Author's Note: This is the first thing I have ever posted on here, so the contents are likely to be either too fast, or too slow, too long, or too short. And it is bound to be riddled with grammatical errors. I'm still getting a feeling for the writing process. All feedback is not only accepted, but encouraged. I will do my best to listen as well as respond to your thoughts and opinions on this chapter. This WILL be a series.
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Time serves as a magnificent metric to measure the rise and fall of man. Dynasties to dust and slaves to kings. Distance yourself from the clock and all change becomes immediately apparent. What occurs in a single life is all that time is good for, it's all that actually matters. Everything else serves as entertainment for the unentertained- the old and the curious in pursuit of knowledge. But where does knowledge get you? Knowledge means nothing to those with power. And power comes from innate wisdom. You are either born high, or born low. Though I have learned this, and knowledge has aided me in truth, it was Mistress's wisdom that I understood. From undeserved strength, I have found where I truly belong, what I actually am, who I was meant to be. Mistress has rectified all of my mistakes.
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Every day I wake up to go to my job as Political Science Professor at 6:30AM, alone. It's been almost 2 years since my husband and I annulled our vows and I still keep a photo of our wedding day on my nightstand. Some may find this pathetic, but I see it more in a historical light. I no longer admire this man, in fact, in some respects I find myself hating him. But what is the point of living without pride and regret? I suppose I keep the picture to remember how miserable I was when I was with him.
He left me for selfish reasons. I spent too much time in lessons, and never gave him enough freedom. I was a bitch it seemed. What a silly, ridiculous reason to leave your wife. Bitch is a word men use to shame confident women.
I rose from bed with tangled hair and faded make-up from the night before. The sun drips from the window some 5 feet to the right of my bed and exposes the imprint from my painted face onto my pillow. Yesterday had been a long one. My friend Jane, another Poli Sci professor at the university, set up a string of dates for me starting at noon. First was a movie date with a bearded man about 6 feet tall who smelled of cigarettes. Next, about 4 hours late I went roller skating with a more dignified man who chronicled for me his adventures in Europe a few years ago. A charming man, but too young for a woman in her 40s, even if just barely. At 9, I finished my night at De Gama's, a nice Italian restaurant in the heart of Seattle, a cumbersome 45 minute drive from my house. Completely exhausted from my 2 dates, both of which ended in a rather disappointing manner, I trudged in to the establishment.
"I made a reservation earlier, party of 2."
"Just a moment," the hostess looked at me for a brief second, watching my lips form the last of my sentence before going to her screen concealed behind her stand. "Julia?"
"That would be me," I said with a tired expression.
"Right this way please."
She lead me through the crowded restaurant, all the way to the back, where a lonely man sat with a rose. This man was dressed in a nice jacket, and had long, wavy hair. He looked very thin for his height which measured to just below 6 feet. He was pale with narrow shoulders which made the nice jacket look almost shabby. If I hadn't known about this date before, and prepared to meet a man Jane had only described as "A bit feminine," I would have thought he was a woman. Though, he was a fair bit attractive.
The night from there was rather surprisingly pleasant. He could see how tired I was let me leave early. Arriving back home at 11 o'clock, I stripped nude and went to sleep.
So my hair was tangled, and make-up was faded. I made my way into the bathroom to wash my face in preparation for the upcoming day- the last Friday before term starts; a day in which professors and students get to meet each other in a formal environment. Food and drinks are provided and most people, at least the intelligent students, dress nice to impress their new professors. Inevitably, a small hand-full of girls take liberties in their attire and draw the attention of our male staff. Intelligence and cunningness often comes at the cost of dignity.
I brushed my hair for a short minute before finding yesterday's black bra on the ground and put it on. The bra was a tiny bit too small for my 34 C breasts, but I enjoyed the cleavage it gave me so it became one of my favorite bras.
At 42, I still looked sexy in my own opinion. My breast were still firm, I possessed no wrinkles nor scars, and my ass was something of desire for my female coworkers who complained about how tired they get at the gym. Jane always said my ex should've stayed for my body if anything. Though, she was no average Sally either.
Jane had straight blond hair that fell just to her shoulders and ended at a line. Her breasts were just slightly smaller than my own, but perkier as well. She had a flat tummy with a nice "V" by her hips. She was a bit of health nut and she reaped the benefits for it. Her thighs were well-toned and her legs smooth as silk. She had brown eyes which were nothing remarkable, but her lips were full, which brought face together. The only tell of her age, which tallied to 40 years were the slight wrinkles on the corner of her eyes. She was so pretty, I was always confused as to why she could never land a steady relationship. She was a lesbian, but that's no reason for always having girlfriends walk out. Every girl she's ever dated left after the first date. I tell her it's because they're all intimidated by her independence. She tends to scoff at this remark.
Returning to my room, I scavenge my drawers for other clothes to cover my naked body, and end up picking out a pair of white panties and a red silk robe. The event wasn't until 6 in the afternoon so I had plenty of time to relax.
There truly was nothing to be done at that moment, so I chose to relax in bed while I watched reruns of generic TV dramas. An episode of "In Time" was half way through by the time I turned to its channel. To my utter dismay, two women were shown in having heated sex, under the sheets of course, as not to violate any broadcasting rules. The noises they were emitting were like sirens with high, beautiful notes between uneven breaths. One girl was a petite Latina, taking advantage of white college girl who I assumed to be her friend. No nipples or pussies were shown, however, clearly outlined under the sheets was a set of legs and a head between them. The head went up and down, up and down, up and down, slightly, but rapidly. The Latina lifted her chest up to the sky, pushing the other girl's head down as if to keep her rooted to the earth. A moan like scream ejected from her open mouth and her legs closed with such force that I was scared that the girl under the covers would be crushed. Evidently she was fine, as she came out from under to lick her partner's chin up to her lips, injecting her tongue in the other's mouth, engaging in a passionate, and sloppy kiss.
At this, I changed the channel immediately. The thought of all the juices covering that student's face, being smeared onto the mouth and face of the girl who made them. It was disgusting. Though I supported Jane, her private life was one that I couldn't stomach. Nothing of the female form appealed to me. And to think that she, in many instances, was the girl underneath the sheets, made me a bit uncomfortable to associate with her.
Although, the thought, what if it was a man under there? What if I was the girl being pleasured? At this, my back straightened and my hand made a migration to southward. My index finger and my pointer finger made circles on the outside of my panties, massaging my clit. My chest was like waves, expanding and shrinking with deep, heavy breaths. The circle became quicker and breaths more shallow. Soon I just became rapid and forceful, such that my panties began agitating the delicate skin of my pussy. I stopped for second to reach into the bottom drawer of my nightstand where I keep my dildo and vibrators.
I pull out my dildo. It was nothing special at all. It measures about 5 inches in length, and was a smooth purple with a black logo on the bottom. It satisfied me well when my ex husband couldn't. That sorry excuse for a man.
My fantasies were always far more satisfying. Oh, and I was the girl with the lover under the sheets. The dildo slid under my panties which now boasted a wet spot where my fingers had been previously. From my panties, it entered my slit, and I gasped. It felt like heaven after such long dry-spell and I was eager to indulge.
In... out... in... out... in, out. In, out. In, out. In out in out in out. "Ohhhhhhhh." I went faster and faster and faster, and lost awareness of my surroundings. My panties hung by knees and my shoulders were now on the bed though my spine made no such contact, arching up into the air like a model posing for a shoot. Eventually I was so wet that cover had a wet spot and it was difficult to keep my toy from slipping out of my grasp. Some time went on but I didn't ease. All my mind was fog, and all my world- pleasure. My pussy was throbbing and radiating heat like an oven. It was bright red and swollen slightly as if it had been abused by a lover.
I pinched the lips of my engorged pussy and immediately forced my knees together and collapsed under the weight of fantastic orgasm which took my breath along with any
grasp of reality that remained in my head.
A minute passed before I could stop shuttering. When I regained clarity I noticed the filth I lie in. A small pool of my own excretions puddled under my bare ass made me a bit slippery. I strip the nasty sheets from the bed and throw them into the corner of the room where I leave them for the time-being.
I was dirty and decided to bathe myself in a warm shower. The water made my breast shine under the lighting and my horny mind became distracted for a short second. I decided that I was still aroused enough to find myself touching my nether parts without my command. I went for a second go and climaxed after only 5 minutes in the steamy water.
