Midlife Sex Crisis

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Big Tits

“I need a hot and hard fuck,” I said urgently, the minute Celia picked up my call.

There was a pause on the other end of the line and then, “Jesus, Beth. Don’t you even say hello anymore?” whispered Celia.

“I’m as horny as hell and frustrated so all my nice words have been used up today.” I replied.

Still in hushed tones, Celia answered, “Look, I’m at the Nosh Deli getting my lunch. The nice lady behind the counter does not need to hear me talk dirty to you.”

I sighed in frustration, “Come over to my place tonight please. I really need to talk.”

“Ok, but you’d better have some decent wine and food.” She almost cut the phone call, before I quickly added,

“Please bring me some AAA batteries! My rabbit has been over worked and it has no power left. I can’t get to the shops today.” I complained.

There was a faint guffaw on the end of the line and then it went dead.

Celia, a fifty-year old single mother, was one of my closest friends. She was the one you called when you had any type of crisis, especially sex related.

Her parents were extremely open-minded about sex so no subject was off limits for Celia when she was growing up. Her mum even took her to their family doctor to get the pill when she was just fifteen and Celia was allowed to have sleepovers with her boyfriend when she turned sixteen — sixteen!

My God, my parents didn’t talk to me about anything remotely sexual. I even had to find out about periods from my school friends at the age of nine. Thank goodness for the women’s magazines my older sister had left lying around her bedroom. I learnt all about blowjobs and cunnilingus from the sex pages of those wonderful magazines. My eyes almost bulged out of my head reading all the explicit details, especially as I was only fourteen at the time.

Anyway, I digress. The reason for my panicked phone call to Celia on this particular Friday lunchtime is that lately, my libido has been out of control. It has completely taken me by surprise because it has been lying dormant for years now.

I noticed the decline in my thirties. I’ve always been quite indifferent towards sex and I could take it or leave it. It didn’t bother my ex-husband, David either, as he was ten year’s older than me and his libido started to diminish once he hit forty.

In the last three years of our marriage, we were like housemates, friendly and polite with each other, but with no intimacy and very little conversation.

The split was very amicable. We sat down for breakfast together one day and I asked him if we should consider getting a divorce and without any hesitation, he agreed. It was all very neat and tidy and I didn’t feel sad at all.

So here I am, a forty-five year old divorcee, living alone in a two-bedroom apartment in the city of Sydney, Australia. I’m feeling extremely horny every minute of every day, with no one around to help me release all the sexual tension.

There is a constant ache between my legs and embarrassingly, I now have to carry a couple of spare panties to change into during the day, as the first pair are getting quite damp from my own juices.

My thighs are rubbing together when I walk (the thigh gap disappeared along with my twenties) so I feel delicious friction between my legs, which seems to travel up to my clit.

I take the train to work and I am like a tightly coiled spring and when any man, accidently bumps me, I jolt in shock and lust. It doesn’t matter what they look like, although to be honest the handsome ones make me even hotter.

A few times, I have deliberately stood next to a man on the train and edged myself slightly closer to him to try and sniff his body odour. I have started to find the scent of a man intoxicating and arousing.

I wonder if I am carrying myself differently, as I am getting a lot more stares from these male commuters; or maybe they are only looking at me because they sense I am staring at them? Or perhaps they can now detect the invisible pheromones emitting from my body and it’s calling out to them like a siren?

I tried sniffing my armpits to see if I could smell a different scent, but it seemed the same to me. When I am on the toilet, I do catch a stronger muskier smell than normal, drifting up from between my legs. It makes me think that men can smell my pussy even when they are standing metres away. I mean, dogs certainly do, as more of them seem to rudely poke their snouts between my legs, whenever I am near them.

I am looking at men’s tight butts and crotches, all the time. My gaze is immediately drawn to their private parts as they walk towards me on the street.

I am hoping to see the outline of their dicks or their balls and I imagine how big they are. I would like to catch the outline of an erection and know I caused it. That would make my day.

I look at men’s hands a lot too and think about the shape of their cocks, based on their fingers. I did notice there was a slight correlation with finger length and thickness, to penis length and girth. This may have been purely coincidental escort ataşehir for all the men I have ever slept with.

I realise that my fixation on strangers and sex has become an unhealthy obsession and I need Celia to get me back on track or at least tell me what I need to do to cool down this heat.

I have a lovely apartment by the water, overlooking the Opera House and Harbour Bridge. It is on the third floor of a small brick building, up three flights of stairs.

The main entrance leads off into a large kitchen on the right, one guest bedroom on the left and a large lounge next to it. Through the hallway, there is a master bedroom and the bathroom.

I love the apartment for the light, the views and the amazing location. The divorce from David left me with a very good settlement and I used the money for this place.

***

When the doorbell rang at 6.30 p.m. that evening, I rushed to the door and virtually yanked Celia inside. She and I live only twenty minutes drive from one another so we catch up nearly every week.

“Hey, good evening to you too! What’s the rush?” she asked shrugging off her coat and kicking off her heels.

“Sorry Celia, I’m just desperate to talk to you, come through to the kitchen. I’ll get us drinks and we can get comfy on the terrace.”

I took Celia’s coat and laid it on the bed in my spare room and then walked to the kitchen where Celia was standing with two wine glasses in her hand.

She had just come straight from work and was in her uniform of neat navy suit, white shirt and purple silk scarf tied jauntily around her neck. She worked as a travel consultant for a private agency and they were strict with their uniform. Her wavy blond hair was styled in a neat chignon and she had on a full face of make up.

I, on the other hand had spent the day working at home, which is what I do every day as I am a freelance journalist. I was wearing my usual t-shirt and leggings combo, which was rather uninspiring. My shoulder length dark brown hair was tied up in a messy ponytail and I wore no make up.

I poured us both a good measure of Sauvignon Blanc and took a mezze platter to the outside terrace.

The terrace is one of the best features of the apartment and has amazing views over to the city and the two most iconic landmarks in Sydney. It is a beautiful oasis of large potted plants, container shrubs, plus a gas barbecue, a table and four chairs.

I put the platter of food on the table and we sat down. I didn’t waste any time and got straight to the point.

“I’m thinking about sex all the time, Celia. I think something strange has happened to me. I’ve never felt so sexually charged in my entire life.”

To give Celia credit, she didn’t look at all shocked. “Welcome to my world.” She laughed. “I always think about sex. It’s fantastic.”

“It is not fantastic. I am a bitch in heat! I am desperate to have sex and not with my dildo.” I cried.

Celia burst out laughing, “Maybe you need more sex toys.”

“I need more than sex toys. I need to do something about this burning lust that I am feeling all the time. I’m practically rubbing myself up against strangers on the train.”

“Some men might actually enjoy that,” she said wiggling her eyebrows at me.

“This constant state of arousal is very distracting.” I lamented.

“I have started to masturbate twice a day, morning and night to satisfy myself, but it’s not working. I’m still feeling horny afterwards. How is that even possible?”

Celia leaned over her chair to rummage through her bag, “Oh, before I forget. Here are the batteries you wanted.” She deposited a pack of AAA and AA batteries on the table.

“I didn’t know which size so I bought you both. I don’t know why you don’t just buy rechargeable dildos. They are so much more convenient and you never run out of batteries,” she said.

“Thank you for the batteries. I’m embarrassed to admit that I still only have one vibrator. I bought it years ago when David and I were trying to inject some spark back into our sex life.”

“God you’re so naive. Sex toys have changed quite a bit since then. You need to do some research online. Maybe if you had more toys, you wouldn’t be so desperate for a fuck. It’s quite possible that your old vibrator just isn’t up to the task,” said Celia.

“I don’t know. I don’t think this is going to go away with the help of some vibrating toys.”

For the rest of the evening, Celia and I talked more about my high sex drive, relationships, our ex-husbands and other topics ranging from clothes, to politics to work. We have a very close friendship, developed over eight years and we comfortably spend the whole night talking.

After we had finished nearly two bottles of wine between us, ordered take away pizza and guiltily shared a cigarette on the balcony; we moved into the lounge and sat on the three-seater couch, almost half asleep.

I felt myself drifting off, when Celia suddenly piped up, “Have you ever watched any porn?”

My eyes snapped open and I looked kadıköy escort bayan across at her.

“No, I haven’t. It seems a bit sad doing that all alone.”

“You have no idea what you’re missing, Beth. Go get your laptop.”

I reluctantly peeled myself off the couch and retrieved my laptop from the spare room. We sat closer together and I passed the laptop to Celia, after firing it up and logging in.

Her fingers moved quickly across the keyboard and in no time at all, she had logged onto a porn site, which she said was amazing and had been set up by a woman, especially for women.

Without any hesitation, she clicked on the videos and I gawped when the moving picture of two perfect couples appeared on screen, fully nude and in the throes of penetrative sex. The zoom on the camera, left nothing to the imagination.

“Here you go,” she said, thrusting the laptop back at me. “Free porn. You can save the website in your bookmark. Nothing beats watching porn and masturbating; unless of course you can watch it with a partner, while having sex,” she smirked.

Wow, after my confession about being horny and needing a good fuck, Celia was letting out all her secrets and not hiding her sex knowledge in any way. She was one confident, fearless and sexually charged woman. I stared at her in amazement and with something akin to awe.

“Celia, you are amazing. Why didn’t you tell me how dirty you were?”

“You were married and happy being a non-sexual being. I didn’t think you were that interested, to be honest. No point rubbing sex in your face when you didn’t care much for it. Now however, well…..things have changed I guess,” she grinned.

The porn video was still showing on my laptop and I couldn’t help myself stealing glances at it. Jesus, that penis was huge. I clicked on another video and felt myself get damp between my legs. One woman, two men — double entry. Bloody hell. I stared at the moving bodies, with my mouth wide open.

“Uh oh, I recognise that look,” said Celia. “I’m going to go home now before you decide to jump on me,” she laughed.

“You do look quite beautiful, tonight Celia. I said fluttering my eyelashes at her and stroking her arm. Have you ever done it with a girl before?” I cackled when I saw a brief flash of uncertainty in her eyes.

“Relax, I’m messing you with. I’m still straight,” I assured her.

“Thank fuck for that.” Was her sardonic reply.

I slammed my laptop shut. I didn’t need any more titillation and I was quite possibly too drunk to orgasm anyway.

“Thanks for the porn site link, Celia. I’ll watch those videos when I’m alone. Shall I call you a taxi or do you want to sleep in the spare room tonight?” I asked her.

“I’ll just go home, thanks Beth. I have too much to do on Saturday morning and I really need to get up early,” she said stretching her arms over her head.

When Celia’s taxi arrived, we gave each other a hug and promised to catch up the following week.

I went to bed feeling like my body was weightless and slept like a log. The alcohol had dulled the ache in my pussy, for the time being.

***

A few days after seeing Celia, a large, brown nondescript box arrived on my doorstep. I couldn’t remember ordering anything online so when I ripped off the brown tape and saw an array of sex toys, I almost dropped the parcel in shock.

Inside was a message:

“Dear Beth, I hope these goodies temporarily satisfy your insatiable appetite. Love C.”

I sent her a quick text:

Amazing goodies, Celia. Thank you, thank you. Xx

A huge grin spread across my face and I tore open each of the individual boxes, in anticipation of what I would find.

My God, Celia had thought of everything. My eyes blurred from the amount of stuff she had ordered. She was so thoughtful that she had even included lube and toy cleaning lotion. Not a single toy needed batteries either. They were all rechargeable. What a fabulous friend she was. I reminded myself to take her out to lunch as a thank you.

I spent half an hour inspecting and cleaning each toy. All of them needed plugging into an electric socket to charge up so I had to find two multi-plug extension leads.

Six different sex toys were lined up next to my kettle, in the kitchen. They looked like a bizarre array of electrical gadgets and I smiled happily to myself.

As I waited impatiently for them to charge up, I made myself a cup of tea and flipped through all the instructions, not that there was much to them.

I kept looking at my new toys and trying to decide which one to try out first. I could feel myself getting wet in anticipation of using them.

They were taking far too long to charge though and I was losing patience. I grabbed the first toy in the line – the love egg vibrator. It was a pleasing dark purple colour, with a silky silicon texture. I tested the weight of it in my hand and stroked its soft surface. When I switched it on, the powerful vibrations gave me such shock that I shrieked and accidently threw it escort bostancı on the floor.

I watched in amusement as it hummed and bounced all along my kitchen tiles and started laughing. The thing moved about a two metres before I caught it and turned it off. Wow, this one was so powerful, I had to test it out right now.

I grabbed two other toys without thinking and walked quickly to my bedroom. I stripped off my clothes, pushed all my bedding to one side and placed the toys on my bedside table. I took the love egg and gently held it between my fingers, then lay down on my back. I spread my legs wide and inserted it in my already wet pussy. No lube was needed at all.

I switched it on using the wireless remote and adjusted the vibrations until they were on full. The sensation inside me felt a bit alien at first. I’m not used to a vibrating dick, but I soon adjusted to the sensation and tried to squeeze my inner muscles to see if that made a difference. If felt good, but something was missing. I needed more stimulation on the outside.

I reached for the pink flickering clitoral stimulator. It was like the vibrating ears on my rabbit dildo, but slightly longer. When I switched it on, it buzzed pleasantly in my hand. I lay back and pressed it against my clit. The initial sensation was almost too much and I bucked at how overly sensitive my clit felt.

After turning down the vibration speed, it became more bearable and I could hold it right against myself. The combined vibrations on the outside and inside brought me to a violent orgasm in less than a minute. I cried out as my legs started to jolt and shake. I could feel liquid spilling out from my pussy, but I was beyond caring.

When I finally came down from my orgasm, I switched off the clit simulator and the egg vibrator. I pulled out the egg using the plastic cord and it plopped out all slippery and wet. I lay on my bed, sweating and still trying to get my breath back.

Incredibly, I was still wildly turned on even after coming. I lay on my bed, unmoving and staring at my ceiling, then I reached for the next toy on my bedside table – a humungous rabbit vibrator. I couldn’t believe that Celia picked this thing — the dirty bitch.

It was big, black and beautiful. I already owned one, but it was nowhere near the size of this king dong. I was already so slippery inside that it was no effort whatsoever to push this inside myself. The size of it made me feel full and the head of it was knocking on my cervix.

When I switched it on, I realised it had so many settings that I lost count. I kept pressing the buttons until the penis shaped end was doing a thrust and twist and the rabbit ears were vibrating at full throttle against my clit. I fucked myself hard and had another knee trembling orgasm. This one took a bit longer to achieve as my clit was feeling slightly numb from my first session. Finally though, I felt sated and later that night, I went to bed with the biggest smile on my face.

***

The following week, my routine consisted of getting up, going to work, coming home, eating dinner and having sex with myself.

The problem with my daily personal sex workouts was that they were making my clit numb from overuse and it was now taking me twice as long to come. I was also getting a bit worried about my addiction to these toys.

They can’t be a substitute for human contact and fucking a real person, can they?

I called Celia.

“Hey! How is Ms Horny doing? How are your new sex toys?” She asked, the minute she saw my name appear on her phone.

“Good Celia, but my clit is about to fall off and I’m still a little frustrated,” I replied.

“Christ, you’re telling me that all those sex toys aren’t satiating your desires?”

“Yes and no. I think I still need a real, hot cock.”

“I know you don’t want to date and you don’t want to go to a bar and pick up a random so I’ve only got one solution for you. Male escorts.” Leaving those two words hanging, she hung up on me.

I was left looking at my phone in disbelief. Had I heard her correctly? I wanted to call her back and talk more, but stopped myself. Instead I sent her a text.

Have you used a male escort before? Where do I find one? Can you recommend one?

Her response was immediate.

Yes. Google. Try The Scarlet Agency

I was not even shocked that Celia had hired the services of a male escort before. I was more surprised that she had never told me.I text her back.

Thanks! Xx

It’s funny what pops up when you type in ‘Male escorts, Sydney’ on the internet. There were so many websites to choose from. I had no idea this world existed. I clicked on the first website and my jaw dropped when the images of so many beautiful men appeared. They were absolutely divine and any one of them could be mine, for the right price.

When I clicked on their image, I was rewarded with more photos of them, in various states of undress. Their faces and bodies captivated me. I looked through each and every one of them and read all their biographies. It was like reading resumes for male escorts. Their prices ranged from $100 an hour to $600 an hour and up to $5,000 for 24 hours! My God, I had no idea that escorts charged this much. I imagine they are worth it though and know exactly how to please a woman.

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