I am a woman turning fifty, a woman who has sacrificed most things in her life to be successful. I have few friends, a non-existent social life, and intermittent romance in a relationship that lacks just about every emotion and desire that any human needs. I have never been married, never sought marriage or children, normally those things have never bothered me, after all they were decisions that I made willingly. I have few regrets in life, though I am haunted by one what if moment, one thought that has never gone away like I hoped it would. For over fifteen years it has remained constant, there in the dark recesses of my mind, niggling away, tormenting me, re-appearing at specific times with the same old question that I cannot ignore or escape from.
I am a woman who is rapidly approaching my golden age of fifty years, most people would say of me that I am successful, wealthy, drive a top of the range BMW but someone who is very much work orientated with very little social life. That I would have to agree with, in my pursuit to be successful I have sacrificed allot, from relationships, which to be fair were about as fulfilling as a piece of cracker bread, through to any chance of having a family and a life without anyone you could call a lover or partner.
Now though as I am getting older, I find myself debating the choices, the desires that have been locked away, contemplating the once impossible and perhaps even seeking, searching out some degree of, well, adult social life and pleasure which have been vastly avoided by me.
My problem is, I don’t want anything that I can’t control, I don’t want something that is based on sex and sex alone, I have learn that sex to me means something that it doesn’t to others. What counts as sexual intercourse these days?, well in my mind between a man and woman that’s when he puts his cock inside your body, as for the woman to woman element, its pussy grinding or strap on sex, I don’t and never have classed oral sex as sexual intercourse, like wise masturbation of fingering.
I have mentioned the woman to woman style of loving, why because for over thirty years now that that side of relationship has been a niggling question within my mind. At first as a child, late teen age I thought it was just a phase that every girl went through, I used to look and study them, especially the older girls who were ten years plus of my age. I just found their body alluring and enticing, sexy and curvy, though I was much too shy to even begin to attempt to satisfy that demand or inquisitive nature that I had.
I have found male and female sex to be, well, border line boring, stimulation lasts about thirty minutes, sex last ten seconds if you’re lucky, there’s a lot of moaning and groaning from him and very little in satisfaction for you. Perhaps it is just un-fulfilment that makes my mind wonder, my imagination coming into life, but then it has persisted for so long that perhaps it is just still that natural sense of curiosity which plagues me and will continue to do so until I at least try.
In the early hours of each morning, I find myself awoken by a mind that is deep into a fantasy, my body is aroused, turned on by images of lesbian erotica. For a moment I lay there trying to ignore the thoughts, the sensations of my body, you’d think eventually I would learn that I can’t resist and would have to satisfy my own internal desires.
I feel my chest breathing heavily, my breasts are still relatively firm, they are one of the things that I love about myself, a size 36 c cup, their soft flesh feels delightful in my hands, which slowly massages their swell, palms pressing against the ever increasing harshness of my nipple, that in turn yearns to be the centre of my attention. I lightly begin to let my long nails encircle the nipple, swirling around then occasionally flicking their aroused state, this usually sends a shiver of delight rippling through my body, as the sensitiveness grows. Pulling and twisting them, increasing the pleasure, sending a warm shudder of delight throughout my form, more importantly down upon and around the centre of feminine sex.
I continue to caress and feel my own breasts, pretending in my mind that it is some young delightful nineteen year old, enjoying her own wild sensual fantasy of seducing an older, mature female. My hands swirl, cup, the breasts, fingers twist, pull tweak the nipple until pleasure truly grows and the nipple’s become vibrantly alive, pulsing with desire that has begun to journey down and slowly, gradually infest my sex with its lurid, yet tantalising sensations.
I begin to touch, tease my own navel, a single finger, lingering around its shape and form, something which is profoundly arousing; I wonder how it would feel to have a warm moist tongue, caress it, to delve into its unique shape, to have lips pressing against it, bequeathing lavish oral embraces upon it. As I think those delightful thoughts, I can feel the sensation within my sex growing, the tingling, buzzing of desire, my ass checks are tight against the bedding, my body anticipating the fingers that will soon be searching out the moistness of my treasure trove.
I caress the tops of my thighs, the skin is soft, full of erotic desires, nerve ends come alive under the light controlled caresses, the silken feel, coupled with the vibrant buzzing and wake of desire that is left behind each new caress, makes me feel ever more sexier, more stimulated and lustful. I move one hand to the very edges of my most intimate organ, careful though not to actually press against the moistness of its flesh folds. I like to feel the stimulation, to heap the arousal onto my body, to crave the touch and torment, stimulate every inch of my body so that it truly desires that final height of pleasure.
Ever so lightly now my finger touches, glances the lips of my wanton sex, the touch is so delicate so fine that it can do nothing but send a shiver of excitement through me. I can smell the odour of my arousal, it hangs in the tense air of the bedroom, in my mind I want to see a loving female partner taking as much care as I am over this moment, I want the very tip of her tongue to lightly glance the lips of my aching sex, to place a soft but lingering kiss upon its summit, a kiss that proudly displays the erotic desire that she has within her, but the respect not delve into its tempting moistness until I am fully reading.
As I tease myself I wonder how different it feels between the finger that is mine and the tongue of a lover, to have its moist, warmth tip trailing over, following the contours and shape of my pussy lips. Between my thumb and forefinger I lightly pull at the flaps of my sex, pretending it to be a lovers sensitive, light, but oh so potent bite, it’s an act that sends wave after wave of delight rippling through me and forces me to close my eyes and stretch out my body as I feel every sensations of its surge being digested by a body that desires it more than anything else at this moment.
I feel the orgasm building within my, spreading out from my stomach, seeping into my pelvis, the tingling flesh and wanton lust mixing delightfully, but I stop playing for a moment, I am not ready, not ready to finish it, to do so, would be too easy, my body desires something more gratifying, something more tantalising and strenuous. Waiting for the sensations to be digested, feeling the nerve ends that are awaken by the desire, feeling every ripple, ever surge, I close my eyes once more and breath slowly, trying to lessen the sensations which afflict my body.
My fingers once more begin to trace the outline of my pussy; I can feel its hotness, its moisture as a finger slips into the velvet folds of stimulated flesh. I am soaked, sodden by the juices of desire, slowly I move across from the inner part of my side to around the hood of my clit. I can feel its thunderous beats, the pulses of lust and arousal meeting, the juices of desire that seep from within me. Between my thumb and forefinger I hold the erect nub of my sexual delight, slowly touching, caressing, squeezing, and teasing it into a louder stance of arousal.
I breathe deeply, sensations are rampant, torrid and all-consuming over my body, and with my mind in melt down, imagination in over drive, eyes filled with lustful intent and desire, struggling to keep them open. I can’t help but wonder how it would feel to have a lovers fingers toying where mine are now, to have their face kissing, embracing and evoking other passions, to feel lips mashing, tongue’s swirling, dancing to an erotic overture of indescribable pleasure. To have that profound mixture of fingers teasing, tormenting and a mouth stimulating kissing, letting the arousal swap between consenting adults of different ages, even generations.
My finger once more rose up and down the opening of my sex, swirling at the top, pressure being applied at its hood as the sensations flushed through me, the hot moistness of my sex aching with unspent pleasure, forefinger delving deeper, as my thumb rested upon the sex crest. I could feel the desire building once more, the need and lust heightening, the yearning of my body. My touch no longer light, now aggressive, three fingers swirled roughly at the top of my sex, stimulating my body, forefinger occasionally plunging into the boiling soaked flesh, flicking, teasing the pulsating clit, until I could feel the desire well up one final time and spasm of euphoria rocketed through me, hips bucked, twisted, jerked as the fluid spewed from deep within me, nerve ends screamed with avid delight as body tensed and jerked. Wave after wave of delight pulsed through me, my fingers dripping with the juices of self-indulgence as my craved the pleasure of lover to orally please me, to mop up the hotness and feel her oral lips encompass that of my sex and revel in the pleasure of feasting upon the nectar of delight.
I’m still very much looking for that young lover, that first sensual experience, who knows perhaps with the new year and all, this could be the time, after all the internet makes it so easy these days ……………….