Isabel's Obsession

"What is wrong?" Paul stood up, and looked about, removing the lock upon her fixated eyes, but what she had seen, had already been seared into her very cortex. "What is it?" Paul said, taking a step closer to her.

"Nothing, nothing, honestly. I....I thought I saw a hornet close to your back. But these glasses are not good for distance." She lied, because that was exactly what they were for. "Maybe it was just a leaf?"

"Ahh, you had me worried there, I thought you were being attacked or something?"

"No, no, really. I was just a little shocked by what I saw." Of that, she was certainly not lying. Her body was in a state of shock, and she was so pleased that he had unwittingly removed from her sight, that which would have caused another orgasm in a matter of a few more seconds. As she had already found out twenty minutes earlier.

Isabel was somewhat of a sexual recluse. Other than her partner, she had never seen a man's penis before. Philips' penis was about five inches, but was made less potent, by his beer belly and his ED. When he was able to get it erect, he could only ever penetrate her by a couple of inches. She didn't know it, but that was one of the reasons why sex, was less than satisfying for her. For now though, she was concentrating on trying to removing the image of Paul's penis from her mind. If she couldn't, then it would be another first for her that afternoon; as she would inevitably display to only the second person in her life, her body in orgasmic bliss.

"So," said Paul, thankfully changing the subject. "What is it that you wanted to ask me to do for you? I have a little free time, and am willing to help if I can." Paul had moved a little closer still, and she was able to clearly make out the outline of the bulge, within his shorts. Which was very prominent in her eye-line and was therefore not helping matters at all.

"Well, there are a few things that I need seeing to, but honestly Paul, I don't want to impose upon you, and can just as easily get someone else in. Though I know Philip is worried that we will be taken for a ride, by any so-called experts, because we really do not have a clue."

"Well, Isabel, it is entirely up to you. I am willing and certainly able."

"Ohh Paul, of that I have no doubt." She responded breathlessly, instinctively and regretfully.

"Look, why don't you show me, and I can tell you what I think? There cannot be any harm in that?"

'My God,' she thought, 'what does he mean by that?' Certainly, she knew what she wanted it to mean. Since her recent and unexpected orgasm, and her further glimpses of a little more of Paul's appendage; she could not get her mind off of the subject. Another first for her, as innocence was certainly a word that would normally be used when describing her.

Everything that Paul said, seemed to her to have a double meaning, a pinch of innuendo, a soupcon of lustful erotica. She needed a cold shower and she needed it now, because her body was letting her know, that it needed and was going to have, another release. "No, you are right," she croaked, there is no harm in showing you. Plus, I might make you another coffee, that will not take as long to do?" She smiled coyly."

"Sounds like a plan then. Lead on."

Isabel smiled and stood, taking a last, long, lingering look at Paul's bulge. Unable to stop herself from sighing, quietly. His washboard stomach, attracting her attention too, as a dribble of sweat ran down into his shorts. His whole body looked like he been sculpted in bronze; a Greek God. As she turned from him, she wondered if he were looking at her bum, as he followed her; but wrote that off almost immediately, knowing that the baggy jeans she wore, would prevent him from making anything out. That was after all the reason she wore them. As she most certainly was not comfortable with her body shape, and would where possible hide it. Though the way that Paul looked at her occasionally, she found, as now, that she really wanted to show him whatever he wanted.

Paul was indeed staring at her bum. The jeans however, were so oversized, that they appeared to have slipped down, and now revealed the waistband of her knickers. It was of no surprise to him, that they looked eminently practical and very plain. As she turned to look at him, Paul looked away, not wanting to be caught. Isabel smiled at him wanly and carried on into her kitchen.

"Here is the offending article that got me all wet. Sometimes it is fine, sometimes the water shoots out, and always does it drip, when turned off."

Paul turned it on and off, using both taps. "Yes, these taps have a valve, rather than the standard screw and washer. Once the valves are worn, there is no alternative but to have them replaced. With the screw type, you can replace the washer. I think I have some new valves at home, but the problem I can see, is the seal on the mixer spout is already leaking. So, unless you are really in love with this tap, I would say it is more cost effective to replace the whole thing. Where is your stop cock?"

"My what?" Isabel blushed for the umpteenth time that afternoon. She had been caught thinking about Paul's penis again, and wondering what it would look like hanging down, but piquing her interest more, was what it would look like, hard. She had to be careful though, because she was on the brink of a demonstration that would leave Paul in no doubt of how aroused she was. She couldn't understand where these thoughts or needs were coming from either? This was so unlike her.

"Stop cock. Where you turn the water off. It could be under the sink, or a downstairs cupboard, or it could be in the garage?"

Isabel looked blankly at him. "Not a clue Paul, and as Philip is a dead loss in this area, I would guess that he has no clue either. Is it essential?"

"Put it this way, if I cannot find it and turn it off, then when I try and remove the tap, there will be water gushing everywhere. I can't have you getting wet again all on my account."

"Can't you?" Isabel was getting confused and distracted. Very distracted. She didn't know what she was saying, didn't know what her body was doing to her, and couldn't seem to stop herself from staring at this man's broad, muscular back. Thankfully, he had put his tee-shirt on, but to be frank, it still didn't hide his muscles or his large, powerful arms. Her nipples were now painfully hard, and kept rubbing against her damp bra as she breathed, or more accurately panted out each breath. Her stomach had a constant flutter in it; her legs were shaky and her voice trembled as she spoke. Her eyes roamed about Paul's body, trying to capture every little thing about him, knowing that it was unlikely she would have this opportunity again. And she wasn't being particularly subtle about it either.

'God that chest, and those arms, they look huge. His back ripples with muscle, and those thighs, ooh those thighs'. Her thoughts had her squirming on the spot. She literally didn't know how to deal with the situation, made all the worse as he was kneeling on the floor before her, following the multitude of water pipes to their source. 'Was she showing any wetness? Could he perhaps smell the scent of her sex?'

"Well, if you are happy with me having a poke around, I'll see if I can find it myself?"

Isabel could not help the groan that escaped her lips, "Ummm, oh... Oh please Paul, help yourself, I really wouldn't.......don't mind."

Paul looked at the woman before him. He knew she had been staring at him, he knew that she was a little enamoured with him. He was an experienced man who knew the signs. The fact that she was quite a bit older than him did not bother him either. Maybe she was rather a 'plain Jane', but he was not averse to adding a little spice to her life, and maybe his. As he looked at her, it became apparent to him that she was becoming unravelled, poor thing. She had a far-away look in her eyes, and fidgeted constantly, like someone that needed to go to the loo. Her chest, a chest that he now had to admit, looked quite delightful; rose and fell erratically. She looked like she was hyperventilating and on the verge of fainting as she twirled her hair about her fingers pensively. "Are you OK Isabel, you look very flushed. Perhaps you got a little too hot eh, and are suffering a little from sun stroke?"

"I do feel a cold shower would do me some good. I am feeling out of sorts a little I must admit. Do you think I could have one whilst you look?"

Paul was taken aback. He was shocked that this shy and retiring, woman, in a long-term relationship, would ask him such a thing. He paused before responding. "I.....I..... As lovely as the prospect of that might be, and an absolute reward for my eyes, of that I have no doubt. I don't think I should. I'm sure Philip would object for one, and I think you would regret asking me afterwards for two." Isabel was looking at him blankly as she assimilated what he was saying. Paul thought he was making a mess of it. "Thank you, I am flattered, but I don't think it would be appropriate for me to look at you whilst you were showering."

Isabel's mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. Her whole body felt like it was on fire. "NO! No! I.... I didn't mean.....for you to watch me.....as I showered. Oh no....I wouldn't....in front of a man.....I mean I don't in front of Phil... so I wouldn't in front of you...I. No I meant that, can I shower whilst you are looking for the stop.......thingy?" She couldn't even bring herself to say the word 'cock'. It was not something she said or thought about very often. Dirty talk, was certainly not one of her fortes. And in her head, she knew that had she said 'cock', that would probably have been game over.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry, that was rather presumptuous of me, wasn't it? What a pompous arse, thinking anything of the sort, I mean, why would you....right? I am extremely embarrassed that my mind was in that place. I must confess to being completely shocked that you would ask, I should have known that it was extremely out of character, I mean.... You are way too reserved, and shy and if I may say, innocent to have..... well, perhaps we should put that one to bed, eh? I'm sure we will laugh about it later. Yes, yes, I can certainly look for your stop cock, whilst you are having a shower. I won't turn anything off though until you are done, because that will give you another shock! But please tell Philip what I am doing. I wouldn't want him thinking I was robbing him, or rooting around in your drawers."

Isabel gasped her response, "Of course, I'll do it right now." She quickly fled the room, aware that she could no longer hold onto what was growing inside her and wanting to burst forth. The thought of him 'rooting around in her drawers', was exactly where her mind was at.

She dashed up the stairs and into the room where Philip was. She was greeted with a loud snort, followed by smaller rhythmic ones. Philip was dead to the world. She couldn't be bothered, nor did she have time to spend, waking him, so turned and almost ran into her room and into the ensuite to turn on the shower.

Pulling her tee-shirt over her head, she immediately noticed that she had forgotten to do up the waistband button on her jeans, and tutted. "Isabel!" She scolded herself, but guessed that it made no difference in her over-all appeal. She felt that she was no erotic creature. As she dropped the jeans to her ankles, she looked at herself in the full-length mirror. "No wonder he doesn't want to look at you as you shower!" Isabel suddenly realised that she was less embarrassed by the situation, and more than a little hurt by it. It certainly did not improve her small amount of self-confidence. A body positive person, was not something Isabel was either.

Pulling off her shoes, socks and the jeans, she studied her reflection. "Why do you dress like your mother?" She enquired of herself, "No, that is not fair on your mother. It is more like, why do you dress like your grandmother?" Reaching behind her back, she released the clasp on her bra, dropping it to the floor. Her pale, almost white breasts stood out above her flat stomach. They were proud and showed the perky nature of young breasts. If there was one thing Isabel did like about her body, it was her breasts. The large areola were two or three times the size of many of the girls she had seen, when at school. The nipples, that badge of womanhood, stood very proud, puckering up the areola into folded pleats of sensitivity that could rival the coral folds hidden by her panties. The similar skin types both demanding her attention right this minute. Attention that to that point, they had only received from Philip. He being the only other person that had seen them too. Though to be fair, Izzy, rarely allowed even that. He had certainly not seen her fully naked.

She watched her arms raise slowly, driven by an unseen and hitherto, unknown force within her. The fingers and thumbs of both hands lightly gripped her nipples. "As for you......OOOOHHHH, OH, oh.....shit!" Her legs crumpled beneath her and she crashed to the floor. "Oh God, Ohhhh God....huh.....uuuuhhhhh." She knelt upon the floor, before the mirror panting and writhing in her ecstasy. As she looked up at herself in the large mirror. A string of saliva hung from her bottom lip and dribbled to the floor. Her nipples were larger than she had ever seen them. The whole top half of her body was a deep crimson, from her breasts to her cheeks, she seemed fascinated by her breasts bouncing up and down in line with the heaving of her chest, in its attempt to recover some oxygen. The light speckling of freckles about her upper chest and shoulders, suddenly more prominent. "Shit, Izzy, what is wrong with you today? You are like some young teenager in heat, rather than a 45-year-old woman! Paul is not doing you any good, any good at all. So, why is it so.......divine?"

Isabel had never played with herself before. She had never touched her nipples when they were in a sexually excited state, not that she had noticed them get in that state very often. She had certainly not realised that they were 'hot-wired' to her clitoris and vagina. In truth, Isabel had never felt this sexually stimulated. Of course, she knew why. Philip was a lousy lover. His libido was low, his standard of love-making, lower still. Whilst initially Isabel had thought, this is how it was meant to be. She knew that as time went on, she wanted a little more. Perhaps more than Philip could give? Today had certainly proved to her that her body was geared for more pleasure than it had been getting.

Standing, she looked down at her granny pants, and virtually tore them from her body. "These will have to go for starters, and this." She picked up her bra and threw it, and her wet knickers, into the bin. She would look at getting something a little more suitable, for a woman of her age. Removing her glasses and finger-brushing her unleashed hair, she entered the shower, feeling a sudden release, as if something fundamental had changed in her life. With that release, came a few surprising realisations and a clarity of thought. Something that she had not taken on board in the heat of the moment, when Paul had misconstrued what she had said about her showering. Her mind rewound back to what he had said as the rather cool water cleansed her body.

Paul had said that he did not feel it was right to watch her showering, because of Philip. He had not said, that he didn't want to watch her! Or that it did not appeal to him. He had said it would be a delight, he had said that he felt flattered..... "Ohhh, you idiot," she purred, coming to the boil again. Another realisation, hot on the wings of the first, was that she had had two orgasms in the last thirty minutes. She couldn't remember when she had had her last one, prior to that. In fact, achieving orgasm, and certainly being driven by the need to have one, was something that again was a rarity for her. Yet she had had two within a matter of minutes of each other, and she knew that they were both down to one man, Paul, and what she had seen of him.

She considered whether having orgasms, whilst thinking of another man, constituted being unfaithful to her partner? Because if it did, then she was definitely being unfaithful. Not that he would notice, or in fact care probably? She was also aware, with a certainty, that if the lewd thoughts, that continued to form in her brain, coalesced. She was likely to be unfaithful again.

Yet another realisation, was that she was shocked when she first saw Paul's...... "Cock." Isabel said the word out loud, it carried more gravitas, and mischievously set her pussy to tingling, again. Not because of what she had seen so much, though indeed she was not expecting it; but because of her reaction to seeing it. Rather than running a mile, which is what she thought she would, and probably should, have done. No, she wanted to see more of it, in fact, she admitted to herself, that she wanted to see all of it, and further, she wanted to see it erect and angry. She also knew, that she did indeed want him to see her naked. How she was going to accomplish this however, was, she found, quite intriguing. The problem that she could foresee, was that once she had completed that challenge, the likelihood was that she would want more and more was dangerous?

Her nipples had calmed, since her last orgasm, and were no-longer screaming for attention, or as sensitive. Her vagina on the other hand, was not so easily pleased. It throbbed and tingled, from her pubic bone downwards. She had never touched herself down there, in anything other than a functional way. She had certainly never touched herself, when fully aroused, or even partially aroused, or as a way to get aroused for that matter. As the fingers of her right hand slipped passed her dark-brown pubic hair and came into contact with her lips, she was shocked at how different they felt, and more shocked at the feeling they were transmitting back to her brain. The fleshy folds had grown large and were swollen with lust. They were ever so sensitive, and each time her fingers touched them, her knees sagged at the pleasure. She was also very, very wet.

Soaping her fingers, she ran them in and about the succulent folds, trying to make herself clean from her recent, shameless sexual practices, but it only resulted in her legs juddering furiously. Her nipples caught her eye, as they once again began to expand to full erection and as the water from the shower hit them, that too increased her arousal further and further. "Ohhhhh no. That man, that man has done this..." Her ablutions were quickly forgotten. Her prime need had now changed from cleaning, to finding more satisfaction and to complete her building excitement. Her enquiring fingers sought out her clitoris. She knew from her very limited experience, that this small area gave her most of the pleasure she received during sex with Philip.

She brought the fingers of her left hand down, to part the coral-like folds of her fleshy labia, exposing the raise hump of the clitoris. It was fully erect and sat proud of its hood. The pad of her finger, grazed the little nub of nerve endings and immediately made her cry out. "Shit! Oh God, oh shit, shit. FUCK!" She was shocked with herself for having used the expletive, but having done so, it just seemed to turn her on all the more. "Fuck!" She said again, "OhhhhhFUCK!" White lights, flashed about the corneas of her eyes, a buzzing sound had appeared in her ears and she slumped to her knees juddering, as the water continued to caress her now fully aroused frame. It mattered not where it landed, for each square millimetre of her body, had become an erogenous zone. With her legs still splayed, her fingers continued to rub upon her clitoris, maintaining her first, properly self-induced orgasm, for the first time in her 45 years. Isabel now had to admit to herself that she had actually masturbated, she felt that she should be ashamed of herself, but actually was nothing of the sort.