Turning 40_(0)

Six months before my 40th birthday I had a bit of a mid-life crisis. I don’t know why, as I’m normally a very positive person; married with two young teenage sons and a good job as an Administrator in a large hospital. With hindsight I guess I was bored and worried that my life was slipping away from me but that’s no excuse for my behaviour.

In early May I was invited to a birthday party in the centre of town for one of the young nurses. I would normally have made my excuses and not gone but this time I accepted. As we live in the countryside, about 17 miles from town hubby I volunteered to drop me off and pick me up; although I knew he wouldn’t be happy with staying sober enough to collect me at midnight.

When I arrived in town and saw what the others were wearing I felt old and dowdy in my glasses, smart trousers, blouse and cardigan when everyone else was in skirts or dresses and looked exciting and sexy compared to me. I still had a good night, drinking, dancing and even laughing. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d laughed as much and the evening flew by.

I was correct about hubby’s mood when he collected me; he had a face like a smacked arse. When we got home I wanted sex; but he was already asleep when I came out of the bathroom, so as usual I had to make to with a silent diddle under the covers.

The party was a big topic of conversation the following week at work and I was invited out again with a bunch of co-workers who regularly hit the Town on a Friday night but I politely refused and regretted it, when Friday came and hubby was fast asleep, pissed on cheap lager at 10pm. I left him snoring and went to bed where I tearfully pledged that I would go out with the girls the following week.

When I told my story the following Monday Kim, one of the staff-nurses offered her spare room for me to stay in if hubby wouldn’t pick me up. Still angry, I agreed. Of course Hubby wasn’t happy; but he reluctantly agreed when I said I would drive there myself and leave the car over night and drive home in the morning, without having to bother him.

Friday came around quickly enough and I excitedly drove to Kim’s house on the other side of town. I found the house easily enough and was pleasantly surprised when her rather handsome husband answered the door with a glass of wine in his hand for me. He ushered me upstairs where Kim was still getting dressed. Her bedroom door was wide open as I walked along the landing. Kim was sitting in front of a large mirror tonging her hair as I entered her boudoir. We chatted as she finished her hair and applied the finishing touches to her make up.

By the time it came to choose her dress her husband had joined us with the wine bottle. Kim was just over 5 feet tall and had curves in all the right places, her husband on the other hand was about 6 feet tall, with shoulder length wavy hair and a chiselled face. He had the look of a Rock star, especially as he wore very tight jeans and cowboy boots. He actually owned a coffee bar in a local shopping centre and played in a local band every couple of weeks. If he hadn’t been my friend’s husband he probably looked a bit pervy. It was his suggestion that she should wear a short red strapless one, but it meant she couldn’t wear a bra with it. Without a care in the world Kim dropped her silk kimono on the floor and walked past me to choose some panties. I tried not to stare; but she looked gorgeous and my eyes bulged when I realised that she was completely shaven down below. Being much younger than me Kim’s body hadn’t yet started to sag and her boobs were still quite firm for a woman with a child and her stomach was ironing-board flat. She selected a tiny white g-string and surprised me by pulling on a pair of tan hold-up stockings too.

“Isn’t the dress a bit short for stockings?” I asked as Ian topped up my wine. I was wearing a nice dress too, but it was a lot more demure and in keeping with my age and status.

“No, of course not.” Kim laughed and deliberately bent over showing off her stocking tops and an inch of milky white thigh, much to her husband’s amusement.

I finished my drink and on the taxi ride into town we chatted and I told her how sexy she looked and how my husband would be mortified if I dressed like her.

“He doesn’t have to know.” She replied with a wink, “Not if you got dressed at our house.”

I kept that thought in the back of my mind as we had another great night. The crowd I was with was smaller and slightly different from the previous week and a lot younger and rowdier. I knew a couple of girls from the hospital and was pleased that they were happy for me to join them. We went to pretty much the same bars and this time I recognised a few faces from the previous visit but still struggled to speak to any guys. One chap amused me by saying I looked like the TV Personality Carol Vordeman. Apart from having long legs and big boobs, I couldn’t see it, but a couple of the girls agreed when I told them. I felt by far the oldest person there, but for some bizarre reason still I managed to attract the attention of a couple of very young guys who wanted to dance with me and one even offered a drink, which I refused. Kim was on form, flashing her stocking tops at every opportunity and even sloppily kissing a couple of guys late in the evening; which shocked me.

We were both pretty drunk on the taxi ride home and Kim’s dress rose up her thighs quite quickly giving me and the driver a good look at her stocking tops and occasionally her panties, plus when she bent forward to pick up her bag I couldn’t help looking at her boobs and pretty pink nipples; which made me blush.

Ian was waiting up when we arrived at their house and Kim greeted him with a big kiss and drunkenly told him, ‘take me to bed and fuck the arse off me!’ Ian smiled and guided her upstairs. As I unsteadily made my way along the dark landing after going to the bathroom I heard the happy couple giggling as Kim got undressed and hummed the tune ‘the stripper.’

My head was spinning as I tried to get to sleep in the room next to theirs. Then I heard Kim’s voice, “Mmmmmmmmmm….hello Mr. Big. What should lickle Kim do to make you happy?”

Oh my God! I could hear them!

“Mmmmmmmmmm….you sure do taste nice.” I heard her giggle, “And which hole would you like to go into tonight?” Her voice was now very high and school girlish. I could then hear Ian panting and muttering for the next few minutes as I presumed my friend was gobbling his cock. By this time my hand was between my legs and my fingers diddling my clitty.

I frantically rubbed and fingered for the next 15 minutes as Kim and Ian noisily fucked like rabbits, making myself cum three times in the process. I woke the following morning with a stotting headache and when I scratched an itch on my nose I could still smell my stinky fingers.

As I tenderly made my way to the bathroom I could hear laughter and activity from downstairs as Ian and their 7 year old son Simon had breakfast and watched TV. Ten minutes later I was sitting drying my hair with only a towel wrapped around me when Ian knocked on the door and walked straight in with a cup of coffee and a bacon sandwich. I automatically clutched the towel to my chest to protect my modesty as he greeted me but it was only as he left that I realised the bottom of the towel was open and he must have seen my pubes. I blushed madly as I put my clean knickers and bra on; thinking that he must think I was some kind of tart flashing my bits like that. But it really was an accident.

Nothing was said when I took my cup and plate back to the kitchen but I swear Ian winked as I got in my car to return home. I had hardly been in the house 10 minutes when hubby took the boys to rugby practice without a word about my evening out.

Hubby gave in without an argument to my request for a Friday night out with the girls and another stop over at Kim’s house. I sort of guessed he thought I was too old and dull to get up to any mischief while he sat at home wanking his cock to a frazzle looking at porn on the computer. He thought I didn’t know, but he never cleaned out the memory so I knew exactly which sites he was looking at and for how long.

The next few weeks followed the same pattern with Kim wearing some pretty sexy and very revealing clothing then flirting outrageously with an assortment of young men. At least twice she disappeared from view for 15 or 20 minutes and came back ‘glowing’ giving me the impression that she had been up to no good.

I also began smuggling ever more cleavage revealing outfits and skirts to get changed into. At first I would disappear into the spare bedroom to dress, but as they appeared to have some kind of ‘open door’ policy Ian would barge in anyway with more wine, and catch me in various stages of undress; gradually making me get quite excited at the prospect of him seeing me in my undies. Eventually I would dress in Kim’s bedroom with Ian nonchalantly commenting on our clothes and especially our underwear!

It didn’t take me long to fit in with the ‘gang;’ and to some degree become more comfortable with the ever growing attention of my own admirers; some of whom were young enough to be my son. After a couple of months I was revelling in the new found male attention and finding it increasingly difficult not to take their advances more seriously as I let a couple kiss me or ‘get a tache on’ as the younger girls called it.

When we got back to her house Kim and Ian always had very noisy sex and I soon realised that it was possibly even for my benefit, so I started taking a Rampant Rabbit and fucked myself in time to the happy couple in masturbatory fuelled nights.