Jocelyn's Erotic Adventure

Well, Jocelyn, you don't look that bad for a forty-eight-year-old mother of four. Yes, not that bad. Mom always said that being Chinese helped in slowing down the aging process and as much as I hate to admit it, she was correct. While I have some wrinkles by the corners of my eyes and a little smile lines around my mouth, I've been told that I have a youthful face. Of course, below the neck...well...that's another story.

My breasts were never big, to begin with...apple-sized...but now they are a bit smaller, softer, and sag a little. But, hey, that's expected considering I breastfed my children for nearly four straight years. After all of that nursing, my nipples grew to be obscenely thick and long. Jeez, I now have to wear a bra...not that a respectable Chinese woman would be caught braless while out of the house...so that I won't have noticeable bumps in my tops. How terribly embarrassing.

At least I'm still the same weight that I was before I got married...yes, still got that slender figure of long ago. I guess that's due exercising and dieting now that Irwin is dead and the kids are grown and on their own. Too bad I can't do something about these damn stretch marks around my tummy and my hips...vivid reminders of having borne four children, one after another. But, hey, Ryan says that I look ten years younger than I really am.

Aah, Ryan...such a sweetheart and such a stark contrast to Irwin. God, how young and naïve I was when I first met Irwin. I had led such a sheltered life, having attended a Catholic all-girls prep school and then a small exclusive women's college. Other than through the media and movies, I was totally clueless when it came to men, having never dated or even associated with members of the opposite sex.

Then, my mother and his mother introduced Irwin and me with the clear intention of matchmaking. Irwin was what I thought a man should be - strong, virile, and aggressive. He was fifteen years older than me, experienced and worldly. Irwin was an established and successful lawyer with the city's prosecuting attorney's office and had a high convicting rate of violent criminals.

My mother viewed him as a good prospect with a solid career, and one who could provide for me and my future family. His mother viewed me as an attractive young woman, well-mannered, college-educated, and good daughter-in-law material, unlike the lowly barmaids that her son tended to take up with.

I thought Irwin was attracted to me because I could enhance his career and give him a wholesome family life. I took his suave and generous gestures as signs that he loved and wanted me. Letting him sweep me off of my feet, I felt that our romance and marriage was the stuff that fairytales were made of. However, as I would discover after I was married, Irwin saw me as a very innocent virgin who was naïve and could be dominated and controlled, unlike his more experienced barmaids and occasional jaded hooker.

They say that 'reality bites' and it did -- right between my legs -- when my so-called loving husband rammed his rock-hard penis into my unprepared vagina, shredding my fragile hymen and virginity on our wedding night. Irwin took me like the way a rutting bull mounted and took a prized young heifer...suddenly, violently, and without regard for me or my feelings. Throughout our honeymoon, he sexually brutalized until I was broken to his will, obediently doing whatever he wanted. Irwin taught an unsuspecting me my wifely duties that mainly entailed his erection being shoved in my mouth, my vagina, and to my anguish, my anus.

Without knowing any better, I naively accept our sexual life as the way things were between a man and his wife. I quickly and painfully learned not to say anything about our marital life for Irwin had a vile temper. While he never hit me where the bruises or marks could be seen, he taught me how my breasts, buttocks, and vulva could be cruelly and painfully slapped, pinched, or squeezed. Why did I endure such treatment at Irwin's hands? Sad to say, I foolishly thought I was keeping my vows that I took at my wedding -- "for better or for worse."

And boy, did things get worse. To this day I can't believe just how clueless I was when it came to birth control. As a good Catholic girl, I thought that I could safely practice the rhythm method. However, I did not consider my husband's sexual appetite for his new wife and my inability to deny his sexual demands. It never occurred to me that unprotected sex, when mixed with copious amounts of ejaculated sperm, would eventually result in me being inseminated. I was nevertheless astonished when I found myself pregnant.

I never realized that Irwin had viewed me from the start as his 'broodmare' who would give him the respectable children to carry on his line. I had Jonathan when I was twenty-three, and as soon as I was medically cleared for vaginal sex, Irwin labored intently between my legs until I was pregnant once again. Kimberly was born when almost a year after my first baby, Amy the next year, and I had Kevin when I was twenty-six. For over four years I had an infant or an older sibling attached to my tits and it is little wonder my boobs and especially my nipples are the way they look today.

In our marriage, Irwin was the breadwinner and I was his lowly stay-at-home housewife. He never got involved in the raising of our children but held me personally responsible for any mistake or incident involving them. Normally a parent would discipline a misbehaving child, but Irwin's way was to discipline the mother, me, physically or sexually, because he held me accountable for our children's actions. As such, our children suffered no consequences for their actions, and became empowered brats who like their father, treated me with disdain.

"Jocelyn," smirked Irwin as I sobbed in despair after having been viciously disciplined for Kimberly's poor math grade. "Haven't you figured it out by now? You have only three functions in life -- give me children -- raise them properly -- and satisfy me sexually. Yes, that right. I never really loved you when we married. To me, you were just a pretty plaything...a free and easy virgin...someone with whom I could have sexual fun. You were so goddamn docile, innocent, and so eager to please. I loved fucking you any way I wanted, and couldn't believe you never once questioned why or objected.

"Now, stop your complaining and crying, or I'm going to get really upset. Get over here, cunt, and quickly...unless you want another titty-slapping. Suck on my cock and make me nice and hard. If you're really good, I'll let you suck me off...but if you do a half-ass job, I'll give your ass a reaming that you won't forget. Hmmm, that good...yeah, what a good wife you are...yeah, a good little cock-sucking fuck-slut."

It was little wonder I didn't grieve when Irwin was violently murdered by the brother of a criminal he had prosecuted and sent to prison. Oh, I put on the proper mourning widow's face, wore black, and was subdued in my silent relief and joy. I should have been ashamed of my deception, but I wasn't. I was finally free of Irwin's domination and abuse. In addition, Irwin's posthumously retirement, life insurances, and investments gave me financial security and were viewed by me as restitution for my years of psychological, physical, and sexual abuse.

Irwin had set aside an education fund for each of the kids because he wanted them to attend a prestigious college. This was fine with me for they were already out of college and working in different states. After an appropriate period of pseudo-grief and the settlement of Irwin's estate, I sold our house and bought a nice condominium to preclude any of my children from returning home to a mother they never loved.

At forty-eight, I was a widow with no attachments, financially well-off, and residing in a nice new residence. I was ready to start a new life. The only question was how. For over two decades I had been a domestic servant to my children and a sexual slave to my husband. Those were hardly marketable skills. With no friends, family, or contacts upon whom I could rely, I was in a quandary as to what to do.

I thought that I might travel to see unknown places and meet new people. However, exactly where to go, how to do it, and doing it by myself reared as seemingly insurmountable roadblocks. As luck would have it, I happened upon a travel agency located in the distant corner of the shopping mall and on a whim, decided to pop in to explore the possibilities.

It was then that I laid eyes on a handsome but befuddled Ryan who was attempting multiple tasks all at once and failing miserably. "Hello! Come in and have a seat...will be with you in a moment," he blurted as he worked madly on his computer while the telephone rang annoyingly. "Of all time for my lousy clerk to quit..."

"Can I help?" came out of my mouth before I knew it. Having to juggle the demands of four kids and those of Irwin, the chaos the engulf this little travel agency seemed normal.

Looking up from his computer, Ryan 'saw' me for the first time and appreciatively smiled. "I could use a helping hand...I'm Ryan and you are?" After I gave him my name, he quickly said, "Jocelyn, if you could answer the telephone, it would be greatly appreciated. Just say that I'm out...listen to them...get their contact information...and promise that you'll get back to them as soon as possible."

It seemed that Ryan was running a special Japan tour for a small intimate group that he would be leading at an unbelievable price. As such, he was inundated with requests for reservations and millions of questions. His newly hired clerk turned out to be highly temperamental and being unable to handle the pressure of demands for reservations, just walked off the job, leaving Ryan high and dry. I, on the other hand, managed the inquiries and requests for reservations with ease, dealing with each customer on a friendly basis, soothing frazzled demands, providing what information I could, and leaving every caller with a sense of satisfaction.

While Ryan feverishly worked to make on-line reservations for the customers whom I had fielded, I couldn't help but notice that he was Japanese-American, in his early thirties, nice looking, a bit taller than me, and with a lean body. I like the way that he dealt with his customers when he called them back, cajoling them as he sought to accommodate their desires. I couldn't help but notice just how Ryan when compared to Irwin, was totally different, and this was interesting.

"Jocelyn, I want to thank you for helping me," Ryan said at the end of a very busy workday. "I don't know what I would have done without you. Huh, I didn't even ask what brought you here before pressing you in helping me."

"It wasn't a problem, Ryan, and strangely enjoyable. I popped into your agency looking for..." In the following moments, I gave this intriguing young man a very brief and sanitized version of my recent life. "...and with the kids working on the mainland, I have a lot of time on my hands. I thought traveling might be a good way to start my new life...you know, going to different places and experiencing new things."

Ryan looked at me in a way that for some strange reason, made my heart beat a bit faster. "Jocelyn, I can't believe you're a mother of four grown children. Jeez, you look so young...like in your late-thirties. But, what about your husband?"

When I shared Irwin's demise, Ryan sat back and commented, "Oh, yeah, I remember reading about that. Sorry for your loss." When I just shrugged my shoulders in a noncommittal manner, he paused as to what that meant before continuing, "I tell you what...if you help me out with this Japan tour by filling in for my clerk...shoots, I'll even hire you...I'll take you with me when I take the Japan tour...and for free. How does that sound?"

I didn't know what to say. Helping Ryan out gave me something to do and working in a travel agency would give me work experience that I might be able to use later. Besides getting paid (not that I needed it), I would get a free Japan trip. But the thing that made me say 'yes' to Ryan was that I would be working with a young man who for some strange reason had caught my eye.

Although I didn't have any work experience, I was good at multi-tasking, staying calm under pressure, and being able to deal with demanding customers. Under Ryan's patient and casual tutelage, I slowly but surely gained confidence as I picked up the details of the impending tour and the travel industry. I looked forward to coming to work, became excited about the tour, and enjoyed being in Ryan's company.

As we worked side by side, we talked about ourselves and our attraction grew. Ryan told me that he had inherited the travel agency and its debts from his uncle who had passed away unexpectedly. To get the business into the black, he put a lot of time and sweat learning the ropes and making the necessary contacts. However, the biggest game-changer was when Ryan decided not to be a general service travel agency.

Instead, Ryan specialized in offering unique, almost boutique tours that explored a particular region. Instead of bussing his clients at a frantic pace from one heavily-traveled tourist spot to another, he opted to take a small group leisurely to hidden gems off the beaten path. The few group events of the tour were merely to introduce the group members to each other and to local culture. After that, they were free to explore at their own pace and share with each other. This venue was highly popular among the adventuresome and independent travelers, and proved highly profitable for Ryan.

"Many of my clients are from word of mouth or return customers," Ryan explained. "I usually offer two tours a year and spend the rest of the time seeking out new and different adventures. Surprisingly, I make enough to cover necessary expenses and have enough to live comfortably. Still, this business takes up much of my time which explains my lack of a social life."

"I can't believe that a handsome young man such as yourself, Ryan, doesn't have a girlfriend or at least someone special."

"Nope," Ryan quickly responded. "Maybe that's because I've never met someone like you, Jocelyn. Your husband was one hell of a lucky guy to have been married to you." There was something about a change in my face or demeanor that made Ryan sit up and take notice. "Why do I feel that I touched a raw nerve in you? Hey, you don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to, but if you do, I'm here for you."

The perceptiveness and sincerity of Ryan's offer were like a sharp scalpel that quickly lanceda festering boil, and before I know the hidden rancid puss of my abusive husband, loveless marriage, and rotten children came spewing out. Tears flowed down my cheeks as I sob and related how Irwin had preyed upon my naiveite, coerced me into being his "free house-whore" as he so often called me, and had repeatedly sexually abused me for over two decades.

I share how I had been forced to have four children, one after the other, before my doctor convinced me to secretly have my tubes tied after my fourth child's birth. I lamented that my children were like their bastard father, and wasn't ashamed to say that I was glad that they were out of my life. Looking at Ryan, I muttered, "You must think I'm a terrible person for what I just shared with you. But it's the unvarnished truth. Now you know why I want to start a new life.

Hugging my shoulder, Ryan comforted me by saying, "And I will help you, Jocelyn, find that new life and it'll be filled with adventure and new experiences. I promise."

Soon afterward, Ryan unexpectedly closed up early to take me shopping which was something that Irwin never did. "It has been my very limited experience," he jokingly explained when asked why, "that shopping for a new wardrobe never fails to brighten a woman's day and a new wardrobe...the full shebang...clothing and lingerie...is a good way turn a new page in her life."

I was thrilled and found Ryan had impeccable taste in women's apparel. "Do you know that you look great in that black dress and high heels. And, no, its hem is not too short...you've got great legs so why not show them off? Besides making you look elegant...which of course you are...it also makes you youthful-looking while enhancing your natural beauty." I blushed at Ryan's comments, but at the same time, was pleased that he found me appealing despite being fifteen years his senior.

As the trip date was rapidly approaching, Ryan and I put in long hours attending to and double-checking the details while trying as much as possible to plan for the unexpected. When he told me that he valued me, I was delighted. Unlike Irwin, Ryan's comforting warm eyes spoke volumes of this appreciation for me as a person and not a potential sexual conquest. I loved how Ryan's charm came from his open friendliness and quirky sense of humor, a willingness to listen without judgment, and a sense that he could be relied on no matter what.

We often had a light dinner delivered so that we could work while we ate. When we called it a day, we shared some sake which Ryan said that I needed to experience since one point of tour interest was a sake brewing and cuisine. With each day, dinner, and sake sip, we grew closer and closer. Somehow our age difference faded as did our personal space. As we teetered on the edge of greater involvement, I found myself wishing that I had met someone like Ryan instead of Irwin.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

For his fall tour, Ryan had chosen the Japanese city of Semboku in the rural and mountainous prefect of Akita that was known for its sake and hot springs. We landed at Akita regional airport on a Monday and then were bussed to one of Semboku's economy hotels that offered basic accommodations at a low rate and with a free cancellation to fit changes in plans. The hotel would serve as our base of operations from which we, collectively and individually, would explore the surrounding area.

After our tour group settled in and refreshed themselves, Ryan announced over a group dinner at a nearby restaurant, the basic tour itinerary to our group of twenty (four couples, ten singles, Ryan, and I). He had rented two ten-passenger vans for the next two days which he and another traveler would drive. The next day, we would travel to Nyuto village to enjoy its six onsens (hot springs baths) ryokan (inns/lodges)" which provided communal or private bathing. On Wednesday, we would visit the sake breweries in Daisen City that was an hour's drive away, and then return to Semboku to visit its brewery and explore the city. After that, everyone was left to explore as desired for the next two days.

In the afternoon of the second day, our group met to discuss future outings for the remaining days. Some group members were in favor of 'chilling' (as one used a play on words regarding the cool mountain air and relaxing) in the Nyuto village's quaint shops, eateries, hot springs, and natural setting. The others opted for rental cars to explore the sights and countryside. It was agreed that we would meet in our hotel's lobby early Saturday morning to go to the airport and fly out.

When asked if Ryan and I wanted to join the various group outings, Ryan respectfully declined, saying that we didn't want to be group chaperons and hamper their joy of discovery. Before I could ask about his comment, Ryan quickly whispered as the group was dispersing, "Do you remember me promising you adventure and new experiences? Then pack an overnight bag and let's get going, Jocelyn. We have some driving to make our dinner reservations. Hurry!"

What Ryan didn't tell me was that he had reserved a rustic traditional onsen ryokan that was secluded in the mountains. I was in utter awe when I saw our destination in the twilight, surrounded by a forest of the red autumn maple leaves and shrouded in the mist rose as the cool mountain air met the heated water of the onsen. Our ryokan was over three centuries old and very exclusive in that it had only sixteen guestrooms located in individual cabins or small lodges. The fact that we had a small two-room cabin next to a gently flowing brook was impressive and spoke of Ryan's influence.