I don't really know why I try to write, especially for a website like this.
My late friend Lee wrote some, encouraged by her husband Ted that wrote all of the time. I still have boxes of his work, some finished and some just outlines.
He encouraged Lee to try, in turn she encouraged me. Somehow I just ended up doing it, somehow it makes me feel better when I am alone. I can go back and find what I wrote and read them again for the memories.
The real problem is that this site is for material that is sexual in nature and I guess that even at 43 years of age I am still confused about all of that.
It's really strange though. No one knows who I am really, yet writing about some things, or using certain words I would never dream of actually saying out loud brings a blush to my cheeks.
It's a therapy of some kind, I am beginning to understand that. I guess the truth is I write for me, not for anyone else? Yet it still hurts me when someone emails and hates me for what I have to say, even..when I am anonymous?
I'm Sally, readers probably gathered that from the name I used. That was picked out for me by my friend Lee years ago when I tried to write under a name with some numbers but then couldn't find it because I forgot it.
I can't forget "imsally" because I am Sally.
I am a Doctor, that brings a vision of someone who sees sick people or fixes broken bones. But I seldom do that, normally I shuffle papers and make sure the staff has supplies they need. I used to do that, anyway.
My ex-husband Tom talked me into quitting, we moved to the coast. I wrote about some of my experiences earlier. Tom and I were married once before, there were problems and I left him. Then he showed up one day and one thing led to another and we were married again.
Everyone warned me, even people I don't know at all told me but I loved Tom.
I guess deep down inside I still do?
But Tom has things inside him, he does things and wanted us, me rather, to do things I couldn't really deal with.
I am not a prude by any stretch of the imagination, but I can't just "be" with someone just to do it. There should be something more, even if it's just..friendship?
Yet I have in the past in moments of weakness. But I am still a product of my upbringing, sex to me is important, but reserved for someone I care about.
There has to be more and I don't even know for sure what that "more" is? It's all so confusing to me.
I can be sexual, teasing, at least with my man. I did that a lot with my Tom, I delighted in getting him excited, giving him pleasure. Tom doesn't have a large erection, but he gets so hard it is amazing! I love to do that, make him hard and excited. That makes me feel so good!
Tom would love me and then afterwards he would hold me and stroke me for a long time. It was wonderful, I felt so safe and warm.
Since I knew what reaction Tom would have, that type of thing is easy. But with someone I don't know, I think that there is the fear of rejection, perhaps?
I am in pretty good shape for my age, my body is now snug and as firm as it will ever get. I like my upper body, I was blessed with a fair size of well shaped breasts. For many years I fought my lower body, clothes had to be just right or my behind would look oversize.
Then there was that silly bike Tom got for me to save on wear to my van. I rode that not even realizing it was exactly what I needed to do. A few short months of that and I felt like a different woman, the oversize rear end just went away, replaced by muscle.
I kept the bike, I still have that. I ride the six miles down to a tiny little town between my house and Portland, there is a store and a cafe there, most of the distance is downhill so I just coast along. Then I ride back, of course that is uphill and I am always sweating by the time I get to my house, even when it is cold outside.
My last story should have been called Full Circle, I just did come full circle. I bought the very same house I sold when Tom and I moved, I work in the same clinic I worked at before. Not as the Administrator, just on the line working with clients. One day I will get my old job back, right now Cheryl that used to be my assistant has my old job.
That part seems odd, I admit. One of my former staff is now my supervisor.
I started dating a man named Terry, he was the real estate broker I used to buy my old house back and another one I bought first that I now rent out.
One thing led to another there and he asked me out. I half expected him to make some kind of a move but he didn't, we just went out a few times. I was even prepared to resist at first until I got to know him, then when I felt that maybe he was all right and I was...I guess the word is..ready?
He still didn't make any kind of real move, just kissed me goodnight and left. We got home on our 5th date and he started to kiss me goodnight again. I decided, so I asked him if he would like to come in.
A lady has to do what a lady has to do, I guess. I was missing being with someone by then.
He sat on the couch as I made and served some tea. I could see he was unsure even at this point, some men are that way. There was nothing else for a girl to do but take over, I guess.
I reached over and turned the lights down low, then sat next to him and leaned in for a kiss. By the time I had his shirt unbuttoned and was flicking his left nipple with the tip of my tongue he got the message.
It didn't take him very long after that and he had my blouse off, then he slid my skirt down and off. All I had on by this time was a light blue pair of panties. Terry nuzzled my breasts, sucked on one of my nipples, and felt between my legs a couple of minutes. Then he slid my panties off and lay me back. I was hoping maybe he would lick me and nuzzle some more me but he didn't.
Terry was so much bigger than Tom it took me several seconds and some deep breaths to relax enough for him to slid inside me. Finally he was, and just as I settled down and got comfortable I felt him let go. Then he pulled out and rolled over, lay there with his eyes closed. He seemed eager to dress and go home after that, too.
We went out just one more time, with the same results. Terry quit calling after I made excuses several times. Terry actually was nice but I needed more than he could ever give and I knew that.
I just went back to my work and my life. I could write and say there was a string of men, one after the other. There wasn't, it has never been that way in my life. Sure, I now felt that I had a pretty good body, but being 43 and on the plain side it isn't easy to attract men.
I went a full month just working and going home. I wrote the last story but it sat there in preview for a very long time before I got back to it. I wanted something to happen that would be sexy, interesting. But what I wrote is all there was, just a piece of my life.
That writing thing, that therapy again. It seems to work. I feel better putting it all down.
The next thing that happened is a little bit funny now but it wasn't at the time. My house has a big deck out back, in fact it is way bigger than common sense would suggest. I like it though, it has a builtin barbeque that I have never used, nice deck chairs and on warm days lots of light reaches it even though there are large trees around.
It is nice and private, too. I sometimes go out there and sit and watch the birds, sipping tea with some soft music playing. It is peaceful to sit out there in the sunlight, quiet with nature all around.
I was doing just that, it was the middle of the week and I had taken the morning off to do some paperwork. By afternoon I was all done so I went outside and sat in the recliner. It was a warm day, so I took off my blouse, then on impulse I took off my jeans. I lay back in just my panties and let the sunlight wash over me. It felt good, I dozed off.
I woke with a start, and realized a man was standing there. He had climbed up the side steps, the meter for my house is located in the back by the deck. He was there to do some kind of changeover to a different type of meter that they can read from the office.
There I sat with my breasts bare wearing nothing but a pair of thin white panties. I quickly reached for my blouse and covered up as he stammered an apology and tried to explain about the meter. I saw he was trying to not look at me but failing miserably.
"It's all right, I didn't expect anyone." I told him.
"I can come back later." He said, his face bright red.