Looking back, it is easy to see how that holiday was going to change me; the stresses, the frustrations, the triggers and the opportunities were all there. It was like the planets aligning for some spectacular solar eclipse. But of course, all things are easy to see with hindsight.
The holiday was Tom's idea. He had to be in Sorrento for work but, being a pragmatist, he suggested that as I had more free time and we had fewer financial worries, I might like to accompany him. Sorrento; the most romantic and alluring city in the world, and he tempts me with time and money. Not that he was incapable of sweeping me off my feet; when we first met, he was constantly surprising me with flowers, silly gifts and the hottest love letters you can imagine, but I suppose that after thirty years of marriage and raising three kids, people change.
Please don't think that I am complaining. Tom is a good husband, and a perfect father. He has always been caring and supportive, and provided us all with a wonderful home and the security to live the lives we aspired to. Ever since reaching puberty, I dreamed of just being a mum; spending my time taking care of a house and children. Tom with his energy and hard work gave me that opportunity, and never questioned that it should be different. But now that the everyday pressures of cooking, cleaning and school runs were behind me, I felt that I needed more.
I have girlfriends, and when the last of the children went off to college, being fellow mums and in similar positions, they rallied into a support network. Our coffee mornings grew into lengthy lunches, organizing car share for our kids changed into organizing gym classes, and the occasional swapping of magazines spawned a fully fledged book club. We read mysteries, we read thrillers, we read avidly, and with each new book, we dissected and discussed.
I suppose that it was books that created the spark; the desire for some passion in my life. We of course read E. L. James. The trilogy had received too much publicity for any self respecting woman’s book club to ignore. I had no inclination to investigate BDSM or find out if I had a dark side, but it did make me wonder if there was more to sex than the rather perfunctory ritual that Tom and I now occasionally performed. Tom was the only man that I had ever been intimate with, and I had always been content that it should be remain so.
This yearning for something more did lead to my adding romance to my reading repertoire; not your everyday Mills and Boon, but books that explored the deeper side of relationships, particularly sexual relationships. Again, it is easy to see with hindsight how that was going to affect my behavior, even if I had not consciously decided I wanted to change.
We arrived in Sorrento late on Sunday. While I slept for most of the thirteen hour flight, Tom worked, reading through reports and making notes; getting ready for the hectic round of meetings that would occupy his week. He was enough of a gentleman to escort me to our first evening meal at our hotel, but he was understandably exhausted, so after we had eaten I made sure he got some much needed rest. I, however, was too excited to sleep and returned to the bar for a nightcap.
It was late October and the hotel relatively quiet. The waiter, who had been immensely attentive to Tom and I during our meal, now greeted me like a friend, and offered me a liqueur and coffee on the terrace. I found myself lost in the atmosphere, the sheer beauty of the place and the opportunity that I had been given to enjoy it. It felt as though everything that was missing from my life could come right in a place such as this.
That first evening had been rather cool. Monday however was much warmer. While Tom was out at meetings during the day, I occupied myself exploring the area close to the hotel, and relaxing by the pool. When Tom and I went for dinner that evening, I dressed in leggings and a short sleeved top. Antonio, the waiter, commented that I looked most beautiful. It had been years since I had been complimented like that, and it seemed to really hit home. I know that I blushed, but I enjoyed the attention. When Tom eventually retired to the room to make his conference call back to the office, Antonio again invited me to take drinks on the terrace.
After again becoming lost in the moment, I found myself standing at the edge of the terrace, sipping a glass of sweet orange liqueur. It was there, my back to the terrace and hotel that I suddenly became aware of someone standing closely behind me. I have no idea now why I did not turn. That would have been a more natural reaction, but I didn't. I just stood there enjoying the majesty of the view. Apart from the sound of distant waves breaking over the rocks, it was completely silent, and I sensed that there was no one else close by.
This person moved closer. Whether it was the combination of wine and liqueurs, or just the peaceful atmosphere, I will never know, but I had no sense of danger or fear. I felt perfectly relaxed. I could feel the warmth of another body near mine; such was the distance now between us. I think I actually closed my eyes.
The next thing I felt were lips; a kiss. The kiss was at first very tentative, but perhaps because there was no sense of rejection on my part, it was repeated more firmly, and slowly traced the contour of my neck from the hemline of my top to just below my ear. And that was it. I heard the brief sound of chatter from the restaurant spill out as the terrace door opened and closed, and then I was left alone in the silence. Being a woman in her middle years, I have of course been kissed many times, and by many people; friends, family, and even the occasional flirtatious kiss at parties, but this was different; the sensation lingered and made my skin tingle.
As I passed through the restaurant I looked carefully at the men. Antonio wished me ‘buona notte’, an elderly gentleman looked up from his dinner with his wife and nodded to me, and the young barman smiled. None seemed to acknowledge what had just happened outside, yet at the same time, all of them did. I felt confused and embarrassed, but at the same time, incredibly excited. I was sexually aroused.
When I got to our room, I feigned needing the bathroom so that I could have some privacy, and then did something I have not done since I was in my teens. I pulled my leggings and panties off, sat on the toilet, and played with myself. Since having children, I have usually been too dry and found masturbating difficult, but this time there was no discomfort, and I was able to make myself cum very quickly.
Tuesday followed much the same pattern. Tom was able to walk round the town with me in the morning, and I spent the afternoon reading and relaxing. It was a little overcast and cool, and I was happy to wrap up in my jeans and cardigan. In the evening we went to a beautiful local restaurant that had been recommended, and then returned to the hotel for Tom to make his conference call. I headed to the Terrace for a nightcap. I have to confess that thoughts of that kiss and all that had followed had stayed with me throughout the day; thoughts that ranged from what on earth was I thinking, right through to, will it happen again?
When I stepped out to the terrace, I made mental notes about where I stood, positioning myself out of sight from the windows and door to the restaurant; part of my brain arguing that this admirer may not see me and leave me alone, part that this admirer would not be seen with me. At first I knew that there was another couple out enjoying the evening; I could hear their voices, but they soon went, the sound of the terrace door announcing their departure.
I stood there for what seemed the longest of times, wondering if last night had just been a figment of my imagination, when suddenly I felt a presence behind me. In the silence I could hear breathing. This time I definitely shut my eyes. I wanted to enjoy every sense without distraction.
Without thinking I moved my body, arching my back so that my bum gently brushed against the groin of whoever stood behind me. I held it there, savoring the idea that somehow our bodies were touching. It is not easy to sense much through denim, but I imagined that I could feel an erection.
An arm wrapped around me, the hand cupping my right breast, gently squeezing and making my nipple harden. I could hear a quickening of breath, and feel a mouth start to nibble on the side of my ear, intermittently kissing and biting. A right arm wrapped around my lower body, pulling my bum closer. Fingers pushed against my pubic bone, gently sliding up and down, sending sensations that felt like lightning bolts through me.
Suddenly I wanted to be taken. It seemed ridiculous. I had no idea who this person was, and had even less idea of whether they might hurt me, but I wanted to feel a hand inside my pants. I wanted to feel a hand touching my naked flesh. I wanted … I could not put into words what I wanted.
No sooner than it started, than the sound of the terrace door brought it all to an abrupt end.
One final kiss on the side of the neck and then nothing. I wanted to turn and reach out. I wanted to throw my arms around whoever this was and keep them close, but somehow I was frightened that the spell would be broken; that this weird anonymity was the one thing making it possible. I stood there, frozen, excited and exhausted.
My mind slowly came back to a strange sort of reality; having stood there on the brink of having sex with a complete stranger, I now had to go upstairs to and behave normally with my husband of thirty years. I also realized that I was highly aroused and wanted someone inside me.
When I reached our room, I locked the door and immediately checked that Tom was off the phone and the laptop was closed. I certainly did not want what I had in mind to be broadcast across the west coast of America. Tom laid back on the bed. I stood in his line of sight. I undid my jeans, then took off my cardigan and slipped my top over my head. When I undid my bra and threw it across the floor, Tom seemed to get the message and started to undress. By the time I struggled out of my shoes and jeans, we were both naked.
I crawled onto the bed on all fours and positioned myself over his semi-erect penis. Semi-erect was not sufficient for what I wanted, so I took him in my mouth and sucked. Oral sex was not something that often found its way into our repertoire, but I knew it would get him hard, and the harder he got, the more aroused I became.
With hindsight I went too far. I took Tom too close to orgasm. When he eventually entered me, he was only able to continue for a few inconsequential thrusts before he came. Now I confess to adoring the feeling of having Tom cum inside me; it was one of life's great revelations when I first went on the pill, but I needed to be fucked. I needed to be fucked long, hard and deep so that I came too.
What happened with Tom was disappointing. He was not usually inconsiderate when we made love, but I could see that he just wanted to curl up and sleep. I felt horribly frustrated. I took myself off to the bathroom, and for the second night running, sat on the toilet and played with myself, Tom's semen leaking from my vagina. I made myself cum, but it lacked the satisfaction I wanted. I needed to reach orgasm by being fucked.
Wednesday was a beautiful day; clear blue skies and a warmth that reminded me of summer. I persuaded Tom to take me shopping after breakfast. I had seen a couple of small designer boutiques, and needed both Tom's language skills and his credit card. We had to wait until eleven for them to open. Plenty of time to relax over coffee, and talk. Tom admitted he felt guilty for not having as much time with me as he had hoped. I assured him I was finding ways of enjoying myself; less of a lie than he thought.
The dress I bought was red, very Italian and very sexy. The strapless top was elasticated so that it held my bust firm and could be easily worn without a bra. The bottom flared out so that it would have risen if I had been able to spin. I quite liked the look of the underwear on display, but somehow involving Tom in buying them seemed wrong. I realized that I was deliberately creating secrets.
I spent the afternoon sunbathing by the pool with my book, and planned to join Tom after his meeting. Most of my afternoon was spent thinking about what had happened the night before, and anticipating what may yet happen. The uncertainty was agony. I spent forever in the bathroom getting myself showered, shaved, dressed, fussing with my hair and make-up; wanting to make myself absolutely perfect for whoever it was that wanted me. Somehow, the guilty feelings that I should have had about breaking my marriage vows were just not there; subsumed by sexual desire and frustration.
I wished then that I had bought the underwear to go with the new dress; everything I had was more for comfort than thrill. I determined that I would have to wear something through dinner, but somehow they would be abandoned shortly after.
After dinner, Tom went off for his conference call, and I stepped out to the terrace with my now usual coffee and liqueur. It was a truly beautiful evening; warm and balmy. Sadly the few residents that were in the restaurant thought so too; the terrace doors were propped open and people kept appearing to experience the view. I honestly thought that my hopes and preparations had been in vain; that I would never be alone, or worse still, that Tom would finish up and come down to join me.
But my patience and persistence were rewarded. When I heard the terrace doors close shut, I deliberately stood and walked over to the wall; the spot where I knew I was out of view. I stood looking out. Again I felt a presence behind me, and a gentle kiss upon my neck. Again I eased my bum backwards, letting whoever know that I was eager.
An arm wrapped around my body. I convinced myself this was a man. He clearly sensed the absence of a bra, and soon had the top of the dress pushed down, exposing me completely to the world and his touch. His hands felt so good exploring the contours of my breasts and nipples. His free hand gently caressed me and lifted the hem of the skirt, until he was able to slide his hand under and discover my naked stomach. He seemed to enjoy running his fingers through my carefully trimmed pubic hair, but that was nothing to sensing his reaction when he put his hand between my legs. He breathed deeply, almost gasping for breath. I think that thrilled me as much as his touch.
My lips were engorged and clitoris hard; his touch was almost painful, but sent minor earthquakes shuddering though my body. I managed to part my legs slightly and allow him easier access. With that, a finger slid between my lips and part way into my vagina. I came. I physically shook. I unwittingly shrieked, and felt a trickle of something warm run down the inside of my thigh.
He pushed me forward so that my bare breasts now lay on top of the wall. Saying that he pushed makes it sound violent, but it wasn't; it was actually very gentle. It was clear what he wanted of me, and I was more than willing to oblige. The feel of cold rough stone against my naked breasts was exquisite. I pressed down and arched my back, aching for whatever was to happen.
He seemed to crouch behind me, lifting my skirt over my waist. It was a strange sensation being exposed like that, not just because it was in public, but the most intimate parts of my body were now being intensely scrutinized by someone I neither knew nor had seen. Looking back, I liken it to appearing in a porn movie, but that thought never entered my mind at the time. I was euphoric on sexual excitement; it was as close to pure animal lust as I could imagine, and all I could think was, please let it happen.
I imagined having felt how wet I was, he wanted to taste me, but far from it. He used one hand to part the cheeks of my bum, and then proceeded to lick and kiss my tight puckered hole. I immediately thought he was going to try to have anal sex with me, and my mind raced through the issues of pain and all of the very non sexy things that you associate with your anal passage. It was not something that Tom or I had ever contemplated or discussed, so this was suddenly new, but I wanted whatever this man was going to give me. I wanted to be taken, and if that meant having my ass fucked for the first time, I really didn't care. The sensations that I was now experiencing with this man's tongue probing the outer edges of my anus, were worth whatever might follow.
His free hand made sure that the rest of me was not ignored. He caressed the side of my now squeezed breast. He caressed my back. He caressed my thighs, and he slid his hand between my legs, sweetly caressing my now dripping slit, intermittently sliding a finger over my clitoris, and entering my vagina; every movement getting me closer to a second orgasm. He instinctively knew I was close, and while still tonguing my bum, he thrust three fingers deep inside me, taking me over the edge.
I heard the terrace door open and voices spill out. We both stood, he straightening the lower part of my dress, me pulling the top back over my breasts. I desperately wanted this to go further; I desperately wanted to be fucked, long and hard, but in spite of that desperation, I was moved that this person cared enough to want to protect me.
When I thought that I was properly decent, I closed my eyes tight and turned to face him.
'Thank you,' I whispered, 'I hope I might get the opportunity to take this further. I want you. I want to make you happy.'
I didn't really know what I meant by the words, or even where they came from, but they felt sincere; they felt right. He leaned forward and kissed me tenderly on the lips, and walked away, before anyone could see us together.
