Helen Gaines was everyone's candidate for being dowdy. That is, everyone's including both Helen herself and James, her mate. But if the truth were told, James, a prominent preacher, chose Helen because he thought she would be a good helper for his dedication to his religion.
There were few, if any, romantic, sexual or lustful thoughts involved for him. Helen herself was aware of this and had come to accept it.
She was, at 38, one of those special women who only come physically into their own during their blossoming 30's.
There were, of course, special things about Helen; but strangely they were not things that she noticed. She had really large and marvelously formed tits. Her size 38c breasts were knockouts but pretty much unsung. Her ass too was well formed, not flat at all, round and plump, fairly inviting spanking or even anal sex. Helen was a fox in dowdy clothes, simply awaiting discovery.
There were some quirks too about Helen. She had nipples that almost had a mind of their own. She was prone to wear white blouses and a-line skirts, very conservative in their length but her nipples were frequently stiff and sensitive, showing, it seems, some kind of special nature in Helen that was not being let out.
In her own mind, Helen thought of herself as 'slouching' toward middle age. She loved the word, a word that Yeats, her favorite used to describe the beast going to Jerusalem to be born. But she hated the mental picture that it gave her. For Helen felt unwanted, and certainly unfulfilled. Helen felt dowdy and was not encouraged to feel differently by James.
Their once every few weeks or so, mating, was always in the dark, and James made it clear that it was a necessity and not at all a pleasure, so that Helen never was able to derive pleasure from it either.
Helen's main area of indulgence for herself was in her panties. They were her contradiction, where she revealed her real self, instead of the woman who was the dowdy older lady. She loved pretty panties, and indulged herself with them. Not that James ever noticed, for he didn't. But even the granny, full to the waist styles, that she wore were pretty colored and abounded in lace at leg holes and the waist.
She was certainly a panty girl. Just the thought made her giggle. Her collection was fairly extensive. She got to decide daily if it would be bikinis, and if so what color. Or would it be the 'grannies' and also what color.
The thought of them being called 'granny' panties was a kind of a thing for her. She usually wore them, when she was feeling down on herself or out of sorts.
She went, at such times, for bright colors to express a mood. It was all a kind of a special thing for her.
She had even, James had no idea, bought a few pairs of thongs. She liked the feel of the string of the thong between the cheeks of her ass. But she had no idea how her panties, the entire collection, served to frame her almost perfect ass. It was still kept a secret from the world.
She had never really gotten around to dealing with her sexuality. Her up bringing and her time spent as 'spouse' to James had certainly discouraged any such development.
She was well respected, though there were a few people, yes both men and women, who were the kind of people who could see that what Helen was hiding was significant.
There were also a few teen aged guys in the congregation who were pretty much 'in lust' with Helen. They never tired of fantasies about getting the preacher's wife alone, stripping her and getting a cock in her mouth. Of course the fantasy continued that it was the preacher's wife's 'willing' mouth but that was another story for them.
These were certainly her fans, who fantasized about what kind of tantalizing soft bounty Helen hid beneath her a-line skirts and plain dresses ... But Helen, at that time, was blissfully unaware. That was going to change though.
There were really two agents of change that entered her life at about that time. One such agent, she became gradually aware of; the other she had no idea about.
The agent of change about which, about whom, she had no real idea was a member of her older teen Sunday School class, Andy. He was not one of those who sniggered and talked about Helen's tits and ass. He rather let those guys alone. He was much more serious about his lust for Helen. He had, at an earlier age, undertaken such a campaign against his mother, and he'd been successful.
Once he'd achieved his conquest with his mother, he automatically began to look around for another conquest. He considered his mother's friends, and certainly didn't write them off of his agenda. But then the thought of Helen entered his mind, and he was entranced by the idea.
He could almost see her kneeling totally naked in some out of the way setting for him, and maybe a few friends, willing to do whatever he wanted, they wanted her to do. It was a heady thought.
Andy especially fantasized about Helen, about stripping Helen, about maybe forcing Helen, about spanking Helen, during those times when he had his cock in his mother's captive mouth.
"The best of both worlds," he thought.
The other agent of change came into Helen's life rather casually. She'd been out with a few 'girl friends' at lunch, a thing she did only periodically. During the lunch the girls had giggled about chat rooms.
Up to that point, Helen could use her computer but was pretty much in the dark about the ins and outs of it. Sure, she'd heard about 'chat rooms' but didn't know where they were, what exactly they were, or how to find them.
But the girls, still giggling, mentioned some of the chat rooms where you could go, give yourself a provocative 'nickname' and say whatever you wanted.
Helen was intrigued. She made a mental note about the chat room names that were mentioned.
Then the conversation continued a bit. Each of the girls at the table were going to be given a 'nickname' for the chat rooms. They were almost hysterical with their giggling at that point.
Helen was initially shocked by the nickname that they gave her: "Jugs."
They said that, and she immediately almost lost the iced tea in her mouth. She had to cover her mouth with her napkin to keep from spitting it out.
Helen protested but they wouldn't hear of it. They agreed that she had the loveliest breasts imaginable. She still protested.
It was Laura, her good friend, who patted Helen's hand and said:
"Come on, love; don't deny that every single man in this place would love to see you walk through the room naked or with only a pair of panties on."
The giggling surged again.
Helen sputtered: "But, but, Laura, I'm..."
But Laura cut her off:
"Don't give me that, Helen, you're a lovely, big breasted woman who is wasting away with that no account James. You should give yourself a break and at least parade your fantasies in a chat room."
The others agreed, saying how exciting it was being able to say what you wanted.
Helen only smiled and decided that she'd have to contact Laura alone to see what this was all about.
Helen drove Laura home, after their lunch. Laura was certainly in a good mood after lunch with the girls, and the chance to be both naughty and silly. When they got to Laura's, she invited Helen in for a cup of tea.
When they were seated over tea, Helen asked Laura to explain the chat room idea to her. Laura went into detail about chat rooms and where to find them. She talked to Helen about being able to chat with someone without having to face them, unless it was a chat with a camera.
Helen then wanted to know about that idea too. Helen realized that the more that she heard about this possibility, the more she liked it. She lived a great deal of her life with no visible response from James, and this at least sounded like a relatively harmless way to vent herself.
She said as much to Laura, and Laura responded vehemently:
"Helen, you are a candidate for sainthood in my book, living with James and being ignored by him the way that you are. How do you do it, love? I mean, he hardly knows that you exist, and here you are one of the most gorgeous women that I know."
"Laura," Helen said in protest, "You're going to make me blush."
"Well, it's true, Helen it really is," Laura continued, "Tell me, I mean I am interested, how do you do it? How do you maintain your balance with so little attention from your husband. Is he that way sexually?"
Helen did blush then but Laura was such a good friend, and Helen really did need someone to talk to; Laura was an excellent candidate.
"Yes," Helen admitted, "I'm afraid that he's the same way in the sex department. Our encounters are few and far between and he doesn't bother about what's good for me very much."
"Then what do you do?" Laura demanded again. "I mean, Helen, this can't be very healthy for you."
"No, I know," Helen admitted. "I haven't really managed to find very many kinds of resources, and I have to admit that the chat room idea sounds like an ideal treat. I might just try it. But there are a few things that I do to keep myself chipper and on an even keel."
"Like what?" Laura wanted to know.
"Are you serious, Laura," Helen asked then, "Do you really want to know?"
"Yes, I do because I'm so worried about you," Laura continued then.
Helen blushed again, red to her ears.
"Oh," Laura said grinning, "This is going to be good."
Helen bucked up her courage and said to Laura:
"It's my underwear."
"Your what?" Laura asked quickly.
"My underwear," Helen repeated.
.... There is more of this story ...