I wasn’t a virgin when I met Colin, the man who went on to be my husband but I might as well have been. My sex life up till then had been sparse, to say the least. At twenty-five, the number of sex partners in my life could be counted on one hand and still have room for the number of orgasms I had experienced.

My mother always said I was far too picky. That might have been true but my rather chubby body hadn’t attracted a great many men for me to be picky about.

Fortunately, meeting Colin changed all that. A good ten years older than me and with a son already in his teens, he was my boss at the office where I worked as a Personal Assistant. Quite good looking, divorced, mature and reliable, he had taken me under his wing and had helped me grow up both professionally and personally for a couple of years before he eventually seduced me and we became an ‘item’.

This fateful event took place during a large conference held by one of our most important customers. Colin and I had been part of a group from our business that had attended. After one of the evening sessions, we had all had a few too many after-dinner drinks in the bar then gone on to plan the following day’s activities and… well, suffice it to say that I had woken the following morning naked in his bed.

That’s not to say that I was an easy lay; far from it. When Colin’s erect penis first penetrated my body he joined a very select group of men and I’m sure my inexperience showed clearly. I had of course been flattered by his unexpected attention and had been ridiculously naive too so had been ill-equipped to withstand the seductive onslaught of an older, more worldly-wise man.

Fortunately, he was also a man with morals; rather than simply dumping me after our one-night-stand, we started a relationship which blossomed quickly into genuine romance. Of course, this romance required us to spend a lot of time in bed together so as my confidence as a woman improved, so did my proficiency as a lover and to begin with, our sex life was very active, adventurous and fulfilling.

Colin and I were married nine months later, much to my mother’s relief in a quiet ceremony in the local registry office. My mother would have preferred a big church affair and a younger, less divorced partner for her only daughter but Colin managed to charm her and my two older brothers as effectively as he had charmed me and we became a happy extended family.

My new husband’s ex-wife Cindy had effectively broken off all communication with him. Bitter about the divorce – although according to Colin it was she who had been unfaithful several times - she now lived with his teenage son Richie over four hundred miles away in Scotland and had definitely not been invited to the ceremony.

Although there were plenty of photographs of his son around the house, there were none at all of his ex-wife and Colin was very reluctant to talk about her so I didn’t ask many questions. His mother suffered no such reticence; according to her Cindy had ‘gone crazy’ when Colin had thrown her out of the house and commenced divorce proceedings after her third rather public affair. She had pleaded for him to take her back then, when he refused, had harassed and stalked him until finally he had been forced to get a Court Order to keep her away from both him and their house.

Unfortunately for my husband, this hadn’t changed the ruling on custody so their son Richie still lived with his mother and hadn’t even seen his father for a long time. He hadn’t even replied to the invitation to our wedding so to our joint relief, the day was unencumbered by the ‘baggage’ of Colin’s previous life.

Life as a newly-wed was wonderful, living together in Colin’s large, four-bedroom house – our house I should say – and growing closer every day. I was promoted and transferred to a different department at work which made life easier too both in terms of money and of course, not being my husband’s PA anymore.

At first, our sex life soared; becoming more adventurous and energetic by the week but that intensity couldn’t last and like so many couples, by the end of our first year of marriage, bed was in danger of becoming a bit dull and routine.

In contrast, now we were officially a couple, our social life had really blossomed. Successful couples like to mix with other successful couples so by our first wedding anniversary we were an established part of the social scene in our town.

An obligatory part of ‘fitting in’ was membership of the local Sports Club where members and their families could play tennis, swim, use the extensive gym or go to exercise classes. I quickly grew to love all of these but especially the exercise classes where I could work out and have coffee with friends afterwards.

The truth was that neither Colin nor I were very happy with our bodies, especially now we saw each other naked every day. My bottom had always been larger than it should have been and my tummy could have been a lot flatter. Being so much older than me, Colin had to work harder to stay fit so we promised each other we would stick to our goals and, after few false starts, it began to work.

Within three months I had dropped a dress size and was well on my way to dropping another one; Colin had toned up nicely with a firm, flat stomach and strong, well-shaped shoulders and arms. I felt more confident wearing shorter, tighter clothes; my husband wore close-fitting polo shirts and chinos; we both spent more time in the club’s pool. I even felt happy in a bikini for the first time in my life.

The effect on our sex life was profound too. More confident in my body I became much more confident in bed which made my husband very happy indeed. We tried new positions and new locations; we even began to introduce fantasies into our lovemaking, talking about anything from swinging to swapping to me cheating with strangers… Anything that felt right at the time; nothing that was remotely serious.

It was in one of my exercise classes that I first met Lou, a smart, slim, well dressed and well-toned brunette a good ten years older than me. During a ‘spinning’ class, she had been on the bike next to mine. We had exchanged looks of exhaustion and appreciation of the class leader throughout the session so it was only natural that we should have a coffee and a chat in the club’s café afterwards.

The two of us hit it off straight away; we had so much in common but I was running a dozen years behind her. She too had married an older man with a teenage son; she too had been a late starter; she too had been unhappy with her body most of her life and, now divorced, was now trying to get into shape for what she hoped might still be the love of her life – if she could find him.

In an attempt to achieve the perfect body – or as close to it as a woman her age could manage – she was always on the look-out for new ideas, fads and short-cuts. She had tried every diet plan I had heard of and many I hadn’t; she used personal trainers, therapists and counsellors; she had endured interferences from laser eye surgery to colonic irrigation.

Some things had worked; most hadn’t but this lack of success seemed merely to convince her to look harder and in more places.

Though no longer married she, her ex-husband and stepson had lived as a family for over ten years. It was only once the son had left home in his twenties and her husband had decided to ‘trade his older wife in for a younger model’ that things had gone badly wrong. They had separated then split permanently. Fortunately, she said, the settlement had been rather generous hence her ability to move to our town and start life again.

I found Lou to be a bright, cheerful companion and after a second coffee, we agreed to meet in town and do a bit of shopping together that Saturday afternoon.

We quickly became firm friends.

For the next six months, life was good. I dropped that second dress size and with Lou’s guidance, began to dress in a way that, she said, was more appropriate for my age and flattered my new figure. Skirts became shorter still, heels a little higher, tops a little tighter even occasionally allowing a little of my new, toned tummy to be seen. Even leggings made a first appearance in my wardrobe.

Colin was very pleased with the ‘new me’ but did on occasion have to advise me to dress a little more conservatively if we were going to a more formal social or work event. He himself had been promoted twice and was now very senior in the firm which kept him at work for longer. This gave me the opportunity to spend more time in the gym and, thanks to his increased income, to reduce my own working hours and spend more time shopping.

But it wasn’t all good news. The extra hours of Colin’s work and the tiredness they produced inevitably put a strain on our sex life which sadly, after months of increased excitement became rather dull again.

“It’s normal, Linda,” Lou assured me over a third glass of chardonnay, perched on bar stools in our favourite wine bar one Thursday night. “These things change. Sometimes you feel up, the next moment you’re down. My sex life, for instance; it’s always been up and down.”

I exploded into laughter, spilling white wine down my overly short skirt and onto my bare thighs. Realising what she had just said, Lou fell into fits of giggles too.

“It’s true, though,” she eventually continued when we had both recovered our breath. “It will probably come back. You just need a bit of stimulus to help things along.”

She didn’t go on to explain what that stimulus might be so instead I tried a different tack.

“How about you?” I asked.

Lou had never mentioned having a regular man in her life. She had told me about her online dating experiences; it was enough to put me off men forever but she seemed prepared to persevere. No man she had met had been worth introducing to me yet but I wasn’t so sure none had been worth having sex with.

Occasionally I wondered what my friend would be like in bed. She was so energetic and adventurous in all other aspects of her life, it was inconceivable she would be anything but an active and demanding lover.

“Me?” she replied disingenuously.

I gave her a disbelieving look.

“How’s your love life going? Any prospects on the horizon?”

Lou thought for a moment then frowned.

“My love life? Its’ become a bit mechanical these days.”

I wondered how this could be; surely you needed a long term partner for sex to become so dull – as my own had now become.

“Mechanical?” I asked innocently.

There was a bright twinkle in her eyes as she drained the bottle into our glasses and looked directly at me.

“I mean Linda, these days I mostly have sex with machines!”

It was a full five minutes before I could speak properly. God alone knows what the bar’s other clients thought of the pair of us.

***

“I thought he’d broken off all contact with you.”

My husband and I were having dinner at home the following week. Colin had just opened a letter that had arrived during the day and which had shocked both of us.

It had been from his son – my stepson, Richie – who was now eighteen and apparently about to start college in the town where we lived. He had written to his father out of the blue asking if he could come and live with us for a few days while he settled into the area and found somewhere to live.

“I thought he had cut us off too,” Colin said astounded. “This is a complete surprise.”

It looked it. Although he had always put on a brave face, I knew how much being denied contact with his only son had hurt my husband. Cindy was apparently a very bright woman and had been very adept at exploiting the subtle differences between English and Scottish law, thereby avoiding all attempts at forcing contact legally.

But now he was eighteen, Richie couldn’t be prevented from contacting his father wherever he lived and had done so very soon after his birthday. My husband was happier than I had seen him in a long time.

“Would you mind if he stayed a few days?” Colin asked me uncertainly.

I thought for a few minutes. In truth, now things were going so well the last thing our marriage needed was a spotty teenage boy throwing a spanner in the works but the look on my husband’s face tore at my heart.

“He can stay as long as he wants,” I agreed more cheerfully than I felt. “He’s your son so he’s part of our family.”

“You really mean that?” he asked, as if unable to believe his ears.

“Of course. He’s welcome anytime.”

***

“Well, you’ll have to be a lot more careful around the house,” Lou advised seriously.

We were having coffee in the Sports Club the following Saturday. I had just told her about my stepson’s impending arrival; to my surprise, she seemed quite concerned.

“What do you mean?” I asked naively.

She gave me a ‘don’t be stupid’ look.

“You’re a very good-looking girl and much closer in age to him than you are to your husband. His eyes will be all over you. Trust me, I know from experience.”

“What do you mean?”

“My husband’s son was about the same age when we started living together.”

“What happened?”

“Just be careful, that’s all!”

And that was all Lou would say on the matter.

***

A few weeks later, Richie arrived by train just before five o’clock on Friday afternoon.

My husband predictably was at work. Thanks to the boy’s mother being almost totally uncooperative with her ex-husband, the only pictures of him that we had in the house were well over five years old so I didn’t immediately recognise the tall, fit-looking boy I found standing on the porch when I opened the door.

“Mrs… um, Linda?” he asked, equally nonplussed and embarrassed.

“Richie?” I smiled, trying to hide my lack of recognition.

The boy smiled and nodded and I let him into the house. My stepson Richie simply towered above me, his shoulders and arms even better developed than his father’s, his tummy equally flat, his legs thick and strong.

But on his undeniably handsome face was the look of a child still, as if his body had gone ahead and developed itself without his mind having anything to do with it. The longer I looked at that face, the more I persuaded myself I could see his father’s presence but I have to confess it wasn’t immediately obvious.

I took him through to the kitchen and offered him a drink. He chose Diet Coke which of course we had in abundance. I took one for myself and we started to talk.

It was awkward at first; very awkward.

How had his journey been? Long but okay.

Was he looking forward to his course? Yes, very much.

What exactly was he going to study? Maths and Economics.

Did he want to follow in his father’s footsteps and go into business? It’s too early to say; he really didn’t know his Dad at all.

What was he into outside of work?

At this point Richie became animated. He was, he told me, very keen on martial arts and was training for the national championships in a few months’ time. He wanted to join a local club straight away and hoped I would be able to recommend a gym in which he could train.

At last, we were on safe ground. I told him all about the Sports Club to which so many of my friends belonged. The facilities really were excellent and, as his father’s son, he could get in on the back of our membership. This brought a smile to Richie’s face that spoke volumes; however mature his body might have been on the outside, my Stepson was still a teenage boy inside.

Indeed Richie had proved this throughout our conversation in that he seemed to have severe difficulty tearing his eyes away from my gym-clothed body. From the look on his face it was more in admiration than in lust so I didn’t take offence; rather it made me feel better about myself than I had in some time.

Still, I was relieved when we began to deal with some of the more practical issues.

What should he call me? Mum? Stepmum? We settled on Linda.

How much should he pay for his keep out of his student loan? Nothing; he was family and was very welcome.

Could he help out by doing work or jobs around the house? Maybe, but his studies must come first.

What I really wanted to ask was lots of detail about his mother, my husband’s ex-wife. In particular, I wanted to know why she had kept father and son apart for so very long. There were no photos of Cindy in the house, not even hidden in albums but from what my husband had said, she had been an attractive woman - if an unfaithful one.

It seemed Richie had inherited good looks from both his parents.

It was extraordinary to witness the reunion of father and son that evening when Colin came home from work. The emotions on both sides were high but it took a long time before they were able to relax enough to do more than just shake hands. At the first hug, I discreetly left them alone to get re-acquainted and began to cook the...