CONFESSION
My name is Elizabeth. I am not a Catholic but a conservative Protestant. Still, I feel a need to confess. I am 42 years old, stand 5' 5" with brown, shoulder-length hair that curls as humidity increases, brown eyes, and a good figure, tending to voluptuous with nice legs, which are toned by walking, biking and a dance class. Both male and female friends have told me I am a beautiful woman, and I am pleased that they think so. This gives me confidence to wear shorts, dresses that show my shape and skirts and dresses with hems several inches above my knees. Still, I innocently never thought of myself as particularly sexy, much less exciting, and even less irresistible. Mark didn't pay much attention to what I wore. All of this contributed to my undoing.
While our church stresses that sex is for reproduction, after bearing two children, we felt that we had met that goal. Our college educations gave us a wider view of sex that includes making love as well as babies. My husband had a vasectomy so that I could avoid the Pill and we could avoid condoms. Our weekly reunion of physical intimacy and pleasure was a highlight in our lives. My husband appreciated that childbearing and nursing had stimulated my breasts to enlarge from 34b to 34c.
I teach math half-time at our local college. Some of my male students, their hormones surging, try to flirt with me. I deflect their attentions to their female classmates. Mark is about 5' 10" with black hair and a lean figure from much exercise. He also teaches and is an engineering consultant, which suits his love for travel.
I have a good singing voice and use it in the church choir and in a secular choir. I also perform with the local theater group, mostly in musicals. When I'm performing a role, I drop some inhibitions of my modest upbringing to immerse myself in a character who is sometimes quite different from me. I even played a witch, not a good witch, either!
We have a busy social life with friends from church, school, relatives and neighbors. Our daughter and son are away in colleges, where the spring terms end at the beginning of June. Having lived in our house for twelve years, we made some friends among our neighbors. George and Marge were a few years older than we. I became friends with Marge first, and gradually we all became friends. Mark joked that, Marge being plain, fulfilled the theory that beautiful women often befriend a plain woman as a foil. I did not think much of that theory.
It happened that George and I won leading roles in a musical that also had dramatic and romantic scenes. He had a good singing voice, which I enjoyed. At about 6' tall, with thick, sandy hair, regular features, and a muscular physique, he had a stage presence of a small-time "matinee idol." During the first rehearsal, we had a romantic scene that included embracing and passionately kissing. I already knew that George found me attractive and desirable from his glances at my body and his compliments on my looks.
The director said, "Draw on your experience. You know what to do!" I wore a sleeveless dress held up by shoulder straps, with a neckline that just showed a hint of cleavage. The hem was a few inches shorter than I usually wore, but now I was Cynthia, not Elizabeth! George embraced me lightly at first. Then, he pulled me hard against his body while he kissed my bare shoulder, my neck and behind my ear. Cynthia shivered. Finally, he kissed my lips, pressing them apart and darting his tongue against my teeth. Cynthia could feel his erection against her belly and butterflies in her stomach.
Our director asked me to respond more physically. For the second kiss, I embraced him and allowed his tongue to touch my own. George ran his fingers through my hair. Cynthia shivered down to her toes! The director was satisfied.
"Very good. George you may need a cup."
"A cup of what?"
The director pointed.
"Yes, and make sure that it can't "runneth over!"
George looked mortified. Other members of the cast laughed, and I was not too old to blush, out of character. As we walked to our homes, I said,
"George, I think that we can act a passionate kiss without you actually sticking your tongue into my mouth."
"Okay. I'm sorry about the 'scene' I created, but for a woman who is as beautiful and exciting as you, I will need that cup!"
"I do have the experience to know that your reaction was natural, but we don't want the audience laughing at a serious scene, do we?"
I did not look forward to more amorous clinches, however responsive Cynthia was to them! George suggested that we could practice privately. Fortunately, our director didn't think we needed any more practice at embracing and passionately kissing.
The play's three performances went well. George's athletic supporter seemed to work. During the casts' celebration after the final performance, George embraced and kissed me on the cheek. Thereafter, our hugs became a habit. I admired people who were physically demonstrative of their affection and wanted to be more like them. I believed in loving thy neighbor and not just in the abstract.
On a warm May day, at the end of the semester, Mark had gone to a convention for several days, taking our only car. We'd forgotten that I had an appointment for physical therapy in the city 25 miles away! I called Marge, but George answered. Marge was away visiting her mother. George offered to drive me. I was in considerable need for the session, or I would have waited for a later appointment at the clinic in our town, so I agreed.
I dressed for exercises in mid-thigh white shorts and a sports brahalter top. I sighed at the reward I was giving George to ogle me. He smiled widely as I trotted down the long path from my house to his car. Too late, I realized that my breasts were bouncing and my nipples were rubbed erect. Like a gentleman, he opened the passenger door of his SUV for me. Not being a militant fem libber, I smiled and thanked him, until the idea came that he just wanted to admire my ass as I climbed up to the seat. George seemed elated to have me to himself for the long ride there and back. I held my breath a few times when the car veered while he ogled my legs, bared far up my thighs in sitting. Boys will be boys and men will be lustful, I thought.
Instead of remaining in the waiting room, George followed me, as if he were my husband, and watched me work out. He had brought a book but it was more of a prop. I hoped he didn't need it to conceal an erection! I felt better after the workout and massage. I couldn't help thinking that George would love to be massaging me.
During the drive home, I said,
"Thank you for taking up your time to drive me and wait for me!"
"The pleasure of your company is all the thanks I need!" He replied gallantly.
I felt that I should invite him into my home for a refreshment. Although I preferred not to be alone with a man, I guessed that I could handle George, just this once.
"Dear lady, I thought you'd never ask!"
We agreed on a Chablis, very chilled. Instead of the proper one-third of an 18 oz glass, George filled our glasses by about two-thirds! Did he realize that was uncouth? I cut some cheese and added some whole grain crackers to a large plate. We set our glasses and plate on the coffee table and ourselves on the couch. George gazed at me smiling all the while, as if enraptured. I pretended not to notice that sitting had caused my shorts to expose most of my thighs. An attempt to tug the shorts down would have been useless and only have increased the atmosphere of sex.
"Elizabeth, you have beautiful legs, such toned dancer's thighs!"
"Thank you. Compliments from others make me think that they do look nice."
I steered the conversation away from any suggestive subjects, like my body. One 5-ounce glass of wine is usually my limit, but I welcomed the cooling effect of the chilled liquid and alcohol distending my blood vessels to lose heat. By the time I'd drained the glass, I felt quite pleasantly high on it and George's admiration, which was not bad in my sweaty condition.
"George, I really need a bath! I don't mean to turn you out, and you know where the wine and cheese are."
He nodded and went into the kitchen while I went upstairs to the bathroom adjoining our bedroom. I liked the old, free-standing bathtub, some bath salts and a leisurely soaking. After about 15 minutes of soaking with my eyes closed, I opened them to see George in the doorway!
"I thought you might like another glass of wine." He leered.
I wished I had a bubble bath. George walked to my tub to hand me a glass of Chablis.
"George, this is inappropriate! I don't mind if you like to ogle me with my clothes on, but this view is reserved for my husband!"
He looked hard to see as much as he could through the tinted water, and his penis looked hard as well! I reached to accept the glass feeling one breast emerge.
