1. Making an exhibition of myself
My husband, Andrew, decided that we were to move to the country and he would commute. I loved the new house, it was much bigger and nicer. It meant I had to give up my job though. He was in favour of that too, though I missed the interaction and some feeling of worth. But it was nice in many ways not working and it felt much safer here.
I threw myself into redesigning and decorating. Very gradually I began to meet people too. The first was a woman down the same lane as that on which our house stood, Angela. I didn't see her often and, before she moved away, our friendship wasn't deep, but she did introduce me to a local women's group.
The first time I attended I sat quietly with Angela and watched and listened as everyone else chatted, ate a light lunch and drank. It wasn't amazingly interesting but there was a woman there who caught my attention. She was about 10 years older than me and, though not a classic beauty, certainly was beautiful in her own way. She was much taller than me, even sitting down, and had deep blue eyes and a dark bob, It was obvious, too, that although not everyone liked her, everyone listened to and took notice of her. She exuded a sense of intelligence and power that was compelling.
I found out her name was Jane.
The second time I was to attend the group Angela pulled out. Her mother was very ill and she had to go and look after her. Initially I decided not to go but on the day I changed my mind. I found myself sitting just opposite Jane and from the moment I sat down felt her eyes on me. Although her gaze was not aggressive, she even smiled, I felt that I had made some mistake or was sitting in someones place. I looked down not wanting to cause offence, though I was very aware of all that was said and most of that which wasn't.
At the end, as people were leaving and saying goodbyes and before I could leave unobtrusively, Jane came over and introduced herself.
"You were with Angela last time weren't you?" For a while I just stood there, gazing at her, until I couldn't hold her eyes anymore and dropped my eyes.
"Yes. My name is Jennifer. I'm new to the village, or quite new. Angela has had to look after her mother. I don't know anyone else." I felt her eyes on me and I felt I sounded a little pathetic. I would have dashed off if I hadn't felt held by her presence.
"Its nice to have such a pretty little thing as a new addition." I felt my face blush hotly. I wasn't used to compliments. "Next time, come early and sit next to me. I'll hold your hand."
In bed that night, as my husband snored beside me, I couldn't get her out of my mind. She had a large wedding ring on her hand though that was her only jewellery except topaz stud earrings. She obviously was a regular at the gym. She had long trouser clad legs, breasts a little larger than mine behind a brightly white pressed cotton blouse, long manicured fingers and a powerful gaze.
The next time I arrived early as I had been instructed and found she arrived just after me. We sat down together. My mouth was dry as I tried to spit the words for 'hello' out. I felt silly but she was pleased that I had come early and she did sit with me. Again, when everyone was there, I didn't say much, only answering direct questions about myself to others and asking of them. I could feel Jane's leg against mine though we didn't speak to each other after we sat down but I felt safer with her, what felt like, protective presence. I couldn't stop fussing over my hair and my face was aching smiling so much.
After the lunch Jane decided that we would go back to her place and have coffee. Her old farm house was large, and modern yet comfortable inside. Two border collies lay in the sun by the door and wagged their tails as the saw her. I was very impressed by the overall design of the house, the block colours and the relationship of attention seeking items and space.
We sat drinking delicious coffee in the kitchen. She turned her full attention on me now we were alone. She asked questions about me non stop, wanting to know where I was from, how I grew up and my present circumstances. She seemed caring and genuine and made me feel relatively important which was an unusual situation for me. I became more and more at ease, though I still couldn't keep eye contact with her as she seemed so strong and I felt she could read me. I found I wanted to please her.
After we had been talking for about an hour she asked me about my husband and I told her all I could. Eventually she asked, "Does he satisfy you?" I was quite shocked but after becoming used to answering so fully previously it just seemed to pop out.
"Well, he thinks he does. But not really. In fact not really at all." She laughed which made me laugh and any tension disappeared.
"Do you have anyone else who does?" My eyes widened.
"No. No... not at all."
Outside, as I was about to leave I asked her to visit me so I could return the favour. We agreed on an afternoon in a few days when she was free, it wasn't as though my diary commitments were a problem.
An oldish man appeared.
"Oh this is Tom. He helps me around the land. Tom, this is Jennifer." He nodded and I smiled.
"Francis Derwent wants me and the dogs to help him." He had a dour Yorkshire accent.
"No, thats not a problem." Jane replied. "Francis Derwent. Does he talk politics to you?"
"He tries, Ma'am."
We both laughed. Those three words seemed to sum up everything it was possible to know about Toms feelings about Francis Derwent, politics and Jane. It was obvious he didn't say much, but what he did was loaded. He looked at the dogs and they got up, looked at Jane and trotted off behind Tom.
"The Holdsworths, both help me. His wife, Beth, helps me in the house too."
"Does your husband help on the farm?" She looked off into the distance a moment.
"No. He died."
"Oh I am sorry." My face aflame.
"No need." She turned back to me. "Next time I would prefer it if you don't wear trousers or jeans. Wear a skirt or dress. You have beautiful legs. I saw them the first time and I don't want you hiding them again. Don't wear tights either. Wear stockings. Something that makes you feel ready to be naughty and available." She laughed and so did I and nodded to her as I did so feeling quite taken aback. She kissed my cheek and I was about to go when
That night I thought about her forcefulness and how it made me feel more capable of doing things. I knew I needed the strength of others often and she certainly had it in abundance. Did she really think I had beautiful legs? Hers would be far nicer than mine I was sure and much longer. And why did she want me to feel naughty? I knew I was a bit of a prude and not very adventurous. Maybe Jane wanted me to become more adventurous, even naughty. But what could she mean about being available? It sounded as though she meant sexually. Did she mean sexually naughty? And who with? Her? I shivered. My nipples were hard I realised. I wanted sex but Andrew was asleep and he would only get me half way there I knew. I would have to wait till the morning until he had gone. I tossed and turned for what seemed like hours until sleep finally came.
Jane arrived with a bottle of chilled wine exactly on time. I was nervous and a glass or two of wine would relax me I knew. She complimented me on my shirt dress and I felt really grateful. She wore a variation of her crisp blouse and trousers that she normally did. Feeling quite girly I took her into the kitchen and uncorked the bottle before taking it and Jane into the sitting room.
Her smile and general chit chat relaxed me too. Soon I could feel my heart returning to normal. I poured us both some wine and we sat sipping.
"You have a delightful way of keeping your eyes lowered but you must remember to look at me when you smile. You don't want to look sly do you?"
"Oh no. Sorry."
"Did you do the rest of what I asked?"
"Yes." Just getting the word out, then needing to continue to fill the silence. "I found an old suspender belt and stockings I had never worn. I thought that might be 'naughty' enough. Is that all right?" Words gushing out. Cheeks red. Wanting her to be pleased. I had worried about what to wear for days. I had spent hours on my make up and worrying about it before that.
"Good. And do you feel naughty and available?"
"Yes." My eyes on my knees, too embarrassed to look up.
"Show me." My eyes jerked up to her in shock before returning to my knees. "I told you I wanted to see your beautiful legs. We can do both at the same time. Stand up." She was so self assured and I felt so lacking. She overawed me. Her confidence and the expectation that I would do as she said. She was telling me what to do, I knew that, but she was smiling and it didn't feel as if she was bullying me. But she was telling me what to do. I stood up. I was virtually standing right in front of her. I felt my breathing was rapid, my bra tight. The skirt of my dress was above my knees, my hands grasping each other nervously in front of me. I couldn't believe what I was being asked to do but somehow Jane's authority made it seem almost normal.
"Good girl. Now do as I said. You want to do as you are told and please me don't you?"
"Yes." Whispered. For some reason she knew I did.
My hands unclasped awkwardly and reached down for the hem. I lifted it. I could just see the tops of my stockings.
"That's good. It's easy isn't it? Now higher. All the way up."
Not knowing how I managed it I pulled my dress up to my waist. I felt so exposed. The full length of my legs on view, the tarty looking suspender belt, the new expensive stockings, the sky blue silk knickers that clasped my mound and hopefully did not show I was damp down there. I could feel the slight cool above my stockings, I could feel her looking at me. I could feel her eyes on me like a soft caress. I didn't know why but I wanted desperately for her to like my legs, like what she saw. I was made to turn around, making sure my dress was still high at the back too. Then back as I was. She seemed to look at me for ages.
"That was a good girl. You have delightful legs. You'll show me again when I want to see them, won't you?" I nodded in a mixture of humiliation and pride at her compliments. "Now you can drop your skirts and sit with me again. Take another drink."
Gratefully I dropped my skirts and sat down. I took a drink and gulped too much, reducing myself to coughing, feeling like a little girl.
"Now I was thinking of what you said about your husband. About him not satisfying you, nor was anyone else. So I take it you need to masturbate a lot? How often do you do it and how?"
I stared. It was so personal. It was humiliating. But I had just done what she told me. I hadn't much of a choice but I had accepted it, she hadn't forced me. It seemed silly to question it anymore. I had accepted showing my legs, accepted that she could tell me what to do. I'd even accepted wearing what she had said earlier. It just all seemed to be what I had to do. I was sitting down now, covered up so it was easier, only one thing to do at a time now, only answer her questions.
I knew my face was burning but I could cope with that. I had never even admitted masturbating to anyone in my life. Now I had to not only admit it but discuss it. I couldn't let my eyes go near her face.
"Oh not often," I said evasively but she sat there waiting. "About once a day." My voice was breaking, my face radiating. I couldn't admit to more.
"And do you use anything? Vibe or anything?"
