I'm ideally looking to dive right in from my prompt idea below - reddit PM only. It might only be a short term idea, but I'm still looking for a good level of detail and length to really make this work. I want to know just what your character is feeling for all of this. Mostly, vanilla plus.

I'm looking for your character to be ideally between sort of 35 to 50 years of age, give or take a few years.

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You really didn't know what had come over you over the last month. Everything had been so clear and so easy up until now. You had a great man around you. A couple of kids. A nice enough house, and a job by you, and him that'd keep you going for the rest of yours, and then some. In many people's ideas, the perfect life.

But whether or not it was because the previous several times a week sex you had with your partner which had simply dried up due to unrelated reasons, or just that later life curiosity and need, you'd started craving something more. A physical need. No matter what you were doing; getting dressed. Making breakfast. Cleaning the house, driving to work. You just couldn't shake the feeling that you wanted a woman. But you'd never wanted a woman before. You could appreciate a woman who was good looking, but the thought of jumping into bed with one had never been even a fleeting thought. But now that'd become all you thought about. It had started as just a mere curiosity. What would it feel like to flirt with one? Then a few days later, what if I were to kiss one? How soft would her lips be? Would I want more?

Then a few days later, you craved the feeling of undressing a woman. To unzip her clothes, to get close to her, to feel everything she had, and then you wanted to fuck one. And over the last few weeks, that's become a borderline obsession. Just one night to absolutely screw another woman, and be screwed senseless by a woman. You hadn't quite decided whether you'd want her to play with you, seduce you. Wine and dine you, perhaps, before giving herself to you. Or whether you wanted to just... dance and fuck, maybe? Or would be just a transaction? Part of you wanted to fall ever so slightly in love with her before you did it. But you knew you wanted to have some deeply, deeply passionate sex with a woman.

And it had taken you all month to set this up, and finally go behind his back. You didn't want to ask yours or his friends for it, and you didn't want to hire some prostitute from the streets for it, that just wouldn't be what you were after. But when you managed to match up with a woman of twenty one on tinder, pretty much half your age, you raised the idea of hooking up, to which that younger woman, myself, was more than willing to indulge you. I'm a switch, and more than willing to satisfy every craving you might have.

And tonight, you'd gotten the house entirely to yourself. Your husband? At an Autumn ball with his work, and staying at a hotel several towns over, booked through work. Your son? He was out on a date, and crashing at his girlfriends tonight. Your daughter was on an educational trip on the other end of the country, leaving you well and truly alone, with a guarantee of at least 24 hours to absolutely let loose.

So now, you're dressed, ready, and both excited and aroused to meet the younger, blonde chick, Maddie, who'd been oh so keen on giving you a good time tonight. I'd asked you to dress up as classy and attractive as you always thought you could, and I'd do exactly the same. So when you opened the front door, and are confronted with this 21 year old chick who promised to rock your world, the excitement absolutely peaks.

At 5'8, I was decently tall for a girl. I had just a couple of extra pounds, but was far from overweight, holding that slight extra in my slightly wider hips. A pair of D cups were neatly clasped in a loose and floaty, bright white, flowery vest top, with white, criss-crossing straps over the top of my breast, running up to my neckline. A short, pleated white skirt with a gently, gold trim around the floaty hem showed off my slightly thicker thighs and legs, concealed under a pair of silky soft, nude tights. On my feet, bright white, leather ballerina flats with the sides lowered and almond toes. A gold buckled ankle strap clasps my ankles tightly. And my face was absolutely made up, with my eyes immaculately groomed into a cateye around my green eyes, the foundation highlighting my slightly fuller cheeks with a blush. I eagerly tiptoe with my right foot, and give you a wink, turning over an ice cold bottle of champagne in my dark blue nailed hands.

"Evening sweetie. I hear we've got an entire night to kill..." I tell you softly, as though I'd been waiting for this rendevous for years.