Chapter 1

Trudy was breathing hard as she opened the front door and went inside, the rain running off her coat and dripping on the floor, making a nice puddle. She quickly took it off and shook it before hanging it on the stand, her hair a mess and her feet very cold. Trudy hated the rain and would gladly move to the desert if Brian suggested it. She went to the kitchen and got the mop, mopping the floor before going up stairs to change.

Once in the bedroom, she stripped off her clothes and threw them on the floor, looking at herself in the mirror before going to the shower. Trudy was very pretty, just like her mother, both having great genes and being the latest in a long line of beautiful Webster women. Though she was now a Smith, which her mother hated, calling it a common and vulgar name. But Trudy didn’t mind, she was not a snob and gave little importance to a name. It was the person behind the title that mattered and when she first married Brian, she was more than happy to take his name.

But as she gazed at herself in the mirror, admiring her body and thanking her ancestors, she had some doubts now, even though they had been married for seven years. She turned and looked at her bum, the sun now shining after the rain and flooding through the window, lighting up her firm cheeks. Trudy had always loved sports and ever since she was ten played either netball or tennis, both of which kept her in excellent condition. Her tits were average size but perfect in shape with beautiful pink nipples that grew to at least an inch when erect. She pinched one as if to prove a point, it instantly hardening.

Her flat tummy and strong thighs a product of years of training and not stuffing her face like so many others did. She was proud of her body, though not obsessed or arrogant about it, and was determined to keep it this good for as long as possible, if only for her own peace of mind. The sun was warm as it bathed her in its glow, her long blond hair and green eyes sparkling even more than usual, if that was possible. Her nipples had gotten hard for some reason, so she squeezed them, trying to remember the last time Brian had touched them, but failing.

As she walked into the bathroom, she realised it was something like three months since she had made love with her husband. The thought depressed her, though in truth, it was at least a year since she had cum with Brian. Their marriage was in trouble and there was no point in denying it, both of them had drifted away from the other and retreated to their own interests, where it was safer. She didn’t think Brian was being unfaithful, but she did think he had fallen out of love with her and would probably in the near future seek out his sexual needs elsewhere.

Trudy enjoyed sex, like most women, but was not promiscuous or demanding and very rarely said no when Brian wanted it. She had only known a few lovers and none of them, including Brian, had made her scream with arousal or pleasure. She had cum many times with Brian, so she wasn’t frigid, she thought, but sex had never been that all important thing that it was for some people. No, for Trudy it was nice, sometimes really nice but never earth shattering.

When she got out of the shower, she was still thinking about Brian and her marriage, wondering if she could save it. She dried herself and looked in the mirror again, her 5ft 6” frame looking just as good as ten minutes ago. It was October and her tan was fading fast, her alabaster complexion returning for the winter. But she didn’t mind, it wasn’t as though any men would be seeing her naked.

Her fingers went to her pussy and felt her lips, softly stroking them through her soft pubic hair. She let out a little moan, the feeling of pleasure taking her a little by surprise. Her fingers carried on, pushing between them and feeling the juices that were now leaking.

‘Oh, my, Trudy, you little slut.’ She giggled to herself, going to the bed and lying down.

She opened her legs and began masturbating, the first time for well over a month. It was nice and she started to fantasize, imagining a masked man suddenly bursting into her room armed with a knife. Her fingers sped up as the man told her he was going to rape her, holding the knife to her face and telling her to cooperate or be scarred for life. A quiet moan escaped Trudy’s lips as she imagined being turned over and fucked from behind, the rapist’s big cock battering into her with no mercy. She loved the idea of being taken like this, it had been her fantasy since she was a teenager and her guilty pleasure, one she discovered after her schoolgirl friend told her about being forced by her own brother. It wasn’t so much that he had forced her, but that once he started she enjoyed it and even orgasmed.

Trudy soon came herself, her fantasy doing its work and giving her some sexual relief. She lay there panting, feeling better, wondering if she should do something bold and adventurous to spice up her life and marriage. It was 1975 and in a few weeks she would be turning thirty, maybe it was time to be a rebel, she thought.

Brian was away for a conference of headmasters, somewhere in London, and wouldn’t be back for another two days, giving her plenty of time to think about things. She played with her nipples as her thoughts went back to her old friend, Jane, wondering what she was doing now and how long she continued to fuck her own brother. It was at least five years since they had last spoken, though not about that, Jane had refused to talk about her brother after initially telling Trudy, saying it was over and there was no point.

Jane never believed that, seeing how Jane changed after and acted differently, as though she was somehow older and more mature. Trudy really wanted to know and asking all the time affected their friendship, causing Jane to pull away and become more introverted. Trudy gave up asking and gravitated to new friends, leaving Jane to herself and brother.

Her nipples were now hard as she continued down memory lane, remembering a party where she got drunk and danced with Jane’s brother, telling him she knew about him and Jane. His name was Peter and when she blurted out what Jane had told her, he pulled her outside and pinned her against the wall, threatening to rape her if she ever said that again. She was only sixteen and he was eighteen, as well as six foot tall and fourteen stone. His threat scared her and she believed him, he was so angry and his eyes were bulging. She left the party and went home, never telling anyone what he said.

It wasn’t for about a year after that party that she was in his company again, at a pub in town. He had come in with some friends and joined the group she was with, all knowing each other from school and the neighborhood. Trudy was an attractive girl and popular, especially with the boys and was always in demand. She had thought about Peter often since that party and had begun to fantasise about him actually raping her, like he did with Jane, making herself cum many times when alone in bed.

Peter kept looking at her, making her feel scared but excited, his eyes full of a wildness and danger. She tried to ignore him but couldn’t, he was deliberately trying to intimidate her and make her uneasy. After a few more drinks, he came to her as her friend’s played billiards, leaving her alone at the bar.

‘How are you, Trudy? You look good.’ He asked, his eyes roaming over her body.

She blushed but answered, telling him she was fine and he looked good, too. He liked hearing that and offered to buy her a drink. He was wearing a leather jacket and Levi jeans, his hair long and black.

‘Uh, I can’t, I have to be going soon.’ She stammered, still very scared of him.

‘Oh come on, just one. I’ll give you a lift home on my bike if you need it.’ He offered, smiling sweetly.

He was so good looking and cool, a real bad boy with a big Triumph bike, just like in the movies. She nodded yes, not able to refuse him, flattered he wanted to be in her company. He bought her a rum and coke and chatted with her as if they were old friends, making her relax and even laugh with him. She liked him and was surprised by how good his company was. They talked for ages about school and the town and how they both wanted to get out at some stage, none of them mentioning Jane for fear of spoiling the mood.

‘I thought you needed to leave soon?’ He suddenly asked, catching her by surprise.

‘Oh, yeah, I forgot all about that.’ She lied, knowing she didn’t have to go.

‘Do you want a lift home or shall we stay here, have some more fun, or maybe go for a ride in the country if you’d prefer?’ He asked, grinning.

Trudy was scared again, his expression now a little creepy as he finished his drink and turned as if to walk out, expecting her to follow.

‘Home, I should go home.’ She said, finishing her drink.

‘Ok, home it is. Next time we’ll do something different, maybe go for a meal somewhere?’

Much to her surprise, he took her straight home, not even attempting to kiss her once they were there, only asking her if he could take her out soon. She agreed and said goodbye, a little disappointed he didn’t take her somewhere quiet.

A few days later he was arrested for stabbing a man in a fight, who died two days after, leading to Peter being convicted of manslaughter and going to jail. She never saw him again but thought about that night on many occasions, wondering what she would have done if he had tried it on with her. Her fingers were inside her again, bringing her to another orgasm, her second in just a few minutes, something she hadn’t done for years.

She felt good now and for the first time in ages wanted to be with someone sexually, maybe even try something different, naughty and a bit kinky. She stood and looked at herself yet again, running her hands over her beautiful body, wishing a burglar would come in and ravish her.

‘God, what the fuck is happening to me?’ She giggled, shocked by her thoughts and behaviour.

It was still early afternooon and the rain had gone, leaving it nice and sunny. Trudy needed to do something and take her mind off of sex, this new feeling of actually wanting to find someone to fuck was very disconcerting. She phoned her friend and asked if she wanted a game of tennis, knowing the indoor court at the school was free this afternoon.

Amy, her friend, reluctantly agreed, only doing so when Trudy promised to babysit her dog when she and Thomas, her husband, went away in a few weeks time. Trudy always thrashed her at tennis and never let her win, not once, even on her birthday. They agreed to meet in half an hour.

Trudy loved Amy, she was such a good sport and so much fun to be around. They had been friends ever since Brian became head two years ago. Amy already played tennis but was no match for Trudy, not many were at the school. But they soon became firm friends, going out together as couples and on their own. They had similar interests and were the same age, though Amy wasn’t as attractive as Trudy.

Trudy quickly put on her tennis skirt and top and grabbed her sports bag, leaving straight away to warm up before Amy arrived. It was only a few minutes walk across the school grounds and she was there in no time. It was a huge sports hall with a tennis court, a five-aside court and some cricket nets. The court was free as she entered the hall, but there was a group of boys playing football the other end of the building with Mr Finch, the PE teacher. They waved at each other as Trudy took out her racket and balls.

Amy arrived on time, looking daggers at Trudy as she realised she had been there warming up.

‘You sneaky bitch, warming up, as if you’re not already better than me.’

Trudy laughed, serving a quick ball over the net, just missing Amy.

‘Say sorry or I’m going home and promise to let me win.’ Amy insisted, hitting the ball back at Trudy.

‘I’m sorry and I promise to let you win.’ Trudy answered, smiling sweetly.

‘I hate you, Let’s go, your ass is mine.’ She shot back.

Amy managed to keep the first set to 6-4 but it took everything she had, the sweat pouring out of her. The second set was not quite as close, and to make it worse, the boys playing football had finished and were watching the two ladies. As Trudy served an ace to win the second set 6-1, Amy landed on her ass for umpteenth time trying to reach it, right in front of the boys, just to complete her humiliation.

The boys all clapped, making Amy feel even worse. One of them helped her up, telling her she was in the wrong position when Trudy served. ‘Really?’ She asked, sarcastically, going to her towel and wiping her face. The boy was Charles Wooton, the only boy who could beat Trudy at the school. Amy gave him her racket and told him to take over, she was finished and wanted to go home.

‘Amy, one more set, please? I will play nice I promise.’ Trudy pleaded.

‘You don’t know how to play nice, it’s not in your character. I just hope Charles gives you a good thrashing. I love you and I’ll see you tonight.’ She said, picking up her bag and leaving.

The boys all giggled as she left, wanting to see Charles play the sexy headmaster’s wife. They all thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world and loved to gawp at her when she was playing tennis. She had the sexiest legs and her skirt always gave them a good look.

Mr Finch called the boys, telling them to shower and get to their next lesson. They all sighed with disappointment, wanting some wanking material for later.

‘Mr Finch, could I borrow Charles for a little while, my partner had to go and I really want another set, please?’ She asked, fluttering her eyelids.

Mr Finch laughed, knowing he had no real choice, she was the wife of the head and could have whatever she wanted. ‘Of course, send him back when you’re done.’ He answered, laughing.

Trudy smiled back and looked over the net at Charles, the fourteen-year-old heir to a fortune. He was an arrogant little shit but an excellent tennis player. He regularly beat her and was getting even better, a real prospect for becoming a professional, though he wanted to be a cricketer more.

‘Are you making me play with this racket or shall I go and get my own?’ He asked, looking dismissively at Amy’s racket.

‘With that one, stop trying to make excuses already.’ She told him, knowing he would still probably beat her.

He smiled back at her, smugly, liking her sense of humour. She was so beautiful and funny and good to be around, all the boys thought so. He had tried to flirt with her on many occasions but got absolutely no response whatsoever, as did the other boys. She was an ice maiden who gave them nothing, making her even more desirable.

Trudy of course knew they liked her and expected them to flirt and act like idiots, they were teenagers afterall, but she was completely indifferent to them in that regard. Young boys held no attraction for her and she ignored every attempt thay made to be sexual. She did like some of them and found them amusing at times but never more than that.

‘Ok Miss, but winning when your opponent is at a disadvantage must surely be a hollow victory?’ He suggested, deliberately calling her Miss and not Mrs.

‘That might be true for someone with a sense of honour but I assure you sir, I have no such honour.’ She teased, throwing a ball over the net to play for serve.

‘Ah, I see madam, a valuable lesson for me to learn, one I shan’t forget.’ He answered, hitting the ball back.

Trudy smashed it down the line, winning the right to serve first. ‘Ok sir, are you ready?’

‘I am.’

Even with Amy’s racket, he was good, very good and after thirty five minutes it was six games all. ‘Shall we call it a draw, Miss? Honours even.’ Charles offered, condescendingly, knowing this would annoy her.

And it did, she looked at him and saw all the priviledge and centuries of being the ruling class standing before her, mocking her working class origins.

‘I think not, sir. A tie breaker, first to seven points.’

Charles nodded, liking how he could get under her skin and pleased to still be playing, getting to see her sexy thighs and panties, even if they were big enough to cover an elephant. Trudy served first and lost the point, as she did all the others, losing the tie break seven to zero. She ended the last point on her bum, just like Amy did, her legs apart as Charles stood above her, his hand out.

‘Unlucky, Miss, good effort.’ He teased, looking at her panties and thighs.

Trudy was breathing hard, sweat dripping down her face and neck, her eyes on her feet, wondering how she slipped. She heard Charles and looked up, his eyes on her thighs as he held out his hand. He had beat her fair and square, she thought, letting him perv on her for a few seconds.

‘You really should take tennis serious, you are very, very good.’ She told him, taking his hand and letting him pull her up.

‘Only if you coach me, Miss?’ He said, making no attempt to hide his desire for her, still holding her hand.

She wasn’t sure if it was her two orgasms earlier or that she had been fantasizing about rape, but she let him hold her hand, not pulling it away, looking into his eyes. He was definitely a good looking boy and had a nice physique, she thought, brushing her hair from her face.

‘Ask my husband when he gets back, explain to him why you think I would make a good coach and if he agrees, I’m all yours.’ She dared him, taking her hand back.

‘If I did that, I might get expelled, Miss, then who would challenge you on the court?’ He answered.

Trudy chuckled and picked up her racket: ‘Oh Mr Wooton, you are going to be so insufferable when you’re older.’

‘I thought I already was, Miss?’ He asked.

‘I’m going for a shower, thank you for the game, Charles.’ She giggled.

‘The showers in our changing room are really good, we can share if you’d like.’ He asked, still full of confidence, following after her.

For the first time ever, she felt like playing along with the flirting, it was amusing and even a little exciting, maybe this was her being bolder.

‘What if we got caught, though?’ She asked, trying to sound serious.

Charles was stunned, not that he believed her but that she was actually flirting back. He looked at her from behind, trying to imagine her naked, his cock beginning to grow.

‘Then I would blame you and plead my innocence.’ He answered.

She couldn’t help but laugh, he was so funny. ‘So chivalrous, sir.’

He wanted to reach out and grab her, pull her to him and kiss her, show her what a man he was. When they reached the changing rooms, she walked on, leaving Charles to shower alone.

‘You know our class is serving everyone tonight? We are the waiters, we will be at your beck and call.’ He told her, not wanting her to leave.

That evening was the retirement dinner of Mr Phelps, the geography teacher, and Trudy was taking her husband’s place while he was away. The dinner was in the school dining hall and she was giving the first speech after they all had eaten. She didn’t mind, it was an excuse to dress up and have a drink, plus Amy would be there.

‘I didn’t know that, well, you better do a good job. It will be a chance for you to see what it’s like on the other side of the social fence.’ She answered, stopping and looking back at him.

‘I will make sure I’m the waiter for your table, Miss.’

‘Lucky me.’ Trudy answered, still looking at him.

‘Be nice or I’ll put a fly in your soup.’ He warned her.

‘As long as that’s all you put in it.’ She told him, instantly regretting being so vulgar.

‘Miss! Whatever are you suggesting?’ He snapped back at her, excited but shocked by her joke, never hearing her talk like this before.

She had gone too far, she thought, wondering why she was doing it, blaming earlier.

‘I’ll see you tonight, Charles. Thank you again for the game.’

‘Anytime, Miss.’ He replied, disappointed she wasn’t playing any more.

Charles went to the changing rooms and Trudy headed home for another shower, cursing herself for being so silly.

In the two years her and Brian had been at the school, she had never behaved like that with any of the pupils. She had been absolutely firm about the way she was with all the kids, never allowing herself to get involved in anything that might lead to any of them getting the wrong idea. It had to be that way considering Brian’s new position of headmaster. It was a very posh school with some of the most privileged children in the country attending.

Brian was forty when he got the job, something he had been striving for, for many years. Trudy was so proud of him and was more than happy to move to the small town of Hitchin, in Hertfordshire. The school was hundreds of years old and a nice house in the grounds came with the position of head. They were both very happy at first and everything seemed rosey. But Brian threw himself into his new role and left little room for anything or anyone else, leaving Trudy to feel more and more ignored and isolated.

It wasn’t all his fault, Trudy found new friends, like Amy, and enjoyed the social life that went with it. She was always playing tennis or going out somewhere with Amy and others. Soon they were both immersed in other worlds and ignoring their own. Brian was away quite often now, always eager to go to whatever conference or training the school would offer him, leaving Trudy on her own. And so, that evening, she was hosting a retirement dinner for a long-standing teacher instead of her husband.

Trudy showered again and tried to understand why she had flirted with young Charles, thinking again of Peter fucking his sister. But it wasn’t that she knew, it was something else, something scarier. She suddenly felt as though her whole life had been bland and vanilla, boring and uneventful, so typical of a housewife with no imagination. She felt an anger rising in her chest, telling her she was so suburban and incapable of anything exciting.

‘No, shut up, your life is good and there’s nothing wrong with normal.’ She told herself, looking in the mirror.

She grabbed her dressing gown and went downstairs, trying to put such silly thoughts out of her head. She made some tea and turned on the radio, sitting at the table and going over her speech, trying to distract herself. The dinner was at seven, three hours away, giving her plenty of time to rehearse and choose an outfit.

Meanwhile, young Charles was telling his friends all about how Mrs Smith had flirted with him and how he was going to fuck her. His friends wanted her as much as he did and all of them tried to come up with a plan to make her theirs.

Trudy had her short speech rehearsed and was happy with it. She was ready to do her hair and make-up and choose a dress, something nice but appropriate for a retirement dinner. When her hair and make-up were perfect, she was ready for her dress, going to her wardrobe and looking at her extensive collection.

Twenty minutes later she had made her choice, standing in front of the mirror and smiling at her reflection, happy with how she looked. She had on her pink evening dress, the short one that showed off her long, shapely legs and small waist. It was tight at the waist with a low back and a modest front, her average breasts looking a little bigger because of the way the dress lifted them up. She turned and looked at her bare back, admiring how strong it looked and pleased with the amount of flesh on display, knowing how sexy it made her look. Her nipples ached a little as she did a few twirls and walked back and forth, gauging how best to maximize her look.

It was six pm and she was ready to go, taking one last look in the mirror, surprised her nipples were sticking out as much as they were. She pulled her straps off her shoulders and looked at them, feeling how hard they were and squeezing them, the feeling quite delicious. God, she thought, I need to make them shrink or everyone will see them, especially with no bra underneath.