The Joy of Sex (Part Three)

By Anne Summer

A continuation of the 'Under Plain Wrapper' series of titles combined into this third volume
The theme of the mature woman exploring her sexuality is continued from the first two volumes of 'The Joy of Sex' and the stories are in the same vogue, being highly sensual and involving explicit sexual activity

• Language: English
• Publisher: Anne Summer
• Release date: Sep 6, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370523535

Anne Summer

We believe that women are emotional and loving rather than just sex-crazed animals. As such, the kind of erotica that we enjoy, perhaps crave, are basically gentle and affectionate rather than simply raunchy, even debauched.Our stories reflect this. Fundamental niceness and a degree of refinement in use of language is what we seek to achieve.Please Welcome my co-author, ? Sandy Sinful (or Sinful Sandy if you like!) Sandy joins me to make our team "Sinful Summer" in celebration of long hot, steamy nights of pleasure, taken in the delight of beautiful, masculine men and sometimes lusty women too! We are here to enjoy and be enjoyed. Sigh!

Book preview

‘The Joy of Sex

(Part Three)’

A collection of short stories by Anne Summer, originally partially published as a series called ‘Under Plain Wrapper’

Copyright 2017 by Anne Summer

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people except that if you would like to share this book with another person, please be sure that they are an adult of at least 18 years of age.

It is the birthright of every woman to enjoy a fulfilling and satisfactory sex life. The seven short erotic stories which make up this book explore this theme and by so doing invite all women to consider their own emotional and sexual needs and desires. There are few human experiences more exciting than the frisson of a new assignation, the tingling anticipation of a new and arousing Affaire de Coeur.

The stories here are not of the type: ‘beautiful 18 year old cheerleader has a crush on her stepfather’ rather those of more mature women extending their sexual boundaries.

Enjoy!

Anne

The Titles

Page 3 The Looking Glass Wall

Page 15 Fanny

Page 30 #Supersize George.

Page 36 #Wanton

Page 44 Rebirth

Page 60 #The Hedonist Club

Also by Anne Summer an erotica novel

‘I, Punter’

The Looking Glass Wall

I love looking at myself in a mirror. That makes me narcissistic, doesn’t it. There is a saying that goes ‘if you’ve got it, why not flaunt it’. Just as well, then that nobody’s able to watch me or they might get the wrong idea.

Or so I thought!

‘The Looking Glass Wall’

We moved in just after Thanksgiving. My husband Louis is a realtor so the house never even appeared on the market and we got it for a bargain price. I was in love with it from the moment we first looked around.

It had been standing empty as the owners had gone abroad to do with an overseas contract so we never even met them. It is in one of those long sprawling suburban streets in an upmarket area where everyone pretty much keeps to themselves, which suited us just fine. It is an extensive bungalow with four bedrooms and two reception rooms, bigger than our present needs but one day we may raise a family and anyway, it has a good property value so could be a bit of an investment. That’s what Louis said, and he should know.

He works for a good name company and manages some big commercial clients as well as his domestic portfolio and that keeps him on the go, often entertaining late and sometimes stopping over downtown. On the other hand, I do most of my work from home. I am a technical translator with a science background, I’m fluent in Chinese and pretty good at Japanese so I’m never short of work, and well paid work at that. Sometimes it’s a job to keep up with it.

The new house suits my lifestyle brilliantly. I have a well-lit and well appointed study and quickly made it into my own with thick pile rugs and some rather erotic Japanese paintings to remind me of my sensuality and stimulate my thoughts if I get bogged down in the work.

My weekday fell naturally into an efficient and pleasant pattern. I rise in time to breakfast with Louis and after a pot of coffee, kiss him goodbye and retire to the study to put in about four hours of intensive work – I’m good like that – but then I’m finished and I have a rule never to work in the afternoon. That’s my private time and I value it.

To the rear is an extensive patio with the swimming pool beyond. It is nicely walled in all around in light-coloured stone, relieved by a swiss-cheese plant at each corner standing in enormous decorated pots and growing high enough to overtop the wall. They also attract small birds who twitter about amongst their foliage. Full-height sliding glass panels can close in the patio if the weather is cool, as it may well be in the winter but now they are open and the temperature is just perfect through the afternoon and evening, catching the sun over the pool.

At the right hand end is a full-height one-way glass window so that I can see over across the lawned area separating us from next door without myself being visible. Sometimes I get to see their kids playing out the back and that is company enough. On the left hand end is a blank ceramic wall which provides a nice, shaded and slightly cool corner where I have set up the rowing machine, a couple of gym mats and a lounger. There is even a black enamelled pole about three feet from the wall if I feel like pole dancing.

I have fallen into a pleasurable routine. When I have done my stint, I take my lunch which is always a bit of a healthy option and go out on to the patio. I love being naked and here is my private place where I can be my natural self. I use the rowing machine for about twenty minutes to keep my back strong and my thigh muscles in good trim, then dive into the pool, swim some lengths (it isn’t very long but that’s fine by me), then luxuriate, floating idly in the water until I have cooled off. Afterwards, I climb out to lie on my lounger and either doze or perhaps to read a book with, usually, a bit of Mozart as background musical stimulation.

I haven’t tried out the pole yet, but I’m thinking about it!

We don’t know a lot about the neighbours although we did go and introduce ourselves once we had settled in. On the right are a family of five. Bit of a whirlwind lifestyle, I think. Always on the go, a bit harassed, their childrens’ myriad activities dominating everything. Not for me, that’s for sure. I need some tranquillity in my life.

On the left a childless couple. A bit ‘my body is my temple’. He is big, muscular and rather dishy. His name is Magnus. She is petite, trim and pretty. A bit like me perhaps and who am I to criticise – I am a bit narcissistic if I’m honest and I had had a full-length mirror fixed on the wall so I can watch myself doing my rowing exercise. And view myself pole dancing, when I get around to it.

So that was the first month of my new life in the new house. We decided not to have a housewarming party. Louis has been incredibly busy, poor thing. (Poor thing! All those expenses paid dinners and he’s never invited me to one of them yet.) The first night he was away altogether, though, I felt a bit lonely and I felt how big the house was and how I was rather lost in it. I needed half a bottle of Chardonnay to keep up my spirits and a decent film on the enormous flat-screen TV in the main living room.

But after that, I got used to it. Louis can be away for two or even three nights during the week. The journey to where he works is over an hour away and if he drinks then he can’t drive and so stops over. Tonight is one of those nights. He phoned around six pm and that was that. He misses me, of course but then, I miss him too, so we will have to make up tomorrow night when he gets home and I will do his favourite dish (clam chowder) and we shall get slightly drunk and make love (hopefully, because sometimes he has been, as he says ‘tuckered out’ and fell asleep as soon as he got into bed).

I wandered rather aimlessly down to the general store. It is close enough not to have to drive and I get to imbibe a little of the ambience of the neighbourhood. I really do like it here! At the store, I bought a few groceries and another bottle of Chardonnay.

On my way back, I collected the mail, popped a pizza into the microwave and settled in the sitting room with a glass of wine. I had already binned the junk mail and all that was left was an A4 stiff-backed manila envelope. It was addressed to me by Christian name only – ‘Naomi’.

I slit it open and drew out the contents.

If I had been holding the wineglass, I would have dropped it on the floor.

It contained a photograph. Nothing else. I was staring at a picture of myself from the waist up, looking directly at the camera from about three feet away. I was naked and cupping my breasts in my hands, lifting them towards the photographer. My big, dark aureoles, my taught, pointed erect nipples were beautifully, even magnificently posed and I was pouting towards the unseen photographer. The quality was professional. It was the sexiest picture that I have ever seen. And it was me!

I simply stared at it uncomprehending while a maelstrom of emotions swirled around me. I couldn’t take my eyes off it. I was bewitched, lost in the beautiful impossibility of it. Every detail of me was pin sharp, the detail merciless yet my natural beauty transcended it. Yes, I am beautiful said the photograph. My image is perfect in its imperfections.

There is a small