Antonia’s Story Ch. 01

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This story is based on the transcript of a diary dictated by my friend “Antonia” and sent to me after she returned recently from a long summer holiday in the Mediterranean. Antonia asked that edit and publish her story. After hearing it, I could only think of one place where its “release into the wild” would be appreciated and approved of. So, Literotica, here it is.


Hi. My name is Antonia and I am telling you my story while I lie back in a huge bath of warm water and bubbles as I sip a lovely white wine. I may have already had a few glasses, so if I get a few things muddled or let slip some details I shouldn’t, I know you’ll understand and make the necessary accommodations.

I’ll start with a few details about me. I’m fifty-one years old – yes a “mature woman” who should not be indulging in the type of thing I’m about to relate, and I’m recently divorced. It was really the approaching finalization of my divorce in May this year that lead to the adventures I’m about to relate, so a few more details are in order, I guess.

I’d married Ted soon after we both finished college. He was tall and ruggedly handsome and I guess I fitted the stereotype of the athletic barbie doll. I had been a competitive swimmer and was obsessed with my fitness and weight. I remained pretty active and took regular exercise right through our marriage, something that certainly helped me to keep my figure and to ward off the worst effects of childbirth, time and gravity. We raised three children – two girls and a boy – all of whom, despite the usual teenage catastrophes, have gone on to leave home, partner up and start building careers and families. Ted went to fat within ten years of marriage but was an excellent provider. He made lots of money in real estate and put a lot of it into investment properties and a collection of classic cars he kept in a massive basement garage under our home.

He seemed quite settled until a few years ago he started to become involved in an evangelical church group with some of his colleagues at the commercial real estate office where he worked. This was out of character at the time as we had both always been “free thinkers” in the sense that we paid little heed to religion and raised our kids to be skeptical about it. Ted said that he saw it more as a “networking opportunity” and didn’t ever suggest that I should get involved. Over the first year of his involvement, he lost interest in sex (at least with me) but I put this down mostly to age and, perhaps, a bit of Christian puritanism seeping in around the edges. I was certainly still interested in sex and had had a few approaches from men, some of them far younger than me, but I held off, believing that I too was “getting too old for that shit”. But I must admit that I was both flattered and sorely tempted.

During that time, Ted became increasingly distant and spent more and more time doing “outreach” with the church. I tried to raise my concerns with him but he always put me off and even tried to turn the problem back onto me.

When one of his colleagues’ wives, I’ll call her Molly, visited me for a “woman to woman” chat last year, the bombshell finally hit me. It turns out that the “outreach” and “evangelising” that Ted and his fellow church grandees were involved in was directed solely at young girls from poorer neighbourhoods, mostly single mothers. The church members, all middle-aged men, would offer these girls money and housing and, in return, they got unfettered access to a harem of young, mostly black, sex slaves. I was, of course, initially shocked when the evidence was put in front of me. That shock quickly turned to anger, not just for myself but also for the young women who were being manipulated and abused. Any remaining love or loyalty I had for Ted evaporated and I undertook to extract revenge.

It turned out that some of Ted’s fellow abusers were highly placed in government and had the power to thwart any attempt to expose them through the political and legal systems. Over six weeks, Molly and I and two of the other wives, came up with a plan. We quietly gathered video evidence, including interviews with some of the girls involved. We had the tape professionally edited as a documentary expose, naming names. We sent anonymous copies to all the men involved.

The four of us began divorce proceedings on the same day, using the same firm of out of town women lawyers we had carefully vetted for links to the church members. I’d spent twenty years managing the office of a large and successful legal firm in town, so I had a pretty good idea about strategy. I know I shouldn’t be proud of the fact that we virtually blackmailed our husbands into very generous settlements, but I will be damned if we were going to let them off without pain. We also achieved generous settlements for the girls and their children and the existence of the video ensured they were put out of reach of these predators. casino siteleri I would be set for life with the settlement and I’d get the house and most of Ted’s car collection – worth over a million. There’s more to come on that front, but now’s not the time. And really, that episode is only the backdrop to the story I want to tell here.

During the year of divorce proceedings I was totally focused and probably quite manic. I thought of nothing else and certainly alienated quite a few long time friends who, because of the nature of Ted’s transgressions and our secret plan for revenge, I had kept in the dark about the seedier aspects of the whole episode. People, especially our kids, didn’t understand my obsession or hatred of Ted and I’m sure I drove many good people out of my life. The only person who stuck with me was my friend Sophia who had been through two divorces herself.

Sophie was a few years younger than me and was a big, beautiful, curvy woman of Italian heritage. And by “curvy” I don’t mean fat. She was a classic Mediterranean beauty, around 5’9” with large breasts and wide hips, long dark hair and classic looks. Sophie was a one of a kind. Highly intelligent – she had degrees in ancient history and psychology, had published several books and spoke three foreign languages like a native – Sophie was a chameleon in her public life. She could take on any character, from bimbo to princess, and wrap people, especially men, around her little finger. In her own words, she “could do classy or brassy” and she was great fun to spend time with, often delivering devastating insights with a smile or a wink.

She really helped keep me grounded during the winter of the divorce and, as spring broke, I spent more and more time at her place just chatting and chilling. She was never judgmental and I felt comfortable revealing the story of Ted and his “church” to her on the condition of total confidentiality. She took it all in her stride and supported me in my efforts to inflict maximum damage on those involved. She even arranged counselling services for the girls.

As the proceedings worked their way to their inevitable conclusion, Sophie took me under her wing and distracted me from the detail. Warmer days meant that we started to spend more time beside her pool in her extensive and private garden. She gradually got me thinking about life after divorce.

On one particularly warm day in April, just after lunch and a few wines, Sophie suggested we have a swim and do a bit of tanning on her terrace. I didn’t have a swimsuit with me but I knew that Sophie would swim nude so I agreed. We grabbed some towels and the remainder of the wine and stripped by the pool. I dived straight into the cold water and the shock brought me immediately spluttering and floundering to the surface. Sophie just laughed. I started swimming vigorously to warm up but after a few laps I realized that I wasn’t as fit as I thought I was so got out of the pool and started to dry off. By that time Sophie had stretched out on a sun lounge and was soaking up some sun. She watched as I toweled myself dry and smiled.

“You are looking pretty good for an old lady, Ant”. she said. “But my god you need some color and and a trim!” I looked down at my bush and legs and laughed. I was going gray down there and my pubes were a messy thatch. My normally pale skin looked pure white in the sun, especially compared to Sophie’s olive complexion.

“Shit. You say the nicest things, Soph.” I responded. “You’re looking pretty hot yourself, you know.” Sophie, despite her womanly curves, was well toned and she had obviously had her pubes waxed quite recently. She was entirely smooth down there and I couldn’t help noticing her large dark nipples were almost as erect as mine had become in the cold water.

I should mention that Sophie and I had often flirted this way, commenting appreciatively on each other’s ass or tits and even going as far as an occasional playful kiss or touch. Sophie was an unabashed bisexual – or as she preferred to say, an omni-sexual. I had never indulged, but had long ago stopped defining myself by my general preference for hetero sex. In the past I had indulged in lesbian and bi- fantasies and I enjoyed them, often masturbating to mental images of women making out or thoughts of orgiastic sex with multiple partners of both genders. But by that April I hadn’t any sex, or even any real desire for sex, for nearly two years but I realized that this little bit of flirting with my naked friend was making me just a little horny.

I lay on the lounger next to Sophie’s and let the sun warm my skin. We chatted and drank the rest of the wine. As I warmed up, I could feel the tensions of the past year start to ebb away. I noticed that my legs had unconsciously spread apart and my clit and pussy lips were responding favorably to the rays of sun. Sophie must have caught the vibe.

“How long since you had slot oyna a good fuck, girl?” she said in her typically direct way.

“A good one?” I responded. “That would be measured in years, I’m afraid”

“Jesus fucking Christ! I’d be dead if I went that long. I assume you have a decent dildo, kid, or that magic hole is gonna heal up.”

I snorted and admitted that I hadn’t had much interest for quite a while and opportunities for a woman of my age weren’t exactly throwing themselves at me.

“Bullshit. You need to get over the age thing, woman. You are an amazing hottie and could have any man, or woman, you wanted if you work on your attitude.” Sophie said, sounding genuinely pissed off at me. “Look at those tits! That ass! Those legs! You’ve got a complete package there, sweetie, and I’d eat you out and finger fuck you now if I thought it was what you needed. Jesus!”

I’m sure I was blushing when I replied “Thanks Sophie. I love you too but I’m not you. I’m still feeling deflated by this divorce fiasco and I’m not sure I’ll ever climb back on that particular horse. I loved sex when I was younger, and even for the first half of my marriage to Ted, but that seems like another life – something that happened to another person a long time ago. When I’m not with you I feel like an old maid who should be doing needlepoint for her grandkids and playing bingo on friday nights.”

Sophie sat up, turned to me and took my hands in hers. “You need an intervention, my sweet.” she said seriously. “This is REALLY bad! You have years of great fucking ahead of you and I’m gonna make you my project for the next year.”

Tears came to my eyes and I sat up and hugged her. Something inside me told me that she was right but I doubted I had the strength to see it through alone. Our naked breasts touched and I felt Sophie gently kiss my eyelids. I felt her nipples harden again and I think mine did the same. I probably could have let her seduce me right there by the pool but she held back, intuitively knowing that I needed time and a slow build-up if I was ever to get back to being a truly sexual woman.

Over the next few weeks the weather warmed further and Sophie had her pool boy (who she was, of course, fucking) turn on the solar water heater so the pool became deliciously swimmable. We met frequently and I worked on my tan and resumed my regular exercise regime. I relaxed and started to think more about what it would mean to be Sophie’s “project”. She didn’t reveal much but said she needed to travel to Greece to finalize some research she was doing for her latest book and that I would be coming with her. I had trimmed my thatch very short and was developing a great all over tan. With Sophie’s constant encouragement I was even starting to appreciate my own body again.

We got close to sex several times during that time. Rubbing lotion or oil into each other’s nude bodies was heaven but, despite Sophie’s genuine offers of “a little pussy play”, we remained chaste, knowing that “it” would happen eventually and in its own time. Sophie kept me horny with stories about her sex life, mainly with the pool boy (who was actually 27) and her long-time lover and masseuse, Kelly. She spared no detail in her descriptions of vigorous fucking or languid sessions of oral sex. She even showed me the strapon dildo that she used with both her regular partners. Sophie also had frequent one-night stands or “trysts” with strangers or acquaintances and I never ceased to be amazed at the situations she could turn into a wild sexual encounter.

At night, alone in my huge and empty house, I had started fantasizing again, very much inspired by Sophie’s stories and her naked presence in my life. I started browsing porn sites on the net and found that I had to masturbate to orgasm several times after a session watching strangers fuck and go down on each other. I guess my own bisexuality was confirmed, at least to me, as I browsed all manner of porn.

I was at Sophie’s one morning in late May, expecting another day by the pool, when she got a call from her publisher. Something had come up and she needed to go into the office for a meeting. I was gathering my stuff to leave but she insisted I stay and use the pool. She’d only be a couple of hours max and we we’d have the whole afternoon together. I took up the offer, grabbed a drink and my book and headed out the back while she dressed and left.

The weather had turned hot so I alternated between tanning and swimming for about an hour. I was laying back reading my novel when the story turned decidedly sexy and I started to feel the warmth of the sun on my pussy. I lazily stroked myself while letting the story carry me away. My imagination soon took over and I put the book down, closed my eyes, opened my thighs and started to masturbate properly. I kept at it, slipping two fingers into my wet cunt and pumping hard while rubbing my clit with the other hand. I canlı casino siteleri pushed down hard as I felt myself about to come. And what an orgasm it was. Wave after wave of pulsating pleasure. I felt as if I was flying. I don’t think I’d ever squirted before but I could feel warm wetness covering my hands and thighs and the towel under my pussy was saturated. I must have lay there with eyes closed and panting for several minutes, gently rubbing my juices into my lubricated, still pulsing pussy. As I came back to earth I knew I was still very aroused and my gentle rubbing became harder. Within minutes I was coming again, two fingers thrust deeply while I hammered my clit. The orgasm was gentler this time but I was still dripping and squirting onto my hands. When I did eventually open my eyes I was surprised to see Sophie standing and smiling before my still open legs.

“That looked nice. Well done you!” she said while removing her business shirt and skirt. “Did I miss something or was that entirely your own work?”

I stammered and closed my legs. Instinct told me I should be at least a little embarrassed, but the nature of our friendship meant I wasn’t.

“Mmmm.” I managed a smile and I may have licked my wet hand. I know that I consciously spread my legs again. It was time.

Sophie, now naked, knelt beside me, took my hand and appreciatively licked what remained of my juices. With her other hand she caressed my right breast, taking the nipple between two fingers and tweaking it gently. I groaned slightly and closed my eyes, enjoying a mild aftershock from my orgasms.

“It’s good to see you enjoying yourself”. Whispered Sophie as she leaned over and lightly kissed me on the lips while her hand left my nipple and softly wandered down my belly.

“I’m in heaven.” I whispered and kissed her back while reaching out for her heavy breasts. I caressed her as our tongues entwined and her fingers found my soaking snatch. She pressed gently on my labia and I moaned and arched my pelvis towards her touch.

We stayed like that, pressed together and gently fondling each other for at least ten minutes. Sophie rose and straddled my open legs, pressing her hairless mound into mine. I sat up and moved my mouth to her large breasts, giving each nipple my attention in turn while my arms encircled her, pulling our bodies even closer together.

Suddenly, I needed to taste her and make her come. All my love for Sophie came pouring out as I disengaged from her magnificent body and motioned for her to lie back. She complied knowingly and spread her legs. She was very wet and arched her back and moaned the moment my lips touched her sweet vulva. I was gentle but persistent, using my tongue, lips and fingers to stimulate her clit and outer labia then sucking her large inner lips into my mouth. Her wet cunt opened to my touch and my fingers slipped inside, finding the firm slippery flesh just inside the front of her vagina. I stroked her there while maintaining rhythmic pressure on the base of her clit with my tongue. I could feel her orgasm building with each stroke of my hand and even thought I would come in sympathy I was so turned on. She ground her pussy onto my hand and face and I felt the first contraction of her release. She moaned loudly and bore down, releasing wave after wave of salty warm pussy juice onto my face and hand. I lapped it up and continued rubbing and licking in time with her pulses. It seemed to take ages for Sophie to come down. I was still licking wetness from her thighs when she raised herself onto her elbows and said. “Sweetheart, for a virgin you sure do know how to eat pussy!”.

I smiled coyly and replied “I have one of my own, you know, so I have some idea what they like.” We giggled and embraced, kissing deeply and rolling ourselves onto our sides.

For the rest of that day we swam, relaxed and cuddled on the terrace. I actually had another explosive orgasm when Sophie cornered me in the pool and took me roughly me with her hand while locking her mouth onto mine. We ate dinner together nude curled up on her couch and I stayed the night. We made love until the early hours in her huge bed as well as in the shower, the jacuzzi and on the floor. Never in my life had I experienced so many orgasms or so much raw passion in such a short period of time. We were both exhausted and slept late into the morning the following day.

It was actually three full days before I went back to my place where I collapsed onto my own bed, the images and sensations of the past few days swirling in my head. Sophie’s scent, her taste, her sensuality and her womanly body had imprinted themselves onto my psyche and I felt powerful but strangely at peace. I called her the following day and she said she was missing me already and that I should pack some things and come back for a few more days. She said we had some planning to do, which intrigued me – I had completely forgotten about her trip to Greece. I threw some toiletries and cosmetics into a bag, grabbed a couple of novels and drove back as quickly as I could.

The next phase of my adventure with Sophie was about begin.

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