I can't explain these thoughts and feelings and fantasies that have overcome me in recent weeks. I am such an average, typical and normal woman. A wife. A mom. A career. So happily satisfied with my life and who I am, yet these very new, strange, erotic and yes, very exciting thoughts that seem to have emerged from a place I don't know. They play and dance in my head most of my day, leaving me only momentarily when I am completely engrossed in my work or with my children. Even when I'm with my husband, the thoughts are there, ever present, always taking me to a place where I don't know if can or ever will go. Still, no matter how I try to tell myself that these pictures in my head and these desires in my heart are somehow wrong, they don't leave.
I turned 40 last month and maybe that's where this is all coming from. For much of my life, I have not been particularly fond of my looks, though never really ashamed of them either. My dark blonde hair carries a few streaks of gray now. I run regularly so I stay reasonably thin, but my skin is not quite as firm as it was when I married at 25. My small breasts, which only required a bra for certain outfits before, have softened to where I really don't need a bra at all, no matter what I'm wearing. But looking at myself at 40, and comparing what I see and feel to so many other wives and mothers out there, I'm slowly realizing that I do have something to be proud of. And maybe, because I'm finally finding some satisfaction in my own appearance, I find myself noticing the appearance of others, particularly those I am close to and in contact with nearly every day.
I've known Kelly for about four years. She and her husband and daughter are good friends of our family. Our daughters were born within two months of each other a couple years ago. Kelly had a bit of trouble losing that extra weight we all inevitably gain during pregnancy. About a year after the kids were born, she came to me needing motivation to start exercising to lose those last few pounds. That was when we started running together two or three times a week right after work.
At first, it was only about running together, but with time we developed an even closer friendship. Between the heavy breathing that comes with running in the high desert heat, we talked about our marriages, our kids, and our friends. On a few occasions, we even discussed our sex lives. Hers was so much more interesting than my own since she had slept with several men prior to marrying Dan. Though I'd messed around a little with a couple of boyfriends before marrying, I married the first man I ever made love to. Though I was not jealous of her, the stories she shared of how different men could do different things in different ways for her fascinated me. Jay was a good enough lover, but I sometimes longed to know what the touch of another person could do to me. She is still the only person who knows the intimate details of my sex life, and a couple of my fantasies, besides of course my husband.
It was several weeks ago when I first became aware of these new feelings within me. Kelly and I had gone for a run and returned to her house. Our husbands and kids were going to meet us at the local park later for a picnic so we'd planned to shower at her place before heading into town. She handed me a cold beer as I headed down the hallway to her shower. I closed the door, stripped, started the water, and stepped in. I kept the water lukewarm, just barely above cool, since I was still hot from the run. Physically tired and with the sudden rush of the alcohol working its way into my moisture depleted body, I turned toward the shower head and closed my eyes. I relished in this brief moment of relaxation, letting the soapy water glide through my hair and down my neck, criss-crossing my chest through what little cleavage I have to offer, following the slight curves of my hips, finally slipping through the soft mat of blonde pubic hair between my legs on its inevitable path to the drain below.
Halfway through my shower, my momentary respite was interrupted by the opening of the bathroom door. Here's a clean towel, Kelly said, as she came in and dropped a towel on the edge of the sink. Through the clear shower curtain I could see Kelly had undressed to her panties and sweat-stained sports bra. She looked over and smiled at me. Being modest, I quickly tried to cover myself up, but the soft steam from the shower probably hid me more than I knew. Kelly soon retreated to the hallway, leaving the door wide open as she left.
