This story is based on the transcript of a diary dictated by my friend "Antonia" and sent to me after she returned recently from a long summer holiday in the Mediterranean. Antonia asked that edit and publish her story. After hearing it, I could only think of one place where its "release into the wild" would be appreciated and approved of. So, Literotica, here it is.
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Hi. My name is Antonia and I am telling you my story while I lie back in a huge bath of warm water and bubbles as I sip a lovely white wine. I may have already had a few glasses, so if I get a few things muddled or let slip some details I shouldn't, I know you'll understand and make the necessary accommodations.
I'll start with a few details about me. I'm fifty-one years old - yes a "mature woman" who should not be indulging in the type of thing I'm about to relate, and I'm recently divorced. It was really the approaching finalization of my divorce in May this year that lead to the adventures I'm about to relate, so a few more details are in order, I guess.
I'd married Ted soon after we both finished college. He was tall and ruggedly handsome and I guess I fitted the stereotype of the athletic barbie doll. I had been a competitive swimmer and was obsessed with my fitness and weight. I remained pretty active and took regular exercise right through our marriage, something that certainly helped me to keep my figure and to ward off the worst effects of childbirth, time and gravity. We raised three children - two girls and a boy - all of whom, despite the usual teenage catastrophes, have gone on to leave home, partner up and start building careers and families. Ted went to fat within ten years of marriage but was an excellent provider. He made lots of money in real estate and put a lot of it into investment properties and a collection of classic cars he kept in a massive basement garage under our home.
He seemed quite settled until a few years ago he started to become involved in an evangelical church group with some of his colleagues at the commercial real estate office where he worked. This was out of character at the time as we had both always been "free thinkers" in the sense that we paid little heed to religion and raised our kids to be skeptical about it. Ted said that he saw it more as a "networking opportunity" and didn't ever suggest that I should get involved. Over the first year of his involvement, he lost interest in sex (at least with me) but I put this down mostly to age and, perhaps, a bit of Christian puritanism seeping in around the edges. I was certainly still interested in sex and had had a few approaches from men, some of them far younger than me, but I held off, believing that I too was "getting too old for that shit". But I must admit that I was both flattered and sorely tempted.
During that time, Ted became increasingly distant and spent more and more time doing "outreach" with the church. I tried to raise my concerns with him but he always put me off and even tried to turn the problem back onto me.
When one of his colleagues' wives, I'll call her Molly, visited me for a "woman to woman" chat last year, the bombshell finally hit me. It turns out that the "outreach" and "evangelising" that Ted and his fellow church grandees were involved in was directed solely at young girls from poorer neighbourhoods, mostly single mothers. The church members, all middle-aged men, would offer these girls money and housing and, in return, they got unfettered access to a harem of young, mostly black, sex slaves. I was, of course, initially shocked when the evidence was put in front of me. That shock quickly turned to anger, not just for myself but also for the young women who were being manipulated and abused. Any remaining love or loyalty I had for Ted evaporated and I undertook to extract revenge.
It turned out that some of Ted's fellow abusers were highly placed in government and had the power to thwart any attempt to expose them through the political and legal systems. Over six weeks, Molly and I and two of the other wives, came up with a plan. We quietly gathered video evidence, including interviews with some of the girls involved. We had the tape professionally edited as a documentary expose, naming names. We sent anonymous copies to all the men involved.
The four of us began divorce proceedings on the same day, using the same firm of out of town women lawyers we had carefully vetted for links to the church members. I'd spent twenty years managing the office of a large and successful legal firm in town, so I had a pretty good idea about strategy. I know I shouldn't be proud of the fact that we virtually blackmailed our husbands into very generous settlements, but I will be damned if we were going to let them off without pain. We also achieved generous settlements for the girls and their children and the existence of the video ensured they were put out of reach of these predators. I would be set for life with the settlement and I'd get the house and most of Ted's car collection - worth over a million. There's more to come on that front, but now's not the time. And really, that episode is only the backdrop to the story I want to tell here.
During the year of divorce proceedings I was totally focused and probably quite manic. I thought of nothing else and certainly alienated quite a few long time friends who, because of the nature of Ted's transgressions and our secret plan for revenge, I had kept in the dark about the seedier aspects of the whole episode. People, especially our kids, didn't understand my obsession or hatred of Ted and I'm sure I drove many good people out of my life. The only person who stuck with me was my friend Sophia who had been through two divorces herself.
Sophie was a few years younger than me and was a big, beautiful, curvy woman of Italian heritage. And by "curvy" I don't mean fat. She was a classic Mediterranean beauty, around 5'9'' with large breasts and wide hips, long dark hair and classic looks. Sophie was a one of a kind. Highly intelligent - she had degrees in ancient history and psychology, had published several books and spoke three foreign languages like a native - Sophie was a chameleon in her public life. She could take on any character, from bimbo to princess, and wrap people, especially men, around her little finger. In her own words, she "could do classy or brassy" and she was great fun to spend time with, often delivering devastating insights with a smile or a wink.
She really helped keep me grounded during the winter of the divorce and, as spring broke, I spent more and more time at her place just chatting and chilling. She was never judgmental and I felt comfortable revealing the story of Ted and his "church" to her on the condition of total confidentiality. She took it all in her stride and supported me in my efforts to inflict maximum damage on those involved. She even arranged counselling services for the girls.
As the proceedings worked their way to their inevitable conclusion, Sophie took me under her wing and distracted me from the detail. Warmer days meant that we started to spend more time beside her pool in her extensive and private garden. She gradually got me thinking about life after divorce.
