Anna’s Metamorphosis – Anna changed her lifestyle and regenerated her sex life.
Synopsis: This story starts with little mention of sex, but after describing the barren decades of Anna’s life, I reveal her many sexual encounters in explicit detail with a woman’s notions about those experiences. Writing in Anna’s voice, I describe her thoughts and reactions to life’s events that explain how she reached the age of fifty-six with so little sexual experience. When circumstances allowed her resurging desire for passion to change her life, the story focuses on Anna’s discovery of voyeurism and exhibitionism, which leads to seduction by her first post-marriage lover. Instead of ending there, she completes her rebirth, depicted in a series of sexual experiences with multiple partners that followed.
Note: To make chronological sense in this story, Anna’s move to Florida occurred in 2017.
© SandraMustard 2022
I spent my adolescence without real friends and unable to trust adults, including my parents. My paranoid behavior in high school led classmates to mock and shun me. During collegiate studies, emotional maturity helped me avoid outlandish reactions, but I chose to remain socially isolated. Somehow, I found a husband without normal dating but continued to live in seclusion because of his religious control of our married life.
I entered my marriage as a virgin bride at twenty-three and went through a three decade, nearly sexless marriage until I became a widow at fifty-four. After my husband’s passing, freedom to think for myself rewired my brain and I became a different person with profoundly changed attitudes and interests.
My sex life restarted soon after I moved to Miami when I had a dozen orgasms in one day with a much younger man I knew for only a few weeks. After that experience, I had sex with several other men, young and old, neighbors and friends, including a bisexual threesome with a woman and her husband.
Some encounters were impromptu, others developed over time. One of my partners offers a strange marriage arrangement. My issue with accepting his proposal despite continued sexual freedom is my marriage experience has made nuptials an abhorrent commitment.
Those who don’t know my whole story, probably think I am two different people. That’s the way I prefer it. I moved to another state to restart my social life and enjoy all that might happen as a result. This exposé describes what events formed and then transformed my life.
* * * * *
As a child, I was an athletic tomboy with coordinated motor skills and I loved to compete. I could run faster than everybody I played with. Skinny but wiry, I could jump high and climb trees. I could catch fearlessly, throw accurately with a snap of my wrist, and swing a bat with authority; but being undersized, my strength was my limitation.
I swam faster than my peers did, too; my slenderness seemed to be an advantage in the water. Fascinated by ballet, I took lessons for four years but my parents showed little interest and never saw me dance.
Puberty is when my life turned scary. A relative who was trusted to provide occasional oversight started acting strange. His initial attention flattered me but then I felt uncomfortable when I recognized from Baptist teachings that what he said suggested his intentions were inappropriate.
Looking for help to stop him, I told my mother. At first, she didn’t believe me, and then said I brought it on. When I became hysterical with frustration, she slapped my face. “Crying isn’t going to help. The prettier you are, the more you bring out the worst in men. You have to accept it. There is nothing you or I can do about it because we are women in a man’s world.”
She warned me that I should never tell my father because he would rail against her as well as me, rather than believe any wrongdoing by his brother. The realization that I was left to fend for myself devastated me the most. I began to see my parents for what they were, a misogynist and his slavish wife.
I felt helpless and alone, believing my primary defense was to hide my femininity from the world under uncomplimentary clothing. I even wished that I was ugly; my prettiness seemed to be a cross to bear. My personality went into hiding, too. I became a shell of my former self; I avoided the presence of male adults and stopped playing with boys. I even gave up ballet lessons over clothing issues, but continued dancing privately in my bedroom.
Neither threats nor locked doors discouraged my uncle’s attempts to cajole me as I spent a hellish year hiding when he was present. One day he became belligerent and when he cornered me, I feared he was going to get physical. I kicked his knee as hard as I could and ran out as he was writhing on the floor. I hid in the garage for hours and didn’t see when he left.
He needed weeks to heal and more than a year to walk without a limp. I don’t know what story he gave the rest of the family because they didn’t speak about his injury or infer that I might have had anything to do with it. My father deemed me old enough to be home alone about that time, eliminating future situations. Even though my uncle stayed away from me, I feared repercussions.
* * * * *
The damage to my psyche ruined my adolescent social life, leaving me apprehensive of everyone’s intentions and lacking confidence in my safety because I remained undersized. Throughout my high school years, I kept myself isolated. I did not date or socialize in mixed company and earned honor grades without being pretentious in class. Even in the company of girls, I was standoffish with an icy reputation; my nickname was ‘Iceberg.’
I found purpose and a sense of achievement in high school athletics but gained little respect. Teammates ostracized me despite my dominant performances at track and swim meets. I wasn’t just a virgin when I graduated high school; I hadn’t been kissed.
College started my social recovery. Commuting to local community college classes in Charlotte, North Carolina saved me from dorm social life. Even so, I was interacting with a different student population, which meant a number of young men responded to my appearance. A few louts asked me to sleep with them right off; the decent ones at least expressed an interest in being suitors. I turned everyone down.
My studies focused on business administration and performing arts. With my interest in dancing, I took scholastic and private lessons in formal dancing and adult ballet for the enjoyment that it brought me. I wasn’t sure I could make a living as a ballerina but I had dreams that someday dancing would be part of my career. Still vexed by insecurities about my appearance, I always wore loose sweats while most women practiced in airy dresses or tutus.
In ballet, most moves are individualistic expressions but a ballerina’s complete repertoire requires dancing pas de deux. The first two men that danced with me in practice sessions asked about my attire and my social status rather than talk about anything involving dancing. Their size and strength intimidated me and their interests disappointed me.