Nothing much had changed at home. The week had dragged but the weekend had finally arrived. She had been looking forward to today, Peter was going out with his friends on a train crawl and she knew this meant that he would be out all day and most of the evening. And when he arrived home it would usually be with a kebab that he would half eat before falling asleep on the sofa.
She had planned a nice day in town for herself. She had thought about asking a friend, but had decided that today was just going to be her day. She planned to get the train in, then have a nice coffee in a little cafe on the station, have a look around the shops, maybe treat herself, and then dinner. She hadn't decided where or if she would have a wine. Then, possibly the cinema. She hadn't been on her own for ages, and there was a film she wanted to see that she knew Peter would not want to watch.
She got up and went downstairs. Peter was still in bed. She made a coffee and caught up on her social media. She scrolled through Mumsnet and had a look through style and beauty. There were some interesting posts on dressing your age and someone looking for a new perfume. There was apparently a new Chanel one out that she hadn't heard of.
"One I'll to have a look for today," she thought to herself.
She then gave a sneaky look at the sex board. It was her guilty pleasure. She loved the boldness of some of the posters and recognised their usernames. There was a post from a guy whose wife didn't want sex. He appeared nice, and she could certainly relate, but he had gotten a few stinging replies. Some mentioning "helping around the house," that never goes down well!
She then clicked on a post about opening a marriage. A woman in a similar position to her had asked how others had gone about it. There was a lot of excellent advice and some success stories. One poster in particular, RaceyMaisy, shared a story of joining another couple, and how the husband had a big cock, and how the wife had stroked her hair as he had pounded her from behind. It was very arousing. She could feel her cheeks flush and her pussy tingling. She was about to touch herself when she heard the sound of Peter coming downstairs.
Time had disappeared. Peter came down dressed.
She hadn't heard the shower. "Are you not having a shower, Peter, before you go?" she asked nicely.
"Christ, woman, I've only just come down and you're on me," Peter barked!
"I only asked," she replied. "I always want to go out fresh."
"Well, that's you. It's a train crawl, not a wedding," He huffed.
She doubted if he'd shower before a wedding!!
She went upstairs to get showered and ready. She heard a "See you later," as the door banged, and a sense of relief came over her. She has the house to herself. She got undressed and got in the shower. She washed her hair and used her best shower foam to wash her body. The strong aroma of the foam filled her nose. She cherished herself as she cleansed her body.
As the warm water ran over her and steam filled the shower cubicle, her mind wandered to the thoughts on the poster's tale of the threesome. She imagined how exciting it must have been to have given herself like that, and how confident and unashamed the poster must have been to be so exposed with another woman present.
As she caressed her skin, her hands were drawn to her vulva as she ran her fingers over her soft, wet lips; she felt her clitoris engorge. She stroked it and explored herself as she rubbed. She thought how divine it would be to have his thick cock filling her as he thrusted powerfully from behind. She felt the need for more stimulation; she grabbed the separate shower head and set it to jet.
As the warm water from the rain head continued to fall on her, she directed the jet to her folds. She let out a deep moan as the jet of warm water hit and bounced up onto her clit. She liberally directed the water all over her, now expecting, sensitive area. As she directed the water between her legs it caught her ass hole by accident, but as it did again, she moaned and had to put a hand on the shower wall. It was this hand that reached down to her clit again and now more eagerly stroked as the jet continued to stimulate.
She brought the jet closer for more stimulation and increased the intensity on her clit. The build of orgasm was on its way, the thought of his cock and the wife encouraging him to come deep inside. A thought then flashed in of the wife holding her tits and caressing her hard nipples. This took her over the edge. She came hard and strong, all the time strong jets of water rushing onto her, which seemed to make the waves of climax last longer. It was her most satisfying orgasm in a long time, and it's only 10:30 am. She smirked at how her thoughts had become so dirty so quickly! God, she needed to see as good seeing too. It was time to get ready and face the day.
She put on one of her favourite dresses, normally reserved for nights out. But as these had been infrequent recently, she thought, 'why not?' She had also, quite naughtily, put on one of her favourite lingerie sets. It was a classic black lace bra and matching delicate black lace pants; then she put her six-strap belt on with full contrast nylons. Finished with some women about town jewellery and a puff of Chanel, she was looking good. The previous shower activities had certainly perked her up.
The station was busy, and the coffee shop was packed. She had gotten into town later than she had planned, so she just grabbed a cappuccino to take away. As she walked out of the station, she walked towards M&S. She hadn't planned to go in, but thought she may as well. She had bought a couple of work dresses from them in the past, but they have gone out of style lately. She went up to the ladies' department and had a look at the clothing. There wasn't much, to be honest, and she wished she hadn't bothered.
As she went to go out, she walked past the underwear section. They was a very smartly presented employee that caught her eye. She was older than her, late 50s to early 60s. Her hair was immaculate, and she had a figure that drew the eye. She was about 5ft 6in and had ample, pert breasts that were tight in her uniform, a small waist, and a beautifully shaped bottom.
As she looked, their eyes met.
"Hello can I help you with anything?" she asked. Her voice was confident and direct, but had a nice tone. One may describe it as posh, or very BBC.
"No, just passing through," she replied.
"Not like it used to be," she said, surprisingly.
