I had particular places that I liked to go when alone. One was in a group of rocks overlooking the sea, another was in a copse on the edge of the corn fields when it was almost ready to be harvested. It was spring weekend, a weeks before the school summer holidays and I needed to chill. The one I made my way to that day was deep in the woods where a small clearing of grass and moss was dappled by sunlight and was always intensely quiet.
After I turned off the path through the woods, just before I stepped through the closely growing trees into the sunlight, I saw a man laying in my place! I stood staring at him. 'Why was he there?' 'Why was he in my private place?' I was irritated to say the least but then I began looking at him properly. He was at least 15 years older than me, hair going grey, laying on his stomach with his face toward me, his eyes closed. 'Was he asleep?' He was half naked, his shirt lay next to him and he had no real excess weight. I realised as I spied on him that, even though he was older and I didn't know him, I felt an attraction, perhaps a lust for him. He suddenly opened his eyes and they held mine before I managed to stumble back to the path.
Silly as it may sound it took me a considerable amount of courage to venture to my place in the woods again a few days later. The small clearing was empty. I sat as I usually did with my back against a log and my legs out before me on the grass. I was tempted to touch myself as I normally did here. I took my jeans off and checked around again. I realised I was really horny and my knickers were soaked but I didn't feel relaxed. The clouds were blocking the sun and nothing seemed quite right right. Frustrated, I dressed again and walked away, and home.
I returned to my clearing again the next weekend. No one was there. The grass was slightly flattened I noticed but that was all. The sun was out and I must have fallen asleep. Strangely that happened quite a few times on my subsequent visits too, falling asleep, waking very refreshed and a little light headed. Very pleasant but worrying that I needed so much sleep.
About a month later I was out with a group of friends. We had been drinking and were being a little noisy in a restaurant. We had left our husbands behind and were letting our hair down. As I was laughing I felt someones eyes on me. I ignored the feeling at first realising I'd had a few glasses of wine, but eventually turned and scanned the room. I couldn't see any eyes on me any more and I was about to resume my conversation when I saw the man from the woods. He was on his own at a table, with a book open in front of him. He looked up, I looked away quickly, embarrassed at being caught again and though I felt myself blushing talked quickly and almost incoherently to Andrea, my friend. A little later I was aware of him paying his bill and watched as he left the restaurant.
When I asked my friends who that man was they all looked at me as though I was mad and most of them hadn't noticed him. The ones who had had no idea as to who it was. In spite of the alcohol I couldn't sleep that night. My husband snored peacefully beside me and was oblivious to anyone else, as usual, but my mind kept returning to this stranger, my stranger.
At around the same time I began to look at porn again. I didn't know why I looked again, probably frustration with Charles being away with work so often again.
I remember I was aroused by the idea of exhibitionism and looked at what I could find. I looked at videos, pictures and stories.
It was disappointing initially as I found a lot about women or girls dressing very provocatively or going out and flashing but they all looked like they were doing it for themselves and were in control of everything. If I had wanted that it would have been easy to do, relatively. Men were always watching and hoping. Of course I actually didn't do it. There were social barriers and it would create problems at work and with friends and neighbours if I overstepped the boundaries of the acceptable and was caught.
However, I realised that wasn't quite what I wanted. I liked the idea of someone else exhibiting me! I began to realise that the control aspect was the key. It was the idea of being told to show my body or parts of it, or not having the choice, being in a position where I must. There weren't many videos that fit the bill, slightly more pictures though more stories. Many, though not all the videos looked a bit over the top with plastic looking dungeons and things. I wanted something a little more realistic, true to life. I understood that the feeling of charged sexual humiliation must be difficult to capture but there were a few and my masturbation sessions had increased out of all proportion. It was quite embarrassing really, I was worse than when I was a teenager. I even masturbated secretly when Charles was here.
I realised that, though I was quite assertive in my life generally, sexually I became aroused at the idea of being submissive, of accepting what others wanted of me, my body. Although my husband, the position itself leant him some authority, Charles, as rich and successful as he was, he wasn't really the dominant type. I thought he might be, I was very much a trophy wife in his eyes but the furthest it went was to show me off, demurely clothed, at cocktail parties.
There was no one else I could trust to talk about it with, let alone give over control to. So I continued with my increasingly secret steamy sessions on my own. Or I thought they were secret. In front of the computer I often now stripped naked and fingered myself to orgasm after orgasm until I was too sore to carry on. I would get very horny thinking of it, far wetter than I expected, with my nipples aching and hard, and once I had become aroused I needed to orgasm desperately. I even found it didn't make any difference if the dominant in my imagination was another woman. It turned me on regardless.
A few days later Andrea, my friend, called me on my mobile. We talked about things that had come up on the evening we were out for a long time, and about a new online store with wonderful skirts. Then,
"Oh by the way, I think I have found out who your stranger is", she said laughing.
"Who do you mean?" I tried to bluff, desperate to find out. She laughed knowingly, smugly even.
"Its alright," another laugh, "you don't need to pretend with me."
"Who is he then?"
"Well, I don't know his name but I think he must be the psychologist professor who has moved into to one of the houses backing onto yours."
I ran upstairs and looked out of the windows at the back of the house. There were two houses there, half hidden by trees. I had never known the people living there, never gave it much thought. There wasn't any movement in either of them, nor any signs of life, no washing hanging out, no dog barking from a yard. I stood there for almost half an hour, watching and letting my mind shut down as I stood.
The next morning there was a bit of a noise at the back of the garden, out of sight behind the trees. I wandered out to look and found a couple of workmen putting up a new back fence. For the man in the house behind us. The man from the clearing! I had no idea why he should want a new fence but the men were friendly and well mannered and I made them a cup of tea. Later, when collecting their mugs I found that a gate had been introduced along the fence. One hadn't been there before, it had simply been a wooden fence. Now it was a wooden fence with a wooden gate. It seemed like a reasonable idea.
I saw the man from the clearing a few more times after that, the longest time in the library, where he was obviously researching something. I watched him secretly for some time before leaving. Another time I met him in the bakers when I entered before I saw him standing in the queue. He nodded at me, in a kind of greeting. I blushed, not knowing what to do. He smiled and I tried to smile back before he paid for his purchases and left. I felt so silly. I should have spoken.
In the clearing I opened my eyes just a little. The light through the leaves strobed across my eyes. I couldn't see clearly. I felt a fly land on my body, it crawled up my stomach then flew away. I somehow knew my clothes were neatly piled next to me but my eyes stayed on the leaves. My body was hot. It seemed to pulse. I let my knees fall apart, very aware of the feeling of my lips peeling slowly apart. I could feel the hardness of my nipples throbbing. I spread myself wider, thrusting my hips up as an offering. I was so in need. A silhouette moved across the leaves. I closed my eyes lazily. When I awoke again I felt so rested though my bra felt a size too small and as I sat up and my knickers tightened I realised they were wet. I felt myself blushing but stood and stretched leisurely and walked back.
About a week later I came home from shopping. The man from the clearing talking to Charles, my husband, in the lounge. I couldn't believe this man was in my house. He was sitting in my lounge wearing jeans and a polo top, arms brown, hair nicely greying. He looked calm, in control. I dropped my eyes.
"Oh there you are Emily." said Charles, "I have found just the right man to sort out your problem."
"My problem?" I looked up at him.
