Jess Ch 01

Chapter One - Turning 42

(Author's Note: This story is one that builds in intensity and sexual heat with each new chapter. It is also written to be a story with a certain progression so it makes sense to read it in the order it is written. It was also written primarily for women who like a story. If you have the time to, I believe you will enjoy the adventure.)

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I don't know if it was turning 42 that started an amazing change in my life, but I can clearly remember the moment it began. I was standing in line at the local fresh market on my birthday and it was a cool day. I know it was cool because I questioned myself for days after that second in time to confirm to myself that what happened, happened and was not a mistaken feeling based upon climate conditions. Now, five years later, I have no doubt about that. It was I who had changed in the split of a second, or better said in the drawing of a single breath, it was definitely not the weather.

My name is Jessica, but most people call me Jess, a name I inherited as a young tomboy and never really gave up. Jessica was too stylish for a girl like me. I much preferred the company of boys, and still do, but never in any other way than being one of the guys. Don't get me wrong, I'm not butch, nor did I ever have a desire for women, I just have an affinity for men as a social group. That is as long as they don't get crude, which men seem to digress to given the chance. I am a woman, but I guess I never have had the more frilly womanly characteristics.

The down side of my genetic makeup has always been found in the relationship with my wonderful husband, Jon. I say wonderful because he has stuck with me through all my peculiar habits, and has abided that other side of me that I am about to tell you about. As much as I loved Jon, and as much as I thrilled in his company, I was not blessed with a sex drive to speak of. Oh sure, I enjoyed sex when we made the time. But, I never missed it when we didn't. Frankly, I could have gone my whole life without sex and would have never missed it. Sex to me was like a special meal at a great restaurant. I could live just as well without it, but I sure enjoyed it when I indulged in it.

In our marriage, Jon always initiated our coming together. He would ask, or try to "schedule" a time, but invariably something else would happen and it would be postponed. When I look back upon those first 20 years of our life together, I knew Jon had a desire for sex, but could not understand how that manifested itself. I just figured he was like me. Sex would happen, when it was convenient and not as a priority. Boy, did I ever have it wrong...

Now I am sure you are thinking, "Jon must not be a good lover, or, I bet she never had an orgasm." And you would be wrong. Jon was the ultimate in patience and technique and I would reach an orgasm several times during our lovemaking. They were always pleasurable, and they took some effort on Jon's part to give me, but he would do whatever it took to get me to climax, and then he would have his moment with me, usually in the missionary position, but not always. There were times when he would ask for something different and I would most always accommodate him.

Looking back, I think he worked that hard in the hope I would enjoy sex so much that one day I might ask for it from him, or might become more active in the session, taking a bit of control, or endeavoring to do some of the things I have read about or seen in movies. It never happened.

Sex was always an afterthought, and never a primary concern in my daily life. I must admit, I never really even thought about it. It was not like I would be standing there and all of a sudden have a sexual thought, or a desire to have sex. Well, at least not until I was standing in line at the fresh market. If you have an interest, I will fill you in on that moment and those that followed where I have entered a new world of pleasure, a world I never knew existed.

"Jess, what are you going to do today"? I said aloud as I exited the shower that morning. "It is your birthday you know ", I continued as if I were having a psychsophrenic moment. The tall mirror at the end of the bathroom revealed my body to me as it did every morning. "Not bad for 42...no sagging, no folds, very few wrinkles". "All in all you have kept the figure in good shape". I said this as I held my breasts up for inspection. They are not big; B+ cuppers is what they are, the "plus" being my descriptor. I always wanted them to grow into C cups, but alas it was not meant to be. I wanted C's for a fashion statement, as a nice accessory to go with my outfits, like a great pair of earrings. Besides, C's would look much better in a heavy sweater or in a bathing suit than my B+'ers.

I continued to scope out the landscape, turning a bit to glimpse the curve of my rear and how it sloped into my legs. "Not bad old girl", I said. The cheeks still defy gravity and the legs look tight. When I was 22, I attributed my shape to a great pair of jeans, now 20 years later; I know that it is due to a great set of genes. I have never been one to work hard on my body, I am among the fortunate, undeserving few who for whatever reason stay thin in spite of aging and eating. I do aerobics pretty regularly and keep fairly active throughout the day. I am sure that has helped, but I do that for relaxation not body shaping.

The final stop on my self-inspection was a short glance at the dark area of kinky hair at the top of my thighs. For a woman of 42, you would think I would know this territory as well as any other...not. I consider it the same way I do a dark jungle, mysterious and foreboding. I remember once pulling back the lips of my vulva and thinking "Doctor Livingston, are you in there?" I have always considered it a non-event in my feminine garden. I do not consider it attractive and have preferred to ignore it, occasionally combing it out in an attempt to make it "pretty". Besides, what difference does aging have on a fully-grown pussy?

I stretched my languid body and watched every move in the mirror. I was still supple. I was still attractive. I could still hold my own in a bikini with the younger crowd. Although their bodies screamed virgin - hard body territory, mine whispered same shape only softer. Amazingly, I felt sexy, but that is not the word I would have given it. I just reveled in the beauty of my lines and curves, and sex really had no part in it, but then again, it never did.

The day was glorious, cool temps and low humidity, a perfect September day. I had chosen to wear shorts that showed off the lingering tan while it still showed, and a flower print top that tied under my breasts, revealing a little of my midsection, but not too much. I liked the blouse because it seemed to make the B's look like C's. Ah, vanity and enough exhibitionism to catch a few glances sure does make a girl feel good about herself.

I met up with Marti for a bit of breakfast at the local café where they serve the best early morning fare in the area.

"So, how they hanging old girl!" was her greeting as she approached the table. "They wobbling too and fro yet?" She said with a mirth grin, and a rolling of her eyes.

"I will have you know that upon inspection this morning, they are firm and still point towards the ceiling." I said with a bit of levity. "Unlike some others I know who are a bit younger." I smiled

"Size and gravity are worse than age." She said with a slight shake of her shoulders that caused a bit of a wave to ripple back and forth across the front of her blouse.

"By the way, Happy Birthday. What is this, number 46?"

"Thanks a lot. And I thought you were my friend."

"I was and am, but you deserved that after that comment regarding my best asset."

Marti was every man's dream girl. She had a body that screamed sensuality and although she was not pretty in the classical sense, she had a way about her that naturally said "I'm fun." Her personal landscape included a body made for magazine covers as she had curves where curves should be and length where it accented properly.

Marti is a few years younger than me and far more forward. I guess that is why we have such a great friendship. We compliment like similar but vastly different spices. Although I am married, Marti never has. She says she has far too much fun being single. She jokes that one man could never satisfy her sexual appetite. We both laugh at that old line, as I am sure that cannot be true.

"So, what's Jon got planned for the big day? Dinner and an orgy?"

I immediately blushed a bit.

"What, the thought of an evening of indulgence embarrasses you? Come on, you gotta be thinking about a little hokey-pokey on your big day. You know, ...you put his right dick in, you put his right dick out, you put his right dick in and you pound it all about..." She sang.

"Marti, you can really be crude some times. " I said while blushing. " I hadn't given it much thought really, but then I rarely think of sex in advance of the moment anyway. Its not that important, but I guess if Jon is interested we can find the time."

"Huh? Find the time? You have got to be kidding me. If I had a guy like Jon waiting for me at home, I would be thinking about sex all the time. Well, in fact I do think about it all the time... I would wear the cock right off of the man."

"Come on Marti, no one thinks about it all the time, that is just something you read about in the romance novels. Get real."

"Really?"

"Really!"

" I beg to disagree." She said with more than a bit of confusion written on her face, "But let's move on to the work at hand; where do we shop this morning?"

And that is how the day began. It was a good beginning to a birthday; breakfast and shopping with your best friend. What I did not expect at that moment was that my secure, somewhat predictable life, where I felt fully in control was about to change forever.