Perhaps one of the most sensual and erotic experiences I ever had occurred nearly twenty years ago now. But the memory of it remains with me to this day.
Back then I worked with a woman named Lucille. I was in my early thirty's at that time, and Lucille was some twenty or so years older than I was. But the age difference hardly mattered between us, we got along famously, and I looked forward to seeing and working with her on a daily basis. At first there was nothing at all sexual even mentioned between us, she had a very 'rigid' upbringing, and things of that nature weren't easily discussed amongst coworkers anyway, especially between us. But as our friendship grew, I learned more and more of Lucille's personal life, and for her, it had been a very difficult one. We had worked together for several years before we'd even gotten to a 'familiar' personal working level, but as Lucille was easy to talk to, and sometimes even to confide in, we grew even closer and eventually began to share with one another things that were occurring in our lives outside of the workplace.
Our Company sponsored a weekly Bowling League, and I had signed on to bowl, as had Lucille, which surprised me a little bit. But I soon after learned from her, that it was basically her one and only night away from the 'boring' and uneventful life that she was leading at home after work. So for her, it was an outlet and gave her something to look forward to each week. As it turned out, she and I ended up on the same team so that made it equally special for both of us, it was a way to further continue our association and friendship away from work.
Lucille was a tall woman, just over six feet. And though she certainly didn't have all the curves in all the right places anymore, she was a very attractive mature looking woman, and still had (though of course I hadn't seen) fairly large full breasts. On the rare occasion she actually wore something that even hinted at a bit of cleavage, I found myself more than admiring that tantalizing sweet bit of flesh that was seen.
The place where we bowled at had an underground parking garage. Nearly everyone parked in the lot just outside the front entrance, but a few of us used the garage. I did, primarily because I had a fairly new car, and it kept down the incidental 'dings' from occurring in my doors. Lucille also preferred parking in the garage, as she didn't care to have to walk out to her car later on in the evening after it had gotten dark.
There were a few spots in the parking lot, which weren't very well lit. However, as I has teased her, there were also a few spots in the garage which had lights out that hadn't been replaced either, but she nearly always managed to park close to the door anyway, so a poorly lit basement garage didn't really bother her any.
We'd been bowling for several weeks already when on one particular night I knew by Lucille's overall attitude that something was bothering her. She wouldn't talk to me about it however, so we continued to bowl, but I knew that something was wrong, as she wasn't her same old normal self. My suspicions were confirmed when we as a group, always went into the bar for a few drinks afterwards, announced that she was going home early instead. I stayed long enough for one drink myself, but as it just didn't feel the same without Lucille there amongst us, I soon decided to make an early night of it too. I walked down the stairway to the garage and immediately noticed that Lucille's car was still there, and oddly enough that she had parked in one of the few areas where the lights hadn't been replaced, throwing a great deal of shadow over where her car was sitting. I immediately grew concerned as this was rather odd, and immediately went to her car and tapped on the passenger side window. It was obvious she had been crying, but upon seeing me, her face brightened a little and she reached over unlocking the door so I could get in.
"Lucille, what's wrong?" I asked slipping into the passenger seat, closing the door.
She just shook her head, though thankfully the tears had finally stopped. I waited patiently sitting beside her there on the front seat of her car, knowing that 'if' and when she was able to, she'd tell me what it was that was bothering her. After a considerable amount of time, she finally did.
"Brad, I really hate to burden you with my problems, but honestly, I don't have anyone I can even possibly imagine talking to about this. Certainly no one in my family would understand, and would no doubt be 'shocked' if I even told them. I'm not even sure I can honestly talk to you about any of this either without totally embarrassing myself, but if I don't talk to someone, I think I'll end up going crazy!"
She'd certainly said a mouthful, but it was evident that if it was important enough to actually sit and wait for me, which is what she'd obviously decided to do, then I was more than willing to listen, and I told her so.
"Just promise me you'll listen without saying anything, without passing judgment on me because I'm probably going to say some things that might surprise you. And worse, if you interrupt or stop me before I'm finished, I might not be able to even look at you again let alone finish what I want to say to you."
"Ok Lucille, I promise."
Lucille relaxed somewhat having heard that, and settled back in her seat though she no longer looked at me. Closing her eyes, she began.
"You already know a little bit about my 'life' at home, but what we've never discussed really is the sexual part of it as well. And this is what I guess is finally starting to get to me. I've been married now for thirty years. Our Anniversary was last weekend, and to celebrate it, I ended up cooking dinner like it was any other night of the week. My husband bought me what he thought was a sexy nightgown, but to me looked "Whorey" and completely out of character for anything I'd enjoy having or even wearing. Now don't get me wrong Brad, I consider myself to be a very sexual woman, and to be honest, I've done things I'd be too embarrassed to even admit to you that I've done. But, as hard as I have tried to be the wife, woman, lover that my husband has wanted me to be, it's the way he treats me when 'he' wants sex that I find degrading and totally unacceptable anymore. Needless to say, I refused to wear his 'fuck-gown' as he called it and we ended up fighting on our Anniversary instead of doing anything else."
I continued to sit there listening to her. I had certainly known that her marriage wasn't perfect, after all, who's was really? Even mine was on a roller coaster of good and bad days it seemed like lately, but I had no idea how difficult a time it truly had been for her either. And one 'big' thing, in all the time we'd worked together, I had never heard Lucille say anything harsher than damn or hell the whole time we'd known one another, so hearing her use the word 'fuck' even if it was in a description of something, she had always previously said "The 'F' word, and not even that unless it was absolutely necessary to whatever was being discussed. Obviously, this was another one of those very rare moments when she knew that actually saying the word would have more impact and underline the seriousness of the situation for me.
