Chapter One
Sunday Night
Margaret sat at her computer frustrated. She considered herself to be a smart woman; progressive and usually comfortable with new ideas. These computers though, were an entirely different story. She thought of herself as logical, but nothing about this computer seemed logical to her. It frustrated her. Why couldn't the computer think like she did? Surely, it should be able to keep up with her. Lately, it seemed to be running more and more slowly.
As an English Literature professor and aspiring writer, Margaret used her computer daily. She depended on it for both teaching and her own writing. Yet, she knew very little except the basics. "Maybe I should consider taking one of the computer classes that the college offers," she thought. The challenge was always the timing; working the computer classes around her own class schedule. There was also the question of the appropriateness of taking a class with one of her colleagues and with classmates who could very likely be her own students. All that seemed awkward. "There has to be another option," she thought. "I just haven't thought of it yet."
She put away that thought for the moment and concentrated on the immediate concern. "It's so time consuming," she thought. There was little extra time in her tight schedule. When computer challenges occurred, they inevitably threw her off and something was usually shortchanged.
"I'll call Anderson's tomorrow and see if they have any ideas on how to make this run more efficiently," she thought. Finally, the screen unlocked and responded to her commands. By this time she was tired and out of the mood for her writing. She shut down the computer and began to get ready for bed.
She moved from the small desk in her bedroom and began to undress. She threw her clothes straight into the hamper and grabbed the silk nightie from the hook on the back of the bathroom door. She cleansed and moisturizer her face before settling into bed for some research time.
Margaret Wilkes. English Literature professor by day; erotic writer by night. "If only they knew," she thought. "I wonder if any of my colleagues at the college read my stories on the Internet. I wonder what they would think; how they would feel if they knew the author was me"
In spite of the women's revolution and the many changes that it did effect in the world, her colleagues at this small private college in this equally small, Mid-western town were still very conservative. When it came to matters of human sexuality, well, they were downright prim and puritan. Margaret was much more liberal than the world in which she moved. She was well known around campus for her frank and open discussions of all matters, even the big four, money, politics, religion and sex. She wondered if her openness had cost her some momentum on the tenure track. "Perhaps," she thought, "but so be it." She often felt like a fish out of water; a city girl in a small college town. She wondered if her frankness also hindered her dating options. After two years here, Margaret had yet to meet a man who intrigued her. Not that it mattered because although she'd had a few dates, no one had asked her out twice.
Her thoughts turned to other matters as the video appeared on the screen of the small TV in her bedroom. Erotica was a passion for Margaret. Many nights before she slept, Margaret did research. She watched the images on the screen for ideas for her stories. At the same time, she became highly aroused and ended most sessions by masturbating herself to orgasm.
She slipped the silk nightie over her head and reached for the box of toys that she kept by her bed. She stroked herself gently with a vibrator. She watched the man on the screen perform cunnilingus on the woman. He began slowly with his tongue barely flicking at the woman's clitoris. The woman on the screen began to moan softly. The man continued on at this slow pace for a very long time. Then his tongue began to move up and down her entire vulva. The pace and the pressure both seemed to be increasing. She watched as he took the outer lips of her labia in between his teeth. "I wonder how hard he bites down," Margaret thought. Her own hands moved the vibrator faster and more firmly. That was the kind of research that was difficult without a partner. For a moment, Margaret remembered Lee. What an incredible lover he had been. They had learned and shared so much together. After two years, she still missed him. Even now, she could close her eyes and remember the smell of him, the feel of him and most importantly, the way she felt when she was with him.
The couple on the screen shifted into a different position. Margaret watched as the woman opened her legs for the man to enter her. Margaret could see that the woman's vagina was swollen and red. The man's penis was huge. Silently, Margaret wondered if sex could really be comfortable with a penis that large. She had always enjoyed deep penetration with Lee, but truth to tell, that tool seemed larger than life and potentially more painful than pleasureful. Margaret heard herself gasp as the man shoved his penis deep into the woman's vagina. Only a moment later, Margaret shoved the vibrator into her own vagina. The man on the screen pumped hard and fast into the woman. Margaret moved the vibrator quickly and firmly inside herself. She was wet with her own juices. The artificial tool moved easily in and out of her. She pushed it deep; feeling the tip of her cervix. It felt so good. One advantage of "do-it-your-self-loving". You always knew exactly how hard to push and when. So few men took the time to understand the subtle variations in pressure and pacing that brought the greatest intensity to a woman's orgasms. Lee had really paid attention to her body and her responses to him. At the end he had known her body almost better than she did. Her body was a priceless instrument. He was a master musician. He was extraordinary. With him, she had felt extraordinary.
Margaret was breathing hard and fast. She had totally lost track of the action on the screen. She pushed the vibrator in and out; occasionally flicking quickly on her throbbing clit, before plunging the full length of the tool into herself. She shoved it in as deep as she could and clamped her legs tightly together. With both hands, she rubbed fast and hard on her clit as the vibrations continued in her vagina. Margaret could feel the orgasm building from deep within her. She felt herself quiver inside and the waves of pleasure rolled over her. One hand left her clit to push and hold the vibrator as deep as it could go, just as the height of the orgasm hit. She gave herself up to the shaking and shuddering of her body as it was racked with the power of her own release.
She heard heavy breathing and wondered for a moment if it was on the TV or from her. Her chest was heaving. It was from her. She reached down and gently slid the vibrator from her tender flesh. She reached for the remote, shut off the TV and turned on the CD. She closed her eyes and fell to sleep remembering the power of the orgasms that she had experienced with Lee. "There will never be another man for me," she thought as the salty tears spilled out of her tightly closed eyes. "He is the best."
Monday Morning
The morning light streamed into her bedroom and woke Margaret. She rolled over and felt the hard, cold vibrator. Not exactly the hot morning penis that she loved to feel poking into her backside. It reminded Margaret of how alone she felt; how she had still not grown accustomed to sleeping by herself. She wondered if she ever would.
She pulled herself out of bed and into the shower. "I have to call that computer store first thing; as soon as they open," she thought. Moving through her morning routine, Margaret was everywoman. She quickly applied her makeup, fixed her hair and dressed for the day. Before leaving the house, the bed was made, the coffee pot was off and the clean cup was sitting in the dish drainer.
Arriving at her office at the college, Margaret looked up the information for the computer store in her PDA. "That's another thing. This thing probably does tons of stuff that I have no clue about. That's it! The solution to my problem. What I need is a personal technology tutor," she thought as she waited for her call to be answered.
"Good morning. Anderson Computer Sales and Service. How can I help you?" the voice on the other end said.
"What a wonderful voice," Margaret thought. "May I speak with Tom Anderson?"
"One moment, please."
"Tom Anderson speaking," said the new voice on the other end.
"Tom, good morning. This is Margaret Wilkes from the English Department over at the college. I purchased my home computer from you about six months ago. It seems to be running sluggishly and freezing up frequently. Do you have any suggestions? I'm feeling real frustrated."
