Editor's note: This is an embellished story from my past. Enjoy! Thanks to kenjisato once again for his excellent editing.
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Voluntary Love
Chapter 1
At the end of the 1980s, I moved to work in a small town in the north of England. As a totally blind person, and long before the flash technology of today, the only way of reading stuff was having a volunteer reader who would come round and read all my correspondence and other things.
I usually recruited through the local charity working with blind and partially-sighted people.
The first two people I saw didn't cut it. Not because of the reading skills, but basically because they were blokes. Like most 27-year-old men who had not had much sex, I was obsessed. Basically, I wanted--needed--to be loved. Don't we all, I hear you say--but for me, it went deep.
So, when the third person I interviewed, turned out to be a middle-class woman with a middle-class accent, she got it straightaway. A middle-class female accent is a real turn-on for me.
Imagine my disappointment then, but not surprise, when at the first session, she told me about her husband. Not surprised because I was used to my pursuit of any woman going bloody nowhere.
So my first reaction was to go cold and think 'how can I find someone else?' But also in that first session, she did two things that attracted her to me. She made me laugh, and she asked me lots of questions about myself, as if she was genuinely interested.
And over the weeks to come, we got on really well. We were very different in many ways, and I think that was the attraction. She was 50, I was 27. She didn't work, as both she and her husband had loads of money from their families. He worked. I was a consultation worker doing a job I enjoyed, but knew I would probably want to move on from it soon. She wanted to know about a working-class, blind Welshman, and I wanted to find out about a middle-class woman with all the traditional middle-class tastes you could get.
The first one we discussed was classical music. Up to that point, I had always dismissed it. So she put Beethoven's Ninth on.
A karmic, cosmic, orgasmic moment? There was all the power of Led Zeppelin in classical music. I fell in love with choral music on the same night.
She had been reading for me for about a year when what I am going to tell you now happened, she introduced me to fine dining. Again another revelation.
The reason she was able to take me out for dinner, was that her husband was not the slightest bit interested in her. Their three children were all in their early 20s, and they stayed together just for appearance's sake. All their friends would gossip like shit if they split. And their friends were all the friends she had.
She knew many of the other women friends took her husband's side. Mainly because she had not done much, to keep either her figure or her looks. She was definitely chubby apparently, and didn't really shave anywhere.
This pissed off the other wives who were very status and looks-conscious. She had heard some of them whispering, that if her husband went off to fuck someone else, that they would understand.
In return, or actually I'm not sure it was, as I was a pretty open person anyway, I told her about my love life--or rather, the short of it. I had begun seeing a woman shortly after moving to the town. We had a bit of a physical relationship, including my first cumming inside a woman.
Yes, I even told her that!
It was very weird, though. I was never sure where I stood, with her. One minute, she'd be rubbing chocolate cheesecake on her naked tits for me to lick and suck off; the next, she would come to bed in full pyjamas and wouldn't let anything happen.
Jane, my reader's name, was very sympathetic, as I was to be to her. And we just kept talking to each other about everything. As well as dinner, we went to the nearest big town for concerts and we went out for the odd walk.
During the walks, she would be guiding me which meant I held her arm by the elbow. This brought the back of my hand in contact with her tit. I couldn't really help it, as her tits were clearly very big and very soft. She never seemed to mind, though.
At the end of the first year of her reading, she volunteered to give me a hand moving to a new flat. To thank her, I offered to buy her a take-away.
"Oh no," she said, putting on the posh accent. "Not your working-class junk food!"
I had told her about liking middle-class accents, and also that I had been involved in far-left revolutionary politics for a couple of years. She was a liberal voter, but had never heard of Trotsky. When I explained, she basically took the piss; which was fine because I had never really taken it that seriously; although, I was definitely on the left of the spectrum.
So ever since then, she had gently taken the mickey whenever the opportunity allowed. As I did of her highbrow tastes.
"Well, we can see if we can get some pan-fried escargot and beef bourguignon, your majesty!"
She laughed, and gently punched me on the arm. "Let's go out, and you can pay. How about that?"
I had offered to pay before, but she had always refused because of her money. It was from her family, but she had worked too, as an estate agent and made a lot of money before retiring at 49.
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We had a great time. We had taken a taxi, so she could drink. By the time we left the restaurant, we were quite pissed.
I ordered us another taxi. When it arrived and we got in, I was opening my mouth to say to drop Jane off first, when she cut in.
"West house flats, please."
That was the name of my flat. It was easier and shorter to drop her off first, so I didn't know what she was doing.
"I need to talk to you about something in private," she said quietly, as if she had read my mind.
We sat silent all the way back to the flat and up in the lift. I sensed something important was coming. What did happen, I would never have anticipated in a years.
I let us in. I took my jacket off, and went through to the living room. Getting there, I turned to say, "Do you want--"
I never finished the statement. Jane's mouth closed on mine and her lips were very wet and soft, as they moved around my mouth. She broke for air after a time, but came straight back. This time, her tongue went looking for and finding mine.
I was gobsmacked, stunned, and everything else--including a bit terrified. My cock and tongue, of course, reacted automatically so that when Jane's hand found my crotch, it found something very solid.
"Oh that's nice," she breathed into my mouth. "I really do want a better look at that."
She was back snogging me again, and it wasn't until she came up for air a second time, that I had the chance to speak.
"I know this sounds like a stupid question," I said weakly, as we stood facing each other, "but, what's happening?"
In response, she moved in close and put her arms around my neck, and kissed me again for a very long time. Instinctively again, my arms went round her back. She definitely had a layer of fat on her and she was curvy, as well. Risking it, I let my hands wander down to her bum which was big and soft.
