Freedom and the Widow
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Reluctant, Heterosexual, Fiction, BDSM, FemaleDom, Humiliation, Oral Sex, Masturbation, Voyeurism,
Desc: Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A dutiful housewife who has led a very sheltered life, where Mr has ruled the roost, simply because 'that is the way things are' sudddenly finds things awakening within her when he dies. Now independent, she makes a new friend, an independent woman, who shows her just what she wants and needs - males who will obey and do her chores; and other things.
Victoria Anita Cavendish had led a very secure and sheltered life, her husband had kept her on a pedestal and her typically upper-middle-class background had unconsciously allowed her to be controlled by him throughout their married life. This was never a strict control, but merely what was perceived as the natural order of Husband leading doting wife; a Victorian concept which she had accepted without truly realising it. Sex was something which had procured her two children, now grown up and both living abroad; it was rarely something which was enjoyed for its erotic pleasure, she had dutifully laid down for her husband of course, but apart from those fleeting first years of marriage, this was a rare routine and she rarely reached orgasm, except on those occasions when she let her mind wander to a dark alter ego which she was quick to dismiss when her portly husband had finished grunting. It was always her dutiful routine; a nudge in the back and then a little dabble at her vagina with blunt fingers was what passed for foreplay; the probing for five minutes and the grunting, followed by a kiss goodnight. She loved him, but knew nothing of lust and excitement.
Now at 52 he was gone, leaving her with a large detached house and huge insurance pay-out. As soon as she stepped back over the threshold on returning from the funeral with a few close friends and relatives, she felt a change come over her; she didn't know what it was, but as she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, her prim and still shapely form dressed in black, she felt how it was somehow suited to her. A couple of Her close friends who lived in nearby houses, one divorced, and another whose husband attended the family home about as regularly as Halley's comet, were quick to comfort Her and spoke of 'the bridge club' and other activities she could now attend more often. It was then that she caught the smile of the woman who had arranged the flowers; someone known to a friend of a friend, so Victoria had invited her through common courtesy, she had noticed her look of disdain at perpetuating her mundane life. She cut in as she adjusted a bouquet at the table.
"I think a nice holiday in the sun is what you'd need." And she turned and walked to the far end of the table where another bouquet required her attention, and out of ear-shot. The two friends sneered at each-other as Victoria pondered what she'd said; a little warm sun appeared in the back of her mind. She turned to her friends.
"Who is that lady? I know she has a floral business but that's all." The divorced one, Angela, looked down her nose as she peeked over the shoulder at the flower woman, who was also middle-aged, shapely, and had a certain presence about her.
"That is Wanda Summers, she is a very 'independent' lady, acquired house, business, and fortune from various husbands ... some say her floral business is just a cover for something else; she doesn't have to work after all; it can't be that much of a hobby." The 'Business Widow', Martha, concurred.
"Yes, she lives on her own and is often seen fleetingly with male companions, though she never seems to be with the same one for long; not publicly anyhow, I suppose she may have a special one at home, but no-one's ever been introduced." Victoria looked enviously at the 'Independent' woman; she saw how men smartly stepped aside as she went about her arrangements, not out of routine masculine courtesy as they would with a female like her, they somehow seemed in awe of Wanda Summers. Victoria's pussy tingled with a strange awe also.
As soon as Martha and Angela scuttled off to bore another bridge companion, Victoria took her chance to talk with the woman. She was in a convenient corner, out of earshot of most of the guests.
"Err ... hello, Wanda? I'd like to thank you for the beautiful displays; it has made the day so much easier." The brown eyed woman smiled warmly.
"It's really my pleasure, I so love flowers; you must come and see my garden sometime. I suspect you have been feeling it, now you are on your own." Victoria responded almost automatically to the suggestion, surprising herself with her answer.
"Actually, I've been feeling rather optimistic, almost elated, and seeing your independent way has inspired me as much as your flowers." Wanda smiled knowingly and clasped her hand.
"Kept you like a bird in a cage did he? You don't have to wear black and play bridge all day now he's gone you know." She watched intently as Victoria turned her head wistfully and looked at the grey and unexciting people behind her; a life she wished to leave behind her. Victoria turned to face her again and smiled wickedly.
"Oh, I don't mind wearing black, it makes me feel sort of 'sexy', but I think I'd like to see that garden of yours; would tomorrow be too soon?" Wanda was delighted; she knew from the few moments with Victoria that there was a side to her which was bursting to free itself like a caged animal. Her possible penchant for black was a good sign she would have 'independent' traits like hers.
"Tomorrow would be just fine!" She gave Victoria a business card and they arranged a time.
Gradually the house emptied and Victoria slumped in a lounge chair, filling a wine glass to the brim, she gulped down a copious amount and laughed aloud as she kicked off her shoes and left them in the middle of the floor; there was a time a very short while ago, when she would never have dreamed of discarding them so; she would have meekly attended the shoe cupboard and placed them there in an orderly fashion; neither would she have been so liberal and un-ladylike with the wine. She had loved her husband, but found she was more in a state of relief than in mourning. As she downed more wine she caught sight of the reflection of her legs in a full-length mirror which had been placed by Wanda to further emphasise her flower arrangements. Victoria studied her black stocking clad legs and hiked her dress up several inches; yes, her thighs were still in good shape and could do with a little more exposure, she thought. Her mind went first to short dresses and stilettos and then to the outrageous thought of a skimpy bikini on a beach somewhere. She sighed and then giggled; the world was her oyster, and she would be glad to glean some worldly advice from someone she intended to make a friend of, tomorrow.
Victoria wound the window right down and sampled the fresh breeze through her hair as she drove to the address on the card; it was not far off, in an equally well-to-do area, her bridge friends had been right, she had done well for herself. She pulled into the drive of a substantial Italianate detached house which must have had at least six bedrooms. The warm glow of the spring sun radiated from its painted stucco walls as she rang the bell in the formidable oak front door. She was a little taken aback when a man-servant opened the door and bowed before ushering her in. She smiled to herself as he walked her through the hall of the house, past a magnificent staircase, through to huge patio doors which led to a poolside canopy, under which sat Wanda who smiled broadly.
Victoria was offered a seat by the man-servant who bowed again and left. Wanda clicked her fingers and another male attendant appeared; she simply pointed to a decanter on the table which was half empty. The male attendant was back within a minute with a full one, with fresh ice and two glasses, he bowed and left. Wanda smiled in a satisfied way as he went.
"I do so prefer male servants, don't you?" Victoria had never had a male servant, butler or home-help of any description, but something about the way Wanda simply pointed and they obeyed immediately made her tingle a little; she wished she'd had.
"I wouldn't know; I've only ever had a lady come and do the cleaning chores." Wanda noted her mischievous smile as she responded and looked lustily to where he had departed too.
"They are so obedient and hard-working, given the proper training; maybe we could find one for you, now you will have better things to do than be the dutiful house-wife." She smiled knowingly at her new companion, who was showing more and more, the signs which would mean she would be like-minded. Victoria took a deep breath, her nipples hardened and her pussy tingled in earnest; she couldn't hide the fact that something within her found the idea of having an obedient male at her command, very appealing indeed.