It had been on the cards for ages, probably the last five years I reckon, although we hadn’t acknowledged it. Although we got on ok a lot of the time and the sex was still pretty good though less frequent than previously, we rowed too much and were just not happy in each other’s company. We had talked about it several times and had almost seen a counsellor, but hadn’t made it, though we had tried swinging which was a major disappointment. So, we had ‘done our own things’ until we agreed that enough was enough and that we were both fed up with being married. So, we parted. At first, we agreed to a trial separation but after a couple of months by mutual consent it became semi-permanent. He lived in the house in a London suburb, I lived in the apartment in Docklands and we shared the holiday villa in Majorca. Our financial affairs were complicated and we didn’t want the traumas and financial transparency demanded by a divorce so we handled everything ourselves and agreed not to take the final step in dissolving the marriage until one of us needed the freedom.
So, there I was in the autumn and winter of 2019 ‘footloose and fancy free’ and ready to go with my new life as a single woman. However, it didn’t work out anywhere near how I had hoped and expected. And why was that? Fucking COVID of course and the lifestyle restrictions brought about by the full and partial lockdowns.
From my rather debauched lifestyle of the last few years of my marriage I had a few ‘contacts’ lined up so, for the back end of 2019 and beginning of 2020 I enjoyed myself sexually as I reacquainted myself to dating and fucking near strangers as well as a few longer-term ‘friends’. During this period when coronavirus was still some distant Chinese and then Italian thing, my husband, and I got on better apart than we had together. After initially avoiding seeing each other we became fairly comfortable at being in each other’s company, at family and school events.
Then in March 2020 life changed completely. Our pathetic excuse for a Prime Minister announced the first lockdown far too late. No travel unless essential, shops, gyms and pretty much everything else other than supermarkets and other essentials closed, we were ordered to stay at home and work there if we could and no, or as limited as it could be, mixing with strangers. I worked full time from home and with the gym closed, there were no shops, restaurants, bars or cafes open and life as I knew it was mothballed. My new life as a single woman ended almost before it had begun.
I didn’t have a steady boyfriend; I had used up my few old flames up and had little or no opportunities to meet anyone new. Overall, none of that was a great problem but the restriction on movement the and lack of sex was. I had not experienced such a situation before. Here I was a woman with thirty-plus years of active, frequent sex behind her and was now left with no other option than my fingers or my vibrator. But before that came about there was one notoriously momentous occasion.
Our son, Peter, was home from Dubai where he now lived and worked and was returning on Sunday, 15th of March, a week before the first lockdown; little did I know I wouldn’t be able to see him for such a long time after that! Sara our daughter was in her final year at school before, hopefully attending Bristol University to study law. So, we organised a family lunch on the Saturday; Peter, Sara, John, who is now my ‘nearex’, and me. And what a mistake in some ways that was.
The lunch at a local restaurant we had used for years and where we and the kids were well known was excellent, though a little tense. It was the first time since the break-up that the four of us had been alone and, of course it brought back many memories of when we were a real family and John and I were partners. It was a long, lingering lunch and it was past four when John was presented with the bill as they were closing. It was a bit of a shock when Peter said that he had to meet some of his friends to say goodbye and invited Sara to go with him.
“Might set you up with someone,” he grinned turning to Carlos and asking if he would call a cab.
Very quickly John and I were alone. ‘So, what now?’ I wondered just as John said smiling.
“So, Jayne, what now?”
I didn’t know what to say so I said nothing and sipped my wine, my third glass. He went on.
“Well what John?”
“Seems a shame to end such a nice day so early, doesn’t it?”
“Does it?” I asked half agreeing with him but not showing it.
Looking back on what happened next, as I have many times in the year or so since it happened, I am still not sure how and why half hour later we had shared a cab back to the ‘family home’ where we used to live together and were sitting in the lounge that I had furnished and decorated sipping brandy and coffee. I am even less sure how another half hour or so later I was laid back on the sofa, my blouse undone, breasts pulled out from my bra with my skirt up round my hips as we exchanged passionate artemisbet yeni giriş kisses and I rubbed his familiar erection.
However, I am quite clear as to how less than a further half hour later I was naked in the bed that I had shared with him for so many years, with his head between my opened legs enjoying a strong and long orgasm. Then, of course, we fucked and it was lovely.
Before separating I had not, of course, been able to factor into my planning and thinking the affects of the pandemic and particularly not the lockdown that Boris announced just a week or so after that lunch and the sex with John. Little was I to know that he, my estranged husband was the last man I had full sex with during the main restrictions of the pandemic! I didn’t think he would be and even as the lockdown began to bite, I still thought there were strangers, old flames and contacts to meet and enjoy. But there wasn’t and to be truthful as more news was published about the terrible disease, I was not sure I wanted sex with anyone, let alone a stranger.
The spring and early summer were tough. They were difficult in many ways but as a newly, single woman to me the most difficult to cope with was, I guess inevitably, the lack of sex. I was nearly fifty and had been sexually active since my late teens. Despite the difficulties with my marriage the sex between us had always varied from being pretty good to bloody marvellous and there had always been plenty of it. The lockdown turned a feast into a veritable famine. As a result, masturbation became my hobby or pastime, well passion really. I bought a new, larger vibrator and a ton of batteries that gave it the life my new ‘hobby’ demanded which found areas of my body that I hadn’t before realised were sensitive let alone erogenous zones. Also, I started using chat sites which, though generally disappointing in the quality of discussion, added another element to my masturbation practices! But of course, these were not enough. I realised it wasn’t just penetrative sex I was missing but also simply the intimacy of being with a man, of holding hands, being held by him, having his body against mine and kissing; God did I miss that! Continually, my body cried out to be held and stroked, I wanted to be kissed and licked, sucked and rubbed, I wanted my breasts to be nibbled and my nipples pinched but most of all, above all else, I wanted to be fucked.
In late May as England drifted towards the slight easing of what turned out to be the first of several lockdowns so I began to gain confidence that I would be able to get my new life up and running and meet potential lovers. But it wasn’t easy as we were all frightened of catching it. On top of that universities closed down and my daughter came home and stayed with me and there’s nothing like having your 20-year-old daughter living with you as a sex stopper as! However, we were able to mingle more and business activities increased a little as some went back to work and meetings with strict conditions resumed. That’s how I came to being driven home by Geoff one Thursday night in the summer of 2020.
I had known him for some years and although we had not gone all the way before we had enjoyed a few gropes, mainly drunken ones. He lived some 200 miles away from me and as I expected to drink more than the law allowed at the awards lunch, we were both attending I had got a cab from my London Docklands flat to the Savoy Hotel on the Embankment in Central London. Coming from the same award-winning team Geoff and I were seated at the same table.
“Lucky to be next to each other isn’t it Jayne?” he had said as the tables were cleared of the dinner plates and replaced with bottles of wine that were free and hard liquor that we had to pay for.
Like most such ceremonies this advertising awards dinner was boring and had little purpose unless you were going to win something. Geoff and I were not going to win anything so we had to invent our own purpose and that was sitting close together and playing footsie under the table.
With the lights down so the audience could see the ads on the screen it was quite dim and comfortably suitable for extracurricular activity for those, like us, who had no interest in what was showing on the screen. Geoff became nicely ambitious with his hands and after having his arm round my shoulders, he stroked my back and rubbed my hips and buttocks near to the base of my spine. Being tipsy I didn’t stop the odd kiss or two on my neck, his foot and leg pressing against my stockinged leg or his hand on my thigh in the thin, grey, pinstripe business suit.
“How you coping being on your own?” he asked between presentations.
“Fine I moved into that flat in Docklands we bought after the crash in 2009.”
“So, he stayed in the house?”
“Are you divorcing?”
“No, not yet, our finances are complicated and we’re happy as we are.”
“Been dating have you?”
“Actually no, the lockdown put paid to that.”
“So, am I one of artemisbet giriş the first?” he asked staring at me as there was loud applause for an award to a popular creative director.
I smiled at him and asked jokingly. “First what Geoff?”
“Whatever you’d like the first to be, date maybe, or………………….” He grinned back leaving the sentence un finished
“Actually, the very first.”
“What no sex at all?” he grinned.
Smiling, I replied. “Well, I do have a husband.”
“So, the lucky bugger’s getting his cake and eating you is he?”
I smiled at the quite clever play on words. “Well let’s just say he’s had a nibble now and then.”
“Without prying Jayne, well actually prying unmercifully when did he have his last nibble?”
“Don’t be bloody rude.”
“Don’t be silly,” he said gripping my hand between our chairs.
“Ok never mind but I take it that it’s some time.”
“Yes, you could say that,” I smiled as he lifted my hand up and placed it on his thigh.
Thankfully the presentations weren’t too dragged out and the proceedings were over by 9.00 pm,
“I take it you came by cab?” he asked as we walked towards the exit.
“Yes, I knew there would be plenty of booze.”
“So, ma’am,” he grinned. “May I offer you a lift home?”
“Yes kind sir you may, thank you.”
“You said Docklands didn’t you?”
“Yes, just fifteen minutes or so.”
“I know where bloody Docklands is, I did used to work down here, remember?”
“Oh yes of course in the good old days.”
“Well, a cup of coffee before I take on the trip to Yorkshire would be useful,” he said as we got into his Rangerover.
That made my heart beat a little faster. In my earlier days coming in for a cup of coffee was a euphemism for can I come in and fuck you so my heart beat even faster!
“Let me just check on Sara,” I said as we drove onto the embankment near Blackfriars Bridge.
“Yes, now shush. Hi mum having a good time?” Sara said in response to my hello.
“Yes very,” I told smiling her at Geoff as I went on to ask. “What you up to?”
She told me that her friend who was at uni with her and she were studying and would be all evening.
“Put paid to your coffee I’m afraid,” I told Geoff explaining the situation.
“Fuck,” he said grinning at me.
“Put pays to that as well,” I smiled back.
“Does it really have to Jayne?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, it’s dark and I’m sure you must know somewhere.”
His clear desire for me was exciting and I felt my pulses racing at the thought of having sex for the first time in months. This was the longest I could remember going without it for ages, probably my late teens and I was very tempted to jump at the offer. However, common sense prevailed.
“Don’t be daft we’re not teenagers.”
“What’s that got to do with it?”
“It’s too late for a hotel and I’m a bit old for having sex in a car?”
“Why have you had it in a car recently?”
“No of course not., have you?”
“No, I get none at home now and nor do you it seems. I bet you haven’t been eaten for some time have you?”
Smiling at that I quipped back as we stopped at traffic lights. “And I don’t intend being eaten in the back of car today either.”
Looking across at me Geoff put his hand on my leg a few inches up from my knee and said. “Come on Jayne you know we’ve been leading up to it, at least a kiss and cuddle.”
“What now?” I asked as he slid his hand up a little until the side of it was just under the hem of the skirt of my suit.
“Well not right here but somewhere quiet.”
We verbally duelled about that for a few minutes until light-heartedly but deeper down seriously I agreed with myself to do it as he said.
“You must know somewhere.”
“Geoff this is silly, why not just drop me off and take on the drive home.”
“Jayne,” he said quietly and intensely. “You know as well as I do that this has been on the cards for ages.”
“Yes love you do don’t you?”
“Ok take the next on the left.”
I directed him towards an area of allotments and open space near to City Airport.
“This where you usually take your boyfriends when Sara’s home is it?” he rather thoughtlessly and insensitively joked. I decided to combat that with humour.
“Chance’d be a fine thing,” I grinned.
“Only joking love,” he replied.
The area I had directed Geoff to was part of the Epping Forest massive 10,000 acre complex running from the East End of London in the south to the town of Epping in the north. We found a car park surrounded by trees and pulled over to a corner furthest from the entrance. Pulling up under some overhanging trees Geoff cut the engine and turned off the lights. At first it seemed to be pitch black but as my eyes became accustomed to the dark there was some light, certainly enough for what we were going to do.
“OK Geoff,” I grinned?
“Mmmmm perfect,” he artemisbet güvenilirmi replied turning to almost face me and sliding his arm along the back of my seat. “I have waited so long Jayney.”
“For what,” I smiled turning my face towards him?
He put one hand on my shoulder and the other on my cheek and we kissed. It was deep, long, passionate and demanding. It was as though we had been building up to this all evening as, of course we had. Breaking the kiss briefly, he muttered.
“This,” as he renewed the kiss with even more passion and with no hesitation slid his hand down from my face and onto my left breast that he squeezed perfectly. After so long with only my hands touching me sexually the sensations were intense and wonderful. I grunted, my entire body and legs stiffened and I groaned with pleasure.
“Oh god,” I moaned as his tongue probed deeper into my mouth and his finger and thumb pinched my nipple welcomingly firmly so that it hurt a little.
Reacquainting ourselves with each other after probably the eighteen or so months since we had last kissed and fondled at a hotel where we both had to share rooms due to a football match so sex was not possible, the kiss went on and on. It was a good kiss, without doubt, I thought, as good as most I had enjoyed with a new lover. Whilst there were lots of lip squirming, use of tongues, sucking and nibbling it was not rushed and he had the patience and time to undo a couple of buttons on my white, almost see-through Egyptian, cotton blouse and slip his hand inside to cup my breasts.
“Ok Jayney?” he asked slipping his hand into the cup of my bra to hold the bare flesh for the first time.
“No,” I said in a mock sharp tone.
“What sorry? What have I done?” he asked sounding suitably contrite.
“Screwing my bloody jacket up,” I smiled sitting up, removing the pin-stripe suit jacket and handing it to him. “Hang it up in the back please.”
We resumed the kissing and this time he undid the rest of the buttons on my blouse and eased both of my breasts from my bra.
“You sure we’ll be ok here?” I asked half hoping he’d chicken out and half wishing that he would fuck me.
“If any car comes we’ll see their lights,” he said confidently and thus reassuring me so that I let him undo my bra.
“Take it off Janey.”
“No what if I have to get dressed quickly?”
“Just do the blouse up or put the jacket back on.”
I wanted him to see and feel my breasts. In fact, I wanted him see all of me, particularly in the dim light where the unfortunate, fifty-year-old places were hidden so I sat up straight and fumbled it off but kept the blouse on. Slipping the bra into my big bag I put my arms round his neck and we resumed the intense kissing but this time with the added attraction of my breasts being bare.
Inevitably now, I guess, the attention of his hands, eyes and mouth attention were more directed towards my chest than my face and I revelled in him sucking licking, kissing and nibbling my boobs and nipples. After being starved of another’s attention for so long those particularly sensitive parts of my body started to arouse me to a level that surprised me as I felt as though I might cum. Not only did I feel embarrassed but also somewhat mortified so, I worked hard to resist it. I just about managed to do that by talking about the previous time we had ‘snogged.’ That slowed things down a little which was good in one way but not in another for as we chatted so he put his hand on my bare leg, just above my knee. Then, as we kissed again his hand moved slowly upwards. Of course, I should have stopped him as that was the reasonable thing to do. But when enormously frustrated from months without any sexually physical contact with another man, reason ceases to exist. I had changed from being a fairly respectable, just about, married woman, albeit separated from my husband into a total, immoral slut up for almost anything of a sexual nature. I had fallen completely under Geoff’s control and I knew as his hand reached the fleshy upper part of my thigh that I was his so to with as he wanted. So, I opened my legs and groaned with anticipation of the pleasures that I knew shortly would be mine. And after his hand covered the short distance from my fleshy upper thigh to my panty covered pussy and rubbed me there, I got those pleasures.
“Oh god Geoff,” I groaned as my head rolled from side to side on the headrest.
“Good baby?” he asked.
“Oh yes, yes, fantastic,” I gasped gripping the leather of the seat and almost breaking my fashionably, blue painted fingernails.
“Let me look Jayne,” Geoff whispered using his left hand to push my skirt up.
That, of course got stuck under my legs causing him to say.
“Lift up Jayne.”
In my new slut mood, I would have done anything for him so it was with an eagerness to make myself more available that I managed to lift my bum and legs off the seat as he rolled the suit skirt upwards exposing my thighs and black knickers.
“Oh yes Jayney, you look fantastic,” he went on running his fingertips along the outline of my lips through the material and right onto my clit.
“Oh fuck yes,” I moaned my body going rigid with sexual delight as he went further and slid his fingers inside and right onto my wetness.