Betsy was sitting sideways on the maroon couch in the living room of her tasteful home. Her shapely legs were curled up on the cushions underneath her perfect ass; her left arm resting on the back. Her manicured nails were toying with the decorative piping along the edge as she listened to her oldest son's
Abbey Road
album playing on the console stereo across the room.
She was staring wistfully past the parted beige curtains, through the front windows. It was a brilliant sunny day; the sweet aroma of honeysuckle wafting in the breeze coming through the mesh screens. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath savoring the scent, allowing herself a moment away from the thoughts troubling her.
She was home alone, her life as a full-time housewife leaving her that way often. There were times she lamented not being one of the few mothers that actually worked at a paying job, wishing she'd chosen a career that actually put her college degree to use. In truth she was a rarity for her generation in that she went to college at all. Most of the girls she went to high school with got married during or shortly after; most starting a family within months of their nuptials.
The life of a wife and mother was never on her original path. She was from a small town in central Illinois, and her first goal was to escape the confines that rural community had created. She felt stifled there, knowing there was much more to life than anything that could be offered.
Upon graduating she made the bold decision to attend a large state university in Indiana. In doing so she'd found herself. Her four years at college had a profound impact on the woman she would become. She flourished in that environment. Not only did she excel academically and grew in so many ways spiritually, the discoveries she made sexually were life-changing. She fondly looked back on those four years as her awakening.
It was after graduating college where the path she had originally set out on took a much different turn. It wasn't one of regret. The path chosen was simply different; a role she hadn't envisioned for herself.
That was why the way she was feeling bothered her so much. It didn't happen often. She was a devoted wife and loving mother and she'd learned to thrive in those roles, yet her uneasiness was occurring more of late. She knew part of it was a sense of loss. She wasn't needed as much as a mother anymore. Her oldest son was away at college and had only recently announced his decision to stay on campus over the summer to work, and to continue to basking in his new independence. It was a choice she could easily relate to, but it came as a surprise. He had never shown much self-confidence at home, so it was a good sign that he was excited about where his life was going.
Her youngest was approaching his teenage years at what seemed like light speed. Intellectually he was already there. While he still showed the emotions an eleven-year-old naturally would, he had far more maturity than his brother had at that age. The same could be said of him physically. He was already a versatile athlete, excelling at pretty much any sport he tried.
He had also become very independent, to the point he would be easily agitated at the idea of by being mothered. His personality was so opposite from that of his older sibling that Betsy found herself struggling with what role she should play in his life. It was vastly different from her experience with her first child, who seemed to need her attention constantly. Such was the case with two boys who were so far apart in age it was almost like each was an only child.
With more time on her hands she found herself contemplating that path she'd taken. She didn't hate her life, but having more idle time had her longing for more. She wondered how things might be different had she chosen to stay true to the original plan that college prepared her for.
It was only human to have such thoughts occasionally, imagining if parts of her life would have been better or more rewarding as far as her own self-worth. She loved her husband beyond measure; actually more than ever. And she cherished her boys, loving the gift that was motherhood and the joy they both provided her in their own way. But all of that didn't stop the feeling of melancholy gnawing at her.
That wasn't the reason she was on the couch though. It had more to do with an angst that had been festering inside for the better part of the week. Her attitude was just simply a reflection of that. She was perched in that spot in an almost desperate hope to force a change to her mood, using music and scents to fill her with a fresh outlook.
Waiting there as patiently as she could, the time on her hands had her daydreaming. Wherever that happened it was usually introspective, and it was almost always started with the inquisitive woman she was during her college years.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
She did very well at her university, making the Dean's List in her junior and senior years. She majored in English with a minor in History. As a sophomore her original thinking was to become a teacher. She'd always loved literature and she excelled at writing. She was also drawn to the circumstances of past events, immersing herself into subjects like the American Revolution and the Civil War. It was the idea of researching something that happened in pursuit of facts or new details that had her believing as a senior that a career in journalism would be more rewarding.
She often found it interesting how much her mindset had changed in just two years at school. She didn't change majors but she did alter the path toward her new goal. It was that personal growth that the experience of college created, and it was in that environment that she went from a girl with a dream to a woman with a purpose.
That didn't mean there weren't early challenges. Fall semester her freshman year was a bit rough, what with being away from home for the first time ever. Not only did she have to adapt to the intensity of the schoolwork, she had to learn how to navigate life on a big campus. Things as routine as eating and doing laundry were a mystery in the beginning. There were times she felt lost, as if she were just a number instead of a person. It was easy to disappear and seem invisible amongst the masses.
Part of that was living in a dorm. Her assigned roommate was nice, but they didn't really click. There were so many girls trying to share the community bathroom that she craved more privacy. Juggling homework and a part-time job was a huge adjustment. Three times in the first month she missed dinner in the dining hall because she lost track of time studying in the library across campus and she didn't make it back in time before it closed. She began to wonder if she'd survive her first year.
Things changed when she pledged to a sorority mid-way through the fall. She'd seen a flyer on the wall of the student union and she made the first bold decision of her young life. She wanted more from her experience on campus. The promises of camaraderie, fun and a sense of belonging that were touted on the leaflet appealed to her. By winter semester she had moved out the dorm and was living in a humongous house with roughly thirty other sorority sisters.
It was a quick transition, not bereft with new challenges. But in a few weeks she soon realized it was the change she was looking for.
She'd become fast friends with Carrie Foster, a charismatic girl with a heart of gold. Carrie was full of life and Betsy was drawn to her. She had a worldlier outlook, hailing originally from Chicago. A great deal of her confidence had to do with her upbringing in a big city. Some of it had to do with her looks.
She was blessed with a chest as huge as her personality. While Betsy was modest in the perky B-cup range, Carrie was well beyond a D. It was rare for a young woman in the early 50s to flaunt her bosom if she wasn't some Hollywood starlet, but she was proud of her God-given assets and she wasn't shy about wearing clothes that accentuated her hourglass figure.
The two clicked from day one and became roommates and best friends. Those first few weeks were spent getting to know one another. Betsy explained what life was like growing up in a small, somewhat repressed rural community. Not all the stories were boring, perhaps because of the charismatic way Betsy would tell them. She had a gifted vocabulary and an active imagination. Carrie actually found parts of Betsy's small-town life enchanting.
In turn Carrie would regale Betsy with tales of growing up as a busty young girl in the Windy City. She was often mistaken for someone much older and she took advantage of the attention. While she didn't consider herself the stunning beauty that Betsy was, she was cute, and she had an allure about her from the way she carried herself.
The attention she received became something she craved once she learned about sex. It was easy to admit she learned the hard way, her mother never telling her to be wary of men and their advances. There was no talk about why her body was rapidly changing the way it was, or why she got her first period at age nine. All she knew was she was suddenly different than all her friends.
