embarrassment

I have been waiting for so long.



You walk into hotel room. I am waiting for you. On my knees.



You smile nervously and offer a wisecrack. I tell you to step out of your knickers where you stand, you obey, self consciously. Nerves so evident.



I tell you to hitch up your skirt to show me your pussy. More nervous wisecracks which im not buying.



“Just do it” I smile…. and you do.



With a flush creeping up your neck you reach down with both hands to expose your clit gently tapping it free as you spread yourself for me. Pulling the hood back to show me, face flushed and pussy wet now. Clit already fat and straining



“Come here”. You obey, holding yourself open, until you are inches from my mouth.



“Put it in my mouth” and you strain forward as I open my lips to suck and lick your clit like a miniature cock…. but I make you wait, feeling nothing but my hot breath until you beg,



‘oh PLEEASE!’



I relent and envelop the straining tip of your sex before I slide my tongue into your soaking pussy. My intakes of breath are muffled as twine your fingers into my hair, preventing me from teasing, enjoying the pain as you try to drive my face into your swollen lips, humping my mouth with your legs slightly bent, resplendent in your Choo heels.



I slide my hands between you legs as I stand. Lifting and spreading your knees wide as I do, you finally notice the fat dildo stuck to the edge of the table, pointing skywards and almost quivering with an energy of it’s own.



I carry you over, positioning your liquid cunt over the fat tip. Teasing you with fleeting contact, watching your eyes widen and mouth open as I let you slide onto its length.



There is a chair for each foot as you unconsciously begin to roll tour hips forwards and back. Girth roiling inside you as I slide to my knees again, offering my tongue and mouth for your engorged clit on every forward stroke until your rhythm accelerates and I suck and lick in earnest as you begin to come.



And its not a quiet orgasm either. Howling, you jerk up and off the fat rubber cock, knees out and presenting me again with your now obscenely gaping pussy as I put my face close and breathe you in. You recover to watch me licking your come off the dildo as I look at you.



And we are not nearly done. Turning you onto your knees you slide your convulsing pussy back on with a soft howl. Arse presented. I distance myself with difficulty and walk around to proffer you my cock. “Get it very wet” is my instruction. “When you have I am going to slide it into your rosy little arse, up to the root”… you slobber over my cock in desperation hips beginning to dance again as I return to your inviting bumhole. Tongue -fucking you in between suggestion and description of how you are about to be double fucked and breathing with barely contained fury as your buttmuscle streches over the slick head of my cock.



And then I slide in, one long slow rush and I open you completely. You rear up from the table, back arched as I unceremoniously fuck you hard. Reaching around to prise your nipples from your top and torment them, as all control abandoned you wail out loud seeking your reflection of the window pain. Skewered and writhing in shadowy silhouette. Heels still on.



I stop after your second orgasm. Help you down to lie on the bed as you look up at my dripping still-erect cock. As I lower it towards your mouth you watch fascinated as a dribble of cum escapes the tip, looping lazily towards your beautiful face.



Your mouth opens. Ready to slide me in. But I have other ideas and take your hands in mine wrapping the painted nails of one hand around my cock head, the other I put to my own arse as your fingers twist and torture my skin there, pinching and spreading as you jerk me off into your open mouth.



The head of my cock is now so sharply defined in arousal. A thousand different shades of cream, pink and red, dripping and vital. The closed loop of your thumb and forefinger is battering up against the crowning ridge of my cock and as I begin to come that loop closes tight, preventing release for just a split second before I gush onto your outstretched tongue, lips and chin.



We sleep, sated at least for a while. For exactly how long I have no idea, but I wake to the sound of the dildo’s suction cup coming away from the table.

There are moments, when ones desires need to be restricted, in order to become focused. Cleared of all irrelevance, in a fleeting state of purity, one can find pleasure of utmost proportions.



Codes: F/m, slow, reluctant, humiliation




Chapter One



Nurturing




She slowly undid another shirt button, feigning a playful indifference, as if it was to merely relieve her of pent up heat. But she knew of the effect her décolleté would have on the young man curled up next to her.



“And there will be times, when I will punish you.”



He looked at her with his clear brown eyes, and she could see in his expression that he was uncomfortable with what she just said. She met his inquiring look with her own matronly stare.



“Yes R. I’m going to discipline you. Pain is an essential part in our life. Why do you think we evolved the way we did? Through pain we are reminded of our weakness. But shouldn’t we also be encouraged by its potential to correct? I firmly believe punishment is a crucial element in the upbringing of any male. So I’m going to right you, when you are lost. Consider this as a form of maternal guidance.”



She waited, knowing this was hard for him to swallow. And when he was about to reply, she continued.



“I told you earlier, that I’ve always desired to be a mother myself when I was young. Maybe the Lord thought I wasn’t ready then.” She paused for a moment, overcome with emotions. “Anyway it didn’t happen. I never became pregnant. But over time I was able to accept, that this might be his plan for me to fulfill my maternal duties elsewhere. Through his guidance I became involved in community service and discovered my passion for working with needy youngsters. Helping hapless boys gave me a renewed purpose in life. I’m only doing his bidding. But you know that already, do you?”



R. nodded silently. He felt irritated by her speaking of him as merely a boy. It was belittling, making him feel immature, which of course he was, when he considered their difference in age. And he felt uncomfortable about her speaking of punishment.



“As it comes with age, you have a clearer view on things in life, consequently I know that punishment alone is not enough for boys, it has to be accompanied by love and affection. And you know how much I care about you.”



R. wanted to tell her, but she silenced his effort by placing a finger on his mouth. Her gesture again stirred varied emotions in him. The softness of her touch made him longing for more, but her words caused concern.



“It gives me great comfort, that you too wished for me to be your governess.” She paused briefly and added “… even though I would rather describe my custody as guiding counselor. I will be demanding at times. You will sometimes think that I ask too much of you. But you must never fear me, as my purpose is to support, and if you so choose, to be your companion. I will honor your trust with commitment and love, to provide you with guidelines until you are ready to embark on our own.”



She could clearly detect anxiety in his eyes and contrary to her words she enjoyed the obvious apprehension in his face.



“I know people talk about me, when they see me do my work with vigor. I sense the gossip behind my back; can trace the uneasiness in their expressions, when they try to influence my work with half-hearted advice. I have been called a lot of things in my life.” Again she waited, observing him, as if she was able to read his thoughts before continuing „How do people call me behind my back, R.?”



He could not answer. Part of him found it inappropriate to tell her what he heard – they called her a dominant, unyielding, sadistic bitch -, but the larger reason was his unwillingness to acknowledge, that there might be some truth in those observations, and the simple fact that she was now his guardian. R. averted his eyes. He could not meet her questioning glance and decided to remain silent.



She continued. “But you know R.; I am able to bear the burden when people misjudge me. Since these are only their own projections, their own anxieties, their own insecurities transferred on me, I’m willing to endure them. See, there is pain everywhere. I promise you, there will not be any vagueness in our relationship.”



R. didn’t like where this was going. There was no underlying eroticism anymore. He had thought their intimate cuddling in this small bedroom after the incident earlier, would lead to something. He didn’t really know what he was hoping for, but it sure felt nice. He had been enchanted by her. She radiated so much femininity. She had weakened his renewed resolve just as easily, as she had given him comfort in his trauma. But the lewd sexual tension her mature sensuality had stirred in him, troubled him the most. He was a still tense when he finally looked at her.



She had seen it all along, known it from the beginning. It’s all been so easy. He was so eager to please. So eager to make a good impression and yet so easily manipulated. She relished the tension. She kept looking into his eyes until he lowered them, torn in ambivalence, between his obvious desire for her and his natural shyness. She observed his glance slowly moving down her neck, and again trying to secretly peek at her bosom.



They had both stretched out comfortably on his bed. R. simply couldn’t stop glancing at her large breasts, while she relaxed by his side. She wore a delicately designed brassiere underneath her shirt, which still covered most of her voluptuous décolleté. John could almost anticipate the hidden treasures behind the decorative design and swallowed uncomfortably, once again overcome by the prickling feeling caused by her intimacy. Time seemed to have come to a stop. She didn’t say anything for a while. She smelled nice; mature, saturated womanly, a very different kind of smell, compared to the young girls R. has met. There was glowing warmth radiating from her body.



She savored his youthful arousal, his obvious interest in her caused by their sudden intimacy. Again she waited, watching him as he tried to shift his position to conceal his growing excitement underneath his pajama. She had been delighted earlier to discover the small wet spot in his nether region, so obviously caused by fluid leaking from his craving member. She preferred male who could not hide their emotions, that’s why they had be young, more likely to accept her rule.



All the while, during their one-sided conversation, she had – little by little – opened most of the buttons on her shirt. Her brassiere was now almost fully visible to his longing eyes. As she undid the last button, part of the shirt opened up, revealing an exquisitely embroidered bra. His eyes greedily took pleasure in her revelation, piercing the fine material for the mysteries beneath it. She always liked the effect her ample bosom had on men. She made a mocking sound. R.’s face immediately colored, as he had unsuccessfully tried to hide his voyeurism.



“You do realize, what you just did, was very rude. It is demeaning for a woman to be stared at in such an intrusive manner. You are indeed a naughty boy!”



“I’m sorry.” he mumbled ashamed by her directness.



“But it is unavoidable for us to share some intimacy, since you now live in my house. You are a good natured child. But there are certain adjustments to be made, bad manners to be corrected, odd habits to be broken…” she paused for effect “but as I’ve told you before, I will guide you and as long as you are willing to follow my advice, there is nothing to be feared. I know we both have to give up some of our privacy, which might not be easy at the beginning, but I am confident we will work it out.”



R. felt trapped between his blooming desire and his shyness, which he found incompatible with his urges, and hence hated himself for his inability to not better conceal them. She on the other hand enjoyed the moment and took pleasure in his obvious embarrassment.



Again he could not bring himself to look at her, even has he felt her judging gaze on him; once more time seemed to have stopped, as he tried not to openly peek at her breasts. How could he control his desire to look? Their closeness was nearly unbearable for him. She sensed his conflict and softly touched his hair, caressed it playfully and murmured a barely audible “Relax.” Her sudden touch was electrifying. He immediately felt goose bumps crawling up his neck and shivers running through his youthful body. His member twitched, again he had to shift, to hide and accommodate the growing tumescence in his nether region.



After some shared silence, she opened a small clip on her bra. It has been exclusively designed to resemble a nursing brassiere and yet to conceal this very function to the tempted male stare. Driven by its own weight her large white breast uncovered just in front of R.s face. She had big brownish areolas, which protruded her breasts and a swollen nipple bulged in the center. She could feel the warmth of R.s breath on her skin as he coyly exhaled, to hide his excitement. This caused her areola to be more textured than the surrounding lighter skin. Small wrinkles occurred close to her nipple, making it stand out even more prominent. Eventually, triggered by the sudden temptation, R. overcame his inhibitions and subconsciously took the now revealed treasure in his mouth.



“It’s always so easy to manipulate a man’s archaic instinct” she giggled inwardly, although she always had varied feelings about her large breasts. She found them to be a mixed blessing, annoying at times because of their size, but undeniable a practical benefit to lure men. But they weren’t easy to stimulate, especially when men would rudely grab them. She preferred to train males first, before allowing them intimacy. Of course she would never openly put it that way. She would only encourage and guide. Once you have established a subtle dominance on the male’s longings, it’s easy to restrict, deny and ultimately enforce enthusiastic adoration. From the perspective of a grown woman, who already knew her fleshy desires, she wouldn’t consider the breasts part of her favorite erogenous zones. Her hotspots on the contrary, assuming she was in the mood and were stimulated to accommodate her rather peculiar preferences on that subject, could reveal her volcanic sex drive and vulgar lasciviousness.



Consequently she used her ample breasts as mere tools to manipulate men, to expose the comforting bondage between the sexes through nurturing, yet to stir the underlying sexual hunger and desire for more, but then to conquer in the end. Only through dominance she was able to achieve true satisfaction. Wearing this nursing brassiere was part of her play. She knew that by not completely revealing her breast to the male, she kept even the act of revelation limited to her own bidding. It was to allude primarily nurturing. The clip brassiere’s chosen functionality emphasized for one thing on her maternal role of giving. But she also wanted the hierarchical dimension reinforced. The practical design should suggest certain indifference, as if it was to reduce something burdensome for her, like the mere milk secreting function of a mother nursing her infant. She could take them away just as quickly. Believing that the mind is the most erogenous zone, she always tried to engage her vis-à-vis. She didn’t want the male to simply undress her. It was the game of hide and seek, that gave her thrills.



She watched R. while he clumsily sucked her right breast. The anxiety in his face was now replaced by an expression of comfort and arousal. He had instinctively closed his eyes, while he nursed on her bosom. She caressed his head, and by her gentle touch he relaxed even more. Eventually she pushed her forefinger into R.’s mouth, functionally, as a mother would do to interrupt her hungry baby from feasting on her breast. It broke the spell she had on him. He opened his eyes and looked at her in a mixture of embarrassment and open desire. The plump nipple had dropped from his mouth. It was covered with clear liquid from his fondling.



“Are you feeling better now?”



He nodded meekly.



“You are a wicked child” she said in a sultry voice, deliberately reducing his male ego. “Do you think it’s appropriate for you, to fondle your caretaker’s breast?” she continued playfully.



His cheeks colored slightly as he tensed on her probing look, not knowing what to make of her last comment. R. was in a foggy state of arousal where reason was clouded out by pheromones. Overcome with cravings for more intimacy, he finally had been able to forget the day’s unpleasant event. He wanted this to last at least a little longer. But to his disappointment she sensually clipped away her breast, again hiding her womanly bosom from his longing eyes.



“Did I just make you feel good?”



He nodded, unwilling to engage his own voice, fearing it wouldn’t come out right. She continued her teasing.



“I can see it did. I want you to know, that a certain intimacy will be part of our relationship. But remember what I told your earlier, it has to be on my terms.”



Now she was going to elevate their connection to the next level. She sensed he was properly set up, already caught in her sensory web of control.



“I cannot have you feast on my bosom like a hungry baby. There is no milk to be drained, to relieve excess pressure in my milk ducts, which would certainly result from constant nursing, and would perhaps outdo the forceful sucking pressure you just applied on my breast.”



R. felt like a schoolboy, who was scolded by his teacher. “It must be the way she talks” he thought, trying to comprehend what she said. “Or was it her choice of words, her tone, or her attitude.” His ego was split between fear and revolt.



Once more she maternally caressed his hair, thus inducing another rush of sensual stimulus, preparing him for her next words, again clouding his male ego.



“You see R., from now on, before you are allowed to calm yourself on my breast, I want you to be in a more receiving position. And you will never again touch my breasts without my prior consent.” Her voice had not changed while she reprimanded him, but he immediately felt the threatening implication.



“I want you to look at me now,” she whispered comfortingly.



He was somehow relieved by her willingness to guide him; although embarrassed by the fact that he had sucked on her breast like a little child. Yet never in his life had he felt such enormous arousal and desire. It was almost maddening for him. R. looked at her and was suddenly mesmerized by her mature beauty. She had stunning facial features. The well-shaped eyebrows accentuated her intellectual appearance; the nose was straight and lively. Her initial red hair had darkened into a more brownish color, losing some of its vividness. She preferred to wear it in a plain style, parted from forehead to crown, and drawn smoothly back to a chignon at the nape of her strong graceful neck. She had released it from its usual confinement, and it was flowing freely, curling up slightly at the ends. But it was her gray eyes, which had an almost hypnotic effect on him. Suddenly it seemed natural to look at her.



“Good boy.”



Just when he felt his male conscience strengthen, she reminded him of his insecurity.



“You do respect me R., do you?”



“Yes of course ma’am,” again disliking the croaked way it had come out.



“I want you to express your respect.”



He looked at her puzzled, not knowing what she meant.



“As you have seen, my earlier words about love and caring had meaning, just as my resolve to correct. Since I have opened myself to you, I find it appropriate for you to do the same. Whenever there is going to be some emotional bonding between us, as a token of respect, you will assume a posture of gratitude.”



His eyes widened, while his cheeks colored considerably. R. felt insecure about his body. It was the combination of unanswered sexual curiosity due to his old-fashioned upbringing, and the sensed scrutiny in the eyes of a mature woman, that reinforced his feeling of physical inadequacy.



So turn on your back now.”



She waited for him to comply.



R. slowly turned on his back, still looking at her. She was surprised by his willingness to keep eye contact. It was in itself a form of subjection. He stretched out, but didn’t quite know what to make of his arms.



“You can grasp your thighs with your hands by your side” she instructed, again indicating guidance, and relieving him of what otherwise would have been a clumsy movement. His earlier excitement was once again replaced by tension, when he realized she was deliberately observing his body from head to toes. When she had indicated earlier, that it was time for him to get a good night’s rest, and would accompany him to his room, he had put on the pajama without any thoughts. But now he felt immature because of it. And then he realized, mortified, that his excitement would now be clearly open to her scrutiny. He was blushing with embarrassment, averting his eyes once more.



“Don’t avert your eyes. You are not finished yet.” She slid slightly closer to him, and was now towering him through their different postures. She saw his glowing checks, felt his constrained breathing, his forced awareness to look at her, and eased his nervousness again through her simple touch.



“How can a woman’s touch cause so much pleasure, why am I not able to control myself?” his inner self seemed to shout, trying to regain some control over his emotions.



She was toying with him, her own arousal gradually increasing. Dominance was her greatest aphrodisiac, and thus her scent changed, releasing that predatory aura she so much relished. His physical reaction to the ever so slight change in atmosphere was instantaneous. He literally smelled it. It was a new odor to his young senses, intimidating, damp, and yet strangely arousing, as her nearness again took control of his emotions.



“Now spread your legs gently, but keep your soles together.”



He complied slowly.



“Yes, that’s very good. Go on, I tell you when to stop. And R. please,” she had again reduced her voice to a whisper. “Do not avert your eyes. I want you to feel confident about yourself in this position.”



She observed him, as he opened his legs, while continuing to lovingly stroke his head. Only her soft touch made it possible for R. to comply. He hungered for affection.



“This will be your posture to express gratitude and readiness to receive attention. You are such an attractive, good mannered lad. I will honor your willingness to conduct yourself admirably. There are only a few minor flaws to correct and I will clarify them to you. Are you willing to learn?”



“Yes!” he replied eagerly. It felt good to be praised. He felt joy that she spoke approvingly of him.



“Again, I want you to be at ease. In the future, if you may wish me to help you calm yourself, you have to repeat what we just did, to recline on your back and keep your hands by your sides. You will always look directly in my eyes. Not averting or closing them. Then as a gesture of your willingness to conceive my affection, you will spread your legs v-shaped until your soles touch. Since we now have already shared considerable intimacy, it should only be natural for you to open your legs in a devote manner. You will only and I repeat only in this position cherish my breast.”



The prospect of receiving her breast again, exited him immensely and could easily be observed by the painful rigidity between his widened legs. Because of her instructions to lie back, his pajama luckily stretched above his groin, somewhat concealing the swollen maleness, preventing another situation of indignity, at least for the moment. However he found his posture to be unnatural, contradicting his usual instinct to curl up, and even though his arousal blocked out most of his rationality, demeaning.

The week following her second spanking was different than the previous 2 weeks, we now understood each other. After Susan had finished sucking my cock the previous Sunday evening, I had massaged her red ass. I had kissed the bruises that were visible on her hips from my hands grasping her during our fucking. She had wrapped her legs around me and cocked her pelvis upward as I climbed on top of her and slowly fucked her once again.



During the week she continued to help the library move. She went through her closet and removed all her pants as I had instructed her to. She could wear only skirts or dresses. She was not to wear any panties when in the house or out with me.



She asked me about the spankings, how often they would come. “As often as needed,” was the only reply I would give her.



We went to the mall together on Wednesday and visited one of the specialty lingerie shops. There I found a black lace dress that I had her try on. The dress was unlined, just black lace that left her almost completely exposed. I asked her to come out of the dressing room and twirl around so I could see it on her. She slowly came out to the main floor, searching with her eyes to make sure no one was close, then she twirled slowly three or four times. I could see everything through the lace. This was to be a fuck gown only. I bought it for her and told her she was to wear it on Saturday evening, to be in it at 7. She looked at me curiously but didn’t ask any questions.



Each night we had sex. She was subordinate to me, she would do as I told her, no matter what I told her to do. We had oral, vaginal, and anal sex that week.



On Friday I called her and told her I had to work late, she was to bathe and wait for me naked in the living room. When I finally got home, she was there on the couch, sitting naked. I told her immediately to suck me and she fell to her knees and sucked my cock dry.



Outside of our activities, I was also meeting with a friend, John. He was my best friend at the time, and he had heard what she had done to me and how I had reacted. John had helped me to form the plan I was now introducing into our lives. And John and his wife were to be participants that Saturday night as well.



Saturday finally arrived. We worked in the yard most of the day. I told Susan that I had to go out about 5 to get some things. I had showered and was ready for the evening before I left to meet John and his wife at a local restaurant/bar.



John and Cindy came in just a few minutes after I had arrived and joined me at the bar. John was dressed casually in slacks and a button up shirt, similar to myself. Cindy, on the other hand, was wearing a long dress, very silky and clingy. Her body was covered but also very much exposed. She wore nothing underneath. Anyone could see the curve of her tits, her nipples, even the lips of her pussy when the cloth came in contact with that part of her body.



“Very nice,” I commented as I greeted her.



I had not known until I had talked to John three weeks ago that John and Cindy had a Dom/sub relationship. I found out that John picked out every piece of clothing that Cindy wore, controlled where and when she went out, even controlled when she could orgasm. To prove this, he had invited me to his house and had told her to finger herself in front of me and not to cum until he gave permission. She had played with herself, begging to cum, for over an hour before John told her it was okay, then she had cum squirting her juice all over the floor.



John did not let anyone know about their secret lifestyle unless he was sure that they had similar relationships. He also told me that the two of them would attend swing parties at times, but that Cindy was not really into fucking other guys, although she did enjoy being with other girls. She was a true exhibitionist, and the idea for the pizza delivery had come directly from her. Cindy had also picked out the clothes that Susan had worn the previously Sunday and had recommended the store where we found the lace dress.



Now, we were going to go to my house and introduce Susan to some public sexual humiliation. Cindy wanted to see me spank her and then she could comfort Susan, or that was the plan. I was still not sure if Susan was that committed to me dominating her, but I was going to find out tonight.



After a couple of drinks, I sent a text to Susan asking if she was ready yet. She replied that she was. I sent another text telling her to have a mimosa and I would be home in just 20 minutes. I made no mention of Cindy and John, not wanting her to suddenly go cold and not be in the dress when we arrived.



During the ride to our house, John had Cindy raise her dress to her waist and play with herself as I drove. I got hard watching as this beautiful woman sat basically naked in the front seat next to me and plunged her fingers in and out of herself. John sat in the back seat and talked as if nothing was amiss. Before I knew it, we were pulling into my driveway.



I opened the door and allowed Cindy and John to enter first. When I came in Susan was standing in the middle of the room, all but naked in the lace dress, her eyes questioning what was going on and her embarrassment visible in her body.



“Baby, you remember John and Cindy?”



She was gasping in horror for the condition she was in, fighting with herself to not turn and run for another part of the house. “Um, yes, I do, but….”



She was facing us, her lace dress doing nothing to hide her body. We could see her already hard nipples sticking out through the lace, the curve of her tits as they sagged under their own weight. Her flat stomach was held tightly by the stretched black material. Her freshly shaved Mons was clearly visible as were the smooth lips of her hole standing out forward of her pelvis.



“Don’t worry Susan, this is all part of the evening.” I did my best to relax her before she did bolt from the room. “Hey, you have a mimosa, maybe John and Cindy want something to drink?”



Both our guests stated they would like drinks, and I asked for a Jack Daniels, and she walked to the bar, her ass virtually on full display through the lace, to fill the orders.



John took a seat and Cindy kneeled beside him as Susan mixed the drinks. John and I casually conversed about the football game that afternoon. I noticed that Cindy’s hand went into Johns lap and appeared to wrap around his cock.



“Hope this is okay,” Susan stated as she brought



John and Cindy their drinks. She then brought me mine and stood in front of me lost as far as what she was to do next.



“Here, kneel down and rest against my legs baby,” I offered.



She turned and got down on the floor, then leaned against me. Her body now faced John and Cindy, her nipples obviously hard with excitement.



“By the way Susan, Cindy was very interested in what happened to the pizza delivery man last Sunday,” I said to bring her into the conversation and to shock her as well.



Her head snapped around and she looked into my eyes fully embarrassed, her expression asking me to not do this.



“No, it’s okay, tell her.”



John saw the extreme discomfort and offered, “If you want Susan, Cindy can tell you a few stories of what she has done to tease guys first.”



Susan’s head was now going from John to me, she was confused and disoriented, not sure what was going on. She finally said “Well, I’m really not comfortable talking about it yet.”



So John had Cindy tell a story of her and the cable guy. During the story, Susan kept looking back at me with questioning eyes, not sure what was happening and very uncomfortable. She tried to cover her nipples and pussy with her hands and her drink, but the dress didn’t allow her to cover everything at once so her hands were in continual motion.



Cindy finished her story and looked at Susan, “Don’t worry about covering yourself, I’m really enjoying the view. Think I can have another drink?”



Susan got up and moved to take Cindy’s glass, then Cindy offered, “Here, let me help get another round, the guys look as if they need refills.” The two girls then went to the other end of the room and whispered conversation could be heard. I looked over at John, who was just staring at the two women smiling, and told him that I thought it was going well, she had not run away.



“She won’t, not now, Cindy is telling her to relax and enjoy the evening.”



When they returned, Susan told us she was ready to tell the story.



She was animated while telling her version, telling Cindy that she really was embarrassed, but when she realized the guy had a big hard cock all she wanted to do was make it even bigger. She told how she bent over further than was necessary and then bent again to return the purse to the chair instead of dropping it or carrying it with her. She then told us something that I didn’t know, that when she went to close the door, she had rubbed the back of her hand on the guys jeans and felt his hard cock through the material.



We all laughed at this little tidbit of information and the atmosphere was much relaxed from when we had first entered.



The evening progressed and after a few more drinks, Susan didn’t seem to realize how exposed she really was. She was moving around the room freely, fetching drinks and snacks. Her relaxed mood was encouraging to our plans for later in the evening.



After a few hours, I finally chimed into our planned conversation by telling John and Cindy that it had not been long since Susan had broken my trust in her. I could feel her against me suddenly stiffen as I revealed this tidbit of information.



Cindy broke in, “Well, if I broke Johns’ trust, I know what would happen to me.”



John then joined in, “Yup, you know your ass would be red, huh?”



“Probably redder than it has ever been. And more than likely, you’d have an audience, huh?” Cindy offered.



“Oh, no, please, no,” came from Susans’ lips almost immediately as she realized the setup.



She sat at my feet pleading with her eyes, looking into my face and shaking her head no. I smiled down at her, stroked her shoulder softly, and then turned to John.



“An audience, huh? Well, rubbing a guys hard cock with the back of your hand seems like that would qualify for a good spanking with an audience, doesn’t it?” I remarked in an intrigued manner.



I looked down into her eyes, her mouth saying “no, no, no, no” over and over as her eyes pleaded with me. I could see a tear well up in one eye as she realized the futility of her pleading.



Cindy remarked, “It is empowering to have an audience after the initial embarrassment, the knowledge that your discipline is making every man in the room hard.”



Susan looked toward her but stayed silent, her hand now in my lap, her fingers grasping my thigh. She turned back toward me and lowered her head into my thighs dejectedly.



“Stand up,” I sternly told her.



She began to move slowly, rising from her forlorn position, pushing herself up on the heels that adorned her feet and facing me.



“Pull the dress up above your hips.”



Her fingers began to gather the material at her hips, slowly pulling the mostly not there covering up her thin legs. Her eyes remained downcast as our audience got to see her lower body completely revealed. Her legs began to shake as the lace began to slide over her sumptuous ass, exposing the full mounds.



I moved to the ever-present armless chair that was close to Cindy and John, “Now come here and lay over my legs.”



She moved slowly toward me, holding the gathered material in her fingers, her freshly shaved lower abdomen on display as she approached us. She kneeled at my side, laid her upper body over my thighs before releasing the material and putting her hands on the floor. Her ass was again displayed before me, laid out like an offering.



“Spread your legs.”



She complied unwillingly, slowly spreading her legs until she was totally exposed.



Cindy now moved from beside John, standing and walking over to kneel at Susan’s feet, her hands going to her lower legs while she looked at the exposed womanhood. “It will be alright Susan, you will see.”



John then made a remark about her clean shaven lips and how her ass was just spankable, so big and white. We discussed her body and her position for 5 or 6 minutes as she lay exposed over my thighs. I let our guests in on the fact that I could see her getting wet just thinking about what was to come.



Cindy stroked Susan continuously as we spoke, her hands running over every inch of Susan’s body. I watched as she played with my wife’s sex, her boobs, her hips, her butt hole, her legs and feet. She continuously moved her hands knowing that Susan was about to be punished but trying to convey that she was not alone.



I finally asked her why she had to be spanked and she told me “To remind me that I can’t break your trust.”



I put my right hand on her cheeks and Cindy reached out to hold her tits. I sat there for a while, letting her think about what was coming for an extended period of time. When I was finally satisfied that she had waited enough, I quickly raised my hand and brought it down on her right cheek.



“I will never again do anything to break your trust.” She was sobbing as the words spilled from her lips.



I waited 20 seconds, then again, smacked her with my hand, this time on her left cheek, and heard her speak the words that she would not break my trust.



Cindy reached up and stroked her ass with one hand, running her fingers over the now red handprint on her right cheek. She was massaging her breasts and ass in between the smacks that I was delivering.



After just 12 spanks, 6 to each cheek, I told her that would be all she received tonight. Cindy continued to stroke her reddened ass, now allowing a finger to dip between Susan’s crack and run over her dripping pussy and tight sphincter. I watched mesmerized as those delicate fingers slipped between the reddened cheeks, then slipped between the flowering labia and into my wifes slit. She pressed three fingers in and curled them downward, reaching for the hidden g spot. Her hand began to move back and forth rapidly and Susan’s hips began to bounce on my legs as she reacted to the stimulation.



Cindy bent down, her tongue snaked from between her lips and she touched Susan’s butthole softly. A screech escaped Susan as her pussy exploded, juices squirting from her lips and coating Cindy’s hand and arm. She ejaculated three times in her orgasmic throes, each less than the previous, but each a visible amount.



Her body was undulating and squirming on my lap. Che was going and gahing throughout the ordeal.



Cindy sat up after the contractions subsided some and removed her hand. She cleaned the visible juice from her fingers and hand, telling John and me how good it tasted.



“Stand up.”



Susan stood slowly, her legs shaking visibly still, her hands grasping the lace and holding it in place on her hips. We could see her cunt, the labia still fully exposed, the juice of her orgasm coating her pelvis and thighs. She body was now covered in sweat, her hair a mess, the visible trail of tears on her face and cheeks.



“Baby, you’re beautiful,” Cindy told her.



John then spoke up, “Cindy, unless you want a good spanking here tonight, get up and take off that dress.”



Cindy stood directly in front of Susan and pulled her dress upward, her fine ass came into view rather quickly and the dress disappeared in a heap on the floor in just seconds. I had a perfect view of her naked backside just a foot in front of my face. She had her legs on either side of my thighs, her hot slit in view. She moved forward and the two women kissed passionately, their bodies rubbed against each other, their heights perfectly matched.



I watched as my wife, for the first time to my knowledge, kissed and touched another woman. She brought her hands around Cindy and grasped that fine ass tightly, pulling her cheeks apart and slipping a finger to the little rosebud. Both women were groaning into each other’s mouth, their bodies grinding together, searching out each other’s weak erogenous areas.



“Now this is a show,” offered John. “I told you



Cindy would take care of her after the spanking.”



I watched with my mouth open in astonishment as the two of them slipped to the floor. Cindy slid upward on my wife, a knee on either side of her body. She stopped when she was positioned over her chest and began to grind her pussy against Susan’s full chest. I saw Susan pull her legs toward herself, her feet spreading wide, her pussy gaping open. Susan’s hands went to Cindy’s crotch. She slipped her finger between the full labia and began to saw them back and forth as Cindy continued to grind herself on Susan’s tits.



Cindy sat up suddenly, reached up with her hands and pulled her hair high above her head, then she let go, her orgasm erupting from her body, her fluids cascading down onto Susan’s chest, her body shaking uncontrollably. Susan continued to stroke the hard clit between Cindy’s lips, the fingers coaxing four or five spasms from Cindy’s body, each one expelling juice from her cunt. Cindy’s hips gyrated back and forth on the fingers sawing away between her shaky legs, the muscles in her abdomen contracting involuntarily.



Cindy finally fell back against Susan’s legs, exhausted and out of breath. She grabbed Susan’s hands and held them from any further play between her legs. “Oh, God, that was great!” she exclaimed after a few seconds of gathering her breath. “Was that good hunny?”



John shook his head affirmatively before he motioned her to his lap.



Susan got to her knees and pulled the lace dress from her torso, throwing it to the corner of the room, she climbed onto my lap. She reached down between us and unzipped my pants, pulled my hard cock from the confines of my clothes and stuffed it in her slick hole. She immediately began to bounce up and down, fucking me mercilessly.



I looked over and saw John’s cock pistoning in and out of Cindy’s mouth. Susan continued to bounce on and off my hard cock. I was so excited that I lasted just a couple of minutes and blasted my cum into my wife in six fierce shots, setting her off on her second orgasm of the night.



She fell against my shoulder gasping for air, her hips grinding me still as she came down from her release. “Look,” she said pointing toward Cindy and John, still in the throes of a hot blowjob.



We watched for a few more minutes until John finally shot his load, pulling Cindy from him so that he could shoot his jism over her face. She closed her eyes and let him coat her lips and cheeks with the thick white semen. Cindy crawled on her knees to Susan, she lifted her face upward offering the thick jets of cum to my wife who willingly and greedily sucked up each and every last drop, then shared them in a deep kiss with Cindy.



We all 4 now laid there, exhausted, for a number of minutes. Susan finally rose from my lap, my cum ran like a river down her thighs as she stumbled toward the bar and asked if anyone else would like anything to drink.



Cindy joined her. They made us all drinks and returned to the floor, completely naked and exposed, and sat cross-legged next to each other. Reaching out and running her fingers around the slick excretions in Susan’s crotch,



Cindy asked, “So Susan, didn’t I tell you it would be empowering?”



Susan raised her mimosa and smiled in reply.

Chapter Two–Contract And Adventure



Rachel’s bra did fit. She put a couple of pair of her sport socks in each cup “to fill it out” she said. In the mirror, I looked like a guy with a striking pair of boobs. They wouldn’t stand up to close inspection, of course, but I felt very embarrassed wearing a filled out bra. Of course, Rachel took a couple of pictures of the guy with the hard dick and full bra.



Then she led me downstairs to the living room. She put a towel on her sofa and sat back with her legs spread while I knelt before her and ate her out while she played with her tits and nipples. As she got closer to climax, she grabbed the back of my head and pressed my face into her pussy, humping my nose and tongue while I tried to breathe while continuing to tongue fuck her. She had quite a climax and was a few minutes regaining her full senses.



She finished off the evening with a couple more pictures of me, with her juices all over my face and a hard, untouched cock all in plain view. Once she was happy with her pictures, I dressed in my casual shirt and slacks, socks and shoes. I had to carry my underwear. “None of that man stuff for you,” she declared. “Go commando until I get you some nice panties.” A couple of more pictures, and I was out the door while she scurried off to visit the story site I had told her about.



I went home with instructions to drive the speed limit and obey all traffic laws and undress completely once I got home. “But under no circumstances are you to cum outside of my presence without my express permission.” I, of course, agreed with a “Yes, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am.” Once home, I fell asleep and dreamed of horribly embarrassing, yet highly erotic situations in which I was shown off to all sorts of people.



Of course, I woke up with a raging hard on, but I remembered my instructions and willed it down so I could pee and get a shower and shave for the day ahead. The day ahead. What did Rachel have in store for me today? I’m already feeling randier than I can remember since I was a teenager. How long would THAT last? Not that I was complaining. I wondered if I had discovered the fountain of youth in my weird fantasies.



I didn’t have much to do that Saturday morning. When I left for work the day before, I knew I was meeting Rachel for dinner and … after work, and I expected to wake up in her bed this morning. Yes, we actually called our trysts “dinner and…” We weren’t a couple exactly. We were friends. Then one day we decided to sleep together. So we became friends with benefits. But we dated others; we slept with others. We had our own lives. But we were first and foremost friends.



Now we were…what, exactly? I didn’t know, but I was excited to find out how this was gonna work out. I was also, I admit, scared. Could I go as far as I wanted? Could I go as far as she might push me? Might she give up because it just wasn’t something she wanted to do? Or had I unleashed a tigress? What I saw last night in her resolve made me wonder what I had gotten myself into.



I started to think about what I wanted in a contract with Rachel. I honestly wanted the experiences I had told her about. One one level they terrified me; on another level they excited me like nothing has in a long time. I wanted it to last at least a month. Frankly, I figured that with our work schedules, we probably couldn’t do much other than on weekends. So, counting this one, we had four weekends. That meant a lot of work for Rachel to schedule my activities, which I fully expected her to be around for. She was both my security blanket–someone who would be there with me when I was scared or got into trouble–and my taskmaster (mistress?) who would insist I not wimp out but complete the embarrassing challenge ahead of me. I began thinking maybe we would need to spread this out over a couple of months to account for real like.



I was still thinking in this vein at ten o’clock when Rachel called. She wanted to know if I had anything I wanted to add to what I had said last night. I told her that I was worried about how little time we’d actually have, given our hectic schedules.



She cut me short. “Scheduling is not your concern. I’ve laid out a program that should fit both of our needs and schedules, unless you have something coming up you haven’t told me about.”



“No, ma’am,” I answered. “You have access to my schedule, and I have nothing coming up that I am aware of. Of course something might come up, but I’m not expecting anything.”



“Neither am I,” she answered. “If something changes, we’ll discuss it at that time. Now, if you have nothing else, I’ll email the contract I’ve drawn up. You will send me your address books, both work and social. Once you get here, we’ll discuss any changes that you feel need to be made. Do keep in mind that I read those stories you pointed me to. They were fascinating and gave me some wonderfully wicked ideas.”



My heart sank a little even as my cock rose. There were parts of those stories that I didn’t think I could do. The stories were about a woman who wanted to be used as a slut. She would suck and/or fuck anyone anytime for the man she had given herself to. He, in turn, would tell her to find strangers and blow them or fuck them in public or semi-public places. I’m willing to believe a woman can pull that off, but how many guys will let another guy blow them, even in private? And women who are strangers? Well, I’ll concede it’s remotely possible, occasionally, in exceptional circumstances. Routinely? No way. I’ll be lucky if I’m not arrested and with most guys I’m likely to get beaten up.



Still, I trusted Rachel. She knew all the things I knew. I didn’t think she wanted me to get arrested or beaten to a pulp. So I just said, “Yes, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am. I’ll send my address books right away.”



She hung up with a lilt in her voice as she said, “See you at noon, Richard.”



I went into my office and fired up my computer, which immediately told me I had mail. Among the usual pieces of this and that was Rachel’s with attachment. I resisted the urge to open it until after I had downloaded my address books to a text file and sent them to her in a separate email. Then I opened her email.



Hi Rick,



When you open the attachment, be sure to put



your full legal name in the blank at the top.



You will see my full legal name in the



appropriate spot after your name. In addition



to the other items you are supposed to bring,



print out two copies of this agreement



and bring them with you.



Rachel



I opened the attachment and saved it to a file on my computer. Then I read it.



“Personal Services Contract Between ___ and Rachel Irene Marie Simpson (Rachel)”



No, I hadn’t known her two middle names, and I must admit that I laughed when I saw what the initials spelled.



I added my own, rather more mundane, name: Richard Thomas Thornton III (Rick). Then I read on.



“Rick grants Rachel access to his body for any and all sexual services she may require of him with herself or with anyone else who she may designate. Rachel agrees to make any and all sexual activities with Rick as embarrassing and humiliating as possible consonant with keeping Rick safe from permanent bodily harm.



“Rachel further agrees to find ways to humiliate and/or embarrass Rick both privately and in public provided Rick is not exposed to legal arrest or imprisonment. Rick has requested this service of Rachel and she agrees to provide it. Rick further agrees to allow Rachel to photograph and/or video any of his activities for her exclusive use.



“Should Rick fail to attempt any task set for him to perform, he grants Rachel permission to reveal to any or all of Rick’s friends this contract and any pictures or videos she chooses to release. Should Rick complete all assigned tasks, Rachel agrees to give him all copies of this document and any pictures or videos of his activities or to destroy them in his presence.



“This agreement is in effect from today, 25 June until 25 July and can only be modified by mutual consent of the undersigned.”



Well, I thought, that’s pretty succinct…and pretty sweeping. I printed out the two copies. I could think of a lot of qualifiers and disclaimers I might want in this document, but I decided to go with it as written. Rachel knew that I wanted to live some experiences that were in those stories we had now shared. I knew I would be very uncomfortable, but that I had asked for it. So I had no kick coming. As I drove off to Rachel’s, I wondered briefly what lay at the end of this road. There was no telling, but I was sure it would be exciting.

Chapter Three–The Journey Begins Embarrassingly



Once the contract was printed out, I began getting ready for my day. I went to the closet in my office and got down my box of goodies. I didn’t have much in it: two bra/panty sets, one dark blue and a full wire C-cup support bra that I’d never had the guts to wear outside my home and one bright red relatively flat bra that I’d never had the guts to stuff like Rachel had with her white cotton bra I’d worn home last night. I had worn the red one once, but I just felt stupid in them without anyone to notice and maybe harass me about what I was wearing.



The rest of the box contained two butt plugs, a set of nipple clips with connecting chain, and a vibrating dildo. Neither of the plugs was particularly large: inch, inch and a half diameter at the largest. I got them to get a sense of what it felt like to walk around or sit with something stuffed in me. The dildo wasn’t large either. I got it with the thought that the vibrations on my prostate might produce interesting effects. Didn’t work out, though. It wasn’t strong enough to vibrate inside me. The nipple clips produced interesting effects, but they could be pulled off easily. I guess they were more like jewelry than anything else.



I took the whole box up to my bedroom; it was time to dress. I have three sleeveless tees; all are relatively snug, as Rachel knew since she’d seen me in them in the past. And one pair of bike shorts that were indeed snug. I put the shorts on then turned to my box. I decided to wear the blue bra. I expected it to produce noticeable bulges without any padding, but when I put the shirt on it sort of flattened the cups. I guess the wire supports are pretty flimsy without something to support. So I put Rachel’s socks back in the cups and slipped the tee back on. That worked as I knew she would want, but I shivered as I looked at myself in the mirror. I was definitely a man with C-cup breasts. I couldn’t help wondering why I hadn’t chosen B-cups or even A’s, but there was nothing for it.



There was nothing for any of it, not once I sign that contract, and given the way I was dressed as I picked up my box, there was nothing to do but follow through. Rachel was the provocateur I needed, but I knew this was my own doing.



Practical matters. I came home in the dark of night. Nobody saw me when I parked my car on the street. I don’t have a garage or carport. So I had to walk out to my car dressed as I was carrying my box, which wasn’t very big, in plain sight of anyone in the neighborhood who was looking. Okay, I told myself. Just act as if everything is normal.



And everything went fine. There were a few people doing their usual weekend yard work, but they were all engrossed in their own activities. I don’t know my neighbors very well, not much more than a wave or a nod. Still, I was glad no one seemed to be paying attention as I got into my car and put my box in the passenger seat. All normal, except that I’m sitting in my car wearing a stuffed bra, and I’m obviously a guy. The drive to Rachel’s was equally uneventful. Stopping at traffic lights, nobody noticed. Driving, nobody noticed. Pedestrians crossing at the crosswalk, nobody noticed. It was rather stunning to realize how little anyone pays attention to what’s in the cars on the road.



I pulled into Rachel’s driveway about five minutes to noon, feeling that I’d timed it right. As with my own neighborhood, there were a few people out doing yard work. It was a pleasant, sunny day, perfect for all sorts of outdoor activities. I knocked at the door and waited. And waited. And waited. I checked the time, 11:58. Then I realized she was making me wait until noon exactly. So I waited til noon and knocked again. This time the door opened promptly.



“Anxious, were you?” Rachel asked through the screen door.



“No, ma’am, not particularly,” I said opening the door.



She held her ground. “Oh? Well I have a task for you. Give me the box and your shirt. Then I want you to move your car out onto the street. I want to take my car shopping. Take your time. I’ll wait.”



I could feel myself blushing as I handed her the box. Then I took off my shirt and felt very exposed. Anybody looking was going to see me wearing a C-cup blue bra and nothing else above the waist. My cock stirred in my tight shorts.



“Yes, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am,” I said. I turned and headed back to the car. Nothing had changed on the street other than I was feeling very embarrassed walking back to my car. I backed it out of her drive and put it by the curb in front of her house, got out, and walked up her drive back to her front door. I didn’t race, but I didn’t look around, either. Her front yard and driveway are about twice as deep as my own front yard, but it felt like forever walking back to her front door. Rachel was standing there with her camera phone out videoing it all.



“Very good, Richard. You may follow me in, now.”



“Thank you, ma’am,” I answered, grateful to be out of whatever spotlight might have focused on me. Even if I couldn’t see anyone paying attention to me, I could feel a dozen eyes on me as I slipped into Rachel’s house.



My gratitude was short-lived as she led me into her study. The blinds were up, the curtains and windows open. I could see out, which meant to me that people could see in.



Rachel took a seat at her desk, on which my box sat. “Remove your shorts and shoes,” she said. I did so, and my cock sprang out of my tight-fitting shorts as I did so.



She held up the contract. “Are you ready to sign?”



“Yes, ma’am.”



She laid the contract on the corner of her desk along with a pen. I stepped forward and signed. Then she signed.



Then she picked up the camera and pointed it at me. “Read the contract to the camera and then say that this was all your idea, that you do this of your own free will, and that you insist that I send any compromising photos and videos to your employers, friends, and family if you fail to fulfill any tasks you are given by me or by anyone I designate with power over you for the next month.”



“Thank you, ma’am,” I said, taking the paper. As I began to read the finality of the words hit me. I was both excited and terrified at the same time. Rachel was being very stern, very matter of fact, and very, very determined. I felt my blush becoming permanent.



When I finished, Rachel stopped her camera and downloaded more video to her computer. Once that was started, she took the paper back from me and placed it in a travel folder on her desk. “Good, we’ll get that notarized while we’re out.”



“You mean a stranger is going to see this?” Stupid as it now sounds, I was incredulous. I should have known better.



“Rick, I have the address books loaded onto my email program. It won’t take me but a few minutes to start sending materials out. Are you wimping out now?”



“No, ma’am. I’m sorry, ma’am.”



“Not as sorry as you will be, I suspect. Now, let me lay down some basic ground rules.



“First, in the future, when you come to my house, you will park on the street as you did just now. You will get out of your car and remove anything you are wearing that covers your bra. You will also be wearing matching panties or thong, and you will remove any covering shorts or pants and any shoes or sandals at the car. Then you will walk slowly to my front door, knock, and patiently wait for someone to open it.”



I paused before replying. This was as real as could be. “Yes, ma’am. I wonder what the neighbors will say, or do. Might they call the police?”



“They might, but I don’t see where you are breaking any laws. You will be as decently dressed as most of the women lounging in their yards getting some sun, and you won’t be accosting anyone.” She stopped to smile. “Though some of them may accost you. If anyone talks to you or stops you on your way to the door, you will turn to them and engage them in conversation, if they wish.”



Of course, I thought. I am the male version of the slut who cannot say No to anyone. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am.”



Rachel smiled at my quick capitulation. “You want to be embarrassed, Rick. I’m just giving you what you want. I’m finding this quite enjoyable.



“Now to continue. Once you are inside, you will immediately remove your panties. Do not stop to look around at who might be present; just drop them by the door. Then, you will come find me and kneel before me. I may be anywhere in the house at that point; I won’t always be answering the door. You will not move quickly. You will be deliberate. You will not hide any part of your body. Hands at your side or clasped behind you. You will stop and display yourself to anyone who asks for a better, less hurried look, but you may not engage in any sexual activity with anyone before you present yourself to me.”



Rachel turned to the box. “Now let’s see what’s in here. Oooh, matching panties. Very good. And another slutty set, this in red. Very good. Of course, we will get you more. I can’t have my slut walking around in dirty underwear.”



She held up the two plugs and the dildo. “What have we here? Toys? Well, they’re woefully inadequate, but we’ll remedy that soon enough. I’m going to want you open to the possibilities, and these won’t open you much at all.” She tossed them back into the box. “Oh, and a little jewelry, I see. Nothing much, but I bet they could provide a bit of distraction. They look cheap, though.” She regarded the clips–they were cheap, I had to admit–thoughtfully, as if mulling the possibilities. “Perhaps,” she said, as if half to herself, “I’ll get his nipples pierced. That might be fun.” Then she looked at me. “Wouldn’t that be fun, Rick?”



“Thank you, ma’am. Whatever would please you, ma’am.” I didn’t think she’d actually do it, but I thought I’d better just go along.



She dropped the clips back in the box and stood up. “Yes, whatever pleases me and embarrasses you. Right, Rick?”



I nodded my head. I could feel myself blushing; I don’t think I’d stopped since I’d gotten here. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am.”



“Come with me,” she said, leaving her study. “I need to take the edge off.” I followed her through her house to her sun porch. It’s on the back of her home, taking up part of your small back yard. She has neighbors on three sides, and though they are seldom seen, they can easily see in if they wish.



Rachel hiked up her skirt and pulled off her panties and sat down.



“What are you doing?” I asked rather stupidly.



“I’m advertising,” she answered, “and you are kneeling down and giving me the pleasure of your tongue. Now get to work.”



“Yes, ma’am. Thank you ma’am.”



A casual look around showed no one looking, but I had no way of knowing what would happen while I was busy. She had her back to the wall and could look out. I was faced the opposite way as I knelt down and would see nothing but Rachel’s sex. I knelt down.



“Did you cum since you left last night?” she asked.



“No, ma’am.”



“Good. Don’t cum now. You may proceed.” She lay back, legs splayed, and closed her eyes. I put everything out of my mind but bringing Rachel to an orgasm.



Rachel is generally a vocal woman during sex. She says, and I agree, that a man appreciates applause for a job well done. But as I worked her inexorably to her climax, I could have wished for a more discreet reaction. I should have known better. She realized that any embarrassment she might feel at being discovered en flagrante would be quickly overwhelmed when her audience, if she had one, saw me in all my current glory.



She came with a great cry, pressing my face against her pussy and rubbing her juices over me. Once she’d caught her breath, she smiled down at me. “That was good, Rick. I do believe you are the best I’ve ever had at that. Now be a dear and get me a clean, damp washcloth and a hand towel. You know where they are.”



I went to the guest bathroom to do as she wished and was soon back between her legs, this time washing and drying her before putting her panties back on her and helping her to her feet and smoothing out her skirt. She looked like the demure, competent woman of fifty she always looked to the public. No one had apparently noticed our activities, though I can’t imagine how. Perhaps the immediate neighbors weren’t home. I didn’t know.



“Now, put those things in the laundry and go clean yourself up. Then meet me in my study.”



In the study, she had me put on the panties that matched my blue bra, my shorts, shoes, and shirt.



“Let’s go shopping, shall we?” she said, and she led me to her car in the garage.

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