Written by: Anonymous
Elaine peered through the front window, hoping that she might see the postman coming down the street.
Nothing. Again.
She had been checking every five minutes for the past hour, and her nervous excitement made her dizzy and breathless. Not that she usually felt this way about the postman’s daily round. But, today was different. She was expecting a special package. Something she had ordered from a catalog.
She went and put the kettle on, despite having a cold cup of tea already sitting untouched on the marble bench top.
Part of her anxiety was the fear of being outed for her uncharacteristic purchase. What if the wrapping was torn and revealed the secret contents? What if the wrapping wasn’t plain, but plastered with the “Freedom Sex Shop” logo?
Her paranoid musings were interrupted by the feint sound of a motorbike. It was him. Elaine rushed to the window once more. Sure enough, riding down the street from house to house was the postman. And sure enough, he stopped at number 35 Virginia Parade and placed a shoebox-sized parcel, plain wrapped, into the mail box.
Elaine forced herself to wait until the postman had left the street before casually wandering out to collect her prize, double checking to see that none of the neighbors had noticed the delivery.
Virginia Parade was a well-to-do suburb populated by doctors, lawyers, and business professionals and their spouses. In almost all cases, the men worked and the women were the home makers. The householders tended to be people in their late 40’s and 50’s who no longer had children at home. In Elaine’s case, there was no husband either. Graham had died of a heart attack six months earlier, leaving her financially well-off, but alone. Her husband’s death wasn’t that great a loss – they weren’t really in love anymore, just comfortable with each other. She got over it quickly. What Elaine did miss though, was sex. Not that their sexual relationship had been overly frequent. But it was more than she was getting now.
She had never really indulged in masturbation during her marriage. It wasn’t the done thing. But since Grahams death, Elaine had found herself masturbating regularly. It was a liberating experience. With the house entirely to herself now, she could masturbate when and where she liked – and as often as she liked.
Elaine would often lie on her bed so she could see herself in the wardrobe mirror. Then she would proceed to touch herself, delighting in watching the reflected figure’s pleasure. She would cup her ample breasts in her hands and gentle knead them, flicking her nipples with a forefinger until they were long and stiff. She loved to play with her breasts, pinching the nipples as she became more and more aroused. When she felt a warmth and moistness between her legs, she would spread her legs and slide a hand down over her greying bush to reveal engorged and pouting labia. Using her wetness as a lubricant, Elaine would rub her clitoris with deft fingers, as feelings of pleasure washed over her. As she became more excited, Elaine would dart a finger in and out of her vagina, then back to rubbing her clitoris whilst her other hand was still kneading her breasts and pinching her nipples. Orgasm was always a mind numbing conclusion, with her body twisting and gyrating as the waves of pleasure sent her to a wor