I suppose you need a bit of background on me first, to set the scene as it were. My name is Sarah Matthews having married (can you believe it) Matthew Matthews some 10 years ago. To this day I can't believe anyone could give their son a name like that, but his parents - who are perfectly nice and sensible - didn't seem to think it was odd. Maybe it's me that's odd. My maiden name is Clarke, so when I'm relating experiences that happened before I met Matt you might find me or others referring to me as Sarah Clarke.



I was born and brought up in Northumberland - a windswept county in the North East of England at a time when lots of new housing estates were being built in villages and everyone with middle class pretensions would buy a newly built home on an development and move out of Newcastle or its suburbs in order to prove they were on their way up in life. It made for a lot of interesting times - people thrown together from different backgrounds and that. Anyway, I'm rambling and Matt is always telling me off for that so I better get on with it.



Today - in August 2008 - I'm 48, happily married, and have 2 smashing grown up sons from a previous long term relationship before I met Matt and two inherited stepdaughters in their late teens that came with hubby. I have a little part time job helping out in a friend's shop selling clothes to students and the like, and I'm generally considered the doting wife and mother.



I suppose I'd be described as matronly now - but back when I was a teenager I was slim and had a lot of attention from the boys. I didn't like the peasant look that was fashionable at the time; instead I preferred shorter skirts and tighter tops which might have explained some of the interest. A throwback to the 1960's my mum would say. I'm 5'5" tall and then I weighed a trim 110lbs or so and had quite perky 32b boobs. I wore my ash blonde hair quite long and like a lot of us then my look was a bit of a "Farrah Fawcett Do" with gallons of hairspray and the trademark flick backs.



Nowadays, and after 2 kids, I'm bigger all over and I'm ashamed to say I'm now 155lbs and wear a 38c bra. Unfortunately I haven't become 5'11" since 1978 so I'm overweight for my height. The events I'm going to tell you about here have shaped the rest of my life. Yes - I have secrets - many of them - but it's time some were shared.



My husband has no knowledge of these secrets and I'm counting on him being truthful when he tells me he doesn't have time to read things on the internet. If he is telling then truth then he should remain blissfully ignorant. I toyed with the idea of using a pseudonym and changing the locations to make it impossible for anyone to guess who I am, but I didn't like writing like that so I'm taking a risk and being open. Time will tell if I get caught out or not.



I'm starting my series of "confessions" with my first real sexual awakening - so I'm going back 30 years to my dim and distant past - when I was 18 and doing A levels in my last year in the sixth form at the local Grammar School . This all happened before I met David (my long term partner and father to my boys) in my last year at University. I'm not intending to make my stories here a strict chronological diary - I'm happy to jump forward and back in time as the mood demands - but to start off it seems right to begin at the beginning.



This is basically a true story but I've changed the names of the other participants (not mine) as I know for a fact that at least two of the people involved are still alive and well (or at least they were in July 2008) and I don't want to cause any fuss for anyone. This story deals with what happened one Friday evening in December 1978.



My best friend at that time was called Karen Dodson. We'd been friends since we were 8 and went to the same schools until we opted for different universities in 1979. Karen's mum and dad lived in one of the new developments in a small village next to the River Tyne and I'd always got on well with them. Her mum is Frances and her dad is Alec. Alec was always friendly – but never overly friendly if that's what you're wondering - and a nice man. He worked hard all week and then went off to the golf course at weekends. Frances could be quite overbearing at times so we always used to understand why he escaped to the golf course at every opportunity.



Frances was a typical "wannabe" middle class wife (not sure the word "wannabe" was used back then but it's quite an appropriate way to describe her) and she was from a working class area just outside of Newcastle. She'd worked hard (or at least had made Alec work hard) to obtain the middle class veneer of material trappings and was totally immersed in the "what would the neighbours say" mentality. She was always very concerned with how she looked - watching what she ate, going to keep fit class twice a week and with hair that was so black it could only have come from a bottle. I last saw her at the beginning of 2008 and she still had jet black hair even at the age of 75 so there's no doubt it was chemically assisted even then. Frances was always immaculately made up and you never saw her with a hair out of place. She was slightly taller than me - probably 5'6" or so and keeping the weight off nicely. I'd say that then she was probably about 120lbs with boobs smaller than mine - an A cup.



I knew she wore padded bras as we'd had a discussion about them previously when I was complaining I wanted bigger boobs and she told me her secret. I never saw her in jeans - always skirts and a nice blouse even at home. I liked her though - she was a pain sometimes about tidiness and that, but she was kind too and always chatted to me like I was an equal when I was there. I think it's fair to say we were all a little scared of her even if we did make jokes behind her back about her obsession with appearances.



Two houses along from Frances and Alec there was an older married couple, Bill and June Sanders. I say older - Frances would have been 45 then and June and Bill were early 50's so not much between them, but a hell of an age difference between them and me. Bill and June had not been able to have kids and so they treated Karen and her younger sister Julie as their own, and spoiled them rotten with gifts on birthdays etc. June was an elegant slim blonde who had the money to spend on the best clothes and makeup - she was always smart and looked very sophisticated. I think Frances was a little in awe of her and we laughed over how little time it used to take for Frances to buy something for her house if June had just acquired the same thing for hers. June was taller than Frances - probably 5'8" and with bigger boobs. She must have been a 34c.



Frances had a wide circle of friends - one of whom I knew quite well having gone out with her son Gerry for a while a few months previously. It was a typical early romance - I wanted someone to cherish me and eventually propose to me and he wanted sex. We broke up when I stuck to my guns about my definition of romance compared to his. Gerry's mum - well step-mum actually - was Vicky Price and was younger than Frances by about 10 years, so then she would have been 35. She was married to Bob Price who was quite good looking I always thought, probably better looking than Gerry in fact.



Vicky was a very attractive brunette with full lips and sexy green eyes, all framed by soft shoulder length curls. She was slightly overweight with big breasts and was definitely what you would call voluptuous. Carrying a few extra pounds suited her and she dressed to show off her assets. She was usually to be seen in tight tops and little skirts and lots of glossy lipstick. She was about my height at 5'4" and must have weighed 140lbs most of which seemed to have congregated in her boobs and bum. She was 38d and definitely didn't need a padded bra! From the way the lads our age talked about her when Gerry wasn't around it was clear she had many admirers. If we'd had the expression back then she would have definitely been a "MILF".



On the night this all happened I needed to get some books back that Karen had borrowed for an A level project - only problem was that Karen had gone out to a house party with her new boyfriend several miles away and wasn't expected back until Saturday morning as they were staying over. I decided to phone her home anyway hoping that if someone was in I could drop by and pick them up. I'd only passed my driving test a month before (at the third attempt) so I was taking every opportunity to borrow dad's car, and even though it was only a 10 minute drive I wanted the practice. Frances answered the phone and we chatted for a while as I explained what the problem was.



She said that of course I could come over and added that she was annoyed Karen hadn't given them back to me yet. She was the sort of woman who always let you know when she was annoyed about something (and lots of things seemed to annoy her) which may help explain why we'd always been a little scared of her.



She went on to explain that Alec was at a golf dinner and wouldn't be back until after 11pm and that Julie had gone to visit her Grandma for the weekend. She then said she was having some friends over for drinks and mentioned June and Vicky. I asked how Vicky was - I hadn't seen her since Gerry and I had split up and I had always enjoyed chatting to her when I visited Gerry. I'd even popped by a few times when he was at the football with his Dad for a cup of coffee and a chat.



Frances asked me why I wasn't going to the party with Karen and I explained how I intended to go but the boy I was supposed to go with had dumped me the day before and I didn't want to run into him there. She was very sympathetic (even though I really wasn't that bothered - he was a real idiot as I recall and I'd only been out with him a few times). She then told me her and the "girls" ("girls"? more like "old ladies" I thought to myself) were going to have a few drinks and a laugh as they had the house to themselves for once. She then said I was more than welcome to join them if I felt like it.



I hesitated, because I immediately thought that a night sitting around drinking crappy wine while Frances and June complained about the price of bread , how kids today had no manners and how much Christmas was going to cost sounded like my worst nightmare. Then I remembered Vicky was going, that she was always good fun, and that the only alternative was to spend a Friday night alone in my room having just been dumped. So the polite refusal I was formulating was quickly replaced by a "Yes – thanks, that's really kind. I'll be there about 7pm then"



I had a quick think and decided that for a few drinks with the perfectly dressed Frances and her friends I should make an effort with my clothes. I ditched the original jeans and sweatshirt I'd thrown on when I got home and put on a denim mini skirt, zip up knee length black leather boots and black tights (yes I know - but they were all the rage then). I chose a red polyester blouse that I thought looked very chic and put that on over a black bra. I told my dad I wanted the car but when I told him I was going to have some wine at Karen's he refused to let me borrow it and he ended up giving me a lift.



I managed to persuade him to give me some money for a taxi home and I worked out I'd done pretty well on the deal as he gave me way too much. I was planning on keeping the change so I could buy the new live Donna Summer LP I'd been after. For my younger readers this is how we old folk got our music back then – the LP existed way before the invention of the CD.



I waved my dad off, walked to the front door and rang the bell. Frances answered it and invited me in. She looked very different to normal, and, I had to admit to myself, quite nice. Instead of her usual skirt and blouse she was wearing a kaftan. It was black and came down to just below her knees and was really quite sheer. I remember the delicate gold motif that edged the V-neck and also noticed that it was quite low cut and quite unlike the clothes she normally wore. What wasn't different was her hair and makeup - as always not a particle out of place. I stole a quick look down and saw she had on a pair of black mule slippers trimmed in black fur - with her toenails painted a deep burgundy to match her fingernails and I remember thinking I liked that look.



I was first one to arrive so she got me a drink and we sat chatting about this and that. I explained that I had wanted to drive over but dad said no and that I would get a taxi home later. I was babbling a bit as I was a little nervous to be honest and felt a little out of place. She said that if she'd known I wasn't driving she would have called Vicky to pick me up on the way as she passed right by my road.



About 5 minutes later the door opened (in that part of the world neighbours just popped in without knocking if they were expected) and June came in. I didn't quite understand why but she was wearing a kaftan too. Hers was a yellow one with bold brown splodges of pattern in a light cotton material, the same length and low cut like Frances'. She looked amazing in it and I noticed that she too was in "casual" mode with regards footwear - her mules were in a leopard print though and to me they looked quite exotic. Her nails were a bright scarlet and matched her lipstick.



We chatted a bit more about the cold weather and the like and then the door opened again and in bowled Vicky. She was in her normal going out gear: a leather mini skirt; knee length leather boots like mine and a black halter top which was so low cut you could see the tops of her bra cups. I noticed she'd gone for a red bra tonight. I'd been at her house with Gerry a few times on a Friday night when she was getting ready for a night out and this was like her uniform. I thought to myself that at least she was being her usual self and I started to feel less like I had wandered into an up-market hippy convention.



Vicky seemed pleased to see me and I actually got a hug from her. Frances explained I'd been let down and that I was joining them for a drink.



Vicky gave me a slightly concerned look and said "Are you sure Fran"



Frances just said "Yes, it'll be fine, don't worry we can always get her a taxi if we need to".



I didn't know what they were talking about so I just kept quiet. Frances got up and locked the front door and put the security chain on, which at the time struck me as unusual given how we usually just walked in but it wasn't my house so I dismissed the thought. After she locked the door she looked over at me and said



"Sarah if you want a taxi at any time just let me know and I'll call Derek"



Derek was a man in the village who ran a little mini cab firm so I knew I'd be OK for a taxi at short notice if I wanted to go home. I nodded OK but almost immediately got one of many surprises that evening.



Vicky got her cigarettes out and offered one to June. In those days smoking in other people's houses was just normal and almost expected; you didn't ask permission, you just lit up even if the house owner was a non smoker. I knew June smoked but when she said to Frances "Here you are Fran" and handed her a pack of Benson & Hedges I was actually a bit shocked. I had no idea Frances smoked and said so. She just laughed and winked at me and said "When it's just us girls I sometimes let my hair down".



Then Frances shocked me even more by saying as she lit her cigarette "Go on Sarah take one - I know you'd like one too"



I tried to protest that I didn't smoke (even though I did) and she just said "Come on don't be boring- I won't tell your Mum".



She came over to me and lit another cigarette in her mouth and then reached out and actually put it between my lips. She looked right in my eyes as she did it and I suddenly felt a bolt of electricity flow between us. I couldn't understand it, but it felt to me like it was a sexual feeling.



I had no idea where it came from and I was totally confused. I had never considered another female sexually at that time, not even when we'd had our girlie sleepovers and there were lots of semi naked girls in the same room as me. I wasn't naive about it - I just liked boys and had never paid any attention on the odd occasion that I'd seen a couple of girls kissing at a party. So that bolt of electricity really was out of the blue.



I was taken aback at what I'd just felt and I rationalised it was just the shock of her offering me a cigarette that I was feeling rather than anything else. Plus the fact that it was straight laced Frances - Karen's mum - made it even more unlikely that it was a sexually charged sensation so I mentally shrugged my shoulders and focussed back on the chat, trying to join in when I could.



The wine I was drinking was starting to relax me and being able to smoke with adults and not worrying about getting caught by my dad was a bit of a buzz. After a while I realised that they were talking and laughing and including me in their conversation and I was starting to feel like I was slowly becoming part of their group. I liked the feeling - a "mature" sort of feeling if you know what I mean, not being treated as "daughter's friend", but more like an equal participant in the conversations.



After a couple of refills I was aware that the alcohol was loosening tongues and there was a lot more giggling than before. We'd stopped talking about the new boutique that had just opened up in Hexham and I realised that Frances was now talking about a woman in the local pub. She was saying that she had gone to pick Alec up from the pub a couple of nights ago after a darts match and she'd been introduced to Susan - a new member of the female darts team.



This wasn't the bit that got my attention - it was what she said next:



"I tell you she has the biggest tits I've seen for a long time - even bigger than you Vick..."



Vicky laughed and said "Well we know how much you like big tits Fran"



I thought I must have been hearing things and that even if I had heard right that Karen's mum would be aghast at that and make a fuss. Instead all that happened was that Frances laughed and June said "You can say that again!"



Frances suddenly looked over at me. Again I felt a strange sensation as her eyes met mine and this time I knew it wasn't from being offered a cigarette. She smiled and said to me



"Sarah it's up to you. I can call Derek and get a taxi for you now so you can go home and study or you can stay here, relax and enjoy yourself. But I should warn you that we talk about all sorts in here and we may shock you so I'll understand if you want to go now"



I remember feeling a little like I was a rabbit caught in the headlights of an oncoming car; as I looked up they were all watching me intently. I reckoned that the sensible thing to do would be to finish my drink and then go and leave them to their evening, so I decided I'd ask her to call Derek and arrange a taxi for me. Or I thought that was what I'd decided.



The actual words that came out were "I'm fine. I'm enjoying myself and I'd love to stay and hear more. Can I have another drink and a cigarette please?"



I remember that I was blushing as I said it – both from the implication that I wanted to hear more about Susan and from my boldness in asking for a drink and a cigarette.



Frances just said "I was hoping you'd say that" and suddenly I felt the whole mood relax even more.



Vicky got up, refilled our drinks and then came and sat beside me on the smaller couch in the room so that she and I were together and June and Frances were together on the other couch. She lit a cigarette for us both and just whispered right in my ear "Just relax, we all need to let our hair down now and again"



And then - more loudly "So come on Fran - tell us all about sexy Susan"

