Life on the Run in Skirts Chapter 22
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Life On The Run In Skirts - Chapter 1 free porn video
Life on the Run in Skirts
Prisons come in all forms. Most are made of brick and mortar. Once
outside the walls you are free.
The prisons of the mind are escape proof; all you can do is find a way
to live within the ramparts of your mind.
CHAPTER 1 - A married man when dealing with his wife can be right or
happy, not both.
At the moment, Ellen was sprawled across her bed in a plain white ankle
length flannel nightdress that was buttoned up to her neck. It was her
standard weekday suburban housewife regalia. It wasn't very racy. Her
sexy negligees and lingerie were packed away, reserved for Saturdays.
To her husband, the flannel nightgown reminded him of something his
grandmother used to wear. It was an opinion he prudently kept to
himself.
Ellen was a mature woman with an above average figure, topped by an
attractive face, adorned with long brown hair that framed her fine
porcelain features.
Unlike in her youth, her comfort now took priority over her skimpy
seductress outfits. Something in her phycological makeup had her equate
Saturdays with sex. She wasn't against a little horizontal
entertainment at other times, it's just there's something special about
a Saturday nooner that gets her juices running. Daytime sex was her
preference, with Saturday night a poor second choice yet still
acceptable.
In college, among other things she had been known for the provocative
way she dressed: High heels, short skirts, tight tops and thongs were
her trademark. She gave up comfort and practical for clothes that were
calculated to stimulate. She kept the local Victoria Secrets outlet
store's profits in the black. The best Christmas present she ever got
was when her parents gave her a Victoria's Secret credit card.
She was a player in the social scene and earned more than one varsity
letter. During this party phase she never wanted for suitors. The
lucky ones that got themselves into her bedroom found that it took more
to get Ellen going, but once her engine was running, she was like a
runaway freight train. None of those partners ever left unsatisfied nor
had any complaints about her performance in the boudoir.
She sampled the entire Smorgasbord of sexual partners; white, black,
brown, red, yellow, short, and tall men. There was even a woman
sandwiched in there. No matter her occasional sexual deviation, she
always found her way back to her penchant of musclebound bed partners.
That had more between their legs than between their ears.
Her sexual attitude was imprinted in her DNA from her parents who had
been charter members of the hippie-free love movement. The philosophy
that they engrained in their only child was; being sexually active is
the normal state for homo sapiens, while abstinence was an abomination
and contrary to nature. Since they were agnostics, premarital sex had
no moral repercussions. There were only two rules, both parties had to
be consenting and it should feel good.
They didn't exactly encourage her promiscuity but they weren't upset by
it either. Whenever Ellen reminisced about those good old days, she had
only one regret.
Once she met down to earth George she exchanged her swingers' card for a
socially restrictive wedding ring. She half-heartedly settled into a
more conventional lifestyle. Nowadays it was more common to find her in
slacks and loafers. Her current eight-year marriage had settled into a
routine comfortableness. One area Ellen refused to compromise in was
her relationship in the marriage. No way in hell was she going to be a
meek subservient wife.
Over the years, she had been called a lot of things, you can bet your
sweet bippy, deferential was not one of them. When Ellen wanted
something, she just did it. Thinking if her husband objected, he would
have to speak up, which he smartly never did. She was in charge in the
bedroom. They had sex only when she said so. She accepted that the
lack of sexual excitement was the price to be paid as a regular married
couple. She went along to get along, if nothing else her husband was a
good provider.
George was not, by nature, a romantic type. He tried to make Saturday
nights special to please his wife. It was their 'date' night. It held
the possibility for romance. But alas, to Ellen it was not spontaneous
and everything but romantic. It primarily meant she didn't have to
cook, a chore she hated. They would go to their favorite restaurant.
Dependable George would order the same thing he always did, 'Shepard's
Pie' and unsweet ice tea. Ellen made it a point to try anything new
when it showed up on the menu and to have a different cocktail or two
each time.
After they got home, George disappeared into their bedroom and changed
into his pajamas while Ellen traded her cocktail dress for a sexy
nightgown and peignoir. They would settle down in front of the TV
cuddle and enjoy a glass of wine. After the late show, they moved to
the bedroom for love making. Ellen picked the when, George decided the
how. Therefore, it was always done with George on top in the missionary
position. He always went for what he knew. Anything out of the
ordinary terrified him. He was comfortable with the known while what
she wanted was Circus Olay. Sex, like everything else he did, was task
oriented.
Ellen got the impression that at times he just wanted to get it over
with. As long as he had an orgasm, he felt his job was done, she very
seldom came as a result of their love making. It wasn't exactly the
steamy adventurous sex she was accustomed to as a young girl. She was
no longer hyperfeminine but was still a handsome woman with a perfect
complexion, a smile that revealed pearl white teeth, round cheeks and
the cutest dimples. It was her eyes that melted most men. They were
clear deep brown pools.
She had never been the voluptuous dream girl of adolescent fantasies,
yet she had a better than average body and still looked great in a
bathing suit. Her bikini days seemed to be behind her. Once upon a
time, she had been voted prom queen, she would love to have that body
back. If only there was some way to turn the hands of time back.
Sadly, she had let her appearance slip a tad bit recently, only making
things worse. Her saving grace was her positive bubbling positive
personality. Unquestionably, she was a glass half full personality.
She lay in bed and thought back to how she had met her stodgy husband.
He was the very definition of a nerdy introvert. He was an accountant
for heaven sake, as far away from her liberal arts major as you can get.
If she hadn't taken the initiative, they never would have gotten
involved. She had ducked into the library on a Friday night on her way
to a frat party to get out of the cold and grab a cup of coffee in the
snack bar to warm up.
She passed a table with an androgynous looking lad lost in his studies.
He was so unlike her normal dating material that her first inclination
was to move on and ignore him. However, she felt a melancholiness about
him that Ellen found fascinating. There was an air of something about
this young man with the dark complexion that called to her like a
sailor's siren song. He was not muscular or ruggedly handsome like her
current boyfriend. Rather he could be best described as being cute in a
way that Ellen had never considered a man could be before. She sat
uninvited at his table, unbuckled her overcoat. He felt rather than saw
his private space was being invaded. Looked up he saw a woman that was
way out of his league so he decided not to get his hopes up. She had a
dazzling smile and dark brown eyes that brimmed with mischief and
promise. She introduced herself. He merely smiled at her before going
back to his text book.
She thought he was obviously a loner. As a well-known party girl, she
had heard every pickup line out there. Being ignored was a first for
her. Most men she met tended to be grateful she would condescend to
acknowledge their presence. To be ignored was a challenge to her.
They sat in an uneasy silence for several minutes as she batted her eyes
at him. He seemed oblivious to her advances. Ellen, as was her want,
decided to take charge of the situation. Since he wouldn't do it, she
reached over and pushed the book he was reading down to the table. He
looked up in astonishment. She asked him if he would be so kind as to
show her the way to the cafeteria, adding she would be happy to buy him
a cup of coffee for his inconvenience. George never got back to his
studies, they chatted until closing. Ellen found that George was a
delight to be around. He was truly a social recluse, being the only
person Ellen had ever met with no social media accounts. Despite this
he was upbeat, charming, and he listened to her. Ellen found that
George did not make the conversation all about himself, but more about
her. George would talk with her, not at her. A real friendship
blossomed as a result. Ellen was just coming off of a relationship with
a man who was very dominating and self-centered. George, was just the
opposite. Whenever they went anywhere or did anything, George always
made sure that it was something that Ellen wanted to do. He was a
perfect gentleman, again unlike her normal suitors. Which she found
charming, because from her experiences she was convinced if chivalry
wasn't dead it was on its last legs.
Ellen's friends were baffled at her choice of a boyfriend. She was
unable to articulate why she was attracted to this nerd. It was a
conundrum that mystified even Ellen.
That chance meeting led to a whirlwind romance. Over the course of
several months, they became a serious item. It took some prodding but
she eventually managed to bring him out of his shell socially. He kept
insisting he wasn't good enough for her. He chased her until she caught
him. In the end, she had to propose to him. They were married shortly
after graduation, George getting an entry level job as an accountant at
a local financial firm called Carlson Inc. They were able to buy a
small two-bedroom, one bath house in the suburbs of San Diego.
Against her better judgement, Ellen became a stay at home wife. With
only one income money was tight. The short-term plan was they would
quickly start a family. Alas, after years of trying it never managed to
happen. There was an emptiness in their marriage as a result. George
turned his energies to his work. Ellen tried volunteering and she tried
the wife's club scene. Both were unrewarding for her. There was just
something lacking in her life. He wasn't the manliest guy around; Ellen
knew that from the beginning. In the passion department, he left a lot
to be desired which was hard for Ellen to come to terms with. George
was a member of an endangered species, a virgin on his wedding night.
However, it wasn't until their honeymoon that she found that he was
truly a two-minute wonder. He had read the sex manuals and felt love
could be best accomplished by the numbers, insert tab A into slot B and
shake it all about.
It was a major change from her previous life style where sex was always
an adventure. She accepted that, because she truly loved him. She was
willing to put her needs aside because he was the kindest most genteel
man she had ever met.
@ @ @ @
She could hear the water running in the shower that brought her out of
her reverie. She was waiting patiently for him to finish his customary
bathing ablutions. Like most other anal-retentive personalities, George
was a slave to routine. Emptying his bladder first, then a shower
wetting his hair, soaping it with dander shampoo, lathering the rest of
his body working down from his face to his toes. Then and only then did
he rinse off. After toweling off, he went to the sink and shaved.
He made a big production out of it, more as a sign of machismo than
necessity. Being half native American he seldom needed to shave. Ellen
had often thought she could accomplish the same thing with a pair of
tweezers and do it in half the time. The same part of the gene pool
that prevented whiskers also gifted him with his mother's full head of
gorgeous dark hair. Not only did he have her hair, he also had some of
his deceased mother's softer features instead of the traditional
sharpness that his dead father's face displayed.
He was more a crewcut guy; Ellen had a bit of thing for men with long
hair. She insisted that he let it grow out. Marriages are a series of
compromises. She persuaded him to compromised and do it her way. She
remembers her father often. He had really bought into the whole hippie
lifestyle. Whenever she saw a man with long hair in a ponytail, she
flashed back to him. He was the epitome of manhood, in her mind. She
wanted George to be more like her father so she strongly encouraged him
to let his hair grow. It now touched his ears. In her mind it was a
start, but only a start.
Their current three-bedroom townhouse only had one bath so she had to
wait her turn. The builders had gone for a den/family room in lieu of
an extra bath. They were currently saving to add a half bath off the
den.
Her long brown hair was a fright of frazzled tangled ends. Something
that was going to take some time and effort to correct before she went
off to her new office. She had let herself go recently, something she
was regretting. With her starting her own business, she decided to try
and recapture her lost looks. The objective was to be appear more like
the sorority party animal Ellen Newman and less like the housewife Mrs.
Ellen Trousdale.
The phone rang, she rolled over on her left side and picked up the
receiver. It was George's asshole boss. She listened to the message
and promised to pass it along to her husband.
She yelled out trying to hurry up Ducky, his pet name. A moniker hung
on him by his older sister Beth; when he wore a yellow onesie with baby
ducks on it as a child. Now much to his embarrassment that nickname had
hung on and was used only by Beth and his wife.
Watching her seminude husband enter their bedroom, Ellen thought back to
their wedding night. How Ducky had so struggled to carry her across the
threshold. They were the same height; however, she would die before she
told anyone; but he actually weighed less than her on that night.
The fond memories of their wedding night still produced a tingle between
her legs. He was so cute. He had tried so hard to please her. It was
obvious he put her pleasure ahead of his own. A truly endearing trait.
From the very start, he had been self-conscious about the size of his
manhood, a result she suspected from him watching too many porno films,
where the women were always 38 DDs and the men all had fat 10-inch
dongs. In reality, his was about average. She knew because while the
president of her college sorority she had done considerable field
research on the subject. In retrospect she realized her social life in
college revolved around sex. As a child of the 70's she felt free to
experiment, as long as it was safe sex. Anything was open for
investigation as long as it felt good.
He fumbled his way through their first time. She had to resist the
temptation to just take charge at first and show him how it was done.
Thus, revealing her expertise on the subject. To ensure her own
gratification she took pity on him and little by little took the lead
for the rest of the honeymoon. The first few years of married life had
been exciting as Ellen assumed the role of bedroom sensei. Like in
everything else in his life, experimenting was scary. He was more
comfortable with the normal. Once he learned something, he was
determined to do it to the best of his ability.
Recently, the enthusiasm and creativity had gone completely out of their
love making. He was always tender and sweet, but Ellen longed for the
day when it could be just raw sex. Oh well she had made her bed and
would have to lay in it. It would take an extraordinary event before
she could justify cheating on her husband, no matter how much her body
needed a bout of wild no holds barred manly sex. Many a night she had
laid in bed trying to figure out a way to fill that need without
destroying her marriage. With George home every night, there was no way
she could risk having a dalliance no matter how tempting it seemed. In
the middle of the night, she subconsciously questioned if her
faithfulness was more a lack of opportunity than moral conviction.
Today, he walked out with a towel around his waist ensuring he kept his
back to her while he slipped on his tightie-whities. George was so
conservative in every facet of his life that he made Rush Limbaugh look
like a flaming liberal.
She critically examined his body. He had always been slim, almost
diminutive, in size for a man, narrow shoulders and small boned. Now
eight years of sitting at the same desk doing nothing more than
corporate taxes had taken their toll. Middle age sprawl had hit him
hard. The expression 'too big for his britches' was so apropos. He had
a good start of a paunch and the slightest signs of love handles.
Ellen couldn't be too critical, like her husband, she had also let
herself go. She was up two dress sizes in the last year alone. That
was going to change. She had tired of being nothing more than a
childless housewife. Cooking and cleaning had long ago lost its appeal.
She was going to put her degree in Interior Design to use. She had just
gotten a loan and signed a lease so she could open her own consulting
firm.
Being the typical man, he never listened to her suggestions that it was
time for a new wardrobe. As a result, the floor of his closet was
littered with rejected dress slacks, each too tight in the waist and
butt.
As he stood there contemplating his choices, Ellen spoke up, "Honey, I
have some bad and some good news. What do you want to hear first?""
Exasperated, George looked over his shoulder. "Alright, give me the bad
news."
"While you were in your shower, your boss, Leon, called. I took the
message. Tomorrow you need to take a bag with a change of clothes,
enough for three days with you to work. Rather than coming home he is
sending you on the night flight to Mexico City to do some work for a new
client."
"But I don't speak any Spanish!"
Ellen laughed sarcastically. "That's funny, here all this time I
thought you were an accountant. I didn't realize numbers were written
different in Spanish than English."
George gave Ellen what he hoped was an exasperated look. "I don't
understand! Mr. Brown usually takes this kind of trips himself or
recently sends Josh. There have been a lot of these out of country
trips recently. Leon seems to be expanding the company internationally.
"I still don't want to go. It will mean we will be apart, that's four
days. We have never been separated for that long since before our
wedding."
"Grow up George business travel is the norm these days. It could turn
out to be a blessing, with me just starting up my consulting firm, it
will give me time to concentrate on it and get it off the ground. With
you being gone I won't have to worry about neglecting you."
George sighed. "Alright, now give me the good news I could use some."
"I've lost 5 pounds. Isn't that fantastic!"
"Yeah just great," he said with less than real gusto.
@ @ @ @
That night George was restless. He was uncomfortable with new things.
He much preferred known schedules. He dreaded traveling and just the
thought of flying to a foreign country by himself terrorized him. It
had taken him hours to decide what to pack and to find his passport.
On the way home from work, he stopped for a large flask of hand
sanitizer and a bottle of ammonium AD just in case he got the runs.
Once home he was packing. As he closed and locked his bag, he noticed
his gold wedding band. For the first time since Ellen slipped it on his
finger, he took it off. He handed it to his wife.
She looked on puzzled. She knew he was not taking it off to be able to
fool around so she had to ask, "What's going on Ducky?"
George grimaced as he said, "Today I did some research on the internet.
Mexico City is a lawless, dangerous place. Crime is widespread because
of the rampant poverty and the drug trafficking. I don't want to take a
chance on losing this. So, hold it for me. Please! I will feel
better."
Her eyebrows were raised in surprise as she replied, "Of course, I will
but I think you are being a neurotic paranoid."
He shrugged. If he had to go into such a risky place, he wanted to make
sure that he had done everything he could to take care of his wife.
"I prefer to think of it as being cautious. Also, today before I left
work, I had a full power of attorney drawn up for you. It will be in
our safety deposit box along with my will. Just in case something bad
happens."
"Stop it, you are scaring me. Now come to bed. You will need your
rest." Ellen was sure that her husband was being a bit of a drama
queen, but she had to agree that bad things did happen to people who
were not careful. She had to trust that George would be okay. Right
now, the start of her business was on the top of her anxiety list.
That night they slept next to each other, after a quick goodnight kiss.
Things might have been different if they had known this would be their
last night sharing this bed as husband and wife.
Ellen drove George to work, dropping him off at the curb. He hauled his
suitcase out of the trunk, Ellen waved goodbye and drove off with him
standing on the curb with a sad puppy dog expression on his face. At
lunch, George found a bookstore and bought a Spanish-English dictionary.
He put in his normal 9-hour day and called a cab to take him to the
airport, getting there two hours early.
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