I married at 21 and have always enjoyed sex with my husband, but as we hit our forties it became much less frequent. To be frank I don't think either of us missed it particularly. When we make love it is still good, we just don't get the urges in the same way. I have never even thought about another relationship. I cannot explain how the situation I am writing about came to be.
As my kids grew up I tried various ways of keeping fit. Aerobics, step, Gym and jogging. I never really enjoyed any particularly, and was very pleased when Cally, one of my oldest friends and neighbours, suggested that we go swimming once a week.
We started going to our local pool on a Friday morning, after which we would generally shop and have a lunch out. The changing room at the pool has communal showers, and cubicles along one side. There is an area in the middle of the room where women can change in the open.
The first time we went I couldn't stop myself looking at Cally as we showered and comparing her body with mine. I am sure that she did the same, after all we have known each other for almost twenty years but had never been naked before each other.
She is a little heavier than I am, but we are both fairly trim for our late forties. Her boobs are quite big and she has large brown nipples.
She has more pubic hair than I do, but then mine is quite sparse. What did surprise me was that her buttocks had a fine down of dark hair over them and there was quite a lot of hair between her cheeks. After we had showered she went into a cubicle to change, which surprised me as we had got into our swim suits in the open area, but I didn't attach any importance to it. In following weeks this became our routine.
On our fourth or fifth visit I realised that I had forgotten my deodorant, and poked my head over Cally's door to ask to borrow hers. I was amazed to see that she was leaning back on the bench masturbating. She looked up in horror at me, and we both stammered apologies to each other.
When we were both dressed Cally turned to me and said "I think I need a drink." I knew how she felt, my knees were shaking. We agreed that two middle class middle aged ladies couldn't decently go to a pub at 11.45 in the morning, so we decided to return to my house.
We didn't talk about anything particular on the ten minute journey, just chattered about the weekend and our plans. I assumed that the episode would be forgotten and not referred to again. Once we were inside, we sat at the kitchen table with a glass of wine, Cally just looked at me and giggled. " Now you know my secret" she said. I said yes, and whilst I had been surprised I didn't have a problem with it. "Good luck to you, Girl" I said. The tension seemed to ease between us and we both relaxed.
Cally just wanted to talk about it, and told me that she had done it regularly since she was a teenager, but that in recent years it was more important to her than sex with Neil, her husband, or at least a damn sight more frequent, she laughed!
She asked me if I ever played with myself, and I heard myself answering that Paul and I sometimes did it in front of each other, which we found special and very tender, but that I hadn't done it by myself for years, since he used to travel on business early in our marriage. We both seemed to feel that there had been enough revelations for one day and, after another glass of wine Cally left.
