This series is about the transformation of my wife Remi, from an ordinary suburban housewife, the mother of two, and the wife of one.
In later parts, you will meet many different characters and follow my and Remi's transformation, from a couple that has lost their love and sex life, to how we eventually got it back during this trip, Remi's transformation was the key to us finding a way back and how couples sex life can change if both parties are willing to do the leg work.
Main characters:
Me, Steve 45
Remi, my wife, 42 (when the story begins)
Valentýnka, 20, our Polish nanny
Veronique, 31 a lesbian French woman
Other key characters, that might be in only 1 or 2 parts:
Andy (Andrea), 19, my youngest brother's wife's sister (only in this part)
April, 29, my Remi's youngest sister
Emma, 28, my Swedish secretary
Clare, 34, Remi's older sister, married to Ed
Liv, 18 at the time, my sister
Stephanie, 19 at the time, my girlfriend and best friends with Liv
Katie, 20 at that time, best friends pregnant girlfriend, later wife
Tim, 19, no relation to the others, but play a huge part in our transformation as well
That's up 'til now. I am not done with this series by far, I have tons of ideas/setups.
The story begins with my wife meeting Veronique in a coffee shop in Boston, and their relationship will have a huge impact on my wife's transformation.
I do have to point out two more things:
First, I am not an English-speaking native, so grammatical horrendencies and major language fuckups are to be expected. Try to focus on the underlying story instead.
Secondly: If you start this series in part 7, 8 or 15, you really have to start here, since that all are connected.
And one more: This story is written from my point of view, when I am in the scene, but not when I am not in the scene, if that makes any sense.
Enjoy the ride.
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Middle-aged wife's sexual awakening
My wife, Remi was 42 years old, about 5 foot 6, and weighs around 130.
She wore her long blond hair, just beyond her shoulders, and she had very light blue eyes and a dazzling smile. I'd describe her as very good-looking but wholesome. Her strongest asset was definitely her chest. She was upgraded to handmade 34-DD cup bra, and after breastfeeding two kids it was an amazing investment. They had not sagged a bit but were still full and very bouncy. With her light complexion, her areola and nipples were light pink and blended with her whitish skin and were very sensitive to the touch.
Even though Remi was conservative in nature and dress, that didn't mean she was that way in the privacy of our home, especially at the beginning of our long marriage. She had many lacy bras, half cups, lace tops, teddies, and sheer blouses, many of which she would wear without a bra.
Over the years, she had collected a wardrobe of sexy outfits she wore for me around the house.
My hands down favorite outfit for her to wear was a sheer blouse without a bra. Being able to see those beautiful big tits through her blouse and watch them sway, jiggle and move around underneath, was a sight to see! But, like I said, that was a thing of the past.
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Remi took off her sunglasses as she went down the ramp to the car park, took her ticket from the machine, and looked around for a space on the ground floor. As usual, there was none at this time of day, so she moved on to the basement and - without bothering to check this level too closely - continued down to the lower basement where there were always spaces. She parked close by the elevator and went up to the fourth floor, where the kitchenware department was located.
"Everyone needs to eat," she thought drily.
"And drink," she added quickly. "I'll get them a coffee grinder. A fancy one - so we don't look like skinflints."
There was a surprisingly large selection - with items of different shapes and sizes from Sweden, Italy, and Japan. In the end, she plumped for a sensibly sized one from Italy.
"You can also use it for grinding sesame seeds if you want to make tahin", the sales assistant offered in an effort to be helpful.
"I have no idea what that is," Remi shot back. "It's a wedding gift," she filled in laughingly.
Her mission accomplished, she treated herself to a smoothie in a little shop she liked to use and checked her phone for messages.
Her ramblings were cut short by the sound of a woman speaking with a French accent, ordering something or other. The counter was behind her, and she didn't turn around. Now that she thought about it, though, Remi realized that it must have been this woman who had been responsible for bringing the scent of what she took to be an expensive perfume into the shop.
An infusion that had fought a battle for supremacy with the pervading aroma of coffee and only narrowly lost out.
Remi thought no more of the newcomer until she was about to leave when she became aware of a presence - her presence - behind her. This time, she had no option but to turn. They say first impressions are important - that they last. Perhaps Remi hadn't fully appreciated this until that day.
The woman was striking - attractive more than beautiful perhaps - late thirties, Remi estimated, and very well dressed.
"Well, she is French," Remi thought but said nothing.
The French woman, however, was unfazed and struck up a conversation as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
"It is a lovely day, no?" she said, slightly inclined towards the chair opposite Remi.
"Oh, please, yes, of course," Remi responded, with considerably less confidence than she might have hoped for.
"Would you care for another of whatever you were having? I could certainly manage another coffee. For an English coffee shop, this place is actually not bad at all."
"Well, if you will twist my arm, I wouldn't say no to an espresso."
The French woman waved an arm in the direction of the barista. Either she ignored her beckoning or she was too absorbed in what she was doing behind the counter. Either way, Remi thought it only neighborly to point out to her new acquaintance that this was very much a self-service sort of place, however much it might have pretensions to the French style in other ways.
"How silly of me," the woman said, placing her order at the bar.
