The Awakening Of Jessica Ch 01

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is a coincidence.

Thanks to ausfet.

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Jessica Stone was a teacher, and a good one. She was 35 years old and taught English at one of the leading state comprehensive schools in London. She had been there for twelve years and was now Head of Department with an office and her name on the door. This was good going, especially as her department had the best results in the school. In the last five years, five of her pupils had gone to Oxford and four to Cambridge.

She was responsible for GCSE and A level students and they loved her. She was a superb teacher; witty, understanding and she inspired them to love literature as she did.

She had been a bright and gifted child -- always near the top of the class, so it had been no surprise to anyone that she went to university, came out with a first and went straight into teaching. It was what she had set her heart on. She had always known what was right and she had always known what she wanted and she usually got it. Her siblings were well aware of that. She had set her sights on Robert Stone as soon as she met him at a university friend's house. His looks and charm immediately won her over and she could see he was going places.

Jessica Stone was bored. She had a handsome husband and three lovely kids. The boys were doing well at school now and little Amy was 'so precocious' -- that everybody loved her. Robert was a wonderful husband, steady, reliable, ambitious and a good provider. He still made her laugh and they had fun times together, especially when they went on holiday. He was a great father. She was lucky to have him.

Sometimes his work took him away to conferences and she wondered what he might get up to. What wife doesn't? But she had no reason to doubt his faithfulness. He was always randy when he got back and she took that as a sign that he still fancied her.

She had tried to tease him into making their love life a little more adventurous, but he was a meat and potatoes kind of man. He knew where to put his meat and the potatoes took care of themselves. He tried to please her, but what with long hours at work and early mornings, he often fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Jessica sometimes lay beside his snoring frame and quietly brought herself to orgasm while she imagined being ravished by Leonardo DiCaprio as Romeo, or Hugh Grant as the Prime Minister. What wife doesn't?

Jessica Stone was frustrated. She joked with her friends Beth and Emma in the staff room. What would they do if a sex robot came on the market? Would their husbands let them buy one? She had a Rampant Rabbit that Robert didn't know about, tucked away at the back of her lingerie drawer. She had bought it years ago at an Anne Summers party. It was a waste of money. What with the kids and the relentless daily routine, when did she have the time to use it? Her job was demanding and there was always work to mark and lessons to prepare for. At least she could look forward to the holidays.

Jessica Stone's problem was that sex with Robert always left her thinking that there should be more. She often waited for him to go to sleep before finishing herself off with her hand. This was silly, she knew, but she was embarrassed by the idea of trying to rub her clit when his cock was inside her. She didn't want to make him feel inadequate, or as if he was a poor lover. Men's egos were fragile. She wondered whether she had left it too long to try and fix this.

Jessica Stone was approaching middle age. She had been a looker. She still was, she supposed. She knew her nickname among her pupils was MILF. She had to ask another teacher what it meant and she had blushed when he told her. She had never strayed, but she had batted off a couple of approaches from colleagues on school trips.

Of course she could have a fling. Ben Wright in the Maths Department had left her in no doubt that he would like to get inside her knickers, but his wife Carole had just had a baby and she could never do that to her. These things always ended in tears all round. Jessica Stone was far too responsible to be that kind of woman.

Her stomach wasn't quite what it had been. Three pregnancies and a caesarean scar had seen to that, but she insisted on always having a good haircut, good clothes and she carried herself well. Her bum was still her best feature, she thought and she was beginning to see that having undersized breasts was an advantage. She could always bulk them up with a padded bra for a special occasion and she didn't have to worry about running for a bus or the effect gravity would have on them as she aged.

Jessica Stone was horny and she was idly scrolling through MumsNet when she came across a thread about an unfaithful husband. It had been started by a furious wife.

Apparently the furious wife's partner had phoned her up and asked her to check something in an email on his home laptop. She had opened up the account and while looking for the message, she had stumbled on another email from something called 'AdultWork'. The email had told her husband to log into his 'AdultWork' account, where he would find a message waiting for him. Naturally the wife had Googled 'AdultWork' and had discovered that it was a kind of Trip Adviser for sex.

Well, that was it. It looked like curtains for the poor husband. He would never be able to withstand the combined wrath of both his wife and the other MumsNet subscribers. Divorce lawyers were already rubbing their hands.

Jessica Stone was intrigued. She opened a private window in her browser and Googled 'AdultWork'. Robert had just gone up to bed and she had been finishing off some marking. She knew she would not be disturbed. She started reading the entries on the site. There were hundreds of women advertising services she could barely imagine. They were hot and flirty. They were toned. They had 34DD tits. They had ten out of ten field reports for giving satisfaction. They had filthy movies you could watch. They were kinkydirtybitches. And that was just the first page.

That was the thing with men. If the sex wasn't good enough at home, they could always arrange a discreet liaison with a lady of the night, as long as they didn't trip up like the MumsNet man. 'If only, if only', Jessica Stone thought. What if, just once, she could do that -- be like a man and grab some of what she needed.

Jessica Stone was aroused. A trickle of moisture was easing its way into her panties, making her squirm slightly. There was another world out there. She began to explore the site. She had always been open minded. What consenting adults chose to do was up to them. If this site was like Trip Adviser, how did you make a booking? Being blunt, how did you choose your prostitute? She found a search tab. She clicked. She learned that you can tick boxes to narrow the geographical area of your search, choose whether you want a male or a female and find out what kind of acts they like to perform.

A light bulb went off in Jessica Stone's head. What had she just read? You can choose a male or a female. You can choose a male. Women can buy sex - from a man.

Jessica Stone paused. She took a deep breath. Something primeval was stirring in her loins.

For the first time in her life, Jessica Stone began to think that she might be on a slippery slope that would take her to a place she had never dared to think about. She was a normal woman with normal desires. Some of her male sixth form students were hunky and positively delicious. She found their gauche charm and awkward smiles immensely attractive and they got her thinking thoughts she shouldn't, but as a professional, she was careful to maintain a formal relationship with them. Teachers who went astray with a pupil never worked again and their families were rent asunder.

Her mind wandered back to her early days in the profession. There was that boy who was so cute, she used to fantasise about him. What was his name? Gareth something? God, he was jailbait for a young teacher. It was a relief when he left.

Jessica Stone was intelligent. If she was going to do this, she was not going to screw up, like the MumsNet husband. She would need a secret email account for a start. She already used Gmail. Therefore, she would open an account under a false name with a different provider. It was getting late. She would set it up now and go back to AdultWork tomorrow to do more research. Ten minutes later her new hornymilf1982 email account was up and running.

Jessica Stone was tired and had to work tomorrow. She shut down her computer and made her way to bed. She tiptoed around the bedroom. Robert was snoring gently. She slipped into bed and took off her makeup with a tissue and some lavender skin lotion. She turned off her bedside light and snuggled down. Her hand moved south. She slipped two fingers between her lips. She was wet and ready. Her orgasm beckoned. Tonight she wasn't ravished by Leonardo DiCaprio. Tonight she enjoyed a thrilling encounter with a young man she had yet to meet. She knew he was waiting for her on AdultWork.

Jessica Stone was dreaming. A skilled tongue was teasing her clit. She looked down. It was a naked tousle haired youth. He caught her eye. She ruffled his hair and pulled his head towards her to increase the pressure. "Don't stop," she moaned. "Don't stop."

She felt a tap on her shoulder. She opened her eyes. It was Robert. "Here's your tea, darling," He said. "It's 6.30am. I'm off to Guildford -- quarterly board meeting. See you tonight." He kissed her forehead and was gone.

Jessica Stone was researching. It was July -- two weeks to go before the end of term -- time to get organised. The kids were in bed. Robert was watching Wimbledon highlights on television. AdultWork was open in her private browser window. She had set up an account and was saving the details of prospective male sex workers. Some of them featured photographs of impressive erections, but she tried not to let this distract her. She first decided to search within an area that was several miles from home, but easy to get to by public transport. She didn't want to run into anyone she knew.

When she did this, she quickly discovered that there were far fewer male sex workers than female ones. This was hardly surprising, she thought. Women had some catching up to do as buyers in this particular market. She also wondered how many clients a man could see in a day. She paused as she remembered the gang bang movie they had watched at Emma's hen night. That woman had literally taken on all comers and was still gagging for sex at the end. The men were merely walk on extras. Ten thrusts and they were spent. Truly women were the stronger sex. 'Steady on girl', she thought, 'that's a fantasy for another time'.

She tried to imagine Robert as a sex worker and grimaced. The thought was preposterous. He had only ever been able to get it up twice in one night and that was when they were young and in the throes of lust. She doubted whether he could even do that now. Perhaps a younger man with more testosterone might manage it three or four times a day? Did they have to take Viagra, she wondered?

So she had expanded her search to cover the whole of London. This gave her a satisfactory number of men to choose from. The process of reading their profiles and checking their (usually headless) photographs gave a new meaning to the concept of online shopping.

She found the 'field reports' riveting. Clients wrote in no uncertain terms about the qualities of the men they had enjoyed. 'Lovely cock', 'Goes on forever', 'Considerate, strong and great abs'. One comment: 'He could crack coconuts with his arse cheeks', had her laughing out loud. The one that said, 'Loves to be disciplined', stirred something deep inside her. 'Jessica Stone, what is happening to you?' she thought.

She slowly worked her way through the list, flagging the ones she thought were 'possibles' so that she could go back and revisit them later.

Eventually she had narrowed the field down to six names. She ran through them again. She checked the areas they were based in. Two were too far away. That left four. Decisions, decisions.

Robert had nodded off. The tennis roundup was ending. He stirred and woke and turned off the television.

"Time for bed, I think," he said. "What are you doing, dear?"

"Checking a database of male prostitutes," said Jessica Stone. "A girl has to have a hobby, you know."

Robert laughed. "That's a good one," he said. "I'll tell that to the lads in the office."

Jessica Stone was patient. She would look again tomorrow and make her final choice. Then she would book an appointment.

It was 9.00am. The day was fine. Term had ended. The boys were at scout camp. Amy was off to the zoo with her friend's family.

Jessica Stone had carefully shaved when she showered this morning, then she had applied moisturising skin lotion to her vulva and mons pubis, as well as the rest of her body.

She had picked LondonLover. Ten days earlier she had sent him an AdultWork message.

"Dear LondonLover,

Do you have a one-hour appointment on July 25th at 11.00am or noon? I am a new customer. I like your profile and feedback. I don't need anything too kinky but I like to dominate. Can you obey my orders? What is your address please?

Best regards,

HornyMilf1982"

When he responded this had been automatically flagged in an email to her hornymilf Outlook account. This was what had tripped up the MumsNet husband and this was why Jessica Stone had set up a secret email account. She logged back in to AdultWork to read his reply.

"Dear HornyMilf1982,

Thanks for your enquiry. 11.00am on the 25th is good for me. Please can you confirm through the AdultWork booking system. I am based between Angel and Old Street. Please text me from Angel tube station ten minutes before the agreed time and I will send you address details.

I am used to pleasing dominant women. I am confident that I can meet your requirements.

I am looking forward to meeting you.

LondonLover XX"

The message had sent a chill down her spine. She had taken the plunge. It was too late to go back now.

Jessica Stone was deciding what to wear. She had an hour. If she left at 10.00am she would be at Angel by 10.45. She flicked through the rail in the wardrobe. It was going to be a special day. She wanted to look her best, but she didn't want to stand out from the crowd. She chose the suit she often wore at parents' evenings. Dark grey jacket and skirt, cut just above the knee and a white scoop neck blouse -- plain and simple and probably similar to outfits worn by thousands of office workers in London. She would take her black Hermes bag, teamed with her black, three-inch heel, chunky pumps. This would give her some height, but the heels were manageable on public transport.

Next to her skin she would wear her new black lacy bra and panty set. She had gone to the trouble of getting measured for the bra. The cups were comfortable and supportive, giving her breasts a little more presence. The panties were high leg, revealing half her bum cheeks, but the crotch was wide and reassuring. The lace was pretty but not overdone. The final item was black stockings, instead of tights.

Jessica Stone had agonised over this. It shouldn't matter, she thought. She was the customer after all; she could wear whatever she liked. But that didn't seem right. She didn't just want an experience; she wanted a memory. She wanted to realise a fantasy in every detail. She wanted to be the ultimate femme fatale. She had hold-up stockings that didn't require suspenders or a garter belt, but she decided to go the whole hog. She would wear the garter belt and she would put her panties on last -- that way she could take them off with a flourish and maintain the look men lusted after.

She finished dressing. The strip of naked skin between tops of the stockings and the edge of her panties made her feel decadent and immoral. That was the point, she thought.

She was ready to meet her lover.

Jessica Stone was feeling eager and slightly nervous. At 10.45am precisely, she emerged from Angel tube station. She sent a text to LondonLover. She walked towards City Road. The phone pinged and the address arrived. She keyed it into her map app.

Ten minutes later she stood before the entrance of a modest block of flats, in a side street off City Road. She keyed in 412 and pressed the bell symbol. The door clicked and buzzed and she was inside. She walked towards the two sets of lift doors and pressed the up button. One set of doors opened instantly and she was inside pressing the button for fourth floor. As the lift rose, she checked herself in the mirrored wall. Everything was in place. Jessica Stone looked good.

The lift doors opened and she stepped out onto a carpeted corridor. She checked the numbers on the doors as she walked along. 410, 411 -- here she was -- 412. Before she could knock, the door opened and swung back. She stepped over the threshold. Behind the door was a handsome young man with tousled hair and a charming smile. He was wearing a T-shirt, cargo shorts and deck shoes. He closed the door.

Jessica Stone looked at the young man again. The young man looked back. It was not just any young man.

They both spoke at the same time: "Gareth Jones!" "Mrs Stone!"

"What are you doing here?" said Jessica Stone.

"That's what I was going to say," said Gareth Jones.

Jessica Stone was blindsided. Gareth Jones had been one of her first success stories. He was in the second sixth form cohort she had taught. He had gone to Durham University where he had studied politics and history. That was over ten years ago.

Gareth seized the moment. "Would you like to come through?" he said.

He led her to a spacious white bedroom, dominated by a large double bed. The white blinds were drawn but the room was light.

"Can I get you anything? A drink, perhaps?" he said.

"Yes please, a glass of water," said Jessica Stone.

"Sit down, I'll be right back," he said. She sat on the bed.

He returned and handed her the glass. She had recovered her composure and reordered her thoughts. She had always fancied Gareth Jones, but that was then and this was now.

"I never would have expected to see you here, Mrs Stone" said Gareth, "but now you are, do you want to stay? I won't force you but I will be pleased if you do."

"Please call me Jess," she said. "I would like to stay. I've been looking forward to today. How. .? Why . .?" she trailed off.

"It's a long story," he said. "I'll tell you later. I'd like to kiss you, but we should take care of business first."

"Of course," she said. She set down the glass, opened her Hermes bag and took out an envelope. She handed it to him. "I think you'll find it's all there."

"I'll take it next door," he said. Would you like a shower first? Would you like me to be naked? We can take it how you like."

"I'm OK thanks," said Jessica Stone. "I showered just before I left."

She paused.

Jessica Stone's mind was in overdrive. Yes, yes, yes. She would like this man to be naked. She would like to bite him all over. She would like to tousle his hair while he sucked on her clit. She would like to take his cock deep inside her and slide up and down it until he came like a train. She would like to suck his balls while he wanked over her face and tits. She would like to rub her groin against his leg until she exploded. Ten years of average sex had come to an end. Jessica Stone was going to get her man.

"And yes," she smiled, confidently. "I think I would like you to be naked first."

Gareth raised his eyebrows, smiled and walked out of the room. There was no denying it. Her panties were very damp indeed.