Well I guess since you've read my husband's story you know that my name is Lyndia and you know what happened to me at the bowling alley. Bob, that's my husband, didn't tell you everything though. Well, really, how could he? He doesn't know everything.
Both Bob and I were raised in a small town in the Midwest. Bob is real smart, but kinda shy, if you know what I mean. Bob's the smart one that went to college and everything. I only went to high school so I'll just write this the best I can and tell you what happened as best I can.
Bob and I had a couple of classes together in high school, but it was band were I noticed him. He sat straight across from me. I played the clarinet, Bob played the trombone, and I'd catch him looking at me sometimes. He'd always look away embarrassed, but I knew he was interested and I'd act real coy.
My parents are kinda crazy and very religious. I'm an only child and every week the three of us, mom, dad, and me would have to go to church 3 times. Twice on Sunday and once on Wednesday. My mom and dad made a big deal about how evil the world was, particularly sex. That's probably why they only had one child I guess. Oh, they loved me in their own way, but they had a hard time showing it, what with wanting me to know just how evil everything was and how really bad sex was and how "the sins of the body are to be constantly guarded against, for Satan uses sex to steal our souls blah, blah," well you get the picture.
That's probably why I grew up being the way I am. Like Bob told you, I'm pretty good looking. I don't think I'm as beautiful as Bob says, at least I don't feel like that. I'm tall and thin. I am a natural blonde with blue eyes, my folks are both Scandinavian, and my breasts are a "C" cup. Because I'm blonde I blush really easily and get all blotchy looking. At least I look all blotchy to me, and I think my lips are too big and my nose is too small. I'm not the raving beauty that Bob thinks I am. Sometimes when I look in the mirror all I see are my eyes, all big with that "deer in the highlights" look. All innocent and alarmed. But I love Bob for seeing me the way he does.
Any way, I was telling you why I grew up the way I did. As you can probably tell, my folks had a real effect on me. I never had any problem getting asked out on first dates in high school. Boy did my dad hate me dating boys, but mom took my side and said that I was a good girl and that I wouldn't do anything bad. Well, she was right. I was really curious about boys, kissing, and all of that, but whenever a boy would try to kiss me I'd freeze up. My heart would be pounding and oh I really wanted to kiss him and stuff, but I just couldn't get pass all that "the world is evil" crap. So, I had first dates, but not many second dates, and never a third date. And, after a while, I wasn't asked out at all.
The first time anything actually sexual happened to me was, oddly enough, in the middle of the night. I was maybe 16 or so when I woke up, really sudden like, in the middle of the night. I was drenched in sweat, my heart was pounding, and I was gasping out loud. I was having an incredible sex dream. My first one, I think. I was dreaming that a man was taking me by force, I had nothing to say in the matter, he was just having his way with me. When I woke up one of my hands was pulling at my pussy, and I mean pulling, hard. I had all four fingers inside myself and I was pulling upward as hard as I could and slamming my fingers back inside my pussy, hard. Up and in, up and in... My other hand was on my breast and I had my tit in a death grip as I was pulling it away from my chest as if I wanted to rip it off. That was what the man in my dream had been doing. Well, the feelings from my pussy collided with the feelings from my tit and with the vivid image of the dream in my mind I had my first ever orgasm. Oh god I came. I rolled over on my side and buried my face in my pillow so nobody could hear me as the orgasm, or maybe it was orgasms, raked my body.
When they finished, I just laid their panting for a minute. Than I stuck my head under the covers and move my hands off my breast and away from my pussy. I remember the smell. It was the first time I'd ever smelled a fully aroused pussy. I brought my hand up to my face. The hand that had been buried in my pussy just a moment before, and held it to my nose. God it smelled wonderful. It was then that I did a strange thing. I'm kinda embarrassed to even mention it. I licked my own pussy juice off my hand. Yes, I did. There I was, lying in bed all covered in sweat licking and sucking my fingers like there's no tomorrow.
Well, that got me so horny that I masturbated again. I fantasized about the same man taking me. That I had no control and wasn't responsible for anything that happened. I masturbated rough. From then on, whenever I did that I was rough with myself. That's how I imaged the man in my dream would be.
The next morning I had to wash my sheets, they were so wet and they smelled so strongly of pussy. My dad asked me what I was doing and I said, "I had some girl trouble last night." Well he put his hands over his ears and ran away yelling, "I don't want to know!" Well, he probably did that on the inside. On the outside he only sat there and said, "oh."
Bob used to think that I was kinda fragile. Well, I'm not. Most women aren't nearly as fragile as men think we are. I mean, we have babies don't we? I figure that a woman's body can take a lot.
As I mentioned, Bob went away to college and I went to work at the local drug store. I lived with my parents so I still went to church 3 times a week like a good girl. I was never asked out on dates or anything, and the church was just full of old people who thought that the world had gone to the dogs.
The next time I saw Bob was when he came into the drug store the summer between his junior and senior year in college. I was so happy to see someone I knew that I ran up to him to say "hi." Well, I hadn't thought anything of it, it wasn't planned, and I was just so bored and lonely. Of course, Bob had this secret crush on me so when I acted so happy to see him he just plain fell in love with me. We talked for awhile and eventually he got up the nerve to ask me out.
We went out a lot that summer. I had my first third date, if you know what I mean. My first fourth and fifth dates too!! Bob was such a gentleman. The most he ever did, this wasn't until the fourth or fifth date, was to hold my hand.
When Bob went back to school we promised to write each other and we did. When he came home on breaks, we'd go out. I really liked Bob and I missed him when he was away. He's a real sweet guy.
Finally, Bob asked me to marry him. He said that he had a terrific job on the East Coast and he couldn't stand to go without me. I was SO HAPPY!! Of course, I wanted to get married. That's what everybody told me I wanted, and I sure as hell wanted to get away from going to church all the damn time!
Bob was so sweet on our wedding night. He made love to me for hours, caressing me and licking and kissing me, and telling me how beautiful I was. It really made me feel good. Unfortunately, it did not make me feel horny. I'd decided I'd stop playing with myself now that I was getting married. My play had progressed some since I was younger. Now I'd ram my fingers inside myself as hard as I could, sometimes I used things like the handle to my hairbrush. I still like to pull and squeeze my breasts really hard. Bob's soft and tender lovemaking just wasn't getting me there.
I felt incredibly guilty about that. Bob tried so hard and I really wanted to please him. He'd make love to me for hours and I'd get so bored that sometimes, by the time he'd be ready to get inside me, I'd be completely dry. When he did put his cock in me he'd be very gentle and came within just a couple of minutes. I was a virgin of course, well only if you don't count the hairbrush, and I didn't really know what men were like in bed. I just figured that this was it.
A couple of times he asked me to suck his cock. Oh, I really wanted to!! In my fantasy, the mystery man hadn't asked he'd just shoved his cock down my throat and I'd loved it. I wanted Bob to do the same thing, but of course, he couldn't. It just wasn't him. He worshiped me and he'd never force me to do anything.
I was pretty bored after we moved. I didn't have any friends, not that I'd had many at home, and I didn't have my job at the drug store. I tried not to play with myself any more, but just being home alone while Bob worked all those long hours, well I had to do something.
One day I spotted a sign in the bar window of the bowling alley "Help Wanted." I went inside and talked to Tony, the owner. He told me that the job was running the snack bar, it didn't pay much, but if I wanted the job it was mine.
Bob was a little disappointed when I told him about the bowling alley, but he couldn't deny me anything. So I started work. It was really a lot of fun. There were a number of people that came in every day and of course the leagues bowled at night. Nobody knew about my folks or anything, I was just the new girl at the snack bar, so I enjoyed being somebody different from what I was. I tried to be cheerful and make new friends and be interested in everybody. And I was. I even made friends with Eric the biker bartender and Allan the cook. Allan was great. This huge black guy with the mean, kick-ass face, that always had a joke and a laugh to share. I'd make fun of how mean he looked, and I guess because I was just a pretty blonde white girl, he'd make fun of me right back.
.... There is more of this story ...