Jane_(0)

Jane and I go back some years. When my wife first started riding, Jane had her horse in the same stables. Over the years things changed but Jane and my wife tended to go to the same events, and for a while Jane provided transport for my wife’s horse as well as her own.

Let me describe Jane. She is about my height and is slim built with firm B-cup perky breasts and a neat waistline above the tightest pair of firm round buttocks and incredibly long legs. But despite that description of any man’s dream it is her facial features that most attract me. She has an elfin look with high cheekbones, a firm jaw and large expressive lips. Her hair, brunette, is sometimes worn long, but I prefer when she wears it short, brushed in on each side of her face, very modern and chic. But her biggest asset is her unbridled energy and enthusiasm, her zest for life, which envelops all who meet her. And like many such women, she loves to be the focus of attraction to men and is at her most enticing when flirting outrageously.

She is married to Frank, though he is one of those husbands who does not seem to appreciate his luck and spends most of his free time on the golf course and never accompanies Jane to any of her horse activities. He appears to be quite oblivious to her charms and to the fact that other men absolutely adore her. my wife and I went to dinner at their house once, and I remember towards the end of the evening Frank saying that Jane had three interests in life: food, horses and sex. He said this as though he couldn’t understand why anyone would be interested in any of these (he was a bore on his Atkins diet). Jane retorted with some remark about his only being interested in golf, said in such a way as to suggest that he had no interest in sex at all. As my wife is not greatly interested in sex, I half suspected this little charade had been staged for my benefit by Jane, and I tucked away this information for future use.

I have some clear images of Jane, in the stable yard in voluminous overalls that left all appreciation of the body within to the imagination but equally left me wondering what if anything she wore beneath the shapeless garment. She has a way of making the least glamorous garb seem sexy and suggestive. I remember her dressed for a competition, a crisp white blouse clearly outlining her firm pert breasts, her cream jodhpurs skin tight round her buttocks, no panty line visible, tight over her flat belly rising just slightly towards her mons and subtly outlining her sex lips before clinging to her slender but muscular thighs above her black polished leather riding boots. And I remember her too in more casual garb, a sweatshirt hugging her breasts and the tightest pair of fashion jeans, hugging her long slender legs and at least a two inch gap where her upper thighs met her crotch, again the fabric hugging her sex lips, enough to drive any observant red blooded male to distraction. But I am sure it was no accident and she dressed to present her charms to men in a subtle and stylish way, as part of her constantly flirtatious nature.

I suppose she is in her late 30s or perhaps even early 40s, though she could easily pass for much younger. She has a teenage daughter, though her body shows none of the ravages of motherhood that beset so many women. She works in marketing and we shared over the years the ups and downs of corporate office life, commiserating with one another and sharing our triumphs. We generally got on very well, and I have noticed that she always greeted me first and my wife only as an afterthought, and spent longer chatting to me than to my wife who was generally busy about the horse. She flirted with me a great deal, I always encouraged her, and I was always pleased to see her.

But I then heard that she had given up her interest in horses and unsubstantiated rumours she had split from Frank, and for about a year I never saw her, except one day across a garden centre café where I was with my wife and she was with a female friend.

And then one afternoon in the city centre I bumped into her. She wore those jeans and a smart little jacket over a loose blouse, with the top couple of buttons undone. She inevitably gave me a big grin and greeted me as a long lost dear friend

“Hi, long time no see, its lovely to bump into you again after all this time. How’s things? How’s your job, are they keeping you busy? You’re looking well, but then you always did look great. How’s your wife and the horse? I hear they have been winning competitions recently?”

Noting she had played up to me before mentioning my wife which was par for the course, I laughed and replied

“Hey, easy up there, that’s a lot of questions. And just look at you, you’re looking more gorgeous than ever, you sexy temptress! How are you doing? Do you fancy a coffee and a chat?”

I wasn’t about to let her slip from my clutches again.

“Yes, that would be great. I’ve got the afternoon off, so if you’ve got time in your busy schedule, super.”

“For you I make time” I replied and she laughed easily. I suggested a rooftop café overlooking the Castle and we got ourselves a quiet corner table and ordered coffee and muffins. She sat with her back to the rest of the café so I had her full attention. She held my eye as she removed her jacket, and the twinkle hinted at the significance of disrobing. Her blouse was sexily suggestive rather than revealing, the open buttons showing her long neck and throat, a promise of other delights to unveil.

“So had you heard that I’d given up the horse?” she said when our coffee arrived. She leant forward to pour cream into her cup and for a brief but I felt sure calculated instant the neck of her blouse dropped forward and I glimpsed the fullness of her breasts as she moved. I couldn’t make up my mind whether she wore a bra or they were au naturale. She smiled and I knew she was playing with me again.

“Yes, I had heard” I said, adding “For someone whose three interests according to Frank were food, the horse and sex, without the horse and with your delightfully slender figure which suggests that food is not on your mind all day long, it sounds to me like you might be having an interesting life. Speaking of which how is Frank?”

She laughed with me and apparently subconsciously undid another button on the blouse. As she faced away from the rest of the café, only I could appreciate what she was doing.

“Oh, had you heard that Frank and I have separated? He was only interested in his golf and with his Atkins diet he was boring on the food front too. And how I wish life was really interesting on the sex front. If only life could be pleasure all day long. But of course when Frank said sex was one of my three interests he was really complaining that I had a greater and wider interest in such matters than he had. He was my first real boyfriend you know and we got married young, but sex was pretty mechanical and after our daughter was born he lost interest. I have been faithful to him through our marriage even though it has been very frustrating. But I have always been very curious and although my experience is very middle class and limited I yearn to stretch my wings and really fly sometimes. I suppose my capacity for fantasising is highly developed and I would describe myself as broad-minded. But I have never been with anyone but Frank and it’s a bit scary to think of going with someone new and perhaps experimenting and broadening my experience. I got really fed up with him and with nothing else in common we parted now that our daughter Pamela is 16. I now have a small flat in the village and he has kept the house. But I don’t exactly have a queue of admirers waiting to stoke the flames of passion.”

This last was said with a cheeky grin and she held my look a few seconds longer than necessary to convey to me her unspoken message. She leant forward again to pick up her coffee cup, and this time there was no doubt, her breasts were gloriously unsupported. I made sure she noticed my look linger on her cleavage before with a mutually conspiratorial smile, we continued.

“But what about you and your wife?” she asked.

It was now or never.

“Well its strangely much the same story. I am afraid my wife is interested in horses and the garden and very little else. In over 10 years together our intimacies amount to giving my wife foot and back massage to ease her aches and pains but I have to say, as you have been so honest with me, that I can do no more than the occasional cuddle, or a brief caress of her breasts before being brushed away and she has resolutely never allowed any contact below the waist beyond one or two reluctant attempts at intercourse before we were married. And she has never attempted to satisfy my needs as you might expect a dutiful wife to. Even if intercourse is difficult for her in some way she is unwilling to explain, I have a “good Scots tongue in my head” and I am broadminded enough to give and take pleasure in other ways.