That day felt like it would never end. In fact, the whole week had dragged by. Unfortunately that left more time for more self-reflection. I sat staring at my pen in my hand at the office realizing that my dissatisfaction with my job and my life had reached an all time high.
I turned 30 that week. My birthday came and went with little fuss. My mum rang in the morning and I had a few emails from friends. Truth is, I'd started cutting off ties with my close friends as they got married. It wasn't really a deliberate choice; we just seemed to be heading in very different directions. Being single bothered me more than it should have because I had always thought that I would be the first of my school friends to marry. I was always popular at school, with boys constantly fighting for my attention.
It was time for a change. I left work a little early. I just couldn't find the enthusiasm to start something new at 4.45pm. On the bus home, my gaze floated over the other passengers, wondering who else felt frustrated with their life.
I dawdled, in no rush to get home after I got off the bus. The short walk from the bus stop to my house was one that I'd walked over a thousand times before, without really seeing it. Tonight as I walked home, I noticed the odd uniformity of the houses, with little well kept gardens providing privacy to the lives inside the houses. It might be a cliché but I had never stopped to smell the roses.
I arrived home to my own well kept little garden. It was low maintenance like the rest of my life outside of work, but was attractive enough. Checking the mail, only to find the electricity bill, I sighed. I wondered if the whole world was like this, little microcosms of uniformity, people's lives following the expected pattern. That night I decided I would go traveling. I had to know if it was different elsewhere. Was there more to life than this?
I spent hours on the internet that night. I sat drinking coffee until 2am in the morning trying to decide where I would go. In fact I spent hours over the next month researching my travel plans. At only 30, it felt like I was too young for a midlife crisis but suddenly my life felt infused with a passion. Within the month, I had quit my job and was on a plane to London. London felt about as far away from my little predicable life in Perth, Australia and I wanted to see many of the European countries too. It was a difficult but liberating decision.
Two days after setting foot in London I felt like a different person. I was alive with anticipation and enthusiasm for the adventure to come. The climate in London was colder than I had expected. I did some shopping on Oxford Street. Although all I really needed was a warm coat, I couldn't resist several other items. My favourite was a gorgeous white embroidered bra with matching knickers.
That night, back at my hotel, I tried on my new clothes. I always do that — try all the new clothes on, in different combinations with my older stuff. I think it is just about mentally working out what goes with what, and besides, it makes me feel good. The new bra perfectly cupped my breasts, and you could see my nipples through the sheer striped fabric. My new grey bootleg trousers were fantastic too. I am quite tall for a woman at 5"9' and often find it hard to get pants long enough. But these were perfect and I loved how they made my ass look, round and tight, but not too big. I'd already decided what I would wear the next day.
I'd booked myself on a weekend trip to Scotland when I booked my flight to London. I was really looking forward to it and felt excited and nervous at the same time. I went to bed early since I would be picked up at 8am. Sliding into bed, I almost felt suffocated by the tightly tucked in sheets. I hate hotel beds. I squirmed and flanged until the covers were completely messed up, no longer tightly pinned to the bed.
My right hand began to automatically rub first my breast, then it trailed downwards. I say automatically, because it too had become routine. It had been months since I had slept with a man. Masturbating before sleep relaxes me and I always sleep better.
I melted into the bed, feeling my fingers delve into my warm pussy lips. I had become surprisingly wet very suddenly. I was very tense since I hadn't gotten off in the last two days - sightseeing had just left me too tired. I wished that I had been brave enough to bring my vibrator from home on this trip. Lying back feeling the vibrations of my favourite purple vibe pulse through my body would have felt fantastic, but instead my fingers would have to do. Not that that was a bad thing, I liked the way I felt and tasted too.
My right hand fingers pushed inside my pussy, finding a very swollen and aroused g-spot. I rubbed back and forth across it thinking of the very sexy man I had been sitting next to on the plane to London.
I imagined that I had been forward enough to make a move on him, rubbing his penis underneath the fold-down tray. I imagined rubbing his dick and making it strain uncomfortably against his pants. His penis would stand up erect, dislodging the fold-down tray, spilling his beer.
I felt my clit grow bigger with this thought. I wiggled my fingers up and down against my clit as though I was playing a trill on a piano keyboard. I imagined him taking me doggie style in the bathroom cubicle on the plane. His hands would roam over my breasts and squeezing my pert nipples roughly. I would struggle to be quiet as he fucked me harder and harder pushing me closer and closer to orgasm. Suddenly my breathing became very ragged, and I came hard in my hotel room, alone.
The alarm rang, waking me abruptly from my slumber. I felt groggy and still asleep as I dragged myself into the en suite bathroom. I glanced at myself in the mirror. My long dark brown hair was awful, long, dark and unruly — what bad bed hair! It was normally so neatly pinned back for work, looked like a wild animal had escaped from the zoo and taken up residency on my head. The hot water streaming over my naked body felt good as I wakened myself slowly from my deep sleep. I rubbed the complimentary soap bar over the soft skin of my breasts, and noticed how hard my nipples were.
My mind slipped back almost to my dream state and I saw an image of a man's naked, slightly sculptured body. I realized the alarm must have woken me up in the middle of an erotic dream. I let my hand stray to between my legs wishing myself to remember more of my dream. I discovered that I was already slippery wet, but not from the action of the shower. I squeezed my nipples, but it was to no avail. I was too much awake to remember anything else.
Laughing to myself, I wondered if I had been masturbating in my sleep again. An ex-boyfriend once told me that I did that. I didn't believe him at first, but then I would wake up too often with my hands resting on my pussy.
Realizing that the bus would be there in just ten minutes, I hurried myself out of the shower and threw on the clothes that I had chosen the night before. I felt attractive but not overdressed, with added confidence from the new clothes. I sighed as I realized that I wouldn't have time to blowdry my hair. I pulled it instead into a loose bun. I grabbed the overnight bag I had packed the night before, and went down into the foyer to wait for my pickup.
I had barely walked down the stairs when a stunning young man walked through the sliding doors of the hotel. I wished now that I wasn't going on the trip so that I would have the chance to 'accidentally' run into this man. I watched slyly as he went to the concierge to get his room keys. The concierge didn't give him room keys, instead beckoned my way. He quickly turned to walk over to me, catching me looking at him. A wide smile played across his face.
"Hi, you must be Anna. I'm Luke, your tour guide. On behalf of Impulse Tours I'd like to welcome you and let you if there is anything, and I mean ANYTHING I can do to make your trip more enjoyable, then please just ask"
I felt myself begin to blush as he winked at me and took my bag. I thought I also caught him surreptitiously checking me out. I pulled my shoulders back and thrust my breasts out a little as I walked to the bus, deciding that I might as well have some fun.
"We just have one more pick up then we will be on our way," Luke said to me before giving the bus driver directions to the next hotel pickup.
I nodded to him and made my way down the aisle of the bus to an empty seat about a third of the way down the bus. I wanted to say something to him, but just couldn't find any words.
The bus was quite full, but surprisingly most of the other tourists were in their late forties. There was also a cute young couple who seemed totally enthralled in each other. Young love, I thought to myself, remembering with a pang some of the failed relationships I had when I was younger.
The final passenger boarded, and I watched Luke prepare to speak to his captive audience. He was in his early thirties, with long, wild, sun-bleached blond hair. I recognised his accent, another Australian! He was quite tall, lanky but muscular, and looked like he spent all his free time surfing.
Luke briefly outlined the trip ahead. We would be taking the M1 for the early part of the morning, stopping in Skipton for lunch. I had never heard of Skipton before. Then we would pass through the Lake District before stopping in Carlisle for the night.
.... There is more of this story ...