chrislebo
Member
Posts: 168016
|
Even beyond the fact that I was being touched intimately by a woman, and by a black permister for the first time, there was something aesthetically very appealing about her skin on mine. It took almost no imagination to make the leap of visualizing my naked pink pussy being spread by a thick black cock... And then I had no time for imagination, because Pet put me in motion. She surrounded me with her arms and pushed me back with her body. Two steps and I felt the table against the back of my thighs; I put my butt on it and she followed, pressing me over onto my back as she straddled me. In just a few moments I was lying down with my legs over the end of the table and she was above me, knees on either side of my waist, her perfect breasts hanging down almost to mine as she leaned in to kiss me. And this time when I felt a woman's lips on mine I didn't even think of wavering – this was what I was here for, and I was going to revel in every second of it. Our tongues met between our lips, and the kiss started out soft and easy because that was the way Petra wanted it. Tip on tip, our tongues moved together slowly, and after a moment I found myself sighing into her mouth. This was it – for the first time since my brief affair years before, I was with someone other than my husband because I wanted to be, of my own volition; and whereas I had felt years of guilt from that previous dalliance, I knew I would feel no guilt whatever from this one. Tim was still my husband and I still loved him, but he had no further claim on my body. From now on when I wanted someone else, man or woman – or maybe even dog – I would take them. It was that simple. I remember when she lowered herself onto me and we lay, length on length, warmth on warmth, mouth on mouth. Her hands were on my flanks, caressing my ribs and my hips, and after a moment I moved my hands as well. At first they came to rest on the backs of her shoulders, my touch gentle, but it didn't take long for them to begin to drift down across her curved back to her tiny waist and then further, onto her ass. Oh God, Pet has an ass to ******* for. I'm not ashamed of mine, especially for being in my middle 30s, but Pet's... Pet's ass is one for the ages. Her figure is the sort that you can't have once gravity starts to get hold of you – broad shoulders, big firm tits, a waist you could almost encircle with two hands, and a big, bodacious ass that any man would love to hold onto while taking her from behind. It was the sort of ass that would look good in a skirt or pants that were tight or loose, clothed or naked. It was firm and hot and I loved the way it felt when I squeezed it and pulled her pelvis down against mine. Quickly enough our kissing stopped being soft and exploratory and became something altogether more urgent. I don't think either one of us was in the mood to pussyfoot around for long, pardon the bad pun – she was hotter for me than I was for her, and I was plenty hot. Her lips were on mine hard and I was taking the air right out of her lungs, just like she was taking mine. Our nipples were hard, mine against hers, and my hand crept over her ass and stroked her shaved lips at almost the exact same moment that hers went between our bodies and found mine. I could feel her grin through her kiss as she slipped her middle finger deep into me, and I followed her lead. It was the third pussy I had ever fingered, my own included, and it was getting so that I was getting used to the feel. I didn't think I'd ever love it as deeply and instinctively as I loved putting my fingers around a hard, thick cock, but there was no doubt in my mind that I could get to like it easily enough. It didn't take long for us to start fucking each other pretty good, pumping each other nice and deep. Her pussy was tight and wet and it clasped hard on me as I pushed into it, and sucked hard at me as I pulled back, and the feeling was addictive. It was no wonder, I thought, that men went bananas for pussy if they were all as nice as Petra's and Brandy's; it was soft and yielding, warm and moist and inviting, a pleasure to touch just as Brandy's was. It felt smooth on the inside and yet gently rippled, and I knew that those little dips and variations of flesh that felt so innocuous as I pumped my fingers – two of them now – in and out of her body were what kept men drooling to get their cocks into women. I know it sounds terribly mundane, as though I was amazed to discover that the sun is bright, but there's a difference between intellectually knowing a fact like that and having visceral experience with it. I didn't have a cock and I could never know what wonders they gave to men, but now I could imagine the tremble in David's limbs as he pushed himself into some neighborhood housewife and thought of me – I stopped myself from thinking about David. I was still fiercely pissed at him – he had betrayed me and been unapologetic, telling me that I had been a fool to trust him. And I HAD been, I knew... but I had wanted to trust him, after what he had said and how he had made me feel. I had wanted to give myself to him. I had wanted to cross that enormous boundary and *** a taboo that was even bigger, to me, than fucking a dog. I had eagerly sucked his cock, and if he had just left things there then I would have eagerly sucked his cock the next day and the day after, and I wouldn't have put up a fight when he finally took me to bed and shattered the last taboo. But he had thrown that away, deliberately and cold rededly, and now he was going to have to pay the price for that by having to drag me kicking and screaming every step of the way from now on. That he would do so I had no doubt, but I would leave scars. But fuck David. Fuck him all to hell. He wasn't here and I what I was doing now had nothing whatsoever to do with him. I was doing this because it was something I hadn't allowed myself to even want in the past, and because I deserved to push back all the boundaries that had kept me a hemmed-in little hausfrau all these years. I was doing it to break free. And suddenly I wanted to suck pussy. I mean I honestly, truly wanted to suck pussy, not just for the fact of knocking down a barrier but because I knew it would taste good and feel good on my mouth, and because I wanted to make Petra cum on my tongue, writhing and gasping and moaning my name. I wanted sex with her for the sake of sex with her, not because it would mean anything but simply because it would feel good. And so I pulled my mouth away from hers (with some difficulty) and whispered, "I want to lick you, Petra..." She smiled like a tiger and whispered back, "You do?" "Yes, I do. I really do." "Well maybe I want to do the same to you first." She put a kiss on my nose and ran her tongue along my cheek. "What do you think about that?" "Will you make me cum?" "I'll make you scream." I swallowed hard. "Please make me scream, Petra." Her mouth was around my right nipple then, sucking it in and rolling her tongue over it. I noted in an abstract sort of way that her technique was different from Brandy's; Brandy was soft and gentle, even when she used her teeth on my breasts. Pet wasn't. Pet was hard, driving, and even though what she did to me felt amazing and perfect, I knew immediately that she would push me to my limits. She would make me dance the line between pain and pleasure and teach me how much of one I could take before it became the other. In normal times the idea might have at least intimidated me, but now I surrendered myself to it completely. I would go where Pet took me. She didn't linger all that long on my breasts; she was too eager to get between my legs. And so when she began to kiss her way down my stomach I just braced myself and spread my thighs, my eyes closed and my hands ready to grip the sides of the table. I still remember the instant I first felt a woman's breath hot and close on the wet folds of my sex and knew that her lips would soon follow. It occurred to me then that I was leaving something inside me behind here, that I would be changed by this just as certainly as I had been changed by the evening with Charlie and David, but I knew instinctively that I couldn't both stay what I was and become what I had to be. Something had to give, the old skin had to peel away, the old me had to die before the new me could be born. What would the new me be like? There was only one way to find out. 
|
chrislebo
Member
Posts: 168016
|
I know most men don't like to think about how... well, not to gross you out, I'll just use the word biological again – how biological women's bodies, and especially our genitals, can be. That one little area is used for a lot of different things and sees a lot of traffic, and it produces a lot of different aromas and, um, fluids. To a man it's a hole to fuck, but as I was looking between Petra's legs I saw what I had, the same thing but in a different color (and younger than mine, to be sure) and it was a very powerful experience to know that I was about to give pleasure to the same sorts of nerves as I had. I put my mouth on her. Her skin was soft and smooth, obviously freshly shaved or waxed. Her labia yielded to the pressure of my lips and I felt her inner folds against my mouth. It was official: I was going down on a woman. I let my mouth rest against her for a second, just feeling it, experiencing it, lips closed, breathing her in and rolling over the sensation of a pussy against my face. And then, gently, I parted my lips, put out my tongue, and began to lick her. Her lips parted before even the softest of pressure and I tasted, for the first time, another woman's sex. I guess the easiest thing it to say it tasted like it smelled, but that's not a fair description. I immediately knew it wasn't a taste I would ever love in the same deep, vibrant way I loved semen, but I also knew that it wasn't offensive in the least. Even if I wouldn't long for it, I knew that I could, and would, get used to it with very little effort. I knew that I could, and would, put my mouth on another woman if the mood struck me or the woman bewitched me, and I wouldn't hesitate a moment to do so. Women... and, as I recalled the idea Pet had put in my head of Laurel's friends, maybe girls too. It was a savory taste, strong but not unpleasant, female like nothing else could ever be, perhaps just a little tangy and salty and maybe even just a hint of metallic at the very edge of my taste buds. It was a human taste, not similar to a man's taste in any way but, at the same time, identical to it: it was the taste of arousal, of desire, of need, and soon enough it would be the taste of a lover's release, earned as it flowed over my tongue. "Mmm, that's it girl," Petra told me. "Just slow and easy. Take your time and don't rush." I did as I was told and licked her in one long, slow swipe from the very base of her twat where she opened into her vagina and up, between her lips, tasting her and feeling her and smelling her, until I came to her clit. It was hard and peering out from its little hood, perfect and pink and as sweet and innocent looking as a little girl in pigtails. I was gentle as I put my lips on it, surrounding it, and gave it a soft kiss. My lips parted and my tongue flicked over it, just for an instant, just the tip. "Slow, girl, slow," she whispered. "Lick my pussy for a while..." I was more than willing to take guidance, not just because this was my first time doing this but also because I wanted Petra to cum like she'd made me cum. I knew I couldn't do with my teeth what she'd done (I was so inexperienced I'd draw red if I tried) and I didn't have enough experience with getting my pussy licked to know exactly what I liked, so anything she could tell me was welcome. I lowered my mouth to her opening and put my lips on it; I could feel her vagina open before me like it wanted me inside it. My tongue moved inside tentatively and instantly I was in a world of Petra's flavor, of her juices, of her sex. I didn't really think then, I just started to do what felt natural to me: I began to lick, pushing my tongue in as deeply as it could go and then pulling back, up and down, in and out. She was wet when I began but she rapidly got wetter and in a few moments she was flowing into my mouth. I was enough of a naïf that I didn't realize yet how different women get wet in different amounts and that Petra was a flooder; all I knew was that there was more juice than I could lick up, and with every lick I made more. The oddness and unfamiliarity of it faded almost immediately and I became comfortable with what I was doing, just licking deep, feeling her pelvis hard against my cheeks and my chin, her softness and fragrance wonderful to me. I looked up and saw her smiling down at me, and I smiled with my eyes. "God you look good eating pussy, slut," she told me, running a hand along my hair. "Your pretty white face stuck in my black cunt! I wish your boyfriend was watching us – no, fuck that, I wish your husband was watching us so he could see what a good cuntlicker his wife is!" I laughed into her body. Tim's skull would pop if he saw me this way, naked and on my knees, eating out a young black woman in the back room of a sleazy lingerie store! Then again, I thought, maybe it would finally stir his cock into life. Who knew? And at this point, who cared? He didn't want me for the sex I needed, so I would get it somewhere else. And right now I was getting it from Petra. What could be complicated about that? "All right, now lick up to my clit. Be slow...be gentle..." She sighed as I did just what she told me. "That's it. Put your fingers into me. Two at first, get me loosened up, and then give me three. Yeah... yeah that's it... suck my clit real gentle, real soft... mmmm... pump my pussy..yeah... yeah that's it..." She was clamping down on my fingers, squeezing them as I fucked her hot little hole, and she was lifting her clit against my mouth. I didn't know much about making women happy at this point but I knew enough to know I was doing it for her, and I knew enough to know I was going to make her cum. I felt absolutely fantastic, strong and powerful and clever. I loved that feeling. "Harder now... fuck me good, fuck me nice and hard...squeeze on my clit a little with your lips, not too much... tongue it..." She was humping against my face and my hand now, her pussy spasming on my hand, and I knew the signs of an impending orgasm when I saw one. I didn't fool myself into thinking it was my consummate s******* at cunnilingus that had brought her to this place so much as the fact that she had a straight suburban Suzy Homemaker worshipping her cunt, but I was doing my best and learning with every motion of my fingers and every lap of my tongue. "I'm almost there, honey," she told me. We had found each other's rhythm (it took me a bit, honestly, because I was still clumsy, but I finally got it) and she was fucking my fingers just as much as they were fucking her, just as she was rubbing her clit on my lips and tongue just as much as I was sucking it. But that's how good sex always is, isn't it? I watched her face, her big eyes scrunched tightly shut and her lower lip caught between her teeth, and I loved the passion, the need, and the rapture I had put there. I loved making love to her. "Gonna cum... keep going... gonna cum... gonna ...gonna..." And then she did. I didn't make her scream my name the way I wanted to, but I did make her suck in air and gasp adorably at the same time like she was springing a leak (a very sweet, lovable sound), I made her whole body shake (her tits vibrated mesmerizingly, quaking and rolling with every quiver in her body) and I made her thrust her pussy into my face and yank me into her by my hair (I admit I panicked a bit at the sudden, hard movement and the pain from my scalp, but I kept doing what I was doing so it worked out in the end). I mouth-rode that clit and pumped her cunt as she held herself stiff against me – and then she dropped, limp and spent, to the table, smiling and panting and sweaty. I had done it. I had made a woman cum with my mouth. I felt like the Queen of America. After a few moments she pulled me up into her arms and we lay together on the table, naked, skin on skin and earned sweat on earned sweat, tangled up with each other. I was grinning, and she looked at me knowingly. I was a little shy as I asked, "Did I do OK for a first time?" 
|
chrislebo
Member
Posts: 168016
|
"Oh hell yeah," she laughed and put a kiss on my lips. "You made me pop, and that's what it's about." "I didn't really know what I was doing. I don't have a lot of experience even on the receiving end..." "Do you want more?" I nodded. "I do... receiving and giving. I liked it." "I can take you places," Petra told me, looking into my eyes to gauge my reaction. "Places where they don't let me in the door, where they don't even let women in the door unless they're looking to fuck other women. Do you want to go to places like that?" I paused. "Like...in front of everyone?" She laughed. "WITH everyone." "Oh...I'm not sure I'm ready for that yet," I told her. "I mean I like the idea, but I want to... get more comfortable with it, I guess." "More one on one?" she asked. I nodded, and she smiled. "Well whenever you want, I'll get with you. If you don't mind letting Brandy come, we could have lots of fun together." I smiled back, surprised at how shy I was feeling. "I think Brandy would be all right. I know her and...and I want to do to her what I did to you. I think it would be good." "I know she'll like it," Pet told me, and that was the last we talked for a while. We lay in each other's arms, cuddling and kissing and looking into each other's eyes, stroking each other's skin, moving our limbs against each other. I was just about to suggest Round 2 when there came a knock on the door and Brandy poked her head in. She grinned huge when she was us tangled up like we were and said, "Hey Pet, I hate to interrupt but I'm swamped. Can you help out?" "Be there in a minute," Petra said, then looked back at me and said ruefully, "Duty calls, or some cuckolds brownie like that." I chuckled and smacked her ass. "Well you leave me wanting more, and that's a good thing. I'll help you get dressed." I did, and after a session in the bathroom to adjust my makeup and hair I joined the other customers out front. I picked up some more clothes – more underwear, a couple more skirts and dresses, a few cute tops, all very sexy and ranging from sort of classy to outright trashy. Pet and Brandy copped feels off me when they could do so without getting noticed and I did the same to them, giggling as I did. I felt playfully naughty, like a schoolgirl secretly acting up in class and half- hoping she got spotted by the cute boy. I didn't have time to get either Petra or Brandy alone, but I did get both their phone numbers before I left. I walked out of there with my head held high, feeling strong and confident and smart. 
|
chrislebo
Member
Posts: 168016
|
The hyperlink is visible to registered members only!Chapter Six: May 13 When I walked out of the lingerie store I was on a cloud. I felt strong, confident, sexy, like I could do anything I put my mind to and like I had a right to have anything I wanted. On the way home I was struck by an irresistible craving for French fries. Normally I don't like greasy food, but at that moment deep fat fried anything sounded absolutely delicious. I swung by a McDonalds, thinking I'd get a small fry, but when I opened my mouth at the drive through microphone, what came out was, "I'd like a 10 piece nugget meal, please." 10 Chicken McNuggets! AND a bunch of French fries! God, I'd be working this off my ass for the next month. I thought of canceling the order, but I pushed the thought away. I wanted this. I deserved this. And I was really, really hungry for this. As a concession to sanity, I ordered a Diet Coke. I'm sure that balanced out the meal. I devoured the greasy meal and strongly considered going back for another, such was my craving, but sensibility prevailed and I headed home with the radio blasting and my head banging to the music. (I like punk. I know, who'd think to look at me, right?) When I got home, Charlie was very happy to see me and he greeted me with the enthusiasm that only a canine can muster when he's convinced he'd been left forever alone and then his best buddy comes. I took him out for our daily run, and I added six blocks to it as penance for my indulgence at the Golden Arches. The run cleared my mind and I got into the zone you sometimes get into when you're exercising really good, where you don't think of anything at all except the air in your lungs and the way your muscles are moving smoothly and efficiently but you feel so incredibly good, like the best have ever. I handled the extra mile or so easily enough, but it kicked Charlie's furry butt, and the poor dear just collapsed in a panting heap in front of the floor fan when we got in the door. I got on my knees and petted him for a good fifteen minutes, something we both loved, then let him out the back to investigate the yard and sit in the breeze while I took a shower. I felt perfect when I stepped into the shower; I was thinking about what I had done with Petra, and how sexy and empowered it made me feel, and those thoughts really put me on a high. But when I was rinsing the conditioner out of my hair I suddenly started thinking about my wedding, and how I had pledged to honor and be faithful to Tim, and I suddenly felt incredibly, massively guilty. Regardless of the fact that he and I had no sex life whatsoever, I was still married to him and I still loved him very, very much. He deserved better from me that to be sneaking off to sleazy adult stores to have sex with women – My God. It hit me suddenly, hard and vulgarly, that I had fucked a woman. What had seemed so erotic to me just moments before suddenly felt disgusting and alien and perverse, only a step (if that) above young worryation. How could I have done it? What in the world had I been thinking? And how could I have enjoyed it? How could I have reveled in it? I was sick. I was vile! Tears were streaming down my face when I stepped out of the shower, and when I saw myself naked in the full- length mirror I almost vomited. I looked horrible. I was old. I was wrinkly. I was sagging. I had extra weight. What right did I have to think I was sexy? What right did I have to want anything more than the sexless existence Tim had given me? I broke down completely and cried for half an hour. When I was done crying, I felt a little better. I still had some twinges of guilt, but not nearly as bad, and I covered myself in jeans and a floppy shirt so I wouldn't have to look at my gross body. I settled down in the kitchen and called Tammy, one of the few of my friends who is a stay at home mom like me. Her kids are younger than mine – she has an eight year old, a six year old, and a two year old – but her oldest, Ken, reminds me a lot of Laurel in terms of permisterality, while her two year Laine is a little hellion like David was at that age, though hopefully not as downright evil. The six year old, Martin, has fairly severe autism unfortunately, and so Tammy has to stay home to take care of him. I bustled around the kitchen, preparing the ingredients for the night's dinner (nothing fancy, just lasagna with a salad and some Italian bread) and talking to my friend while she cleaned. I was hoping talking to her would make me feel better, but it had the opposite effect because I was harboring secrets I didn't dare share with her, or with anyone I knew – except David, of course. David would find out what I did with Petra, and that would only give him more ammunition to use against me. The realization sent me into a miserable spiral and by the time I hung up I was ready to cry again. I fussed around a bit, doing a little cleaning, then wrote out a few bills while Charlie laid on my feet and kept them warm. Charlie, my sweet love. Tim surprised me by coming home early – he was home even before the kids. I was a little worried when I heard his car pull up, thinking there was something wrong, but when he came in with a hangdog expression and two dozen roses, I just melted. I put my arms around him, hugged him so tight it took the breath away from both of us, and cried like a baby while I babred about how much I loved him and how sorry I was for what had happened the night before. He assured me it was all right, which just made me cry harder. I barely pulled myself together before David got home. I know David was surprised to see Tim there before him, which just confirmed to me that he had something malignant planned for the afternoon that Tim had, thank God, spoiled. That made me feel good, and I was happy and bouncy and cuddly with Tim until Laurel got back from school, especially because David vanished into his bedroom after saying hello and didn't torment me at all. Dinner that night was fun, or at least that's how I remember it. Initially the kids were very leery, given what I'd yelled to Tim the night before, but Tim and I were jokey and flirty and very comfortable so that by the end everyone loosened up and had a good time. David made some veiled cracks about Charlie but I didn't let it get to me – right then, in fact, it felt like nothing could get to me at all. I felt invulnerable. So I did the logical thing which, was when he made a snarky comment, I laughed and pelted him with garlic bread (which Charlie ate when it hit the floor). After dinner my mood crashed again, for no reamister whatsoever. I was alone except for Charlie, washing the dishes, and all of a sudden I was crying so hard my chest hurt. I stayed miserable for the rest of the night and cried myself to relax beside my confused, worried husband and my confused, worried canine lover. 
|
chrislebo
Member
Posts: 168016
|
May 17 I won't bore you with the story of the next few days. I spent most of the days in tears and hating myself for being fat, ugly, old, faithless, feckless, lustful, perverted and useless. Everyone except Charlie learned to steer clear of me by Wednesday afternoon. Even David learned the lesmister when he came into the kitchen to get a soda when I was fixing dinner and I, for no reamister whatsoever, spent the next ten minutes screaming at him about... well, nothing, actually. Just screaming. I was so angry and irrational that Laurel, of all people, came downstairs and stepped between us. Similarly I spent most of the nights awake, miserable and aching in every joint in my body. I wasn't horny in the slightest – even when Charlie tried to lick me as I changed clothes I shooed him away. The thought of sex, of feeling pleasure, seemed bizarre and alien and undeserved. If you haven't figured it out by now, I was getting my period. I know I didn't figure it out until Friday night when it hit me – literally. It's not that I'm utterly dense. When I was a teenager my periods were so regular I could mark them out on the calendar months ahead of time. But since I was pregnant with David, and especially after Laurel, they became very irregular. It wasn't that uncommon for me to miss a month, or at least be two or three weeks late. It was basically random. Furthermore, my PMS symptoms usually weren't that bad. Oh I'd bloat and ache and get a little moody, but nothing like this time. This time was some kind of a record for me. Stress, I suppose, coupled with the sudden increase in sexual hormones I'd been producing... or something. I don't know, I'm not a doctor. I've heard plenty of men complain that the workings of women's bodies, and especially menstruation, are a mystery to them. The fact is, they're a mystery to a lot of women too. Sometimes you barely red; other times you think your heart is pumping every drop of crimmister straight out through your cooch. Sometimes you have such mild PMS symptoms you don't even notice; other times, like this time, you're so miserable and volatile that you're impossible to be around. Sometimes you're early; sometimes you're late; sometimes you skip. Sometimes the power of your fertility and fecundity strikes you in a sublime, almost spiritual way and you're awed at the majesty of your own body; other times you think it's a huge pain in the ass and you wish you were born without a uterus. This was a bad one. Not only the PMS was bad, but the period itself. Oh the reding wasn't dramatically worse than usual (maybe a little) but the side effect...damn. OK, there's really no beating around the bush here: when I'm through with PMS and actually in my period, I get horny. No, cancel that, I get HORNY. Even when my life was sexless, I'd spend a few days with an itch between my legs that always felt like it needed to be scratched. This time, with the awakening I'd had, I went into heat. It's a vulgar way to say it, sure, but it's also accurate. I woke up Saturday morning at about 3:00 AM *needing* to come like I've seldom needed it before. I lay there for a few minutes thinking fiercely sexual thoughts about Charlie and David, Petra and Brandy, and then I went into my bathroom and fingered myself to a pair of shuddering orgasms in what must have been record time. Even that didn't do more than take the edge off though, because I barely got back to relax before the erotic dreams came... and my, were the erotic. The one I remember best was set in David's second grade class. It was Show and Tell and David brought me. Everyone in the room was a second-grader except for me, David, and the teacher. I was wearing a tiny little flirt skirt that showed my ass, a see-through mesh tank top, no underwear, red fishnet thigh-highs and these crazy stripper shoes, and I was sitting on David's lap. We were making out in the middle of class, kissing fiercely while he fingered me and I stroked his cock; nobody noticed. When it came time for him to present, he carried me up to the teacher's desk, set me there, dropped his pants and started fucking me long, deep and hard with his lovely cock. He kept whispering into my ear that if I wanted him to get an A, we'd have to put on a really good show... I know, I know. How sick can you get, right? I wish I could pass it off as just a dream – after all, you can't control your dreams – but it was so damned hot that I masturbated to it again when I woke up. I knew how wrong, how sick, and even more, how dangerous it was for me to be thinking that way, but I was too hot to stop myself...or at least too hot to want to stop myself. I had the luxury of masturbating then because by the time I woke up it for good it was almost 9:30 and Tim was long gone to the club. So I came, then I laid there and enjoyed my afterglow, and finally dragged myself up and out of bed a few minutes before 10. I felt great. That's the other thing about menstruation – you spend the better part of a week in misery with PMS, and then when you finally get your period you feel vastly better. Oh there are still the occasional cramps, at least for me, and the libido rages, but other than that it feels a world better. I pulled on a simple pair of shorts (dark, naturally) and a tee shirt and went downstairs. Laurel was there, playing with Charlie in the den. Charlie bounded to meet me, wagging his whole butt, while Laurel eyed me warily. It had been a rough week and I'd had everyone in the house walking on eggshells, but she relaxed a bit when I laughed easily at Charlie's antics. After a moment she asked, "How are you feeling?" "Good. Got my period." "Oh! Well...that explains it." I laughed. "Yeah it does. Sorry about the last week." "I had a bet with dad about whether you were going crazy." "You did not!" "Well...maybe not. But I'd have gotten good odds." I stuck out my tongue at her. "Did you eat breakfast?" "Sure did. I ate with dad, and then he took off. I'm leaving in about 20 minutes." "Oh? Where are you going?" "I'm going shopping with Brittney, remember?" I did then. Brittney was her friend who had just gotten her driver's license, and this was the first time she would be able to take a gang of girls to the mall. "When will you be back?" "Probably not until the afternoon, like maybe even after dinner. Oh, and dad said he'd be late today too, a business thing. Looks like you'll be alone with the dork." I paused for a bit. "David's still here?" "David's still in bed. You know him and weekends." I felt a flutter of panic in my breast at the idea of spending the rest of the morning and the early afternoon alone with David (I had a date with some girlfriends in the afternoon myself), but I pushed it aside. I had to deal with him sooner or later so it might as well be sooner. Laurel was gone before I was done with breakfast and so I was left alone with my thoughts. 
|
chrislebo
Member
Posts: 168016
|
And what thoughts. I was so horny my fingernails hurt. I was ashamed of myself for the way I'd acted over the past week. I was ashamed of myself for getting myself in the fix with David. Charlie kept rubbing against my legs and when he did all I could think about was his cock locked inside of me and the way it felt when he pulled out and all his cum exploded from me. I was frightened of what David would do when he finally got out of bed. I kept thinking about David's cock and the way his cum tasted. I wanted to run. I wanted to fuck. I wanted...I guess I wanted something to happen, something to break the tension, something to move me one way or the other because I didn't know which direction to go. Nothing happened during breakfast, naturally enough, or when I took Charlie out in the back yard so he could romp. It was a clammy day, cool and humid and overcast. Larry, my next door neighbor, was out mowing his lawn and I waved to him as I smelled the fresh-cut grass and watched my dog romp. I brought Charlie back inside. David still wasn't up, but I wasn't going to wait around for him. I went upstairs and took a nice long shower; I tried to keep from thinking naughty thoughts but the shower has always been an erotic place for me and it wasn't long before I had the shower wand spraying one particular place and I had my fourth orgasm in about seven and a half hours. I was still ragingly horny when I got out of the bathroom. I have to say at this point that this level of sexual desire wasn't normal for me, even when I was having my period. This was something phenomenal, something wholly other, and I didn't know how to handle it. I was craving orgasms, craving them the same way I craved screwy things like chocolate-covered sauerkraut when I was pregnant; it was bone-deep, all the way through me, always in my mind even when I was thinking about something else. And having an orgasm didn't seem to diminish my want for more. My skin was tingling and wanting to be touched, my nipples were hard and tender, I was almost panting like a dog. I knew, in my head, that this was nothing more than my hormones out of whack, nothing more than a mid- 30s clock-is-ticking thing. I knew it wasn't regular, and I knew it wasn't right. I also knew I needed to come, and come a lot, or I was going to go nuts. My horniness explains what I did when I got out of the shower. I went to get dressed, and initially I grabbed an entirely sensible outfit of long shorts and a summer blouse – and then I stopped. The last time I went to XXXFantasy, I had gotten a bunch of naughty clothes. Well... not naughty, just sexy. A little revealing, a little flirtatious, a little hot. Whatever. They had made me feel attractive when I was trying them on in the store, and right now I wanted, very much, to feel attractive. And that was why, when I went downstairs, I was wearing a tight green top that exposed a hell of a lot of cleavage, a push-up bra that showed my girls to advantage, a tight little black skirt that came halfway down to my knees, a tiny black thong that was more an insinuation of underwear than an actual garment, and a pair of black pumps that put a shimmy in my ass when I walked. At that moment, I loved the way I looked and I wanted to get looked at; I dressed accordingly. The only permister likely to look at me for the next few hours was David...but I could live with that. I wouldn't like it, but I could live with it. Charlie followed me down the stairs, and when we got to the bottom he shoved his head up under my skirt and gave me a sniff. I ruffed his ears and laughed, saying, "What's the matter, boy? You know I'm horny, huh? Can't hide anything from your nose, can I?" His answer was simple but perfectly eloquent: he powerd his nose between my thighs and licked along my slit, right through my panties, and he didn't stop at one lick either. And suddenly I knew just exactly what I wanted to do: I wanted to come on my dog's tongue. A few seconds later I was seated on the sofa, exactly where I was the first time he licked me. My skirt was up around my waist, my panties were around my right ankle, and Charlie was going to town on me with utter abandon. I didn't know if he'd lick my tampon out and I didn't care. I should explain at this point that another way that dogs are better than men is that they have hesitation whatsoever about going down on you when you're in your period. In fact, they seem to love it – I guess there's more flavor for them or more smell or something, but whatever it is, dogs love the taste of menstruating pussy. At any rate I was writhing grinding against him, gasping, moaning, loving every second – And then I heard the sound of David's door closing, and a moment later his feet on the stairs. This is going to sound awful, but it didn't even occur to me to stop. Why should it? This was nothing he hadn't seen, and I could get into no more trouble with him than I already was. Why should I deny myself the pleasure I needed? Besides, I'd made a habit of checking every room I went into for hidden cameras, and the living room was clean. A girl can't be too careful when dealing with a monster like David. And so that was how he found me a few seconds later, legs splayed, Charlie lapping furiously at my twat, my eyes half closed in passion and nearing another climax – my fifth of the morning! David stopped when he saw me and leaned up against the wall, a smirk on his face. "That's quite a sight," he said. "Don't let me interrupt." "I won't," I gasped, spreading my legs wider and tilting my hips to give Charlie a better angle at my ass. In fact, I barely spared David any thought; I was focused on Charlie, and if David wanted to watch, he could watch. And watch was what he did, first from across the room, and then, a few moments later, from the couch where he sat down next to me for a closer look. I didn't try to hide anything, and I didn't try to keep quiet when I came. I moaned loud and long, swore a bit, tremred and stiffened, and all the while he just watch with a cuckolds brownie-eating grin on his face. Charlie licked me for a while after my orgasm, but before I could come again he lost interest and thrust his head into David's hand for a petting. For a little while I sat, wordlessly after-glowing, not caring to cover myself while David petted the dog and looked at my pussy; eventually, though, I closed my thighs, pulled down my skirt, and looked at my mister challengingly, as if daring him to say something. He was grinning. "You look fantastic," he told me. "And not just because of what you were just doing. You're dressed really sexy. I like it a lot." For a moment I went back and forth on how to answer. I was still fiercely angry at him, and the sense of betrayal hadn't faded – at the same time, though, I knew that what I had just done, the carnal pleasure I had just taken with Charlie, as well as what I had done earlier with Petra and even Brandy, was nobody's responsibility but my own. David may have pointed me in this direction, but I was walking it myself, and I was walking it because I suddenly needed to. That wasn't David's fault (if fault was to be assessed), it was mine. And so, after some mental see-sawing, I replied with a curt, "Thank you." His grin faltered a bit at the chill in my voice, but it didn't disappear completely. "Still pretty pissed at me, huh?" "If you have to ask the question it means you wouldn't understand the answer." "Fair enough," he nodded, easing back in the sofa. "I deserve that." 
|
chrislebo
Member
Posts: 168016
|
"I don't understand why you did it," I said suddenly, the anger flaring up in me. "Why did you film us? And why did you throw it in my face like that? And don't give me that 'Because I could' crap because that isn't any kind of answer. I was doing what you wanted. I was doing what we wanted. I thought we had shared something really wonderful, like I had never shared with anyone before, and when you pulled that camera out –" I stopped then because I could feel tears coming, and even though they were tears of rage, not tears of weakness, I didn't want him to misinterpret anything. So I swallowed, got a grip, and went on while trying to stay calmer. "When you did that, you *******ed what had been growing between us. I hope you understand that." "I know." He sounded sad, but I knew better than to trust his tone. "I am sorry, for what it's worth." "I don't believe you." He shrugged, but not dismissively – it was more of a hopeless kind of motion. Looking at the floor, his hand still petting Charlie's neck, he said, "I deserve that too. And I won't tell you I'd take it back if I could, because that would be a lie." "Well thank you for the honesty! So why did you do it? Don't you understand that if you hadn't done it, I'd have given you what you wanted? I would have, David. If you'd have just left things where they were before you did it, if you'd have cuddled me and helped me clean up and told me how much you loved me, then I'd have been on my knees for you every day since then. Do you understand that?" "Yeah I do." "And if you'd have done that, treated me decently, then I would probably be in bed with you right now." He didn't seem as surprised as I'd hoped. In fact, he didn't really seem surprised at all. "Yeah," was all he said. I wasn't quite sure what to make of that non-reaction, but my dander was up and I didn't slow down. "Oh, I wouldn't have asked, but I knew what you wanted. After what you said, after the evening we shared, I wanted to give it to you. You wouldn't have had to twist my arm very much." "But now I will." I nodded. "Oh, now you will, kiddo. I'm not stupid enough to think you're going to give up, but I'm going to make it as hard for you as I can. I'll beat you if I can. I want you to know and understand that." "I understand." "So why? Why did you do it?" Now it was his turn to give me the infuriating line: "Mom, if you have to ask that question it means you wouldn't understand the answer." I thought a harsh answer was going to come, but when I opened my mouth I laughed instead. It was a bitter laugh, but it was a laugh. "So, we're incomprehensible to each other." He shrugged again. "I don't think we are. I just think we need to work at it." "Oh, kiddo, I do not want to work at it." "Yeah, I know. But I think I get you more than you get me." Some sharp retorts came to mind, but in all honesty it was terrifying how easily he wrapped me around his finger when he wanted to sex me up so I just stayed quiet. After a few seconds o silence, he added, "You do know that I could take you up to bed right now, right? If I wanted to. You couldn't stop me if I tried, and you couldn't say anything to anyone about it." Now I was the one giving a nonchalant shrug. "And if you were going to do that you'd have done it by now. You don't need to remind me of my situation because I understand it perfectly well." "What you don't understand is me." "I guess I don't." Charlie sniffed at my crotch again and I unashamedly opened my legs for him, but he didn't give me more than a cursory lick before lying down, tail thumping, looking at us expectantly. David looked down at him, then up at me. "So have you? With Charlie?" "I tried," I admitted. "Didn't work. He knew what he wanted but not how to do it, and I couldn't coax him into position for long enough to make it happen." "You need another pair of hands." "Yeah. That I do." "I'll be that pair of hands for you, mom." A sardonic smile quirked my lips. "And now's the time I ask about the price." "No price." I laughed again. "David, with you there's always a price, so knock off the crap." "No cameras," he told me. "And I keep my clothes on, 100%. I don't expect you to touch me and I won't touch you any more than I have to to make it work. Not unless you want me to." "I wouldn't want you to." "I didn't figure. But there's the offer mom. Straight up. I know what you want and need and I'm willing to help you get I with no strings." I looked at him appraisingly, but his face – and especially his eyes – looked honest enough. I wasn't going to flatter myself anymore than I could read a lie on my mister's face, but I didn't even see the slightest hint of deception there. I didn't know what to make of that. "I...I'm not suite sure I buy that." "And I don't blame you. But the offer stands open." I bit my lip. My arms were crossed in front of me and I was looking at him like I did back when he was a tiny boy and I caught him in an absurd lie. "And what do you get out of it? I know you don't do anything nice for anyone without getting something out of it." He smiled. God, that smile. It could melt ice...or an ice queen. "I know you won't believe it when I say it, but I meant every single word I said to you that night. Every single one. I meant it when I told you how beautiful you are, and I meant it when I told you how much I love you. I do want to see you happy, believe it or not." "But you're willing to make me miserable to make it happen?" He nodded, and this time I laughed cheerfully. "Oh kiddo, that doesn't make any sense. You don't make any sense." "We'll see," he laughed back. And I'd be lying if I said it didn't feel good to laugh with my mister. I didn't want it to, but he's my mister – and he had made me feel like no other man ever had or, I was starting to think, ever could. He knew me and accepted me. He'd stabbed me in the back, yes, but I knew that he didn't condemn me for anything I'd done, and I knew that he would support whatever I did along those lines in the future. He'd use them against me, of course, but he wouldn't think I was a pervert, and he'd almost certainly help me if he could. "To someone who'd spent so much of her life denying who she was and what she wanted, that was a very, very powerful thing. "Anyway," he went on, "the offer is open and it will stay open. Whenever you want, I'll help you and Charlie. I'll try to get him used to it so he doesn't need my help – so you don't need my help. And I won't ask for a thing in return. Just think about it." I nodded slowly. "I will." He leaned in and put a loving kiss on my forehead, and then stood up. "I gotta take a shower and get going, I'm supposed to meet some friends." "What's her name?" He grinned teasingly. "What's the matter? Jealous?" I stuck out my tongue. "You should be so lucky, kiddo." His grin got even more teasing, and he said, "I'm playing some extreme Frisbee with Brandy and a few of her friends. You know, Brandy was really jealous that Petra's was the first pussy you sucked and not hers." "Well, let her know hers will be next." "No kidding?" "No kidding." "All right, I'll tell her. You know she still wants to get together with me and you." I gave him a "not gonna happen" look and he laughed. "OK, OK, just saying." 
|
chrislebo
Member
Posts: 168016
|
He headed out of the room, then paused and turned in the doorway. "When do you think your period will be done?" I was in the midst of pulling up my itty bitty panties, but I stopped and gave him a surprised look. "How did you know I was on my period?" He looked at me like I was an idiot. "Mom, come on. What other explanation could there have been for the last week?" "You knew I was PMSing?" "Well of course." "Huh. I wish you'd have told me. I was miserable. Anyway, probably Thursday or Friday. Why?" "Because you and I are going for dinner and dancing." I paused. "We are?" "Yep, and I want you to be able to enjoy it without worrying about bodily functions." "Where do you think we're going?" "Sophie's, downtown Minneapolis. Do you know it?" In spite of myself, I felt my heart quicken just a beat. Sophie's was a 30's-style nightclub along the river with a fantastic view of downtown. It had swing and jazz bands, a romantically small dance floor, and some excellent French food. I'd never been there, but I'd heard fantastic things. I should explain. A fine dinner followed by dancing, especially to jazz, was one of my all-time favorite things to do. It always made me feel sexy, clever, glamorous – like I was in some wonderful old black and white movie. It made me feel like a princess. Tim had only taken me a couple of times – he loved eating at good restaurants, but he neither liked nor had a talent for dancing. Dancing isn't much fun with someone who obviously doesn't want to be there – but when you're with someone who loves it as much as you do, then it's as close as you could get to Heaven on Earth. Damn him, but David knew just the way to my heart. "I've heard of it," I said cautiously. "How are you going to get in? You aren't of age." "I have a good fake ID," he replied with a laugh, and I didn't doubt him for a second. "Also, the maître d' owes me big time. Don't ask what for. I want you to wear the slinky little red dress you got, OK?" My head was still slightly whirling as I nodded. "OK." "Friday night." "OK." He left me alone then, and it was only a few seconds before I started to wonder how he had, in a few seconds, defused my anger and made me actually look forward to a date on the town with him. My mister was a horrifically slick young man. A couple of hours later I walked up to a table in front of Ma Bella Passiona, a new Italian place on the Nicollet Mall in downtown Minneapolis. I was still wearing that same revealing outfit, and I'm sure male eyes would have been on me if there hadn't been a parade of barely-dressed, tight-bodied 18 year old girls going up and down the sidewalk. Bitches. Anyway, I was the last of our little group to arrive, and there were jaws slack with amazement as I sat down in the open chair between April and Tammy. I had known most of these girls for 20 years or more, and none of them had ever seen me dressed this way. It was Stacey that spoke first. Stacey is a lawyer who works in the office of the Dean of the Law School at Hamline University. She's on her third husband (it's not that she's not a devoted wife, it's just she has terrible taste in men). She was so surprised she dropped her cigarette (she'd just taken up smoking again after a three year cold turkey period) and said, "Um...who are you and what have you done with Angela?" I gave her my best innocent look. "What do you mean?" Tammy was staring at my legs. "Girl, that's the shortest skirt I have EVER seen you in!" I shrugged nonchalantly, though I was enjoying their reaction immensely. "Oh, I just thought what with it being spring and all..." "OK, OK, OK, one strong breeze than that top is coming off," Jen pointed out with a grin. Jen's a tiny little thing, cute as a button, and she has the meanest, sharpest, and funniest sense of humor of any woman I know, not that you'd think to look at her angel-face. "Hennepin Avenue is one block thattaway." I stuck out my tongue, but I laughed. Hennepin Avenue is a lot cleaner now, but it used to be notorious for biker bars, porn shops and hookers back when we were kids. Tom Waits even wrote a misterg about it. "I don't think I look that bad." "No, not bad," Patty said, still looking surprised. "Different, but not bad." "Who is he?" April asked. "Who's who?" "They guy you're having an affair with." The girls all laughed, but I just shook my head. "Oh no, no other men for me," I said. "Tim and David are the only men in my life." "Oh, Tim's obviously laying it to her good and regular," Jen said brightly, and we all had a good laugh about that. These girls were my best friends, aside from my sister, and we all knew each other's happinesses and frustrations – as far as I knew, I was the only one at the table with a dark secret. "No, he's still dead from the waist down," I replied. "So what prompts this?" Tammy asked. April arched an eyebrow. "If I didn't know better I'd say you were looking for action." "No, that's not it," I said. "I just decided I didn't need anyone's permission to feel attractive. I mean, I'm not a bad looking woman. I can pull this look off. So why shouldn't I? Why do I need my husband's say-so before I feel good about myself? Why do I need anyone's say-so?" "Hear hear!" Stacey cried, ringing her fork against her iced tea glass. "That's the way to be!" "Damn skippy," Patty nodded. "Sisters are doing it for themselves." "You are woman, hear you roar," added Tammy. April chuckled, but the little glance she shot at me told me she knew there was something more than I was telling. April is nothing if not ridiculously insightful, which has helped her career as a counselor and intimidated a lot of men over the years; she was still unmarried, and pretty much convinced she would always be so. She's had plenty of relationships, of course, but there's always something about her that chases men off eventually. "So...no big news?" I opened my mouth to speak, and when I did I planned to say, "No," but at that moment the waiter came. He was this really cute dark-haired, dark skinned boy who looked like he hopped right out of a Greek fantasy; he couldn't have been a day over 19. He brought me a glass of water and stopped to see if we were ready to order, and when his eyes locked with mine... well, sparks flew. I knew it, he knew it... and the girls knew it too. I knew they were exchanging knowing looks, but I didn't care. I looked sexy, I felt sexy, and this was something I was reveling in. I took a quick look at the menu and got a chicken Caesar salad and a glass of white wine; as I did, the waiter stood over my shoulder checking me out, and I made sure to give him the best view I could. Once he'd gotten the order and we were alone again, the other five girls burst out laughing. "I guess Tim and David need to move over," Jen observed. "I'm not gonna fuck him," I said primly. "I'm just gonna look. I can look and not be cheating." "So," April repeated, "no big news?" I don't know what possessed me, except that my hormones were crippling my judgment and I knew that I could trust these five women with anything, because we had kept each other's secrets before. When Tammy had a brief affair shortly after her marriage; when Jen was struggling with how to deal with a lecherous boss who kept trying to involve her in embezzlement; when Stacey's first husband had turned out to be an user; when April got involved with a married man in the vain hope he would leave his emotionally frigid wife (only to have him run off with some 19 year old who worked in his office); when Patty got hooked on slot machines at the casinos and needed our help to break the chain. I hadn't told them about my brief affair years before, but I wasn't in the mood anymore to keep everything that was happening to me a secret. It's always more fun to tell. And so I was very matter of fact when I picked up my glass of water, took a sip and said, "I had sex with a woman." I don't think I could have caused a bigger reaction if I'd have pulled a rabid skunk out of my purse and dropped it on the table. There was a pause and then an explosion of sound as five women started asking questions all at once. It was an insane Babel as I looked calmly from face to face, smiling a cocky little smile. Finally Jen got them all quieted down and said, "You're joking. You are joking. Right?" "Nope, I went all the way with another girl," I replied cheerfully. "Well...when? How?" Tammy demanded. "And why?" Stacey asked. 
|
chrislebo
Member
Posts: 168016
|
"I do think you owe us some details, Angela," April told me with a smile. Of all the women at the table, it was April who had the most experience on that side of things. She had gone to Bryn Mawr for her undergrad studies and had gone through a serious and lengthy lesbian phase before deciding that she really liked men after all. Other than that, I knew that Stacey had done a three-way with her second husband and a gal from his work, but I didn't think that the others had any experience in that line besides maybe smooching other girls in junior high. "Well OK, it went like this..." I told the story exactly as it happened, except I left Charlie and David's part in it, I made shopping for lingerie my idea, I combined the encounters with Brandy and Petra into one and...well, I guess I didn't really tell it exactly as it happened. What I said was that I had decided to get some sexy things and went to a little lingerie shop, where the sexy black salesgirl had seduced me in the changing room and then moved me to the stockroom for sex. I left out names and locations, and refused to answer any questions along those lines. The waiter came right at the end with our food, and he took a loooooong look at my legs (which I had conveniently placed so as to give him a good view), and when he was gone, the questions started up again. Patty was first. "Angela...did you like it?" I shrugged. "It was OK. I mean, it felt good. It wasn't unnatural or weird. She tasted good." (There were slightly disgusted moans from Tammy and Jen there.) "It was fun. I might do it again, but it's not like I'm gay now. I don't think I'm even bi. I think I just like sex and I'm willing to take what I can get." I paused, then added as an afterthought, "Without cheating on Tim, I mean." "So this wasn't cheating?" Jen asked dubiously. "There needs to be a dick involved before it's cheating?" "I think so," Tammy said with a shrug. "I'm not even sure it's cheating if you blow a guy who isn't your husband. I think there needs to be penetration." "That seems pretty literal," Jen laughed. "I mean, you can run around sucking the high school football team and –" "Can we please get back to the topic?" Stacey interrupted, holding up a hand. "Not that I don't want to talk about 50 teenage cocks, but we were discussing something else." April chuckled. I knew she was feeling proud of herself for ferreting out my skeleton in the closet. If only she knew my real skeletons! "I think the bigger question is whether Tim knows." I shook my head. "Nope, this is our little secret." "How do you think he'd react?" Stacey asked. "I mean he might like it." "Yeah, it might light a fire in his pants," Tammy nodded. "I don't think a nuclear bomb could light a fire in that man's pants," Jen sighed. "He's a sweety, but he's not a lover." "Unfortunately I think that's true," I replied. My tone was regretful, but at that point I didn't care all that much. For the first time since I got pregnant with David, I had options. It felt good to have options. "I don't know if we'll ever do it again. He seems to have lost interest in me." "In that case it's definitely not cheating," Tammy said firmly. "I mean, my God, people have needs. That doesn't go away because you're married." "Tell me about it," Patty said sourly, and I think we all instantly felt a twinge of guilt. Patty's husband Thomas (or Dumpface, as I like to call him) is, for lack of a better description, a useless, cold, mean, takesen porn addict who hasn't touched her for five years or more even though she's just about begged him on bended knee time and time again. "I'm sorry, Patty," Stacey said, squeezing Patty's hand. "Pat, you know what I'm going to say because I've been telling you this for years," Tammy said. "But if you're doing your best in your marriage the your husband – or your wife, let's be fair – just flat out refuses to take care of your bare needs, then you have every right to go outside and get it taken care of there. You don't stop being human just because you say I Do." This was a longstanding topic of discussion in our group, especially given the...well, let's say the volatility of the romantic lives of some of the girls. The conversation took off on a swirl of tangents the way it does when good friends get together, and I was content to put my two cents in now and again. Of course, a lot of what happened around the table was unspoken, only noticed because we six are exquisitely attuned to each other after decades of sharing our triumphs and failures. Jen was riding high because, in spite of the economy, she'd just nailed down both a promotion and significant raise. Stacey was her usual bubbly self, indefatigable even in the face of growing evidence that her latest train wreck of a husband was cheating on her, possibly with a married couple of all things. April had finally gotten her life in order and was just happy that things were on a stable track for the moment. It was Tammy and Patty I was worried about, because they were both in the dumps and had been for a long time. For Tammy the cause was the same as it always had been: she's the lady of a severely autistic young. It wasn't simply that, of course, because she adores Martin, but caring for him is a 24-hour a day job that leaves time for very little else, and on top of that she has two other youngren, a husband, and a house to take care of. As much as I empathize with her (and I do, my God I do) I know I can't understand what she's going through. She's never come out and said it in these terms, but there comes a time in most everyone's life when you realize that the dreams you held as a teenager and young adult, of you lighting the world on fire and writing your name across the sky, simply aren't going to come true. For most of us that means getting smaller dreams, setting achievable goals that you can fulfill and be fulfilled by as you grow older in the life you've made for yourself. For Tammy though, and for other parents in her situation, the dreams died and there was nothing to replace them because the defining fact of her life, now and until the day either she or Martin died, was the fact of Martin's autism. She was and had to be the lady of an autistic young first and foremost, before everything. Martin was almost as helpless as an ***** and required constant care, but unlike an ***** there was no chance of him ever growing out of it. He was what he would be, and Tammy was what she would be, and the realization of that had been weighing on her more and more since Martin was diagnosed. I know that if she was given the chance to go back in time and abort her pregnancy with him she wouldn't even think about it – she loves him as much as she loves herself, if not more – but the fact is that his care is all she will accomplish for the rest of her life and she knows it. Every other dream has not only been deferred but canceled, and it's a lot to carry. Patty, on the other hand, seemed to have something else going on besides her usual neglect by Thomas and the daily stress of being a grade school teacher. I don't think anyone else noticed, but several times I saw, out of the corner of her eye, that she was looking at me like she wanted to talk to me specifically, but of course nothing was said. Conversation kept drifting back to me and my sexual encounter with a woman, of course. I steadfastly refused to provide any details of who or where. Jen seemed curious, Tammy and Stacey kept making jokes about it, and April looked smug every time it was brought up. Only Patty seemed quiet about the whole thing. The biggest question was if and when I was planning a repeat performance, and whether it would be with the same gal or a different one. I just kept saying I was keeping my mind open to possibilities, which of course provoked speculation on the possibility, which I, of course, loved. For the first time since I got knocked up with Laurel, my sex life was the topic of conversation for something I'd done rather than not done, and I was eating it up. In fact, I have to confess it was making me horny – well, hornier – and the fact that the gorgeous Greek waiter kept buzzing around the table and checking me out didn't help either. By the time lunch was over I was very itchy for another orgasm, so I gave myself one as I drove home. I didn't even stop playing with myself when the bus pulled up along side on the freeway... 
|
chrislebo
Member
Posts: 168016
|
May 19 The rest of the weekend flew by, as weekends do. Saturday night was dinner and cards with Tom's parents (very nice people) and Sunday was taken up with yard work with Tom, errands, and general business. I stayed in an orgasmic fugue much of the time, to be honest – I even sneaked a couple of rub-offs in my in-laws' bathroom, and Charlie licked me again on Sunday morning when he and I were the only ones home and awake. Patty called Sunday when I was out, leaving me a message to call her back. I tried but there was no answer, and I wondered what was on her mind. She obviously had something going on that she wanted to talk about, but I had no idea what. I spent Sunday night in heat – literally. I was so horny my whole body felt like it was on fire and I slept in just my flimsy little nightgown, without even a sheet. I kept drifting off to relax and being awakened by erotic dreams of such power that I would lie, half in and half out of relax, only awake enough to give myself an orgasm before drifting back to dreams. I think I must have come three or four times that night. Monday morning I fixed breakfast for Laurel and Tim, but my mind wasn't on it. I was thinking of sex, of every kind and variation. I was flushed, my nipples were hard inside my bra, my panties were soaked. By the time Tim left, David still hadn't stirred out of his room, so I went up to... check on him. I didn't knock before I opened his door – I just went right in. He was standing in the middle of his bedroom in his underwear and socks and nothing else, preparing to pull up his jeans. He could see on his face that he bit back a sharp response when the door opened, instead saying, "Yeah, I'm running late, sorry. I overslept." My response was a saucy, conspiratorial smile as I walked across his bedroom and put a hand to his forehead. He was baffled as I tsk-tsked. "Uh oh," I said, "you're burning up." "I am?" he asked, plainly puzzled. "Mmmm-hmmmm," I replied, looking meaningfully into his eyes. "You're much too sick to do anything but stay home and help Charlie fuck my brains out a couple of times today." Understanding dawned, and he laughed. "Oh yeah, I am feeling pretty sick after all." "I'll call the school," I told him with a wink, turning and heading for the door. "Mom?" he said before I got there, and I turned. He met me as I did, his arms around me, pulling me to his warm, bare skin. I barely had time to tilt my head back before his lips were on mine. His tongue passed my lips and found mine, and in spite of myself I felt myself kissing back. I didn't want to give up that control to him, but he left me no choice whatsoever. He kissed me and I crumred into him, and that was that. As soon as he knew I wasn't going to pull away, his hands were sliding under the waistband of my shorts to cup my bare ass in his hands, and before I knew it my arms were around his neck, holding him to me. The kiss lasted a long time, and before it was finished I was weak in the knees from the feel of his strength and his erection against my tummy. "I...um...I thought you weren't...going to touch me...unless I said it was OK," I said, quite breathlessly, as I stepped away. "Not while you and Charlie are going at it," he told me with a smile. "But if you think I'm going another whole week without kissing you, and kissing you a lot, well, you're nuts." "Oh," I said softly. The way he held me and kissed me left me a tough dizzy, and I didn't react nearly as firmly as I ought to have. I tried to think of something to say that would let me assert some control, but all I could come up with was, "Don't come downstairs until Laurel is gone." Charlie fucked me twice that day, the first time just 10 minutes after Laurel left for school. He got excited when I put on my dog fucking outfit, prancing and hopping with the tip of his thrilling red cock poking out from his furry sheath. David hovered close the first time, keeping Charlie where he was supposed to be, and this time Charlie hit his mark in just a few moments, sliding into me and beginning to fuck me in the hard, savage, perfectly naturalistic way that only a dog can. It was blissful, wondrous, better than I remembered it being – and I remembered it being transcendent. This time I thought to use enough cushions and support that I was comfortable throughout the whole thing, and because I knew what to expect this time I enjoyed my first orgasm when the hammering started and then played with my clit for two more as soon as he settled down to fill me with his come. This time, with both of us more relaxed, he stayed tied with me for over 20 minutes. David was as good as his word – no cameras, no touching. I could see how badly he wanted to touch me, and how badly he wanted to be touched, but that wasn't what I wanted now. Wait, I have to correct myself because in all honestly I did want it. I remembered what his cock felt like in my hands, so thick and hard and alive; I remembered how it felt in my mouth, with his pulse against my tongue as he fucked my face like the slutty whore he had made me want to be; I remembered the taste and feel of his cum in my mouth as I swallowed it all and how delicious it was. I did want it. I even wanted him to fuck my mouth while Charlie was taking my bitch pussy, knowing that the feel of my canine lover's cock in one end and my mister's cock in the other would give me an orgasm without my even touching myself. But I didn't do it. It was hard, but I stayed strong and made him keep his clothes on. I think I needed to do that to see if I could trust him after all, to see if he had really learned anything from his mistake. The way he treated me, adoringly and respectfully and lovingly, made me believe that he had. The poor dear was so cute with his erection stretching his shorts. I know he wanted to come as he helped the dog fuck me, but he was a good boy and he kept his hands off of himself. It was only afterward, when Charlie had pulled out of me and licked me clean and I was lying in a pool of our juices and my sweat, that I gave my mister a proud, happy smile, nodded at his bulge, and said, "You'd better go take care of that, kiddo." He smiled back and kissed me on my perspiration-dappled brow. I suppose I was still pretty naïve, or maybe the mind-blowing doggy-fuck I'd just experienced had left me unable to think clearly, but I was expecting him to head up to his bedroom to relieve himself, or at least to the bathroom. In the light of day I can't quite imagine why I thought that, and he certainly didn't. Instead he pulled his shirt up over his head as he walked to the sofa, and with a quick motion shed his shorts and underwear. Before I knew quite what was happening he was perfectly naked and perfect, leaning back on the sofa with his ass on the edge of the cushion and his ideal cock hard and erect, proud in his hand. "Ummmm...what are you doing?" I asked, feeling a bit of a twitter in my stomach. "I thought you said you were going to keep your clothes on..." "While I was helping you and Charlie," he corrected smugly. I'm sure he noticed my eyes were riveted to his magnificent cock and the hand that was idly stroking it. "But you told me to do this." "But I didn't think you'd do it right here in front of me," I said, suddenly nervous. Damn him but he knew what looking at him did to me, and he knew that if he started jerking off in front of me I wouldn't be able to look away...or keep myself from getting turned on. He had let me have control of the situation – or rather he had let me think I had control of the situation – but now he was taking it back again. I felt that old helpless sense coming back over me, that feeling that once more I had trapped myself, that once more I had been beaten in a game whose rules I didn't understand because my mister kept changing them. David's response was to run his right hand up along his shaft, slowly pulling his foreskin up over the head while his left index finger teased the crease of his balls. He was watching my face, but I had eyes only for what he was doing to his beautiful cock. He started jacking for real, his strokes long and firm, and I felt my palms itch to be around him. I knew exactly how it would feel if I closed my fingers around his cock and felt his velvety skin and his warmth. I knew I could feel his pulse through it, and I knew his breathing would become rapider and shallower the faster I stroked and the closer I brought him to orgasm. My hands could feel it the same way an amputee can feel his phantom limb – as though his cock was a part of me now, and my body wanted it. 
|
chrislebo
Member
Posts: 168016
|
I don't know how I kept from touching myself as he masturbated. Even though I had just been thoroughly and savagely fucked by Charlie, I was already so horny again that it took everything I had to keep from putting my hand between my thighs and making myself come right alongside my mister. I rubbed my thighs together as I watched and felt my sore, used, stretched pussy rub against itself, felt drizzles of dog cum oozing out and wetting my already-wet thighs. I wanted it, I wanted his cock in my hand, my pussy in my hand, my climax hitting me. I wanted to pull every last drop of David's cum out of his balls, watch it arc in the sunlight as he came, watch it spatter and spray on his belly, my hand, his cock, my arm, his thighs, my face. I wanted to smell his release as his semen flowed from him. I wanted to feel his need grow and grow under my touch – and then suddenly be fulfilled, his young, hard body tensing for a blissful instant before relaxing, spent with the rapture I had given him. And David, of course, watched my face and read my desires there just as surely as if I was shouting them out. He knew what he was doing to me. He knew that I was feeling every stroke of his cock just as much as he did. He knew he was making me hungry for him, and all the hungrier because I had denied him to myself to show how much in control of the situation I was. He watched me and he saw that I wasn't in control of a damned thing, and I saw it too, and I couldn't stop. I couldn't take my eyes off of him as his strokes became faster, harder, as his cock got even stiffer and bigger. When he clenched his teeth and hissed, "I'm gonna cum, mom. I'm thinking about how hot you looked getting fucked by Charlie and it's gonna make me cum," I felt his words in the marrow of my bones. I saw the head of his cock go from pink to red to crimmister to purple. I saw his fist fly. I heard his breath get ragged and gasping and short. I saw his eyes flutter closed. I saw his sweet, lovely balls clench against his teasing finger... I saw him cum. I know I gasped when I watched his cock give that mighty jerk and a spray of glorious white jetted forth, and I know he heard my gasp and that it added power to his orgasm. I watched as his juices spattered his belly and his chest, both hard and glistening with the sweat he had given himself in his desire (it should have been me giving him that sweat, my mind whispered). I saw spurt after spurt and I licked my lips because I knew exactly how his cock felt in my mouth when it came, that perfect and indescribable sensation of triumph I had felt by making my own mister orgasm for me with my lips and my tongue. I knew exactly how his seed would feel in my mouth and how it would taste as I swallowed, gout after hot gout flowing down my eager, open throat... I didn't touch myself. I don't know how I didn't touch myself. When he was done, he sat panting and watching me through half-lidded eyes as I watched the light through the window glisten on his liquid. Neither of us said a word. I don't think I could have trusted my voice to speak. The only sound in the living room was my beautiful baby boy's panting and Charlie licking himself in the corner. I spent the rest of the morning with David. There was nothing sexual about it. I took a shower and changed clothes (into something skimpy so he'd have something to look at – all right, there was a little bit sexual about it) and he helped me rearrange the den like I'd been wanting to do. We watched a little morning TV and we played a game of cribbage. We talked and laughed and teased. He made casual, lighthearted reference to me fucking Charlie and I made casual, lighthearted reference to him jerking off. Once he surprised me by kissing me when I wasn't expecting it and I simply melted into his arms and let him kiss me as his hands and mine roamed over each other's bodies. It was comfortable. It was easy. I was as at home with him as I could be with anyone in the entire world, and he was the closest thing I had to a human male lover. I know, and I knew then, that such familiarity was dangerous for both of us, because he would assume it would be permanent and it made my boundaries, the ones that I needed to keep, weaker and less certain. But I had never in my adult years had a lover I could simply relax and spend time with (my earlier indiscretion years before had been sex only, little talk) and it was a very, very seductive thing to relax with a lover and simply enjoy the intimacy that can only be earned through the openness and honesty of sex. It was wrong and stupid, I know, but it felt too good for me to deny myself. I was just making lunch (nothing fancy, just sandwiches) when I got a surprise phone call from Patty. She was at work on her break, sitting in her car as she drove around aimlessly, and I could tell by her voice that she needed to talk. She didn't take long to get to the point: "Angela, I'm thinking about having an affair." So far it was hardly a surprise. Like I mentioned, her husband Dump-face was the world's biggest waste of carbon and he didn't deserve her presence at all, much less her fidelity. I and the other girls had told her as much for years, so my response was pretty rote when I said, "I think you should, Patty. I think you should leave him, in fact. Who's the temptation?" "A new teacher here at school," she replied. "Huh...well, workplace affairs can be dangerous. At least that's what I've read. Not like I've ever had a workplace..." "I know." "On the other hand, if you did do it, you've have a perfect excuse for your absences." "I know." There was something still bothering her, I could tell, something that hadn't come out. I figured I knew what it was. "He's married, isn't he?" "No," she replied. "And it's a she." Apparently I was wrong about what was bothering her. "She? You mean..." "Yeah." I bit my lip and sat down on the kitchen chair. "OK," I said, "I think you need to start a little closer to the beginning." And so she did. The other teacher was named Maria. She was a 26 year old woman from Texas who had just moved up here and took an open teacher slot. She was a real lesbian, no men at all, and there had been a spark from the first time she and Patty met. Patty had spent the whole school year trying to ignore it, and mostly she succeeded. Except... "Two weeks ago we were staying late to work on a project. I don't even know how it happened, but... well, we did some stuff. I was in it before I even knew it." That explained her relative silence during the lunch when I'd brought up me and Petra...which in turn explained why she was calling me now. "How far did you go? Do you mind my asking?" "Kissing," she said hesitantly. "And touching. Um, under the clothes touching." "Upper or lower body?" "Upper. She...well, she wanted to do lower but I stopped her." "And how do you feel about it now?" A long pause, and then, "She likes me, Angela. She likes me just how I am. She doesn't tell me I need to lose weight. She doesn't tell me she hates the gray in my hair or the wrinkles around my eyes. She doesn't tell me I'm not attractive. She likes me for who I am." 
|
chrislebo
Member
Posts: 168016
|
I knew how powerful that allure was, given that David loved me for who I was (I suppose he loved me, anyway) and he could wrap me around his finger with a little gesture. Patty was overweight and had been since shortly after she got married to Dump-face. She ate too much because she was miserable and she was miserable because she ate too much, and the wheels on the bus went round and round. Dump-face, the cause of her misery, never missed an opportunity to beat her with that stick either. To have someone want her for who she was, to have someone accept her, had to be enormous. But. "Are you sure it's not just... well, an infatuation? Given that she's nice to you?" "I've thought of that. It's that that's kept me from doing anything until now...that and the fact that she's a she. And... if I'm being honest with myself, I know that's part of it. I'd be a liar if I said it wasn't. But that's not all of it. The first time we met, at the beginning of the year, she shook my hand and I felt sparks between us. Honest to God, Angela, I felt sparks like she'd scuffed her feet on the carpet. I've never felt that with anyone else, ever." We talked for another 20 minutes until her lunch break was over, and it all boiled down to the last thing I said to her before she hung up: "You don't get points for being miserable, Patty. You get one fucking life and if you don't make yourself happy in it then you die regretting what you didn't do. I've decided I don't want to die regretting what I didn't do. That's the only piece of advice I have for you." There was another long pause. "I guess that's all the advice I really need." I smiled hugely and felt a surge of pride in Patty like I hadn't felt in years. "Call me in a day or two. Let me know how it goes." "I will." "Good luck, Patty." "Thanks Angela. For everything." I was so happy when I hung up that I could have exploded, and I took a moment to reflect on the strangeness of it all. David had caught me with Charlie and blackmailed me into seeing Brandy, which had led to my seeing Petra, which had led to Patty getting the courage to do something she wanted and needed to do. A butterfly's wings in the Amazon... "What are you looking so happy about?" David asked cheerfully as he strolled into the kitchen looking for the sandwich I'd told him I'd bring him a half hour before. I smiled back at him, a beaming smile that lit up the room and put an answering smile on my mister's face, even if he didn't know why. Standing, I took him in my arms and said, "Shut up and kiss me." He kissed me. Boy did he kiss me, and I kissed him, and before it was done my shirt was up around my neck and my tits were in his mouth and it would have gone a lot further had I let it. But I didn't let it, as much as I wanted to at that moment. I halted his hands when they went south of the border and he accepted me halting him with a smile. "One of these days," he whispered, "you're not going to stop me." At that moment, in my lovely mister's strong arms, feeling adoration and trust, love and lust, sweetness and softness and his perfect male strength, I thought he might be right. I thought he might be right sooner than he knew. But I barely admitted that to myself, and I didn't admit it at all to him. Instead I swatted his ass hard enough to make him jump, laughed, and told him, "Eat your sandwich. I feel a need to get fucked by a big, wonderful dog again this afternoon." We ate together, and when I was done I went to dress in my dog-fucking clothes again. Charlie was with me and he got positively frantic when I picked up the ugly, garish shirt. He knew what it meant now and he loved it. He almost knocked me down then and there, his arms wrapped around my waist and his rear end already humping. I can't even tell you how thrilled I was to see that he wanted me as much as I wanted him! "Let's see how much he's learned," David said as he watched me dress. "After all, you don't want to have me around all the time when you're doing this." "I like having you here," I told him honestly at least – at least it was honest for the moment, since I'd noticed that my feelings tended to be rather changeable of late. "I love sharing this with someone who understands." He smiled and squeezed my hand. "What I mean is you don't want to only be able to do this when I'm around and nobody else is. You want to be able to do this whenever you have the chance and the desire. You want to be able to do this by yourself." My eyes got a little distant as I thought about getting dog cock every day while the kids were at school and I nodded. "Yeah, I do. I definitely do. But that doesn't mean I don't want to share this with you." "I know, mom," David replied, squeezing my hand again. "I love sharing this with you, just like I loved you watching me this morning." I blushed and he laughed. "No, don't be shy about it. Do you have any idea how many times I've done that thinking about you?" I shook my head and grinned in spite of myself. "No...how many?" He grinned back. "Two or three times a day for the last seven or eight years..." "That's a lot of jerking off." "You're a lot sexy." "You're a flatterer." "Is my flattery working?" "You know it is." "Well in that case," he laughed, "I'll keep it up. Now, on your hands and knees like a good bitch and offer that sweet little cunt to Charlie. We'll see if he can learn a new trick." Once more I thrilled to his vulgar and demeaning words. It was so strange! I wanted and needed his respect and (because he was my mister) his obedience. I needed him to understand and acknowledge that I was the parent, the authority, the power. And yet when he spoke to me in that way, his voice low and rough and erotic, his words coarse and crude, sexual and humiliating, I crumred inside. My knees got week and my pussy spasmed. It was like an injection of pure sexual desire into my veins. I did exactly as I was told. I couldn't do anything else. 
|
chrislebo
Member
Posts: 168016
|
"Then you'll like sex with her. Just relax, Patty. If it happens it happens. When it does, you'll know what to do. Just follow your heart." "What's it like? With women?" "Well speaking from my vast reservoir of a single experience, I'd say it's good. I mean it's an orgasm. Orgasms feel good." "If you say so. I can't remember, myself." "Well trust me on this one. She'll know what she's doing and she'll make you feel wonderful. I mean, there are other...well, physical aspects, like penetration, but there are appliances that can give you that same sensation." "No, I know that, but...I mean, what's it like?" I paused for a moment before speaking, then said, "It's a body, a human body. It's someone with skin and sweat and nerves that can feel good. It's someone who breathes, who cries, who hopes. And if it's someone you love – really, really love and who wants to be with you for you, because they love you and want you to feel good as much as you want them to feel good – then it will be wonderful." "I know I don't have that with Thomas. I know that's why our sex was terrible before we stopped having it. But you have that bond with Tim. You two adore each other. Why isn't your sex good?" "Ok, that's not all that's involved," I admitted. "You have to have that spark that you talked about. Let me ask you a question, and I need you to be honest. When you see Maria, do you think about jumping her bones?" She laughed. "I think about jumping her bones, her cartilage, her soft fleshy parts..." "Especially the soft fleshy parts." "Oh yeah." "And when you think about it, does it turn you on?" "Yeah...it does. I mean when I think about doing...you know, putting..." "Eating pussy?" "Yeah, that. When I think about that with just any woman, even like Angelina Jolie or someone who's just gorgeous, it doesn't do anything for me. It turns me on about as much as licking an envelope. But when I think about it with Maria...God. It makes my mouth water." "Because it's her." "Yeah, because it's her." "Then I think Saturday night, you're gonna have the best sex you've ever had." "Really?" "She's going to go nuts pleasing you and you're gonna go nuts pleasing her and yeah, it'll make steam shoot out of your ears." "It's not my ears I want steam to shoot out of." "It'll make steam shoot out of there too." We talked for another half an hour, mostly about her date, what she should wear, how she should act, all the stuff that when you're a teenager you just assume will get easier but never does, and by the time we were done she was calmer and more eager. I told her to call me sometime Sunday and tell me how it went; I didn't tell her, but I had a feeling that she might just be calling with a whole new perspective. The prospect of that made me incredibly happy – Patty is an absolute sweetheart who deserves so much better than the worthless husband she'd been saddled with, and if this was her finding someone who would treat her as well as she deserved then I was 100% for it. David found me later that evening when I was in the basement straightening things up. It was just him and I down there (Tim was upstairs in Laurel's room helping her with her homework as usual) and the stairs were notoriously creaky so there was no danger of us being surprised when he came up to me and pulled me in for a deep kiss. I let him kiss me (and it was a damned good kiss because he's a damned good kisser) but it didn't carry me away the way it would have just a day before because my period was done and my hormone levels were back to something approaching normalcy. I even managed to stop his hands when they got busy on my breasts; he laughed at me when I did and I know he thought I was being silly, but he let me have my way...for the moment. "So, ready for our big date tomorrow?" he asked, whispering the words into my neck as he kissed me there. "I guess," I said a little nervously. Now that I was thinking straight I was once again focusing on the dangers of this familiarity with my mister rather than the benefits. Nothing had changed about him being able to power me to his will, but I knew now that he didn't want me that way – he wanted me to come to him willingly and change into the kind of woman he wanted. I suppose I could have put my foot down and told him I didn't want to go and he probably would have let me get by with it. But this was him being nice, and given that I had experienced both him nice and him pissed off, I didn't want to piss him off. Besides, there were worse things in the world than dinner and dancing...even if the dinner and dancing were both very romantic and with your mister who wanted to screw your brains out. He knew my walls were up and I knew he was determined to get through them. I didn't even doubt that he'd eventually succeed in one way or another unless something happened in the mean time to redirect him. It was just a lot nicer, and a lot safer, having him slowly burrowing under those walls than ramming his way through them. "You guess? Mmm, such enthusiasm," he chuckled, brushing my hair off my face. "I have reservations for eight o'clock." "You know, I think your man might raise some questions about you and me leaving dressed up for a night on the town...especially in that dress you want me to wear. That thing exposes a lot more than it covers." He shrugged. "Let him." I shook my head firmly, but my voice was more pleading than I meant it to be when I said, "No, now don't be that way. He's your man and my husband and I love him very, very much." "In spite of the fact that he doesn't give you what you need?" "Yes, in spite of that." I took a fistful of his shirt and squeezed. "Please, David." I looked for a long heartbeat into my eyes, and once more I could see the cruelty there of the cat playing with the mouse and I feared he would say no – but then he broke into a broad smile and laughed. "Come on mom, you didn't really think I'd have dad see us like that, did you?" I managed a smile in return, but it was shaky, and he went on. "No, I have it figured out. I'll dress at a friend's house. You'll leave here about seven, dressed normal, and say you're going out with a couple of the gals." "In that slinky little red thing? He won't believe that." 
|
chrislebo
Member
Posts: 168016
|
"The slinky little red thing is already in the trunk of your car," he told me, kissing my nose with a smugness that was both charming and infuriating. "You'll find a place to change and meet me in the lot of the park and ride at Louisiana and 394 a little after 7:30. Dad and Laurel will probably be in bed by the time we get home, but just to be sure I'll get back an hour after you do. Satisfied?" I was, but I frowned. He'd put a lot of thought into this...and that meant he had something planned, which in turn meant I needed to be worried. "Seems like you think of everything." "I just want me and my girl to have a good time, that's all." I sighed. I could feel the control I'd had earlier, or thought I'd had, ebbing fast. Once more he was carrying me away faster than I could cope with the changes and it was scaring me. "You know I'm not your girl, no matter what. I'm always going to be your lady." He chuckled softly and kissed me on the forehead, then pulled me close. "You're both," he told me, his voice a soft basso rumble in his chest. "You just don't know it yet." I pulled away and muttered something about needing to do something upstairs. As I was hurrying for the staircase, David said, "And mom? Don't wear any panties underneath that dress, OK?" I sighed, but I nodded. May 23 Friday passed in a fog. For the first time in days I didn't wake up needfully horny, and for the first time in days poor Charlie didn't get any pussy. I was worried when I got out of bed, and I was even more worried by the time David gave me a surreptitious wink as he headed out the door. I kept busy all day long with various chores and errands, but my mind was barely on what I was doing. The thing is, what David had planned for me tonight, whatever it was, was an enormous step for us. I was sure he was planning to try to take us to some new physical level, and yes I was worried about that, but that was only a small part of it. I'd gotten used to him pushing me that way, just like I'd gotten accustomed to the idea that he would eventually get me in bed unless I figured some way to stop him (OK, somewhat accustomed to the idea). But this was different – this was public. It wasn't just that there was the chance that someone we knew might see us, although that chance existed; the Twin Cities have almost three million people in them and the odds of anyone you know being at a particular place across town at the same time you are remote. If someone did spot us, it would be...awkward, to say the least, but as long as he kept his hands from being really busy in public then it wouldn't be catastrophic. No, the thing was that this was David's way of pushing me from being his lady to being his girlfriend, or his lover, or whatever he thought of me as. See, up until now everything we'd done had been in the privacy of our own home. Yes he'd recorded some of it but as far as I knew he'd kept those recording to himself. But this would be taking it out into the wider world, with him treating me not as his lady but as a date, as a woman he wanted to relax with and doing so in a way that would push us toward that. Brandy said he liked to show his women off, and I knew that in that tiny dress with no underwear on, he would be showing me off indeed – and that would make me even more "his woman" than I already was, at least in his mind. The more of this kind of thing we did, the harder it would be to find a way to stop him going that last step with me and taking me to bed – if stopping him was even possible at this point, which I wasn't sure of. And besides that, there was another aspect of all this to consider. David had toyed with me more than once about doing something to me in such a way, or at such a time and place, that Tim would find out; there was a bare chance of me explaining my involvement with Charlie to my husband, but if he found out what I had done, and was still doing, with our mister... well... it wouldn't be pretty. So far David had been refrained from that and even passed it off as teasing, but I knew that he wasn't actually teasing. He did want Tim to find out, at least on some level. I knew it thrilled David to no end to realize that he could bring me to levels that his man, my husband, never even approached, and I knew that he would love to rub Tim's face in it – even if it meant the end of our family. Sometimes I thought he would love to do it even if it meant the end of me. Taking me out on dates, romancing me, doing things with me besides coercing me into sex – these were all things that would, to David, make me more his woman and less my husband's. And nothing whatsoever good could come of that. So...what? I could pretend to be sick, but I knew David wouldn't believe that, and it would only be postponing the inevitable. He had his head set that he was going to take me out on a date and show me off and so he would; at least this was it was something that I would, theoretically, enjoy. If I defied him or tried to wriggle out of it he might well decide to take me someplace I'd hate and truly humiliate me there, or worse. Yes there was the kernel of trust growing between us but I wasn't fool enough to believe that he could be reamisterable – not when my hormones weren't raging, that is. He was playing nice because I was playing along; if I pissed him off then he'd drag me kicking and screaming. So. I checked the trunk of my car and sure enough the dress and a pair of red hooker heels were there, just like he'd said. I hadn't actually looked at it since almost right after I bought it, and when I saw it again I was shocked at how tiny it was. It had long, full sleeves, but that was the only modest thing about it. It was cut to cling to the body in the same way paint clings to a house. Down below it would come down to maybe, maybe five inches below my ass, such that I was going to need to be extremely careful when I moved or I would show the whole world my lady bits. But worse than that was the top – it had a huge plunging oval neckline that would, I hoped, cover my nipples, but there was no way it covered much more than that. To add insult to injury, the neckline was a sort of halter thing that was held closed by a metal oval, and below it was another oval cutout that would come down below my navel – and incidentally show the sides and bottoms of my tits. A flat-chested girl wouldn't look so conspicuous in it, but I'd stand out a mile... so to speak. And any sudden movement and I'd pop out of it like a stripper out of a cake. He was definitely planning to show me off. As the day wore on I kept getting more and more nervous so that by the time Laurel came home I was a wreck. She asked me what was going on and I gave her some babble about Patty being in trouble in her marriage, which was true but irrelevant. Tim got home a bit later than usual, especially for a Friday, but he kissed me on the cheek and told me to have a good time, assuring me that he and Laurel could entertain each other while I was out. Part of me wanted him to irrationally forbid me to go out that night, but of course it didn't happen, and I went out just as my mister planned. 
|
chrislebo
Member
Posts: 168016
|
I changed my clothes in the bathroom of a McDonalds and did my makeup in the mirror there. I did make myself look as good as I could, but I was nervous enough that I wasn't sure how good I actually wound up looking. I was trembling as I headed for the meeting with David and so distracted I very nearly sideswiped a minivan; it heeled over hard to get out of my way and the driver, a woman about by age, made a very rude gesture that I deserved. By the time I got to the parking lot where I was meeting David, I was a wreck. His car was there, and I pulled up next to him. My hands were shaking as I turned off the ignition, but by then David was at my door. He was wearing a suit – a new one, not one that I'd even seen before – that made him look at least 23 or 24 years old...and not only that, made him look devilishly handsome. It was dark gray and cut immaculately, and he had a white handkerchief in the coat pocket. His black shoes were shined like onyx. He was wearing a sharply pressed robin's egg blue shirt and a white and black tie that looked fabulous. He opened my door like a gentleman and offered me his hand with a smile on his face. I just stared at him, too shaken to rise, but after a moment he gently took my hand and guided me to my feet. "Well," he said softly, looking at me with adoring eyes, "You look... amazing, mom. You really do. You're gorgeous." "Th-thank you," I stammered. "Um...so are you..." He laughed. "Oh, you like the suit? It's Armani." I goggled. "Where did you get the money for an Armani suit?" His smile was conspiratorial. "The money wouldn't have been a problem – it was on sale – but I didn't buy it. Grandpa Sievertsen did." My goggle got gogglier. "My FATHER bought you that suit?" He laughed as my astonishment. "I told him I needed some advice on wooing a slightly older woman of refinement and taste." "I can't believe this." "And he said that I needed to dress sharp if I wanted to get the attention of such a woman. He took me shopping and bought me this suit." I felt my world spinning and demanded, "My FATHER bought my SON a suit to help my SON seduce his MOTHER, my FATHER's DAUGHTER?" David's smirk would have been infuriating if I hadn't been so dizzy. "That's the size of it, yes." I made a couple of incomprehensible sounds, then asked, "Did you tell him who your date was with?" "Somehow that slipped my mind," David replied dryly. "He was all for me trying to bang a 35 year old woman, but I think he wouldn't have liked it so much if he knew it was you." "I don't believe this. I just don't believe this." David leaned in and whispered, "He also gave me some great advice on how to get you in the mood." My eyes clenched tightly shut and I hoped the ground would split open and drop me into a deep, dark place. Instead, what happened was David gently took my keys from me, guided me around to the passenger side and seated me, then climbed behind the wheel. In moments we were heading toward downtown Minneapolis, its tall towers glittering in the late-evening sun. The silence seemed oppressive to me, though my mister didn't seem bothered by it in the least. After a few minutes he said, "It's going to be a beautiful night. Warm, clear, a little breeze..." "Good," I returned, my voice tight and clipped. At least that way I wouldn't freeze in this ludicrously revealing dress. That was something. He smiled and took my hand in his. "Mom, relax. This is dinner and dancing. That's it. We're just going to go have a good time. How fresh can I get in a crowded nightclub?" "I don't know. How fresh can you get in a crowded nightclub?" He laughed. "Well I guess we'll find out, won't we? But I want you to have a good time, all right?" "All right." It wasn't. We crossed the Mississppi and turned into the area just across the river from downtown. It's always been an intriguing area for me because it's a mix of so many different things: business and professional, upscale and poor, art galleries and dive bars, neighborhood places that had been there for 50 years and dance clubs that had just sprung up in the last month to cater to students at the nearby University of Minnesota. It had always seemed to me the sort of place where anything might happen...and now, tonight, something would. I just didn't know what." We pulled up in front of Sophie's. It had a huge silver awning and it looked exactly like something out of a 1930s movie about glamorous people in New York doing glamorous things. The red-suited valet opened my door (and got a major league eyeful when I navigated my way out of the car in that dress – well you try keeping your pussy covered when you're not wearing panties under a tiny skirt!) and in a moment I was walking into the place on David's arm, looking for all the world like a hot to trot sugar momma and her new boy toy. It was like walking into an old film. The big black wooden doors opened before us and suddenly we were in a world of elegance and sophistication like I'd never seen. There were men in suits and tuxedoes, women in evening gowns and pearls, tables with white cloths down to the floor, and a band in white tuxedoes playing "Bei Mir Bist Du Schoen." A small dance floor was in front of the band, one that could fit two couples comfortably and three with difficulty; at the moment there were two couples there, one in their thirties and another silver-haired pair in their 60s that looked like they belonged in a Viagra commercial – a fit, dashing man and an elegant, laughing lady. I loved the place in an instant. The Maitre d' was at the front, and he grinned when he saw David. "Hey Dave, how ya doing?" I arched an eyebrow – David hated being called "Dave." But my mister didn't seem to mind this time, as he pumped the man's hand and said, "Good, Ron, good. Thanks for getting us in tonight." "No problem," Ron replied, turning to me with a smile. "And this must be the lady you talked about. Dave, you're a liar. You said she was gorgeous, but you underestimated." I blushed a bit and laughed. "Well, it's good to know he speaks highly of me, anyway." "Not as highly as you deserve, Angela," Ron replied. Apparently my mister had mentioned my first name...I just hoped he hadn't mentioned my last. "And we have the best table in the whole place set aside for you – close to the dance floor, romantically isolated. I think you'll love it. Enjoy your dinner." Ron passed us off to a 30-ish waiter who was very pretty and very gay. The waiter led us across the room, me still on my mister's arm and feeling my head still spinning. I noticed more than a few eyes on me, but I didn't flatter myself that it was because I was the most gorgeous creature in the room. No, it was because of the dress I was almost wearing. It was the skimpiest thing any woman in the place had on. It wouldn't have raised an eyebrow in, say, one of the dance clubs in the middle of downtown, but this was the sort of place that tended toward gowns. I was as red as a beet by the time we got to our table and the waiter seated us. At least Ron had been right about the table being romantic and isolated – we were by a wall, maybe six steps from the dance floor, and almost concealed behind a couple of tall plants. Back here, we could do everything but fuck and nobody would notice a thing. Undoubtedly David had been very specific about which table he wanted. 
|
chrislebo
Member
Posts: 168016
|
David looked around with a smile. "Wow! This is quite a place. I keep expecting to see Cary Grant popping around the corner." "It's pretty amazing, yes," I admitted. The waiter asked if we wanted to start off with a take and David asked for champagne – actually he asked specifically for a 1996 Bollinger Grande Annee Rose. When the waiter had gone, I said, "Well that sounded impressive. Is that a good wine?" David shot me a grin. "That's what Ron told me to get. He said it would knock your socks off." I doubted it was my socks that David wanted to knock off – and what he wanted would be easier to get because of the champagne, because champagne goes straight to my head like nothing else in the world. I'm not a takeer as a rule and so I'm a terrible lightweight, but even so champagne does things to be. I get a solid buzz on after half a glass... so I'd need to be careful. "Well, I like champagne, so if it's good I'll love it, I'm sure. But I still don't think you ought to be takeing." David just shook his head; his smile didn't budge. "Don't fight the small fights, mom. Did you know that even Laurel gets takes once in a while?" I gaped. "She does not!" "Well, I exaggerate," he admitted. "But I have it on good authority that she was plenty tipsy off wine coolers at that relaxover she did at Melissa Hardy's house last month." "Really?" "Truly." "I...didn't know that." "There's probably a lot you don't know about her," David laughed. "And about me too. But tonight I don't want to talk about anything that would put a frown on your face. Tonight is about you having a great time. OK?" I nodded, but I was still very tense. "I...um... I didn't know you danced. Like this, I mean." "Well, I've been taking lesmisters. A gal I know is a dance instructor at the University, she's been teaching me." "Uh huh. And how have you been paying for your lesmisters?" His grin got devilish again. He leaned in conspiratorially and whispered, "With my Christmas money." I had to laugh at that. "I assumed it was... oh, a barter arrangement." "Mmm, no, I offered but she told me she can't spend that and she needs to make her rent every month," he replied with a laugh. "I gotta say, it stung my pride." Just then the band ended the misterg and David asked, "Would you like to dance?" I blushed again. "I don't think I can in this, David. I mean... I'm one sudden movement away from being naked." "I tell you what," he said. "We'll wait for a slow number...one without a lot of sudden movements...and then we'll get up there. I'm proud of my dancing, and I know you're proud of yours. I bet we wow them." "There will be wows when my tits pop out of this dress," I muttered. But I knew that he wanted to dance with me tonight and I also knew that he would eventually get me up there so I simply resigned myself to the fact and looked around at all the pretty people in their pretty outfits. The band started up with "Brazil," and I was instantly glad I wasn't up there dancing to that. The way my hips would move to it, my hemline would be up over my ass in no time. We made some idle and (for me at least) uncomfortable chitchat for a few minutes until the waiter returned with our champagne. I admit I don't know much about wines, but the label made this one look expensive. My mind wet over, once again, the various unpleasant means by which my mister might be getting the money to afford all of this, but I had to let that thought go – it was too damned depressing. The cork popped and in a moment David was holding up his glass in a toast. "To us," he said, "and to tonight, and the wonderful time we're going to have." I lifted my glass and clinked it against his, though I wasn't sure I was going to have a wonderful time. I sipped the champagne...and it was like nothing else I'd ever tasted. It exploded into my mouth with a taste of rose petals, but by the time I swallowed that first sip there was a sharp nutty flavor; a few seconds later I was tasting tart fruitiness. I'm not a wine connoisseur and I usually laugh when people talk about all the different flavors in a mouthful of wine...but this was spectacular. It was like candy, and before I knew it I had a second, larger taste of it. "This is good, isn't it?" David asked after a sip of his own. "Yes it is," I replied, and I couldn't help but smile. I already felt the first of my buzz coming on; it was going to be a losing fight to stay sober. "I know I'm going to regret asking this, but what do you usually take?" "I'm not a big takeer, really. I mean at a party I'll have a beer or a couple of shots, but I'm not out there leading the pack and getting stinking takes. I like to stay in control." The giddiness of the champagne was hitting me now, just around the edges, and I couldn't help but quirk an eyebrow. "I'll bet you do," I said, and it came out more teasing than I wanted it to. "What about... other things?" "Other things?" He laughed. "Oh, you heard the rumors. Laurel told you, I suppose." "About you selling? Yes." "I do sell some," he admitted. "I figure if I don't someone else will, so why shouldn't the suckers' money be on my hip? But the only thing I ever take is Ecstasy, when I'm at a dance or something. And I don't even usually do that. I think I'm a lot soberer than you think I am." "Maybe. But I wish you wouldn't do it. Any of it. You're my mister and I worry about you, even though..." "Even though I'm a cuckolds browniehead?" he supplied. "Even though you're a cuckolds browniehead," I agreed. He locked eyes with me and asked, "Do you want me to stop?" "Of course I do." "Then ask me." There was electricity between us, and it was growing with every heartbeat. I looked at his face and wondered if those angel-eyes could be trusted to keep any promise they made. He had lied before and would, I was sure, lie again. But this was also an important moment, something that could, if he kept his word, turn him from an awful, dangerous, and unproductive path and onto one that was much better for him. And so, eyes still on his, I said, softly, "David, I want you to stop selling haves. Will you do that for me?" "Yes," he said without hesitation and without flinching. "I love you. I'll do that for you." I smiled, and he smiled, and suddenly I felt very close to him. Whether he would keep that promise or not I didn't know, but he had made it and he gave me the chance to hope. Even if it turned out to be a lie, it was a chance worth taking. It was around then that the waiter brought our menus, and just like any good French restaurant, I gained weight just by reading what they served. In the end (over a little more champagne) I decided to go with the coq au vin (much to David's amusement at my "wanting cock") while David ordered grilled salmon. As the waiter went away with our orders, the band was just finishing with a misterg and David made significant eyes at the dance floor. "Well?" The champagne had lubricated me just enough that I could face the possibility without quailing and I nodded. "Fine, but let's go up there and ask for a slow number." He nodded and smiled as he stood and took my hand. I followed him onto the floor just as the other couples were leaving (the floor was small enough that nobody was staying for more than one or two dances). I know that there were eyes on me because of my dress, and I felt myself blushing a bit, but I did my best to ignore them. I didn't want to get embarrassed and screw up, which would make me more embarrassed, etc., so I tried to relax as David whispered a few words I didn't hear to the bandleader. The man nodded, and David got back to me just as we were joined by another couple. "What did you ask him for?" I asked, but at that moment the music began and answered my question. It was "Stardust." 
|
chrislebo
Member
Posts: 168016
|
I have to tell you now that, for my money, "Stardust" is the most romantic misterg ever written. When I was a little girl I remember sitting up in my grandparents' attic with their old record player, playing 78s of old mistergs. Sometimes Sue and I would dance to them – we didn't know what we were doing, just aping old movies, but those times imbued me with a love of big band music that has lasted to this day. And back then my favorite record of all was a Harry James version of "Stardust." I used to play it over and over and wish that someone, sometime, would feel that kind of undying love for me. It inspired ten thousand foolish schoolgirl fantasies, and even today when I hear it I get weak in the knees. Tim knew that, of course, but the look on my face was one of amazement as I slid into David's arms and began to move very slowly to the music. Softly I whispered, "How did you know?" His reply was to smile lovingly, place his mouth next to my ear, and begin to sing: "And now the purple dusk of twilight time "Steals across the meadows of my mind "High up in the sky the little stars climb "Reminding me that we're apart..." He didn't just know my favorite misterg – he knew the lyrics. I melted in his arms like butter, and from that moment any resistance that I might have put up that night was brushed aside. It was one of the most perfectly romantic things that has ever happened to me. David's singing voice is best forgotten, but here, whispered softly, it was like an angel. I'd have stood a better chance of resisting an avalanche than my mister at that point. Yes the ***** had something to do with it, but this was the sort of completely loving gesture I had longed for since I was a little girl, and now I was getting it in the arms of my own mister. A glamorous nightclub, fine wine, dancing to my favorite misterg, being sung to while in the arms of a strong, handsome young man...what more could I have asked for? "Sometimes I wonder why I spend the lonely nights "Dreaming of a misterg "The melody haunts my reverie "And I am once again with you..." I hadn't danced this way nearly as much as I wanted to, but the steps came back to me as David led. I don't know if my feet touched the floor or not, as clichéd as that is to say. I felt like I was dancing in the sky far above. And David led me perfectly, taking me where I needed to go. I placed my head against his chest and beamed a satisfied, contented smile that the whole place saw. This was what I'd always wanted and finally I was getting it. For tonight I didn't need to think why I was getting it, or from whom. Tonight I could just be glad...as long as I kept it from going too far. "Though I dream in vain "In my heart you will remain "My stardust melody "A memory of love's refrain." The last chord was still hanging in the air when I lifted my mouth to David's, there on the dance floor, and gave him a long, deep kiss. I knew that we were being watched. I knew everyone there was seeing me suck my mister's tongue and press my barely-clad body into his, but I didn't give a damn. To me they weren't even there. This was my dream come true and David had made it happen. The only people in the whole place were the two of us, and I kissed him that way. My arms were around his neck, my body melded to his, our breath one breath. Even if the evening had ended then and there, it would have been worth it. Back at our table a moment later, I had his hands in mine and I was glowing. "David, that was... that was amazing. Really it was. Thank you so much." "You like it?" "I loved it. Honestly." "Do I get another kiss?" He did, and this time he slipped his hand inside my dress and rolled my left nipple between his fingers. The table was secluded behind plants so nobody saw it, but at that instant I doubt I would have stopped him if we had an audience. It felt fantastic, my hard nipple sending marvelous sensations through me, and I sucked his tongue like a cock. I had a little more champagne – more than a little more – and two mistergs later we were back out on the floor to "You Are My Lucky Star," my head nestled shamelessly into David's shoulder and his hands two inches north of my ass. Midway through the dance his cock began to stir against my belly, getting semi-hard, and I just smiled and pressed myself closer to him. I realized that I was more than a little takes by this point – I'd had two glasses of champagne on an empty stomach – and I knew that my mister was seducing me, but there was no fight in me right now, not anymore. I was too busy enjoying myself – and I was too takes. Shortly after we got back to the table our food arrived. I welcomed it because I needed to get some food into my stomach before I pitched over face first. Plus, it was amazing food. David was in a wonderful mood and so was I; we were laughing and joking, both of us relaxed and happy. He "Mmmmmed" when he tried his salmon, then cut off a piece and held it out to me on his fork for me to try; I locked eyes with him as I took it into my mouth, and as the moment hung there I realized that the fish wasn't the only thing of his I'd be putting in my mouth tonight. I was horny, he was horny, we were having a fantastic time...and hell, I'd already sucked his cock and loved it, so why shouldn't I do it again? Yes I know there were a million reamisters why not, but I was too takes and too carried away to think much about them. I know this all must make me look like a complete wishy-washy ditz. First I don't want it, then I do. I'm fighting to keep him out of my panties and then I'm thinking how nice it would be to get him in. I'm miserable about going on a public date with him and then I'm having a great time. All I can say is that if it seems that way to you, have pity on me because it was a thousand times worse living it than reading it. When I was calm, sober and not hormonally supercharged I knew – I KNEW – that I needed to stop this ride, to keep this from going too far, to control David and defuse the situation in a way that would keep him from destroying me and my family. I knew it. It wasn't a question, there was no debate. I worried about it, I thought about it constantly, I lost relax over it. I didn't want to do anything with him. I wanted things back the way they had been before he caught me with Charlie. I wanted him as a mister and nothing else. The problem was that David knew that. He was completely aware that I felt that way, and more than that he was aware of what he needed to do to get past it. He knew to wait for my period when I was too horny to say no. He knew how to use words and emotions to twist me like a blade of grass between his fingers. He knew to take me on the most romantic date of my life, fulfill my girlhood dreams and get me takes. He knew me. That was it, really. He knew me better than I knew myself. He had spent his whole life studying me, thinking about me, fantasizing how he would make me his. When he got the chance he already knew what to say, how to act, what to do. How many times had he masturbated thinking about this date since he was 10 years old? How many little signs had he picked up from me that told him what I wanted and needed? He was a student and I was his topic – and he'd learned very, very well. 
|
chrislebo
Member
Posts: 168016
|
I, on the other hand, had spent my whole adult life avoiding learning anything about myself. I had buried myself in a marriage that left me physically dead. I had pretended I didn't need sex, didn't need passion or love or the thrill of connecting with someone at a soul-deep level. I had pretended I wasn't a human being with human needs, and for a long time I had gotten away with it. But David knew better. David always knew better, and he never stopped thinking about it, planning and wondering and observing. And so now, when I found out how wrong I had been the whole time, David was there ahead of me. He knew that I was like a young, unformed clay, and he knew that he had the chance to form me into the woman he wanted me to be. All I knew was that I had to fight him, but I had no idea how. It was never a fair fight. And so when he wasn't there, when I was level and "me" I didn't want him; as soon as he started to punch my buttons then all that levelheadedness and logic fell away. It's not a good explanation for everything that had happened so far and everything that would happen in the future, but it was the only one I had. Also, I was pretty takes. And so I ate off his fork and he ate off of mine and we shared a magnificent dinner. We talked and we laughed, we leaned in to whisper to each other and we smiled at the growing desire in each other's eyes. He ogled my cleavage (to be fair, that dress didn't show cleavage, it showed canyon) and I positioned myself to give him a good view. We played footsie under the table and I ran my foot up much farther than any lady ought to with her mister... all the way up, in fact, so that my toes teased his raging erection. He gave me a devilish and delighted grin when he felt that, and shifted in his chair so I could stroke his length with my foot. "Like what you feel?" he asked. I did my best to look innocent. "What do you mean?" His hand went beneath the table and unzipped, and then I felt the warm, smooth flesh of his magnificent cock against my foot. "Now do you like what you feel?" I giggled. "Oh, that. Yes, I like it very much." "Well thanks, I'm fond of it too." I took another bite of my food. It had been delicious, but I was getting full and so now I was mostly pushing the food around the plate. "I'll bet you are. It's something to be proud of." "If you keep playing with it, you just might make a mess." "Oh no," I replied, eyes wide. "Well maybe I should stop." "I didn't say that." "No you didn't, did you? Hmm...you know, I think I have a solution to this dilemma." "Really?" he asked, arching an eyebrow. "Do tell." I didn't tell. Instead I took one last look around to make sure that the table was as secluded as I thought it was and, finding that it was so, I "accidentally" dropped my napkin on the floor and bent to retrieve it. Except I kept bending right out of the chair and onto my hands and knees. The tablecloth was elegantly long and concealed me nicely as I slipped beneath it. "Mom," he said delightedly. "You naughty little whore!" I giggled again and crawled to him. My hands were on his thighs, stroking them, and his cock was enormous and right in front of my face. It had been a while since I had seen it this close and once more I was thrilled with how perfectly it matched my ideal of the male member: very thick, a little longer than average, straight, velvety smooth and utterly gorgeous to look at. "Mmmmm," I said as I wrapped my fingers around it and felt its solidity and heat, "tell me again what kind of girl I am..." "You're a slut," he said softly as he eased back in his chair a little more and slipped a hand beneath the tablecloth to stroke my cheek. "You're a cocksucking cumwhore who's about to take her mister's prick in her mouth in the middle of a restaurant and you love it." "Mmm-hmmmm," I agreed as I stuck my tongue out and ran it along the length of his shaft from the base to the tip. Hearing him demean me like that while doing something so crazy and wrong sent shivers into my pussy. I had never done anything even remotely like this, not even when I was an irresponsible kid. And yet here I was, on my hands and knees under a table for my own flesh and red – and he was right because I did love it. At that moment I loved it more than anything else I could imagine. *The only thing that could make it better,* I thought as I slipped my lips around the head and sucked gently, hollowing my cheeks and running my tongue over the tip, *is if Charlie were here fucking me while I did it.* David groaned softly and cradled the back of my head. Unlike last time he wouldn't be able to fuck my mouth. This time I was in control, completely and utterly, and it was up to me to give him the best blowjob I could manage. I figured I was up to the task, and to prove it I took four inches of his cock into my mouth, swirling my tongue around it and tasting the salty, wonderful precum that oozed out. "God yes you slut, you whore, you fucking dirty little cunt," David hissed emphatically. "Suck your mister's cock like the good little tramp you are. Suck the cum right out of my balls!" His words made me as hot as a blast furnace and I swallowed him to the root, taking him in to that he hit the back of my throat. Once more I gagged a bit at the feeling but that didn't stop me or even slow me down. My tongue was swirling, whirling, dancing along his shaft and I could feel how hot I was making him. His hand was trembling as he grabbed a handful of my hair and clenched tight and I knew this would be a situation so erotic that he wouldn't last long. I sucked him as deep as I could take him, held him there while my cheeks caressed and my tongue moved, and then slowly, slowly let him back out again until just the tip was in my mouth and I could run the point of my tongue up underneath it. What, I wondered, would all of the finely-dressed people in this club say if they knew the blonde cougar in the tiny red dress was underneath her table sucking her boy-toy's cock? They probably wouldn't have been surprised, I thought. But what would they say if they knew that the blonde mom in the tiny red dress was under the table slurping her 17 year old mister's cock like it was a popsicle on a hot day? Hmmm...they'd almost certainly call the cops. And that was when I discovered, from the shiver of delight that started at my hairline and ran through my body like current from a live wire, that the danger of it made me hot. I didn't expect that. I'd never done anything in public and never been on the edge of getting caught, and so I'd never experienced anything but safe (in that sense, anyway) sex. But this was nothing like safe. This was crazy. This was right on the edge. This could get me arrested. This could ruin my life. This made me so hot that I couldn't help but slip my hand down, tug up the tiny skirt, and put my finger on my clit. My pussy was so wet it was dripping, my moisture running down my thighs. I could be caught! I could be exposed! I could come so damned easily. 
|
chrislebo
Member
Posts: 168016
|
I mentioned that the area the club was in is eclectic and interesting, and it's especially so on pleasant evenings. Several bars have outside tables and the activity tends to spill out onto the street, with little groups of young people talking and laughing and takeing beer right in the middle of the road. On the other side is the Mississippi, black and without memory at night, and across it the lights of downtown Minneapolis throwing their reflections onto the water. It was the perfect place for a walk at night, and as I stepped out onto the street I realized I didn't want the night to end yet. It had been romantic, gentle, erotic, funny, bright and so very, very fun that all I could think was that I wanted it to continue for a while. So when David turned toward the valet I stopped him and tugged on his hand. "Let's walk for a little bit," I told him with a smile. "It's beautiful tonight." David's handsome face lit up with a quiet joy as his eyes rested on me. "Yeah...yeah you are beautiful tonight. Come on." We walked then, me nestled into the crook of his shoulder, feeling the breeze, hearing laughter and music from the bars and the distant rumble of traffic. As we walked I watched the lights of downtown shimmer and sparkle on the water that would flow the breadth of a continent and I felt purely and simply content. I don't even really remember what I thought as we walked, my body against my mister's. I know we made small talk, pleasant chitchat that was only meaningful for the feelings of completeness it gave us. We passed a few bars – one where a band was playing some loud Lynyrd Skynyrd cover, another that was blaring some top 40 misterg I didn't know, another that gave forth the sounds of soulful blues – and finally we came to a spot where there were a few stone and concrete benches and a little overlook that gave a perfect view of downtown. A young couple was already sitting on one of the benches and I wanted to give them their privacy so I drew David over to the wall by the river and leaned on the stones, gazing out at the Mississippi's flow. David gently brushed my hair back from my face and I smiled. Neither one of us spoke for a while, until finally I said, "Thank you. This was a magical night, David. I'll never forget it." "I'm glad you liked it, and I'm glad you came." "I'm glad you made me come." His arm settled around my waist. "I thought you were going to turn me down for a while," he admitted, his hand playing along my side. "I hoped you wouldn't, but..." I stood up and faced him, laying a hand on his chest and looking into his eyes. Softly, I whispered, "It was a good first date." "First? Does that mean there will be a second?" I put my forehead into his chest. "Oh, David. I've never been treated like this in my life. I thought nights like this just happened in old movies and silly novels. It's crazy that it took my mister to give me a night like this, but...but I don't know if anyone else could have. I don't think anyone knows me as well as you do – nobody who'd care to do this, anyway. You made me feel so special. You made me feel so loved." "I do love you, mom." "I know, baby. I love you." "Kiss me?" My answer was a kiss. There, in the dark, by the river, with the scent of night flowers on the May breeze and the sound of laughter in the air, I kissed my mister without reservation or hesitation. There was passion in the kiss, but there was so much more than that too. There was respect, love, adoration, gratefulness, happiness, all of it swirling together to make one wonderful emotion I didn't have a name for but which I wanted again and again, endlessly. And when the kiss was done, David stood smiling down at me and said, "Mom, I want to make you come." "I would like that, David," I said instantly and without a trace of shame. "I'd like that very much. Come on, let's go back to the car." "No. Here." I laughed and looked around. The young couple was 15 feet away and lost in their own whispered conversation but there was no way they'd miss us fooling around. And beside that, we were right by an active street with a stream of pedestrians and cars, and there were several knots of people in plain sight. "Here? That's silly, David." "So I'm silly," he replied with a throaty chuckle, maneuvering me so my back was to the low stone wall and his hands were under the jacket, on my breasts. "I want to sit you right up on this wall and put my mouth on you. I want to suck you and lick you and put my fingers in you until you come screaming." "David," I whispered, a hand on his arm as he reached down and began to pull up the hem of my dress, "this is crazy. Let's go someplace more private." "I don't want it private," he told me, putting his hands on my ass and lifting me up to sit on the wall. I didn't fight him. "I want it right here, right in front of everyone. I want people to see how much I love you. I want people to see that I can make you feel wonderful. I want you to open yourself to me, mom. I want you to open yourself to this. I want you to want it." "David..." "I want you to want it, mom. Do you want it?" I paused for what felt like a lifetime but must only have been a couple of seconds, and then breathed a single word: "Yes." My mister didn't give me time to reconsider. He was there, arms around me, lips on my neck and then further down. I tilted my head back to let him do what he would to me and closed my eyes. I knew that what he was about to do to me might well draw a crowd. I'd be lying if I said I didn't find the idea suddenly and perversely appealing: a crowd of strangers watching me being pleasured in public by a handsome young man – even if they didn't know it was my mister – was curiously and unexpectedly thrilling. But the part of me that liked the idea was overwhelmed, for the moment at least, by the part of me that didn't have the courage to watch the crowd gather... or watch David do what he was about to do, for that matter. Yes, I wanted an orgasm, and yes I wanted David to give it to me, but this was giving him permission to touch me in a deeper, more intimate way than I had allowed so far. It was yet another of my lines that he was stepping across, with my help. It was yet more danger. My breasts came free of my dress with a tug of fabric and then his mouth was on them. I gasped as he closed his teeth around my right nipple, biting it softly even as his fingers twisted and danced over my left. Once again David wasn't merely my mister, but also a tremendously s*******ed and talented young man who knew how to make a woman – even his lady – tremble with delight. I arched my back and pushed my breasts to him and he did what he was so very good at. His tongue caressed, his lips sucked, his fingers pinched and tugged. He went from my right breast to my left and back, kissing, suckling, making me moan and clutch at his back with shaking hands. When his mouth was on my nipple it was warm, wet, glowing with sensation like an ember from a fire – and when his mouth would leave to go to the other, the gentle night breeze would cool it like a sudden application of ice, sending the most delightful shivers down my spine. "I love your tits," David murmured, and his adoration brought a lascivious grin to my face. I knew it was wrong for my mister to love me this way (and touch me this way) but it felt so good to have a man, any man, think of me as the sexy, hot, fuckable woman he saw in me! He made me feel attractive, like I deserved to have men want me, and I couldn't help but love him for it. It was just so damned flattering, even if it was perverted and sick. He pushed toward me and I shifted my weight, sensing what he was about to do. My legs came open of their own accord and he was there, his trim hips between my thighs...and then he was moving down. He left my breasts exposed and it didn't even occur to me to cover them as he began to kiss and lick his way down, down, over the swath of stomach left bare by my miniscule dress. His tongue felt like it was electrified, because everyplace it touched tingled and shivered even after his tongue moved on. By the time he reached my navel I was almost weeping with lust. What he was doing felt so incredibly good! I had no idea if we had drawn a crowd (I still had my eyes closed as tight as I could get them) but just the chance that we could was adding spice to what we were doing. Were there people watching? Did they see how eager I was for what was coming? Did they see how eager David was to do it? The possibilities swirled in my lust-fogged brain and made me wetter and needier than I already was. 
|
chrislebo
Member
Posts: 168016
|
David put his arm around me and I looked up into his sweet, handsome face. I could see it gleamed still with my juices, and that gave me an odd and completely unexpected feeling of closeness with him. We had shared something here, something wonderful, a beautiful secret that we would both always remember. It was like a gift we had given each other. A couple of the guys (takesen frat types) slapped David on the shoulder, and a couple of the gals eyed me enviously, but we didn't talk to any of them. In fact we didn't talk at all as David steered me on my wobbly legs, his arm around my waist, back out onto the road and toward the club where the valet would fetch our car. We walked together, me in his coat and feeling mellow and contented and him with his arm around me, strong and powerful. I loved him so much right then that I didn't have words for it. I still don't. After about a block, he asked, "So?" "So?" "So...did you like it?" My tone was teasing as I said, "Oh, it wasn't bad." "Oh, not bad huh?" "Nope." He mulled that over for a moment, then replied, "Well I guess I don't have to do it again if you didn't like it." "I didn't say I didn't like it," I said innocently. "I mean, you're no Charlie..." He laughed then, a good-natured sound that echoed off the darkened buildings lining the street and came back to us. "Well, I don't have an eight-inch tongue." "No you don't." I paused, then added mischievously, "You've got an eight-inch something else, though." He laughed again and snugged me into the crook of his shoulder. We didn't speak again until we got back to the valet and were waiting for my car. Then I heard the strain of music drifting from inside the club and the whole evening came back to me in a beautiful rush. I squeezed my mister's hand and said, simply, "Thank you." He beamed. "You're welcome, mom. Thank you." The drive back to the park and ride where David had left his car went quickly and wonderfully. We didn't say much, as I think both of us were lost in our own thoughts, but what we did say was quiet and comfortable and natural. I felt no shame for what had happened, either for what I'd done or for what I'd let David do to me. It had been the perfect night, and I was incapable of regretting a single thing about it. David parked next to his car and waited while I quickly changed back into the clothes I'd left the house in. He grinned at my nudity, and it struck me that I didn't feel self-conscious in the least about stripping in what was, after all, a public place. Yes there was no one around and no one saw me, but still...public place. A few weeks before I'd have been mortified; now I didn't think twice. David stepped up to me when I had changed and put his arms around me. We shared one last kiss for the night, a long, lingering, sweet, loving kiss in the starlight. It didn't need words and none were spoken. I brushed my fingertips over his cheek, got in my car and drove home. The house was dark when I got there; it was after midnight and no doubt both my husband and flower were long in bed. Charlie, faithful companion, was there at the door to greet me by stuffing his nose into my crotch and smelling the remains of my arousal. I petted him in the dark and let him sniff me, then took him out and let him run in the yard before we both headed up to bed. Tim was arelax when I opened the door. I needed a shower but I was quiet so as not to wake him. Ten minutes later I was in an oversized relaxing tee; I suddenly felt exhausted, but it was the sort of happy exhaustion that can only come from great things. As I lay down next to my relaxing husband I had a smile on my face. My whole body was still tingling with the joy of the evening, and even the cynic in me had to admit that David hadn't just shown me a good time, he had shown me a wonderful time. The last thought I remember before drifting off to relax was that maybe, just maybe, David had really turned over a new leaf. Maybe he had realized that he didn't need to be harsh and cruel to get what he wanted, and not just with me. Maybe he had actually become a better permister. Once more I was allowing myself to think of him taking me to bed without finding it repulsive or even objectionable. I was even starting to think of ways that an affair with my own mister could actually be good for both of us instead of poimisterous to me and to the household. Less than a week later David coldly and deliberately did something that threatened to destroy my family as completely as anything ever could. 
|
paradoxical_001
Member
Posts: 120
|
Loving this story! Please tell me there are many more chapters! Great job on this thread. Keep up the good work!
|
chrislebo
Member
Posts: 168016
|
Merci paradoxial_001
|
chrislebo
Member
Posts: 168016
|
The hyperlink is visible to registered members only!Chapter Seven May 24 I woke up with a smile on my face that would have made the Cheshire Cat look dour. I felt amazing – and I do mean amazing. I was still buzzing over my date with David; it had been the single best evening of my whole life and my body was still tingling. I laid alone in bed for a while (Tim was long gone to the club and his regular Saturday working lunch) and replayed the whole night in my mind, grinning and feeling wonderful, appreciated and loved. My mister had swept me off my feet the night before and he hadn't set me back down yet. In those soft, secret moments by myself, I found myself hoping, just a little, that he never would. But nature called, as nature always does, and I had to take another longer, better shower than the one I'd allowed myself the night before. I took a luxurious shower and washed my hair, shaved what needed shaving, and when I got out I slipped into a comfortable old denim skirt and baggy, faded tee that knew me like an old friend. I smiled at my reflection in the mirror; this was the best I'd felt in a long time. And I had David to thank. Charlie had heard me bumping around in the bedroom and he was there to greet me when I opened the door, his tail whapping hard against the wall and his head seeking my hands for a good petting. I informed him with great seriousness that he was "a good boy oh yes you is aren't you yes you is such a good boy oh yes oh yes oh yes!" and he seemed to agree with the assessment, prancing and hopping around with delight at my baby talk and then racing to the head of the stairs, only pausing to look over his shoulder to make sure I was following him. I was, but along the way I decided I'd poke my head in David's room and see if he was awake. If he was, he deserved a real, grateful thank you for what he had done to me. I knocked softly and, when I got no answer, I eased the door open a crack and peeked inside. His bed was empty (and unmade, but don't get me started). Downstairs I found Laurel in the living room playing Xbox. "Hey mom," she called out without looking up when she heard me on the stairs. "Have fun last night?" "Mmm-hmmm, had a great time," I chirped. "How about you?" "Oh yeah, daddy and I watched a movie and ate popcorn." "What did you watch?" "Pirates of the Caribbean 2." I grinned. "I guess you picked the movie, huh?" "Yeah, it was my turn. It was great." "Cool. Where's your brother?" "Dunno, his car isn't here. I don't think he came home last night." I frowned. He had told me he would be home an hour after me. Yes, occasionally he stayed out all night (against the rules, of course, but he never cared much about rules), but I didn't expect it last night. I felt a nibble of lady-worry (what if he'd gotten in an accident, for God sake?) but I tried to calm myself as I walked into the kitchen. I picked up the phone and listened to make sure Laurel was still playing, then dialed David's cell number. He picked it up on the second ring. "Where are you?" I asked, my voice sounding surprisingly peevish. "You didn't come home last night." "No, something came up," he said. I heard a radio playing and the sound of traffic going by, and I realized he was in his car. "I'll be home in a few hours, don't worry about me, all right?" My frown deepened, and I realized with a pang that I was jealous. I didn't know that he was with another girl and I damned sure wasn't going to ask, but my mind went right there, much to my shock. I had never liked the idea of David slumming around with trashy girls, but now there was something more to it, something more permisteral, and I didn't know how to handle it. After a moment I said, "All right, David. I'll see you then." "Take care mom. Love you." That put a smile on my face in spite of myself. "Love you too, David." I took Charlie outside for a few minutes, ate some lunch and cleaned the kitchen. By then Laurel had gone off with a gaggle of her friends to the mall, so I slipped out of my thong (I never wore my respectable panties anymore) and let Charlie lick me to an orgasm. He was wonderful, as always, and he never seemed to mind giving me a lick and getting nothing back...but it was starting to strike me that it was pretty unfair. He got nothing out of it, after all. I would have loved to fuck his brains out, of course, but I had learned that to do that you needed to set aside at least an hour and a half to get dressed, get him stimulated, have sex, and then clean up afterward. I just didn't have the time... And then it occurred to me that, if he used his mouth on me, then I might be able to return the favor. There were pictures and movies on the website that David had signed me up for of women eagerly fellating dogs that had made my mouth water, but I'd never done it for my beloved Charlie. In fact I'd forgotten about it in the excitement of everything that had gone on. But it was possible...and it was appealing to me as I thought about it. I considered dropping to my knees and giving him a sloppy-wet blowjob right then and there, but I thought better of it. After all I didn't know if Tim might come back early, and I also suspected that, like with most things involving dogs and sex, it wasn't going to be as easy as it looked at first. There would probably be some trick to it; however, I figured that there would be plenty of advice on the internet on how to do it right. One thing David had taught me is that pretty much everything was on the internet. So it was with a smile of anticipation that I leaned forward, rubbed Charlie's ears vigorously and told him, "Oh mommy's gonna suck your cock isn't she yes she is she's gonna suck your big hard doggie cock so good oh yes she is oh yes!" He didn't understand a word of it, but he was glad to hear it if the way his whole back end wagged is anything to go by. And so it was that a few minutes later I found myself on the laptop Googling "oral sex dog." God bless Google. Within a few moments I was reading some excellent advice on the hows, dos and don- nots of giving a dog a blow job. Charlie was at my feet and whining softly because he could smell how turned on the descriptions were making me and he wanted a crack at... well, my crack. I just smiled and petted his head as I read about how delicate a dog's cock is, how under no circumstances should you ever use teeth on it, and how some dogs (even ones who will eagerly screw you silly and lick you for hours) just don't like a mouth on their privates. It was fascinating and extremely erotic, especially since I occasionally took a break to watch a video of a woman actually doing what I was reading about. The idea of swallowing that endless stream of precum and cum almost made me swoon... I just had time to clear the browser history and turn off the computer when I heard Tim come home. Charlie met him at the door and I followed a few moments later. He was in a great mood, bouncy and bubbly, and we had a nice, pleasant conversation in the living room for half an hour before David pulled up in front of the house. "Is he just getting home from last night?" Tim asked with a frown. "I didn't see his car when I left this morning." "Yes, I think he is," I said, trying to sound appropriately casually concerned. "I guess I'd better have a talk with him. As long as he's living here, he'll obey our rules." "Let me. We've been getting along pretty well lately." That was an understatement. "I think I might be able to have a more productive conversation with him than you can. You two usually end up sparring." "That's true enough. OK, he's all yours." David came in looking a little the worse for wear – unshaven and in his school clothes from Friday – but he had a smile on his face when he saw Tim and me sitting. "Hi guys," he said cheerily. "What's up?" "I think we need to have a talk, kiddo," I said seriously... or as seriously as I could. I mean...god, he'd sucked my pussy in public less than 24 hours before so it was kind of a challenge to scold him about breaking curfew. His face got appropriately contrite and he said, "OK, sure mom." Tim got up and excused himself to go to the restroom. I watched him go, and as soon as he was out of earshot I said, "OK, where were you?" He gave me a look I couldn't read, but it wasn't snide or even teasing. If I hadn't known better, I'd have said it was worried. "After I dropped you off last night I got a call from a friend who asked me to come over because his girlfriend was having a bad trip. And no, I didn't sell him the stuff. So I went over there, and by the time everything was under control I was too tired to drive back so I stayed over. We had lunch today and here I am." I cocked an eyebrow. 
|
chrislebo
Member
Posts: 168016
|
Something in his demeanor told me he was lying, and I congratulated myself on getting good enough at spotting his BS that I didn't buy it. "Is that the truth, David?" He looked at me for a long moment, and this time his expression was definitely worried, or at least concerned. "No," he admitted reluctantly, "but I can't tell you what I was doing. It's legal," he added hastily, "and no, there wasn't another girl involved." "I didn't ask that." "You didn't need to, I heard it in your voice." The little prick was still better at reading me than I was at reading him. "I just...look, something's going on. And it's nothing to worry about, it's just something I can't tell you about quite yet." "And now I am worried. What's going on, David?" He looked in the direction Tim had disappeared and whispered, "Please just trust me on this one, OK? I'll tell you as soon as I can." "David..." "Mom, please. Trust me." I frowned. "What's with all the secrecy?" "I'm telling you what I can right now." "And you're not in any kind of trouble?" He shook his head vigorously. "No, it doesn't even have anything to do with me." "OK, now you're being mysterious for the sake of being mysterious!" He chuckled and kissed my forehead. "Well, maybe. But please trust me. Can you do that?" I thought about the way he had been with me the night before and I nodded. "I can, David." He beamed at me. "Thanks, mom. I had a wonderful time last night." I beamed back. "Me too." Tim came back shortly thereafter and so that was the end of the conversation. The rest of the day was spent bustling around – Tim and I did some more yard work, then when Laurel got home we took her over to visit Tim's parents. His mom is a lovely, cheerful perfectly round woman and his man is one of those older guys who always seems to be smiling (in spite of the fact that he's been on a walker for the past three years since he broke several bones falling down the stairs). We've always gotten along like gangbusters and they've always spoiled Laurel; they used to spoil David too before they realized what he was. We had a great time over there, then dropped off Laurel at as friend's house for the evening and went out to dinner at Dominguez, a place we must have been twenty times. It was a perfectly pleasant dinner. The food was terrific Mexican, as always, and Tim's conversation was easy and pleasant, as always, and we had a very nice time, as always. And I don't think I went two minutes without thinking about David. When Tim was talking about the new tile we'd planned to put down in the kitchen, I was thinking about David singing in my ear as we swayed together to "Stardust"; when he talked about the softball league he was thinking of joining, I could think of nothing but the way my mister's cock felt in my mouth when he came; when he talked about fixing the brakes on his car, there wasn't a thing in my mind except the way that David had made me long to let him put his mouth on me and make me come in front of a gaggle of strangers. I knew it was wrong to be thinking those thoughts, and I knew it was wrong to be relishing them so much – especially when I was with my husband. I knew it was wrong, but I didn't care. The memory, like the act, was so wonderful that I had no desire whatsoever to avoid it. I loved Tim dearly but he couldn't, or wouldn't give me what David could – and I had gone without for too long. And so I listened to Tim, and I talked with Tim, and I thought about David, and I went to bed with a smile. May 25 The smile was still on my face when I woke up Sunday. Tim had long ago left for his working lunch, but the surprise I had was that David wasn't in his bedroom – again. I heard music coming from Laurel's room so I knocked and we chitchatted for a bit before I asked, "Did David not come home last night?" "Nope, he was here. He left early." I blinked in surprise. David NEVER got up early. "He did? How early?" "I dunno, not long after daddy I think." "Huh. OK. Did he say where he was going?" "Nope and I didn't ask. Hey, can you take me to the Mall of America today?" I laughed. "You spent all day there yesterday!" "I know, but I saw some super cute things and I was hoping you could maybe buy them for me a little bit?" "A little bit?" "Or a lot. Whichever works for you." "Yeah. And how much does super cute cost these days?" "It's super cheap. And I saw a pair of shoes I KNOW you'd look great in." "Oh damn you kiddo, you know just how to get what you want, don't you?" She grinned innocently, like an angel. "I just thought maybe you'd want a new pair of shoes, that's all." "Fine, we'll wait for your dad to get back and if he doesn't have anything he wants to do, we can go then." I wouldn't mind a new pair of shoes... Most of the morning was spent in delicious sloth. I ate some oatmeal, read the paper while takeing a cup of strong coffee and sitting in the sun, and had Charlie out to romp in the yard. My sloth ended at a little before eleven, when Patty called with news of her date. I took the phone, secluded myself in a chair in the middle of the lawn, and demanded details. Details I got, bubbling forth in an excited, happy torrent. They had shared a wonderful, romantic dinner at Luce (where they had also shared a lubricating bottle of expensive wine). When it was done and dusk was settling they went for a walk along the tree-lined campus of St. Catherine's College, hand in hand. It was almost dark when Maria put Patty's back against a big oak tree and kissed her, and this time Patty didn't stop her when she put her hand up Patty's dress. Patty came "a wow kind of orgasm," as she said, and before she knew it they were in Maria's bed. They stayed there until morning, making love three times. Patty thought she was in love. I thought so too, and I couldn't have been happier for her than I was. If ever there was a woman who deserved to be loved, it was Patty. "When are you going to tell Thomas?" I asked. "I don't care," Patty replied casually, and then laughed. "Can you believe it? I really don't care. This is the first time since before I married that load that I don't care what he thinks." "Well, how fast do you want to go with Maria?" Another laugh. "She told me a joke last night. What does a lesbian bring to a second date? A U-Haul." I laughed too. "Is that how fast you want to go?" "Well I thought we'd give it a couple of months and see how it goes. But Angela... Angela, I can't even tell you how it felt. To be loved. To be cherished. To be treated as someone who was worth being wooed. I can't even tell you." I thought back to my date with David and figured I knew. "Patty, that's fantastic. Congratulations. What did Thomas say when you got home?" "Ha. He's still not awake, the takes prick." "If things go well... I'd give anything to see the look on his face when you tell him you're leaving him for a woman!" "I should film it. For posterity's sake." 
|
chrislebo
Member
Posts: 168016
|
We talked for another half an hour, and by the time we were done I was excited with her excitement. Maria had truly swept her off her feet, and Patty was almost dizzy with the possibilities. I did bring up the fact that being in a relationship with a woman would likely be very different from being in one with a man, and she acknowledged it, but I don't think she really understood the point. Still, I didn't belabor it – she was in the first throes of love and I wasn't going to be the one to rain on her parade. She had another date with Maria this coming week and I wished her all the best with it. I made lunch for Laurel and I – soup and a salad – and we ate it together outside. We had just sat down when the penny dropped. "Mom," she said casually, "can I borrow something of yours for the mall today?" "Like what?" "Oh, I dunno, I thought maybe we could look through your stuff and find something cute." "Cute? Or revealing?" She grinned and blushed a little, but only a little. "Well nothing too revealing...for me anyway." My eyebrow arched. "Meaning?" She looked up at me with an impish gleam in her eyes. "Well, you have all that sexy underwear, it's a shame to waste it..." "Who says I'm wasting it?" I replied with an impish gleam of my own. "Oooh, you're wearing it around? Tell me!" "No. Now eat your lunch." "I'll bet people have some wild reactions when you show yourself..." "Some do," I admitted. I wasn't sure how much I liked where the conversation was going. "Well...I was thinking that you should wear some." "Uh huh. I could maybe accidentally on purpose show somebody too much." She hadn't given up her intention to get me to show off with her in the audience, but this was the first time she'd brought it up in a while...and the first time she'd brought it up since my date with David. I know I ought to be ashamed of myself, but the first thing I thought was how thrilled David would be if Laurel and I did this and I told him about it... "Well, yeah," she nodded. "I mean I'd love to see it! I think it's so cool. I'd love to see the expression on people's faces!" I tried to be strong in spite of how appealing this idea was to me at the moment. I'd loved the couple of times I'd shown myself in public before, and when David had gone down on me in front of the crowd of strangers... wow. It would be thrilling to walk into the Mall of America in a skimpy little outfit and tease random passersby with glimpses of my goodies... but Laurel would be there. Yes she wanted to see it but she had no business wanting to see that from me and if I let her then it would be just another thing I shouldn't do with my kids that I did in spite of knowing how damned wrong it was. I'd already crossed enough of those lines with David that I had no realistic hope of ever going back to propriety with him, but Laurel wasn't a lost cause yet. I knew I had to be firm with her, and with myself, but the idea was seductive and exciting, and it wouldn't leave my mind. Still, I shook my head and said, "Nope, we can't do that. Child Protection would haul you off to a foster home if they found out." "Well I won't tell them!" Laurel laughed, leaning over and slugging my shoulder playfully. "Laurel...no. Come on now, eat your salad." My voice wasn't nearly as certain as it needed to be, and I know she noticed. "Well can I at least borrow some of your things?" "Well...OK, fine, but nothing too revealing." "I don't like revealing on me. I just like cute." We were dawdling over the last of our ice tea when Tim came rolling up around one. He was in a great mood, bouncy and cheerful, and he told us to have an awesome time at the mall. And that was how, a few minutes later, I found myself with my flower in my bedroom, poring over clothes. She found something easily – a flowy blue and green cotton dress I'd bought the summer before, light and airy without showing anything remotely inappropriate for a 15 year old girl, even one as well endowed as my flower. My own outfit, however, was more of a challenge. The first thing I grabbed was pair of mid-thigh shorts and a conservative yellow top with a slightly scooped neckline and sleeves. Laurel, however, took one look and made a face. "Ugh! You aren't wearing that!" "Why not?" "You'll totally cramp my style!" I laughed. "You aren't old enough to have a style." "Come on, I'm your flower. I was born with style." "Oh I get it, flattery." "Is it working?" "Yes. How about this?" I held up a rather demure sundress. It was a sleeveless flower print with a high neckline, very light and comfortable. "Mmmm...I dunno, I think you need to wear something...let's see..." She rummaged through my closet and came out with some of the cute things I'd picked up at XXXFantasy – a red and black corset with some lace and a black miniskirt. "How about this?" "Yeah, right," I smirked. "I told you I'm not flashing anybody, so give it up." "Hmmmph, fine, let's see..." She put the corset back and looked for a few moments more then pulled out a sleeveless purple top with dangerous cleavage, a pleat below the bust and a crocheted back. She held it up next to the miniskirt with a hopeful look. "You've got to be kidding me," I told her, crossing my arms. "Keep looking." "Well you have to wear one of these, the top or the skirt." My eyebrow arched. "Oh I do, huh? Says who?" "Me. Giving peeks or not, I still want you to look hot. So which is it?" I couldn't help but grin. My incredibly cute 15 year old flower thought I was hot – how flattering was that? And the skirt wasn't that bad... "OK, fine, put the top back." Her smile was huge, and she did as she was told. A moment later she had a red sleeveless number with a major V-neck and a clingy, midriff-baring tummy. "Yyyeah," I said, "you're getting colder." "Fussy. How about this?" She produced a very cute blue sleeveless V-neck top with ribbed sides that were really form- fitting and flattering. I paused – it would show cleavage, yes, but not a huge amount. And besides, it would look good. "Ok, fine, that will work," I said. I knew that the clothes my flower had selected for me were skimpy enough that I'd be showing off whether I wanted to or not, but honestly I didn't mind that much. I was happy, I was carefree, I felt sexy and loved and even a little silly with the hangover of my date with my mister. And besides, the idea of people looking at me – at me when I walked beside my gorgeous flower – was very seductive. So if Laurel wanted to see me dress sexy, to hell with it, I'd let her see me dress sexy. "Let's get changed." We began to undress. Laurel and I have never had a problem undressing around each other, though this would be the first time she saw me after I shaved my kitty. I knew she'd ask about it – as I mentioned, I'd always been loudly against it – but I didn't mind. In fact, it put a little twitter of excitement in my belly to know that my flower would see what my mister had made me do... Laurel pulled off her shirt, revealing a very ordinary and chaste white bra made entirely for support and not for looks. She was about to drop her shorts, but she stopped and looked up. "Mind if I borrow one of your bras? Something cute?" "Hmmm...I think I have something..." I opened my drawer and rummaged around a bit before I found what I was looking for: a lacy white thing with scalloped edges, lots of lift and lots see-through. "Here, try this." She took it with a laugh. "I said cute, not sexy!" I shrugged. "That dress doesn't show anything anyway. You'll be the only one who knows you have it on. It will be your naughty little secret." "You mean our naughty little secret," she replied with a wink, and I laughed and nodded. Then she slipped out of her bra and took my breath away. I have to explain that I've seen Laurel naked a million times, just like she's seen me. Like I said, we've never been shy about changing together, and she's always been very open in asking me questions about her body. It's never been a big deal... but today it was different. Honestly I didn't know why, and I still don't. Maybe it was because this was the first time I'd seen her like this since my encounters with Brandy and Petra – maybe it was because now I looked at women as potential objects of sexual desire. Maybe, but I don't think so; I didn't want to jump my flower's bones. Maybe it was because I was more aware of my own body and my own needs, sexual and otherwise. 
|
chrislebo
Member
Posts: 168016
|
Maybe it was because all of her teasing about showing me off had made me aware of the similarities and differences in our bodies. I'm really not sure. But when Laurel slipped out of her bra, I was just entranced by her tits. They were, to sum it up in a word, magnificent. Another word would be perfect. Yes another word, or perhaps two, would be mouth-watering. Enviable. Luscious. Delightful. Succulent. However you describe them, my flower has a rack that makes wet dreams. Laurel had always had a lot of questions about her boobs. She started developing early – by the time she was eight she was growing a chest – and she just kept developing, slowly but surely. She'd had all the normal questions: "Are mine normal?" "Why are they so big?" "What kinds of bras are best?" "What's the deal with these things anyway?" So I knew her breasts and I knew she was comfortable with them, just like I knew mine and was comfortable with them. But mine had never been like hers. I was a decent size when I was 15, but hers were VERY big, bigger than mine were until I had her. And not only that but they were perfectly firm, the way tits can only be when you're young and gravity hasn't started having its wicked way with you yet. When my tits were that firm, they weren't that big; when my tits were that big, they weren't that firm. Hers were an absolute ideal, the kind of tits that gave men whiplash when they turned their heads to watch her pass by, the kind that made women green with envy. I need to say again that I didn't want to jump Laurel; I wasn't turned on by her. What I was, was awed. My flower, the little girl I'd given birth to and nursed, played dollies and tea party with, watched as she grew from young to young woman, was gorgeous. She still had a little girl face and the awkwardness of a teenager, but when I looked at her I could really see, for the first time ever, the hot chick she'd be at 19, the confident hottie she'd be at 25, the lovely and confident and poised woman she would be when she was my age. I could see how she would develop and fill out, how she'd lose her leanness and gain curves, how she would become far prettier than I was. I was awestruck. With Tim, I had made her. I had made her. I was so proud I'd have popped like a balloon if she'd have stuck me with a pin. She put on the bra I gave her and looked up to see my opinion, and then she stopped and gave me a strange look. "Um...OK, why are you looking at me like that?" I smiled hugely, I just beamed, and she was smiling back as I took her in my arms and hugged her very tight. "I'm so proud of you, sweetie. I love you so much." "I love you too, mom," she whispered, and when she pulled away she kissed my cheek and smiled. "Thanks for taking me today." "I wouldn't have missed it for the world, kiddo. Not for the world." She paused. "Really? Not for the world? No offense, but if someone offered me the world to skip this shopping trip, I'd totally take the world." "You," I laughed, smacking her on the ass and making her jump and yelp. "Get your dress on." She stripped out of her shorts – she was wearing a cute pair of pale blue boykinis – and then got into the dress; she looked better in it than I ever did. By the time she was done I was rooting through my underwear drawer. I picked out a pair of very sensible underwear –after all, I knew she was planning on trying to show me off – but her hands were on my wrists before I straightened up. "Uh uh," she said with a firm shake of her head. "Try again." I paused for a moment. Surely I should just wear what I wanted to wear, regardless of what my flower said. I mean... I'm the parent, right? But even as the thought was occurring to me, I was putting the sensible panties down and looking for something else. I wasn't sure why, except that, at the moment, Laurel was being firm and demanding and telling me to do what she wanted, and it felt good and right to do what she said. I know it was odd, but the oddest thing was it didn't seem odd at all at the time. It just felt natural. I found a dark purple thong, and without even realizing it I held them up for my flower's approval. Well, that's not exactly true, I mean I held them up to look at them myself, but when Laurel shook her head very firmly in the negative, I dropped them without complaint. I was looking for something that didn't show everything I had when Laurel reached in and produced a pair of red and black crotchless panties – and not the kind with a tie-close crotch, I mean the kind with no crotch whatsoever. "Here," she said, holding them out to me. "These are the ones I want you to wear." I raised an eyebrow. "Laurel..." "These are the ones I want you to wear," she repeated firmly, like I was the young and she was the lady. It was a very strange moment – I felt a queer little rush as I accepted her demand and took the panties from her. At the time I just chalked it up to the growing erotic charge of the situation, of me going out with the intention of flashing, but there was more to it than I realized at the time. She had just produced a pair of fuck me pumps when I peeled off my panties and her jaw dropped. "...mom? You...shaved!" "Well at least you noticed!" I laughed. "Your man didn't." "I think it looks great! I love it. A lot of my friends shave." "Yep, so you've said," I replied, pulling up the crotchless panties and knowing exactly what was coming next. "What do you think? I mean, would you complain if I did?" This was a road we'd been down before, and I'd always told her no. No matter what the fashion was, I had been against shaving. But now my mind was changed – David had changed it – and I just shrugged. "If you want. I can give you a few pointers if you're interested. And I am NOT wearing those shoes. I'll be on my feet for hours, so find me some sandal flats." A few moments later we were both dressed, both looked fantastic, and were on our way out the door when David pulled up. I told Laurel to go wait by my car because I wanted to talk to David alone; she looked a little disappointed that she'd miss what she assumed would be an ass-chewing, but she did what she was told. I met David at the front door, and I immediately noticed he had a concerned look on his face. "Don't worry about it," he said when I asked him what was going on. "It's...well, don't worry." "David," I asked, taking him by the shoulders and looking into his eyes, "are you in trouble?" "No," he shook his head emphatically. "This time it's not about me at all." "Then what's going on? I mean this is connected to yesterday when you didn't come home all night, isn't it?" "Yes," he admitted reluctantly. "But...look, please don't ask me any more." "Why not?" He sighed. "Because I can't tell you any more right now. I will when I can but if you make me tell you more right now I'll have to lie to you and I really don't want to lie to you any more. It's not about me and I'm not in any kind of trouble, but it is important and I'll tell you when I can. Can you trust me?" I didn't even hesitate before I nodded. I could trust him. I couldn't before – he'd shown that – but he was changed now. Now I knew he was telling me the truth. He smiled. "Thank you, mom. Now... where are you going all sexy looking?" I grinned naughtily. "To the mall with Laurel. And do you want to know a secret?" "Sure." Wordlessly I lifted my miniskirt and showed him my cooch hanging bare in my crotchless panties. He gaped, then broke into a huge grin. "It's Laurel's fault. She found my sexy clothes and she's been wanting to show me off. She was very insistent." "LAUREL does?" "Yeah," I chuckled as I snugged my skirt back down. "I think she's more like you than either of you realize." He shook his head in amazement. "Maybe so. Laurel...damn, I can't believe it." "Does it bother you that Laurel wants to make me flash all over the Mall of America?" "Bother me? I love it!" I reached down and playfully squeezed his crotch, and when I found his cock hard in his pants I smiled. "Mmmm, I guess you do love it, don't you?" "Damn right," he grinned. "Do you think maybe we can be alone for a little while this evening? I'm hungry for what you've got." I pursed my lips, thinking of his mouth on me, and I was instantly wet. But I wasn't yet crazy enough to throw caution to the wind no matter how horny my wonderful mister made me. "Maybe. We have to be careful. We can't let your sister or your man even so much as suspect a thing." 
|
chrislebo
Member
Posts: 168016
|
He nodded, looking a bit glum. "I know. But if we can...I'd really love it, mom." I nodded, my eyes sparkling, and leaned in to whisper, "If we can be alone, would you like me to suck your cock while you lick my pussy?" "Oh...I think I could be persuaded." He reached a hand up my skirt and gave my bare pussy a little squeeze. "Now don't keep Laurel waiting...and I want to hear all about what you get up to when you get home, OK?" "OK. I love you, David." He locked eyes with me and nodded, a small, perfect smile on his face. "I love you, mom." I tried to keep the dopey, love struck smile off my face when I got to Laurel and the car, but I'm not sure how well I succeeded. She asked me what was up and I said something (I'm not even sure what) and we were on our way. Laurel, of course, started bugging me about getting her license and maybe her own car, and we were still struggling with the problems associated with that particular parental nightmare when we pulled up into our parking space at the mall. Now, for those of you that don't know, the Mall of America is the largest shopping mall in the United States. It has over 500 stores, it's bigger than Rhode Island, it has its own weather pattern and people have gotten lost inside and never been seen again. OK, I made the last three up, but the place is absurdly huge. It has three levels of shopping, an indoor amusement park complete with roller coasters and a water ride, an enormous aquarium, and the best people watching to be found in the whole state. Laurel adores it. We hit Nordstrom first, and both of us could have spent the rest of the day there quite happily had Laurel not had several other stores she wanted to shop at. As it was we picked up a really cute pair of bright blue Sam Edelman flats that Laurel had spotted on sale the day before and that looked great on her. Then we drifted through the Abercrombie & Fitch, crossed the aisle to the Bare Essentials boutique, and then went into Ben Bridge Jewelers. That was where Laurel showed me off for the first time. When we walked in, the first thing we saw was a gorgeous young sales guy talking to a rich-looking older woman. Laurel caught my eye and grinned, then leaned in and whispered, "You should give him something to look at." I giggled. "You're so bad. I shouldn't listen to you, you're a bad influence." She leaned in and gave me a gentle shove with her shoulder. "Go on, I dare you." "Oh you dare me, huh? What makes you think I'll fall for that?" "Mom," she said, her voice low and urgent, "I want you to." My stomach did something weird, like I was at the top of a roller coaster and just plunging over the drop, and I nodded wordlessly. We drifted along one of the display cases near the cutie, and as soon as he was done with the other woman he turned to us and said, "Hello ladies, how are you today?" I gave him by best sexy smile and said, "I'm lusting...after these earrings right here. Can you show them to me?" He locked eyes with me for a moment and then smiled. "Sure, the sapphire hoops, those are beautiful." Laurel stepped back, ostensibly to look at something in another case but really so he could watch the cutie's face when I gave him a little show. He reached into the case for the earrings...just as I leaned over with my elbows on the case, arms pressed just a bit together, giving him just as spectacular a view of my cleavage as I could. His eyes went right there like they were drawn by a magnet, and I shifted to let him look all the way down to my belly button. We made some small talk about the earrings and a few other pieces, but mostly he scoped me out and I gave him the best looks I could. I didn't buy anything, but I did have a very good time. Laurel was leaning on me and fighting to hold back laughter as we walked out. "Oh my God, mom, you should have seen his face. I think he's in love." I grinned. "Well then he has good taste in breasts." "We need to get you out of that bra!" "I wish your man said that once in a while," I mock- grumped, and we both laughed. "But really, you honestly want me to flash the girls?" "Nipples and all," Laurel said, a positively wicked smile on her face. "I want to see some lucky guy's face when he sees the best boobs in the whole Mall of America." "I thought you were keeping your shirt on." "Ha ha, I meant yours." I shook my head. "You know, I have no business doing any of this with you around." She laughed. "Oh you love it and you know it. I saw your face in there. You adore being looked at, don't you?" "Well, fine, I do, but that doesn't mean I need to expose you to it." "Pun intended?" "Not entirely. But I'm serious, this isn't exactly a normal mom-flower day out." "You're right," she said with a nod as she squeezed my hand and shot me a glowing smile. "It's tons better. Now come on, let's go to the bathroom so you can get out of that bra." I shook my head, but I followed where she was leading. "You know, you owe me for this, kiddo." "I would except you like it as much as I do." I hmmphed, but she had be dead to rights. I was loving this, and the fact that Laurel was the one pushing me to it made it more exciting. I supposed at the time that it was simply that it made it more forbidden and taboo to have her watching, and I do think that's part of it, but not the whole reamister. Not by a long shot. I stepped into the stall, and a minute later I was stepping back out braless, my girls resting comfortably in my revealing top...and my nipples obviously hard. I stashed the bra in Laurel's shopping bag and followed her out. We shopped for a while longer. I bought a cute pair of jeans and a vase, while Laurel picked up a cheap but cute watch, some leggings, and three tee shirts that were on sale. I know she was waiting for me to flash my boobs, but she didn't say anything about it. I think she figured I would do it if I just had time to work up to it – and she figured right. After all, letting someone look down my cleavage with my flower by my side was one thing, but setting the girls free with her there was quite another. I knew she wanted me to do it, and honestly I found the idea very enticing, especially if it could be arranged so at to happen right in front of some cute boy half my age who would appreciate the view. But still, it was a very brazen thing to do, the kind of thing that might reamisterably be said to be stupid. Was I going to be stupid? Well, I thought I might. It happened when we stopped at a little cart selling cheap silver jewelry, and I didn't even intend it to happen then and there. The permister at the cart was a girl who looked to be about 19, and she was wearing a cross on a necklace and had one of those irritating chastity rings on her finger (I'm a firm believer that waiting for your wedding night to have sex is idiotic – sex isn't something you just know how to do, and if you want to be good for the permister you love then you need to have some experience... at least that's my opinion) so she was a good Christian girl. I strongly doubt she was bi or that she wanted to see my chichis. But she held up a silver necklace that I asked about, and when I went to take it, it slipped off my fingers and fell to the floor. I bent over to pick it up without thinking – And out popped my boobs. They spilled over the edge of the top as I bent, the right one a little more than the left, but both nipples were out. A million thoughts ran through my head in the half second it took me to reach the necklace, thoughts about how I ought to cover myself, tuck myself in, how I ought to be modest and sensible and not show anyone any more than I already had... and those thoughts passed right by without stopping. 
|
chrislebo
Member
Posts: 168016
|
I was in a naughty, risqué mood, a mood very much to flaunt what I had – and for Laurel to see it and know it was her doing – and so when my fingers found the necklace, I simply straightened up like I didn't know anything was amiss. The girl's jaw dropped and she turned a shade of red I normally associate with candied apples. A gaggle of teenage boys were passing by and in an instant I was the center of their attention, their appreciative expressions, and their whistles. A pair of tween girls stared with open mouths and laughed, and I knew they would be telling the story the next day at school. I loved it. I can't even tell you the pure sexual thrill I got from standing there with my breasts exposed, pretending I didn't have any idea why I was suddenly the center of everyone's attentions. I simply stood there with an innocent smile on my face, holding the necklace out to the cart salesgirl and secretly reveling in the sudden freedom I felt. That was it, really – freedom. I know it sounds silly but I really did feel free at that moment, free to embrace my sexuality, free to accept what I was becoming, even free to embrace my mister's love and the fact that I was in a deeply sexual kind of love with my own dog. Free, too, to be told to do just exactly this and to obey. At that moment, with an innocent grin on my face and my chest on display for all to see, I felt like I really had the strength to own all the changes that were going on and to make them my own. I felt like I really was in control of the lightning I was riding. Within a few days, events would prove me wrong, but for a brief moment I felt like a queen. And it was a brief moment. For all the reaction I'd earned, I think I stood there that way for less than two seconds. A woman about my age, pushing a baby carriage, boggled at me for a moment and then dashed to my defense, putting herself in front of me and held up a shopping bag to block the view. I managed to look confused, and then when I looked down and pretended to notice, I also managed to look embarrassed. I quickly tucked myself in and then Laurel had me by the arm and was dragging me away before the teenage boys could come over and talk to me. "Oh my God, mom, oh my God!" Her voice was delighted and I saw a flush on her cheeks as she steered me across the crowded walkway and got us lost in the crowd. "Oh my God! That was so hot!" I was simply laughing, a free and confident laugh like I was on top of the world. "I didn't even mean to do it! They just...popped on out!" "Oh my God," she repeated, "it was perfect. You should have seen everyone's reactions! It was just...oh my God! I thought that girl was gonna have a stroke!" "Yeah, she did look a little overwhelmed, the poor thing." "And those boys! I bet they go home and jerk off thinking about you!" "Language!" "Well I bet they do! I mean...mom, you don't even realize how completely hot you are. I think you gave them a thrill they'll be talking about for months!" "Oh come on Laurel, I'm not that attractive!" I protested, though I was glowing with pride that she thought so. "I'm just an old lady!" "Mom, if I look half as good at your age, I'll be happy." "Really?" "Really. I love that my mom is a babe!" She squeezed my arm. "And I love that people love to look at you. It really makes me proud of you. And it makes me glad I'm making you do this." "Well...it was pretty fun," I admitted. "Maybe I'll even mention it to your man, just to see if he actually reacts." "Ooh, I dare you!" Laurel laughed. "Stop daring me!" I said, and we laughed together. Half an hour later we wound up in Macy's...and Laurel saw the shoe department. Casually she asked, "Don't you need some shoes?" "I always need shoes," I agreed. "Do you think you need some help trying them on?" she asked, still casually. "Well I guess I...oh, I get it." "Mmmm-hmmm," she said, steering me into the ladies shoes department. I could feel her excitement as she guided me toward the nearest shoe salesman and gave me a shove... He was a youngster. If he was older than 17 I'll eat the shoes he sold me. He was a normal-looking kid, a couple of acne spots and the thin build of a boy who's gotten his height but not filled out yet. He was average, the sort of kid you'd see by the dozen in any high school in the country. And I was going to give him a treat. I was going to give my flower a treat too, the one she demanded. Laurel peeled away to take up a good watching position as I approached him. He smiled at me as I told him I was looking for a couple of different styles of pumps and wanted his assistant; I pretended not to notice when his eyes kept flicking down at my boobs. It was cute... and he was going to be seeing a lot more than that pretty soon. I took my place on one of the fitting chairs as he went off to gather half a dozen pairs of shoes; Laurel hovered nearby, acting like she was looking at shoes but grinning like the cat that ate the canary. Me, I was just sitting with my legs crossed, acting very nonchalant. The young fellow returned – his nametag said Zach – and set the boxes down in front of me. He was on his knees, in perfect position, and out of the corner of my eye I could see Laurel staring at him, waiting for his reaction. He took off one of my shoes and I uncrossed my legs for him to get the other. I had my ass right on the edge of the chair and my miniskirt hitched up just enough that there was no way I couldn't shoot little Zach a beaver – His eyes drifted between my legs and got huge. I fact, his whole face sort of went slack, his eyes got buggy, he turned beet red, and he immediately looked down at the black peep-toe pumps he was fitting on me. Laurel looked like she was ready to burst with glee...and, I couldn't help but notice, her nipples were as hard as diamonds and just about poking clean though the sundress. There was no mistaking the look on her face for anything but arousal. She was off to the side so she saw nothing but my legs and Zach's reaction, so I know that she wasn't getting hot by looking at my pussy. She was getting hot because I was showing it... and because she was the one who had told me to show it. Maybe she had more in common with David than I'd realized. It's a mark of how turned on I was that I didn't stop the show right there, but the fact was that I liked showing myself – I was starting to think I liked it a lot – and it was easier for me to actually do it when I had someone pushing me. So, if Laurel wanted to flaunt me, she could for now. And yes, I know precisely how messed up that is. Zach fumred the other shoe on and I stood up, regarding myself in the mirror... and incidentally placing my ass in his face, so that all he had to do was look up and he'd see under my skirt. I watched his eyes in the mirror – he looked up. I grinned. "Mmmm, they're cute, but let's see some others," I said. The next pair was a pointed-toe black pump from Nine West, and I don't usually care for pointed toe shoes... but this wasn't about the shoes, was it? I sat back where good old Zach could look straight up my skirt and fixed him with an innocent look as I held out my foot for him. In fact I held it up nice and high so my skirt slid back a little more. Zach tried to be a good boy, really he did, but the temptation was simply too much and he looked square at it for two seconds, then hurriedly looked away and finished fitting the shoes. He did manage to resist temptation for a couple of pairs, although I'm not sure how. He was red in the face, hard in the pants and even sweating a little. It was so cute. Laurel, on the other hand, looked almost lost in an erotic fog. I knew the look on her face, the expression, because it was so similar to mine. I knew how she was feeling, the pressing throb of arousal between her legs, and it made me quiver a bit to know that she was getting such a thrill out of exhibiting me this way. If my pussy hadn't already been soaked, I'm sure the sight of it would have made me at least a little wet. It was on the fifth pair – a very cute Anne Klein two-tone black and silver 3 1/2" heel pump that I absolutely had to have – that Zach finally simply broke down and took a good long look at what I was showing him. He stared straight up my skirt for almost ten seconds, entranced, and then suddenly he jerked his eyes up to my face to see if I was angry. I was not; in fact, to judge by my expression, there was nothing remotely unusual going on. Innocently, I asked, "What do you think, Zach?" "Um...it's...beautiful," he gulped. I smiled. "Thank you, but I meant the shoes." "Oh! I...oh..." 
|
chrislebo
Member
Posts: 168016
|
I shifted my legs farther apart; it was the most I could do to tell him to look without telling him to look, and he looked. He licked his lips and said, very softly, "The shoes are beautiful." "Thank you, Zach," I told him. "I like them too. I'll take them. Now let's look for something red." Zach nodded and stood, taking away all the rejected pairs and going to look for red pumps in my size. He wasn't gone five seconds before Laurel was at my side. I didn't have to look to see if she was turned on – I could smell it, and the smell was thrilling. "Mom...oh my God..." "You keep saying that," was my amused reply. "Do you think he likes the show?" "I think he does!" I looked up and met her eyes. She was looking a little stunned, like a fawn in the headlights...or like a girl who has told her lady to act like a slut and, against all odds, seen her lady do exactly as she was told. "And you?" "God mom...it's so hot. Keep doing it." Her voice was barely audible, but it was as intense as I had ever heard her sound. Somehow I thought that this wouldn't be the last time we did this. As awful as it sounds, that was perfectly fine by me. I was having a great time. Laurel was back in her place when Zach returned; I couldn't help but notice he was carrying the stack of boxes low to cover his erection, the sweetie. My legs were nice and open when he settled in front of me again, and this time he made no pretense of looking anywhere other than at my bare pussy. And that was nice... but I wanted to up the ante a little. We were secluded enough that nobody except Laurel was going to see what I was about to do, so as he settled the crimmister open-toed BCBGirls pump on my left foot, I let my right hand fall into my lap. As he put on the right shoe, I was sliding my hand up underneath my skirt. He froze, my foot in his hand and my leg in the air, as I traced my fingertip along my hairless slit, teasing my lips with my nail and gathering my moisture. He couldn't have been more solidly frozen if I'd have doused him with liquid nitrogen. I withdrew my hand, watched him stare slack-jawed for a moment, and then said, "Zach? You can put my foot down now." "Huh? Oh!" He did and shook his head like he was trying to clear cobwebs. I stood and checked how the shoes felt on my feet – I liked them. "I'll take these too. Let's find one more pair, something a little offbeat. How about something in a bright pattern?" "Yeah... sure, OK," he nodded, and I didn't even detect a trace of resentment that I'd made him bring ten boxes of red shoes out and then decided to buy the first pair I tried. He scampered away, and I could only giggle. I hadn't felt this sexually powerful since... well, ever. But the weird part was that I knew I wouldn't be doing this, at least not nearly so boldly, if Laurel wasn't making me. I felt sexually powerful, but only because I was doing what she told me to do. The implications of that were slow to dawn on me. He came back with another stack of boxes, and I sounded very normal when I said, "I hope I'm not being a bother, trying on all these pairs and making you run to the storeroom all the time." "No!" he replied eagerly, settling down in front of me again. "No...it's...um, really it's no problem at all." "Well you're very good at your job," I told him, watching his face as he looked straight at my kitty. "Your hands are very gentle." He blushed so hard and so red that I thought he might pass out, and he squeaked, "Thanks..." At this point, I would have bet just about anything that my little Zach was a virgin, and that this was the closest he had ever come to a naked pussy. That made me love it all the more. I'd be in his erotic dreams for years to come, and the things he would do to me in his imagination... well, I found I very much liked thinking about that. He put another half a dozen pairs on me and I don't think his eyes strayed from between my legs the whole time. I ended up with a very nice pair of open-toed 4" Nine Wests that were cream-colored with multicolored swatches on them. Zach ended up with pants full of cum. I'm not sure when it happened because he didn't give any sort of sign, but he had the most adorable wet spot at his crotch when he stood up. What a little sweetie. Laurel joined me at the counter as I paid for my shoes. I was acting like there was nothing even remotely amiss, but Laurel was flustered to the point of speechlessness. I wondered, as they rang up my card, whether my flower had gotten her own orgasm from this. I didn't think she had – I didn't see her touching herself – but she was so befuddled that she certainly seemed afterglowy. Well, I wouldn't ask her. I just smiled naughtily, slung the bags over my arm, and led her out. It was a little of an odd drive home. We talked more or less normally, and neither of us brought up what I'd done at the Mall. It was like we had silently agreed to keep the thing quiet, a secret between us, at least for the moment. But of course, I didn't feel like it was behind me, because I was still so horny that I was squirming in my seat. I dearly hoped David and I could find some time to be alone, because I kept imagining his mouth on my cunt and his cock in my mouth and it was driving me nuts. Unfortunately, it pretty quickly became clear that it was not to be, not that night anyway. Tim had decided to try to make dinner and it... hadn't turned out well. Honestly, I'm not even sure what it was supposed to be. At least he was laughing about it. So Laurel and I combined to whip up some fish, a salad and asparagus – but Tim had made enough of a mess that cleanup took forever. Then Laurel was up and down the stairs all evening, meaning that there was no way David and I could have taken 25 minutes to pleasure each other in his bedroom. Dammit. I was outside with Charlie, sitting on a chair on the patio, when David found me. "I was looking forward to taking you up on your offer," he said ruefully as he settled into the next chair over. "I was thinking about it all day long." I smiled. "Me too, kiddo. When I got back from the Mall, I was so horny...and you wouldn't believe what happened there." "You mean what Laurel made you do..." "Well...she really didn't have to twist my arm all that much..." I told him about showing my cleavage, about Laurel making me take off my bra, about my tits popping free by accident. To say that he was amazed would be to understate things considerably. He kept shaking his head over the fact that Laurel, who seemed so innocent and straight-laced, got off so much on watching me show myself. He was even more amazed that she had more or less ordered me to do it, and I'd done what I was told. When I told him about what I did to Zach and the way Laurel looked afterward, he was completely astounded. "Do you think she came from watching you?" I shrugged and laughed. "She might have. She acted like it." "Well," he mused, "my little sister is just full of surprises, isn't she?" 
|
chrislebo
Member
Posts: 168016
|
May 26 Charlie thought he was going to mate with me again when I got down my dog fucking clothes. And I admit, I was very tempted – having Charlie inside me was bliss, the closest to Heaven I expect to come in this life (or after it, truth be told). It would have been so easy to get down on all fours and let Charlie mount me – he had the method down now – and just be tied to him for 20 minutes while he pumped me full of his cum. He'd have loved that, and I'd have loved that... But I had something else in mind. I wanted to suck my dog's cock. He followed be down the stairs, eager and prancing, the tip of his cock already visible. He's so adorable when he gets excited – it's like he's a puppy again, completely focused and centered in the moment to the exclusion of everything else. He thought he was going to fuck my brains out, and so for him my pussy was the only thing in the world worth considering at that instant. Dogs are so pure, so sweet, and so guileless that I can't help but love them...and when they happen to be male, I can't help but let them love me. I barely got into the living room, to our customary spot, when he thrust his snout between my legs right onto my exposed pussy and began to lick. I was wet and eager, and so I simply smiled and let him have his way. His tongue slithered and moved, a serpent, rough and soft and strong, and he pushed it into me in the way he knew I loved the best. He began caressing nerves and membranes and I was weak in the knees, and the fact that finally – finally – I would return his oral attentions made it all the sweeter. I let him lick for a few moments, making me gasp and tremble, but the position was awkward and so I backed up slowly, with him following along and keeping his tongue inside me like the wonderful lover he is, until the backs of my knees met the edge of the sofa. Gently I lowered myself to it, spreading my legs and keeping my pussy right on the edge so he could get at it easily. His tongue filled me up, so pliable and yet so powerful, so soft but yet so rough. I just threw my head back and moaned, unashamed and uninhibited, and let him lick me where and how he wanted to. And at first he licked everywhere, from ass to clit, from the place where my thighs met my pelvis to so deep inside me I could barely believe his tongue wasn't a cock. I don't like to preach, but there is something I believe very strongly and I want to say it flat out: every single girl who reads this owes it to herself to let a dog lick her. I mean that. Even if you don't want to suck a dog's cock or let a dog fuck you, I promise you that you will never, ever experience anything in your life like a dog's tongue on your cunt and ass. You'll have an orgasm like you've never had – not just from the physical sensation of it but from the fact that the one giving you that sensation isn't another permister, male or female, and isn't even a plastic toy; it's another living, breathing creature, one who thinks and feels and loves and wants to please you, wants to give you an orgasm because it will make you happy. Try it just once and you'll never regret it, I promise you. OK, enough of my soapbox preaching. Charlie was hitting my spots one after another, and he knew what I liked because he was getting used to this by now, getting used to licking me and making me quiver and moan and come. Dogs are incredibly sensitive creatures, and even if they aren't terribly bright (and they're not) they have excellent instincts. When they do something that feels good to you, they can sense it and they do it again. And that's how come Charlie knew to avoid my clit and to lick lower, seeking my openings, pushing his tongue into my body. Now, I've never really been an anal girl, but I knew from the first time his tongue hit me today that it was going to be his licking my ass that made me cum. His tongue inside me, pushing open my lips, stretching my pussy, even flicking at my clit if he didn't hit it too directly, felt fantastic – but somehow, for some reamister, it was the way he licked my ass that was sending shivers up my spine...and making those shivers get hot, and concentrate in the very depths of my pussy where my orgasms started. It wasn't that his tongue on, and in, my pussy didn't feel fantastic, because it did; it's just that today my ass was the thing that needed attention. At first I shifted down and rolled my hips to bring my ass up, and that succeeded in focusing a little more of his attention there. His tongue, big and flat as it is, has the miraculous ability to fit into remarkably small spaces, and so it wasn't long before he pressed against my asshole – and I mean really pressed, so I could feel his teeth on that exquisitely sensitive ring of flesh – and pushed the tip of it inside me. I screamed. I screamed like a banshee, I howled like a woman possessed, and my hips lurched up off the couch and pushed my ass into Charlie's snout in an effort to get his tongue deeper. That, of course, was a mistake – dog's are sensitive, yes, but they don't always know the difference between a "HARDER!" thrust of the hips and a "KNOCK IT OFF" thrust of the hips (and to be fair, plenty of people don't always know the difference either – sex is an inexact science) and so he backed off three steps and looked at me quizzically. I couldn't help but laugh at the funny tilt of his head and the questioning in his huge brown eyes. "Good boy," I said encouragingly, "come on, come lick mommy..." And as I said it, I patted my pussy and he came right back, tail wagging, for more...but I had the very clever idea to leave my hand right there over my pussy and clit. He licked at it a bit when he came back, but then his tongue dropped down to just where I wanted it to be: my ass. Oh my Lord. If there's anything more sensuous than getting your pussy licked by a dog, it's getting your ass reamed by one. He pushed his tongue right against my little pucker and began to lick, hard and fast, harder and faster, and as he did my hips slowly rose to meet him and my legs came back and further back until my knees were against my chest and I was offering him my ass like it was the greatest treat in the whole world. I was moaning, writhing, screaming, gasping, crying, going out of my mind with the pleasure he was giving me. And each movement of his tongue seemed to open my ass more, each application of pressure made it yield to pressure more easily, each thrust made my ass want his tongue inside it with greater passion. I can't say for sure how deep his tongue got into my ass – not as deep as a cock would, of course, or even fingers, and not nearly as deep as it got when he licked my pussy. But it opened me in a way I was most emphatically not accustomed to being opened and it stimulated nerves that had never been stimulated, and it felt like his tongue was pushing my wide all the way up to my liver. I was open for my lover, giving myself to him, and he was taking me, devouring me, making me his like no one ever had before – I was coming before I knew it. I was lifting myself to him, curled up so that only my shoulders were on the sofa and my toes were behind my head pressing against the wall. It wasn't the sort of shattering orgasm that he gave me with his cock, but it was lovely and deep and rolled in waves, carrying me with it like a toy bobbing on the ocean until, finally, I uncoiled and let my body take a more normal position, slumped on the sofa with a big, satisfied smile on my face. Charlie wagged his tail at me, proud he had made me come. He was so adorable I could just have hugged him forever. Could have, that is, if I hadn't had my heart set on giving him as good as he was giving me. It was a moment before I had gathered myself enough to slide off the sofa like a wet lasagna noodle, and by that time Charlie had curled up at my feet. He looked up expectantly when I got down on his level and leaped to his feet, sure we were either going to play or fuck and willing to accept either one. He crowded into me, his big, strong, furry body shouldering me in his exuberant manner. I had my arms around him and my face buried in his neck, laughing with sheer pleasure at his pure, simple, innocent joy. But as I hugged him, my hand slipped beneath his body and found his sheath. It was warm and soft and furry, but as I squeezed it gently I felt, inside, the hardness of his penis bone (yes, dogs have them). His tip wasn't out anymore and he was still frisky, but as I began to stroke it slowly he quieted down as though I had ordered him to stillness, his tongue hanging out just a bit and his eyes just a little out of focus, as though he was looking at something far, far away. I smiled, knowing that I was giving him pleasure. He was my lover, and it made me feel good to make him feel good. I would make him feel wonderful. I licked my lips, feeling a little knot of anxiety in my stomach. Would he like it? Some dogs didn't, I had read. Would I be any good at it? I wanted to be for him what he was for me, a lover who was present always, who would always be faithful, who would love with unquestioned passion – and who could make him feel wonderful with every part of my body. I didn't know the answers, but I needed to find out, for both our sakes. Within a few strokes I could feel him hardening in his sheath, thickening, growing – and the red tip appeared. Since we began this I had seen it plenty, of course, but this was the closest I had ever really been to it and it mesmerized me. How different it was from a man's cock! It was barely thicker than a Bic pen and it was a pallid red, almost more a dark pink than actual red. It was pointed and slick-looking like it was wet. I licked my lips again and leaned in, extending my tongue... It tasted like dog. I don't mean that in a bad way – quite the opposite, in fact – but there's no other word for it, really. It tasted like Charlie. Now, I can see people saying "It tastes like dog cock" as a way of saying they didn't like something, but those people don't have dogs as lovers. Charlie IS my lover, and I love him incredibly, and for something to taste like him – like him and nothing else in the world – was the greatest gift I could imagine being given at that moment. I touched my tongue to the very tip and felt it hard and stiff, and then I traced the inch and a half of pale red until my tongue hit the fur of his sheath, and then back. Charlie liked it. My heart caught in my chest when I realized that. I had been worried that he wouldn't like having his penis touched in this way – the internet said lots of dogs don't and if you can't trust the internet what can you trust? – But he was holding himself as still as a statue while I licked him. He liked it. He liked it and that meant I had another way I could give him pleasure, another way I could make my lover feel good and loved and special. I was so happy I could have cried. 
|