We have the builders in - part 3
It had been her own idea, of course, for her friend Suzanne to take the erotic photographs, the latest stage in a gradual build-up of erotic desire, her late in life awakening.
She had only recently realised that she might be an exhibitionist. She had never been, up to now that is, a particularly sexual human being - especially later in life. Ironically it was her husband's fault her latent sexuality was being awakened, ironic because he had long since given up on her since the menopause had set in' at forty eight, ending their sex life as unexpectedly as the arrival of a hot flush!
She had needed to use his desk top computer to access the internet and he had forgotten to clear his browser history.
That is how she had inadvertently ended up on a web site full of erotic pictures, videos and stories.
Her initial reaction was one of horror and of outraged disgust at her husband. She was confronted with sleazy videos of explicit nudity, kneeling women licking and sucking the large and fully erect penis's of men who stood over them, full stiff nipple tipped breasts being massaged by several hands, women lying on the ground masturbating, their vaginas impaled by colourful dildo's, or engaging in depraved lesbian acts...but the more she looked, the more outrage began to step aside for curiosity, she hadn't imagined people actually did such things publically or some things at all, and, despite herself, she began to explore.
She had always liked a good read, so she looked through the categories of the stories looking for something interesting, something she might not be familiar with. Then she began to read, and as she read she found herself aroused for the first time in many months, even years.
She became acutely aware of her clothing where the materials touched her body, rubbing, tickling and shifting against her skin. Still reading, she adjusted her top and felt it slipping on her bra beneath, her nipples stiffened at the touch and pressed against the cotton of the bra.
She crossed her hands over her chest, lightly flicking the protrusion of her left nipple with the fingers of her right hand, her right nipple with the fingers of her left hand, beginning with caressing, stroking, pressing, then pinching between thumbs and forefingers and gasping aloud at the sensation.
Uncrossing her arms, she began to fondle her heavy breasts through her clothing, lifting them with a hand under each one and rubbing the covered nipples with her thumbs. She continued to read, squeezing her thighs together and felt wetness between her legs. She slipped open the button of her jeans and unzipped them. Still reading, she hooked her thumbs into the waistband and dragged the jeans under her slightly raised bottom and partway down her thighs.
She sat back down and used her mouse to scroll the page up the screen, before beginning to fondle herself between her legs with her left hand, her right returning to flick and pinch her more sensitive left nipple.
Her breathing was becoming ragged, her white cotton panties were wet and slippery, she felt her lips swollen and easily parted as she slid two fingers under the cotton and directly into the hot wetness, past her knuckles to their full length.
She lifted her thighs toward her inserted fingers, but remained with her buttocks on the chair and relaxed, then tensed again, and relaxed... as she found her rhythm she gradually increased the speed of her thrusts, simultaneously continuing to flick her left nipple.
She had stopped reading and was now concentrating on her movements, her eyes were closed and head lifted as she felt her orgasm building, her fingers dripped when they were pulled out, and the sound of squelching when they were thrust back in added an incredible obscene eroticism to her arousal. When her orgasm hit it was more powerful than any she could remember and she failed to fully stifle a scream on the first wave, but managed it on the second and the third, her thighs trembled and shuddered and her thrusts were erratic and uncontrolled as the sensation too quickly faded.
After this, logging on to read became an almost daily activity, amongst the usual much less interesting list of household chores! Some stories which appealed to her she would re-read, sometimes having to search on key words when she had forgotten the story name, this led to finding more similarly arousing stories and she became aware that it was the exhibitionist stories she enjoyed the most.
After a short time, visiting the site became her first activity of the day, before she showered and dressed, but it was inevitable that soon the stories would not be enough to satisfy her, they had aroused something in her that would need to be satisfied in other ways.
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