Chapter 1

This is not fiction! It is a narrative of a relationship that commenced some thirty years ago. It is a true story! Well, OK, maybe the sexual aspect and dialogue is enhanced, but only slightly and not every time. Sometimes the sex was as wild as anything you've read about on this and other similar sites. Sometimes in was fairly vanilla, but the build up was anything but. The old analogy of the journey being better than the destination is a good one. The point is that the facts of the story are true. The passage time has corrupted the chronology, but not my memories of a remarkable woman and what we did together.

I was then a young thirty something Engineer, working my rights of passage through my company's Engineering Department. I had been married about seven years with two young sons, I suppose this could be a classic Seven Year Itch tale. My wife had gone into motherhood mode, her two boys were the apple of her eye (as well as mine). I was feeling, well, left out.

My partner on this journey; I'll call her Angela — actually it was her middle name, she said it was a misnomer as she did not consider herself an angel — was a couple of years older than I, no oil painting, but a reasonably good looking woman. The title of this piece is an acronym of her initials at the time and my pet name for her. She was about five feet four inches about 36 — 28 — 38 with the most gorgeous ass, legs and ankles — oh her ankles were to die for, especially when she wore heels. She was married with two children, but her husband was apparently "playing away" with who she thought was one of her best friends. Child bearing had taken its toll on her boobs, apparently she was a 36C+ (photos I've seen support this), but when I got to know her she was more 36B with beautiful nipples like old fashion organ stops.

Jay had been born into money, her family had a major leather business. This may have accounted for her fetish for the material, which we will come to later. However, her father had settled her share on her when she married and hubby blew the lot. So she had to get of her (gorgeous) ass and earn a living. She joined the company on the clerical side, handling the engineering documentation.

Now I have always been a sucker (there may be a pun in there somewhere) for a woman who dresses well. Where most of the women at work dressed tidily, Jay had a wow factor in the clothes she wore to work and it pleased her when I told her so. So it was inevitable that I would get to know her, especially, as it turned out she only lived a mile from me. There was an immediate mutual attraction and we were soon outrageously flirting with one another. Now, in those days, before the concept of sexual harassment, banter between the sexes in an office like ours; providing it did not go too far, came with the territory and the ladies gave as good as they took. However, between Jay and I there was an edge to it that we both acknowledged and enjoyed.

Part of the office sub-culture was a porn club. A couple of back-street shops near the factory had under-the-counter porn libraries. One could buy a novel or magazine and trade them in for a new one at half price. Personally, I preferred the written word and still do over illustrated material and moving images. As part of my work, I travelled Europe extensively and saw a lot of porn. I suppose that dulled the attraction of being a spectator while someone else was having their oats. I much preferred to be in the action.

Now Jay, introduced to it by the senior clerk in her section turned out to be an avid porn fanatic. Although she enjoyed the novels, she preferred the illustrated magazines. She conceded to me later, having read a book I had passed on to her, that far from being sophisticated when it came to sex, she was naive. The porn library became part of her adult education. She had no idea as to the porn vocabulary. Sure, she had heard the word "fuck" — she worked in a factory — but to her it had been merely an expletive said in frustration or temper.

After a couple of dates when we went to a discrete pub for drinks, we started to talk seriously about going further and consummating our relationship. I have to admit that I was a reluctant party, I loved my wife (and still do) and had until then been faithful to her, whereas Jay had previously had a couple of flings. I back-peddled every time she wanted to arrange a tryst.

As my career progressed, I started working on installations away from home. I had been to Scandinavia and mainland Europe, then I was sent to a town on the outskirts of London. I thought about taking her with me, but the strange work patterns we had to adhere to meant that we would not have much time together. I again chickened out.

I duly went to the site and on the first afternoon; a Friday because we had to work the weekend when the factory didn't, and was appraised of the problem I was there to address. The two guys I was working with invited me to go into London for an evening out and I accepted. On checking in to the hotel that evening, I was given a note that had been left for me.

I was dumbfounded, I had not expected this. Jay had somehow found out at which hotel I was staying and followed me down. I went to join my colleagues in the bar — an after work pint is a ritual in the field engineering fraternity — and made my excuses for not accompanying them into London.

After performing my ablutions, I returned to the bar resplendent in collar and tie, slacks and a leather jacket. I got myself a scotch and ice and sat at the bar watching the entrance. At about five past seven, Jay walked through the door. She looked magnificent! Every inch a lady! She wore a black silk dress with a flared skirt and a vee neckline that exhibited just a hint of cleavage. Her legs were swathed in tan hose and on her feet, black patent court shoes with a four-inch heel. Over one arm was a fur coat, on her other a handbag to match her shoes.

As she walked smiling — no, it was self satisfied, even smug grinning — toward me, she knew that she had me hooked and there would be no admonishment for following me. We greeted each other with a brief kiss, just long enough for her tongue to dart into my mouth with a promise of delights to come. I got her a G and T — "it goes straight to my groin" — and we sat and chatted about how she had got there. It turned out our department secretary — a friend of hers — had told her where I was.

We went to a local restaurant for a meal and then back to the hotel. After a couple of further drinks in the bar we were both impatient to be alone together. We agreed we would use her room and I said I would join her after mussing up my own bed in case either or both of my colleagues happened to call by the following morning.

I stood outside her door for a moment taking a deep breath, this would be the first time I would break my marriage vows, a step not to be taken lightly. I knocked. The door opened and she stood there in her dress with another drink — whiskey this time — in her hand and offered me one. She had brought scotch because she knew I was not partial to gin. We sat together on the end of her bed silently sipping the amber liquid, each with our thoughts. Mine were that I had been presented with a fait accompli and what the hell, go for it!

I stood up, took her hand and drew her up also. I placed our glasses on the desk that generic hotel rooms always have. She started to undo the buttons that went down the front of her dress, I removed my shirt and slacks and as she was about to slip the dress from her shoulders, I stopped her. "I want to finish for you" I said. She smiled in acquiescence.

I went behind her and took the dress in my hands and kissed her neck. As I drew it down her arms, she shuddered as I kissed the bare flesh at the top of her spine. I came back in front of her and admired her. She was wearing a black bra and panty set and panty hose. I took her in my arms and we kissed, a long kiss in which our tongues fought a duel and our saliva passed back and forth. Our breathing became ragged and heavy as our passion built. I unhooked her bra and broke the kiss. Our eyes locked as I drew it of her shoulders. She licked her lips to retain the moisture generated by our kissing.