Voyage of Self Discovery

Copyright © March 2018 by CiaoSteve

CiaoSteve reserves the right to be identified as the author of this work.

This story cannot be published, as a whole or in part, without the express agreement of the author other than the use of brief extracts as part of a story review.

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.

Author's Notes

Foreword #1 : All sexually active characters in this story are over 18.

Foreword #2 : This is a story and intended purely for pleasure.

Foreword #3 : This story has been written using a suggestion from a fellow reader, Bablee whose name I have used in the story but for no other purpose than having a name for a character. I hope she and you enjoy reading.

Foreword #4 : Thank you so much to mbrow for being kind enough to read the draft story and provide his edits. Very much appreciated.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I was always a conservative sort of girl from childhood through to adulthood. Being brought up in Pakistan, it was sort of expected. Don't get me wrong I'm not saying that I was a prude, four almost grown up children demonstrates that not to be the case, but anything intimate was kept very much secret from the prying world. Out and about it was a case of cover up; shoulders covered, legs covered, head covered, you name it the expectation was to cover up, at least in public and who was I to go against expectation?

So why am I writing this, I hear you say, especially if I am so much the conservative girl that I mentioned before.

Well

, yes that was me all the way until I turned forty. What is it they say about turning forty? Something like "life begins at forty" I believe. Whoever first came up with that phrase was spot on the money. More through necessity than planning, life did turn upside down not long after my fortieth year and I guess I never looked back. I have now just reached my half century and life is still pretty good, so good in fact that I thought it was about time I came clean with who I am now. Who knows, maybe it would inspire others to release their inhibitions and realise their true selves. In my case it was more than a revelation.

It was my darling husband who bought me this notebook, leather bound with gold trimmings as an homage to fifty years. It was my darling husband who also suggested I put it to good use. He even bought the pen that I am holding in my hand. So, as I write I look back and think to myself how unbelievable the story is and, more so, how unbelievable my darling husband is. Sometimes I have to pinch myself to remember that it is a real story and one in which I was the centre of all attention. I will tell you how a conventional local girl embarked on a journey of discovery with some truly enlightening results. I guess the only question now is where to start? Get on with it I hear you saying, but before I do I think it is worthwhile to reflect a little on who I was. Maybe then you will really understand that life did begin at forty or so, at least for one middle aged woman.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I married young. It wasn't an arranged marriage but again it was sort of expected. I'd known Javed since my school days and what's more, my family knew his from a long time before then. He came from the village next to mine. It wasn't love at first sight, but what relationship is? Instead it was a bit of a slow burner, the two of us growing closer as the years went by, with just the merest hint of encouragement from our families. After school Javed went on to University and I got myself a job in a nearby town; a domestic job for a wealthy family. I thought that would be that, the end of our relationship, but three years later in the middle of summer he came back for me. Javed now had a job in an office, I wasn't sure what he was doing but it was something financial. I knew there and then that Javed would be the one I would spend the rest of my life with.

It was soon after he had returned that the question was popped, taking me quite by surprise. Of course I said yes, again it was sort of expected, but it was also what I wanted more than anything else. Before the year was over we were husband and wife. I look back on those days and think how good life was then but how different it was compared to now. Javed's career was going from strength to strength and the money coming in had allowed us to buy a place of our own, providing a much needed degree of privacy. It was this newly found privacy that I was intent on making the most of. I didn't even need to work any more, with his regular income coming in, and I could concentrate on making our house a home. Free from the spying eyes of our parents it was time to enjoy ourselves a little more, after all I wasn't getting any younger and again it was expected that you would have a family, or should I say it was what I wanted to have a family.

I'd love to say we broke with tradition when it came to the bedroom department, and I guess to an extent we did, but it was still rather traditional. I can remember the first time just as vividly as the last. We'd kept ourselves until we were married but then we were never alone long enough to get up to any mischief until we had that place of our own. Having moved in though, we were quickly putting things to rights.

The first time started out as a typical weekend, as usual a weekend at home. Our evenings were usually spent snuggled up in front of the television, and this was no exception. That was until the power went off. It happened quite often in the town where we lived and, with no power, there was little you could do but wait and hope. This time it was fairly late in the evening so we decided to retire to the bedroom. It was never the intention to do anything other than go to sleep. Javed lit a couple of candles and placed them on a side table. Pitch blackness had now become an amber glow as the flicker of the candle flames danced around in the little breeze caused by our movements. I thought to myself how relaxing the ambience had suddenly become.

With Javed in the bathroom I removed my traditional full dress, stripping down to bra and panties. I grabbed my bedclothes from under the sheets, a long sleeved top and three quarter length shorts, and was about to continue with my change in attire when a strong pair of hands grabbed me from behind.

"Javed," I shrieked having been taken by surprise "what on earth you doing?"

I tried to turn but he held me tight, his arms around my shoulders and his chest close up into my back.

"Close your eyes," he whispered, blowing on my ear lobe as he spoke.

"Why?" came the obvious reply.

"'Cos I love you. Does there have to be another reason?"

There was a little kiss on my neck, just beneath my ear where I always felt most sensitive. I sighed at the feel of those kisses continuing up my neck all the way up to my ear itself. Without even thinking about it I closed my eyes. The effect was fantastic, shadows of the candle light seemingly seeping through my eyelids as the feathery touch of his mouth ran across my smooth neck. He pulled away and I just stood there, eyes still closed, waiting. I wasn't sure what I was waiting for but what happened did come as a surprise. I felt his fingers run down from my neck, passing between my shoulder blades as they edged down my back. How he did it I don't know, but without even having the time to react I felt the back of my bra pull apart, the sudden lack of pressure releasing my ample breasts from their confines.

I spun around, instinctively clasping the cups of my bra to my body as if suddenly embarrassed.

"What are you doing Uma . . . " I started to ask before breaking off in mid sentence.

There in front of me, in nothing but his birthday suit, stood my husband. OK, so it wasn't the shock of seeing him naked, I'd seen that before of course, but this was so breaking with convention. He grabbed my hands, pulling them down and letting the fabric of my bra drop down my extended arms. Releasing my hands, he watched as the garment fell to the floor. Pulling me close, he whispered once more in my ears.

"Bablee," he whispered "don't you feel it?"

I looked at him quizzically, still a little shocked with the ease at which he had half undressed me.

"The peace of the night broken only by the flicker of the candles. Those warm shadows playing up and down your body. It's so sensual, don't you think?"

I thought for a moment. He had a point, there was something sensual, almost arousing, about standing here in our room under the flicker of nothing more than a couple of candles. I felt his lips touch mine and almost immediately I sank into his arms, my resolve softening in an instant. I loved Javed and he was right, the effect of the candlelight was stoking my inner most desires. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and pulled him in tight, Javed reciprocating with his hands pressing into the nape of my back. For the first time I could feel the firm flesh of my breasts crushed up against his manly chest, the nipples forming hard nubs as they pushed back into my soft mounds.

Once more I had my eyes closed, simply enjoying the gentle caress of lips on lips. I barely noticed the stroke of his hands as they followed my spine upwards to my shoulders and then all the way down again. Fingers eased their way into the waistband of my panties and clenched at my firm buttocks.

"Take them off," he whispered seductively.

There was no reply from my side. No confirmation, yet at the same time no resistance. I waited, still enchanted by that kiss, as Javed took matters into his own hands. Gradually at first, then picking up speed, he worked my panties down over my hips releasing them only at the point where gravity would take over. Here I stood, in his arms, as naked as he was except for a pair of panties lying on the floor around my ankles. I flicked them away knowing I was now totally nude.

Javed pulled away and, disappointedly, I opened my eyes. He was simply standing there, staring at my nakedness as if it was the first time he had ever seen me this way. I watched as his eyes met mine before slowly running down across my body. He paused briefly as he took in the firmness of my breasts, each topped off with a hard nub of a nipple, and then his line of sight continued further down. Again he paused as his eyes met my mound. I could almost feel his gaze reaching in through my hairy bush and peeping at the hidden treasures inside. I smiled back at my husband.

"It's a bit chilly, don't you think. How about we get under the covers?"

Javed didn't reply, instead simply leading me by the hand towards our marital bed. He pulled back the covers before lifting me up in his strong arms and placing me gently onto the mattress. He quickly followed, pulling up the covers over our naked bodies. We lay there for some time, my head on his chest with his arms securely around my shoulders. I felt so secure, so loved, never wanting to leave my husband's warm grasp. He ran his fingers seductively through my long dark locks, pulling my fringe back away from my forehead. I felt his lips gently press where my hair had once been.

"I love you Bablee," he whispered.

I pulled myself close in against his chest. Those words always meant a lot, but tonight they meant so much more. I didn't resist when he eased my shoulder backwards, pushing me gently onto my back. Not even when he lowered himself down into the bed until he was at my level. And definitely not when his lips met mine once more. My resolve had once more ebbed away as I enjoyed the gentle caress of that long kiss. A hand reached down and cupped my breast, kneading the soft flesh and every so often grazing against my nipple. A stifled moan left my lips as I felt his hand rub across my hard nub.

My breathing was ever so slightly deeper as he continued to work on my breasts, first one and then the other. I felt a firmness at my lips, probing at the opening. Easing my lips open, I allowed his tongue the access it wanted into my mouth. I shivered as our tips met, a bolt of pure energy hitting me every time they connected. There was something else though, something new. An emotion, or maybe more a feeling, that I just couldn't quite put my finger on. There were butterflies in my stomach mixed with the heavy beat of my thumping heart. Down below though, deep inside, was a warmth. A warmth and a feeling of wetness.

"Mmmm, I love you Javed," I moaned into his mouth as he continued to tease my breasts.

Then his hand moved away, tracing a path down across my body and over my mound. I tensed slightly as his fingers traced their way through my hairy bush. Despite the fact that we were not freshly married, it was the first time that he had touched me down there. My heart was pounding continually and my stomach swirling with nervous anticipation as I felt a digit reach the apex of my pussy lips. I spread my legs slightly, allowing greater access and closed my eyes, breaking away from his kiss. I gasped at the feel of my outer lips being eased apart and the tip of that finger sliding inside. The way it slid told me where that feeling of wetness was coming from. His finger slowly found its way down to my love canal and began to probe at the opening. I grabbed at his hand, holding it tightly.

"I'm sorry darling," came his whispered response. "I can stop if you want."

"No, don't stop. I want it, but just not your finger."

I pulled his hand away from my pussy and spread my legs wider. I reached out and briefly held Javed's manhood, already hard to the touch. It felt so big and I wondered just how it would fit inside. The strange thing though is that Javed would not have described himself as having a large cock, but not knowing any different, I thought it was huge, especially when compared to that single finger.

"Come up on top, but go easy."

Javed climbed over, positioning himself in between my outstretched legs. He kissed me gently before lifting his hips slightly. I felt a hand dip down between our bodies and then the tip of his cock ran up and down my snatch, causing me to shiver once more each time his head nudged into my most sensitive areas. Finally his manhood, just the tip, eased inside my lips, nestling at the entrance to my love canal.

My darling husband looked me straight in the eyes. He didn't have to say anything but I knew what the question was. I nodded and held my breath, not knowing whether to be excited or scared. There was a pressure as he leant forward, his weight inching his cock up inside. I was biting down on my lip as that pressure increased, my opening stretching wide over his head. He stopped for a minute and I tried to get used to the feeling, knowing he was barely inside but feeling the stretch down below.

"Are you ready?" he whispered. "It might hurt a little, but I'll go gently."

I nodded, still biting hard down on my lip. He held me tight, his arms a bastion of security. Then I felt it, his hips moving forward and the pressure building inside my pussy as he nudged closer to my womanhood. I moaned, more in pain than pleasure, as his cock finally pushed its way past my hymen. It hurt, just a little as he first went through and then some more as he started to slide in and out. I was eager not to show it though, not to spoil the evening for him and I just continued to bite my lip.

Eventually the pain subsided, or maybe I got used to it, and I started to enjoy the feeling of his cock sliding in and out of my pussy. I could feel my walls becoming more sensitive the longer he continued to plough his furrow. There was a warmth inside, building gently from the merest spark to a raging fire. I held on tight as the fire took over, my body tensing as my orgasm neared.

My tensing seemed to give him encouragement and built up a head of speed, his breathing coming in pants as he went. I came first, clutching at him hard as a warmth flooded my body. Javed just continued though and within minutes he was moaning himself. Then with a couple of strong thrusts he stopped, his cock deep inside me. It was then that I felt another warmth in my loins. This time though was a wet warmth and I quickly realised he had filled me with his love juices. I held him closer, savouring the moment that my darling husband had made a true woman of me.

It was an evening I was never going to forget, even after everything which would happen later in life.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

So that was the start of what became a very strong relationship albeit, as I said before, a very conventional relationship. Everything about our love making was conventional. Always in private, we would only ever make love in our bedroom with the lights off. We would always be in bed, him on top and me underneath. He never asked for anything else and I never offered. We were doing what was expected of us and I was happy. I guess we would make out a couple of times a month, usually over the weekend. I wouldn't go as far as to say that you could set your watch by it, but there was a sort of regularity in our relationship.

It didn't take long before I fell pregnant with our first child. It was a beautiful little girl and for me the family seemed complete. I could tell though that for Javed something was missing, another expectation I guess, and we continued trying. Our second was a boy and I could tell that Javed was happy, or more to the point the families were happy. By the time our fourth child was born, the feeling of completeness was definitely there. That was some sixteen years or so ago and pretty much started the demise in our love life. It seemed that the children had taken over. I was always tired and to be honest the desire waned. I'd taken precautions not to have any more children, and we did still make out from time to time, but the frequency was becoming more and more erratic. It was as much a feeling of duty to my husband than it was personal pleasure. Had life taken over and subdued my sensual side or was convention itself just becoming dull and boring? I didn't know, but it also didn't seem to matter. We had each other. We had the children. We had the life that everyone expected us to have. What else could I have wanted for?

Then, in my forties, the unthinkable happened. There was a knock at the door one afternoon, totally out of the blue. Nobody ever knocked at our door. I opened it cautiously and peered outside. There, standing most professionally on the doorstep, was a gentlemen in a pale grey suit. I can still see the sombreness in his face as he stood there waiting.

"Are you Bablee? Javed's spouse?" he enquired.

"Yes," I replied hesitantly. Who was this man and how did he know my name?

"Can I come in?" came the next question.

I hesitated again. "Who are you?" was the only thing I could think to say.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. My name is Anil and I work with your husband. Please can I come in. I need to talk to you."

Good idea or not, I let him into the house. I led the way to the lounge and we both sat down. It was then that he told me. There had been an accident at the office. He didn't go into the details, and I didn't feel like asking. Javed had been injured and that was all that mattered. He was in the hospital but not in a good way. I still have never found out exactly what happened and why an accident in what was meant to be a financial office could leave somebody in a bad way.

Anil was here on behalf of the company to offer support during this challenging time. I guess I couldn't fault the support that came my way. He would take me to and from the hospital and would ensure that everything I needed was provided for. Javed did eventually return home, but he wasn't the same person. Mentally he was still my old Javed, but physically he was so different. I so hoped he would recover over time but it didn't seem to be the case. We had a long journey on our hands. Eventually Anil's support ended, and with it came the news that Javed had lost his job at the firm. It seemed that his injuries were too much for him, and the likelihood was that he would not be able to work any more.