My name is Elizabeth, Lizzie to most people. I am 42 years old and live in a lovely part of England, close to the border with Wales. I am fortunate that I can now spend as much time as I like working as an artist and have been quite successful over the years.
My husband, Chris and I came to live on Greengage Lane over 20 years ago, not long after we got married. We were a bit of a rarity as most of the other residents in this well to do area were much older than us, mainly retired, whereas Chris was building a very successful property development business and our house, in need of some modernisation was a bit of a steal. Chris obviously did most of the work in-house to keep costs down and we ended up with something that is now worth a considerable amount of money. We have had 2 children there, both of them currently away at university and life had been kind to us, if a little mundane at times. Just over a year ago the next house down the lane was sold and I was surprised when it was bought by a young (well about 10 years younger than me), very attractive, single woman called Ellie. Ellie and I soon became friends, popping into each others houses for coffee, tea or wine, depending on the time of day. Ellie had told me early on that she was a writer, specialising in technical books for electronics companies and that she was openly gay but had not had a partner for some time.
Our relationship started to change just a couple of months ago, Ellie popped in to see me for a glass of wine, carrying a large bag which appeared to have a few books in it.
"I have a confession and a favour to ask," she said.
"Intriguing, tell me more," I said.
"Well, when I told you that I wrote technical books, I wasn't being entirely honest," she said. "I do write some technical stuff, but my main income comes from fiction which I write under another name."
"Ah, I did wonder how technical books could so lucrative for you to afford to buy a house here," I said. "So, what name do you use?"
Instead of answering, she removed a couple of hard back books from the bag, they were written by Jo Swinley, a writer of mystery thrillers.
"Oh my God, you're Jo Swinley?" I manged to say. Spluttering into my wine.
"Guilty as charged," she replied, "I try to keep my identity secret, I am sorry that I never told you sooner."
"it's not a problem," I said, "I am just glad that you feel comfortable enough to tell me now. So, what's the favour?"
"Well, if you are familiar with my books you may have noticed that there isn't a picture of me alongside the potted history and my publisher is getting pushy about having one."
"You are so gorgeous looking, I can understand why they want an image to boost you, not that you need it given how successful your books have been."
"But the problem is, I don't like being photographed, never have. So, I was wondering, would you paint my portrait and they could use that?"
"I mainly do landscapes these days but I am trained in portraiture, so I would be happy to have a go for you," I said
"I will pay you for the work at the going rate," said Ellie.
"Let's see how it turns out first," I told her, "then we can discuss whether it is worth anything or needs consigning to the bonfire! Right, if I'm going to do this, I will need you for a preliminary sitting, are you free next week at all?"
"I can come over anytime., just let me know when is good for you."
"OK, sorted, now, more wine, then we can talk about style?"
The following week, Ellie appeared at my studio door, wearing the dark red blouse that I felt would contrast so well with her raven black hair.
"Ready?" I asked.
"As I will ever be," she replied, nervously.
"Don't worry," I laughed, "I'll be gentle with you. Today is about me doing some sketches whilst you relax and enjoy the experience. But, I will need to take a few photos for later reference, is that OK?"
"OK, so long as you don't show them to anyone else."
"Strictly professional use," I assured her.
We spent the next 2 hours, chatting like the friends that we were as I busied myself sketching and photographing her. When I was done, I told her that I would do some preparatory work and then we could decide on how then finished item would look. As it turned out, she proved to be an inspirational model and 2 weeks later I called her and asked if I could pop over as I had something to show her. 5 minutes later, I was in her kitchen with a portfolio case in one hand and a portable easel in the other. I set the easel up and put the still covered picture on it.
"I want to show you what I have done," I said, "to see if you like it."
I unveiled the picture, closely watching her reaction. She gasped as the picture was revealed and a small tear leaked from her eye.
"O God, Lizzie, that is amazing, you have really captured me. I absolutely love it, thank you." With that, she gave me a huge hug and kissed the side of my face. I was surprised by the intensity and heat of the embrace and I could feel her hard nipples pressing into my own breasts.
"I am so pleased that you like it," I said, "will your publisher?"
"They will," she confirmed, "they thought it was a great idea, allowing me to keep a degree of anonymity and mystery." She kissed me again but my head had turned slightly, so this time it landed square on my lips. "Oops, sorry about that," she giggled.
"No problem," I said blushing deeply, feeling my own nipples harden a bit and a faint tingle develop in my pussy. "Accidents happen, just a bit of mis-timing. Well, I had better let you get on, Chris will be home soon and we are going away for the weekend, some posh hotel in Bristol."
I realized that I was babbling and didn't know why.
"Have a lovely time," said Ellie, kissing my cheek, "see you next week."
Our weekend away had been planned for sometime and I had packed for all eventualities as Chris wanted to look at some potential properties and we would be dining out and going to the theatre. Chris was the only person that I had ever kissed or had sex with (excluding the accidental kiss with Ellie), our sex life had become, not to put too fine a point on it, dull. Sex for Chris consisted of a snog, a quick feel of my pussy to make sure that I was wet and then penetrate me and fuck away until he climaxed. I do sometimes suck his cock and I have let him come in my mouth, swallowing dutifully, but he has an aversion to going down on me so I am frequently left frustrated and have to turn to my battery operated friend to have an orgasm. Tonight, I had prepared myself well, trimming my pubic hair into a neat triangle and wearing a set of very sexy lingerie that I had purchased specially. When we got back to our room I got Chris to sit on the bed and slowly removed my dress in front of him, I could tell by the bulge in his trousers that I was having the desired effect and I got on my hands and knees, undid his trousers and pulled out his cock, licking my way along the shaft and taking the head into my mouth, sucking gently as I slid up and down his length.
"Oh fuck Lizzie that is good," he said.
I released him from my mouth before he got too close to shooting and lay down on the bed next to him, parting my legs as far as they would go. "My turn?" I enquired softly, but he clearly wasn't listening. In a flash he got out of the rest of his clothes, pulled my knickers to one side and thrust himself into me, causing me to gasp at the ferocity of his penetration. He humped away for about 3 minutes before letting out a groan and I felt the familiar sensation of his semen filling my pussy. Once again, I was left frustrated and I hadn't brought my "friend" with me! As Chris lay beside me, already snoring, I discarded my underwear, climbed into bed and from nowhere a thought entered my head, "I bet Ellie wouldn't leave her lover frustrated." I was stunned at the idea, how could I think such thoughts about my friend? I am straight, I am married yet I am thinking of her in a sexual way. My hand slowly drifted towards my crotch and I felt for my clitoris, gently stroking it. I could feel my heat rising and added a finger into my vagina whilst I strummed away. As my orgasm hit me, I murmured, "Oh Ellie". Fortunately, Chris was out for the count and didn't hear me.
The next day involved looking at more properties, with Chris deciding which ones he wanted to start negotiations on whilst I went and did a bit of shopping. We ate out in town and it was fairly late by the time we got back to our hotel. As I removed my clothes Chris said "no sexy underwear tonight? That's a shame."
"Well," I replied, "the lovely lace pair of knickers that I had on last night ended up soaking up your cum, so I was hardly going to be able to wear them again, was I?"
He looked suitably abashed but watched me closely as I removed my much plainer cotton underwear. I quickly got under the duvet and Chris stripped off and climbed into bed with me, already sporting a semi-erection and I was extremely surprised when, after sucking on my nipples for a few moments started tracing his tongue down my stomach towards my pubes. "Oh my God!" I thought, he is actually going to go down on me, finally! He worked his tongue around my bush whilst massaging the lips of my pussy with his fingers, making me extremely wet and receptive. His tongue traced down towards my slit as I spread my legs wide, willing him to eat me, but after a quick lick downwards to my vagina and then back up to my clitoris, he pulled away from me and positioned his cock where I really wanted his tongue to be, and started to fuck me rapidly, resulting in another quick orgasm for him and more frustration for me.
He was soon snoring softly, so I returned to my fantasy of the previous night and fingered myself to an orgasm, all the time wondering what I had unleashed in myself, was I gay? Was I Bi? I didn't know.
A couple of nights later, Chris was out for the evening at some business group get together (Boring!), I was just about to settle down and watch TV when there was a knock at the door. It was Ellie, looking rather disturbed, if not frightened.
"What's up Ellie?" I asked, ushering her into the house.
"I heard some really loud noises outside in the garden and I cannot see what is causing it. It must be the author in me imagining veil about to befall me but I am too scared to investigate on my own, would you mind coming with me?"
"Not all, we'll soon have you sorted out," I said.
We went around to the back of her house, me carrying a very powerful torch to discover a fox and a vixen in mid-copulation, startled by the brightness of the torch beam but unable to separate from one another. I turned off the torch and we both fell into a fit of the giggles.