A New Woman

A NEW WOMAN



BOOK 1

The Decision




Lying, staring at fluffy white clouds in an otherwise clear blue sky she began to reminisce. Was she doing the right thing? What exactly was she doing? Feeling the tantalizing softness of long brown meadow grass against her clear skin, clad only in a vest and shorts, she felt the freedom she craved for years. A loyal wife and mother who had suppressed a wild side for the sake of marriage and children was now tasting the sort of freedom she thought prisoners released after a stretch must feel. Christ, she would have got less for murder, but had to admit that her New York home was far plusher than a cell at Rikers. It had not been all bad and there were wonderful times but there was always that little part of her anatomy that craved adventure and experimentation in everyday life and more especially in the bedroom. She had been coerced into thinking that these feelings had to be denied in order to sustain a happy life.

She managed to organize two weeks of solitude, against the backdrop of family and wifely duties, in order to help come to a decision concerning the course her life was going to take. She had to look deep in her heart and also into those suppressed feelings. Could she live the rest of her life in the same manner as the previous twenty five years? Smiling softly she started to analyze the shapes overhead and although confused and a little apprehensive she dared to dream.

Gazing at the shapes she began to wonder if everybody saw the same shapes when they looked at the clouds or was it an involuntary window into ones soul and self conscious. Were they portals to what the brain was thinking and the conscious self would never admit to, or were those soft contoured shapes just random figurations caused solely by weather patterns? Was God giving her a sign to explore her wilder side or was she losing her mind? Either way she was enjoying the pleasurable experience and could feel her skin alive under the minimal clothing. The soft grass against her bare calves and lower edges of her thighs enflamed her feelings even further.

The clouds drifted slowly across the sky keeping their shape, or at least the image being transmitted to her brain and from there journeying through her entire body remained the same. She would feel embarrassed to tell anyone and up until this moment felt she would never admit it to herself. They were sexual in nature and she realized she had always forced herself to find a different image in those shapes. To counteract the pain from the searing sun she squinted her eyes, but it gave such an exquisite pleasure that she continued to look upward. Through the watery haze the shapes remained the same.

Giving in to her body’s urges she rolled onto her tummy digging her elbows into the hard ground that lay beneath the soft grass and propped her head in her cupped hands. Staring at the brown barn in front of her, its doors swinging off the hinges and the ancient varnish almost completely flaked off she noticed a stir in her body. She gazed beyond the barn, with its roof far from intact, large holes separated by a few remaining slates and the joists exposed to the elements, to the snow capped mountains and more pleasure entered her consciousness. The structure of the building was sound and she imagined how beautiful this barn would look with some tender loving care and wondered could the wreck of a shell she felt she had become also be transformed with tender loving care?

Only in Alaska could you lie in the warmth of the radiant sun surrounded by lush grass and look at the snow capped Rocky Mountains in the distance. She tried to avoid it but even the mountains were lending themselves to images which stirred her imagination. Again the shapes seemed to be sexual in nature and she felt her body drop to the ground involuntarily and was lying prone in the soft lush grass pressing her breasts into the hard ground. She began to sway her hips from side to side feeling an electric pulse course through her body and became aware that her smile had become broader and that her body was moving and swaying without her control. Her head was now lying on her crossed arms. It felt good and the pleasure grew the harder she swayed. The grass brushed her inner thighs. She tugged her shorts up digging into the crevice of her ass and pussy to allow more of her thighs to be exposed to the grass. Her nipples came alive under the skimpy vest as she continued to thrust her body deeper and harder against the ground. The pleasurable view of the mountain tops added to her excitement and as hard as she tried she could not keep her eyes open any longer. Dropping her head she allowed her thrashing body to succumb to the inevitable.

Gasping and smiling with a hint of embarrassment she got to her knees and looked around in case anyone had ventured onto the private secluded farm. Feeling the wetness between her thighs as she stood, she walked unsteadily past the barn and entered the farmhouse feeling free and extremely excited about her future.



2

Old fashioned copper pots added to the authenticity of the rustic farmhouse but the price paid was inconvenience. Standing by the large, timber burning, black stove trying to cook some pasta caused Tessa to snap back to reality. Did she really have all the fight needed to walk away with nothing and start anew? She was aware that she was attractive and had many talents but the job she had was not highly paid and while sufficient to live on, she had become accustomed to a certain lifestyle over the last twenty years that her salary definitely would not allow. While dreaming she did not have to deal with the practicalities of her situation but now doing the basic chore of cooking dinner she could not help but think of the finances, and that was before delving into the emotional heartache that would be caused to so many people if she followed her dream. Was she capable of putting herself first? Throwing her head back and shaking out her beautiful brunette locks she decided not to worry yet, it was day one of fourteen and she had plenty time to make decisions. She knew herself and was confident by the end of the holiday she would have the right answer.

Placing pasta into salted boiling water she surveyed her surroundings in detail. The miniature windows behind the large white tub sink allowed little rays of light into the large stone tiled kitchen. Old fashioned prints of famous American landscapes adorned the walls, some of which brought back vivid memories. She walked to the picture which was most familiar. The mist sprayed outward and upward drenching onlookers standing on a platform suspended high in the air designed for viewing the beautiful sight. Although the picture was old, the yellows and reds of the raincoats were still clearly visible. Her mind began to drift to happier times. Tessa and her husband had traveled there for their first anniversary. She was six months pregnant with their first child at the time and enjoyed every second of the trip. She remembered how sexual she was when pregnant and how insatiable her appetite for not only food was. On that trip her husband responded to her every advance and it satisfied her needs even if it was missionary position only. She remembered his taut lean body lying on top of her, wrapping her legs tightly around his waist pulling him deeper inside her and panting, gasping until she came screaming which turned him on further. It was only when she started getting bigger in the final month of her pregnancy and missionary was impossible or at least as she remembered uncomfortable, that the first signs of future trouble arose. She had been lying in bed one night extremely horny and started to caress her husbands cock to life, feeling his response growing in her hand she lightly kissed his ear and whispered that they should try it doggy style. He immediately pushed her away, lightly because of her condition, but still rejecting her. She still felt that sting of rejection till this day. He followed this snub to her advances by screaming that she was a whore for thinking in such a way.

To this day and even now standing frozen in front of the picture she remembered the shame she felt as he got up from the bed grabbed his pillow and went to sleep on the couch. She also recalled the tears she shed that night and the torment it caused her wondering if he was right. Of course now in a different world only a couple of decades later she knew he was completely wrong and out of order, but then, as a young bride flushed with hormones of a first pregnancy, he had instilled enough doubt in her raw emotions and feelings to cause her a score and more years of anguish and doubt concerning her sexuality and her needs.

Remembering the pasta she returned to the stove and gave the pasta a quick stir. She had stopped at the village five miles down the road and hoped she had enough provisions to last the fortnight; she was going to need as much time alone as possible. The isolation gave her the time to explore her body even further, to use the toys she purchased the last two years without the chance of being caught, which was always a possibility when at home. She had to admit that she had become far more adventurous in the last two years but that it was only the beginning if she chose to follow her dreams. As she chopped ripe organic tomatoes to make a sauce she admitted that the idea of freedom was really appealing but also petrifying, it was a whole new world and she had barely dipped a toe in the water. This was no paddling pool she was going to enter but an ocean as deep as any in the world and also as engulfing. Could you stop at some point or would you have to continue delving deeper and deeper until there was no return? What safety nets could you cast? she was sure none of her friends would understand. Would she have to leave them all behind too, in order to immerse herself into this new world? Excitement, crippling fear and confusion were flying around her head as she chopped the tomatoes.

Running the taps in the sink she splashed water on her face and tried to snap out of the trance. The water dripped down her face trickling down her neck and into the crevice of her cleavage. Laughing she had to admit she had never been so turned on in her life and the strangest part was that she was alone and yet the feelings were the strongest she ever felt. She shook her head with a smile and finished chopping the tomatoes and mixing them into the drained pasta, adding some puree and some of the pasta juice she let her meal simmer as she tried to calm herself down from boiling over. Sitting at the large oak old fashioned table she grabbed her phone and rang her daughter, at least it would take away the sexual tension she felt at this moment. She was hungry and knew if she started with the toys she might not eat today. The excitement and expectations of what was to come later were overwhelming her. Calling her daughter she tried to ignore the growing wetness between her thighs.







3




Hanging up the phone she was again in turmoil but of a different kind. She spooned the pasta into a bowl and walked slowly to the table as if in a day dream. The chairs were old style matching the table, three slats of timber across the back while the straw covered seat scratched her bare soft skinned legs but not in a bad way. Everything today seemed to heighten her senses, from the lush grass, to the hard ground to the straw covered seat.

The conversation had not gone well. Her daughter, one of her four prides and joys, suspected something was wrong and pressed her on it. Margaret was away at collage but still was aware not everything was right between her parents. She questioned Tessa until she would admit that there were problems but refused to say what they were. How could she tell her daughter about it? She was used to using her older children as sounding boards over problems she encountered in everyday life and it always helped, but this, she could never discuss with them or any of her friends. She was alone with this decision. Margaret proceeded to point out her fathers’ good points which Tessa could not deny.


Sitting at the table slowly pushing the pasta around her plate Tessa had to admit her daughter was right. He was a wonderful provider and father. He took the girls to their respective colleges when they were scouting for the right schools, played ball with the boys at the weekends and worked extremely hard during the week to provide a very comfortable lifestyle for his wife and children. He was a good man but could a woman live without some sort of sexual excitement? For the last two and a half decades she had been faithful and vowed never to cheat on her husband, but could she really continue this existence when all she wanted was to be grabbed, thrown on a table, this table, her skirt lifted, her panties torn aside and for her man to eat her pussy ravenously as he flicked her clit with his tongue slowly fingering the ring of her virgin ass. With Paul it was never going to happen, he did not mind receiving oral but would never perform, God how she would love if he would. He never had and when she asked, he again treated her like a whore for asking.

What a mistake it was giving into her catholic values when they first met, not sleeping together until married was a monumental mistake. Had she succumbed to her carnal desires she might have found out the problems in their sex life before they were married. What bothered her most was his unwillingness to attempt to change. Jesus Christ almighty! She was offering herself to him as his personal toy, to do what he wanted, when he wanted and how he wanted, wasn’t that every man’s fantasy? Yet he was not interested.

Over the last two years dipping her toes into this somewhat alternative lifestyle she knew tens of men who would gladly never leave the house again if she was in there with them, one in particular and he was coming to New York in two weeks and how she wanted him. What she really wanted she had to admit was for her husband to take only half the interest in her that this stud did, but there were too many attempts and rejections for that to happen anymore. Eventually you had to give in to the inevitable and she had stopped trying. Over the last two years she got her pleasure in other ways.

Spooning a mouthful of sauce covered pasta into her mouth, chewing gently she began to wonder how this new man ate his pasta, was it with a side of pussy she thought to herself smiling. God she wanted him night and day, thought about him at work, at home, doing the laundry, filling the dishwasher, in her dreams and the first thought she had in the mornings was of him. She would then be snapped back to reality turning over seeing her husband lying next to her uninterested in anything she would offer.

How many mornings had she woken up soaking wet, mouth tingling with passion, only to be given a peck on the cheek before he left the matrimonial bed and went to the en-suite? She usually satisfied herself thinking of her friend as she listened to the shower and prayed that one day she would be in there with her friend. It was now a real possibility and it terrified her, which emotion was stronger, fear or excitement? She could not answer, that was what these two weeks were for.

Filling her mouth with the last morsel of food the enormity of her task hit her again. Day one of her holiday, she had cum but her mind had been driven in a hundred different directions, she hoped that it would get easier. Standing up, pushing herself sharply away from the table Tessa brought the bowl to the sink and promised herself to stop thinking for the rest of the night and enjoy the solace and freedom. She walked out onto the little porch and watched the descending sun disappear from the horizon behind the snow capped mountains and the blazing red sky begin to turn black. What a beautiful place she had chosen for this monumental decision. Whatever she decided there was no going back and she would have to live the rest of her life with this decision. Returning to the kitchen she cleared away the dishes and began to wash them at the sink. The water running through her fingers reminded her of the day that Paul came home with a brochure for new kitchens. Her husband always tried to make her life easier and would often arrive home with the newest household gadget or appliance to help her keep the house. He really was a wonderful man and she was sure she loved him but the sexual side of their relationship, or lack of, was taking a heavy toll on her. Was she asking for too much? Should she just accept it for what it was and keep suppressing her urges, or take a risk and give up some creature comforts? Could she risk the wrath of her grown up children to follow her heart? She needed answers which nobody could give, she needed to look deep and find the answer herself.

Was she already in a relationship with this new man? Could she reject his advances after he flew thousands of miles, uprooting himself from his own environs to be with her? They had been discussing meeting for over a year and while a holiday romance would satisfy most women, she had to admit she wanted more and that it would not be enough. She had got to know him in everyway possible apart from physical but through different methods was fully aware that it would be exciting, adventurous and definitely not a let down. Was she actually in love with someone she had never met, and if so could she admit it to herself not to mind anybody else especially him. After drying the dishes and replacing in the antique cupboard she went to her bedroom to unpack and see the bedroom for the first time. Turning off the light she left the dark kitchen and strolled into the dim lit room where her paraphernalia that had kept her sane the last two years waited to be released.




4




The hand-knitted quilt was testament to the rest of the house. Looking at the different patterns sewn together she imagined a simpler time when women folk got together and over a long period of time bonded and discussed their many triumphs and failures, problems and solutions. She wondered if any of the women who contributed to this quilt thought in the same way she did. Were these women sexually liberated in private even though they couldn’t declare it publicly? Had anything changed? Here she was a century later and unable to air her problem in public. Had society moved on enough to speak about ones sexual needs? Not in her circle it hadn’t, but thanks to the revolution in telecommunications she was able to make contact with like minded people, even if it was anonymously for the most part.

So far she was able limit her level of involvement but the time was coming where she may not have control anymore. Did she want control? Was it not freedom she craved, to be able express herself how she felt fit and not give into the norms of society. Rules set by people adamant on fighting sexual revolution as much as possible. Christ they were still trying to stop gay marriage, how long before they would accept the alternative lifestyles she was thinking of entering into? Not in her lifetime, she was sure. It had been bad enough being unable to talk about her frustrations in the matrimonial home but even her colleagues and normal friends wouldn’t understand. If she even hinted at this new lifestyle they would shun her. Did not matter, it was all hypothetical; these were conversations she would never have with friends and family and was not sure she possessed the courage needed for such an enormous change anyway.

She stared again at the different patterns trying to interpret the story being told on the quilt. The individual stitches clearly visible when examined in detail but invisible when looked at from a distance. The single squares with their landscape portraits told the story of the seasons. Different fruits and trees, Yellows, greens, reds, blues and browns signified the changes. Foods for different celebrations were also entwined in the correct season reminding her of the Christmases, thanksgivings, christenings she had celebrated with her friends and family. Could she really give all that up for sexual freedom? Would an affair not be better, was it the lesser of two evils? What would hurt her family and husband more, a string of men she could never commit to, they would always be second to family, or just leave and find that man or woman who could quench her thirst and feed her desires.


She pulled back the quilt and folded it neatly with great care and respect for the work involved in creating such a beautiful piece of craftwork. Revealing scratchy cotton sheets she removed them from the bed. Opening her suitcase she took out her satin sheets. It was the only household comfort she brought with her, needing the silky softness to sleep at night and the deep purple color turned her on sexually. The softness of the sheets stimulated the contours of her body as they slinked around her skin and the deep purple excited her mind. She did not know where this sexual fascination with the color purple came from but there was something which was usually some shade of purple that she found very stimulating and she craved to lick it and envelop it in every orifice. If she chose freedom there was one particular purple head she was sure would enter every orifice and give her the pleasure she longed for. Spreading the sheets on the bed she noticed again how wet she was. Finishing dressing the bed she placed the soft feather stuffed authentic pillows into the modern satin covers and replaced the quilt on the bed. She left the bedroom and went and ran herself a bath.

Taps running, water cascading, watching the suds fill the porcelain freestanding tub she longed to immerse herself. She loved the bath, its freedom from being encased like all modern baths symbolized her own new found freedom. The four curved and carved brass legs were shone lovingly by the owners of this beautiful farmhouse. There wasn’t a mark and considering their age this was remarkable. The tub itself was equally sparkling and it was obvious that the owners of this beautiful piece cared for it lovingly. A small window with real glass, not the modern frosty glass usually used for bathrooms, allowed the bright moonlight flood through, filling the bathroom with a dim but sensual glow. She returned to the bedroom retrieved some candles in little silver holders and placed them strategically around the room. She had other candles but she used those for other purposes.

She slowly removed her tight fitting vest revealing an ample bosom. Her breasts she had to admit were busty and she would consider herself buxom. She liked to lick her nipples to prove how ample they were and this also stimulated her nipples. She cupped her breasts in her hands and gently caressed them twisting her hardening nipples between thumb and forefinger. She had learned some wonderful techniques in the art of self satisfaction since beginning this journey two years ago and while it was nowhere near as good as the real thing, the people and in particular one person had helped her considerably without demanding anything in return. She unbuttoned her shorts and left them fall to the floor. Stepping out of the shorts she examined her whole body. She had to admit she looked great, ok she could lose a little around her tummy but what mother of four children could say different. Her bosom, long legs, tight shaven pussy and beautiful full ass certainly made up for that little bit of extra. She was gazed at by men when out on the town and plenty had tried to interest her but she never succumbed. She turned to examine her ass and was not surprised men even younger ones liked to walk behind her. Yes she had to admit for her age she was a remarkable looking woman and had the imagination and the desire to fulfill any mans fantasy.


Leaving the mirror behind she slowly lowered herself into the warm soothing water feeling the sensations run through her body as she immersed herself. Tessa closed her eyes trying to forget everything apart from the ripple of the water and the glow of candles throughout the darkened room.







5




Tightening the belt of her silk robe she went to her case sitting on the bed. She had purposefully left her laptop at home but now looking into the case regretted that decision. She could do with some instruction using the toys that now stared up at her from their position in the case. Using them herself was always satisfying but nothing like the sensuous feelings that ran through her body when she did what he told her to do. He was able to make her do things that she would never dream of doing herself. She loved watching his tight body as he slowly stroked his cock and gave her orders. She realized there was nothing she wouldn’t do for him, both to give him pleasure, but also trusted him enough to know that he was thinking of her pleasure more than his own. The last time they had cammed she had admitted that it was the first time she had been completely satisfied in years and he had not even touched her, she had cum three times doing as he told her. She thought of him as a drug, would this narcotic have the same devastating effect on her as other recreational drugs had on people or would the highs just keep on coming and getting better? Thinking about the future terrified her but thinking about him and his strong toned body excited her. Unawares to herself she had reached inside her robe and was fondling her breasts and rolling her erect nipples between her fingers. Recalling the first conversation she had with him she laid back on the bed. She tried to remember his instructions word for word.

Opening her robe, head lying softly on the feathered pillows, she continued fondling her breasts, cupping her ample tits in her hands, pushing them together closing the crevice. Gently she tweaked her nipples, rolling them softly between her fingers. Feeling her nipples hard and erect she ran the palm of her hand slowly across her nipples feeling them rise further to her soft touch. Thinking of his 9 inch hard cock as she traced one hand down her tummy, she continued to caress her breasts with one hand, the other running softly up and down her body from her cleavage to her naval and back up again. Crossing her naval softly teasing from hip to glorious hip as he had called them. Enjoying the sensations running through her body she remembered doing this for the first time for him without knowing what he looked like and now the sensations were even stronger as she now had a mental image of his body ingrained in her mind. Trying to stop herself moving too quickly she told herself she needed to continue teasing just like he had made her wait. She slowly let her fingers descend to her inner thighs gently moving up and down slowly. Barely touching skin, fingers moved up and down her thighs softly from her knee to the lace of her panties. She had put the lacy string on after her bath to make this experience as authentic as she could. He had been in no rush for her to remove her panties. He was a sensual lover on cyber and she could only imagine how good he was going to be in real life. He was no wam, bam thank you mam kind of guy. He was so different to most of the guys she had met on the site. He really did care about her pleasure as much if not more than his own.

Using her nails, lightly scratching her soft supple skin she moved up one thigh and slowly down the other. She felt wetness between her thighs but refused to touch. Getting on all fours on the bed she felt the soft quilt under her knees. She felt so turned on it was driving her crazy. All she wanted to do was finger her shaven pussy fast and furious until she came, but knew from experience that if she stuck to her memory of his instructions it would be far better. She smiled at how liberated she was when she first shaved it. For the outside world she was the normal self restraint professional woman, but on the inside she was a raging sex goddess trying to find some release. Her first feelings of liberation came when she shaved her pussy fully like one of the beautiful women she had seen in a pornographic movie she had watched. It was long before her cyber experiences started and teasing herself realized all this had happened in two years. It began when she watched her first porn movie, then she shaved her pussy before finding a sex site and chatting to strangers on the net, she had even performed on camera for her special one.

Kneeling across the bed propping herself up on one hand she reached back and started tapping her pussy gently openhanded. The thrill of feeling like a sex slut ready to do anything exhilarated her. Tap tap tap feeling the wetness through the material of her panties. She became aware of how wet she was when little drops flowed down her inner thighs and her fingertips were moist from her panties. Tap tap teasing further until she had to do more.

Staying on all fours she kicked of her panties and recalled how he had gone silent at this stage driving her crazy. He had got her all worked up and crazy to find out what to do next and she had typed begging messages for him to answer her. Up until that moment she had just typed the moaning noises she was expressing but she would go crazy if he had not come back. After a minute, just as she was about to give up he answered her and she knew then that he owned her.

She dropped to her tummy and squirmed around the soft bed like he had instructed her to. She again felt the friction on her tits and pussy as he said she would. Grinding harder into the quilt she pounded the bed with her tits and pussy. The burning on her nipples stimulated her further and the movement of her hips grinding her pussy into the quilt caused her to moan loudly. She had completely lost herself in the moment. Harder she squirmed around the bed. Her body and head totally alive. She felt every touch of bare skin on the quilt. The harshness of the movements and the softness of the quilt contrasted to cause her body to be set alight, burning with passion.

She grabbed a pillow and getting on her knees she looked at the mirror in the room as she placed the pillow between her soaking thighs. She had thought she would scream when she did this for him the first time but couldn’t as she was in her own bed at home with the kids and Paul downstairs, she did not have this problem now and let a scream escape her lips as she watched herself pinching her nipples tightly between her thumb and forefingers and fucking the pillow hard. She grinded her wet shaven pussy into the pillow faster, twisting her nipples harder, screaming at the top of her lungs needing more. She looked at herself and felt that beautiful naughty feeling and imagined sucking his cock, deep-throating it and gagging as she did this to herself. Unable to take anymore she got on her back and furiously rubbed her clit as she finger-fucked her drowned pussy harder with the other hand. Faster, harder, deeper, she screamed out his instructions as she did it intensifying the stimulation. As her fingers went deeper and her other hand went faster on her clit her screams became louder, her legs started shaking involuntarily and she came screaming clamping her thighs tightly shut trapping her fingers deep inside her. Gasping and breathing hard she followed his final instructions by slowly opening her legs and softly stimulating her clit until her eyes started to close and smiling went to sleep wet and happy.