My name is Sophie and I am 30 years old. I guess my friends and colleagues would describe me as a ‘nice’ and possibly ‘mousy’. I own and manage a small clothing shop selling clothes to middle-aged, middle class women. My hair is brown and worn short; I have freckles and wear glasses. I’m 5’ 6” with a slim, almost boyish figure. My boobs are small and my pubic hair dark and quite thick. I have good legs and I think I hold myself. I look much younger than I am and sometimes get asked for ID when I go for a drink in a pub.

I have been married for ten years to an accountant ten years my senior. I do not think I married him for love so much as security and to please my parents. My parents treat him as the son they never had, I suppose. We are childless although we have tried to get pregnant we have never managed it. Our doctor suggested we go for tests but my husband refused to believe there was something wrong with him. I was kind of relieved, as the thought of giving up work to look after kids actually fills me with dread!

Sex with my husband is fairly regular although it is dull and we always do ‘it’ in the same way. Every Saturday night we go to bed at 10 pm and make love in the missionary position with the lights off. It is always the same. We get in bed and he moves his hands over my body and I lie there submissively. His hands squeeze my breasts, play with my nipples briefly then pull my nightgown up around my waist. He will use one finger to penetrate me, moving it in and out of me until I am wet enough, then he will pull his pyjama bottoms down to his knees and move over me. I reach between us and guide his penis inside me. He grunts away for two to three minutes before he finishes. He will kiss me once on the lips and thank me, then he will roll over on to his side, pull his pyjamas up, and go to sleep. I usually go into the bathroom to clean up and he will be asleep by the time I am back.

When we were first married, we used to make love naked with the hall light on so we could just about see each other. In the beginning, I would play with his penis but he found that he could not control himself if I did that and quite often it was over before we had really got started. I also used to moan as he penetrated and moved in me but he found that distracting and often lost his erection. The same thing would happen if I moved underneath him or tried to wrap my legs around him. I soon learnt to ‘lie back and think of England’. I pretended that it didn’t matter and sex was not that important.

I have never had an orgasm with him and I have never been with any other man. For a long time, I never longed for any of these things and was content with my steady, reliably dull husband. I liked having coffee mornings with my dull, middle class friends. I liked my business and my steady clients. I liked my smart, tidy but dull clothing. I liked my sensible shoes and boring car and my holidays spent touring castles and gardens. Just before I turned 30 a series of incidents made me realise that I was bored with my life and needed some excitement.

The first incident happened when I was walking through the park one summer Sunday morning, as is my habit. It was fairly early, around 8 am, as I have a habit of waking with the sun during the summer. My husband was visiting his elderly parents for the weekend and I had been unable to find somebody reliable to look after the shop on the Saturday so had not been able to go. I employ several part time staff in my shop, but on the Saturday the only people really willing to work are teenage girls and you cannot leave them in charge. Not that they cannot do the job, but my clients expect to see someone older in charge.

The park was deserted apart from one couple walking in the same direction as me. They were about 200 yards away and both wearing jogging gear. They were arm in arm and constantly stopping to kiss each other. I stopped and sat down on a bench for a few minutes to look at the view over the park and when I stood up the couple had vanished. I walked on to where they had been and jumped when I heard moaning coming from nearby bushes. My cheeks blushed a deep red when I realised what I was hearing. I hurried on for a couple of paces then stopped. I was still blushing but my curiosity was really getting the better of me. I slowly walked back to where I had heard the moaning and listened.

"Oh yes, that’s it baby, right there," came a whispered female voice from the bushes.
I blushed even more and turned, intending to carry on with my walk but I could not move my legs. I looked over to the bushes trying to see where the couple had gone. The bushes were thick rhododendrons and I could not see anything through them. I found myself walking towards them, my heart in my mouth. I could not believe what I was doing, but seemed powerless to stop myself. I reached the bushes and listened again. I could hear heavy breathing and the occasional moan but no words.

I leaned forward and parted the leaves on the bushes and saw more leaves. I mentally laughed at myself and realised I had been holding my breath. I breathed out quietly and then jumped as a louder moan sounded from deeper in the bushes. I looked up and down the bush looking for a way to see what was happening, I also checked the park to make sure no one was around to see what I was doing. The park was still deserted, but I noticed a bench half hidden by the over grown bushes and walked over. I stood on it and peaked over the top of the bush.

The couple were on a strip of grass behind the bushes, hidden from the rest of the park by a low stonewall. They were around my age, early 30’s and both naked. The woman was on all fours with her bottom stuck in the air. The man was kneeling behind her with his face buried between her buttocks. One hand was holding on to her thigh and the other was on his penis, his hand moving up and down as he made love to her with his mouth. I almost fell off the bench in a mixture of shock and surprise. I steadied myself and made sure that I was below their line of sight should they look up and watched. The woman began to rock her hips backwards and forward into the man’s face and her moaning increased. Finally she gave a loud cry and stopped moving. The man never stopped his movements until she finally fell forward and pulled her bottom away from him.

I leant back again and lost sight of them, frightened that they were going to turn around and stop me watching. I listened, trying to control my breathing and my pounding heart.

‘Fuck me, Billy!’ I heard the woman demand breathlessly.

I slowly leant forward again until I could see the couple. I was just in time to see the man, who was now kneeling behind the woman, slide his penis into her and begin thrusting. He reached over her back, running his nails down it as they got into a rhythm. Thrusting his cock into her I suddenly thought, blushing bright red. My husband and I had never used vulgar words in front of each other. In fact, I never used vulgar words in front of anyone and could not ever remember thinking anything like that.

As I watched and thought about the word cock, I suddenly thought ‘he’s fucking her from behind with his cock’. I almost laughed out loud at the thought and had to clamp my hand over my mouth. I calmed down but the words cock and fuck were bouncing around in my head.

The woman began to moan loudly again, forcing herself on to his cock with her cunt (another rude word bouncing around in my head). The man was breathing hard now, muttering that he was close. I watched enthralled as his movements sped up until I could hear the noises his cock was making in the woman’s wet cunt. I realised that my own sex (cunt) was wet, too. Again, I had to shove my hand in my mouth as the man pulled his cock out of the woman and sprayed her back and bottom with semen. I had to duck back as the woman got off her knees to face the man, but chanced a quick glance back and saw her head down in his groin with his cock in her mouth. My sex twitched as I watched her suck his prick clean and my face felt like it was burning hot. I had to climb off the bench and sit down to recover. I sat and stared into space, the images of the couple making love (fucking) buzzing around my mind with the rude words until I heard them moving about getting dressed. I made myself stand and hurried back to the path and carried on my walk as quickly as possible.

I got home and stood in our living room in a daze wondering what to do. The images and rude words still buzzed in my head and my loins felt like they were on fire. I walked upstairs and ran a bath, stripping off my walking clothes. I wandered around the bedroom naked, my nipples were erect and aching and my vagina (it’s a cunt my mind shouted) felt like it was throbbing. I needed to see myself and opened the wardrobe door and looked at myself in the full-length mirror mounted on the inside of the door. I expected to see something different but my normal body stared back at me.

My nipples were like hard little bullets, but apart from that I looked no different to usual. I walked through to the bathroom and turned off the taps then let the water out without thinking. I walked out of the bathroom and into the spare room and looked out of the window. I became aware that if the neighbours opposite were about and looking out of their rear windows they would be able to see me. This thought made me excited and I looked over the gardens to see if anyone was watching. I could not see anyone, but opened the windows and let the slight breeze blow over my naked body.

I was getting more excited with the thought that someone might see me and walked downstairs, through the kitchen and dining room and into the conservatory. I walked around in there for a couple of minutes, opening the doors to let the cool morning breeze in. My nipples were aching even more now and I ran my hands over them sending shivers down my spine. I had never felt anything when my husband touched them, but now it was like they were connected directly to my vagina. I walked out of the conservatory, back upstairs and into the spare bedroom again playing with my nipples all the way.

The bed has several large corduroy cushions on it for decoration and I pulled one into the centre of the double bed and, without really thinking what I was doing, straddled it. The rough material pushed against my labia as I lowered myself on to it and began to rock backwards and forwards with the cushion clamped between my thighs. My hands returned to my nipples and began to pull them in time to my rocking. My vagina felt like it was connected to the electricity mains and I could feel jolts running up my back to my shoulders. The build up was immense and I was feeling like I was going to have to stop soon as I could not take it anymore. My pussy and my nipples seemed to be darting shocks of pleasure up an down my spine between themselves.

With no warning I came and cried out with shock and pleasure as my first real orgasm ever hit me. I toppled on to the bed face down with the cushion still loosely held between my shaking thighs. My nipples ached where I had been pinching them and my spine felt more liquid than solid. I was breathing heavily and licking my lips almost uncontrollably. I moved the cushion against my pussy again and another wave of pleasure hit me, making me call out. I rolled on to my back, the cushion falling away from me, and lay there gazing at the ceiling with my legs spread wide. I got my breath back after several minutes and managed to get off the bed and stand up. I shut the window, still unmindful of the possibility that someone could be watching me and ran the bath again.

I had just masturbated for the first time in my life. I had always been told that ‘nice girls don’t do that’ and had kind of believed it. Now I had done it and experienced an orgasm, something I had never had having sex like a ‘nice’ girl; I could not believe that it was a bad thing. I lay in the warm, soapy bath slowly and gently moving my hands over my body and thought about everything that had happened. I thought about my husband and how he must never find out about this. I was actually quite ashamed of what I had just done but that just made it even more exciting for me for some reason.

I finished my bath and went about the rest of my day as if nothing had happened. I did not feel any desire to masturbate again and the rude words that had been buzzing around my head had faded into the background. My husband arrived home in a good mood later that evening and we went to our favourite pub for dinner. That night we made love in the same way we always had, but when he was asleep I slipped into the spare room, where I sometimes slept when it was too hot to share a bed anyway, and slipped off my nightgown.

I was nervous this time as my husband was in the house. I remembered that the bed squeaked loudly so I put the cushion on the floor. I felt silly in the dark and switched on the bedside light then checked the door was properly shut again. The built-in wardrobes in the spare room have mirrors for doors and as I returned to the cushion I caught site of my naked self. On impulse, I placed the cushion so I could watch myself in the wall of mirrors. I felt myself getting hot and wet as soon as I straddled the cushion. I played with my nipples and felt them harden under my finger tips. I shuddered as I gently pinched my right nipple between two fingernails and felt the start of the fire in my pussy. I rocked slowly back and forth on the cushion watching myself all the time in the mirror. The corduroy covering teased my lips and clitoris and I got myself in the perfect position to bring myself to cum.

My orgasm was a little more restrained this time because I had to keep quiet but it was no less pleasurable for that. When I had finished, I lay on the bed in the dark for an hour just running my fingers up and down my body and enjoying the feeling of nakedness. Then I put my nightgown back on and went back to bed with my husband like a dutiful wife.