Ericas Erotic Adventure

1

Erica laid in bed most nights in an absolute lather. For the past year or so, her hormones have been out of control and she was always horny.

Her husband Mike was in the bed next to her but was sound asleep, snoring gently. It was not too disruptive most nights and, when it got to be too much for her, she would quietly go across to the spare bedroom and get in bed there. But tonight, she was staying put. Their two teenage daughters had a friend over, so all of the rooms were occupied.

Erica let her hand fall to her pussy. She didn't masturbate every night but she felt like she needed a little something. She closed her eyes, as her fingers began to gently massage the outer folds of her lips. She could hear how wet she was by the sounds she made, as she gently but purposively massaged herself. She moved her fingers this way and that, drawing them up to her tightly trimmed bush before moving them back down. She liked this motion, and she could feel herself getting even more worked up.

Mike stirred a little. He was a good husband, and an excellent father. He was fine in bed and they had a satisfying sex life, even if it was nothing spectacular. The problem was that as she approached her fifties, her needs vastly outstripped his ability to satisfy her.

She returned to her rubbing motion and thought about the last time she had made love with her husband. It was almost a week, she calculated. She had tried to spice it up a little but suggesting that they shower together an evening when their girls were staying over at the neighbours. She didn't really need a shower. In fact, she had spent a couple of hours getting ready, shaving her legs, trimming her bush, and painting her toenails and fingernails. She wanted Mike to notice that she was still sexy.

She rubbed herself a little more vigorously at the thought of this, still restricting herself to the outside of her pussy. But she could feel her wetness now with ease.

When she got into the shower with Mike, he did not seem to notice her nails or anything else. She took the handheld shower and moved it across Mike's body, as he soaped himself up. He was still in pretty good shape. As she rinsed the soap, she noticed that he still had biceps, a relatively flat stomach, and strong legs. When most of the soap was gone from him, she pointed the showerhead at his cock playfully. Mike withdrew a little but smiled at her. Erica liked his cock. It was not long or thick, but it did the job. She never really understood all of the emphasis on size and was a person who thought that the nature of the sex mattered more.

She turned the hand shower toward herself wetting her now-grey hair. It was done in a short style that suited her and made her look elegant. She let the water flow over her shoulders, and onto her tits. Sure, they sagged a little, she thought, but they still looked pretty good. The water flowed over her waist, which had thickened the last couple of years, and she opened her legs slightly. Mike began to soap her body, and this caused Erica to stir a little. She loved to be touched. He massaged the shower gel into a lather. Mike lingered over her tits for a while, and when he reached behind her to wash her ass, he moved closer to Erica. She noticed that he still was not hard and felt the slightest pang of disappointment. Mike then moved his hands to her pussy, soaping it up.

As Erica remembered all of this, she continued to massage her pussy. She slipped two fingers into her pussy, which was now sopping and then deftly moved again, massaging her clit for the first time. Why didn't Mike slip a finger in me in the shower? she thought to herself. She slipped her fingers into herself and let out a small sigh. She drew them up to her clit and began to rub a little more aggressively.

She returned to the memory of how she rinsed the soap from her body and, when it was mostly gone, she leaned toward Mike and kissed him. She aimed the shower head to the underside of his balls, tickling them gently. He jumped outside of the shower and began to dry himself off. Erica turned off shower and stepped out. Mike put a towel around her too. Once they were dried off, they headed toward their bed.

Mike's snoring interrupted her memory and she thought that he was stirring a little. But she kept rubbing her clit. When he settled, her thoughts went back to the other night. As Mike walked to the door to ensure it was locked, she pulled down all of the bed coverings, ensuring that they were neatly folded. She arranged herself in a way that she thought was both pleasing to the eye and inviting. What she really wanted was for Mike to kiss her passionately and then take his time exploring her body with his lips and tongue. But whatever passion had burned with them when they were younger had been largely extinguished by the constant work of raising two children. Their sex life at this point was vanilla, penetrative, and if Erica was being honest with herself, a little boring.

Despite all her efforts before the shower and in it, Mike jumped into bed.

"Are you ready?"

Erica noticed that his cock was hard but not really firm. "Are you?" she asked in return. "Or should we have a little more fun?"

"I'm ready," Mike said and, not waiting for a response, put his knees between her legs. He held his cock and playfully slapped her pussy with it a few times. Erica wondered if that was for her pleasure or if he was trying to make himself harder. But before she could answer her own question, Mike slipped his cock into her.

"You are really wet," he said.

"I'm always wet these days," Erica said playfully. "In a ready state every night," she said more as an invitation that as a statement of fact.

Mike slid his cock fully into Erica. It was about 15 centimeters, and slipped easily into her. It was a lovely cock and she loved the person it came with! She drew her legs up to try and show Mike that she was enjoying his efforts. Erica cooed and offered words of encouragement to her husband. She wanted him to know that she appreciated his efforts.

"Do you want to take me from behind?" Erica asked.

"I'm close. Let's keep going." Mike said.

Erica tried to remember the last time that they fucked in a position

other

than missionary. It had been a long time. Mike's thrusting picked up and Erica realized that he must be close to cumming, so she pushed her thoughts away and tried to focus on her own pleasure. She could feel her excitement building but Mike came in that moment.

"That was nice," he said, withdrawing his cock and reaching for a towel.

"It was," Erica said, somewhat charitably. She did not want Mike to know that she was disappointed. They had never really been able to talk about sex and this was now a problem.

These thoughts took her out of her moment, and she stopped masturbating. Her lack of fulfillment dominated her thoughts, and this sense of disappointment took her out of the moment. She would have to try and sleep now, even though her needs were not satiated. She looked over at Mike who had barely moved but who continued to snore.

2

Erica awoke the next day and had her morning coffee on the deck. Mike had already left for his job as a pharmacist. Erica heard him getting ready but decided to stay in bed with her thoughts. She hated her resentment. She was a good wife and a good mother and she did not want to change anything about her life. But she also wanted to be fulfilled. She wondered if every married woman felt this way at one time or another. Marriage was hard. Every woman knew that and so did most men, if they ever took a minute to think about it.

She went back into the house and saw the formal photograph of her graduation from nursing school. In the 1990s, people still had formal portraits done, usually with a local photographer who would come to the school. She loved that picture and the memories it evoked.

She began her studies in 1994 and attended the largest university in the region. She lived with the other nursing students in Morton Hall, a huge residence in the city center. It was about a fifteen minute walk to the campus or the regional hospital. The downtown pedestrian street was only ten minutes away. For nursing students, this was a perfect location and many decided to stay in residence for the duration of their studies.

Nursing education had changed a lot by the 1990s. Previous generations of nursing students had to combine their studies with copious amounts of work in the hospital and their lives were tightly regulated by matrons, who imposed strict curfews and sundry other rules. By the 1990s, nursing students had considerably more freedom.

Erica's weekends were spent in one of two ways. She spent most of her time studying hard to prepare for exams and to meet the exacting standards of her professors. But about once a month, the nursing students would plan a weekend night out. These always began with notice posted on the floor's bulletin board, sketching out a theme for the night, a start time for the house drinks, and an itinerary of bars. Themes could be things like a sock hop, which would require poodle skirts, bobby socks and saddle shoes, or the Summer of Love, that allowed the nursing students to don their best faux-hippy outfits. Everyone would gather in the common room and enjoy drinks and snacks before going out. This had two purposes. Firstly, it provided a start to the social lubrication that would make the evening a memorable one. Secondly, it kept the nurses out of the bars for a few hours that had the beneficial side effect of keeping the cost of the evening down. Nursing students aspired to be upper middle class but most of them came from families of modest means, so the costs of university education was residence fees were always a worry for some of the girls.

These social evenings were always fun. The downtown bars with bands and dancing did not charge cover to young women before 12:00am, so the goal was simple. Have just enough drinks to get a good buzz going but not enough that you could not walk to the bars. The worst offence was to have too many house drinks and be denied entry to one of the bars. This ruined not only your evening but that of at least one of your friends, since no nursing student would allow another one to go home alone.

Erica loved these nights. She usually had a maximum of two house drinks, spaced over a couple of hours. She never drew attention to this. When she went out, she drank mocktails. Her companions never noticed because Erica always offered to fetch the first round. And once they started dancing, nobody noticed what anyone else was drinking. As long as you were having fun, people assumed you were drinking but Erica was never drunk in university. Not even once. She liked to be in control of her faculties.

She also loved to dance. Men found her incredibly attractive. She had luxurious thick hair and dramatic eyebrows. Young men frequently fell into her eyes first, which seemed to welcome the most intense exchanges across a bar or a dance floor. Erica smiled demurely, and not in the toothy way of many young women and this made her seem even sexier. Older men saw her as a classic beauty who was nevertheless on trend with her hair and makeup, seemingly offering that perfect combination of maturity and youthful beauty.

Erica remembered all of this as she ascended the stairs. She thought about getting dressed but she laid on the bed and began to rub her pussy again. Her masturbation the night before had been interrupted by unpleasant memories, so she felt like she needed some release. She could feel the wetness of her pussy. Mike was at work and the girls had left the house early, heading to one of the local beaches for the day.

She opened the drawer to her nightstand and reached under the towels. She developed the habit of keeping her toys out of view when her girls were younger, and the habit just stuck. She looked at the paucity of her collection. A dildo, two vibrators (one of which was broken), and a bullet. Erica looked at the pink bullet, thinking that it would do. She turned it on, and held it between her index finger and thumb. She began to move it gently up and down her wet slit, then side to side. This felt very good to her and she could feel herself tingling. She moved her bullet down to her perineum, holding it there. She placed her middle finger in the middle of the bullet, increasing the pressure a little and closed her eyes tightly. She wondered idly to herself if she had ever been licked there. She loved the sensation and drew her knees up slightly, widening her legs. She moved back to her pussy, pressing it more firmly now. She began to feel her passions building slowly. She moved it up her folds to her clit, which had become slightly engorged. She bit her lower lip and moaned audibly, spreading her legs wider. She began to move it up and down her pussy and writhed a little. She tapped it against it herself and returned to the motion that she knew would bring her to climax. "Fuuuuck," she moaned loudly, an expression of satisfaction. But equally an expression of her sexual frustration.

I need to be fucked, she thought to herself, as she placed the bullet on her nightstand. She thought about the vibrator or the dildo but decided that she had been indulgent enough for the time being and had to get on with her day. She decided to get a shower.

3

In the shower, she began to think about another night when she was s nursing student. The theme was "Rocky Horror", and everyone was dressed as a character from the movie. The safer students all dressed as Janet, with a few Brads mixed in to ensure that the Janets had company for the evening. It was interesting how the close friendships translated into these costume couplings. Dressing as Magenta or Columbia was a little more daring and ensured that people would comment on your costume. Magenta costumes invited a lot of maid fantasy type conversations with boys through the evening. If you dressed as Columbia, the students and the young men you met later would inevitably comment on how sexy your legs looked in the black stockings or comment on the top hat. A couple of the students dared to dress as Frank, who was the "sweet transvestite" and the center of the movie and, predictably, the center of attention at the house party or on the dance floors.

Erica rinsed herself with the water and changed the hand-held shower spray to a more direct pulse. She let the water stream against her pussy, another sensation she enjoyed. She remembered how she had been dressed as Columbia and smiled sweetly at the recollection of all the attention she received. The water continued to pulse against her pussy. She remembered how when several of the students returned to her residence floor, Lisa, one of the Magentas, drew her close and kissed her passionately. Erica had never been kissed by a woman that passionately before, but Lisa-as-Magenta was quite drunk, and Erica knew that anything more was unlikely to end well. She felt another pang of desire, the product of the water spray against her pussy and a beautiful memory.

She decided to get out of the shower and turned off the water. It was time to walk the dog around the neighbourhood. Erica loved these walks. The neighbourhood was a friendly one and a mixed one. There were recent immigrants from China and India, older retired people, and young families. Erica and Mike had lived in the neighbourhood for almost twenty years now. It was new when they moved in, and it was the only home that their two daughters had ever known.

Erica got dressed. She slipped into a white sleeveless top that kept her cool but which also accentuated her bust, while simultaneously masking her waist somewhat. She put on a pair of linen pants. Erica knew that these pants made her ass look good, even if she was mindful that it was certainly not as firm as Jillian, the young mother who had recently moved in next door. Her ass was fuller than Yilin's, the pretty Chinese girl who lived on the corner up the street. Yilin liked to be called Yvonne, a concession to her new life in a predominantly white neighbourhood. She had a Shiba dog, which retained its Chinese name, Cheng. She told Erica the name came from a myth about a concubine.

Erica thought the Yilin was very beautiful and sometimes even thought of her wickedly as the neighbourhood vixen, appropriate since her dog looked like a chubby fox. Yilin would sometimes dress very causally when she walked Cheng around the neighbourhood, wearing faux glasses that made her look studious, with her hair in a ponytail, and loose sweats that did not accentuate her shape. But Erica had also seen Yilin dressed up, as she headed out for a dinner with friends or a night on the town. On those occasions, she looked simply radiant. Her straight black hair fell well beyond her shoulders, her posture was immaculate, and her outfits accentuated her small frame but lovely figure. On these nights, her makeup was always perfect, her lips were always red, as were her nails. Erica always noticed her shoes, which seemed expensive.

Now Erica hoped that she would see Yilin on her walk. Sometimes they strolled past the other houses together, the two dogs content to engage in a contest to see which one could slow the walk the most, Cheng with her sniffing of every scent, and Erica's dog dutifully marking as much territory as possible. The two women did not mind these walks, since it gave them time to talk. But Yilin was nowhere to be seen.

She did see Patrick, a friendly neighbor about her age who lived just a few houses down. She liked Patrick a lot. He was always friendly to her and to Mike. Sometimes, he would invite them over for drinks or to have a BBQ. Erica knew that she sometimes fantasized about Patrick. He was fit, handsome, and smart. Erica knew that he taught at the lesser university in town but she could not remember his discipline. All she knew was that he looked great in a pair of shorts, and that sometimes mowed his lawn with his shirt off and that he still had great muscle tone. His muscles were not as firm as Jillian's husband, who was probably twenty years younger but Patrick was certainly handsome.

"Good morning Erica," Patrick said in his friendly way.

"Hiya. Are you working from home today?"

"Just for the morning. I have a departmental meeting later that I have to attend."

"Ahh, well sometimes you have to put in an appearance," Erica joked.

They both smiled and for a moment their eyes locked. Erica thought she detected an approving glace at her outfit or, perhaps, her body. "Well, I'm off," she said, although she regretted not making an excuse to talk some more.

She walked down the street, turned to her left and then got on the walking path that circled the small lake in the neighborhood. It was only a kilometer, so she usually walked around it twice to wear out her dog, Alex. As she walked, she thought once more about Lisa-as-Magenta.

4

Erica knew that she was straight. In the 1990s, most people were gay or straight, and a handful were bisexual. The bisexual people were viewed with a healthy degree of suspicion by other people. Gay people viewed them as individuals who were not yet comfortable enough to declare that they were gay. In a way, they thought that the dalliances bi people had with members of the opposite sex simply provided cover for their true identity. Straight people also thought that bi people were really gay. Of course, bi people did not see themselves in this way at all but that hardly mattered. Sexual identities were certainly more fixed than they are today, thought Erica.

Still, Erica knew that she could be aroused by women in the right context. Most people dismiss these moments as simply a matter of experimentation, but Erica thought that there was something else going on. She had been attracted to Lisa-as-Magenta when she was a student. She certainly had had more than one masturbation fantasy about Yilin in the past year. And she had been a member of two different threesomes, neither of which had her husband present. One was with two boys and the other with a couple. But it was the memory of Lisa that was on her mind this day.