I jolted awake and realised I had overslept my alarm. A quarter past nine on a September morning. I had things to do. I staggered across the bedroom and drew the curtains back. Sunlight streamed into the room, blinding me momentarily as I rubbed the dust from my eyes.
I never tired of the vista. Below me, a perfectly mown lawn, then a grassy meadow where cattle grazed contentedly. Beyond that, the Downs rose majestically, the ridge covered in ancient woodland. Beyond the trees, castle towers peeked over the canopy.
Each morning was the same. I stood at my window, feeling jealous of the castle’s chatelaine. Why? I did not know. I lived in a magnificent house with beautiful grounds and a view of open countryside. I had everything a woman could desire other than a satisfactory sex life.
Married twenty years with lovely twins and staff to tend to the daily toil. My husband, Rick, was a lawyer and a partner in a successful City firm. He got half a million a year in salary and double or triple that with a bonus for a good year.
But I was lonely because he spent all week in the London flat, a one-bedroom apartment ten minutes by tube from his office. When Rick was home on weekends, he spent all his time working on his computer. He was well rewarded, but the firm owned him, lock, stock, and barrel.
Wealthy, lonely, and sex-starved—that was my life.
I slipped a silk gown over my pyjamas and walked along the hall to the end door. Beyond that was the granny annexe. It had been added by the previous owner for his mother and built over the garages. Living room, bedroom, kitchenette, and a stairway to its outside entrance. It was the best place for us to house our first au pair.
Simone was a nineteen-year-old French girl. Her duties were to get the children up in the morning, then dress and feed them before taking them to the village school. In the afternoon, she collected them, fed them dinner, and readied them for bed. But story time was my job and the highlight of my day.
Simone also did housework in the morning, and I visited her flat to give her instructions for the day’s work.
I entered the tiny lobby and then knocked softly before opening the door to her bedroom.
The bed was directly opposite where I stood, and the sight that met my eyes shook me rigid. Simone lay with her legs akimbo and the soles of her feet pressed together. Her lower body was naked, a pair of tracksuit bottoms and panties wrapped around her ankles. She was concentrating on the phone in her hand. Her other hand held a vibrator that protruded between her thighs.
I stared at the device, listening to the quiet buzzing from its motor. Simone was alternately pushing and then pulling it out. When it was fully inside, two rabbit ears pressed against her clitoral area, and her body thrust up with the surge of pleasure she felt.
There was something awfully familiar about that vibrator. I raised my arm and pointed at the offending article.
“That’s mine! Mine!”
I shrieked and felt sick to the bottom of my stomach, then rushed out and ran back to my room. Kneeling by the bed and sobbing, I pulled a drawer out from under the bed. My mind was a whirl. How had Simone found it? What else had she seen or taken?
I looked at the jumble in the drawer. My rabbit was there, exactly where I had left it after my last self-love session, and I picked it up, cradling it in my hands.
Realising I had messed up, I ran back to her room and stopped at the bottom of her bed, where I had been before.
I felt miserable as I squeezed the vibrator against my chest. “I am so sorry, Simone. I have made a terrible mistake.”
Simone smiled. She looked at me, then patted the empty space on the mattress beside her, inviting me to join her.
Laid beside her, with my head propped up on pillows, I could see her body and the phone screen. Throughout all the commotion, Simone had never ceased the movement of her vibrator, a slow, methodical arousal of her body.
My toy remained pressed against the valley between my breasts—silent and waiting. The little screen caught my attention. There, I could see a woman’s head between two legs. Then, she raised her head and looked at the camera. Below her chin was another woman’s bush with glossy, swollen lips visible to me.
During my self-love sessions, I used my vivid imagination, fantasising about a man who could ravish me in the way that Rick had forgotten. It worked as I plunged the vibrator deep into my vagina, pushing the rabbit ears against my clit, time and time again—until my body jerked and writhed in orgasm.
I had never thought about using porn or understood the wide variety of ways humans can enjoy sex. I was ultra-vanilla, an unknowingly innocent middle-aged woman.
Watching Simone’s phone screen revealed something to me, and my body started to react to the dual sights of the video and her masturbation. I loosened the belt on my gown, pushed my pyjama bottoms down my legs, opened my thighs, and rested my vibe on my sex.
Then, I used my fingers to open my lips and slipped two inside. To my surprise, I was wet, so I pushed the vibrator inside me and turned it on. I copied Simone’s movements, pushing and pulling in sync as I concentrated on the two women in the video, wondering what it would be like to have Simone doing that to me.
Gradually, she increased the pace of her thrusts, and I followed her lead. Faster and faster we went. I could hear her laboured breath as she climbed towards orgasm. I was frantic with desire, thrusting at a faster speed than I had ever done alone. My head was flat on the mattress, the phone video was forgotten, and my eyes gazed at the ceiling but saw nothing. In my head, the fantasy of Simone grinding on my mouth filled my senses.
A series of grunts and shouts heralded Simone’s orgasm. I felt the bed shake as she thrust and jerked in ecstasy. It tipped me over the edge, and I came harder than at any other time in my life. Screaming and rolling around, my legs clamped together, trapping the source of my pleasure in place.
Lying on my side, I quieted. Gradually, my breathing returned to normal. Simone’s face was close to mine, and I felt her hand stroke my shoulder.
“Madame, c’était très joli. N’est-ce pas?”
I touched her forehead, stroking her soft skin.
“Yes, very joli. And, please, you should not ‘Madame’ me.”
Then, she rolled away, got off the bed, pulled her tracksuit and panties up, shook her black tresses, and walked out of the room.
For the remainder of the day, we went about our separate lives. But whenever I saw her, my thoughts went to our shared pleasure. I watched her lithe body move and admired her small breasts. I fantasised about stroking her hair, running my fingers through her locks. Most of all, I fantasised about her fingers in my secret place, lifting me towards another great orgasm.
Late in the evening, after I had read the twins their bedtime stories, I lay on my bed in the dark, pushed my hand inside my pyjama bottoms, and felt the wetness between my legs. My fingers found the hardness, enjoying the sensation of my clitoris, and I slowly rubbed there as I dreamed of making love with Simone. My movement increased in speed with my arousal. Faster and faster, my whole world concentrated on the little head of my clit, until the moment when my dam burst. A great flash of pleasure ripped through my brain, my body contorted as my muscles contracted, and as the spasms released, the same muscles were stretched to their limit when my body flailed around in ecstasy.
Sleep came quickly, my needs were satisfied.
._.
In the morning, I woke refreshed, and as I showered, I thought about our mutual masturbation and wondered what it meant for my relationship with Simone. Everything I had ever read was about fathers having affairs with their au pairs. Of mothers doing the same—I knew none.
I dressed carefully, wanting to be smartly attired in something appropriate for a well-to-do wife on a warm day. I wore clean white underwear, a bra and high-cut knickers, and a dark blue floral dress that offset my hair. I felt pretty and confident in my appearance.
When I arrived in the kitchen, Simone was already there. Dressed in a pale pink and decidedly tight top with blue denim shorts, she looked every one of her nineteen years.
I boiled the kettle, dunked a teabag, and sat on one of the hard chairs across the table she was using to prepare vegetables for the twins’ dinner.
When I looked at Simone, she seemed different. Perhaps it was because I viewed her as an adult now.
“Simone, I was thinking you should have a social life. At the moment, you never get to meet anyone outside the family.”
“Thank you, Jane. I would like that.”
That was the first time she used my name, and the soft extended J seemed quite exotic to my ears. My words last night had been remembered.
“I’m a member of the village amateur dramatic society. There’s a wide range of ages, and they need more help. Would you like to come with me to the next meeting?”
“I have never done any acting.”
“There are plenty of backstage jobs. We need an assistant stage manager to help Jack. He’s twenty-five and a great lad.”
“Thank you, Jane. I will go with you.”
She smiled sweetly at me, and I smiled back. Then I noticed she was making a mess of chopping the carrots. I stood and walked round the table to stand next to her.
“Here, let me show you a better way.”
Simone gave me the knife, and then I chopped a whole carrot in seconds, showing her the grip and action.
At that moment, I became aware of her close proximity. Her shoulder was pressed against mine, my nostrils were full of Simone’s perfume, and I looked directly into her dark eyes.
She turned her body towards me, her face millimetres away. I felt her hands pressing against my hips, and then her lips were on mine. It was the gentlest kiss of my life. I drank her in, odour, taste, and touch. The kiss seemed to last an eternity before I felt her tongue probing my lips. I lifted my hands, grasped her waist on either side and pulled her against me as my mouth opened to let her in.
We stood there, joined in our kiss as our tongues danced in my mouth.
When she drew back, I felt empty. Then Simone sank down onto her knees. I felt her lifting the hem of my dress with both hands. As I looked down, her head disappeared beneath the material. Then I felt her hands pulling my knickers to one side before she traced a path across my pubic mound with the tongue that had been in my mouth seconds earlier. Soft fingers probed the space between my legs, and then they entered me as her tongue flicked against my clitoris. I shuddered from the beautiful sensations.
No woman had ever kissed me like she did. No woman had ever touched my private parts; only Rick had ever done that. Notwithstanding all of this, I was lost, hers to take.
When she stood up and kissed me again, I smelt and tasted my own body, and then I grasped her hands and led her up the stairs.
._.
Stood in my bedroom, our bodies melted together for our second deep kiss, and this time, it was my tongue that pushed into her mouth. My hands roved across her back and down to her buttocks before squeezing them rhythmically and enjoying the softness of her flesh.
Simone held my head. Her fingers explored my hair and then descended to my back inside my dress, where she gently traced paths across my sensitive skin.
I could have stayed there forever, but Simone eventually reached down and pulled my dress up as she shifted away from my body. I raised my arms to help her take it off over my head. She dropped my dress on the floor and brushed her hands across my bra.
“You are beautiful, Jane.”
Her hands went around me and released my bra clips, then she took the straps and gently pulled them down my arms.
“Your breasts are so beautiful. I wish mine were bigger.”
She smiled at me wistfully.
I took hold of her top’s hem and pulled it up. She lifted her arms, and I pulled it over her head before dropping it beside my dress. I looked down at her breasts. She was not wearing a bra; there was no need for one. Her small boobs were perfect in every way, each surmounted by a tiny nipple set in the centre of a pale areola.
“No, Simone, they are perfect.”
She unbuckled her shorts belt, ran down the zip, and let them fall to the floor. Underneath were tiny, pale pink panties covered in deep pink hearts.
I dropped to my knees in front of her, grasped the hem and then slowly pulled it down to her ankles. I stared at her exposed bush, a mass of black pubic hair, then leaned forward and pressed my face against her, enjoying the odour while feeling a tickling on my nose.
“Come, Jane, take me to your bed.”
I stood and felt her pull my knickers down. Then we went to bed, with Simone lying where my husband would be.
We rolled together, face to face, arms wrapped around each other in a deep kiss. I did not want it to end, but Simone’s hand wandered down to find my pubic area before slipping between my thighs.
She gently pushed, and then I rolled onto my back. I felt her fingers explore my pussy lips, then slip inside. I realised I was very wet when she slid along to touch my clit. I shuddered and gasped from the sensation.
“Where is your rabbit, Jane?”
“Below me, in the drawer.”
Simone leaned over me and pulled the drawer out. After rummaging out of my sight, she sat up again, holding my rabbit and an older plain vibrator in one hand.
Then, as I watched, she knelt on the bed and pushed the rabbit deep inside her vagina. When the ears were pressed against her clit, she pressed the button to start the vibrations, and her face creased in response to the pleasure she felt.
“Ah, c’est très beau.”
Simone lay down on her side, facing me, and ran the vibrator in her hand up and down my wet pussy.
“Jane, je vais te baiser.”
Smiling, she pushed it inside me and started to pump it in and out with one hand while the other rubbed my clit. Her mouth covered mine, and I opened it to let her tongue explore. I was ready for her and craved release.
The pounding inside and the relentless rubbing on my clit took me over the edge, my mind drowning in a torrent of pleasure as my body squirmed and flexed in orgasm. I grasped Simone’s body and pulled her tight against me, feeling her warmth mix with mine while I kissed her madly.
As I came down from my high, I rolled Simone onto her back, then pushed my hand between her thighs to grasp the protruding end of my rabbit. With my tongue deep inside her mouth, I pulled it out, then thrust it in as deep as it would go.
Simone moaned. I pulled and pushed it faster, feeling the effect on her body each time the vibrating ears hit her clitoris. As her need increased, she grasped my waist and tightened her grip so much I could hardly breathe. Finally, she clawed at my skin and let out a series of low grunts that vibrated in my throat, and I felt her body jumping with every thrust of the rabbit inside her. The vibrator Simone had used on me was still inside, still buzzing, still arousing me, and the intimacy of making her come struck me to my core. I rocked and thrust against her as my muscles went into spasm a second time, the two of us moaning and whimpering in shared ultimate pleasure.
._.
Our sexual relationship deepened as the weeks passed, and most weekdays, we played together. But I never stopped to think about the consequences of my affair with Simone, good or bad. I just enjoyed the experience of masturbating together. Sometimes, there was one rabbit, sometimes two, and occasionally, we just fingered each other to orgasm. I continued to fantasise about licking her sex in the way the girl I had seen on her phone was doing. But Simone seemed to be in control of our relationship, wanting penetration more than anything. But, all considered, it was an improvement over my non-existent sex life with Rick.
._.
I took Simone to the drama group, and she quickly settled in as Jack’s assistant. After each session, they headed off to the pub together, and when she returned home, I had her in my bedroom, telling me how deeply he had kissed her on the way home. After the tale, we used our rabbits together, Simone fantasising about Jack and me fantasising about her. But something else came up in our post-orgasm chat one evening.
“Jane, do you know Jack fancies you?”
“Oh, come off it, Simone, I’m older than his mother.”
“No, seriously. It’s not something Jack has said, but I see him watching you during rehearsal. He stares at your breasts.”
“Perhaps he’s sizing me up for my costume.”
She giggled.
“No way. I know that look! He never stares at my chest, though I know he likes my derriere.”
After a while, I forgot about Simone’s revelation as we continued preparing for ‘Jack and the Beanstalk’, the Christmas pantomime.
Rehearsals started as read-throughs in November and gradually became smoother as we learnt our parts.
Rick surprised everyone by asking for a role. He was to play the baddie, the one all the kids love to boo every time he makes an entrance onstage.
I was given my favourite role, the fairy queen. I just loved the costume, layer upon layer of Tulle. The bodice displayed my assets to perfection, a nice treat for the dads in the audience.
During a pantomime, the fairy queen flies across the stage, sprinkling fairy dust on the other actors. For these scenes, I had to wear a harness that had to be fitted carefully. That was Jack’s role. Each time he did the job, his hands wandered around my waist. Each time, I carefully lifted them away and gently pushed him back.
It would have been a game, except I remembered Simone’s words. The problem was I started to fancy him. During our sessions, I fantasised about being taken by Jack as I plunged the rabbit inside me, dreaming it was his young cock. Afterwards, we giggled as we shared our joint fantasy of being his lover.
._.
As winter approached, Rick spent far less time working on weekends. Apparently, an important contract was about to be completed, and consequently, he was much less stressed. He immersed himself in his role as Fleshcreep in the panto, but there was no revival of our sex life. I played with Simone during the working week, and our rabbits ran hot.
One day, after we had several lovely orgasms together, Simone suggested we play a little trick on Jack. When she whispered the details, I was flabbergasted.
It would be simple and dramatic. Simone controlled the wires that suspended and propelled me across the stage. All I had to do was pose.
The dress rehearsal was set for the 15th of December, a few days before our first performance. On the night, I stood nervously on a platform high in the wing, with Simone close behind me. She spoke while she tightened the wire that took my weight.
“Remember, Jane, Jack is directly beneath you. Your cue is coming, and he will look up to check. Then make your move.”
I nodded, wondering how she had persuaded me to do such a thing. A second of thought made me realise I was determined to see if Jack’s groping and interest had any substance.
My fairy queen dress billowed out from my waist. I raised one leg, crooked for my flight, and then from behind came a quiet, “Now, Jane. Look down”
I pushed my hand under the layers of Tulle, drawing my fingers along the slit of my pussy, exposed to anyone below, as I was not wearing knickers.
I saw Jack staring, and heard him call my name. Then I lifted my head, looking ahead as I was jerked forward into thin air, waving my tinfoil-encrusted fairy wand and sprinkling fairy dust as I chanted spells over the cast below.
Later, I sat on a sofa in the green room, still in full costume and wearing the harness that Jack was supposed to have taken off after the curtain calls. His backpack was dumped in a corner, so I knew he was still around, and I wondered if my little performance had backfired.
Eventually, the door opened, and Jack came into the room.
I glared at him, trying to appear the wronged woman.
“Jack. You have forgotten me.”
I turned away and felt him unbutton the back of my dress. I pulled the top down to expose the harness before lifting my arms to let Jack lift it over my head. I heard it fall on the floor as his hands did their usual thing and grasped me around my waist.
Previously, I had always lifted them away, followed by a gentle admonition.
This time I lifted them up and planted one on each of my boobs. I felt Jack squeeze them gently. Then I felt his lips and tongue on the flesh of my neck, planting little kisses everywhere.
The feeling was electric. I could hear myself whimper as Jack’s fingers found my stiffening nipples beneath my soft bra.
I moaned, “Oh, Jack, I’ve wanted you for ages.”
Perhaps a little melodramatic, but I didn’t want him to stop.
I grasped his right hand, then pulled it under my skirt and pushed his fingers against my mound.
I felt Jack’s fingers exploring deep between my thighs and then slipping inside my pussy. I was incredibly wet. Then he found my hard clit and started to rub it.
I pushed my bottom against him, rotating over his erection. The only sounds were the rustle of the layers of Tulle and my heavy breathing.
“Make me cum, Jack.”
With one hand on my nipple and the other on my clit, I felt my arousal and need growing. Jack’s cock was rock solid behind me, pushing out while I was pushing it back.
“Yes, Jack, yes.”
I felt myself lose control of my body, jerking around on the hand between my thighs. The orgasm seemed to go on and on, spreading deep within me. I was hardly aware of Jack lowering me onto the couch, little spasms still wracking my body as he came on top of me and his cock plunged into my wet hole.
Every thrust seemed to light a fire in my clit. I whimpered and moaned as the pounding of my body increased in speed and intensity. I was in a constant orgasm, my brain flooded with indescribable pleasure. Somehow, in all this, I sensed his cock pulsate and the warmth of his seed flood into me.
I wrapped my arms around Jack’s neck and pulled him onto my lips, our tongues meeting in a slow dance as his body gasped from the effort of taking me.
“I want this again, Jack, you wonderful man.”
I kissed him again and again. I did not want to let him go, ever. But even the best of times have to end.
._.
I went home to an empty house as the twins were with my parents. Rick and Simone were at the pub. He was downing pints of bitter with his mates. She was stroking Jack’s ego to see if he would take her.
When Rick came back, he was well sozzled. I was in the sitting room, showered and clean in my nightclothes, watching a movie on the telly. Hidden under a cushion was my rabbit. Rick went straight up to bed. He did not say one word to me.
After midnight, I heard Jack leave from the annexe door. I switched off the television, quietly walked upstairs, and then through the connecting door. I knocked on her bedroom door and looked inside.
Simone was propped up in her bed.
“Did you, Jane?”
“Yes, and it was incredible. I had a huge cum. Did you do it, Simone?”
“Yes, but he couldn’t cum, poor boy. You had drained him.”
We both dissolved into a fit of giggles. I went over and lay beside Simone on the bed.
“Did you come, Simone?”
She shook her head.
“I’ve got the perfect cure for that.”
I pulled my rabbit from under my nighty, lifted it between her legs, and pushed it home. Simone was wet, willing, and needy.
