tagMatureSexual Awakening

Sexual Awakening


I drove to, Arizona on Saturday the 26th of October 1996. On the way I spun a sexual fantasy. During my five-day stay in Scottsdale I wrote a longhand draft.

The story is about a couple who have been married for several years. They have no children. The husband is sterile—the result of a childhood disease.

Her mother was quite prudish and she had adopted much of her mother's attitudes. She dressed in the manner of her mother, never showing cleavage or wearing dresses above the knee. She does enjoy sex with her husband. She would like to have sex more often but her mother taught her that if she allowed sex too often her husband would become bored and the marriage would be ruined.

Then ... (in her words.)

A topless club opened not far from one of the restaurants that we frequented. At first I was upset, because my mother had taught me that I should be. Then my husband told me that one of his coworkers and his wife had gone and enjoyed the show. He wanted me to go but I refused. Several days later he told me that a group from work was planning to see the show. At first I was unhappy that he was planning to go with them, then after I found out that several women were going I decided that it would be best if I accompanied him.

I had hardly ever seen another woman's bare breasts. I went to a private school that had individual showers. A couple of the girls found opportunities to undress in front of others, but most of us were careful to keep our bodies covered when anyone was around.

Even though I enjoyed married sex I did not remove my nightclothes until my husband made his approach and then when we were finished I quickly cleaned up and put them back on.

In the days before the excursion I began wondering what it would be like to see these women showing off their breasts. I was quite happy with my breasts; they were a bit too large for B-cup bras and not large enough for a C-cup. I wore a C because my breasts could disappear behind the bra. My breasts were firm enough that they passed the pencil-under-the-breast test (but I never went without a bra except in the shower and to bed.)

The night we went to the club was quite an experience for me. My husband and I went to dinner alone; we were to meet the others at the club later. I was unhappy about his wanting to see other women's breasts. It was about ten days since we had last had sex. I was punishing him and myself also.

The restaurant was less busy than usual. As a result we arrived at the topless club nearly an hour earlier than we had expected. I tried but could not find a reason to delay so we were ahead of the group from work. We were seated at a table very near the stage where the girls performed. The lights were quite low and I could not see clearly as we were led to our table.

After we were seated I saw that the girl on the stage had rather full breasts, not large, but tight. Her skin seemed to be fighting to contain them. Her areolas were a dark brown-red; mine are a pinkish red, no brown. Her nipples were very full and tight, not drawn up and hard like mine get when I splash cold water on them.

I could not pull my eyes away. When she danced her breasts bobbed up and down a bit, the way mine do when I walk fast while wearing high heels. I never liked the feeling.

The song ended and the first girl left the stage and was replaced by another. This girl wore a filmy outfit that in the stage lights barely concealed her breasts and did not conceal the skimpy underpants that she was wearing. As she danced she removed the flimsy clothes. Her breasts were quite large with tiny areolas that were so light that they were hardly noticeable. Her nipples were nearly nonexistent, I realized that my breasts were much nicer. I was shocked at how nearly naked she was, just a tiny pair of underpants.

Then a waitress came up to take our drink order. I was startled to see that it was the girl who had just danced. She too had put on a bit of clothing—but it did little to conceal her body. By now my eyes had adjusted to the dim light and I studied her breasts. She noticed and moved closer and pulled her shoulders back—I felt a rush, at first I thought that I was embarrassed at being caught looking, later I realized that it was a sexual rush caused by her offering me a closer look at her breasts. As she turned away I realized that her buttocks were bare. It took another look before I realized that she was wearing thong underpants. Again I felt the hot rush; I found her bare buttocks to be almost more erotic than her bare breasts.

The next time she danced she came to the end of the stage nearest our table and made a point of giving us a good view of her breasts and her buttocks. By the time that she finished I found that I was more aroused sexually than I had ever been before. I insisted that my husband take me home. We did not talk much in the car. Later I learned that he had thought that I was upset. Those days I wore pajamas to bed, but that night I put on a nightgown, one that I had not worn for many years.

After the lights were out my husband began fondling my breasts through the thin material—he commented on how full my nipples were—they had not relaxed since OUR girl had served our drinks. I replayed the scene in my mind: I had been watching her breasts as she walked up to us. She brushed her breast against my arm as she reached to set the drinks on our table and I saw her nipples stiffen. After making change she turned so that her nipple again rubbed across my bare arm, her eyes looked up into mine to let me know that it had not been an accident. I flushed and felt vagina get wet.

Finally my husband's hand moved down to the hem of my nightgown and urged it up. I had come close to losing control and had been on the verge of asking him to move on from my breasts. Tonight I was thoroughly primed; I just wanted his rigid penis pumping in me. He let out an exclamation when he felt my wetness.

In a single plunge he was in me to the hilt. I raised my hips and pressed my pubic bone against his. My clitoris was caught between. I shivered and the motion caused me to have a small orgasm. My husband sensed my arousal and he began pumping into me with more enthusiasm than usual. He moved quite slowly, pausing every few strokes to put pressure on my clitoris. I responded with a stronger orgasm each time. His slowness caused me to think that he was playing back his memories of the breasts that he had seen. This caused me to get more turned on. Eventually I was having one long orgasm that varied in intensity with his movements. When he finally exploded into me I could feel his cum splashing against my cervix deep inside my vagina.

I fell into a deep sleep, not even getting up to wash his semen out of my vagina. When I woke on Sunday morning I became aware of my husband's penis trying to finds its way into my vagina. I was lying on my back and he was on his side facing me. My leg was raised against his body. The covers were thrown back and I was nude! I blushed deeply. His hand began caressing my breasts; my nipples were so hard they ached. I didn't know whether they had become erect as I was awakening or if they had stayed hard all night.

I shuddered at his touch and the movement allowed his penis to find the way. I groaned as he slid in. I pressed against him; he was surprised at my enthusiasm, with a smile he continued on.

He commented at how pretty my bare breasts were and how excited my very hard nipples made him. One hand slipped down to my mound and his fingers found my clitoris; he had rarely touched it before. This time I began having an orgasm immediately. After I quieted a bit, the orgasm had not quit, it was just at a steady plateau, and he moved on top of me and pounded until the bed rattled. When he began cuming I could feel each of the many spurts.

We had sex again that evening.

We visited the club every once in a while. Our sex life increased tremendously. He could kiss me and rub my nipples and I would be out of my clothes and ready for sex in minutes.

My pajamas remained in the drawer for those increasingly rare times when relatives visited. I replaced them with attractive nightgowns. I still would not go around the house nude as my husband wished but I would often consent to leaving the lights on while we had sex and he would examine my body and get terribly turned on.

Eventually my husband heard of a club where the dancers stripped completely nude. He asked if I would go with him. I thought why not, the topless dancers were so close to nude that I did not see how it would be much different. After all, the only thing covered was their pubic hair.

We went to the new club on a Friday. We both were anticipating the evening so strongly that we did not want to wait until Saturday which was when we had always visited the topless club.

We arrived during a lull between the dancers. The girl who took our drink orders was wearing a skimpy bikini; she was covered more than the girls at the topless club were. I began to feel disappointed. I couldn't even get a glimpse of her nipples.

Then the music started, a girl in a very short, tight mini-dress walked toward the stage. She took a large step up to the stage; I caught a glimpse of her bare buttock. She bent to pick something up from the floor. Her buttocks were exposed, as was her thong-covered pussy.

I was tremendously turned on and her breasts were not even bare! Here she was wearing something that would barely have caught my attention if she was wearing it on the street, but because she was so blatantly letting us look up her skirt it had become very erotic. She put her foot up on the railing that surrounded the stage and let us look at her panty covered pussy. The panties barely bulged. Her pussy seemed so small!

She put her foot down and quickly slipped her panties off. She folded them and with her back to us carefully laid them on the floor. Once again we were treated to a view of her bare buttocks. This time her whole bottom was naked. No strip of cloth protected her. My eyes were drawn to the pinkness of her pussy.

In a flash she was standing straight again and smoothing her skirt, she glared as though she had caught us peeping. I flushed in embarrassment before I realized that this was an act. She turned her back again and pulled off her dress. As she turned to face us I was shocked to see that her pussy was nearly hairless. I thought that she was very immature. I hardly noticed her bare breasts.

At the topless club the girl's breasts were the focus of attention. I would study them in detail, their shape and coloring and get aroused when I saw raised areolas or when nipples began to fill and harden. Here that tiny, bare pussy took my breath away. In another moment she was laying on the stage with her wide spread legs propped on the railing.

Her pussy gaped open—I could see some way up the tube of her vagina. My eyes tried to find her clitoris. As though she was reading my mind her hand moved down across her pussy to her buttocks. She pulled her fingers up, letting them dip into the slit of her pussy. As they pulled farther up they straddled her clitoris and pulled the hood back. I saw that it was standing at attention.

Slowly she rocked her pelvis first down making her clitoris the center of attention. Then she rocked back so that I could look into her vagina. She raised her pelvis higher and suddenly I realized that I was looking at her anus. It winked at me and I knew that she was showing it to me.

The next dancer performed in similar fashion. She was a bit older and while looking at her bare pussy I realized that she had shaved it. After another dancer had performed I whispered to my husband that I was so wet that I was afraid there would be a spot on my skirt when I stood up.

We hurried to the car; on the way home he reached under my skirt and verified that my juices were running and overwhelming my panties. At home he helped me out of my skirt and hose and was on me with my blouse and bra still on.

He ejaculated almost instantly. We cuddled and talked and I finished removing my clothes. He was fascinated with the way that the bare pussies caused us to not even notice the girls breasts. When I told him how exciting it was to watch the girls touch their bodies and expose their clitorises he began to play with mine. I had an instant orgasm that he was able to keep going for a long time.

Our experiences had taught him to give me many orgasms. He could keep me at an orgasmic level for long times, gently increasing the stimulation would cause me to peak and then slow gentle stimulation would have me hanging on the edge. I felt his penis growing hard and I lifted a leg so that it could slide into my vagina. This time his fingers continued to excite me as he pumped for a long time before he ejaculated again. I kept seeing a winking anus as he pumped. I thought that I could make mine wink too as his penis moved in and out, but I couldn't tell him.

During the night I awoke, my hand was on my husband's limp penis. I stroked it a little and it began getting hard. When he woke I was straddling his hips and bouncing up and down. I had never been on top before. The next morning when we woke he was hard again. He wanted me to mount him but I was too embarrassed to do it in the light.

He wanted to go back again the next weekend, but remembering my mother's advice I insisted that we go only on special occasions. I did agree to go to the topless club however. Even that was more exciting than before. I looked closely at the girl's crotches and realized that several shaved their pussies. I tried hard to see a bit of anus but the thin straps of their thongs kept them from view.

Now even on weekends when we did not go to a club we had sex more than once, more likely once a day or even twice. Even a couple of times during the week one or the other of would announce that we were ready, often as soon as we got home from work. Yes, I would occasionally initiate sex! Sometimes an erotic dream would cause us to couple wildly in the middle of the night.

My clitoris was being played with regularly and for long periods. On those rare occurrences when my husband was out of town I would have an orgy with my fingers. I would play with myself as soon as I got home; again after I was in bed; and often in the morning I would awake to find my fingers in a very wet pussy. Even sometimes at work a swollen breast, a hard clitoris, or a winking anus would flash through my mind. Soon I would be headed to the restroom to bring myself to an orgasm—those evenings I would be ready for sex as soon as my husband and I got home.

My husband wanted me to go naked around the house but I could not, except when he was gone. Then I would take off my clothes and study my nude body in the mirror. I even used a hand mirror to watch the changes in my vagina while I masturbated. I would masturbate in many parts of the house and found that my arousal was different in the living room, in the kitchen, and in the bedroom. He also wanted to shave my pussy but I could not; what if I had to go to the doctor was my excuse. I had already changed the type of lingerie that I wore, however. I now had a variety of skimpy panties, French-cut bikinis and string bikinis along with bras that fit differently. Some of the new bras were pushup styles that made my breasts bulge, and demi-bras that did not completely cover the colored circles of my breasts. All had smaller cups then in the past to make my breasts tight and spill out of the cups. I wore these on the night that we went out together and occasionally during the week when I was going to be alone that night. On those occasions I would slip my hose off as soon as I got in the door and then study my legs and pussy as I worked my skirt up while standing or sitting in front of a mirror. With my skirt and blouse off I would have my first orgasm of the evening while studying myself in a mirror.

Now that I was more interested in the lingerie that I wore I began to search out small specialty stores that had more sensuous items than could be found in department stores. I found a small lingerie store that had items that I found especially interesting and I began frequenting it. The owner was a lady somewhat older than I was. She took an interest in the way I liked my lingerie and she usually had something set aside for me when I came in. She would come into the dressing room and help me into the new bras. Instructing me in the proper way to put them on so that I would get my breasts as high and full as possible. As she got to know me she would inspect my breasts carefully as I put on each new bra and proclaim whether or not it was right for me. If not she would take it from me and leave me standing their with my breasts uncovered while she ran out to find me another. More and more often her fingers would brush the sides of my breasts lightly as she worked at fitting me. She would press on the sides or bottoms of my bra-covered breasts while checking the fit. She kept trying to get me to try on thong panties but I could not handle that. One day she brought me a bra that had cups so low that my nipples were exposed, I tried to settle my breasts deeper into the nearly none-existent cups. She clucked and picked up my breasts and settled them on top of the bra. I was electrified, then mortified when my nipples responded by filling until they were bursting. After that she became very brazen about handling my breasts. I always became embarrassed but that did not deter my nipples from swelling. I did not buy that bra the first time, but she showed it to me over and over and finally I was seduced.

Those were always nights that my husband and I had sex. In fact if I let him know that I would be home a bit late because of my shopping I would find him nearly hard when I got home. The night that I wore my new half-bra home I took off my jacket before I walked in from the garage. He noticed almost immediately but looked puzzled. He ran his hand over my back and felt the bra straps. With a big smile I took off my blouse, for the first time I walked around the house with my nipples bare. He wanted me in bed, but I decided to break with tradition completely; I took off my hose and skirt and made dinner wearing only my new bra and my skimpiest string bikini panties. We had wonderful sex that night, again during the night and then the next morning.

My clothes had been getting subtly more sexy also. More and more customers asked for me by name and even my boss took notice of the higher sales. I was feeling better and better about myself.

On another occasion when I stopped at the lingerie shop the owner murmured to me that she had something special. She was waiting on another woman and I had time to get wet before she motioned for me to come into the dressing room. I had my blouse unbuttoned before I got to the doorway. Before she came back in with the lingerie I had my blouse and bra off. She was carrying a tiny bra and panties. She stared at my breasts for a long time. My nipples flushed and I blushed. She helped me put the bra on. I was surprised to find that it had almost no cups, just strings and a bit of a band that fit around the base of my breasts. She reached in and pulled my breasts in such a way that they felt very full, the skin of my breasts was taught. My nipples ached as she turned me to one side and then the other for a complete inspection. I was surprised at how the little straps made my breasts project. Before I recovered she had unbuttoned my skirt and pulled the zipper down. I let her slip the skirt off and I pulled off my hose and panties. She offered me a tiny thong that matched the bra. I pulled it on and was surprised to find that the back strap was thick and rope-like, I had noticed this style at the clubs. Next she handed me a pair of hose, not panty hose but two individual stockings. I sat down to pull on the hose and jumped in surprise, the thick strap of the thong pressed against my anus. She clucked and said that I would get used to the feeling. I pulled on the hose and stood up to look in the mirror. She busied herself at straightening the hose and pulling them even higher on my legs. Now the backs of her hands were brushing my buttocks and even my pussy. I could see her in the mirror as she peered closely at my buttocks. She turned me to face her and looking at my pussy with its straggles of hair peeking from behind the tiny panties she announced that I would have to begin trimming, then she tucked stray wisps behind the material. My pussy tingled at her touch, when I shivered she grinned and patted my bare buttock.

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byCharles36© 3 comments/ 41646 views/ 22 favorites

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