tagErotic CouplingsJulie's Awakening: Good Girl No Longe?

Julie's Awakening: Good Girl No Longe?


It was another late night in a job that was becoming increasingly meaningless. Julie found herself caring less and less about if the clients were happy, if the products got to the store on-time. But having been a good girl all her life, she knew she would never let them down. She would work late, would do whatever it took. But still she wondered, "When do I get to be happy?"

The job, the stress, and her unhappiness were sabotaging her love life. Too many late nights and dinners apart, she often found her husband asleep in front of the TV when she finally got home. Even if she weren't exhausted, even if she knew she could still feel that spark, sex with her husband had, somewhere along the line, become perfunctory. Part of it was her own fault, her inability to express her secret wishes and naughty desires. She couldn't imagine the look in his eyes if she told him what she really wanted, to be treated like a dirty whore. The few times she suggested naughty things, he was not only unresponsive but mildly shocked and somewhat annoyed.

It was another drawback from her good girl personality, her eagerness to please and inability to make her own needs a priority. Although she knew Jim loved her very much, she sometimes felt like she somehow had him fooled. He fell in love with the perfect wife, the professional, who liked to cook him nice dinners and entertain their friends. There was no room in his perception of her for the nasty slut she craved to be. She knew he joked with his buddies about their promiscuous single friends. The guys even contemplated a pool: Who would be hottest in bed? But she knew that Jim felt those qualities were not appropriate for the woman that was his wife. She worried that if he knew her inner burning secret, he would be disgusted with her.

Because she wanted to be a whore. She craved it more than anything. She wanted to be used, to give up control completely and become a vessel of pleasure. And she wanted to do so for many men. She shocked even herself with the dark places her fantasies took her mind while Jim was dutifully making love to her. Thoughts of an assembly line of men, each taking from her what they wanted as they banged her, pounding one after the other into her juicy cunt. She could orgasm from Jim's gentle ministrations only as the wicked and twisted images echoed in her brain.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" she often wondered. "Where did this come from?" Yet sometimes, she argued with herself, asking what was so wrong with it? And even more scarily for Julie: Did she really love a man if she couldn't share her secret self with him? She felt she did love him but accepted that this was something she couldn't share. She often fantasized about having an affair, but she wasn't sure she had it in her.

Leaving the office around 9 pm, she was especially down tonight. She needed something, some bit of excitement, anything to break this monotonous routine. She had nothing to look forward to at home except Jim snoring on the couch, and maybe some popcorn for dinner, if she could even muster up the energy to nuke it.

Thinking of popcorn gave her an idea. She had always loved the movies, ever since her first job as a cashier when the local multiplex was first built. Something about the smells and the darkness and the memory of happy teenage groping, watching a film brought that all back to her. She had not gone to a movie alone in many years. "Why not?" she thought. There was a train every ½ hour home, Jim would never miss her, and she might actually be distracted from the stress for an hour or two. She could have her popcorn too.

She remembered seeing a small theater somewhere close to her office, just a few blocks away. It was a bit run down but she wasn't choosy. She figured it was a second-run house, but it had been so long since she'd seen a movie, she knew it wouldn't make a difference. After wandering around awhile she saw the rather dim marquee, bulbs out everywhere. There was only one film showing; the poster said "Babylon." She stepped to the ticket window and asked what kind of movie it was. The greasy cashier blinked, then leered at her. "It's an art film, honey, you'll love it, he said. She asked for one ticket and pushed her money through the window. He laughed and passed her a ticket and her change.

The lobby was empty and smelled musty. Not quite the sparkling new multiplex she had so many good memories in. But she kind of liked the shabby elegance; you could tell it must have originally been a beautiful cinema, many years earlier. Happily buying her small popcorn and soda, she was oblivious to the puzzled glances and sneering smiles of the workers as they wondered what she was doing there.

She pulled on the door, gold paint flaking as she swung it open and stepped through. The theater itself was especially dark, with most of the side lighting burned out or dim. She wasn't surprised to find only a few people in the theater, it was after all a Wednesday night. She was slightly amused to see they were all single theater-goers, like herself. She picked a seat in the back rows, far from anyone else. In fact all the patrons were spread out around the place. If the lighting had been even marginally better, she might have noticed that she was the only woman in the theater.

The movie started and she could tell by the quality that it was an older film. "I guess it is more art-house than second run," she mused. The screen showed a woman on a ship, in the sort of traveling suit one might find in the forties or fifties. The woman seemed to be the lone passenger, with the only other characters being the crewmen who worked the boat. She walked the deck with a superior attitude, distancing herself from the men who worked to provide her passage. Almost immediately Julie noticed the glances the men gave the woman, like they were starving and she was their next meal.

The mood changed as the men nodded to each other and approached her, surrounding her. They put their hands on her quickly, two of them grabbing her arms and shoulders, restraining her while three others stood before her. The woman struggled, her eyes more defiant than afraid. Julie sat watching, shocked, as the men proceeded to rip off her clothes and fondle her roughly. As they pulled her, resisting, into the galley and laid her on the rough wood of the dining table, spreading her open for them like a feast. Julie's cheeks burned crimson as she realized too late what kind of a movie house she was in. Heart pounding in embarrassment, she started to gather her coat and purse to leave. But she quickly caught herself and stopped. No one here knew her. Maybe she could sit and watch a bit for a little excitement.

Already she noted the woman on the screen was moaning, writhing as many hands rubbed all over her body. No longer protesting, she was arching herself up against their caresses. When first one and then another man took the woman's breasts in their mouths, Julie was mesmerized. She forgot all about leaving. Her own nipples tightened painfully as she watched the men suck the woman's nipples, licking and biting them. When the first man put his face between the woman's legs, Julie gasped. The camera angle was close, very close, yet artistically done. The man was lapping and licking her cunt like a dog, his tongue long and relentless. Julie's own pussy dampened immediately as she watched him tongue the pink, creamy cunt. She was wholly absorbed in the images, the theater so very dark that she felt like she was alone.

Indeed Julie forgot where she was, so immensely turned on as she was by the images. Mindlessly she reached her own hand up to her blouse, unbuttoning the top few buttons. She reached two fingers into her bra and began to rub her tight nipples. She pulled down the cup of her bra to let her full breast spill out, licked her fingers, and continued rubbing, harder now, and pinching. The cool air of the theater tightened her moist nipple even more.

Suddenly two men were in front of Julie, reaching towards her breasts. She started, and pulled her shirt closed tightly, telling the men to get away from her. Puzzled, they moved away. Shocked and shamed, Julie grabbed her coat and purse from the seat next to her. She felt a hand on her shoulder and a whisper against her ear. "There are rules in here. Your open blouse and exposed flesh is an invitation," said a deep voice. Blushing furiously as she put on her coat, she stammered, "I didn't, I didn't mean, I don't, I don't know what I'm doing here, I'm leaving."

"I know," he said. She felt his hot breath in her ear as he whispered fiercely, "but I will see you when you come back. You will be back. And I shall find you here, my dirty slut." He let go of her shoulder.

She didn't even turn around to see who spoke to her, she couldn't even think with the woman's moans on screen turning to screams of pleasure. The sounds of wet flesh pounding together and the feeling of embarrassment made her run out of the theater.

The air felt freezing against her burning cheeks. She hailed a taxi to Grand Central to get away from the theater as fast as she could. As soon as she closed the taxi door she started to breathe easier. She reasoned with herself that she had just made a silly mistake, no harm done, she could laugh at herself. Her heart slowed down as the adrenaline started to ebb.

On the train home, further distanced from the experience, she allowed herself to think about it some more. To admit to herself how much she enjoyed watching the woman being taken roughly and pleasured by the brutish men. Her pussy moistened again as she thought about the two strangers who came to her, ready to do what exactly? What would have happened if she had let them touch her? This was a whole world she knew nothing about. She thought about the deep voice behind her and shivered. It was frightening, how sure he was, how possessive, and how he knew. How did he know her secret desire? She was even more intrigued than she was frightened.

"Oh well Jules," she told herself, "you got your little bit of adventure. Now put it out of your mind and go back to your nice normal world." She wondered if she could actually get Jim to take care of her now-aching pussy when she got home.

He was on the couch, watching some mindless talk show. She went straight over to him and leaned down, kissing his neck. "Hi baby," she purred. He mumbled "hey" and leaned around her so he could keep watching the TV.

"Come on lover, it's not that late tonight, let's go to bed together." She decided to take a little chance, leaning over again, she looked straight into his eyes "Baby, I need you to fuck me hard."

"I don't know what the hell's gotten into you Julie," Jim huffed, "but I'm not some command performance boy toy for you, and I'm not into it. Can't you see I'm busy here?"

Dejected, Julie nodded her head and turned away, tears starting to burn her eyes. "Okay. Goodnight Jim." She padded softly to the bedroom to get ready for bed, alone. Again. She stripped off her clothes and looked at herself objectively in the full length mirror. Feeling rejected by Jim, she wondered if he wasn't attracted to her anymore. She was the same Julie, still the same fuller figured woman with rounded hips, soft tummy, and full, firm breasts.

He used to love her soft curves, rubbing his face all over her, kissing her tummy, thighs, and between. She sighed. She knew she still looked good. Her hair was sexy, curly, just a bit wild. She stared into her own intense hazel eyes, taking stock of herself, and liking what she saw. She sighed again and pulled on a soft cotton tank top and shorts. She washed her face, brushed her teeth, and got into bed.

The next couple of days, work kept her busy as usual, almost too busy to remember her bizarre experience on Wednesday night. Still, it crept into her thoughts as she waited on hold, or daydreamed on the train. Not only the thrill of her little adventure, but the bitterness of Jim's rejection. Again, she realized she had to take some of the blame. She hadn't exactly been around much lately. It was no wonder their intimacy was suffering. On Friday, she made up her mind to surprise him that night.

She actually took half an hour for lunch, ran out and bought a simple, beautiful bustier. It was cream colored satin with black lace overlay, and it zipped up the front. It pushed her already full breasts up even more, deliciously spilling over the top. She buttoned her blouse up demurely over it and then slid on the matching thong. She smiled as she thought of surprising Jim later, with the sexy lingerie hidden under her professional suit.

She told her boss she had a dentist appointment she had forgotten about, so that she could leave early and get home right when Jim did. She planned the whole evening, how she would undress before him in the living room, and offer him a nice sensual massage. She realized how badly she wanted to kneel between his legs and suck him. It had been forever since she'd done that. She used to love it, crave it. She wondered when did they stop? She vowed to bring a little more excitement and romance back to their lives. This would be just the beginning. She was a bundle of anticipation as she finished her last few hours at work.

She nearly ran home the final few blocks from the train station, excited to be with him. His car was in the driveway and she smiled. He would be so surprised to see her home this early. Would he be pleased? She hoped so, she really wanted to try to make their times together special again. She took a deep breath before opening the front door. She shook out her hair and smoothed her suit. Julie put on some red lipstick and smiled to herself. She decided to open the door softly and really make a surprise entrance.

At first, she couldn't process the sight before her as she quietly entered their living room. Her smile fell from her lips as her mouth opened in shock. Jim was naked, pounding away at a nude woman who was bent over the ottoman. "Yeah you fucking whore," he was yelling, "Take all this fucking cock you cunt." Julie, frozen in place, let out a little yelp of shock.

Both of the naked people looked up at her sharply. "Fucking shit!" shouted Jim. The woman, whom Julie now recognized as their friend Liz, was silent but had a satisfied and triumphant smirk on her lips.

Stunned, Julie turned and ran out. She was still clutching her purse so she yanked out her car keys and ran for her car. She heard Jim yelling after her, "Goddammit Julie, wait a minute!" but she just got in her BMW and drove off.

She drove around aimlessly for about an hour. Her cell phone buzzed over and over. She knew Jim was trying to reach her, but she couldn't talk to him. She stopped at a diner for some coffee, took out her phone, and dialed her voice mail. There were six messages from Jim. First, telling her to come home and talk to him. But as he called back again and again, he got more frustrated. He began yelling at her that it had nothing to do with her, she was his wife but he had other needs, she had to understand that.

The last one told her she better get her fucking ass home now. Shocked, hurt, Julie felt like a fool. She should have realized. Isn't that what everyone always said? "I guess he found out which of our single friends is good in bed," she thought. She didn't know what hurt more, the fact that he had cheated on her, or that he was giving that bitch the kind of sex she herself craved and could never receive from him.

As she sat there sipping coffee, her hurt turned to anger. Fuck him for making her feel this way! She was sexy, smart, loving, funny. She wouldn't let him make her feel bad about herself. What guy wouldn't love to have a woman who could be both a lady and a whore? "He's a fool," she thought. "A goddamn fucking fool. He doesn't deserve me and he doesn't know me."

"Yeah right," she told herself. "He knows exactly what you'll do. Predictable little Julie. You'll stay mad for a few hours then go home and he'll feed you some bullshit and you'll accept it because you're the good girl, that's what's expected."

She sat there a little disgusted with herself and what her life had become. When did she become this weak? Where was the laughing confident person she used to be? She could either let herself be miserable or she could try to change things. She was always a logical girl and she thought objectively now. Ok, so her husband was fucking another woman. That was definitely bad. And he was fucking her good and hard. Also bad because it wasn't Julie he was doing that to. She was unsatisfied also, another bad thing.

Well what was she going to do about it? Meekly run back home and hope he could explain away his hurtful actions? "I don't fucking think so," she told herself. Why not see this as an opportunity? Yes, she almost felt a sense of relief. Her perfect fucking life was shattering, and maybe it was about time she took some control. She quickly shot him a text message saying she wasn't coming home tonight and to stop calling her.

Before she even knew what she was doing, she had left a couple of dollars on the table for her coffee and ran out of the diner. She got into her car and headed to the highway. She loved this BMW. She had almost forgotten how much she loved to drive, loved the power and responsiveness of this machine. Taking the train every day, she almost never had this pleasure, the simple joy of driving a beautiful machine.

She was already at the toll booth before she admitted to herself exactly where she was going. That she was driving back to the city, and specifically to a run down little theater. She wasn't sure what she would do when she got there, would she invite others to touch her or just watch the end of the movie? What was it that fierce whisperer had said? That her open clothes were an invitation. "Well," she smirked, "at least tonight I'm dressed for the part, under this suit."

She parked her car at a garage and walked the few blocks to the theater. And promptly turned around when she got there, in a near panic, thinking she couldn't go through with it. Then she talked herself back into it, held her head high, and walked back to the window.

"One ticket please." She didn't even let the greasy ticket seller's knowing laugh bother her.

No popcorn tonight, she just bought a bottle of water and walked into the theater with more confidence than she really felt. Inside she was a bundle of nerves, but excited too. She looked around. Was one of these men the dark whisperer? She wished she had seen his face.

She went back to the same row she had sat in two nights ago. The darkness was comforting. The few minutes before the show started gave her some time to compose herself and calm her breathing. She realized just how excited she was. She felt happy, and expectant, a little scared but more than a little thrilled. And she was wet. The tight bustier under her blouse felt heavenly, putting pressure on her tits as it pushed them up. Her little thong was drenched and she worried her juices might leak through her gray skirt, showing everyone just how horny she was.

The movie started and she realized she was looking forward to seeing the end of the story, what would happen to the woman trapped on the boat with the horny crewmen. She watched, mesmerized, as the woman was fucked over and over, writhing and moaning. The character was transformed from the highbrow superior bitch she seemed at first, to a raging horny fuck slut.

Julie found it hard to keep her hands to herself as she watched the woman satisfy man after man, moaning in pleasure. She wanted to reach down and rub herself but she couldn't quite do it, couldn't take that last step, to open herself up to the nameless strangers in the theater. She didn't feel comfortable not knowing all the rules. So she sat there, her pussy throbbing and nipples painfully tight, unconsciously squirming in her seat to try to find some relief.

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