up. He took them between his fingers and gently played with them, the touch sending shivers through Megan’s body.
“Wait a moment,” she murmured, “I want to take my top off for you.”. It took seconds for her to pull the tee shirt over her head and unclip the bra. Running her hands over them now that they were out of their confinement, she waited for his touch.
For a moment, he looked at her, naked from the waist up, offering herself to him before pulling her towards him and kissing her as his hands wandered over her, unencumbered with the clothing he was used to. He could touch and look and she could feel his excitement when she dropped her hand into his lap. Mark wanted her to hold him, not just touch him through the material of his trousers.
“Get in the back of the van with me Megan,” he urged her, “I want to love you properly.”
She isveçbahis giriş knew this was what he wanted and she did as well. “Come on then.”
He climbed over the seats first and spread out the blankets he had brought with them. Holding out his hand in invitation, she needed no further encouragement. She joined him, not quite sure why but trying to cover her breasts with one arm, as she navigated her way over the seats.
With a flurry of activity, he managed to remove her knickers from under her skirt. They got a bit hooked up in her trainers, but with a lot of giggling she managed to kick them free. His fingers moved to fondle the slick warmth that by now, after several heavy dates, he was fairly familiar with. This time though and with Megan’s encouragement he slipped one finger into the tightness of her sexual opening. He felt the lubrication from her which made his exploration even more exciting.
“Unbutton your trousers Mark.” It wasn’t a request “I want to feel you properly.”
Reaching down she started to tug at his belt. “Take them off for me.”
Very soon, his lower garments were around his ankles and she had him in her hand, marvelling at the hardness of him. Reaching down, he took her hand, guiding her fingers around the shaft moving the hand with his, slowly up and down, sometimes pulling his foreskin back and then covering the head again. When he took his hand away, she continued the sensual movements.
He knew that he would soon have to stop her, he didn’t want to come yet. Rolling back from her he produced a silver foil package from somewhere.
“What’s that?” she asked, curious as to what he was doing.
“It’s a condom, I don’t want you to get pregnant.”
He managed, a little inexpertly perhaps, to get it rolled down as he had practiced in the security of his bedroom. Then carefully moving above her placed the head of his manhood against the entrance to her vagina.
“Be careful Mark, I’m a bit nervous but go on do it, put it in.”
Slowly he pushed and it began the journey. Megan had to stop him a couple of times as it was a little painful but gradually she was comfortable and was able to lift herself towards him as he moved into her. He couldn’t last too long and she felt the throbbing as his orgasm happened and he fell forwards onto her.
“I’ve done it.” She thought but it was a strange experience. Not quite the explosion that she had expected but she was happy that Mark seemed to be satisfied. To her, at that moment, it was all that mattered.
“Bloody hell.” The words ran through her mind; snapping her back to reality. The slats on Mr Loveday’s memorial bench had begun to numb the cheeks on her bum. Wriggling around to restore the circulation caused an amount of friction between her thighs and she realised that she was a bit turned on, the proof being the moistness she could feel which had seeped onto the gusset of her panties.
Masturbation was one of the pleasures she allowed herself when she was at home on her own. The discovery of her ability to make herself climax with her own stimulation had led initially to an almost daily exercise in the art. It hadn’t happened before she married, her life was quite celibate and there was something of a guilt barrier about touching herself like that.
In her younger days she had often lain in bed and tested the sensual side of her body but had stopped at that. Then later with Mark, both during their courtship and after their marriage, it was something of a problem between the two of them, partly due to his lack of understanding of the way the female body worked and partly because the few times when they were having sex and she came close, she hadn’t made the effort to push the boundaries with him just enough to get to that unknown conclusion. It hadn’t bothered Mark nor Megan but they both knew something was missing.
Megan had, quite late on in their marriage, discovered the gratification which it gave her one afternoon whilst she was alone, watching a particularly erotic movie Mark had recorded. She still didn’t know why she became so stimulated, especially as it was two girls acting out a lesbian scene. There had been other times when the screen portrayed lesbianism but it had never aroused her before. This time there was a sensuous and very erotic thread which although not graphic grabbed her attention. The content took her by surprise when the two young women suddenly touched their lips isveçbahis yeni giriş together in a kiss which developed into a passionate embrace. The story had been building and the culmination was that of two naked bodies giving pleasure to each other. It may have been simulated on screen, but was real enough for the viewer, oral sex and finally, a realistic orgasm.
With her jeans and panties slipped down around her knees she ran her fingers between the outer lips of her vagina, coaxing it open and pushing two fingers inside to feel the remarkable slickness and moisture there. For the first time ever, she put her fingers to her face, smelling and then tasting herself.
Returning to her mons, she played in her pubic hair and then gently pulled herself open until she felt the hard bud of her clitoris, once again slipping two fingers into the warm sensual opening. The unusual sexual feeling without Mark, made her whole body stiffen, but gripping her thighs tightly with her fingers still captive, increased the sexuality of the moment.
Relaxing just a little so that she could once more move her fingers rhythmically across and then around that engorged little nub it happened. Huge pulsations in her stomach causing her to arch up and push the palm of her hand hard against her sex and she was coming. A huge orgasm burst upon her which left her almost insensible with the ferocity of it.
Now she knew what she had been missing and was a little stunned by the resultant feeling of euphoria and satisfaction within her mind and body.
“Christ, that was so good.” She thought as she lay there in the afterglow, gently continuing the fingering in the warmth of the secretions. Once more she turned her attention to the so sensitive clitoris, still engorged and pushing forwards from the hood that normally covered it. A few touches and she realised that a second orgasm was on the way. Kicking her Jeans off, she threw her legs apart naked from the waist down. Just that action in itself was exhilarating and within seconds the release hit her. Not as hard as her first but very satisfying nonetheless.
She wanted to do it now. Being out in the sunshine in the fresh air added to the basic excitement she could feel. There was nobody in sight so, lifting up a little, she slipped her underwear down and off. The gusset was quite slippery where it had been pressing against her outer lips. Megan felt a curiosity about the secretions and slid her finger along the material.
Why the hell did dog walkers believe that people wanted to converse with others that they passed on their walks. She still had her white satin knickers in her hand and quickly rolled them up, pretending that they were an innocent handkerchief.
“Oh, good morning, lovely day isn’t it.” A statement from Megan which neither she nor the walker felt a need to add to. She smiled and then looked off into the distance, letting the walker know that the courtesy of the meeting had come to an end.
Annoyed that her mood and concentration on memories past had been broken, she felt that she needed to satisfy the sensations which had built up in her body and which were manifest in the wetness which was gently lubricating her inner labia.
The excitement of doing it in a fairly public place was such a turn on today. She felt the urge increase just by the simple act of squeezing her thighs together and pushing downwards to tighten her stomach muscles, then relaxing and opening her legs. It was as if she was exhibiting her sexual excitement to an invisible audience of interested onlookers.
Fortunately, the skirt of the dress she was wearing was quite voluminous. She slid her hand beneath the material and the first touch of her finger on her sensitised clitoris was as if she had been touched by a magic wand. A sensation that she knew she must continue to build on. By now, she didn’t care if a whole army of Saxons were standing in front of her.
Her practised fingers moved around in the secretions, slippery, warm and wet. Moving across the nub, then each side, circular motions flowing in sinuous movement with the graceful expression of release that she knew would soon come. As it did, the fingers dipped inside, the walls gripping them as the orgasm came. She almost cried out as it happened, but she held back the sound, looking around to make sure that she was still alone.
She thought that she might have left some evidence on Mr Loveday’s bench. “Fuck him.” She actually said the words out loud and with a gesture to make sure the old boy could enjoy her orgasm as much as she did, she wiped her sticky fingers across his name.
“Hope you enjoyed it old boy.”
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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