2006 World La Crosse

PART ONE: REALIZATION
The old saying “you never really ever know some one” is quite true when it comes to my wife Debbie. Debbie has always seemed to come up with new surprises to keep our marriage stimulated and adventuresome. As I’ve recently found out though she seems to have been keeping some things to herself.
Debbie was away for a twelve-day business trip to be followed by two weeks of vacation. I took my three weeks so that I’d have a week home to myself while she was away. We hadn’t made any real plans for the following two weeks of our vacation time, but then we rarely ever did just making things up as we went along.
Needless to say the first few days alone before my time-off started was quite boring and instead of being elated about my freedom beginning on Saturday morning. I felt rather dejected about being alone with really nothing to do. Deb called at nine to see how things where and all the help she offered to fill my emptiness was cleaning up the mess that I’d probably accumulated since she left. Her nonplus approach to my problem didn’t really make me feel any better. But seeing how I had nothing else to do I spent a few hours heeding her advice.
After lunch I sat down at our computer and turning it on I noticed it seemed rather slow and decided to clean up the hard drive. There I was contentedly going through files and deleting the old and useless that had been adding up when I came across one called D’s Journal. I stared at it wondering if I should or not for at least five minutes before, with a guilty look over my shoulder and opened it.
Inside was a Word Document titled “Journal” and several other folders titled Fantasy’s, Stories and Photos. I immediately opened the Photos file up and was not surprised to find erotic pictures. We both enjoyed porn and shared a lot of time looking it over together. There was an array of beefcake shots, which I expected; some extraordinarily well hung guys and even photos of women. Another folder labelled “Untitled” was also included and of course I opened it. This was my first shock of the day. This folder contained various shots of obviously men dressed in lingerie and maid’s outfits being dominated by women. This was a side of my dear Debbie I’d never knew about and I was stunned thinking about what this might mean. Looking over the photos I found myself getting excited.
I felt myself shiver and closed that file and then opened the story folder. This folder contained several Word Documents all titled and most of the titles seemed to contain the same theme. The first one I opened was a short story about a man describing how he felt adorning himself in lingerie after denuding his body completely of hair. It was very descriptive and I found reading it slightly turned me on. Quickly scanning over a few more stories I found them dealing with the transformation of men by themselves or by a woman.
This was something I would never imagine my sweet little Debbie being into. She’d never had given me any clue that something like this would turn her on. I found myself becoming excited as I glossed over her collection of tales wondering what all of this meant. Then I opened the folder labelled My Fantasy and found several documents, but the one that caught my eye was titled “Transformation”.
I don’t know why but I was slightly shaking as I opened it up to find a detailed account of how my wife imagined what transforming her husband into a “sissy maid” would be like. Making me serve her every whim and idea. Tying her maid up, using him as a sex toy and ravaging him with a strap-on. The last few paragraphs kind of scared me as she went on to describe her maid serving and servicing her guests at a party, both female and male.
I was shocked that my wife had had these thoughts. We’ve never even considered bringing others into our sexual relationship and here she described quite graphically how she would force me to have sex with others. It was upsetting, but I couldn’t deny the fact that her fantasy had also turned me on.
I went back to the story of the guy transforming himself into a woman and reread it completely. I imagined myself as the author and got incredibly turned-on. I stripped down and headed for the bathroom to masturbate in the shower. Debbie’s fantasy ran through my thoughts as I came under the flow of hot water. It had been a long time since I last jerked myself off and I couldn’t remember having such an explosive orgasm as the one I’d just experienced.
Recuperating under the shower I looked up and spotted the bottle of Nair Debbie used on hair legs and I thought of the times I’d watched her use it. A compulsion came over me, turning off the water and drying myself quickly I grabbed the bottle. Without thinking of the possible repercussions I started to spread the lotion from my ankles up. I’m not an overly hairy person and within minutes I was covered from the neck down with the bluish cream. My penis was again erect sticking straight out from lotion covered pubic hair. While waiting the required fifteen minutes a thought came to me, how would I explain this to my wife. It could take weeks to grow back and I all ready felt slightly ashamed of her possible reaction when she returned.
I quickly jumped into the shower hoping to undo the damage but it was already too late. As the shower washed the cream away my body hair went with it down the drain. Drying myself I stood and looked into the full-length mirror on the back of the door. My mind screamed at my stupidity but my body gave away my true thoughts as I stared at the hairless body in the reflection I began to get another erection.
Throwing on my terry-cloth robe over my total nakedness I went to get a drink. Immediately I could feel the difference in how the fabric felt against me as walked to the bar in the den. My skin was much more sensitive and I seemed to have a tingling sensation spread through my entire body with every step. I felt incredibly aroused as I sat on a stool and knocked back a couple of shots.
After the fourth shot I began to feel a little more at ease and thought about what I had done. Maybe I’d just give her a surprise on her return. Deb had asked me in the past to shave off my pubic hair but I never let her. Maybe I could get away with it if I presented the situation in the right light. As I consoled myself with that thought I began once again to notice the physical feelings my body was experiencing. Every movement even one as simple as raising my glass to drink had an effect on me.
I closed my eyes and slipped a hand inside my robe and lightly caressed my hairless skin. I shivered uncontrollably at the sensations that slight touch gave me. Swallowing the last mouthful in my glass I stood and walked with a newfound determination into the bedroom and stopped in front of Deb’s dresser.
My hands shook with nervousness as I opened the drawer that held her lingerie. Carefully, so as not to disturb the contents too much I removed a pair of black silk stockings. I knew she had a set of matching panties, garter belt and bra that I had bought her last Valentines Day and that set, was what I searched for. Debbie and I are the same height and I’m only slightly heavier than she is so I was sure they fit without too much difficulty.
I couldn’t believe the feeling I got as the cool silk fabric covered me. The lace edging of the garter belt created a slight scratchy feeling on my now tender skin but it just added to the overall arousal that I was feeling When I sat at on the edge of the bed to put on the stockings I noticed a large blob of precum that would of certainly stain Debbie’s underwear. With a thumb and finger I pinched the drop from the end of the glans and looked at the thick clear fluid. An urge overcame me and without thinking I licked my fingers and savoured the taste of it on my tongue. I would have never imagined doing something like this before but it tasted rather pleasant and I wondered to myself why I never tried it before. By the time I had the silk hose clipped to the garter belt I was shaking with excitement and the pre cum was almost dripping from my aching penis. Once again I licked from my fingers and shivered before sliding the French cut panties up my legs. I let my hardened penis hang throbbing from the leg of the panties.
I struggled into the bra finding that this was one area that our body shapes differed. It was really tight on my chest and of course I couldn’t fill the cups on my own. I dug out a pair of black socks from my dresser and shaped them to fit and placed one in each cup. Glancing at my reflection I felt excited at the image I saw. Except for my face and short hair I thought I looked pretty good.
Next I went to the closet to see if I could find something sexy to wear. I could feel the crotch of the panties rubbing between my ass cheeks as I walked. It was an incredible feeling that made my knees weak. After several minutes of searching I decided on a black spandex dress I bought for Deb in our first year of marriage. She never wore out of the house because she thought it too daring. It was sleeveless, cut low in the back and the hem stopped barely covering the tops of the stockings encasing my legs.
Finding the right shoes was a problem. The only heels Deb had in black where too small for me to cram my feet into. I ended up settling with a pair of white, four inch heeled open toed sandals that strapped up just above the ankle. It was hard at first to stand and walk but they really added to the overall sexy feeling I was enjoying.
Once again I found myself standing in front of the full-length bathroom mirror inspecting myself. I marvelled at the sight in front of me as I turned this way and that. Except for the large lump my hard-on created in the front I felt and looked great. I looked at my hair and wondered what I could do to make my short hair more feminine appearing. I grabbed the styling mousse and went to work I tried several variations and finally decided to spike it letting the front fall over my forehead and pulled the sides down in front of my ears. I was pleased with the look and finished by plucking my browse slightly thinner hoping that no one would be the wiser to my subterfuge.
I tried to walk as I imagined a woman did back to the bar and mixed up a pitcher of martinis thinking the small-stemmed glass would make me feel more elegant. I pondered on what to do next and decided to check out my wife’s little secrets some more.
First I looked over the photos of men in drag she had and found myself mentally comparing me to them. I moved on to the well hung studs and found myself ogling their big cocks and for the first time in my life I wondered how it feel to hold them, stroke them and even if I could have the courage to take one between my lips as Deb had written in her fantasy. I was feeling incredibly aroused and actually shaking with desire. My cock throbbed constantly and I felt I could cum with just a single touch to it.
I moved on to the stories and read one about a woman that sissified her husband to the point that he lived full time as her maid. Submitting to her every whim and desire. As I read the part where he described taking his first penis into his mouth. Tasting a flood of precum as the man grabbed him by the hair and shoved his cock continually in and out of his throat. I pulled the hem of my dress up to expose my erection and gently wrapping my trembling fingers around it. I stroked myself slowly while reading the detailed moments of a sissy maid being face fucked for the first time. I came in my cupped hand so as not stain Deb’s lingerie just as the author described the first blast of cum in his mouth. He detailed the amount and the taste, His mistress ordered him not to loose a drop of the precious seed or swallow until she allowed him too.
Another urge came over me and I fed myself the seed from my cupped palm. It was bitter tasting compared to my precum and held it in my mouth sharing the writer’s ordeal as I read on. His mistress rubbed the man’s softening penis over his face while taunting him with her words about how this was as close as being a real slut as he could be. Finally she asked him if he liked what had just happened and when he nodded yes she aloud him to swallow then kiss his first cock in appreciation before thanking the owner for the privilege of sucking his cock and tasting his seed.
I swallowed with him shared his abasement I felt light-headed and sedate as if I had just finished making love to my wife. There was also an under current of submissiveness surging up from the deeps of my being I never knew existed. I also realized that I liked what I what I had just done and now began to crave even more.
I spent the entire week at home dressed in different outfits of my wives. I read every story she had saved and I remember being in a constant state of arousal masturbating constantly savouring every drop of fluid my penis produced.
I searched through her entire closet and tried on every outfit she owned. At one point I found a wig that Deb had purchased for a witch’s costume several Halloweens ago I got very excited as I rushed to the mirror to see how it looked on me. My own hair is very dark and the long straight black wig was the topping I needed to complete my transformation. I stared in awe at the woman looking back at me.
I also found other secrets in my wife’s closet. Way in the back was an old suitcase I had thought was thrown away a long time ago. When I lifted it out it was easy to tell that wasn’t empty. Placing the case on the bed and opening I was stunned again by Debs seeming duplicity. There in front of me was a collection of articles that fitted in with a scheme that could only be the feminization of a man. The item on top was a pink satin maid’s uniform trimmed in white lace complete with ruffled panties and cap. Underneath that was a shockingly large lifelike dildo attached to a harness. It was plain that they had been opened but never used. Other dildos and vibrators that had no packages with them attested that Deb had been playing while I wasn’t home. I carefully put it all away and hid the case back where I had found it. I went into the other room to sit and think. My excitement grew while contemplating what it would be like when she would finally share all her secrets with me.
On the few occasions that I did venture out I kept on the panties and hose under my male clothing. I wondered to myself if on those occasions if I would have the nerve to leave the house completely dressed in femme. I thought about it often at home also. I even took some photos of myself with our digital and stared endlessly at myself in mirrors. Finally on Wednesday night I realized that all I was doing was trying to convince myself that I could do it. So I made my plans and set the alarm to get up early to get ready for a little shopping trip.
I found myself nervous as soon as my eyes opened to the alarm. My stomach felt fluttery as I showered and after while standing in a dressing robe in the kitchen I felt that if I tried to eat I would be sure to be sick. I went to my wife’s make up table and looked at my reflection and took a few deep breaths and tried to convince myself that I could do it. My hand trembled so badly I had to apply the eyeliner several times. It took me almost two hours before I was satisfied with my look and donned the wig. I sat back and stared at my reflection still indecisive on whether or not this planned foray was right or not. I certainly thought that I looked good enough too myself but what about strangers and what if I found myself facing someone I knew.
Moment by moment my nervousness grew and my shaking hands became wet with sweat as I agonized over all the what ifs. Finally taking a deep breath and shaking myself I stood and went once more to my wife’s dresser to finish getting dressed. Telling myself over and over that it wasn’t anything to worry about until I walked out the door.
It didn’t take long to dress, I already knew what I wanted too wear. First of all I decide to wear a panty girdle I knew my wife kept for her fat days. I certainly didn’t want any bulges showing in the wrong spots. The matching black lingerie and hose I hoped would make me feel confident though it didn’t really and a tan business suit that I thought would go with the white sandals. The skirt was mid-thigh and under the jacket I wore a white satin shirt. A small white handbag seemed to compete the finished mirage as I stare into the full lentgh mirror building up my courage.
Grabbing my car keys I started to the door and realized I would need money and my licence unless I wanted to walk through my neighbourhood like this. Grabbing my wallet and wondering what to do with it a sense of dread washed through as another wave of what ifs came to mind. I told myself to stop making excuses and to get on with it. Taking out a credit card and just what I thought I needed I walked to the door leading out into the garage. My only consolation was the car was parked in the garage so at least no nosy neighbour would see me leave the house. Five minutes later I was heading for the mall.
Once getting there I wasn’t sure what to do and drove around the perimeter twice before a shoe store sign caught my eye. Looking down at the sandals that pinched slightly at the sides of my feet I thought I might feel better wearing a proper fitting shoe and went in search of parking.
The walk from the car was only a few minutes but felt like the longest mile as people passed by me. I felt as if they all stared through my disguise and where laughing at me. I only wish I had the fore sight to bring something that I could use to wipe the dampness from my shaking hands.
Inside was worse, the place was packed with people rushing this way and that bumping into me. Just as I reached the front of the shoe store I felt my ass being groped and turned to see an older man smiling and wink at me. I could feel my face flush as my body shivered. At least one person was fooled I thought to myself and smiled suddenly feeling a little more confident.
I wandered through the store looking at all different styles and colours shoes and boots when I came across a pair of outrageously high black patent leather pumps with ankle straps and immediately felt I had to have them when a salesman approached me.
” Those would be very attractive on such nice long legs as yours Miss.” He stated smiling at me, ” would you like to try on a pair?”
At first I just stared at him thinking oh my God now I have to talk. I never even thought about this aspect of the journey. Trying to recover my composure quickly I smiled and just nodded at him and walked nervously over to a chair. I figured that if I could try to keep the conversation to the barest minimum I’d be all right.
He quickly pulled a stool in front of and offered his hand for my foot and as his fingers gently grasped my lower calve I shivered slightly while tingles raced up my leg. He quickly sized me and placed my stocking covered foot gently on the stool as he rose to retrieve the proper size. He was back before I could catch my breath and lifting my foot by the ankle once again sat at my feet. He expertly slipped my foot into the shoe and strapped it up with on hand while the other felt hot against the back of my leg. In no time at all he’d replaced the sandal on my other foot and stood offering his hand for me to stand. I received another rush as I placed my hand in his and rose feeling shaky with the extra height of the heels. I found myself staring down into the salesman’s blue eyed smiling face.
He kept on holding my hand as I took my first few wobbly steps, he said, ” I imagine it must take getting use to walking in such high heels?”
“Yes.” was all I nervously replied as I turned and walked back to the chair sitting down as gracefully as I could.

It all was turning out to be a lousy day. I never work Saturdays, but today I had to. It had been very busy and I just wanted to get home. After paying my fare, and entering through the turnstiles, the public address system announced that we had to change for a number 4 or 5 train at Forty-second Street. I needed a number four and waited almost an hour. When it came, everyone squeezed on. We were packed like sardines in a can. This nice looking, not beautiful, woman, about 40 years old, was pressed up against me. That is when it began.
As the train lurched out of the station, her hand seemed to brush the front of my pants. I tried to withdraw but the crowd kept me very close. A moment later the train lurched again. Now her hand was gripping my cock through my pants. She was looking in my eyes and smiling. As I stiffened, she leaned against me and whispered something. I reached between us and grabbed her wrist. As I did this, her other hand took mine and guided it to her breast. She smiled to me, whispered in my ear “No one can see.” Her body stayed close and her hand continued to caress me. “It very hard. It’s so long, (gasp) I’m so hot.” She breathed and moaned into my ear. Taking my hand in hers she guided it under her skirt to her wet core. The brunette wore no underwear and gave me free access to her cunt. As she soaked my hand with her juices. Leaning toward me she whispered “we can do it here, and no one will know.”
The train lurched to a stop and more people got on. We were pressed even closer together. My zipper was undone by this strange woman. Her hand reached inside and her long nails caressed my balls, as my thumb caressed her clit. A low sexy moan caressed my ears, as her hand wrapped around my hardon. Then she dropped her purse. “ I gotta pick up my purse.”
Down to her knees she went. Nobody seemed to notice. Her hands fished out my boner as she looked up at me and smiled. As the tunnel darkened, my hard cock was engulfed in her warm wet mouth. As this woman proved that she was a great cock sucker, I closed my eyes and prayed the other commuters could not see her or hear my moans of pleasure. “Station coming up. Get up” She stood up keeping her purse in front of my exposed organ. Leaning against me she kissed and licked my neck. The train stopped and a few passengers got off, but not enough to make much difference.
The doors closed and the train lurched forward. Our bodies were pushed together once again this time she lifted her skirt in front. As I crouched lower, I felt my penis rubbing against her vulva. She groaned and clamped her thighs around my cock. Trapped as it was this caused delicious friction between us as the train bumped and shook. We did not have to move as the train caused a constantly changing fucking motion. She wrapped her arms around my neck and asked “do you want to fuck me?”
“Here?”
“Sure”
“Are you crazy?”
“We won’t get caught”
“lets go to my place.”
“Here or nowhere”
“Do you have a condom?”
“No.”
“Then you let me know, and finish in my mouth. I don’t want to get pregnant.”
“OK!”
The train pulled into the station, and some more people got on. As it lurched out of the station, she whispered to me “now crouch down.” As she guided me to her entrance. I felt the wetness on my penis and thrust into her, as she pressed against me. The train picked up speed. The rocking and shaking motion increased. The train did all the moving and we got all the pleasure. Her mouth locked on mine in a deep passionate kiss. As we got close to a station, we broke the kiss and I told her. “Soon” As she urged me to hold it until we started moving. Then the train began to move and she dropped her purse>
To her knees, mouth on my cock. She sucked and slurped for all she was worth. Urgently hurrying my orgasm. Gripping my balls and caressing them, she brought me over the edge. Emptying my seed into her demanding mouth. Tucking me back in my pants, and closing my fly, she stood up. Opened her mouth to show me my sperm, and then swallowed it.
“Thanks!” She said. “I get off next stop.”
“Can I see you again?”
“No”
“Then spend the night at my place.”
“I can’t”
“I have to hurry home and make dinner for my husband and kids.”

My sister Lynn gazed at me thru hooded and accusatory eyes.
“Is it true?” she demanded.
“Yes.” was my quiet reply.
Lynn shook her head in disgust and sighed very audibly. She didn’t have a bi curious bone in her body and failed to understand when someone, especially her older sister, did.
“It was mutual.” I stated in a factual tone.
Lynn regarded me with suspicion.
“In fact Sis, she was the one who suggested it.” I stated emphatically.
Lynn turned on her heels and left my bedroom shaking her head.
Where do I begin? It was two summers ago. I had finished my sophomore year of college and Lynn was graduating high school.
Lynn’s graduation party was held at our home and it was my first encounter with Jennifer Constantine. I had known Jennifer since she was a skinny twelve year old but by the “ripe old age” of eighteen, she had developed into a bona fide hottie.
During my freshman year at college, I discovered I was bi curious. My roommate Sarah shared the same desire and she was the first of several bi encounters.
When I saw Jennifer at Lynn’s graduation party, I was struck by how mature she looked. We embraced in a friendly way but when Jennifer pulled back, she regarded me with a glint in her eyes.
Even though she was “technically” Lynn’s friend, we shared a close personal friendship. We frequently emailed and IM’d while I was at college. In spite of the lack of verbal communication, her warm and bubbly personality came thru with each communiqué.
Although I mixed and mingled with the other guests, I never lost track of Jennifer in the crowd. Several times she saw me looking and gave me one of her dazzling smiles.
It was long past midnight when the affair finally wound down. I wearily plopped in a chair in the kitchen and Jennifer sat in the chair next to me.
“Hey Tara, wassup?” she inquired innocently.
“Same old crap, different day.” I stated in a wise ass way.
“Have you noticed? Lynn’s drunk as a skunk.” She stated.
“Yeah, I hope she doesn’t hurl before I can get her into bed.” I said wistfully.
As Jennifer chuckled at my comment, we looked for Lynn and found her passed out on the pool deck. With some effort, we managed to get Lynn to her room.
We were changing Lynn’s clothes when her eyes opened with a panic stricken look. That could mean only one thing. I held Lynn’s hair out of the way as she puked the contents of her guts into the toilet.
Finally, with Jennifer’s help, Lynn was safely tucked in.
“She’s gonna have one helluva hangover tomorrow!” Jennifer stated with a loud sigh.
With no ulterior motive on my part, I suggested that Jennifer spend the night. An extra toothbrush and summer PJ’s were located and she readied herself for bed.
When Jennifer reappeared wearing the thin pajamas, my heart skipped a beat. Her nipples poked sexily against the sheer material of the top and her long shiny brown hair was unfettered by a French braid. I admired her flawless olive color skin tone, lean but muscled physique and very pretty facial features.
Jennifer was under the sheet and smiling at me with a sunny expression, when she gave me a quick peck on the cheek.
“Thanks for letting me stay.” She stated with emotion.
For once in my young life, I was tongue tied.
“Tara? Can I tell you something, well, kinda personal?” She inquired with innocence.
“Ah, sure.” I said with skepticism.
“You have to promise you’ll never say anything to Lynn. Promise?” She asked sincerely.
“Girl Scouts Honor!” I stated with my hand over my heart.
Jennifer’s green eyes twinkled with mystery.
“I’ve had a crush on someone, actually a couple of people, for the last year but I don’t think they’ll understand if I approach them.” She said with trepidation.
“Is it Trey Sorrens?” I asked excitedly.
Trey was captain of the high school wrestling team. He spent a long time talking to Jennifer at the party.
“No.” She said flatly.
I went thru a laundry list of possible male aspirants but her answer was the same for each, a resounding “no.”
“Ok, I give up.” I said with exasperation.
“I hope you don’t get mad.” She said with worry in her voice.
“Jennifer we’re friends. You can tell me anything.” I stated with assurance.
“It’s Lynn.” She said very sheepishly.
“You mean Lynn, my sister.” I exclaimed with shock in my voice.
Jennifer’s happy demeanor turned to one of sadness and tears rimmed her sparkling green eyes. Lynn was a 5′ 7″ blonde bombshell with big 36D tits. From the tender age of fourteen, she never lacked for dates with the opposite sex.
“When did you realize you had feelings for her?” I asked with a perturbed look on my face.
“It started last summer when I was hanging out here a lot.” She said with a downcast face
Tears were rolling down Jennifer’s cheeks and I tenderly dabbed a tissue at them to staunch the flow. She was sitting up, hugging her knees and rocking back and forth.
“The sight of you and Lynn in bikini’s really turned me on. Oops! Oh shit!” she declared and buried her head in her hands.
Jennifer’s revelation was a stunner and instinctively, I embraced her. While Lynn was a full figured hottie, I was an inch shorter and slender with a smaller chest.
“I feel so ashamed but I’ve held it inside for so long that I had to tell someone.” She stated woefully and tearfully.
As I held Jennifer, I stroked her lustrous hair, trying to soothe her jangled nerves.
“There is absolutely nothing to be ashamed about.” I declared forcefully.
“You’re just bi curious.” I said diagnosing the situation.
“No Tara. I’m sure I like girls.” She said with a shamefaced expression.
“But, you dated some really hot guys.” I countered.
“I tried to like them, I really did.” She stated with a hangdog expression.
“I remember when I puked in the school parking lot after I gave Danny Sommers a blow job. He was so pissed at me.” she said dejectedly.
Again, I pulled her close and held her tight.
“My Mom and Dad will never understand.” She stated in a blubbering voice.
“Try to get some sleep and we’ll talk tomorrow. I won’t breathe a word to Lynn.” I said wearily.
Jennifer lay back on the bed and regarded me with genuine affection. The look in her eyes turned my insides to mush and I leaned down and kissed her full on the lips.
That sparked a make out session of epic proportions. Our tongues intertwined in an oral dance of yearning. When we came up for air, we were both breathing very hard.
“Whew! That was great!” Jennifer crowed.
“Have you had any experiences?” I inquired.
“A couple; the first was with Becky Rissingham after a chorus concert. She offered to give me a ride home and in the back of my mind I knew she was bi.” She stated.
“What happened?” I asked as my curiosity got the best of me.
“We kinda started kissing in the car. Then she asked if I wanted to stay overnight. In her bedroom we started making out and she grabbed my boobs.” She said with some passion.
“Did that bother you?” I asked with the steam rising between my legs.
“No. It was a real turn on and I let her suck my tits. Next thing I knew she was licking me.” Jennifer said in a happy memory voice.
“What about you?” she asked with real inquisitiveness.
“Oh, I’ve had a few since high school.” I stated trying to sound nonchalant.
In spite of the sexually charged atmosphere, we were both yawning. I kissed Jennifer on the forehead and bade her goodnight.
As I lay in bed, thoughts of me licking Jennifer dominated my conscious mind and I fingered myself to oblivion.
The next morning I woke to the sound of splashing water in the pool. Jennifer was swimming laps and I rushed to join her.
“Hi Tara!” she greeted me warmly with a broad smile.
“Having fun?” I asked sweetly.
“I’d give anything to have a pool in my backyard.” She gushed.
After eight good laps to shake the cobwebs, I left to check on Lynn and lo and behold she’s sitting in the kitchen with bloodshot eyes. The screened door accidentally banged against the frame when I entered.
“OH, my aching head.” Lynn moaned.
I quickly prepared a pot of coffee and sent Lynn to the shower. When she returned, I shoved a hot mug of java in her hand and two Tylenol in her mouth. She retired to the den sofa for the rest of the afternoon.
Jennifer looked like a Greek goddess in her string bikini. Little twitches and tingles reverberated in my crotch whenever I gaped at her gorgeous body.
Jennifer’s admission about her sexuality had shaken me to my soul. I was so busy exploring my bi side the last two years that I hadn’t been with a guy sexually since high school. Mentally, I questioned my preference for women, at least for the moment.
True to my word, I said absolutely nothing to Lynn about Jennifer’s sexual leanings. But, Jennifer was spending a great deal of time at our home and it was usually with me. Lynn was sure to notice.
Our little escapade on graduation night was still fresh in my memory when I made a detour one afternoon to the downtown shopping district. Jennifer worked at her dad’s pizzeria and she was grinning from ear to ear when she saw me.
“Hey! What a neat surprise.” She stated warmly and gave me a friendly hug.
Constantine’s Pizzeria and Restaurant was very popular and today was no exception; there wasn’t a seat to be had. Jennifer insisted that I eat at the employees’ dining table in the back room.
“Are you busy tonight?” she asked cautiously.
“Why? What’s goin on?” I inquired.
“There’s a free concert at Waterfront Park and my dad won’t let go by myself.” She said sadly.
Jennifer leaned in real close and whispered in my ear.
“Will you be my date tonight?”
“Yeah! Sure!” I declared with a look of longing.
“OK! Then we’ll consider this delicious Calzone on the house.” She exclaimed happily and set the piping hot dish in front of me.
At 6pm I was on my way back to the pizzeria and my heart was pounding in my chest. I agreed to be Jennifer’s date for the night and I had no idea what that entailed.
Jennifer was waiting outside and waved enthusiastically when she saw me. She was wearing a spaghetti strap T, shorts and flip flops.
“Hi!” she exclaimed in her bubbly way and gave me peck on the cheek. I was driving with my left hand on the steering wheel when she reached down and brought my right one up for a smooch.
“Thanks Tara.” She said affectionately and held my palm tightly against her cheek.
The endearing gesture tugged on my heart strings and hot tears enveloped my eyes.
At the concert we spread a tarp and blanket on the ground. No alcoholic beverages were permitted but I and many others brought wine coolers or similar libations.
The bands were regional favorites and with half a dozen wine cooers circulating in our veins, we danced with abandon. I have to say that Jennifer was one talented dancer with a sexy fluid gracefulness.
The last band was the folksy acoustical type and as we sat on the blanket, Jennifer took my hand in hers and held it tight. Needless to say I was stunned but I realized that she had been dead serious about the “date.”
Jennifer refused to let go of my hand until the concert was over and only so we could fold the blanket and tarp. As we walked to the car she took my hand and held it like a lover on a date.
My heart was beating a mile a minute as I drove her home. But, inspiration in the form of an idea popped in my head and I drove to Walkers Overlook, the local lovers’ lane.
I parked as far away from the other cars as possible and Jennifer had a look of yearning on her face. We kissed passionately and with lustful need.
My hand found its way into her shorts and I lovingly stroked her sopping wet slit.
“Oh Tara!” she cried and humped my hand.
Jennifer’s copious juices coated my fingers and after she came like an express train, I licked the tangy fluid with delight.
Suddenly, Jennifer sat up and checked her watch.
“Oh Fuck! Its’ past 1am!” she yelled.
“Call your folks and tell them you’re with me.” I demanded.
Jennifer did as she was told and when we arrived at her home, I apologized to her parents’ for the lateness. My suggestion worked and they were relieved that she was safe and sound.
The next morning I was preparing for a summer job interview when my cell phone text message alert sounded. It was Jennifer. With the limited amount of time before my interview, I decided to call.
“Hi Tara! Can you spare some time for me this morning” she stated in her effervescent way.
“I have an interview and I probably won’t be back before noon.” I said with regret.
“Gosh, I have to work the lunch shift at the pizzeria.” She replied sadly.
“I’m not busy tonight. Come over about seven.” I said doggedly.
“Ok, great!” Jennifer said in her lively way.
“Stay overnight if you like.” I hinted shamelessly.
“I’d love too!” she declared with enthusiasm.
Promptly at seven the doorbell alerted me to Jennifer’s arrival but Lynn got to the door first.
“Yo girlfriend! Wassup?” Lynn asked a sheepish looking Jennifer.
But, Jennifer was one cool customer.
“I was cruising past on my way to the mall and decided to say hello.” She said convincingly.
Jennifer strolled into the kitchen and gave a “whew” sign with her hand passing over her forehead. Lynn was late for a date and flew out the door amid goodbyes.
Jennifer sat across from me and held my hand in the same loving manner as last night. My heart was all atwitter from her display of affection. I was having romantic feelings for the Greek vixen and I was completely unnerved.
“How bout a swim?” I asked eagerly trying to offset the mood.
“I don’t have my bikini.” She stated with an anxious look on her very pretty face.
“My folks are at the seashore for the weekend so, who needs one!” I stated boldly.
The long shadows of evening stretched across the lawn as Jennifer and I shed our clothes in the sun porch.
“Jeronimo!” Jennifer yelled and dove butt naked into the deep end.
I quickly followed suit and we swam laps with languorous ease.
Jennifer was floating on her back when I dove under and pinched her cute rear.
“You little brat! She declared and chased me from one end of the pool to the other.
Finally, I jumped on her back and held on with my arms around her neck. As Jennifer slowly waded around the pool, I dropped my hands to her chest and fondled her firm breasts. Her nipples elongated and tightened from my touch as my slick pussy humped her back.
With our passion rising to nuclear hot levels, we exited the pool and raced to my bedroom. Jennifer was standing in the room with her hands folded and hiding her sex. She had a shy expression on her face.
“I wish I was clean shaven like you.” She stated bashfully and pointed to my bald box.
Without saying a word I took Jennifer’s hand and led her into my bathroom. She sat on the small vanity and spread wide. I thought the dark brown pubes were a turn on but if Jennifer wanted a hairless crotch, then so be it!
Carefully I scraped the tender area clean with a new razor and rinsed with warm water. With her newly shaven pussy glistening with water and her juices, I took a long flat tongued lick up her soaked slit.
“Oh Tara!” She moaned.
Jennifer’s muscular buns fit in the palms of my hands as I drew her dripping snatch closer. Gently, I lapped the moist fleshy folds and drilled a finger into her drooling hole. The pungent aroma and tart taste were intoxicating as I sucked her creamy girl cum down my eager throat.
Never before had I experienced hot sexual yearning of this magnitude for someone. With a ravenous appetite, I devoured her soaking wet pussy.
“Oh Tara! Oh God!” She howled with fervor.
Even with my mind totally focused on Jennifer’s magnificent gash, I heard a car door slam and voices.
I jumped off the bed.
“Oh my God! It’s Lynn!” I shrieked.
Jennifer raced into the shower and I quickly put on a sports bra and shorts.
“Oh shit! Our clothes are down by the pool.” I declared loudly.
Too frightened to move, I listened with every fiber of my being for the back door to open. But, it never did.
Stealthily, I crept to the window and saw Lynn with a guy I didn’t recognize, making out like two sex fiends on a pool lounger. Jennifer finished her shower and was standing next to me when she gasped.
“Who’s that?” I inquired.
“That’s Barry Carver with Lynn.” She stated with surprise.
Jennifer was staring intently at the two figures on the lounger.
“He’s kind of a geek but a cute geek.” She said with first hand knowledge.
From our vantage point we had a clear view of the action. Lynn was pawing at Barry’s belt buckle and sure enough down went his blue jeans.
“Wow! Barry’s packin some meat.” I stated in an admiring voice. The boy had a very impressive boner.
Lynn was eyeing his trouser snake with a look of pure lust.
“Look at Lynn go!” Jennifer commented with awe in her voice.
Lynn’s head was flying up and down the length of Barry’s cock. Faintly, we could hear his moans and groans. With rapt attention, we watched my sister give Barry the blow job of a lifetime.
“Yuck, I think she’s swallowing his cum.” Jennifer declared with disgust and turned away.
I had blown a few guys in high school and disliked the taste of sperm. Lynn’s mouth was milking his big rod for any remaining drops of semen and I had to admit, I found the situation very erotic.
The next morning, I was helping Jennifer tidy up the spare bedroom and her pensive mood caught me off guard.
“Is something wrong?” I inquired.
“No. I was hoping, oh, just forget it.” She said wistfully.
Jennifer’s demeanor was completely out of character. I took her hands in mine and looked into her troubled eyes.
“What’s bothering you? You can tell me.” I asked with tenderness.
“I was hoping we could talk about…but, I…ah…oh what’s the use!” She stated with frustration
“Jennifer, whatever it is, please tell me.” I pleaded.
Jennifer’s eyes were rimmed with tears and she tried to look away but my gaze held her.
“I think I’m falling in love with you.” She said in a soft voice and buried her head against my neck.
Jennifer’s declaration staggered me and my heart erupted with emotion.
“You’re not mad?” She asked in a shy and tentative voice.
“Jennifer!” I cried and as hot tears shrouded my eyes, I kissed her with unrestrained ardor.
I wanted to make love to her in the worst way but with Lynn’s room across the hall, I had to be patient.
“When can I see you again?” she asked in a timid voice.
My summer job at the mall started the next day and with my sister and parents around it created an intimacy problem. I got another brainstorm.
“My folks aren’t going to the beach house next weekend. Want to go with me?” I inquired with eagerness.
“Uh huh.” She replied very shyly.
There was only one problem with my “brilliant” idea; Lynn. For once fate was in my corner. Lynn was attending an overnight graduation party at her friend Sherry’s home.
Because of my excellent track record as a very responsible daughter, my parents’ had no problem with my seashore venture. I spent the days in restless anticipation of the weekend.
With conflicting work schedules, I saw precious little of Jennifer. By Thursday, I missed her so much that I drove downtown to the pizzeria. When she saw me her eyes lit up.
“Hey you!” she crowed.
Jennifer had to retrieve some lettuce from cold storage and forcibly dragged me with her. As soon as we were inside the door, she kissed me with uninhibited zeal. I thought my heart would burst out of my chest.
I could barely concentrate on my job that afternoon and my boss caught me daydreaming several times.
When I saw Jennifer waiting outside the pizzeria for me, she took my breath away. With her French braided hair, tiny bikini top and very short shorts, she resembled a mythical sea goddess.

I had seen Caroline around campus before and occasionally out at the bars at night. She was a total knockout, a red-haired beauty with big brown eyes that would melt you if you stared at them too long. There was something about her that looked so vulnerable, so innocent. She had a cute little nose, just slightly dotted with freckles, high cheek bones, beautiful skin, and round full lips.
I watched her, sitting at the bar, wearing a denim miniskirt and a tiny white top, which left her belly exposed. She sat with her legs crossed, a sandal dangling off her right foot. I watched her place a plastic straw between her beautiful, glossy lips and take a long slow drink. She noticed that she had my attention. Letting the straw slide out from between her lips, she softly bit her lower one and winked at me, letting her full lip slip out from her teeth.
I smiled back and she glanced down at the bar stool beside her.
I looked behind me, to make sure I wasn’t about to make a fool of myself, which made her giggle a bit, then walked over and sat beside her.
“Hi,” she said softly. “I’m Caroline.” She smiled and offered me her hand.
I smiled back, “Geoffrey,” I said, and took her hand, gently shaking it. Her touch lingered as her hand slipped back away from mine. I could smell her perfume, just a hint of it, but enough to draw me closer.
We chatted for a few hours, I bought her a few drinks, and we talked about the people we knew, the classes we were taking, things we had in common and the things we didn’t.
Around eleven, she told me she needed to be getting home, and much to my surprise, she invited me to come back with her. I nearly fell over myself agreeing. She seemed to like that.
Once we were in her apartment, her demeanor changed. I shut the door and turned back around, only to see her slowly lowering the zipper on the side of her skirt. Her skirt fell to the floor and she stepped out of it, her lips now turned to a sexy little pout, she placed her hand on my cheek and looked into my eyes, “I really like you Geoff, I think we could have a lot of fun together.”
I swallowed, looking down at her purple thong, her long legs, her bare tummy, and I felt my cock starting to swell. I shifted my hips a little, hoping to adjust it, so my erection wouldn’t be so noticeable.
She noticed.
“Let me help you with that,” she said, looking at me with her head lowered, eyes peering through her red bangs. Her little hand slowly passed over my crotch, taking hold of my cock, squeezing gently, tugging a little, rubbing. She smiled and moaned a bit.
Her hand on my cheek slid down my chest, over my stomach and found my zipper, which she slowly lowered. Her hands now freed my cock from my underwear and through the open fly of my pants. I was rock hard now, straining as she wrapped her hand very slowly around my shaft, turned and giggled, “Follow me,” she said, tugging my cock as she walked.
She led me to her bedroom, and told me to lie down on the bed. “Hands over your head,” she said. I stretched out. She took her time removing my shirt, her fingers playing with my nipples, and running over my chest and stomach. Once my shirt was removed, she did the same, revealing a beautiful, lacy, white bra.
She took my hands and raised them higher over my head, guiding each one to a soft leather cuff, which she buckled around my wrists. She smiled playfully, “Now you are mine.” I smiled back, “No complaints here,” I said. She bit her lip, her smile growing wider, “Oh, they’ll come later. Don’t worry.”
She slid down and was now working my pants and underwear off, stripping me totally naked. Much to my surprise, she didn’t cuff my ankles, but instead, pullout two cuffs, attached to the bed midway up, and began buckling them around my knees, spreading my legs as wide as I could manage.
She lowered her head and took my cock deep inside her mouth, slowly raising up, letting those soft full lips slide over the shaft, the tip of her tongue, tracing along the underside. I arched my back and raised my hips as best I could, moaning and twisting.
She looked at me, her head tilted. “I love big, hard, swollen cocks. I love playing with them,” she said, her finger tips tracing along the underside of the shaft and around the head. “For hours, and hours, and hours.”
She looked at me and pouted, “You aren’t going to cum and ruin all my fun are you?” I looked at her puzzled. “When you cum,” she explained, “it gets all soft and no fun. I’m going to keep it nice and hard, but you have to promise not to cum, OK?”
“But if I cum, you can make it hard again,” I protested.
She shook her head. “Not the same,” she said somewhat insistently.
“I can cum more that once a night,” I said, somewhat proudly.
“Not tonight you can’t,” she said, her fingers playing with my hard cock again.
I pressed my cock harder into her hand, thrusting. She pulled back. “Now try to hold still.”
I resisted the urge to move as she wrapped her hand around me and squeezed and then let go, squeezed and let go, over and over. My heart was racing and my mind started to spin as I tugged at my bound wrists.
“Please,” I whispered.
She leaned over, her face close to mine, her hair falling around her, brushing my cheeks. “I love when boys beg,” she hissed.
“Please, I need to cum,” I begged.
She sat up, “No, you don’t. You *want* to cum. You don’t *need* to,” she spoke slowly stressing the two words, her tone flat almost instructional. She looked down at me, as innocent and cute as I had ever seen her, “You’ll *need* to cum later.” The she leaned down, those beautiful lips pressed against my ears, “Wanna know a secret,” she whispered. I nodded. “I’m not going to let you cum then, either.”
“Pleeeeeeeease, let me go,” I pleaded.
She sat back on the bed, her hand on my cock again squeezing as it throbbed in her grasp. She just slowly shook her head, saying nothing.
“You know, Geoff, I slept all morning and all afternoon. You know why?” I just closed my eyes.
“So I can stay up allllllll nigggggght long,” she kept squeezing. I started to squirm, tugging harder at my cuffs now.
She removed her hand, shaking her head. She wagged her finger. “Now what did I say about sitting still?” I opened my eyes just in time to she her open palm swinging toward my hard cock. There was a smack, followed by an intense stinging.
She was pouting. “Don’t make me punish it. It is much more fun to play, don’t you think?”
I was whimpering now, “Oh God, Oh God.” She was smiling again. “That’s much better, isn’t it?” Her hand was gently stroking me as I began to throb even more.
“I know it aches when I rub it,” she continued, “But it can be even worse when I don’t,” her hands moved from my cock to the inside of my thighs, her fingernails tracing along the insides, right up to my cock, where she stopped. She touched my stomach, massaged my balls, and played with my pubic hair, while my cock bobbed up and down, twitching, needing to be touched again.
“Can you please rub it again?” I asked, feeling somewhat humbled.
Again, she refrained from speaking, just biting her lip and slowly shaking her head.
Finally, the frustration got the best of me and I twisted and turned, trying to get free, get some relief, some sort of sensation on my cock.
She pulled back, laughing this time. “Frustrating? Isn’t it?”
I nodded, almost ready to cry.
She looked at me, head cocked, “Poor baby, all frustrated and no way to get any relief.”
“Please let me go,” I pleaded.
“Ask nicely,” she said, head still cocked, watching me.
“Pleeeeeeeeeease,” I moaned, desperately.
“Say pretty please,” she taunted.
“Pretty please,” I said, blushing.
“With a cherry on top?” she asked.
I swallowed, “Pretty please with a cherry on top,” I said, cheeks burning.
She could barely contain herself. She shook her head. “Sorry, I’m having too much fun.”
She reached over to the stand beside the bed, and pull out a long, white feather. She cuddled up with me, tracing the feather over my stomach, her other hand playing with my hair. “This is a fun game. I like using the feather to make your cock twitch, without making it cum. I love seeing it twitch. Do you like feeling it twitch?” I shook my head. She ignored my response.
“Please, don’t” was all I could manage. She smiled and moaned, “That’s right, beg.” I could feel her breathing increase as she pressed against me.
She started to grind into me, pressing herself against my hip bone, thrusting against it. The more I begged, the more desperate I grew, the hotter she got, squirming and humping against me.
The the feather started doing its work, barely brushing against me, barely touching, sending every nerve ending into a state of electric arousal. My cock, aching, straining, started to twitch, needing more contact that the feather could provide, inching me closer and closer to an orgasm, but not quite enough.
“Please, don’t do this to me anymore Caroline, please,” I begged, my voice shallow and desperate.
Her lips, pressed to my ear again, whispered. “I want to tell you,” her breathing so heavy, her words so mixed with arousal, “How wet I am, how tight, how good it would feel for you to be inside me, to fuck me.” She moaned, her wetness soaking through her panties so I could feel it where she pressed against me. “Do you want that, do you want to fuck me?” She sounded as desperate as I felt.
“Yesssss,” I cried out, “I want to fuck you, more than anything. Please, God, please let me fuck you.” My mind was so lost, I didn’t realize I was crying until her tongue slid along my cheek, licking my tears as she started to cum, slowly at first, then turning almost violent in her thrusts and squirming.
The feather brushed down and sent me to the very edge of an orgasm, I tensed, waiting for the next sensation, anything, even a breeze would have done it.
As she finished her orgasm, she curled up close, nibbling on my earlobe, but ignoring my cock. She put the feather down. She began tracing her fingertip over my lips, touching them gently, teasingly.
She sat, quietly, holding me for a few minutes, while I whimpered, asking her over and over to help me, touch me, to let me cum. Finally, she stood up and pulled a robe on. “I am going to have a cigarette, I’ll be back in a bit,” she stopped and looked at me. She smiled wickedly and pulled out a sleep mask, placing it over my eyes. I felt her kiss my forehead, “Be right back.”

It began as an experiment by my boss at work. He decided to diversify the office and appointed me the online mortgage headhunter. What this led to was the freedom to work outside of the office and as months went by I spent more and more time at home than at work. That is a direct opposite of my wife who began working more and more hours at the hospital and I admit left me with far too much time on my hands. This led me to a daily perusal of some of the seamier sites on the web until after a month or so I was hooked continuing to venture farther into that world.
After months of voyeurism on the web, I found a site that offered to ship customers used panties through the mail. Since I was a small boy, I have had an infatuation with sexy, silky underwear and before my marriage I had even bought a pair for the sole pleasure of masturbation. I went back to this site on occasion, but never had the nerve to fill out the form, lest my wife would find out my perversion, a perversion I am sure she would not understand.
One day as I was surfing, I noticed a new model on the site. She was a gorgeous blonde with a lovely smile and a fantastic backside and claimed that she would masturbate in her panties then send them sealed in a baggie for a nominal fee. I had the uncontrollable hunger to know what that beauty would smell, and yes, even taste like and with trembling fingers I filled in the form and did the unthinkable; gave out my credit card number. It took me three tries. The advertisement said three to five days for delivery and I waited anxiously for them to arrive. You’re probably wondering why I don’t just take out my obsession on my wife’s clothing, but she has been brought up very strictly, almost severely and, to my knowledge, has never owned a pair. And in honesty, it just wouldn’t have the sense of adventure that goes along with this little endeavor.
After three days I became nervous about what I had done, by the fifth day I was on pins and needles. I went back to the site to review my purchase and to my horror I saw that I had typed an 8 in the address instead of a 6. If the package had come, it would have been delivered to the house next door!
The couple who lived next door were not bad people. The husband was a good ole boy from here and was a real nice guy. The wife, however, was another story. She was a stay home wife with three kids who always seemed to have an active feud with other mothers in the neighborhood. She wore clothes that were too expensive for his salary and was usually highly doused with that obsession perfume. My wife referred to her as a bit slutty, but was still polite to her. And this was the woman I would have to confront if I were to get my package.
That night she came over to the house a bit sloshed. I thought for sure she was going to hand me the package and my wife would want me to open it and it would be the most humiliating night of my life. But she came over to talk to my wife about what a bastard everyone was on the street, except us, including her husband who was trying to make peace with some woman who had taken legal action against her.
Ida was dressed in very tight jeans and a sequined black silk blouse with enough buttons undone to let everyone see that she was amply endowed in the chest area. I brought her a drink, intoxicated by the perfume and the push up bra she was revealing to me as I bent over. She wanted to know if we wanted to go out for some drinks. I said yes, my wife a definite no. She hugged my wife out on the porch and apologized for bending her ear back. She looked a little pissed or it was just a flash. She caught me while I was a step down mashing my face into those scented pillows. I was a nervous wreck waiting for the shoe to drop, when she looked into my eyes and began to speak.
“Why couldn’t I have found a man like you?” she hugged me again then brushed past me to leave.
“What was that all about?” I sat outside with my wife. “She thinks that Dan is having an affair with her arch enemy Vera,” I noticed my wife’s peaches were tightly wrapped in her frumpy sweatshirt.
The next morning I was really high strung as I surfed the net. I came upon the blonde in a number of poses on a different site. They sent me into a frenzy and I needed some kind of release, my pent up emotions from the previous five days didn’t help. I went into the hamper and found some of my wife’s underwear and took them into the guest room. I lay down and placed the pile upon my face and began jacking off breathing in the aroma until strings of cum burst onto my stomach. As I was leaving, I had the uncomfortable feeling of being watched, I turned quickly but could see nothing through the blinds.
The next morning I went out to get the paper and on my way back I noticed the mailbox lid was raised. To my delight, inside was my package. I was as giddy as a schoolboy tearing the box apart revealing the baggie inside with my treasure. I had not felt this way since the first time I found a Playboy under my father’s bed and faked sick so that I could spend all day with it. I pulled up the jpegs of the girl I had saved the previous day and as I went from one pose to the other I held those luscious panties below my nose and sniffed the fragrant aroma.
I jerked off three times that morning, picturing that young thing bent over telling me what to do, where to put my tongue, where to put my dick. It was intoxicating. I tried to concentrate on work, but every few minutes I had to return to those jpegs and those panties. I barely had time to secure my treasure in the closet after I heard my wife’s car pull up the driveway. It was our sex night, but my wife was tired and I was relieved to not have to try to get hard again after my day.
The next morning I awoke with a stiffy. Through slits in my eyes, I watched as my wife bent over in her panties to shuck her slacks up her legs. God, I was turning into a pervert, but it was my wife. As soon as the front door shut, I leapt out of bed and went to the closet. I was determined to hold off my ejaculation for as long as I could, teasing myself with the panties throughout the day. After priming myself, I went out to get the paper and I noticed that Ida was working in the garden. She was wearing denim shorts, a sleeveless t-shirt and a straw hat and I caught myself mesmerized by her voluptuous ass, so different than my wife’s skinny bum, as she bent over the garden. I could glimpse the sides of her boobs as they hung down within the shirt. I’m not sure how long I stood there staring, but eventually she turned and gave me a smile and a wave. Embarrassed, I waved back and headed back into the house.
I sat back down at the computer to get some work done, but my mind kept drifting back to Ida and the garden. I went into the guest bedroom where I could peek through the blinds and I had a great view of her ass stretching the confines of the denim. A great idea struck me and I went to the hallway closet and pulled down the binoculars.
From my vantage point I could that the jeans didn’t quite cover her globes and the bottom eighth of them were displayed. I could see where the denim veed into the crotch and I could see a strip of green and a few black hairs hanging from the threads.
I stripped off my clothing and grabbed my cock in one hand while I panned her entire body with the specs. This was better than the panties in the mail, this was real. I was wanking on my pod and drinking her in and she suddenly got up and stretched. I was spellbound as those enormous orbs stretched the fabric of her shirt, then I realized that she was looking right at my window. I shot my spunk against the wall, turning away for fear the glasses were reflecting. When I looked again she had vanished.
I’m not sure what emotions ran through me at that point. If she saw me she might tell my wife then I would have to explain. I went through the rest of the day in a daze, the last thing on my mind was getting off, so I poured myself into my work and finished a stage of my project. I called my boss and drove down to work to present it that afternoon.
When I arrived home it was after five and my face drained of color when I saw out on the porch my wife and Ida drinking screwdrivers and chatting and laughing. Visions of what may have transpired between those two sent me into a dither and I was close to non responsive when my wife called out to me to make more drinks and bring them out. Reluctantly I entered the porch and served the drinks. Both women were half lit giggling and talking like schoolgirls as I stood nerve shaken beside them. They said some demeaning things about men ‘little boys with little toys’ and how they would do anything to get into girl’s panties. Laughing the entire time while I just stood there.
A wave of humiliation washed over me and I was mortified to feel the beginning pulse of my cock as it began to harden. But the worst moment was when my wife slapped my ass and ordered me to make more drinks. The gales of laughter assaulted me as I meekly went into the kitchen to stir.
That night my wife took my cock in her mouth. It was a rare occasion, my wife giving head, but tonight was different as she controlled the action with me just lying there. She would lick, jerk, go down on me, start moaning with no discernable rhythm as if by whim. She was pretty drunk so that might have been it. She then began jerking me hard and when she snaked a finger up my ass I came in spurts. She told me to clean up and go to sleep.
The next several days I worked diligently upon my project, the reminder that the panties were in the closet kept gnawing at me. I finally succumbed and, don’t even ask me why, but I took the panties down, stripped, and then put them on. The silk felt great against my skin and I was able to get back to work without the itch to do something. I noticed that Ida was out in her garden every morning wearing the same shorts and shirt, but I felt I had dodged a bullet as nothing was said by my wife or her. My wife had mentioned that the other night was just another bitch session between Ida and her feuding neighbors and her dissatisfaction with her husband and she hoped I wasn’t too offended.
That Friday, I had finished one more aspect of the project and was planning on having a little fun. As I went out to get the paper, I noticed Ida in a nightgown bending over to get hers. Her nightgown was translucent in the morning sunlight and the curves of her ass were joyously prominent. She appeared to take a little too long bending and even squatted so that her knees separated giving me an unadulterated view of everything.
I went back into the house and put on my panties. It was exhilarating knowing that they had touched the young girl’s most private places and were now touching mine. I went into the guest room to do a little caressing and noticed out the window that Ida was bent over that garden again. I drank in the globes of her asscheeks peeking out from her shorts for a minute, and then proceeded to lie down in the bed. I began caressing myself through the panties lost in the passion of my imagination when a shadow, like when a plane flies overhead, passed against the window. I bolted up and looked but there was no one there. As I lay back down the phone rang.
“Could you come over here please,” it was Ida “there’s a snake in my garden. Please get over here, I’m terrified of snakes.” I rushed to pull up my shorts and throw on a shirt and ran over to her house. She was in the kitchen waiting for me.
“Where is it?”
“Oh it’s around,” she got up and walked towards me. She rubbed her hand up and down the crotch of my shorts, against the panties. “I’m sure it will pop up any minute.” I was flabbergasted as I watched her step back.
“I like to see panties on a little boy,” she smirked.
“What!”
“You are wearing your little panties, aren’t you?” she looked me square in the eyes. “You know, when that package came for you, I just had to know what was in it.” I began to blush. “Imagine my surprise when I took out those model’s panties and on the note it said enjoy.” I looked down at the floor humiliated. “I thought so little dickie has a thing for panties, so you know what I did?” she grabbed my chin in her nails forcing me to look into her eyes again.
“I switched her panties for a pair of my own. All this time you’ve been sniffing my pussy nectar, you’ve been jerking off to the smell of my cunt.” She let go and looked at my crotch. “Well, there’s little snakey now.” I couldn’t believe it; my dick was at full mast.
“Ida, I…” she raised a hand and I stopped talking.
“So you know what else I did,” she smiled like a cat looking at the canary, “I put on your little model’s panties. I’ve been wearing them out in the garden all week.” She turned like a model. “So now I’d like to know if you want to do another little exchange,” she unsnapped the top button of her jeans. “Your model’s panties for mine.”
“You do have them on?” She looked at me knowingly, but I felt I had to bluff.
“Of course not. What would I be doing with panties on?”
“Okay, if that’s how you want to be. We’ll make a little bet,” she pushed her chest out. “If you aren’t wearing panties I will get on my knees and give you the best most whorish blow job you’ve ever gotten in your life. But if you are wearing my panties, well, we’ll just let things run their own course.”
“This is ridiculous,” I turned to leave, “I’ve got work to do.”
“What about wifey?” her voice rose. “You wouldn’t want me talking to her would you? I turned and she stepped towards me. “I’ve seen how many times you’ve taken the opportunity to look down my blouse. I saw how your eyes were fixed on my ass. Does wifey have anything to rival these,” she hefted her boobs in her hands. “Or this?” she turned and patted her rump. “Now, drop those goddamn shorts before I lose my temper.” Sheepishly I reached for the top button on my shorts and undid it.
“All the way, stud. In fact we’ll do it together.” We both dropped our shorts at the same time. Her laughter dug into me like a knife, tearing away my self-confidence. “See how yours are all stretched by that little snakey,” she turned to model. “See how tight these are on me. See what I’ve put up with, these seams creeping up my ass, this crotch rubbing away at my pussy. I can’t tell you how many times I came in these tiny little things.” My eyes glued to the floor.
“It looks like you won’t be getting that blow job after all,” she laughed again and sat back in the chair her legs spread. “But maybe we can come up with something we both might enjoy.” She patted the seat between her legs. “Come over here. No, get on your knees and crawl over,” I did as she said. “Now put your nose right here. I want you to sniff my panties just like you do at home.” The aroma was overpowering as she pulled my head in. “C’mon really dig your nose in there. Maybe if you dig in there far enough you’ll catch the scent of your little model. You already know exactly what my cunt smells like.” She proceeded to hump my face, using my nose like a dildo for the next hour, laughing as she used me to bring herself off.
When she finished, she told me to get out. As I was leaving I heard her say, “Be back at 9:00 tomorrow and you better be wearing my panties, panty boy.” I shut the door to gales of laughter.
The next morning brought me back to her door, wearing the panties underneath my shorts. She opened it and I walked past. “Strip.” I quickly took off my clothes as she walked up behind me. “No, not your little treasure, leave the sissy panties on.” My cock hardened as she came closer. I felt a tug on the waistband as she pulled it down under my balls, then she pulled up the sides causing them to creep up my asscrack uncomfortably, and then she tucked them in to keep them there.
“Listen, Ida.” A resounding crack followed by a burning pain came to my exposed cheeks. “I believe at this stage you may refer to me as Mistress.”
“But Ida…” At this point her tits were in my side, one hand grabbing hold of my hair, the other raining blows against my backside. “I’m sorry. Mistress.” The blows ended, but not her grip of my hair.
“At this point, you only have two choices,” her lips grazed my ear. “Either you meet your wife at the door wearing your little panties and prance around so she knows she has a little sissy boy to contend with,” she licked the side of my face, “or you do whatever the fuck I tell you to do from now on.” I was frozen the choices both not being good for me. She licked my entire face like a dog, “What will it be boy?” My mind knew exactly what to do, prance in front of my wife and beg forgiveness, but my dick was as hard as it ever was, my balls practically boiling, my lips opening and closing, “Tell me what to do, mistress.”
“Get down on all fours.” The panties rubbed uncomfortably as I responded to the command. She walked right in front of me and I noticed for the first time that she was wearing high heels and black stockings. “You know that Kevin is allergic to all forms of animals.” The stockings were connected by garters and a belt, across her crotch the infamous panties. “So, I have never really been allowed to have a pet.” She shucked her housecoat to the ground to reveal the she had on a corset with a push up bra, proudly displaying those magnificent orbs.
“I’ve always wanted a little doggie to play with.” Also, hanging from the belt were two items: a collar and a little whip and my dick lurched at both the possibilities. I had read about such things and, yes, even masturbated to them but I never thought anything like this would happen to me.
I did the first thing I could think of and bent down and began kissing her shoe. “Get the fuck off me.” She kicked with the shoe, “Up on your knees while we transform you.” She took the collar and strapped it around my neck and my knees buckled, so strong was the effect on me. “Have we found another secret fantasy?”
“Mistress I can’t explain. This is the most erotic moment of my life.”
“I didn’t tell you you could speak.” She looked down upon me. “You’re supposed to be a dog. Now you’ve gone and ruined it, just like you ruin everything.”
“No please.”
“Shut up,” she looked a little unnerved. “I know what will shut you up.” She quickly took down the panties and I had my first glimpse of her black forest. “Since this is what got you into this,” she balled the panties up and stuffed them in my mouth. My taste buds were immediately assaulted by the combination of sweat, urine and women odor and a trail of pre-cum seeped from my penis. Ida moved up pushing my face back with her pubes and my nose was assaulted at the same time. The secretions began melting in my mouth and I choked once or twice.
“Why that’s perfect,” she stepped away as if in thought. “You barked just like a puppy. I’ll be back in just a minute, don’t you dare move.” When she came back she was carrying something, but I wasn’t sure what it was. She squatted down in front of me her tits inches from my face.
“Here’s just the thing,” she tied something around the panties assuring they would stay in place. Then produced a pair of pantyhose, “These may really reek, but a puppy needs ears,” she placed the hose over my head centering the crotch at my nose. Then took the whip off her belt and I shivered with fear. I could just see her tits through the pantyhose and gawked as she took the whip handle and began licking it and sucking it.
“Remember that blow job,” she got up. “Oh well,” next I felt her weight sitting on my spine. “Now if you are a bad dog,” she gave me several playful spanks on my ass. “I’ll have to punish you. But you really can’t be a doggie without a tail.” She thrust the handle up my ass, my cries garbled in the folds of her filthy panties. She played with my ass for a while, grabbing it squeezing it, then got up and leaned down next to me whispering in my ear as she secured the leash.

Mist and haze. In the early summer, they were ever-present partners in southeast Louisiana, and in the streets of New Orleans. Darkness added an eerie quality that Dallas thought was unmatched anywhere; it was one of those things you just had to see, just had to experience. This was one of the reasons that he had suggested, off-handedly, that Carla meet him down here, instead of Boston, or Philadelphia, or New York, or any of a list of cities on the Eastern Seaboard, with their cookie-cutter blight and unattractive spots. Of course, New Orleans had them too in places, especially outside the French Quarter (also known as the Vieux Carre) but there was no place like the Big Easy; that was to be sure.
They walked slowly, over the dated sidewalks, feeling the heavy air around them, the understated fog encircling them. Eastward down Chartres Street they went, looking in each other’s eyes now and then (how easy it was to get lost in them), soaking up the scenes around them, commenting, making general conversation. After passing the western half of the Pontalba Apartments, the wrought iron fencing and landmark statue of Jackson Square appeared on their right. To the left, the St. Louis Cathedral stood, its gray and black spires lit in a striking, artificial white light. A street guitarist played a better-than-average blues riff on the sidewalk corner; Dallas flipped a dollar into his worn leather case.
New Orleans was one place that Dallas knew a good bit about, and he was making sure that Carla knew that he knew. Once in awhile he would get on a roll and he would try and show off a little in front of her intellectually. From the start of their interaction, on the website forum where they had begun to communicate innocently enough, he had always been impressed with her sophistication and intelligence. There was something different about her that he liked—the style with which she talked, the language she used, the way she carried herself in conversation, her jovial, sometimes teasing personality, her eclectic tastes. At times during some of their written exchanges, he found himself feeling a little inadequate. Afterwards, he would reflect on their discussion and realize that it wasn’t his inadequacy that was an issue. It was simply that he had not had an opportunity, in at least two decades, to meet someone of Carla’s depth—at least at this intimate a level—and he just wasn’t used to the exercise. Also, Carla loved history, and so, whenever the opportunity arose to share a little historical trivia that she may not know, he rarely let it pass.
“The Cabildo building served as the seat of the Spanish colonial government in the late 18th century. This is one of the things I find absolutely fascinating about the French Quarter. It may have been called French but there are so many influences down here. The city has a long history of different occupations. The mix of cultures is nothing short of remarkable…Carla?”
A pause.
“Carla?” Dallas repeated, a little more firmly.
“Hmm?”
Dallas smiled. “I think my lecture on the history of the French Quarter must be growing tired and dull.”
Carla returned the smile and answered, “No, no, it’s not that. I am kind of lost in all this. It’s incredible…”
“But…?” Dallas replied, his question open-ended.
“But, I’m just a little tired. And I have a lot on my mind.”
“I thought part of the reason we came down here was to get some things OFF our mind.”
“It was. And some things are off my mind, yes. But others…”
Dallas was not going to press for details. As had always been the case in their relationship, if she wanted to talk, she would. When a few seconds passed and she didn’t continue, he broke the silence. “Perhaps I should skip the remainder of the history lecture for tonight.”
“Maybe so. Please don’t be offended, Dallas. Right now I’d just kind of like to walk in silence, and take it all in…OK?”
“You know there’s never a problem with telling me what you want. It’s just you and me here…and no rules.”
“Yes, but it’s more fun making you figure it out. It’s good for you.”
Dallas turned towards her with his typical “yeah right” kind of look on his face, the right corner of his mouth in a smirk. Carla giggled. “I’m joking,” she said, “I know I can tell you anything. And thank you.”
“For gosh sakes, don’t thank me. I think you know me a little better than that by now.” He smiled, looking at her. She smiled back, and once again their eyes locked for a moment.
Dallas had posted a request for dialogue on the website forum months before; a simple invitation for anyone that may be interested to talk about the changes that life brings in love, in beliefs—and why. His life through his 30’s had been a long journey, much of it unpleasant. A thankless job and his reaction to it (using alcohol as a crutch to numb the pain of underachievement, which was a self-fulfilling prophecy in and of itself) almost killed him. He had truly stepped to the edge of the abyss, had looked in, had somehow avoided falling in, and had done it all on his own. He had made it through, and was stronger for it. Yet, he had arrived at 40 and found that, although things started to fall into place with a new job and a career that started to roll, some of his real trials were just beginning. Love had turned to bitterness and mistrust. When he had wanted help, as he stood at the edge of that figurative alcoholic gorge and very well could have fallen past the point of no return, there was none coming…even from those that he loved the most. That wasn’t the only problem. Sex had become a rare event in his life, and his marriage had been on the verge of qualifying as sexless for several years now. His above-average libido certainly did not help the situation. Perhaps it was elevated from lack of satisfaction. At any rate, trying to talk about it with his wife was futile. The ideal of being able to be intimate—to be able to truly talk with a soulmate in the absence of judgment, to really share what was important, and to work out differences—was nothing but a pipe dream. It had been this way for over a decade; it just hadn’t stung that bad until now, since he had spent most of those years drinking. Through his experiences, and even before, he had changed in fundamental ways that she had never, and would never, be able to accept. But, to keep the peace, he had just decided to keep quiet and take it. As time passed, he had become less and less able to rationalize it, and started to wonder: will it be this way forever? It became harder to deal with. And he realized that, surely, he wasn’t the only one who might feel this way. So he posted, and he waited.
Just as he was beginning to become certain that his post was going to fade into oblivion, along with hundreds of thousands that others make every day, Carla had answered. A lot of what he had been feeling was reflected in her words. He replied in turn. What followed was an almost daily exchange of ideas, of thoughts, of general chit-chat, and of flirting and teasing, that went on for weeks, and then months.
As luck would have it, they were fairly close geographically. They had met for coffee one day, and their rendezvous had turned into a three-hour discussion, effortless and natural. Dallas found Carla very attractive, with her green eyes and short brunette hair. He found himself staring at her several times and having to catch himself. Before he would break his gaze, on those occasions, he did notice was that Carla was staring back on those occasions, right back into his blue eyes, and not looking away.

As they were saying their goodbyes that day, they looked at each other one last time, and Dallas, caught totally off-guard by her gaze, and her voice, had thought about kissing her for a brief second. He stopped himself—it wasn’t the best of places. But in that moment, he felt an ever-so-subtle flutter that he was totally unprepared for, and one that he thought she may have shared. Time would tell.
Later, they had agreed to meet again, for a longer period, when the situation presented itself. It seemed like a faraway wish with their schedules, but not long after, an opportunity came. It was one that was much more than they had hoped for. By pure chance, they were able to get away from their substantial routine commitments for the same couple of days, and so, after Dallas’s long shot suggestion of the Big Easy, they had hopped a plane to Louis Armstrong Airport and gotten separate rooms at a fine French Quarter hotel that Dallas had stayed in on multiple occasions previously.
They had arrived early in the hot Louisiana afternoon, and had time to get settled and to scout out the area. They made the obligatory trips to the French Market and the Café du Monde for beignets, down the Riverwalk, into and out of the commercialism of Jax Brewery, walking all the while. Later, from Canal Street, a ride on the St. Charles streetcar, past the homes of the Garden District, Commander’s Palace, the home of Anne Rice, then back to the Quarter. The evening approached; a taxi back to the hotel to clean up a bit and change, then on to dinner at Antoine’s. Carla was able to read the exclusively French menu, without help. Although a little taken aback and impressed, the waiter still customarily suggested something for the evening. Dallas and Carla deferred to his suggestions, and were not disappointed.
On they had gone after dinner…past Preservation Hall and old-time Dixieland jazz…up to Bourbon Street, with music of all kinds in every corner, and trademark decadence. Dallas, embarrassingly but openly, felt led to point out the strip joint where he, in the midst of a trademark drinking binge, got bilked out of $600 years ago. It was easy to spot, with the cheesy wooden female legs swinging in and out of a narrow window. His revelation was a story that had not led itself to details, and probably never would. Inside, he was smiling; it would have been nice if he could have remembered half of what went on that night.
They stopped by Pat O’Brien’s, a “sensible” Hurricane for Carla, a Mint Julep for Dallas. Finishing those off had left them a little giddy; they had turned around, making a left off of Bourbon southward, and then turning east again at Chartres.
And now they were making their way back towards the far-east boundary of the Vieux Carre, in silence, with a long day behind them, and who-knew-what kind of night ahead.
As they walked, Dallas extended a gentlemanly arm to Carla. She took it, and they walked that way, in silence, down the five blocks on Chartres, past the residential flats, past the old Ursuline Convent, to the hotel. They arrived and entered, making their way over the black-and-white tiled lobby to the elevator. A brief look over to the normally friendly front desk clerk revealed his preoccupation with some administrative task, and they slipped by silently.
A push on the up button, and in seconds, the doors opened and they got in. Carla pushed the “3″ button, the doors closed, and the car began to rise with a slow, deliberate hitch.
Dallas thought about the moment when he had wanted to kiss Carla after their initial meeting. He wondered if this might be a little better time and place, and, no doubt being helped by the effects of the wine and the Mint Julep, decided it was. He turned her face to him, getting lost once again in those gorgeous green eyes, watching her return his gaze. He didn’t know what she had gotten quiet about earlier, but he wasn’t going to pass up this opportunity worrying about it.
He turned to her, moved in close, closed his eyes and pressed his lips gently against hers. She returned his kiss, softly, sweetly. Dallas’s lips parted and he traced her lips with his tongue for a brief second. Carla followed by parting hers and their tongues met, darting, flitting. She encircled his neck with her arms, he pulled her hips close against him. A sharp intake of breath from both of them, and Dallas slid his tongue in a little deeper. Carla followed him, their kisses becoming more and more passionate, with soft sighs and sounds, so much so that they almost missed the “DING” and the doors opening on the third floor where their rooms were.
Reluctantly, they stopped. They looked at each other, and then the eye contact broke.
“Sorry,” said Dallas. “I don’t know what came over me.”
“Yes you do,” said Carla, with a smile.
“Well…maybe so.”
“It’s OK, Dallas.”
“Really?”
“Yeah…but I do need time to think.”
“I understand.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.”
They walked down the hall to their rooms, adjacent to each other.
“I hope you understand, Dallas.”
“I do, I think.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.”
“OK. Let me sleep on this, and we’ll talk tomorrow. I promise.”
“OK.”
She took his chin in her fingers and raised it to her, so their eyes met. “Sure?”
“Sure.”
“OK. Good night, Dallas. Sweet dreams.”
“You too, Carla.”
She gave him a quick peck on the lips, took out the key, opened the door, and entered her room, the door closing behind her.
Dallas stood there a minute, looking down, deciding that she wasn’t really coming back tonight, and so he turned and went to his door, unlocked it, walked in, pressed it shut.
He leaned back against the door, bowed his head, and closed his eyes for a few minutes, wondering and confused. What was she feeling? Had she come to think this was all some awful idea and that she was sorry she’d even come down here? Had she decided that she just didn’t feel that attraction and so she was taking things back a few steps? Or was it something else?
He made his way to the queen bed of the ornately decorated room and sat down, and then laid down, for a long time, it seemed, wondering what was going through her head, not knowing for sure what was going through his. He did know one thing. He would never forgive himself if he had wrecked what they had developed. True, they were both adults, and they both had consented to making this trip, but it had ultimately been his suggestion. He wasn’t sure how he would deal with the next few days and weeks if she decided to end their conversations. He wished for a moment that they could go back to the way things were, if only they could. That was a very big “if.”
A knock came. He went to the peephole.
Carla stood in the hall.
Dallas cracked open the door, and he saw her standing there, with her brunette hair and green eyes, and a soft smile. She had donned a terrycloth robe, tied at the waist, which hung just to the top of her thighs, revealing her long, beautiful legs. Whether or not anything was on under that robe was left to the imagination.
“Surprise,” she said. “I’m done thinking.”
Dallas raised an eyebrow, keeping the door partially open. “You sure?”
“Well, truthfully, I was sure about the time I got out of the elevator.”
“And so you made me sit in here and sweat, huh?”
“Yep,” she grinned. “That is my way. And I think I gotcha.”
Indeed she had. She had gotten him again. Maddening, but he loved it. He opened the door, stepped to the side, and watched as Carla made her way past him into the room and sat down on the edge of the bed. She turned to him, patted the spread.
“Come,” she said, “sit down.” He walked over, did as she asked.
“Do you know why I came here with you?” she asked.
“So you could pick up a bag of gris-gris and put a spell on somebody?”
She playfully smacked his cheek.
“No, Dallas,” she continued, “I came here because I’ve always wanted to see New Orleans, and because I wanted to see it with you.”
“I kinda thought that might be the case.”
“Gosh, Dallas, I have to tell you every single thing, don’t I?” she grinned.
“Most things, I’d say. I told you I was slow.”
A pause.
Carla said, “Tonight is the night, you know.”
“I kinda thought that too.” At least he had hoped. The threat of them spending the night separately had totally woken him up to how much he did want her. God, how he wanted her. And now, he finally knew for sure that she wanted him too.
“And you know what I mean?”
“This time, I think I have it.” Dallas smiled.
“Nervous?”
“A little. You?”
“Maybe. Just a little,” Carla smiled back.
“We can be nervous together, I guess.”
“I do think we’re off to a good start,” she said, “if the elevator is any indication.” She moved her face next to his, her lips right next to his ear, whispering. “Ready to pick up where we left off?”
“I think so,” Dallas answered.
He turned to her and began to kiss her again. Starting with soft, sensitive kisses, he soon reached over, tilting her head back, sliding his tongue deep within her mouth, feeling her tongue flick back against his, and then they were dueling, over and over each other. Their breaths got heavier, and occasionally a moan or a sigh would escape, with sounds of kissing and wetness and passion raising their excitement.
She reached down with both hands and began to unbutton his shirt as they kissed, one button at a time, down to the belt, and then she pulled it free from his trousers. He helped as she pushed it over his shoulders by extending his arms downward, letting it drop to the floor beside the bed. Her hands went to the sides of his face, ran through his hair as they continued to devour each other’s mouths. Their sighs became more audible; Dallas broke his lips away from Carla’s and began to kiss her neck softly. She threw her head back, eyes closed, feeling his lips on her. He moved to her ear, back down to her neck, then back to her lips, kissing her deeply again. She pressed forward against his mouth in response, her tongue dancing and probing inside.
Dallas reached down and unknotted the tie of Carla’s robe. He glanced down, noticed she had nothing on under it. She was perfectly naked. He ran his fingers inside the robe over her stomach, then across her breasts, bare and lovely. He took his hand and cupped one of her breasts lightly, and heard her breathless, wordless, sigh of approval. He moved his lips again down the front of her neck, down her chest, and then to the cupped breast, taking the nipple softly into his mouth. Carla watched him for a bit, then closed her eyes, totally taking in the feeling of him sucking on her tenderly. He switched breasts for awhile, then went back to the first, tonguing and kissing. He reached his hands up over her shoulders, slid them down her arms, taking the robe with it. It dropped to the bed, the tail of it still under Carla.
Suddenly, he stopped kissing her breasts and deeply kissed her mouth, while dragging his fingernails down her back slowly. She gasped sharply as she felt the tingle of his fingers, down, and then up. Reaching around him, Carla took her nails and likewise ran them down Dallas’s back. His head tilted back as he moaned, and then he went back to madly kissing her breasts. He felt her hands on his belt, undoing it, then his trousers, heard the zipper, felt her hand on him, outside the boxers, rubbing his already hard cock. “Mmmmmm,” he sighed, feeling himself start to throb a little, and then he slid his own hand down, between her legs, and felt her already growing wetness against his fingers.
After a couple of minutes, Dallas got up, let his pants drop to the floor, and stepped out of them. Then, he was down on his knees before her, and he had pulled her to the edge of the bed. Running his tongue down her right leg, he teased her all the way down to the ankle, then, slowly, he licked the inside of her leg just above it. He felt Carla shudder a bit as she sat up on her elbows, watching him. Moving to the left leg, kissing and licking the similar spot. The right leg, a little higher, then to the left. Up to the knee, a quick lick behind it and then continuing, alternating, rising, over the insides of the thighs, one to the other, left and right. Dallas could feel Carla’s legs trying to move under him, her hips try to push toward his head, and so he slowed his pace up her thighs, driving her crazy. She threw her head back, started to moan again, to plead, and then he continued, to the upper thighs, over the tops of her legs, his tongue now pointed but not totally rigid.

Nervously, I stepped into my heels and checked myself one last time in the mirror.
I was carefully preparing myself for a night out with the boys. My husband Tim had invited his new client Richard over for a swim, one thing led to another, a f