The Sybian Room

It was a bit of a surprise that I found myself childless and divorced at the age of forty-five. I knew that my children would eventually flee the family nest, but I expected that my husband John would be with me forever. But a year and a bit after our eldest daughter left, John left too. It had been a good marriage with many years of fine times. I guess with the children gone and with our different interests, we slowly drifted apart and before we realised we had problems, it was too late. Our divorce surprised all our friends, for it was thought that Gina (that's me) and John were born to be together. I wasn't all that unhappy with my new found freedom, as a teacher I had made many friends over the years. I was content with my own company, and loneliness was never much of a problem, at night a big black cat named Felix cuddled up to keep me warm.

I know there are plenty of divorced women out there that eagerly seek a new man in their lives, but I'm not one of them. Sure I would like a bit of male company, but the thought of a new man seeing me without any clothes on was unthinkable. My once upstanding pert breasts have not defied gravity, and my waist is a little thicker than it was as a twenty year old. My once thick pubic hair is thinning, and my butt hangs a little lower than it used to. On the other hand, my legs still look good in a shortish skirt and high heels, so not all is lost. Like most women, I don't think I'm all that pretty, although my friends tell me that I am. The fact that men still look at me suggests that maybe I'm too hard on myself. With a little make up and nice clothes, I would consider myself passable at best.

I'd met my ex-husband John after leaving school and starting teacher training. While I'd experimented a little with boys in the back seats of cars, John was my first and only lover. My parents were staunch Catholics, and the sins of premarital sex were ruthlessly hammered into me, but a little experimentation didn't seem too much of a transgression at the time. I lost my virginity long before I walked down the aisle, because John and I were to be wed, that made the difference. Right through our marriage, sex was a major part of our togetherness, it was something enjoyed and cherished. As well as a wonderful man, John was a fine and adventurous lover, and even through the child full years, our lovemaking wasn't much short of rampant when the opportunities arose. Neither of us ever strayed, and at the time we separated, there were no other parties involved.

Post divorce, my sex life was a non-event with the exception my skilful fingers under the sheets. My orgasms can be elusive, sometimes they were achievable and sometimes not. For me there's nothing worse than being horny and getting close to orgasm but not quite getting there. I'm not one of those lucky women who can achieve orgasms during intercourse; mine arrive only by clitoral stimulation via fingers, or a skilful tongue. My ex could most times get me there, so I guess a lot of it is about the excitement of being with a lover.

I've never believed in those battery powered toys, the main problem is that I'm too afraid to purchase one, although my female friends continually praised their virtues. One day I might indulge myself I often told myself, but just not today. I confess that I was once tempted to allow a fellow teacher to my bed one Friday night after drinks, Bryan is a nice man whom I had always liked and admired. But I declined his kind invitation; firstly because it might cause problems in my workplace, the other reason was that I was just plain too scared. There were many nights that I regretted not going through with it, but at least Bryan was still my friend and my reputation is intact. After my divorce and settling into my new life, I threw myself into my work and the months passed me by with surprising speed. Then vacation time arrived, and I had no option to take a well earned break, but what to do with myself was the big question. I had little option but sit at home and twiddle my thumbs. But then out of the blue, I was thrown an invitation too good to turn down.

Before I go any further, I should tell you a little about my good friend Linda whom I met at the first school I ever taught at. Linda had already been teaching a few years before I arrived. She kindly took me under her wing and showed me the ropes, and over time we became very good friends. Back in those days, Linda was a tall dark haired vivacious fun loving sexual bombshell who simply lived for fun. She used men as toys to be played with and then discarded at will. My good Catholic moralistic upbringing was sorely tested by this young woman who seemed to be having much more fun than me. She laughed at my sexual inadequacies, being content with John as my only lover through life seemed absurd to her. Variety was the spice of life she often told me, there was nothing more exciting than taking a new lover between her thighs and finding just out how good he was going to be. "What about love and commitment?" was always my reply, to which she would just laugh and roll her eyes.

As time moved on, I married and eventually left teaching to start a family. Linda moved away to other schools and we kind of kept in touch by mail, however, the frequency of our communications improved when email arrived on the scene. By this time, Linda had twice been married and divorced due to her confessed philandering; it would seem that monogamy just wasn't for her. She immigrated to Toronto, Canada and later set up house with a university professor called Clive. What surprised me was that fact Clive was a good looking dark skinned man, I should point out that mixed relationships was another taboo drummed into me by my parents. I don't consider myself a racist, but I never dated a dark man either, so what does that make me? Anyway, Linda extended an invitation for me over to Toronto and stay with her and Clive. At first I politely declined as I didn't want to be a stick in the mud. But Linda managed to change my mind in her usual energetic manner, and a few weeks later I found myself excitedly soaring high above the clouds in a 747.

I have to admit to a little jealousy when Linda picked me up from the airport, for it would seem that she hadn't aged one bit in the many years we'd been apart. There she was, all bubbling with emotion while looking fantastically good with a beautifully made up face, and her trim figure squeezed into a very tight pair of jeans. Without wanting to appear bitchy or anything, I felt kind of frumpy next to her. But on the long drive towards home, Linda soon put me at ease with her unchanged diabolically warped sense of humour. We were soon giggling like a couple of adolescent schoolgirls, but she always had that effect on me. Linda eventually got down to sex and inquired what had gone on since my divorce; she nearly drove off the road when I informed her that there had not been another man in my bed since John left. She informed me that at our ripe old age, we had only twenty good summers left in our lives, and half of those were going to be as old women. If I was going to have fun, now was the time to do it she told me. A flippant remark, but it hit the right spot and got me thinking about my future.

I quickly changed the subject and asked about Clive, which produced a cheeky smile. A good man, I was told, rich, funny, good looking and a devilish bastard in bed, which was a little more information than I expected. Linda told me Clive was the only man she had remained faithful to, which was quite something if you knew her as I did. Eventually, the discussion drifted away from sex to something more important, like clothes shopping. As many women would agree, this was quite a major topic and lasted long after we arrived at her home.

Clive and Linda lived in a large corner apartment of a tall building, it was luxurious and the massive floor to ceiling windows boasted views of the city to die for. Linda showed me to my room, and after disposing of my bags gave me a guided tour of the apartment. All went well until Linda pointed to a closed door with a combination lock and advised me that it was the Sybian room. Not having heard the term before, I inquired as to exactly what the hell was a Sybian room? She gave me one of her cheeky smiles and then punched in a four digit code. The inside was set up like a small lounge, a large screen TV and a home theatre sound system. At the other end of the windowless room was a low couch that had been extended out into a double bed. On the floor near the bed sat a black leather contraption shaped like a saddle, on the top protruded a pink penis shaped object. Linda chuckled as she eased it away from the bed a little and straddled it leaving the penis pointed upwards just in front of her jeans. She then picked up a small control box and held it up to me.

"This, my dear is a Sybian, and the best little toy that god invented." Linda suggested. "I've had more orgasms on this thing than all my men put together."

"That's disgusting." is all I could muster.

Linda laughed, "Oh boy, its disgusting alright, disgustingly good. See this little part here in front of the cock; it vibrates right on your clit. Drives me wild."

"It's still disgusting."

She ignored my comment, "You can adjust the speed and everything with these knobs, its fucking great. I like to sit on it while Clive controls the speed, sometimes I have to beg for my orgasm."

"And you're disgusting too." I added.

"Oh, really." Linda replied as she climbed off the Sybian. "And when did you last have an orgasm little miss smarty pants?"

A sore point I admitted.

Linda told me that this was their private sex room, their exterior bedroom walls were all glass and they liked the view of the city when in bed, and the curtains were hardly ever drawn. My guided tour continued, but a short time later, the jet lag caught up with me and I escaped to my bed.

By the time I arose, Clive had arrived home and Linda made the introductions. I could see why Linda had been attracted to him; he made me swoon as he took his hand in mine. Clive was a tall man, lean but wide shouldered, his thick dark hair was peppered with grey giving him a most distinguished look. He was better than good looking, and what I would consider very handsome. His flawless skin was the colour of light caramel, and looked good against the dark well tailored suit he was wearing.

As soon as he spoke, I was drawn to this charismatic man. His strange accent and perfect pronunciation was something special, but what he said also measured and interesting. He captivated me over our first meal together, and I couldn't help but think how lucky Linda was to have him all to herself, especially when he was supposed to be so good in bed.

Through my life, black men have been sort of taboo, and I would never have seriously considered one as a lover. But it wasn't all about desire; just being in Clive's company was enough. As the first days passed by, Clive made me laugh, and many times made me giggle like a young child. Other times he would astound me with his matter of fact wisdom, his deep voice capturing my attention. To sum it all up, I just loved being in his company, and both he and Linda made me feel most welcome. During the day, Linda and I did womanly things, like shop, visit cafés and generally fool around, at night Clive would join us.

While Linda too was supposed to be on vacation, she was called in for a teacher only day at the school. That left me to sleep in, which was a well deserved novelty. But before leaving for school that morning, Linda bounced into my bedroom and woke me up. She grinned mischievously handing over a small brown paper bag. She told me on the bag was written the code for the Sybian door, and in the bag were my own personal attachments. Amid my sleepy disinterest, Linda gave instructions on how the attachments fitted to the machine. Then after wishing me a morning of good selfish fun, she bid me goodbye. I laughed at her audacity, for at the time sleep seemed much more important.

I woke and rose late morning, then showered. It was only under the steaming hot water of the shower did my thoughts turn to the Sybian room. I confess that my interest slowly mounted, and my hands gently teased my nipples and inner thighs. Linda's invitation to try out her toy was becoming difficult to resist, and when my fingers eventually slipped through my pussy lips to my clitoris, it was but a short time before I submitted. After getting out of the shower and drying myself, I donned my dressing gown and retrieved the brown paper bag from my bed. Seconds later I had punched in the door code, entered the Sybian room and took in my surroundings.

My eyes quickly fell upon the Sybian which I eased away from the wall and into the middle of the room. I crouched beside the strange looking contraption and examined the smooth black saddle with my hands. There were two cords running from it, one for the mains power which was unplugged, the other connected to a control box with a switch and two knobs. I reached over and plugged the machine into the power, then inquisitively toyed with the control box. From the paper bag Linda had given me, I removed two soft pink attachments. Both were penis shaped placed in the middle of a long ridged base. The bases seemed the same, only the size of the penis differed, one around two inches long and the other about five. It didn't take long to work out that the ridge on the base was for clitoral stimulation, which was of most interest to me. By this time, my curiosity and arousal had overcome my nerves, and the smaller attachment was quickly fitted to the machine.

I lifted my dressing gown as I straddled the Sybian and positioned myself over the penis; then nervously lowered myself onto it. Its short two inches penetrated me easily, but I promised myself that I would warm it up a little next time, if there was a next time. This was the first time that an object other than my fingers had been inside me since John had left, and it felt mighty strange. I moved my pussy gently up and down the protruding ridge of the base, and a little spasm flowed through me as my clitoris was stimulated for the first time. And then I reached for the controller.

I wisely turned both of the knobs right down, and then moved the on/off button. I jumped as the machine came to life, and for the next few seconds experimented with the controls. One seemed to control the speed of the vibration, the other the movement of penis inside me. I minimised the penis movement for it did little for me, leaving me then to explore the vibration control. As the speed picked up, the direct contact on my clitoris was electric, the pleasure immediate and intense. I slowly wound the speed up, and it didn't take long to deduce that my clitoris was in love. By the time that I'd hit three quarter speed, I was writhing in pure ecstasy with huge flashes of pleasure rippling through me. My dressing gown was undone and thrown across the room, and I then settled down to business.

There seemed to be a speed about halfway on the control that most interested me, I then placed the control on the carpet beside me and settled in for the ride. With my pussy well taken care of, I allowed my fingers to tease my nipples which are most sensitive during sex. I soon found that placing a little backwards pressure on the penis heightened my pleasure; my clitoris seemingly jammed between the external and internal devices. I could feel the juices of my arousal running down my inner thighs making the saddle a little slippery beneath me.

I was astonished at the speed of which my orgasm approached, I leaned forward and placed my hands on the carpet to support me. I grinned at the sight of my breasts swinging beneath me as I gyrated upon the Sybian, and then closed my eyes as my orgasm hit me.

I heard myself cry loudly as pure ecstasy rippled through my body, the intensity unlike anything I'd ever known before. I pushed back a little on the penis and cried a second time as wave after wave of pleasure racked my brain, my erratic gyrating tilting the Sybian from side to side. But the machine didn't stop like a well trained finger or tongue might, it kept attacking me, and for second after second it tortured me until I had the good sense roll forward and away from it. I lay on the floor weakened and confused as the machine continued to vibrate noisily behind me in protest that it had been abandoned. It took some time before I had regained my senses enough to switch it off, but I remained splayed out on the warm carpet in a post orgasmic slumber.

I lost track of time before I returned to the real world, it could have been only seconds or minutes, who knows? Eventually I pulled myself into a sitting position and leaned back on the low bed. I gazed over at the contraption that had taken me to a place I'd never been, and had awoken me from my sexual ignorance. The black saddle was wet and shiny from my juices, the penis standing upright in victory. I opened my legs, and leaning forward unashamedly examined my pussy as best as a girl can. My lips were gaping and my clitoris red and engorged. I touched it tenderly with my finger and jumped at its sensitivity, beneath, my opening was sopping wet and burning hot. I laughed loudly, and promised to thank Linda for the use of her machine. I hooked the control box closer with my foot, and spent the next few minutes putting the machine through its places while I watched with interest from a few feet away.

In the past, I've mostly lost interest in sex after orgasm, but this day my interest refrained from dwindling. I found myself fitting the other larger attachment to the Sybian, and then slowly mounting it. While the penis was bigger, its size diminished my concentration on clitoral stimulation, and after a short time I changed back to the original smaller head, and then the fun began.

I found by slowing down the speed, I could manage multiple smaller orgasms, which I'd never previously experienced. At my advancing age, I never suspected that there was anymore to my sexuality, and I selfishly preyed on extracting every little orgasm I could muster. By this time my body was running with sweat, my pussy sore but still greedy, and my clitoris punished to an almost numb state. I eventually crawled away from the damned machine a broken woman, but happy in every way. After cleaning the machine and my own little toys, I showered and staggered back into my bed for well earned rest. But later in the early afternoon I returned to the Sybian, and again rode it until I could no longer. For the first time in my life, I was a woman possessed, and I knew no shame as each orgasm ripped through me.

Guess what the first thing Linda asked me about when she returned home that day? Did you try it out she asked, and my big grin was all that she needed to know that I had. Over coffee, we discussed the Sybian as only good friends could. She too was surprised the pleasure it provided the first time she took it for a ride. It had been Clive's idea to buy it, at first she had been against it, but after the first ride, she forgave him. She told me how Clive liked to watch her on it, and how sometimes he would control her orgasms. But she admitted while she loved the Sybian, there was nothing better than a nice hard cock, especially Clive's. I confessed to the number of orgasms it gave me, and how I'd never experienced more than one at the hands of fingers or a tongue. Linda confessed to having both vaginal and clitoral orgasms, but the clitoral were much stronger.

Our discussion on sex continued, and Linda told me about other things she'd done, group sex, and anal included. She liked threesomes with two guys, but had not yet shared a guy with another girl, although that did interest her. She told me about going to a swingers club one night many years back, and had sex with three different guys. She didn't intend to get involved, but watching others doing it excited her too much not to. My surprise at her confession was scoffed at. Linda asked me a little about how I felt, which for me was more about being alone than sex. It had been an unusual and an emotional day for me, and for some silly reason I burst into tears. Like a good friend should, Linda took me into her arms and consoled me. She then made me laugh by offering me the use of the Sybian anytime I wished.