This story is a work of fiction. All of the characters and events are fictional. All characters portrayed in this story are over eighteen years of age. This story portrays graphic, consensual lesbian sex and masturbation. If you are in an area where reading this is illegal or you are offended by any of this then stop reading now.
Special thanks to Vella_MS for her work as my editor.
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Watching the sunrise over the river while sipping my second cup of coffee had become my morning ritual soon after moving to the small country cottage. The peace and serenity never failed to calm my soul.
Mine was a soul that had needed an awful lot of calming over the last two months and so I took the opportunity whenever it was presented.
Two months? Had it really been that long? I wondered while glancing at the calendar pinned to the back of the door. Yes, it really had. Two months since that horrible, devastating night.
My thoughts involuntarily slipped back to that evening, when my life as I had known it, ended. It had been on that night that I was unpacking Jack's suitcase from another one of his business trips. While pulling out dirty clothes for the laundry I came across a skimpy women's thong.
At seeing the sexy underwear at first my heart leapt at thinking that they must be a surprise gift for me. Jack used to buy me things like that before I got pregnant and I hoped that this signaled a return to the way things had been before. Before he had gotten so cold and distant.
It had been sometime during the second trimester that he had started avoiding me, about the time when I really started to show. By the third trimester he wouldn't even get near me. Everything about the changes that were taking place in my body seemed to upset him. It had been hard but I had heard that pregnancy put some men off so I tried not to take it to heart, telling myself that it was only a temporary.
After little Katie was born I had thought that things would go back to the way they had been as my body started to return to normal. I had put on a few pounds during the pregnancy but there weren't many women who didn't. Maybe just a little bit wider in the hips and another inch or two around the middle but it looked as if all the long hours of exercise throughout the pregnancy had definitely paid off. Aside from some stretch marks around my pelvis, my body had recovered pretty well.
Actually there was one area where I hadn't returned completely to normal. I glanced down at the vast expanse of my new cleavage. By the end of the first trimester my breasts had swelled from a perky B cup to a full C. When Katie was finally born and my milk came in I filled out to double D.
Even after months of carrying them around the full heavy orbs still seemed strange to me. All my life I had small breasts. I had often gone around braless and not worried about it. Going without a bra, and a serious bra at that, was no longer an option. I was constantly reminded about their presence by their full weight when I turned fast or tried to run.
I had tried running once a few weeks ago but quickly found it was an uncomfortable experience now. Even the best jog bra I could find didn't seem to control the bouncing nearly enough and being filled with milk only added to the discomfort. I had resigned myself to the fact that I would have to put off running at least until Katie was done nursing in a few months, maybe even forever.
I had hoped that my new, bigger breasts would help to entice Jack back to my bed. When I had healed and started feeling up to it, I had gone shopping for clothes that would emphasize my curvaceous new shape. I got a lot of sexy, tight clothing and low cut blouses that revealed vast expanses of my newfound cleavage. To my dismay the bigger breasts seemed only to drive him farther away. Whenever he saw me nursing he would leave the room and several times when I changed in front of him in the bedroom he said something like, "Why don't you cover those things?"
The first time he had said it I had been stunned, not sure if I had heard right. I chose to ignore the comment thinking that I must have heard wrong or maybe ha had just had a bad day.
The next time he made a comment I knew I heard it correctly. A shock of rage boiled up in me and I inferred that maybe I could use them to get a man who had some use in the bedroom since he apparently wasn't up to it anymore.
He had exploded with a sudden screaming fury that I had never even seen before. It was a violent, screaming adult temper tantrum that was both repulsive and frightening. I was almost positive that he was going to beat me senseless or maybe even kill me but he only yelled and screamed for several minutes before storming out of the house.
He didn't come back for two days after that. I had thought he was never coming back and cried myself to sleep at night wondering what the hell had gone wrong with my life. When he finally did come home, he acted as if nothing had happened. He was just as cold and remote as he had been for the past months. I never mentioned the fight again, hoping with time that things would get back to normal.
I thought that finding the panties was finally a sign that things returning to normal. I looked them over, and held them up to my hips. The seemed a little small so I checked the tag, they were a size two. I wore a size four and Jack knew it. It was while looking at the tag that I noticed the smell. Holding the panties up to my nose I sniffed. The musky smell of womanly lust was unmistakable.
A thousand thoughts and emotions swirled through me as I stood there holding the sexy little red thong. When the shock wore off the one emotion that boiled to the top was rage. I felt my cheeks flush with a burning heat while my fingernails dug painfully into my palms. Years of being married, living together, sleeping together, months of carrying his child, months trying to work it out, waiting for him to work his issues out and he goes and does this? This went beyond cheating, it was a total betrayal of everything we had worked so hard for, a destruction of a life lived together and dreams of a happiness yet to be discovered.
At that moment I heard a footfall behind me. With a Herculean effort, I had held my rage in check and without turning asked in as calm a voice as I could manage, "What's her name?"
After a very long pause, "Kathy."
"How long?"
Another long pause from him before a reluctant, "Eight months."
I blew out in a long, calming breath before replying, "I'm going over Rachel's house. When I get back I want you and your stuff gone."
I turned and walked out without even looking at him. I calmly packed up Katie and went over my best friend Rachel's house. Once there I set Katie up in the portable crib, sat down a burst into tears. I cried onto Rachel's shoulder for hours that night while she did her best to comfort me. Eventually, I fell asleep on her couch.
When I finally returned to the house the next afternoon Jack and most of his cloths and essentials were gone. I noted with mild disgust that while he hadn't remembered to take his winter coat he did remember his golf clubs. I had wandered around the house for a while, noticing how different it now felt. It was a disorienting mixture of sadness, loneliness, anger and surprisingly, and a heady relief.
As the days passed anger and relief took over as the dominant emotions that filled me when I thought of Jack. I was pissed off at what he had put me through and relieved that it was all over. Now I could move on with my life.
All of that had been a little over two months ago and I was doing well moving on with my life. I had put in calls to some friends and gotten a job doing website maintenance that I could do from home. The salary was enough that I could hire a nanny to come over part time and help with watching Katie so I could get some work done. My friends and family stopped by constantly to check on me and help me out any way they could. They also took turns watching Katie so I could get some time by myself to go shopping or see friends.
As I sipped my coffee it occurred to me that I had never been happier. I smiled as I realized that Jack cheating on me had actually been a good thing. In fact, it had probably been the best thing that could have happened to me.
A noise on the porch startled me and I turned to look. Speaking of good things, I thought as my smile widened.
Slipping quietly to the door, I pictured who was on the porch, Fred, the milkman. He was young, tall, blond and very well built. He looked like a hunky lifeguard straight out of a cheesy teen beach movie. I had been shamelessly flirting with him for the last month or so, ever since that first time I had opened the door to ask for an extra half gallon of skim milk and he had flashed a devastating smile that made my knees weak.
I was immediately reminded that I hadn't had sex in damn close to a year. I had felt my nipples stiffen instantly and knew they were very visible through my thin nightgown. He had smiled all the wider and offered to bring the milk inside for me.
Embarrassed, I had quickly excused myself and ducked back into the house. For the next week I couldn't help but smile every time I looked in the refrigerator and saw the milk bottles.
Every Tuesday for the next three weeks I had greeted Fred at the door dressed only in a nightgown. Our flirting had gotten bolder as the weeks passed and last week he had hinted that he had time for a quick session before he resumed his rounds. I had become a little flustered at his insinuation, however vague and didn't take him up on it. But over the next week I had been able to think of little else.
I had long ago resorted to masturbating to fulfill my sexual needs but it just wasn't as satisfying for me as the real thing. That week I had masturbated almost daily thinking of the milkman and his smile. Just last night I had sat on my bathroom floor, seeking a release, if only temporary, for my lust. My fingers circling my clit and pushing inside me had sent me over the top in record time as cried out with a surging climax. After a few minutes I sat up and noticed that the front of my shirt was wet. One of the side effects of nursing that I wasn't so fond of was the tendency of my breasts leak if Katie didn't nurse often enough. I had also found they also tended to leak whenever I became aroused. I had to be careful and remember to put nursing pads in whenever I went out incase Katie wasn't hungry or I lost myself in a fantasy at the wrong time.
This morning as I lay awake in bed I had decided to see if Fred would really go as far as he hinted at or if it was just an act. Feeling devilishly naughty, I had put in a skimpy, black silk nightgown and a matching black silk thong and went downstairs to wait with my coffee.
Peeking through the blinds I couldn't see what he was doing, it was still to dark on the porch. Quietly opening the door I stood in the doorway and looked at the form bent over the milk box. It was very dark in that corner of the porch and the only thing visible was a vague shape of a person wearing the dusky green uniform shirt of the dairy.
Leaning against the door in what I hoped was a casual but provocative manner I said, "Hey there sexy. Can you bring that inside for me?"
There was a clink of bottles as the person stood up and turned. It wasn't Fred. It was a girl. She stepped closer and the light coming through the door fell across her. She was petite and looked to be in her twenties. She had a pretty face that was framed by jet black hair with a few bright pink highlights. It was pulled back in a short ponytail that poked through the back of a green, dairy issue baseball cap. She was also wearing the dairy uniform shirt unbuttoned most of the way, exposing a gray sports bra underneath. Low riding jeans and work boots completed her outfit.
