Ann's Awaening

Ann had been married five years. Not long, but long enough for it all to have become a bit routine, especially as she suspected Trevor of having a little bit on the side. The worst of it was, her heart's desire couldn't be realised – she had been told she could never have children, and Trevor didn't want to adopt one, so her life was bleak, to say the least of it. Her mother didn't help, telling her all the time to 'snap out of it,' and enjoy what she had, that sort of thing.

The one thing that stopped Ann from going insane was her job. She got to meet people there, and had friends at the office who she could count on.

'Look at you,' said her unmarried friend Tina one lunchtime in the office canteen, 'what are you? Twenty-eight, twenty nine?'

'Twenty-nine,' said Ann, 'why?'

'You mope around like the world's coming to an end. You've got a gorgeous body, face isn't bad either, and what do you do with it?'

'Tina, I'm a married woman,' she looked at her friend, and then laughed, 'but you're right, I do feel sorry for myself, and I know I shouldn't.'

'Look, Ann, tell you what,' said Tina, 'talk to that husband of yours, and tell him you're going to have a girls' night out, at least once a week – he won't mind, in fact it'll free him up to do what

he

wants now and again – as if he doesn't already!' The last bit she added with a meaningful look on her pretty face.

At supper the next evening Ann broached the subject to Trevor, who scarcely bothered to look up from the sports pages, 'Oh yes, dear,' he said, 'no problem.'

Thus released, Ann went upstairs, quietly stripped off and took a look at herself in the mirror, trying to check out the veracity off her friend's observations. It was true, her body was still firm, and she actually enjoyed looking at herself. She was narrow-waisted with long, slender legs and a nice rounded bum. She had never liked her breasts, thinking them too small, but they were still firm, with large dark aureola and nipples which hardened instantly to her touch. Slipping on a robe, she looked critically at her face, thinking that she would soon be seeing a few premature wrinkles, but she had a nice smile, and she resolved to do something about her black hair, which had grown a bit uneven. Next morning she made a lunchtime appointment with the beauty salon, and had the full treatment. When she got back to the office, Tina took one look at the finished job and knew that she had had a word with Trevor. Her hair glowed and was beautifully layered, her nails were suddenly half-an-inch longer than they had ever been, and something had happened to her eyelashes. The men in the office kept doing double-takes for the rest of the day.

Tina told her she would come and collect her in her car the following night, if that was OK, and she nodded her assent. 'But what shall I wear?' she asked.

'Not much,' said Tina, enigmatically, but aside from the fact that she was taking her to somewhere called the Silk Traders' Club, she would say no more.

Ann could hardly wait for the next evening to come around, and tried on twenty outfits before selecting something for the outing. She reasoned that any club or disco would be warm, so that she would wear, as Tina suggested, not very much. After rejecting a number of things, she plumped for a cotton sundress she had bought the previous summer in Ibiza. It was halter-necked, which meant she could wear no bra with it, but her firm breasts didn't really need support anyway. The dress was mid-thigh length, so all she wore under it were a pair of white silk panties. She thought a pair of high-heeled sandals completed her ensemble nicely, but when she went downstairs as she heard Tina's car draw up, Trevor was standing by the door.

'You going out like that?' he asked.

'Yes, why?' she replied defiantly.

'Catch your death of cold,' was all he said, and closed the door behind her.

Up yours too, she thought, as she got into Tina's car.

When they arrived at the club, in the better end of town, there were a lot of very high-value cars parked there, and a uniformed doorman greeted Tina like an old friend. Serious-looking bouncers were on duty, and some even more serious-looking money was entering as they did.

When they got into the cloakroom, and checked in their jackets, Ann saw that Tina was dressed in a silk miniskirt and a fishnet blouse, with no bra, so that her breasts could be clearly seen, their tips actually poking through the mesh of the garment.

'My God!' exclaimed Ann, 'you said not to wear much, but......wow!'

'It's that sort of place,' said Tina, 'you'll see.'

When they got into the big ballroom, Ann saw what her friend meant. Mainly young women were dancing, virtually all of them in extremely revealing outfits – everywhere there were very short skirts, transparent tops, backless dresses, skin-tight catsuits, dresses with cut-outs in various places – it was clearly a place to compete with all the other girls. And the 'prizes' were some very well-heeled-looking men – and good-looking buggers too, as I remarked to my friend.

They sat at the bar and ordered drinks, and were soon asked to dance, by a couple of hunks. Ann's held her close, and didn't seem at all shy in helping himself to a liberal feel of her bum, but then he seemed to lose interest, and, when the music changed, thanked her politely and returned her to her bar-stool. Tina stood nearby, still chatting to the man she had danced with, and they were exchanging cards. When Tina put his card in her purse, and climbed onto her stool, she gave Ann a brief glimpse that startled her as if she had struck her. She was not only naked under her skirt, but clean-shaven too.

'Hey, you forgot your underwear,' she said to her friend.

'You better believe it,' said Tina, 'the guys here like that kind of thing. There's something you should know, Ann. This club is known as the top exhibitionists' spot in the North. I brought you here to show you what I like – I'm honest about it. Not everybody here joins in, but it can get wild later on.'

'I'm surprised the police let it carry on,' said Ann.

'Oh, the bouncers don't let anything get too obvious, and besides, there's a lot of money around, as you can see,' replied Tina.

Ann sat taking in what she had been told, and decided she liked the atmosphere – it might even be just what she had been missing, but she felt frumpy in her cotton sundress, and said so to her friend.

'Just go take your panties off – you'd be surprised how much better you'll feel.'

'I....I couldn't.' She had never gone anywhere without them in her adult life.

'Of course you can.'

She slid off her stool, went quickly off to the Ladies and slipped her little silk panties into her purse before she had time to change her mind. On the way back, she was sure everyone was looking at her, and had to check that her skirt covered her thighs decorously when she sat down.

But Tina had other ideas, and quickly hooked up the hem while nobody was looking in their direction. She said, 'Christ, it's like the fucking Matto Grosso up there. You'll have to take a razor to that lot, girl, or nobody will be able to find their way through.'

'You're so fucking crude,' laughed Ann, but Tina's point was made – she just didn't know how to get around to the subject with her husband.

Ann was more a spectator than anything for the rest of the evening, but did get asked for a couple of dances, one of them a fast one, when she was in mortal dread of whirling around so fast that her skirt rose up, revealing her hairy quim. She suspected that Tina could easily have gone off with at least one of her partners during the dancing, but out of respect for her friend, they simply exchanged telephone numbers, and the two girls left together at about one o'clock.

'Well,' asked Tina, as she dropped Ann off at home, ' are we on again, or what?'

'Sure,' said Ann, 'but only if you'll come shopping with me on Saturday.'

'OK, it's a deal,' she agreed, grinning.

Trevor was already in bed, snoring peacefully, when Ann got in, and she was relieved about that. She lay awake for a time, thinking that more than the odd evening was about to change for her. The club, and her friend's revelation, had opened up a new and exciting range of possibilities to her – probably pointed out to her what her true inclinations might be.

Trevor always went to work first in the morning, and Ann took a good half hour longer to get ready. Next morning, she spent an age in front of the mirror, then took the scissors to her pubic thatch, trimming it down to a neat little patch. 'That can go later,' she thought to herself, then started going through her clothes, tut-tutting to herself all the time. She really didn't have anything that fitted how she now wanted to see herself - more importantly, how she wanted to

display

herself. She managed to find a half-bra that she had bought to go under something or other some time ago, and cinching it on, discovered that she could persuade her nipples to peep out just above the fabric. Under a thin silk blouse, this might be just the thing for the office. A pleated plaid miniskirt went well with it, coming down to mid-thigh, and she just wondered if she dared go without panties all day at the office. She rehearsed situations which might occur – taking dictation, sitting in on meetings and so forth, and decided to give it a go. She felt really good when she put on a pair of stilettos and went out to catch the bus, drawing more than a few glances on her journey to the office.

Tina noticed immediately the change in her friend, and remarked upon it: 'I hope I haven't fucked with your life, Ann?'

'Tina, if you have, it was because it needed fucking with, darling. I feel reborn.'

Saturday came, and Trevor seemed completely without interest when Ann announced she was going shopping. Not for the first time, she wondered if he had another woman.

She met Tina in town – parking being nigh-impossible – and they set about their spree. Ann had already decided to throw out more than half her clothes, and now set about punishing her credit cards in a serious way. The first underwear she bought took the form of two cruel-looking corsets, which Tina approved so much that she bought one too. They were harshly whale-boned, to cinch the waist in tightly, and incorporated a push up bra, which would leave the nipples free. At the hem, they left the buttocks bare, and had long garter-straps. Then she bought two skimpy satin garter-belts and several pairs of stockings to go with them. She pondered over open-crotch panties and tights, but Tina thought they were a bit passé.

Next she turned her attention to dresses and skirts, and chose several which had the two girls giggling in the changing booths. Ann had always looked elegant in evening wear, and was sensational in a backless grey silk dress, which finally zapped her credit limit on one of her cards. It left enough on one of the others for a pair of shoes, she said.

'But you've already got lots of nice shoes,' said Tina, 'I've seen them. Come on, I've got a better idea.'

'Where are we going now?' asked Ann, 'my feet are killing me.'

'It's not your feet you've got to worry about,' said Tina, and steered her up a dingy back street.

'TATTOOS AND PIERCING' said the handwritten sign above the window.

'Oh no, you don't,' said Ann.

'I will if you will,' said Tina.

'But where?' asked Ann, rolling her eyes.

'Where do you think? Come on.'

Before she could protest further, Tina had dragged her into the shop, where a much-pierced young woman with orange hair was reading a magazine.

'Reluctant, is she?' said the girl, 'well nobody's going to force you, dear.'

She drew back a curtain, and a young guy appeared, dressed in a white lab-coat.

'You're alright, everything's properly sterilised, you know,' he said, 'what is it you want, girls, nipple rings, tongue, navel, clit hood, labia?'

Ann was rendered speechless, but Tina calmly said, 'Clit hood for now – and could I have a look at some rings?'

Wide-eyed, Anne watched as Tina chose a silver ring about a centimetre in diameter, then casually got up on to a chair such as she had so recently sat upon at the hospital, with stirrups for her legs.

The guy masked what he was doing with his body, but he had Orange-hair fetch him a tray of instruments, then Ann heard her friend call out very briefly, 'Oh!' and he turned away from her, saying, 'there, done! No sex for a couple of days, perhaps.'

Orange-hair turned to Ann, 'You too, dear?'

Ann was being swept along now, and wasn't sure she liked it. 'I....I don't know.' She looked a question at Tina, 'Did it hurt?'

'Only for a moment – quite exciting really,' said Tina.

'OK then,' she heard herself say, thinking, 'what the fuck will Trevor say?' then 'who gives a flying fuck?'

She got up on the chair, and the young guy, who was quite dishy really, said, ' Same ring?'

'Why not,' she said, and he confirmed it to Orange hair. She returned with the tray, at which Ann tried not to look. It was bad enough sitting with your legs apart, no panties on, in front of a complete stranger, who is going to mess with your pussy. She felt his touch as he lifted her clitoris hood, and inspected it closely, his face close enough to have licked her, and she found herself getting wet in spite of the fear she felt. Then she felt him again, touching her, his fingers surprisingly gentle, then the new sensation, the sharp, hard jab of cold metal as her flesh was penetrated, and she heard herself cry out involuntarily. It wasn't entirely in pain.

'There, done,' he said, and she looked down to see that she was now sporting a lovely little silver ring at the top of her pussy, like a sentinel.

She paid for them both, and they left in silence.

'Phew,' said Ann, when they got outside, 'I damn near came there, and now I'm sore, but I suppose it'll pass.'

'They say so, yes,' agreed Tina.

Ann spent the rest of the way home wondering what she was going to say to Trevor, but he was still at the football when she got home, and went straight out for a drink with some mates from work afterwards. She sat and pondered on their marriage. Sex had not only become routine and unexciting, it had become very infrequent in the last year, and she just wondered if it were her fault.

'No sex for a few days,' the man had said, but there were ways and means, and Trevor used to love a good blow job. She resolved to try something, and went up to the bathroom, stripped off and had a long hot shower. Then she carefully lathered the remains of her pubic hair, and very carefully took off every last vestige of it, inspecting herself from every possible angle. She thought it looked lovely, and again admired her new silver ring, lewdly dangling there at the very peak of her pussy.

She brushed out her hair to a silken sheen, and hung a heavy silver chain around her narrow waist, the slipped into a totally transparent long black nightdress. She stepped into a pair of stiletto-heeled mules, and then went downstairs, lit candles, put a bottle of champagne on ice. She put on some music and waited for her husband to come home.

She knew she wouldn't have long to wait, as he was always home for 'Match of the Day.' Her anticipation heightened when she heard his car drive into the garage, and more so as she heard him come through the kitchen. Then he clattered into the room, followed by two mates. They were all clearly half-pissed.

'What's up love? You not feeling well? Any beer in the fucking house, is there? Gary, have a shufti in the fridge. Jason, put the telly on, we're missing the bleeding match.'

Ann ran up the stairs and shut herself in the bedroom.

For the first time, she began to wonder whether their marriage had a future, and, if not, where did that leave her? She locked the bedroom door, not caring what Trevor did that night – or any other, at that moment – and went to bed.

Next day, Sunday, while Trevor was still sleeping it off, she picked up the car-keys from the place he always left them, on the kitchen table, and drove the short distance to Tina's, where she immediately broke down in tears and blurted out the whole story to her friend. Tina was sympathetic, as ever, and held her as her sobs died away, then suggested they go for a quiet lunch in the country.

The rest of the day passed quietly enough, and Ann kept her mobile switched off. She didn't want any rows with Trevor, at least not yet.

Hardly a word had passed between Ann and Trevor when their paths crossed the night before, but he managed to say good morning to her on the Monday, and she prepared to start another week's work. She felt strangely excited by what she thought of as her rebirth, and getting on the bus in a new dress, a simple button-through silky one, with the hem just above knee-height, she felt extremely sexy and desirable. The sensation of the silky material against her naked mound was making her juices start to flow, and she so sensed that her nipples were hardening, that she couldn't resist a downward glance, to see if they were visible, poking at her dress. Before the bus reached her stop, she even worried a little that she would be in danger of having a damp patch on the seat of her dress, if she went on like this.

At the office, she felt herself the centre of attention for much of the day, and the boss wanted her to take dictation several times more than seemed normal – or was it her imagination? During the afternoon, she thought she would try going a little step further, and instantly started to tremble with nerves at the idea. Her boss, the son of the Managing Director, whose name was Justin Price, called her in again, for his regular afternoon session. He normally stood by the window of his palatial office, whilst she sat in a leather armchair and took shorthand.

She knocked and went in, and there he was, smiling, stood, as ever, looking out at the traffic far below. He turned to her, as she sat down, 'Hello, Ann,' he said, 'not a lot today, just a couple of quick letters to the boring bastards we have to deal with, eh?'

He wasn't normally this chatty, and it made her relax, as she had determined to do. Her nerves disappeared, and she smiled in what she hoped was a mildly sexy manner, and wriggled back a little in the luxury of the soft leather, letting her skirt ride up her long legs, to the lace-tops of the white hold-up stockings she wore.

He started the letter, and she crossed her legs as he did so, noting that his eyes were firmly on her shapely knees. She was really enjoying this, and knew the effect it was having, when his dictation faltered, and he said, 'No, I didn't mean that at all – let's begin that one again, shall we?'

She dropped her pencil off the arm of the chair, and leaned right over to pick it up. The action momentarily exposed a little of her upper thigh, above the stockings. Justin Price was almost speechless for a moment, but somehow got through his dictation session.

The next day, Ann went with Tina at lunchtime to a shoe shop, where Tina was interested in buying a pair of boots. Tina hung around waiting for a good-looking male assistant, and finally managed to catch the eye of a lad, who must have been a student, with long blond hair and deep blue eyes. The girls sat together on a bench while the boy went off, and eventually came back with a pair of spike-heeled boots.

'Sexy,' he said.

'Cheeky,' said Tina, offering her his foot as he knelt in front of her.

He eased off her shoe, and put on the soft leather boot, zipping it up to her knee, then smoothing it up her leg with his hand, obviously enjoying the feel of her slim leg. She responded, by first glancing around her to see that nobody was close by but me, then surreptitiously hitching up her miniskirt and parting her legs just enough so that he was looking right at her naked, shaven pussy.