The Aftermath of a Marriage

A note from Jayne.

When the following happened, I had been separated for just over a year and divorced for a few months. During the separation, I had been celibate but very active with myself and in chat rooms which I told you about in the first few parts of this story. That was before I accepted my new status as a single, near fifty-year-old woman with a hell of a sex drive who was in greater demand than I'd ever imagined I would be.

In the previous parts I explained that there seemed to be something missing with the sex I had with the three or four guys I slept with after the divorce came through. However, I may well have found that missing something with Nick. You can help me decide by using the comments feature and, hopefully, leaving a good score.

Hugs

Jayne x

A little look backwards.

"No, not here," I said gripping his hand that was on my knee.

"Why not?"

"Anyone might see."

"So what?"

"We're in a bloody cinema Nick not a bedroom," I whispered as he struggled against my hand.

"But no one's looking and what if they do?"

"Someone might report us."

"Fuck 'em," he growled sliding his hand up my leg and pressing it against the soaked gusset of my panties as he kissed me full on the lips.

*

It was steamy and I could hardly see across the room, but then that's how steam rooms at gyms are supposed to be. They are like that to provide the relaxing and cleansing steam and not to hide a guy stroking a woman's bare stomach in a bikini and pressing his leg against hers. Neither is the steam thick enough to cover the hand cupping my breast as he pushes his tongue into my ear, only moving both away as the door opens

*

"Go and take your knickers off," he said rather too loud for my comfort in the mid-scale fairly busy restaurant where he'd taken me for dinner.

"Don't be daft."

"Go on, go and take them off and give them to me. It'll be a big turn on."

"Hmmm maybe for you but not for me and no."

"Well it would be if I put my hand up your skirt under the tablecloth and gave you a good fingering, wouldn't it?"

"No, it wouldn't not here, stop it that wouldn't be a turn on for me," I sort of lied adding, " I'm keeping them on."

"You came without a bra. And that turns you on, it'll be even better commando"

"Well that's different it's what you asked me to do," I replied.

"Now I'm asking you to take your knickers off for me, what's the difference?"

"It's fashionable to go braless."

"Well, I saw some bird on youtube in America saying she couldn't show the host a tattoo as she had no panties on."

"That's as maybe but I've got mine on and that's where they are staying."

"But your tits leap around as you move and I can see your nipples, they're hard aren't they."

"Of course not," I said looking down and seeing the two guilty bumps.

"Yes they are they and they're looking fucking great so how about a blowjob in the toilet instead?"

Where I was at.

Depressed is probably an overstatement but at times that is how I felt about my sex life during my first year as a divorcee. Yes, I'd had some adventures and for my sins I had been with, isn't that a nice term, four men in just over the twelve months. On reflection, and living alone I did a great deal of that, four wasn't bad, or was it? Maybe it was bad? That made me wonder what constitutes good and bad sexual behaviour for a middle-aged, single woman in the 2020s? I had never thought I would have sex with four men in a year with two of them being almost total strangers, one being my ex-husband and the other someone I knew from way back, but I had and I couldn't quite make out how that made me feel!

Naturally my life didn't completely revolve around sex. However, it did seem to have far more significance to me now that it was not available just across the other side of the bed as it had been for so many years. But living by myself and working mostly from there I was alone so much that it was on my mind far, far more than it ever had been before. It wasn't just the feeling of wanting sex, as it had been so much since the separation, it was my reaction to it and how I related to the men I'd been with.

That had varied so much. With my husband, woops I forgot the ex, I was like a wild slut and got off so strongly, I almost asked him to marry me again! My first stranger was a set up by a friend and was disaster as I stopped him undressing me and couldn't go through with it, whilst Tom was all sex and drugs and rock 'n roll and with my last one, a married neighbour, I had to feign my orgasm. So quite a motley crew wasn't it?

It was clear to me that sex as a single woman was vastly different to that within marriage. It really was a whole new ball game that I was not used to so I had to change as the ball game wouldn't. But how?

Kevin tried it on several times though he wasn't that persistent when I turned him down which, in some ways I regretted as the sex with him was by some margin the best of the lot so far. Rather ruefully as I thought about such things during another several months long period of celibacy, I recognised that in the nigh on two years since the separation I'd only had that one truly satisfying sex! Several times I was tempted to give into him thinking, why not? He was a good lover, there would be no need for any other commitment as there was with single guys and I knew that with him I could be as wanton and sordid as I wished because that's exactly how he liked me to be and act. And after all, it would be so convenient even to the point, my lurid imagination suggested, that I would be able to call him up and offer myself to him without feeling like a slut. But I didn't, I held back and resisted the temptation of having sex on tap with him similar to how it had been during our marriage and decided that things really did have to change.

For a while I thought I had found it with Nick. He was younger than me, early forties and single. The latter was a little worrying to me as such guys are often after a commitment or a live in and they were the last things I wanted. My need was a steady companion mainly for some dating but mostly for sex. Simple really, although as I had learned from my flings to date, it needed more than just straightforward sex for me to really get into it. Kevin and Tom had provided that little bit extra and the sex had been good, the other two hadn't added anything other than straight sex and the results were a disappointment. Maybe it was love that was missing, I pondered now and then, as the ex with my ex had been great, but then, I reconciled, I didn't love him as for Christ's sake we'd just divorced. Was it familiarity, perhaps after all we'd been having sex for twenty-five years or so but then I'd enjoyed what I'd done with Tom who was newcomer into my body? I decided it was something else but what?

Nick was a whole new ball game. He played it by completely different rules to anyone else I had ever known and he introduced me to a type of game I had never played before. His big thing was doing things in public or, at least in places where the risk of being caught was present. At first, that scared the life out of me but I quickly took to it like a duck does to water especially as it made me recall so vividly Kevin doing me in front of the French window in my apartment.

I'd met Nick at the gym I used. He was younger than me being in his early forties but as some say that's the age I look, I was comfortable with it. Unusually for me, I was initially attracted to him because of his body that I saw most of in the pool. He had a nicely, without being overly, hairy chest, a great physique and was lightly tanned with a great head of dark hair. After a few chats in the gym and pool area, we had a drink in the bar a couple of times before he took me out for a drink one afternoon and then to dinner a few nights later. The inevitable happened after that when I invited him into my place for a nightcap and we had sex. It was pretty good, though not as mind-blowing for me as he claimed it was for him but, being as he was a bit of a bullshitter, I took that with a pinch of salt. We did it again a few days later after meeting by accident at the gym and it was then that he told me about his kink. I suppose I was shocked, but also intrigued and slightly excited by his explanation.

"Doing it or other sexy things where there's a danger of being caught is a massive turn on for me Jay," he said turning onto his side in my bed and cupping my breast ten minutes or so after we'd had pretty good sex, including some rather exciting oral both ways. After we'd done it again, this time doggy which was lovely, he asked, "Have you done anything like that Jay?" He never did get round to calling me Jayne in the couple of months we were a number.

"No, not really just in a car a few times years ago and once on a beach both with my ex."

"Wasn't he very adventurous then?" he asked making me wonder whether perhaps I should say, 'Well he had his moments as a few months ago he fucked me leaning against that window with me almost fully dressed, but I didn't as I thought that might give him ideas so I kept quiet.

Whether it was simply my silent response in bed or something I said I never found out but, just the next day when we were in the steam room, he started touching me. Okay, we were alone, it was very steamy, almost foggy and he would have time to remove his hand from my breast if the door opened but it was risky. We had quite a bust up after we'd left the gym and were standing in the car park.

"You liked it really, didn't you?"

"No of course not you was mauling me."

"No I wasn't I was groping your tits that's all."

"Well that is mauling," I said as he moved closer and rested his hand on my hip.

"But don't tell me you didn't enjoy it Jay, that it didn't turn you on?"

I started to deny it but he suddenly put one arm around me, pulled me to him, kissed me fully on the lips and squeezed my boob with his other hand. I tried pushing him off mainly because it was in such a public place in the daylight but he was too strong and I couldn't do it. Instead of him stopping he gripped my bum in the yoga pants, squeezed that harder, fiddled his other hand inside my tracky top right onto my breast and pushed his tongue deep into my mouth. Then suddenly my resistance and desire for him to stop reduced and I felt my body responding. I could hardly believe what was happening as I squirmed my breast back against his hand, felt his erection pressing into me all the way up my stomach and I returned the fervour of his kiss.

"Let's go to your flat now Jay," he groaned into my ear.

I lived much closer to the gym than where he told me he lived so we went there; it was not until we finished the fling that I really realised that I never went to his place and I suspected he lived with someone, possibly even a wife but I never found out.

The sex at my place, though, was sensational. Okay, it wasn't with me up against the French window as it had been the last time a man had me in my home but, I was only half undressed. He was on me directly we got inside the front door and didn't bother taking me to my bedroom but set about me in the hallway. My track top was, almost, torn off, my singlet pulled down around my waist and my tits were yanked out of my, rather ugly, large, sports bra. As we kissed with his hands all over me, I struggled him out of the small hallway as I was a little worried that anyone could see in if they came to the door and rang the bell. Once in my sitting room he rather roughly pulled the singlet over my head and off and between us we got rid of the dodgy looking bra so I could present myself to him in all my topless glory wearing just my tight, pale-grey leggings and trainers that I kicked off. Then, like with Kevin, we fucked with me standing up with those leggings pushed down around my knees. There was one significant difference, though, this time there were no panties to bother with as I always go commando at the gym.

The episodes in the steam room and carpark and the energetic, slightly rough sex in my sitting room characterised our short but exciting fling. The most striking feature, though, was how the perspective of having sex, of one level or another, in a public place with a chance of being seen and caught added that something that so far, other than with Kevin, had been missing.

That struck me most strongly when he was fucking me with my yoga pants around my ankles and my orgasm hit me so powerfully. Later that evening as I thought back to my earlier sex with Nick I realised, rather worryingly, that perhaps I was also a sex in dangerous places junky as he clearly was! Was that the missing element with Martin? Did I need an added an inducement to cum so hard as I had recently with Nick and that first time since my divorce with Kevin? Was that going to be my burden in the future I wondered, as my hand almost as if with a mind of its own between my legs and found my sopping wet lips.

*

Inevitably, I suppose, after I had let him play with my tits in the steam room a couple of time, grope me in the car park and finger me to an orgasm in the cinema, he wanted more. I had, though, resisted taking my knickers off in the restaurant, the cinema when he'd fingered me to an orgasm through them and in a pub another time, though I had acquiesced one evening in a little park at the bottom end of the Isle of Dogs as walked along the Thames. He wanted us to stop and have sex in a small shelter and unzipped himself but I refused. Whilst I was, without doubt getting a kick out of his kink, as it really did turn me on, I was still able to pull back from what I thought was going too far.

I had, sort of, worked out in my mind what this was all about. I knew that I couldn't go as far as he wanted or take the risks of being caught that he enjoyed but, the idea and some of what we did, like in the cinema for instance gave me a tremendous buzz. It was the aftermath, though, that did most for me.

Following the episodes in the restaurant when I wouldn't take my knickers off for him and in the park shelter when I did, the subsequent sex in my flat was spectacular. That was partly due to my recall of being fingered to such strong orgasms, feeling his lovely bare erection and the thought of having sex in such a public place. Ever since visiting a sex club in Copenhagen with a group of girls on a pre-wedding bachelor party, I'd had this fantasy of having sex in front of an audience and Nick's perversion, as some would call it, played totally to that. And it played particularly strongly on another occasion.

I could hardly believe that we were kissing, that his tongue was deep in my mouth and that his body was pressed hard against mine. But they were, though, and unbelievably as they were, his hand cupping and squeezing my breast and my arms going around his body were even more so.

I realised then, that he'd been priming me all afternoon, as we shopped in Bond Street and Knightsbridge. Little touches on my arms and back as he ushered me through doors or into lifts, little pats on my waist and butt, over-familiarity with much of his phrasing, lingering looks at my breasts, which looked more prominent than their D cups in the white, long sleeved, low cut, posh tee shirt top under the black, leather bomber jacket. Was all that careful priming starting to pay off for him, and me, I wondered?

"You have such gorgeous breasts Jayne," he murmured, his fingers stroking and squeezing my left one, sending torrents of sensation through me as he added, "Woops sorry love, I meant smashing tits."

There was no apt reply I could think of other than, "You must like saggy tits then," but thought it more prudent to stay silent. Instead of speaking, I pulled his head down and kissed him.

I found it hard to breathe. The smell of his aftershave was powerful and the feel of his lips on mine so intimate, the sensation of his tongue in my mouth was exciting and the feel of his day's growth of beard was very masculine. The feel of his arms around me was so reassuring and the pressure of his hard cock pressing into my stomach was so fucking horny I felt in fear of being made to cum there and then.

It would all have been fair game had we been in my home or a hotel but, in one of the changing rooms in Harrods, the most famous and probably most upscale department store in the world, it was too far. Wasn't it? Later, I was pretty sure that it was too far but at the time I didn't. It was far without doubt but, as he slid his hand just slightly up the inside of my top at the back, the feel of his fingers on my bare skin made me shudder and I forgot about how far and whether is too much or not.

He ran them across my tummy just above the top of my jeans and then slipped his fingers into the waistband which was not too very tight. As we kissed, he pushed his fingers further down into,y jeans until they found the elastic waistband of my knickers. He yanked that upward, causing the gusset to be pulled tightly against both the lips of my pussy and my clit, immediately generating an undeniably nice feeling.

I did not mean to make a noise or say anything, but I could not stop myself. "Oooo fuck, oh God," I groaned as the sensations from beneath my waist combined with those above it. It seemed that my body had now won the battle with my mind, the question left to answer, though, was had it lost just the battle but the whole war as well. I was being stimulated everywhere: my mouth, lips and tongue, my breasts and nipples, my bum, pussy, clit and my stomach. With one hand on my breasts and the other down the back of my jeans near to the crease in my bottom, he squeezed and caressed me as he writhed his hard cock firmly against my belly.

I kept alternating between telling myself this was crazy and that we should top and silently agreeing with him that it was bloody marvellous and we should continue. But what if one of the sales assistants worked out how long I had been in there and if any had seen Nick come in as well?

My back was against the wall, but he had pulled my body away from it, from the waist down. He pushed his knee between my legs, opening them before he positioned himself between them. Taking his hand away from my breast and grabbing my ass, he pushed his other hand into my jeans grabbing the other cheek, this one though was gripping my bare flesh. He then pulled me hard against his erection.

I was mad, I was convinced of that. We were mad, it was all mad. To be going this far in a changing room, to be starting to have sex with him and to be letting him do these things to me was crazy. Yes crazy, immoral, demeaning, wrong, very sordid and excitingly dangerous. Also, it was so bloody exciting but what if we got caught? However, those thoughts soon left me well they didn't leave but I pushed them aside and thrust them from my sexually befuddled mind. They were being replaced with feelings of such powerful desire, sexual want, need almost, freedom, empowerment and just sheer horniness that I knew I was now putty in his hands. Not just in his hands, though, but also by his thigh that was now between my legs pressed firmly against my crotch that I was starting to hump. What the fuck am I doing, I groaned to myself?

But as I found myself thinking, 'This is as near to being fucked as you can be, while still having clothes on,' I heard people talking outside the room and panicked thinking it might be the salesperson and she might come in so I pushed Nick off and said. "Stop we can't."

"Can't what he asked?" as he had his cock right against my mound. It was stimulating the tip of my pussy and of course my clit. Totally ignoring what I said, he pulled on my buttocks so that the pressure increased. I could not help groaning with pleasure, and arching my back even more, causing me to press myself harder against his erection and tighten my thighs around his leg. He began moving, up and down against me, sending such delicious feelings rippling through my entire body as he dry-fucked me.