Cynthia's Life On The Wild Side - Sex Stories

Cynthia's Life On The Wild Side

Cynthia brushed out what had once been her ash-blonde hair as she stood before the bathroom mirror and studied her reflection closely. Her flouncy bob cut of silvery grey hair went well with her softly tanned skin. It glowed with health, and her slender face was less drawn than in the days following her return from Kenya and a tumultuous holiday that she and Jeffrey, her husband, had spent there and to be reunited with friends.

She had pursued a tempestuous affair with a local man, known to them from earlier times in the country, and when Jeffrey had been away on a bush trip of a few days. Her lustful, and accomplished, lover had torn away the veneer of propriety that those she associated with, here at home, in England, thought that she lived by.

She knew that her memories of an affair with Jaali Onyango would slowly melt away, but what she had done with him had reignited a flame, one that she thought had been thoroughly damped through the years of her marriage, only to flare up again. She had not been overly promiscuous in her youth but never could deny that she loved to learn from the men with whom she had pursued torrid affairs, no matter how short-lived and disappointing those times may have been in some cases.

Such criticism, or disappointment, could not be said or felt after her nights in Jaali’s arms and what he had brought to her, which Jeffrey remained blissfully unaware of.

She knew only too well how destructive and deceitful her behaviour had been, but ...

... she had her needs, and Jeffrey would be the last person to understand what it might mean to be in an‘open marriage’. He was happy and satisfied with what they shared; she had discovered, with Jaali, that she wanted so much more before her body did give up on her and she lost for good what Jaali had found so seductive and desirable, a passionate heart beating in a voluptuous and tended body, along with a willingness to throw off the shackles that tied her to an only too ordered life.

“Well, I’m off!” she heard Jeffrey say in his happy way of speaking. “I should be back by six, no later than seven.”

He leaned in and kissed her cheek in farewell, one hand giving a squeeze to her bare shoulder. She had yet to get dressed for the day and now sat at her dressing table, in her bra and nicks, as a moisturising cream was smoothed into her skin. She smiled at his reflection in the mirror on seeing how his eyes drifted over her, taking in the freckles on her skin and the indolent swell of her breasts.

“Do my back before you go, there’s a dear,” she asked in her somewhat superior tone of voice that she so often fell into using on him. Jeffrey soon did as he was asked, his touch smoothing in the cream as if he was polishing his car rather than as a means of offering a parting caress.

He could be so closed in on himself and there were times when that was the last thing she needed.

“You haven’t forgotten that the gate and fence man will be here next week, Tuesday to Thursday, ...