On The Journey Home

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I suppose I couldn’t really claim to be the innocent party that night, because subconsciously I knew exactly what I was doing even if I just let things happen.

I was on my way home after being away on business and I’d pulled into one of those late night places that serve lukewarm coffee and burgers that seem to be made of a cross between carpet and cardboard. At the time I wasn’t sure why I’d stopped because I only had another thirty or forty miles to go, but I figured later that it was because I just didn’t want to face going home.

The reason for that was that I was pretty certain my husband was cheating on me, and so I’d told him I’d be away for a couple of days longer than I actually expected to be, with the intention of catching him in the act when I got home unexpectedly early. But in reality I was scared of the truth, petrified that I was right and he’d be in our matrimonial bed with another woman, and so I was putting off the inevitable confrontation. Yeah, I know, cowardly isn’t it? You’d think that a thirty-four year old business woman who was used to facing down highflying men in their own boardroom would be able to cope with a cheating spouse in her own bedroom wouldn’t you, but that’s the way it was. And so there I sat, head down, a soulful look on my face, gazing into my muddy coffee and wondering what to do next.

‘Are you all right?’

The voice brought me out of my gloomy reverie and back into the real world with a bump. I looked up and gazed around, startled.

‘Are you okay?’ The voice repeated.

It came from the next table across, where a smart blonde woman in a blue summer dress was staring across at me and looking very concerned.

‘Yes, I’m fine.’ I assured her. ‘Just miles away in thought.’

‘You looked worried to death.’

‘A few things on my mind, that’s all.’

She slid across and came to sit opposite me, still wearing a mother hen look. She was a few years older than me and probably for that reason her action seemed to show genuine concern rather than nosiness.

‘Anything I can do?’ She said. ‘I’m good at listening if nothing else.’

‘Just marital problems.’ I told her, glad of someone to talk to, but not wanting to go into too many details. ‘Being married isn’t always easy.’

‘Sometimes I’m glad I’m single,’ She told me with a smile, raising a ring-free finger to show me.

‘Sometimes I wish I was.’

She seemed to understand that it would be a good time to change the subject. ‘I’m Celia, by the way. What brings you this way anyway?’

‘Barbara, or Babs when I’m not working.’ I introduced myself. ‘I’ve been away on business, now I’m on my way home and don’t really want to be.’

‘Oh dear, things must be really bad if this place is preferable.’ She swept a hand around to indicate our shabby surroundings. ‘But then I suppose any place is better then somewhere you don’t want to be.’

Her perceptive remark had me nodding in agreement and I was soon able to relax a little. Before long we were chatting about life in general and nothing in particular and I found that I enjoyed her company, so much so that the time slipped past without my noticing. Or maybe I was noticing it but my mind was pretending not to. In any case it wasn’t until the waitress came over to say that they were closing that I was made properly aware of how late it was.

‘Damn.’ I said, looking out and watching raindrops glittering in the streetlights and bouncing from the asphalt surface of the road. ‘I hate night driving in the rain.’

‘Far to go?’ She asked.

‘Further than I’d like in this weather.’ I prevaricated without understanding why.

‘So why not stay over somewhere and drive on tomorrow.’

‘Good idea, except that it’s too late to book in anywhere now.’

‘Yes, perhaps it is.’ She nodded thoughtfully before her face abruptly brightened. ‘But you can stay at mine if you like, I’m only just up the road and I have a spare room.’

I still couldn’t face the possibility of finding my husband with his mistress and so the unlikelihood of such an invitation didn’t hit me then. ‘Thank you, I’d like that. If you’re sure.’

Her place was indeed just up the road, only a couple of hundred yards from where we had met, and at the time it never occurred to me to wonder why she was sitting in a cafe when she lived so close. It was quite a small two bedroom house, with a small front yard and neat little porch that was just big enough for us both to shelter in while she fiddled for the key.

‘Come in, I’ll make some coffee.’

She ushered me through into a compact but very warm and comfortable lounge whilst she disappeared into the kitchen. But it wasn’t coffee she was carrying when she came back, but a brandy bottle and two glasses. I must admit that I’m not a big drinker, alcohol quickly goes to my head, but it would have seemed rude to refuse and anyway brandy was a welcome alternative to the coffee I’d endured earlier.

We carried on chatting while working our way through xnxx a couple of glasses of brandy each, and this time we did talk a little about our personal lives. Celia had never been married, and so her question about why I didn’t simply retaliate in kind just sounded a little naïve more than anything. I had been tempted, by a sales rep the night before for one, and I told her so, but I’d never seriously considered it. “I would” she informed me, and I believed her.

Eventually it became late and I began to yawn, and so she excused herself while she went to get my room ready. I was feeling a lot better by then, relaxed, contented and quite mellow, and perhaps that is why I didn’t react when she came back with a strange look on her face.

‘I’ve got a problem, Babs.’ She began. ‘I’d forgotten I’d got decorators coming in, and the spare bedroom has been stripped ready for them. There’s no way you can sleep there.’

My hand flew to my mouth with sudden panic. ‘But I can’t drive after drinking all that brandy.’

‘Don’t worry about it, it’s my mistake, I should have remembered. You can sleep in my bed and I’ll sleep down here on the sofa.’

‘But I can’t kick you out of your own bed.’

‘Yes you can. It’s my fault, I invited you and I gave you the brandy.’

I still didn’t feel comfortable with the idea; it was too much of an imposition on a comparative stranger.

‘No I can’t.’ A sudden thought went through my head. ‘Is it a double bed? Because if it is we can both sleep together, if you can stand sharing that is?’

‘Well yes, we can, but are you sure you’d want to?’ She asked doubtfully.

Normally, of course, I’d not have dreamed of sharing a bed with a strange woman, but brandy and necessity said otherwise.

‘Of course I’d want to, I’m just grateful for a bed for the night.’

It was also brandy that banished any coyness as we both got ready. I kept my panties on under my nightshirt because removing them seemed a step too far, but otherwise I had no qualms about undressing in front of Celia, or she in front of me. In fact she made no attempt to hide the fact that she shaved her pubes when she stepped out of her briefs before pulling on her pyjamas. It must be said that she had a fabulous body for someone probably in her early forties, her large breasts were still firm and her stomach was as flat as a pancake. My own rounded belly and slightly pendulous breasts could take lessons.

We climbed into bed together, Celia leaned out to switch off the bedside light and then we said our goodnights and settled down for sleep.

I’m not sure how long it was, but I’d reached that hazy plateau somewhere between waking and sleeping when I felt a soft touch against my back. At first I took it to be an accidental touch from a hand stretched out in sleep, but then I felt it move, lightly caressing my back, gently but deliberately stroking me through the thin cotton of my nightshirt. There was nothing else, just the soft touch of her hand wandering over my back.

I suppose I should have reacted, made it indignantly clear that I wasn’t that sort of woman, that I wasn’t gay or even bisexual, but it felt nice, warm and friendly, and so instead I pretended sleep and just let it continue. The surprise of it was that I wasn’t surprised. I think that somewhere at the back of my mind was the knowledge that all along Celia had been making a play for me, that all her actions had simply been a ploy to get me into her bed where she could seduce me. I’d been denying the obvious, but now I couldn’t deny it anymore. The next surprise was that I didn’t mind. My husband was getting his pleasure elsewhere so what the hell, why shouldn’t I? In any case, if it became too much to handle I could just as easily pretend to wake up and then stop her.

But just at that moment I had no intention of stopping her for a while, it was far too nice, a silent expression of warmth as her hand moved slowly and softly across my back, roaming further as she gained in confidence, touching my shoulders and then moving down to the base of my spine, to the first curve of my bottom, before making the journey back up. I just lay there and enjoyed it, struggling to control my breathing, trying not to let her know I was awake. I was beginning to get turned on whether I wanted to or not.

I wondered how long she would keep going for, wondered if she would simply stop or if she would take things further, and I wondered how I would respond if she did. I was pretty sure that she would, because I could hear arousal in her breathing, and so I was fighting a silent battle with myself, wanting it to simply carry on as it was, but only too aware that it couldn’t. But would I let her take it further? Did I want her to take it further? I didn’t know for sure one way or the other, part of me was screaming yes, but another, less adventurous part, was yelling an equally loud no, but meanwhile I just enjoyed her wandering hand.

She began to include my arm in her caresses, fondling brazzers my shoulder and then running down almost as far my wrist, her fingers moving over the short sleeve onto my skin, touching so lightly it was raising goose bumps. God, but it felt so good.

And then it felt even better. Her fingertips, moving back along my arm, touched my breast as they went past. I’m sure it was inadvertent, but that brief contact sent a jolt of pleasure through me and I couldn’t prevent a tiny murmur of pleasure escaping my lips. The time for pretence was past, and my mind had been made up for me. Celia knew I was awake now, and more significantly, she knew I was enjoying her touch. I rolled onto my back, automatically glancing sideways into the dark at where I knew she would be.

‘Okay?’ She whispered as if she knew I’d looked at her. I nodded my affirmative, then realised she wouldn’t be able to see me.

‘Yes.’ The word came out as a quiet croak. ‘I’m fine.’ I stared at the invisible ceiling, nervous but excited.

I sensed a smile and her hand began to touch me again, this time running softly over my front, stroking my arms, my stomach, my neck and my breasts, always moving, never remaining in any one place, sending thrill after thrill coursing through me. The whole thing was bothering me; I shouldn’t be liking it this much.

I wanted her to touch my breasts, to concentrate on them instead of wandering all around me, and so I deliberately let out a little pleasure sound each time her fingertips skated over them, involuntarily giving an extra loud one when she caught my nipple as she passed. She didn’t stop moving, but now her fingers paused as they reached my breasts, cupping them and squeezing a little before passing on. It was the first overtly sexual move and we both knew it, and I deliberately moaned with pleasure to encourage her.

I was sure she must have already known that I was turned on, my nipples were like bullets and my breath was getting louder to my own ears, but she still didn’t push things, she just carried on touching me with that one hand, stroking and caressing me, letting me feel comfortable with what she was doing. I knew that she would move on when she figured that she and I were both ready and until then she continued massaging my breasts, making me feel wonderful without stretching my limits too quickly.

After a while she shuffled a little closer, close enough that I could feel her breath on my face, and her hand began to wander further, reaching down over my stomach and nearly, so nearly reaching my pubic mound. I wanted to be touched more intimately, I can’t deny it. Even through my nightshirt and my panties I knew that her touch would be wonderful. I parted my legs, not a lot but enough to send the right message. Her fingers tiptoeing across my stomach felt my legs move and she responded as I had hoped, exploring further, her hand going down and down until her palm cupped my mound and I gasped with pleasure.

She moved closer still, so that I could feel her next to me, softly trapping my arm against my side. I pulled it out of the way, threading it around behind her head to rest on her shoulder in the gentle semblance of an embrace, letting her move right up against me, making me conscious of the softness of her breasts even through our clothing. I could feel her breath on my cheek and I knew our faces were only an inch or two apart, and I couldn’t help myself. I turned my face towards her, feeling her lips brush against my cheek as I turned. She backed away, but I followed, finding her lips, letting my own open mouth rest against hers, not actively kissing her but just becoming accustomed to the contact.

She moaned softly into my mouth, a sound full of both need and contentment, the first pleasure sound I had heard from her, and at the same time she pressed her hand more firmly against me, pushing down over my pubic mound so that she could rub her palm over my pussy.

That did it for me, I surrendered. She would do whatever she wanted and I would want whatever she did. My tongue sought hers and our lips moulded together as I pulled her to me, my legs opening further, telling her of my capitulation. She tugged at the hem of my nightshirt, reaching under it to press her hand against the crotch of my panties, rubbing my pussy as we kissed, making me hotter and making me want her even more. I was feeling randier than I had done for years and the beginnings of an orgasm were already building. I didn’t mind coming so quickly because I was already sure in my own mind that Celia would make me keep coming until I was totally spent. I wondered suddenly if I would be able to do the same for her.

That thought had an amazing effect on me, multiplying my arousal and bringing me closer to orgasm simply because with it I had acknowledged that wanted to touch her, to give her pleasure, to make her come as strongly as I was on the verge of doing. I pulled my mouth free, wrapped both arms around her and held her close, hugging her fiercely sikiş izle as my climax drew nearer.

‘Harder.’ I gasped ‘I’m coming.’

My hips started to rotate of their own free will; I really was going to come.

‘Come then,’ She whispered back, rubbing me through ever more forcefully through the thin material of my panties. ‘I want you to.’

I wanted to come for her, I needed to come for her, I did come for her. My orgasm was like an explosion inside me, shock waves rushing out from my pussy and surging all the way through me, making me arch my back and grab onto Celia as hard as I could. My pelvis jerked and twitched as I thrust myself at her hand, and all the time I gasped and called out incoherently. Though short, it was the strongest climax I think I have ever had and when it subsided I lay back onto the bed, gasping for breath and with my heart trying to pound its way out of my chest. Celia’s hand was still between my legs, but now it lay motionless as if to comfort my throbbing pussy.

‘You enjoyed that, didn’t you?’ The voice came from the dark, carrying with it a sort of triumphant giggle. Her smile would now be a grin, though I couldn’t see it.

‘Can you switch the light on please? Just the bedside one.’ I needed to see her face, to see if she was truly pleased with what she had done, or just gloating over another conquest.

‘Yes, sure.’ She sounded curious, but I heard her moving up to reach for the light switch.

‘I’m a lights on sort of person.’ I explained, breathlessly telling a partial truth as the warm yellow glow of the little bedside light spread over us.

‘Me too.’ She was kneeling on the bed gazing down at me, and the expression on her face seemed to contain genuine warmth. I smiled at her, happy now.

For a moment or two we just smiled at each other, sexy thoughts running through our heads, and then she began to unbutton her pyjama top.

‘Good idea.’ I told her, and scrambled to my knees, reaching for the hem of my nightshirt at the same time.

‘You look good.’ She announced as I dropped my nightshirt over the edge of the bed. I looked back at her, dressed now only in her pyjama bottoms, and thought how wonderfully sexy she looked too. I’d not looked at her in that way when we got into bed, but now I wondered why not.

‘I’m not on my own.’ I replied, taking in her youthfully feminine figure, unable to ignore her full breasts with long dark nipples so erect and inviting.

Again we just stared at each other for a few moments and then her hand came out towards me, her fingertips surprisingly hesitant as they stroked my breasts. I closed my eyes, soaking up the sensation of Celia’s fingers just lightly going from one breast to the other, hardly touching with anything more than gentle fingernails skating over my skin. It was a delightfully erotic feeling, made even more so by my still being hot and shaky from my orgasm, and it was almost too beautiful to bear.

‘Oh Celia.’

I opened my eyes and moved towards her, still on my knees, until we were up against each other, her hard nipples pressed very softly onto the soft skin of my breasts. Unable now to easily move her hand between us, she suddenly wrapped both arms around me and pulled me close, squeezing her bullet nipples into my flesh, making me gasp softly, partially from the embrace and partially from the absolutely wonderful feeling of being in another woman’s arms. My arms went around her too as if of their own volition, and we hugged, cheek to cheek, body to body, both naked to the waist and enjoying the feeling of skin on skin, and for me the novel sensation of soft female skin under my hand, so different from a man’s.

It was inevitable that we would kiss again, and we did, gently at first, then with increasing passion until we were forcing our mouths together, tongues probing, fencing, licking and tasting, moaning and murmuring, and ultimately gasping for breath. Her fingers around my back were biting fiercely into my flesh, hurting me, but pleasurably so because the discomfort told me how strongly Celia wanted me, as I did her. Soon her grip loosened a little, although we continued to kiss just as eagerly, and one hand began a cautious journey down my back. I knew where it was headed and my heart pounded faster in response.

She did not go straight for her target, instead she ran her hand down onto my bottom, stroking and fondling my buttocks through the cotton of my panties, making me groan with pleasure and anticipation. It seemed forever that she gently circled, and caressed me, although it cannot have been ore than a couple of minutes before she pulled her hand back onto my spine, leaving me in a frustrated panic for a split second before I realised what she intended.

Her fingertips found their way under the waistband of my panties, wriggling their way around to the front and then down until they were brushing through my pubic hair, seeking my slit. I wanted to be touched, played with, anything so I spread my legs wider to encourage her, trying not to lower myself out of her reach by doing so.

‘I can see what you want.’ She chuckled sexily into my ear. ‘But shall we get rid of these first?’ She twanged at the elastic of my panties.

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