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Some fun in a pre-Covid world

Ariel was pleased with her latest numbers. Her original Instagram account was now drawing more than 6,000 unique hits per month. She created videos about her normal life, but was clever and creative enough to make them interesting to lots of others. The comments from viewers were mostly positive, after you skipped all of the trashy misogynistic flamers. She had learned to love the attention she was getting with her clever videos. People really seemed to care about her and encouraged her to create more content. Most of those just wanted her to show more skin, but she had learned to really enjoy the compliments on her body, hair, face and attitude. She had come a long way from the shy girl in Akron to a more world-wise woman in Chicago. Now she loved the attention and she wanted more.

Her friend Tommy was an IT geek and had helped several models and aspiring actors to expand their social media presence. He had been encouraging her for months to develop a YouTube channel of her own, by using expanded versions of her Instagram videos. He had also been encouraging her to sleep with him, also with no results so far.

Ariel certainly needed a better way to earn a living. At age 22 she had originally gone to NY to model for a lingerie firm. Her slim body stood 5′ 10″ with natural red hair, blue eyes, a creamy skin, C cup breasts and a firm round ass. The modeling pay was inconsistent, but was an ongoing source of income. Like thousands of women before her, she tried acting and got some bit parts in theatre productions – but Broadway wasn’t ready for her style. She eventually found a niche in upscale strip clubs in Chicago and made decent tips there. She wasn’t whoring, she just liked to show off her body. She especially enjoyed clubs with dancing cages where she could safely flaunt her stuff and enjoy the adulation of the crowd. That’s where her last vestiges of modesty were discarded and her natural exhibitionism had flourished.

Ariel had been dating lots of guys ever since high school. She enjoyed their attention and never missed an opportunity to wiggle her ass or flash something at a passing man. She loved the control she had over them. She had slept with many, but hadn’t found real love — sort of like Joni Mitchell’s description: “Now it’s just another show, you leave ’em laughing when you go”.

She had joined Facebook to expand her social contacts and found it helpful, but annoying. She could broadcast everything she did to her friends, but in return, had to watch unlimited numbers of postings from people she hardly knew. After a while, she found the whole thing tedious and boring.

She got back into the game when Facebook bought Instagram and she discovered the fun in creating short videos about her favorite subject — herself. Instead of dancing for 50 people in a club, she could perform — virtually — for thousands. She created several exotic dance routines that emphasized her best assets: her face, her hair and her ass. Her followers count soared in a few months and she reveled in the positive comments she received from people all over the world.

Her exhibitionism had grown to a new level. She continued to push the envelope of Instagram’s standards with more flesh and more explicit talk until the moderators blocked one video and suggested she tone down the sex appeal. But she had created a brand for herself and wanted to expand it further. There was some income from Instagram Badges, but that wouldn’t even pay for groceries.

Tommy followed her progression and suggested that she should move on to YouTube.

“With your looks and screen presence you could start to monetize those videos. It’s nice to be popular on Instagram, but it’s even better to be rich.” He advised.

Moving to YouTube would require her to create a more long-form video format that had more content than just her cute ass and flirting remarks. Tommy promised to help her develop the content and to get it publicized. She could point her Instagram followers to her YouTube channel, but there had to be some new, more provocative content. She and Tommy discussed the limits of most online platforms when it came to sexually themed videos. You could talk about sex, but you couldn’t show it.

Tommy’s analysis of her followers’ profiles revealed that most were 18-30 years old, mostly male, but with significant female interest as well. Recurring comments asked questions about sex, love, relationships and sex. Ariel’s online persona had given the impression of a smart, worldly and open-minded woman who wasn’t shy about her sexuality. Her followers believed her to be an expert on all things sexual. And that was the key to her next endeavor.

Tommy and Ariel agreed there was plenty of raunchy porn-adjacent video on YouTube, but there was a also vast demand for educational videos on any subject: how to replace a water heater, how to tune-up a 2012 Hyundai, how to apply for a student loan, etc. Could they combine that how-to model with her sexual Adana Yabancı Escort themes and create a popular project?

It was Ariel who first verbalized the concept. “We should create how-to videos for sexual activities. You know, how to give a good blowjob, how to extend your orgasm, how to convince your partner to try anal, etc.”

“You know that won’t fly.” Tommy objected. “You can’t show explicit sex on YouTube. Their automated review process has plenty of algorithms to recognize it and block it.”

“I know dummy.” Ariel smirked. “But you can talk about sex and describe everything and make it seem real enough. Heck, you could even use medical anatomy diagrams to explain things. People would love it! It’s not pornography, it’s educational.”

They both agreed that they had a workable model for success on YouTube and started assembling the pieces. They set up a bare-bones TV studio in her spare bedroom with lighting and a crude backdrop. They hung large bath towels on the walls that weren’t seen on camera to reduce the echo in the room. Tommy already owned a hand-held HD camera with a zoom lens and other features and a laptop with significant video editing capabilities. He created some graphics with a logo, her name and titling ability.

The only thing missing was the sexually implicit, but outwardly clean, content. That’s where Ariel’s experience proved so valuable. From her interactions with her thousands of followers, she knew what questions they had. She intended to satisfy that demand by playing an experienced sex counselor onscreen to expand her brand beyond just being a hot body. A sex counselor with a wink in her eye and a giggle in her voice.

Her first YouTube video was basically an introduction of herself and her admirable goal of “helping everyone improve their ability to give and receive sexual pleasure”. She wore a conservative suit, but with a frilly blouse unbuttoned to reveal some cleavage. She wore enough makeup to emphasize her features, but not overdone like a hooker. She sat behind a table, but made sure her long legs were emphasized in the zoom-out shots. She wanted a backdrop showing naked people, but, knowing the YouTube standards, they chose DaVinci’s Vitruvian Man and Botticelli’s The Birth of Venus. Who could object to great art from the 15th century? She named the show: ‘Making It Better with Ariel’.

Ariel posted a few new videos on Instagram, each of them mentioning her new YouTube channel. Several thousand of her followers followed the link and saw her new image as the savvy and witty counselor. Over 2,000 immediately followed her on YouTube, but she knew she would need something bold to start some real buzz. It had to be a question that was sexually interesting without being overtly sexual.

Tommy suggested the idea of “What is an orgasm?” and Ariel agreed that was perfect. She started doing her online research and read several boring medical research papers and psychological theories about sexual climax. Definitions varied from “sexual trance and climax via rhythmic entrainment” through “le petit mort” (the little death). She figured out the most effective balance between scientific jargon and common, crude terms. Those terms could be enhanced with the right meaning when delivered with a subtle wink, sideways glance, smirking smile, knowing nod or whole body gesture. And Ariel was very good at all of them.

“The male orgasm seems simpler than the female.” She explained on camera. “Men can reach orgasm faster than most women (sad frown) and after ejaculation their organ quickly shrinks (slowly moves thumb and index finger together with disapproving downward gaze). Many people, male and female, vocalize their feelings very loudly (holds hands over ears and grimaces) which seems to increase their pleasure.”

The first orgasm video was a hit. People thought it was both informative and funny. She plugged it on her Instagram account and drove the numbers sky high — for her – 10,000 hits in the first three days. She had joined the YouTube Partner Program so she could earn income from ad sales and got her first real taste of online revenue.

In the following weeks they created more “lessons” based on masturbation, oral sex, anal sex, threesomes and BDSM. All of them included clear verbal descriptions of the acts, some artful diagrams or artistic images, but no explicit demonstrations of the real thing. It was full time work, but the revenue continued to rise, slowly. Ariel got better at writing and presenting the shows and was proud of her work.

Ariel and Tommy paid attention to all of the initial user comments from the first few YouTube videos. Beyond “Thank you”, “great video” and “you’re a slut” comments, there were lots of people asking for more explicit demonstrations of the subject matter. “Ariel, please make a video of YOU having a real orgasm! I would pay to see that.” Tommy and Ariel looked at each ankara vip escort other after reading that one.

Again, it was Tommy that saw the opportunity first. “Well, we can’t do anything like that on YouTube, but you could build your own website and post almost any content you, or your followers, wanted. We could make a companion video for each of your sex counselor videos where you actually demonstrate the concepts. You could make a lot more money by charging for subscriptions or video on demand. Would you consider becoming a porn star?”

Up to that point, Ariel’s exhibitionism had been limited to sexy outfits, seductive expressions and double meanings in her performances. She had often fantasized about illustrating her sex lessons with her own body, but had left it as fantasy. But now there could be a financial incentive to live out that fantasy and imagine how many views she could get by showing off her beautiful body and her acting talent.

It took Ariel only a few days to make the decision and start seriously planning for her own porn site. She had hesitated as she considered the impact on her family and friends, but they had already adapted to her online role. Surely they wouldn’t object to her just moving to the next step? There were thousands of naked people online pretending to enjoy sex acts. She would be just one more — for now.

Instead of ‘Making it Better with Ariel’ on YouTube, the new title would be ‘Doing it Better with Ariel’. They wanted a URL that indicated the evolution from YouTube so they used “ScrewTube”. Tommy negotiated with hosting vendors to create and host the website. He used their tools to build the site with a few open, alluring, sexy pages and then a paywall to provide access to the serious content that people would pay for.

Ariel wanted to be proud of her new uncensored videos, so they hired a professional videographer and used his studio for the shoots. Things got more complicated with lighting, sound, costumes and the choreography of the scenes. You can’t just record an orgasm. You must provide a setting for it. Is it two person sex or masturbation? If it’s planned for a 15 minute show, what will you be doing for the first 5? For the last 5? Just one orgasm or multiple?

Despite her latent exhibitionism, Ariel had a tough time adjusting to shots of her totally naked and masturbating. But after several takes she grew to accept the invasion of personal privacy when someone shoves a video camera between your legs. She was unable to achieve orgasm at first because the technicians and the atmosphere destroyed her concentration. Tommy eventually solved the problem by setting up a TV screen in front of Ariel and playing porn videos while she pleased herself. She was finally able to reach a true climax and let her acting skills take over. They had to adjust the audio feed down because her screams were overloading the system.

After three weeks and a significant investment in time and money, the website software was ready, but had no video content yet. To build interest, they decided to offer the orgasm video for free as a teaser for joining the site. But if people pay for a subscription, they expect lots of content, not just one video of heavy breathing and screaming. It took another four weeks to create 6 new videos based on the older YouTube educational videos. Ariel recruited willing male volunteers to shoot the sex scenes — and she personally and thoroughly auditioned each one. She let Tommy have the honor of being the lucky man in the original fellatio video.

Working with the male models was exciting and frustrating. They all had beautiful bodies with great muscle structure, handsome faces and significant male equipment. But they didn’t take direction well. Most were used to posing for still photos and tried to always emphasize their physical attributes instead of following Ariel’s directions. In all of their other modeling work they looked directly at the camera and gave sexy smiles. That doesn’t work in videos of people screwing. She had to yell at every one of them: “Don’t look in the fucking camera! Look at me.”

Despite the frustrations as a director, she really enjoyed the pleasures of being the actress. She could direct them to do anything she wanted. Since she needed to demonstrate a successful climax each time, she directed the guys to do everything she liked. Sometimes it required 7 or 8 takes before she was satisfied – with the video. She particularly enjoyed the threesome video. She took it from both ends at the same time and actually forgot about the cameras and people and was completely lost in a fantastic orgasm. Despite her loss of control, that one turned out fine and was one of the most popular episodes.

Ariel was usually the star, director, choreographer and script writer – although the scripts were pretty bare bones. During the video about cunnilingus, she found it particularly hard to simultaneously describe the actions to the audience, direct the other adıyaman evi olan escort actor on where and when to use his tongue, move her body so the camera had a clear view of her vulva and then act out the pleasures of being eaten out and enjoying a screaming orgasm. The human mind can only focus on a few things at one time — and sexual pleasure always gets the maximum focus.

After weeks of strenuous and satisfying work on the videos, Ariel created a video message for her followers on Instagram and YouTube.

“Hi folks. Thanks for all of your support and feedback on my videos. I’m glad that I have pleased you. And now I’m going to please you even more. Many of you have asked me to enhance the sexual lessons videos with actual demonstrations instead of just verbal descriptions. We can’t do that on YouTube, of course, so I have created my own website called ScrewTube. I have also created a series of new videos starring — me! In each one I demonstrate the sights, sounds and actions of the subject activity, using my own body and the bodies of a few partners. Now you can watch the descriptive lessons on YouTube, and then go to ScrewTube for visual demonstrations, using live bodies.”

“My first video is a demonstration of the orgasm. I recorded it while masturbating in my bed. You can watch that one for free. But there are many others available to subscribers to the site. Terms for buying a subscription or viewing individual VOD videos are on the site. That’s all for now. I hope you’ll see me soon!”

By sending that message to her thousands of followers on Instagram and YouTube, she had lit the fuse for the website explosion. The first day there were over 23,000 views, and 8,000 of them bought monthly subscriptions. There were over 10,000 purchases of individual videos. Then it went viral. Her existing followers loved the videos and passed along the link to dozens of their friends. Those friends promoted it to more friends and Ariel became famous — and rich.

For the next few months she continued to create new content for her site and for YouTube. She had over 90,000 subscriptions at $50 per year – you do the math. The individual VOD episodes brought in another $1.5 million. She actually had to hire an accountant to manage the books and do her taxes. Income tax on 6 million is, well, frightening. A nice problem to have. She also hired a full-time cameraman, a lighting director and an audio director. They were all now being managed by an Operations Manager, Jill, and her secretary.

The male actors quickly realized what they had and demanded outrageous fees to perform. At first, she paid them. She had to keep new content coming to satisfy her half million followers. But eventually, their demands became ridiculous and Ariel started looking for alternatives. Again, it was Tommy who first conceived the solution.

“You know,” he said. “You have many thousands of male followers out there who love you and fantasize about screwing you every time they watch one of the videos. We could use them as an alternative to the professional actors by creating an unusual contest — and generate fantastic buzz. Consider this. You announce that any of your followers — male and female I imagine — can submit a photo of themselves. You will then review all of the photos and pick the people you would like and bring them here and record sex videos with you. Every guy out there would instantly stop wanking and submit a picture.”

Ariel saw the potential at once. Done right, it could generate a tsunami of buzz — and followers. She started to enhance Tommy’s initial description.

“Great idea,” She exclaimed. “And we can amp up the buzz even more by requiring the photos show naked bodies. Each guy has to submit two photos, one front and one back showing their whole body, top to toe. They can blur the face to protect their identity if they wish. Then we post all of those thousands of photos in a special section of the website that any paid subscriber can browse. The ultimate meat rack!”

“But, how am I going to evaluate so many photos? It would take years and how could I decide which ones were best?” Ariel wondered.

Tommy once again jumped to the next step. “Even better! YOU don’t pick the winners, the followers do. We create a voting system. The thousands of people who enjoy leering at male bodies would have a ball paging through the pictures. They can vote for up to 5 candidates they like best. We let the contest run for a few weeks and keep track of the voting. Hell, we could release weekly results and make it a horse race. It’s like Eurovision or ‘Americas Got Talent’, except their only talent is looking good naked.”

Ariel’s eyes were focused on a distant point. The potential was huge. The contest itself would become part of the story. There would be lots of media coverage and people decrying it as sinful and disrespectful to men. The audience would be millions! And then she realized the best part: the winners of the contest would come to Chicago and she would have sex with them on livestream! She would be seen as the ultimate prize for men. Since the internet is worldwide, people all over the world would recognize her. She would be the star of a new medium: livestreamed sex. One of the most famous and desired women on earth. She collapsed in her chair with her mouth hanging open.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

It seemed like light years since I left loneliness behind. My pussy was electric and my options were endless. Ed was out of town and I had plenty of naughty thoughts. We were domesticated sex freaks and most marriages weren’t like that even if, in the dark recesses of their minds, they wanted to be.

This was the first day Ed was out of town since we’d begun our hotwife hobby. I thought it would be fun to have a wingwoman but being married with friends who were largely couples cut down the possibilities so I had to fly solo.

Even so, I was pumped up for Friday’s adventures. I looked in the mirror and my version of man bait and liked what I had constructed. All monochrome; white button down top, ridiculously short black skirt, black choker, black lace bra showing through the top, black lace thigh highs and black heels. I tossed my long hair to one side and over my shoulder.

I looked like the alluring bad girl on an old ’50’s film noir movie.

I unbuttoned the top so the bra got center stage, then took a selfie and sent it to Ed. There was a quick text back: ‘Oooo, babe, you’ve got some real Bettie Page action there. Going grocery shopping?’

I texted, ‘You’re partly right, I am going shopping’

‘Naughty, naughty, girl.’

‘Just the way you like me. Hey, who’s Bettie Page?’

***

I went old school, a tiki bar downtown, the places with a paper umbrella in every drink. I had to park in a city lot about two blocks from my destination. It was just a bit on the sleazy side and I probably shouldn’t have gone without Ed but I was feeling just naughty enough and curious enough to take it on myself.

As I walked down the sidewalk to the lounge a car pulled up next to me, lowered the window and an older guy leaned out and yelled, “How much?”

I smiled, “Not for sale,” and kept walking.

“Well it oughta be,” and he drove off.

Apparently I was dressed perfectly for a sleazy tiki bar.

The interior was a lot larger than it looked from the outside. There was a small combo, a dance floor, a very long bar and ample dining. I asked the hostess if there was room at the bar and she said no but had a two top near the dance floor.

A quick survey and you had plenty of guys at the bar, 50 to 60 range, and my entrance was certainly not lost on them. Most of the tables had older couples, the men with dreams of bedding a twenty something like me, while their wives probably wanted to chase me out with sticks.

What I didn’t see coming was the car guy who propositioned me. He plopped down next to me.

“C’mon now, let’s stop fooling around, how much?”

“Will you get lost? I’m not a whore!”

He jumped up from the table, “Well you oughta be.” And he stormed off.

As soon as he left a guy at the bar who’d been studying my entrance came over. “May I?”

He had manors, good looks, salt and pepper hair with a goatee, a goofy Hawaiian shirt, well built and somewhere in his late fifties.

“Be my guest,” I said not sounding especially welcoming, “Anything’s better than that last asshole.”

“Oh, you mean Larry?”

“You know him?”

“Not very well but he hangs around often looking to spend a sliver of his fortune on a prostitute for the night. He seemed to take a keen interest in you. I’m Tony by the way.”

“I’m Mara. You mean he has a lot of money? That guy? “

“Yup. I wouldn’t have believed it myself but one night at the bar we were talking and he invited me back to his house for drinks and women. Before we left the bar he made a couple of calls and bought two expensive escorts who were waiting for us when we got to his house, well, it was a mansion. I couldn’t believe it.”

“What did you do?”

“I don’t mean to be crude but, in a nutshell, I drank his booze, fucked his girls and went home.”

“That’s crazy.”

“Crazy but true. Are you suddenly reconsidering his offer? Could be a big payday.”

“God no! I’m not a whore. Is that what you think?”

“No, not necessarily, but you’re dressed to kill and you’re here alone. I’m fairly certain that wasn’t by accident. There’s not a guy in here who doesn’t want the company of a sexy, gorgeous girl like you.”

“Does that include you?”

“That definitely includes me and right now I can feel the sting of a hundred arrows in the back because I’m sitting here and they’re not.”

“You seem to have quite the analytical mind.”

He laughed, “I better have, I’m a psychologist.”

“Ooo, I think that’s sexy,” I said intimately, “Go ahead then and analyze me.”

“Ahhh, this may be a trap but based on five minutes of knowing you I’d say randomly; out looking for adventure, great legs, exhibitionist, somewhat fearless, oversexed…”

I was giggling like mad as he got precariously close to the truth.

“…married but spouse out of town, did I mention oversexed?, too pretty to be in this place,

actually enjoyed being mistaken for a streetwalker. There, how’s that?”

“Pretty good, doc.”

“One more thing…you’re likely before long to come to my apartment kırşehir escort a block from here and have a very good time.”

“Um, not sure about the last one…”

“You don’t want to see my stamp collection?” Tony motioned over to the server, “Jean, dirty martini, please and a Cosmopolitan for the lady?”

“How did you know what to order for me?” I asked with amazement.

“I took a shot. You looked like a Cosmo girl to me. Care to dance?”

“Yes,” I found myself saying readily even though I was a marginal dancer. He was smart, engaging and twice my age but age didn’t matter to me at the moment. He made it clear he wanted to take me home and my pussy was coming around to the idea.

As we got up to hit the dance floor, I got a text from Ed, ‘Have a good time but be careful. Love you.’

Tony was a very good dancer and made up for my clumsiness by leading me like a pro. By the end of the first song he even had me convinced I knew what I was doing.

He was so damn charming I was falling under his spell. But he was older. What if he couldn’t get it up and I had to awkwardly excuse myself from his apartment? What if he fell in love with me and wanted to date? But, no, he knows I’m married so that wouldn’t happen. This and many more nutty caution signs were annoyingly running through my head but then it all stopped…

…as he seduced me on the dance floor. The way he held me close made me feel like he was making love to me already. His hand rested on the small of my back, guiding me like I was floating on air. At the end of the dance we came close, face to face and I wanted him to kiss me and I’m pretty sure he wanted to but held back.

When we got back to the table the Cosmo made me ask him why he didn’t kiss me? He was caught off guard.

“I really wanted to but didn’t want to come off too heavy. We just met and you’re married.”

“Let me put you at ease then, Tony. I really like you. I think I want to go back to your apartment, now kiss me.

He kissed me so romantically I got weak in the knees. But his following inquiry brought me back to reality.

“Tell me about your husband. Is this some sort of arrangement? I don’t get it.”

I wasn’t surprised. He was older and more concerned with protocol whereas a younger guy wouldn’t care if I was married or not. He’d only be thinking of getting in my pants.

“Yes, we have an arrangement. I’m what’s referred to as a hotwife. Mostly he shares me with other men and enjoys watching or, as in this case, he knows I’m out sharing myself and I tell him about it in detail later. He’s out of town right now.”

“I understand. I just didn’t want to get beaten in the head with a shovel because I was hitting on you. Actually, I’ve had a couple of patients in my practice who identified as hotwives and it always fascinates me.”

“Did you ever take advantage of them?”

“No, but I’d be lying if I said it never crossed my mind.”

Finishing my drink much too quickly I said, “So, Tony, I got very wet out on the dance floor and need you to fuck me immediately or sooner.”

“Wow, that’s the kind of directness I can appreciate. I’ll pay the check at the bar.”

As we stood up and he walked away there again was Larry.

“So hot shit, I’ll ask again, how much?” He pointed at the bar. “How much are you charging him? Whatever he’s paying I’ll double it!”

“Not everything’s for sale.” I reminded him.

“Well, it oughta…”

Tony walked up behind him, “Larry…no.” And Larry walked away without a word although he stared at my ass all the way out the door.

Tony held my hand on the way to his apartment, stopping once to kiss me. “This may be the luckiest day of my life.”

Right then I got a text from Ed and stopped to read it, ‘Hope you’re spreading your legs and having fun, my love. I’m back in my room later if you want to share details. LOL’

I showed Tony the text. His eyebrows raised and he said, “Is this like porn for him?”

“Ya, kinda. He just thinks I’m beautiful taking cock. He gets off. However, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s fucking his secretary as we speak.”

“Well it’s kinky as hell but you can tell him I greatly appreciate his generosity.”

We got on the elevator and went to the top floor which opened right into his unit. His apartment was fabulous and that I did not expect. Not from some guy in a cheesy Hawaiian shirt.

“Make yourself at home and I’ll get us drinks from my bar.”

Tony brought the drink tray to the coffee table and turned to kiss me. Our tongues met and I began to get wet again. For the longest time we were lost in the kiss. He eventually started to unbutton my blouse.

“Dancing is what got me here,” I said, “how about I dance for you?”

“I’d love it. Wait…” He got up and put on some mood music.

I did the sexiest, slinkiest striptease I could possibly do. I featured my tits and, holding them out to him, applied a tongue to my erect nipples. By the time I got to my G-string he had his pants off and the malatya escort Hawaiian shirt was history. I stood with my back to him, gazing back over my shoulder with the ‘fuck me’ look and slipped the lingerie off with my forefingers. I slowly ran both hands over my ass and presented it to him.

He took hold of my hips, spread my ass cheeks and, to my surprise and delight, rimed my asshole. A little shiver ran down my legs.

“Mmmmm, Tony,” I moaned, “fuck that feels good.”

I noticed he hadn’t removed his briefs and with the low lighting I couldn’t tell the size of weapon he’d be using on me. I reached back behind my legs and felt for his bulge. It was partially erect, thick and I jerked it.

Still sitting on the couch, he turned me around and sucked my tits. “What can I do more to please you, my beauty?” he asked looking up, shoving two fingers up my now blazingly hot cunt.

“Suck me to fuck me I always say.”

He doubled down on sucking my ultra sensitive tits and then jolted my senses as he pinched my nipples.

“Oh, Tony, oh fuck, I’m so ready for you, baby.”

He stood up and in one motion shoved me to my knees, dropped his briefs and presented his cock. It wasn’t especially long, an average six inches or so, but so big around. I barely got my mouth around it as it stiffened.

“My tight little pussy’s gonna scream when you fuck me with this thing.”

He helped me to my feet and dragged me to the bar and sat me on the edge of the stool. In one motion he kissed me and filled me with his cock. I leaned back on the bar, my elbows on the counter, as he gave my cunt a workout. “Fuck me, baby, I love it.”

The stool wobbled every time he shoved his cock in me, his heels leaving the floor. He paused occasionally to kiss me and then right back to it. Bang, bang, bang. He turned me around for a doggy drill and I manipulated my clit all the way to orgasm. “I’m cummmming, Tony! Fuck me harder! Uhnnnnnn! Love you in me!!!”

He reached up for my tits and like a switch going on my juices covered his cock. At the blistering pace he was fucking me at I didn’t see him holding on much longer. A couple more minutes and he’d cum on my ass.

“Well, well, who do we have here?” came the startling sound of someone across the room. It was the voice of a woman. Right away I thought I’d unwittingly stepped in the middle of something unpleasant.

“What are you doing here?” asked an aggravated Tony. “We have an agreement…”

“I figured you’d be at the bar and I could get more of my things.” Looking me over she said, “Oh my, you did win the lottery with this one.”

I went about gathering my clothes and dressing. “You don’t have to go, Mara. Gloria was just leaving.”

“So he didn’t tell you about me? We were married a long time until I got honest with myself and admitted I liked girls better than I liked him. From what I can see I don’t want you to go either. Wow. I could eat you for breakfast, lunch and dinner.”

“Gloria! Please leave!”

“Mara, if I applied my tongue to that rockin’ pussy you’d leave here even happier than you already seem to be.”

“Gloria…” he mildly protested.

I stopped dressing to listen to her offer.

Now, dear reader, I know some of you are thinking get the rest of your clothes and out of the line of fire between these two. On the other hand, many of you already know I lack an off switch. Well…

She was a very attractive woman and the thought of her going down on me made me damp. And I was an explorer wasn’t I?

“Well, Gloria,” I said, “Tony and I have some unfinished business but I’m also a bit excited by your interest. How about you both can have me, that is if you can learn to play together.”

They looked at each other and back at me and jokingly shook hands. They both got up and took the clothes out of my hands and removed whatever I’d put back on.

“The bed,” said Tony and I followed. Gloria stripped down as we headed for their sexual sandbox. To be honest, except in my imagination, I’d never had sex with a woman so I laid on my back and let them have their way,

Like wolves, they devoured my body. Tony resumed fucking me like a crazy man and Gloria, after kissing me, straddled my face. “Make me cum, honey, and I’ll return the favor.” I ate her pussy and she moaned her approval, “Yes, yes, yes!” I may have been inexperienced but I knew what my pussy liked and applied it to Gloria.

After ten minutes she was soak and wet and ready to cover my face with her cum. She got louder and louder as my tongue found her hotspots. “Fuuuuuuucccckkkkkk,” she screamed, her sloppy wetness dripping down my cheeks. “Oh fuck, yes, you little vixen.”

Gloria dismounted with a kiss and as Tony fucked me Gloria went about teasing my body, kissing me more, licking my tits and sucking my fingers and toes. She ran her tongue down my chest to my clit as Tony kept at it. They were overwhelming my system and I came again.

“Turn doggy, I wanna cum.” I got on all fours and we were once again niğde escort where we were when Gloria came on the scene. Tony was driving me hard. Gloria went to the nightstand drawer and pulled out a butt plug and unceremoniously jammed it in my ass. I squealed.

“Like that, my beautiful bitch?”

“Oh god!!!!!!!” I orgasmed again.

Without warning, Tony blew his cum on my buttocks, “Uhnnn, uhnnn, ummmmmmmm…”

As he stepped back satisfied, Gloria removed the plug and put me on my back once again, cum still stuck to my rear. She crawled up my body leaving a trail of kisses and touches. Then she slid back down to my well used pussy and told me to, “just relax and let it cum, pretty one.”

Tony sat back and watched Gloria furiously eat me out. OMG! She released an orgasmic tidal wave in me. “Oh…oh shit, oh fuck, oh fuck, ummmmmm!!!” She didn’t stop for a long time, her tongue was everywhere while her right hand reached back to massage her own clit.

When she came she blissfully looked up, our eyes met and she climbed back up and we wrapped our legs between each other, our pussy’s touching.

As she circled my nipples with her forefinger, “Fuck, I’m cumming again,” I said urgently.

She humped me harder and again the ambrosia swept across my naked body and I screamed. After that we stopped out of sheer exhaustion. We were sweaty, breathing hard and she was stroking my hair.

“I think we all need a drink,” I said.

“I’ll get right on it,” said Tony as he went out to the bar. “French Gimlet, honey?”

“Yes.”

“He called you, honey.” I noticed.

“Probably reflex,” she laughed. “I know he still loves me and I love him. I just needed to move in another direction.”

“For what it’s worth, Ed, my husband, and I were getting seriously disjointed. I was so alone all the time and we were losing each other completely. One night when I couldn’t stand it anymore I was on my way out the door to find attention elsewhere when he unexpectedly came home. I think he knew what I was about to do. That night he got his hotwife and I get more attention than I know what to do with.”

“Where is he now?”

“Work trip but we’ve been texting and he knows I’m here. He asked me to call him later and tell him everything.”

The three of us talked and imbibed for the next hour until Gloria said she was going home. Realizing we were in the same parking ramp we decided, for safety reasons, to walk together.

As we walked the block to the ramp she asked to see me again and I said as much as I loved our fun I was trying to keep my adventures to single encounters for now.

“It’s just a matter of excitement,” I explained.

She stopped and kissed me, saying, “Are you sure you don’t want to swing my direction?”

“Not for now, Gloria, but you never know.”

Right then a car I recognized all too well pulled up next to us, “How much for both of you?!”

***

When Ed got home Sunday afternoon we sat in the living room talking about our Saturday night. To avoid being in two minds we decided to have a cellphone free evening. So our mutual whereabouts were an unknown until now.

“You first,” I said.

He laughed, “Okay…well we had a great dinner with the client. He came with a woman we assumed was his wife although he only introduced her as Grace. She was a stunning girl and Jeff, my trip partner in crime, kept looking at her while the client, Dominic, was talking. I kicked Jeff under the table.

“She didn’t say much while the three of us blabbed on about work.Then the ever too inquisitive, Jeff, asked Grace, ‘So what do you do?’ In total surprise that she’s addressed in the conversation she looked at Dominic, thought for a second then, ‘I’m sort of a goodwill ambassador.’

“We all laughed, only vaguely understanding what we were laughing about, and as Jeff started to talk to her again I whacked him in the shin once more. By now it was clear to me that Dominic’s ‘date’ was an escort. But that made me laugh to myself because of your Larry story.”

“So that was your night?”

“Basically, yes. However, Jeff fared a little better. It seems that Grace was a gift of entertainment from the client and about one AM, according to Jeff, she came to my room, knocked on the door and got no response because I was sleeping hard. Then she went down to Jeff’s room and the rest is suck and fuck history.”

“Oh my poor baby! So you never got to play with Grace?”

“Not only that but I had to listen to Jeff talk about her all the way home.”

“My poor, poor, baby. Awwww. How about your Mara makes you feel better? I’ll let you fuck me while I tell you about my Saturday night.”

“That would really help,” he chuckled.

We scurried off to the bedroom leaving a trail of clothes on the floor and as he eased his cock in me…”Saturday I was feeling tired so I ordered in.”

“Ordered in?”

“Ya, I called Danny, the bartender from the roadhouse, and he came over about the same time Grace was knocking on your door…and he brought a friend…”

***

The next morning at breakfast Ed told me he invited three young couples from work over for a dinner party Saturday night. “I’m sorry to spring this on you last minute but here’s the good news. I’m having the dinner catered so you won’t have to cook. Just tidy up and I’ll help you with that.”

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Cop Reports: Speeder

© 2023 by MormonJack

I cannot express how grateful I am to VallesMarineris (VM to me because I’m lazy and don’t want to type it out each time). VM’s encouragement, guidance, suggestions, and critical advice were essential to me in putting this story together. You should check out some of VM’s stories if you haven’t, yet. I can only hope that some of VM’s skill and talent with rub off onto me. Like many, I tinkered with the story after VM’s last review. So yeah, all errors are mine.

Thanks for taking a look at this: my first story posted on Literotica. Your constructive feedback is welcomed. Disparaging comments about cops (and me, for that matter) will be deleted.

This story is based on my experience as a police officer. A little of this is fictionalized and the rest is based on an actual traffic stop. If you don’t like cops, or a cop’s perspective, do us both a favor and just move on. And no: there is no sex in this story, but the event was somewhat sexy and pretty interesting, at least to me.

I plan on submitting some other stories from my years as a police officer (and still going). I plan to group them together under the Cop Reports banner/series. Likely most will be on the lighter side of things, hopefully even humorous. I like seeing the “funny” (if there is anything funny) in the situations I encounter. It makes it easier to sleep at night. However, I’m also toying with stories that are dark. Well, that is, if I can bring myself to relive them enough to write them down.

—–

Can a cop be professional and an unintentional voyeur?

—–

It was early evening, 6:30pm, mid-July and 85 degrees. The sun was still high in the sky and there were no clouds to shade us. The Puget Sound area is not hot like Phoenix, but for us “weather-wimps” in the PNW, when the temp hits 85 degrees it IS hot. It is especially hot if you’re sitting in the sun in a black car, like my black patrol car.

I was watching traffic approaching our position using my side-view mirror. Abruptly, my radar emitted a shrill sound. By the pitch of shrill I knew, but I took a quick glance at the readout anyway, then looked back to my mirror.

“A red Mustang,” I said, “but I’m not going after it.”

“What do you mean you’re not going after it?” asked Liz.

Liz, or Officer Elizabeth Quick, was my field training officer (FTO) at that time and was sitting in the passenger seat (which the rookies fondly call the LAFTO seat or lazy-assed field training officer seat) making notes on my daily evaluation sheet. I’m sure that Liz had some similar name, if not that very one, for FTO’s when she was a rookie. It just that way.

I was monitoring traffic on a 4 lane road in and out of town and, in my view, 35mph was too sedate for the road.

“It was 10 over, and I don’t stop them unless they’re going over 10,” I replied. “I don’t cite unless they are going at least 15 over, or they act like jerks to me,” I added because I knew she and I were at odds on that point.

We had this discussion before. Her view was that if she goes to the trouble to stop someone, she’s going to give them a citation, and she will stop someone at 10mph over. Me? Well, it was like I told her, I wouldn’t cite unless they are going at least 15 over. My “rules” were within department policy. Still, it didn’t stop Liz from huffing and scribbling some more notes in my eval.

Liz might have been making notes, but we were good. An rookie officer gets to know their field training officer rather fast: you spend anywhere from 4-6 straight weeks, 5 days a week and 10 hours a day, working together before transferring to the next FTO. We quickly got to a friends status. Oh, “working together” really means that the FTO would mostly watch you, guide you at times, criticize you, and evaluate your performance for Admin, but not actually “work” together, unless there was a need for the FTO to step in and actually lend a hand. Anyway, she and I got along well so I could get away with some sass.

A few minutes later the radar emitted another shrill sound. I could tell this one was pitched higher and my adrenaline surged: game on. I took a quick glance at the readout to confirm what I suspected and then looked back (side mirror again) to see what’s happening.

I spoke up, “It’s a black sedan weaving around a couple of cars. I’m going to stop it.” With all that I had to do, I forgot to call out the speed to Liz. But I was going to stop the sedan: she had to know it was over 10, right?

Watching it in the side mirror, it looked mersin escort like the black sedan was speeding toward us much faster than the readout suggested, but I had locked the speed on the radar and was fast enough for me to make a stop. I put the patrol car (OK, it was technically a patrol SUV but what does that matter?) into gear and checked my mirror that I could merge into traffic.

“It’s clear to get in behind them,” I said to Liz, referring to the black sedan and two other cars. I waited just a few seconds for the sedan and the two cars to clear our position. “Civic,” I told her. “I couldn’t catch the license plate. I’ll get that when I we are close. The windows seem tinted. I only got a vague outline of the driver, and probably only the driver in front.”

With the black sedan and the two other cars past my/our position, I pulled into traffic and accelerated hard, trying to catch up as quickly as practicable. At the same time, I activated my lights and siren. I quickly caught up to and passed the two intervening cars as they pulled over to the side of the road. The black Civic was about 50 yards ahead of me, and not yet slowing. I wasn’t sure whether it would stop or not.

‘Surely,’ I thought, ‘the driver had seen the flashing lights and heard the siren by now.’

With some additional acceleration, I got within 20 yards of the Civic, at which point I was able to discern the license plate number. I slowed and maintained a safer distance behind the Civic. The driver must have finally noticed me behind them, and started slowing. I backed off my speed, still maintaining my distance to the Civic.

With the Civic slowing, I grabbed my radio mic and called out, “Dispatch, Patrol 456, traffic stop.”

A second later we hear dispatch’s acknowledgement: “Patrol 456.”

“City Avenue and Baker Creek with Young X-ray Queen four nine one,” I replied to dispatch.

“Patrol 456; Dispatch copy: City Avenue and Baker Creek with Young X-ray Queen four nine one. 1845.” (That’s 18:45 military time or 6:45pm).

I could hear Liz writing things out on my eval. I could see out of the corner of my eye that she was nodding while writing. ‘Good grief,’ I thought, ‘how can she write while the car is moving?’

I silenced the siren but left my emergency lights on. I pulled to the side of the road and then positioned my patrol car so that the nose of the car was extended slightly into the far right lane. This created a protective space for me to talk to the driver without getting hit by an oncoming vehicle.

‘Damn,’ I thought as I unbuckled, ‘I should have told Liz as I was turning off the siren and positioning the car. Ah well. I may not have said it to her, but she certainly had to notice.’

I checked behind for oncoming traffic as I activated my body-camera. “‘Bodycam’ on, and I’m clear to get out,” I told Liz. I saw her nod as she was getting out as well. Like me, she tapped her body-camera and started recording.

I approached the car on the driver’s side, pausing at the back corner of the black Civic to touch it. In the Academy I was taught that touching the car leaves my prints on it, ostensibly creating proof that I did, indeed, stop the car in a traffic stop. It’s not really necessary with body-cameras anymore, but I had an old-school traffic instructor teach me to do so at the academy.

‘Damn,’ I thought as I quickly pulled my hand back, ‘that is fucking hot!’

Obviously, this car had been out in the sun for a while. I heard a laugh/snort and looked up see Liz smirking at me. She raised her hand and wiggled her index finger at me. Apparently she didn’t buy into the old-school ways. Shaking my head, I proceeded forward. Liz was a pro: she moved forward at my pace toward the passenger window to make sure she could scan the car and observe my traffic stop interaction.

I checked out the sedan as I moved toward the driver’s seat. I saw balloons and presents (?) piled up in the back seat. No wonder I didn’t see anything when it passed me. I couldn’t see anything dangerous or suspicious in the back or on the floor, so I moved forward a bit more just as the driver’s window was rolling down. Moving closer to the window, I could feel the air-conditioning from the car. It felt good, actually. And there, looking out the window, was a young woman’s face. An attractive young woman’s face.

‘A very attractive young woman’s face,’ I thought.

Positioning myself to speak with her, and to scan the front interior of the sedan, I start my “traffic spiel.”

“Ma’am, muğla escort I am recording this conversation. I’m Officer Smith. The reason I pulled you over …” I blanked.

I could see that she was crying. At my pause, she blurted out, “I’m so sorry so sorry I have never been pulled over before and I’ve never had a ticket and I’m so sorry and I’m nervous I don’t know what to do when I’m pulled over and I’m so sorry oh God I’m crying.” Or something like that.

I didn’t blank because she was crying or nervous or rambling. No, I blanked because my mind had just registered that this young lady was wearing a full-body fish-net stocking and, seemingly, nothing else. (To be honest, a bit later I also noted that she had on some slippers. It’s something an officer is supposed to look for because the law prohibits driving barefoot.)

I regrouped. “Umm…” Ha! How is that for regrouping?

I powered on, “Yeah, the reason I stopped you is because I measured you going 49mph in a 35mph zone. So, I …” Another pause.

I realized, at that moment, I could see the cutest, perkiest creamy-colored breast with a rock-hard nipple prominently poking through the fish-net stocking. Using my analytical mind in conjunction with my police-trained observation skills, I thought, ‘Wow, the air-conditioner seems to be working fine.’

I defy all you guys out there, and some of you women, to say nothing of the sort would have occurred to you and that you, as a police officer, would have professionally carried with your spiel without the slightest pause.

Being a rookie, I looked up for help, thinking, ‘This is definitely a time for a female officer to take over. Liz! Yeah, she has my back, she should handle this!’ So, as Miss July (that’s how I thought of her) rummaged around for a tissue, presumably to dry her tears so her makeup didn’t smear, I looked over the top of the car toward Liz. I knew, as a good FTO, that she had seen my predicament. My belief was confirmed as I saw that her lips were drawn together in a tight grin to keep from laughing out loud. I’m sure she sensed the pleading in my eyes. Yet, to my dismay, she shook her head, turned, and walked back toward her LAFTO seat in the patrol car, leaving me to “suck it up.”

I centered my mind, reminding myself to focus on my training. I looked back into the car, to Miss July’s eyes (I’m not kidding there), and said, “Ma’am, you’re going to be OK. However, right now I need to see your license, vehicle registration and proof of insurance.” Phew… the general traffic stop spiel was complete.

One of the important things you learn and train at as a police officer is to “watch the hands.” So, I watched Miss July’s hands. More particularly, I watched her right hand as it reached down between her legs, lifted her right leg up, and pulled her driver’s license out from under her leg.

‘Whoa,’ I thought, ‘bare!’

She handed me her license. I took it like a gift from God that it was. Miss July, aka Miss Amy Lyons, sat there for a moment, looking at me expectantly. I realized that she likely forgot the other documents I requested. It happens all the time, actually.

I smiled and said, “And the vehicle registration certificate and insurance card, please.”

“Oh right,” she replied, startled that she had forgotten. “They’re in the glove box.”

Paying close attention (safety first, right!), I watched as she unbuckled her seat belt and leaned over to the passenger side of her car to get the vehicle registration certificate and insurance card out of the glove box. Honestly, I tried to just watch her hands and I was fairly successful until I could tell that there wasn’t a gun or knife in the glove box. After that, I didn’t try so hard. Being an observant officer, however, I confirmed that her body stocking did NOT have a back pocket, which explained why she was sitting on her license.

I must say that I genuinely appreciated the view of her perky left breast, but the truth is that I’m an “ass” man. So, it was with the utmost professionalism (ha!) that I confirmed that she had a spectacular ass, which moved in small but interesting ways as she dug around in her glove box for the requested items. Scratch that, in my opinion her ass bordered on world-class, and I’ve not seen anything close to those gorgeous cheeks in person. Again, I defy you guys to tell me you wouldn’t have looked.

She returned to her sitting position and handed me a vehicle registration certificate and her insurance card. As you probably know, most people have many old vehicle nevşehir escort registration certificates in the glove box, as well as a current certificate. With a quick scan, I confirmed that the vehicle registration certificate she gave me was expired.

Looking back to Miss July — Dear God, she had gorgeous puppy dog eyes, too! — I pointed at the date on the registration certificate and said, “This is an expired registration certificate. Do you have a current registration certificate?”

“I think so,” she said, nodding to the affirmative.

Once again, blessedly, she stretched out to the glove box and scavenged around in it until she found another registration certificate. I swear to God I did not groan as she stretched out that second time. And, fortunately for me, it took longer this second time for her to find another registration certificate. Oh, just you all know, I knew that Liz would point out, and record in my daily eval, my error were I to return with an expired registration certificate. For that matter, I also checked to make sure that the insurance card was up-to-date. Just to be sure. It was.

She sat back up and handed me the documents. ‘Wow,’ I thought, ‘I could watched her do that all day.’

“Wait here, please, while I verify these documents on my computer,” I told her.

Once back in my patrol car, I saw that Liz had tears in her eyes from laughing.

“You saw what she was wearing! Why didn’t you take over?” I asked.

“You’re the one that stopped the car,” she replied, “not me. It’s your stop. You’re going to have to deal with ‘awkward’ shit once you’re on your own. Oh, and it is funny as hell watching you squirm.”

I double-checked all of the records on the MCT (mobile computer terminal) in my car. It turns out that Miss July, or Ms. Lyons, lived just a few miles back the other way. She had a valid license, current vehicle registration, and current insurance. I reported the same to Liz, and then made to get out of the car. Liz stopped me.

“Aren’t you going to give her a ticket?” she asked, nodding to the MCT. We use a computer program to generate the citations. We have a small printer in the car to print them up.

“Nah,” I said, smiling, “she was only going 14 over.” That wiped the laughing grin off her face. She gave me that “knowing” scowl, but whatever: she could put it in my evaluation if she wanted. As I told her before, my ticket limit was 15mph over.

I returned to talk to Miss July.

Trying very hard to look her in the eyes, and mostly succeeding, I asked, “Why were you going nearly 50 in a 35mph zone? What’s the rush?”

She blushed! It was cute.

“Umm,” she replied, “I’m on my way to a birthday party for ‘a friend’ and I’m running a bit late.”

‘Damn,’ I thought, ‘that is one very, lucky “friend.”‘

“OK,” I said, “I get it: you’re running late and trying to get there as quick as you can. HOWEVER,” I said, trying to give my most-stern look, “you can’t go that fast down this street. Today, though, I’m cutting you a break: I’m just giving you a verbal warning to slow down.”

As much as I wanted to drag this “traffic stop” out, I was pretty much done and I knew I needed to let her go.

“You’re free to go,” I said. “Please drive slower and safely.”

As I held out her documents, I realized that she was probably right-handed (we watch the hands, right?) as she turned her body to me to take all 3 documents with her right hand. With that revelation, I also confirmed that the air-conditioner was still working just fine on both sides of her car. Yeah, rock hard and standing up through the fish-net.

Walking back to my patrol car, I stopped the recording on my body-camera. I got back into the patrol car and, after the Civic left, I drove about 50 yards to a safe location off the road.

I grabbed the radio mic. “Dispatch, Patrol 456 clear of traffic stop.”

Dispatch was quick to respond, “Patrol 456, dispatch copy, 1903.”

‘Eighteen minutes’, I thought. ‘Not bad, though I wished it had been longer.’

I looked at Liz. She was nodding and writing some more notes. I though my performance was really good. I entered my traffic stop notes on my MCT, excluding any mention of the fish-net body stocking or how well she rocked that look.

Lastly, I concluded my notes with a statement that the encounter had been recorded on my body-camera.

‘Video…hmm,’ I thought, smiling to myself. ‘Maybe I will watch the body-camera video later. Just to critically evaluate my traffic stop, of course.’

I looked up. Liz was staring at me like she knew what I was thinking.

“It would be for evaluation purposes,” I said, weakly.

Liz tilted her head and raised an eyebrow over her right eye. “You did just fine,” she told me. “Better than fine: it was awkward and you did well. No need to review.”

Damn!

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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

“Come on, guys, I have two boys at home. I don’t want them to see their mother’s boobs on the Internet.” Janet turned away but she could feel her pussy getting wet at the idea.

Janet was at Mardi Gras on a whim. She had met a man that seemed interesting and he promised to show her an awesome time if she would spend three days with him at Mardi Gras. Without knowing why, she agreed. And now she was wondering if she had lost her mind.

Janet Hawkins was a fairly Conservative woman who hadn’t had a one-night stand in years. In fact, she hadn’t been fucked in more than a year. And she hadn’t had anything exciting between her legs that didn’t run on batteries in more months than she could remember. Granted, she had had two sons, ages nine and eleven, and that restricted her dating life somewhat. She had married a man who ran as soon as the second son was born. Apparently, he wanted to make babies but didn’t want to stay around to raise them. So she raised the boys as a single mom and had totally dedicated her life to her sons, but in the past few months she had begun to feel quite frustrated by her limited life.

And now Janet was at Mardi Gras with almost every man and boy asking her to flash her tits at them.

Janet was a very attractive thirty-nine years old. She was of medium height and had long, shapely legs that showed her exercise routine nicely. She was slim with C-Cup boobs and a tight ass that she spent hours each week at the gym to maintain. She had long dark hair and expressive, deep eyes that seemed to get a lot of attention from the few men she spent time with.

Her best friend had set her up with Jerry Walsh, a commercial Realtor of comfortable means, for dinner with her and her husband. Brenda had met the man when she was looking for commercial space to lease for a craft shop she was starting. She liked the man and discovered he was single, so she couldn’t resist setting up her best friend. He seemed to be nice, maybe even more than nice, and Janet had actually enjoyed dinner with Jerry and Brenda and her husband. And when the evening was over, he didn’t even suggest they go back to his place for sex. That wasn’t just rare in Janet’s limited experience with men, it was simply non-existent.

And when Jerry called her three days later, she agreed to go out with him again. This was the first time she went out on a second date in more than a year. Dinner at a fine restaurant and a movie, with drinks afterward at a very classy lounge, plus interesting conversation with a charming man, all made for a wonderful evening. And Janet found herself enjoying the evening more than any evening in years.

And when he suggested they go away to New Orleans for Mardi Gras, she was shocked at first, and then very excited.

“Come on, Janet, I am not inviting you for three days of sex. I even have a suite so you can have your own bed. It’s just that I love the fun and excitement of getting away for three days each year. Mardi Gras is a totally unique American experience and I promise you will love it. I mean, when was the last time you got away by yourself without your kids and had fun on your own?” So, after thinking for no more than two seconds, she agreed to accompany this near-stranger for a few days at Mardi Gras.

And now that they were in New Orleans, Janet was beginning to rethink her decision.

“Jerry, I can’t believe how many men are asking that I flash my tits. Hell, I am an old woman!” When she said that, Jerry laughed.

“No, you are an exceptionally attractive women with a great body. It is not at all surprising that some men would want a better view of that body. Although I am a little surprised that so many men would actually ask when you have no beads around your neck.” This comment got Janet’s interest and she asked him to explain. Jerry grinned at her and replied.

“The tradition at Mardi Gras is for many women to let go of their everyday morals and flash their boobs. When they do, they are rewarded with a string of beads. Some men spent upwards of a hundred dollars on beads to hand out, and some spend even more, in the hopes that they get to see a lot of boobs. And you are attractive enough to warrant a few requests. But most women who aren’t wearing any beads are not asked. You just happen to be sexy enough that some men will risk offending you in the hopes they are rewarded with a quick glimpse of what they believe are beautiful boobs. I am sorry about this. I didn’t expect that so many men would bother you. If you would like, we can go back to our room and watch things from the balcony.” It was Janet’s turn to laugh.

“I have been watching the balconies, Jerry. Women are hit on as they sit watching things from on high. No, I don’t think going back to our room will change anything. I will just have to grin and bear it.” As soon as she said that she knew it was the wrong choice of words and she quickly glanced at Jerry.

“I didn’t mean that. It is just a saying and I should have chosen a different saying.” Her expression showed more than a little embarrassment and Jerry was quick tokat escort to reassure her.

“Relax. I knew what you meant.” But as much as he tried to be polite, she saw him try to hide a smile. The truth was, he was hoping that she would give in and flash her tits because he really wanted to see them himself. This thought led to him not hiding his grin anymore, and Janet saw that.

“Oh, I get it. You are hoping I give in and flash my tits so you can see them. You are just like all the others here.” He tried to look innocent but that lasted for only a few seconds. So he decided to be honest.

“Janet, you are a beautiful woman and I would be lying if I didn’t want to see your boobs. But I am trying to be a gentleman, and gentlemen don’t ask women to flash their boobs. Not even at Mardi Gras.” Jerry’s face showed his honesty and she liked that about him. On the other hand, she sensed more than a little disappointment deep down inside of her. She suddenly found herself in a quandary. She was excited about the possibility of showing her boobs to him yet wanted to honor his attempt to be a gentleman. And then she was astounded by the thought that came to mind.

If she flashed her tits to someone asking her to, she could let him see her tits without either of them breaking his commitment to being a gentleman!

And suddenly Janet knew she was going to flash her tits.

She looked down at her clothes, almost as if trying to guess how easy they would be to take off. She wore a short skirt in dark blue with a short-sleeved sweater in a light blue and stretchy material. Underneath, she wore a matching set of light blue underwear. The bra was almost totally lace and didn’t hide anything, and the matching thong didn’t hide much either. But, she sighed in relief, they don’t have to hide much since she wore a skirt and sweater. But she did note that her hard nipples were clearly announcing their presence.

Mere seconds later, a couple about her age stopped in front of her and asked her to show them her boobs. Janet didn’t even hesitate. She grabbed the bottom of her sweater and quickly raised it above her shoulders, pulling her bra with it, giving the couple a clear view of her awesome tits. She held that pose long enough to sense a thrill running up and down her spine, and then she lowered her blouse. She quickly glanced at Jerry to see his reaction and found him staring at her chest with eyes the size of saucers. She felt her pussy tingle at his expression. Then she ducked her head so the couple could slide her first string of beads over her head. She was breathing hard as she glanced at Jerry again, seeing with satisfaction the wide grin on his face.

“Shit, I don’t believe I did that.” She seemed out of breath as she said that, still looking at his grin.

“Truthfully, I don’t believe you did that, either. But I must confess that I am so glad you did.” Surprise was the dominant expression in his eyes but the grin remained. And Janet felt her pussy leak some juices. And suddenly she knew she was going to do it again. Self-consciously, she fingered her beads as she smiled at him.

“You liked that, huh?” He only nodded, his wide grin almost covered the lust in his eyes. And Janet realized that she liked the lust in his eyes. A few seconds later, three guys in their early twenties asked her to flash them and she did. This time she held her blouse up for several seconds as they howled their appreciation. As she pulled her blouse down, one of the boys asked if she would let him lick her nipple. Janet felt her nipples get even harder than they already were at the request, but she declined. Then the kid made a surprising request.

“How about letting your husband lick your nipples? Surely that would be okay, right?” And Janet froze. Things had escalated from a constant stream of ‘no’ to a spontaneous granting of their request to letting Jerry lick her nipples here on a crowded street, all in less than two minutes. She quickly glanced up at him and Jerry grinned at her, his lust even more pronounced. Janet grinned at him as she turned to face him. Then she slowly presented her tits to him, thrusting them forward to make it easier. Jerry grinned and bent over enough to gently place his tongue against her right nipple.

The three kids hooted and hollered as Janet held her pose for several seconds, with Jerry’s tongue self-consciously pressed against her nipple the entire time. Then one of the kids blurted out a comment.

“Come on, man, relax and enjoy that thing. Don’t just stand there like a robot.”

Without breaking his tongue’s contact with her nipple, Jerry glanced up at Janet as if asking for permission. Janet resolved the situation by placing her hand behind Jerry’s head and smashing his face against her boob. Then she shook her shoulders from side to side, forcing Jerry to suck her nipple into his mouth. He paused like that for a second and then sucked on her nipple. He licked her nipple for a couple of seconds and then sucked it deep into his mouth. After at least ten seconds yozgat escort of pulling his face against her boob, Janet let go and took a step back to look him in the eyes. After another couple of seconds, she realized that her boobs were still on display and she quickly jerked her blouse down to cover them. She was breathing hard and noticed that Jerry was totally out of breath. And then the three kids screamed and dropped two strings of beads over her head, thanking her loudly.

As she looked at them, she saw that two of them had their phones out and had been taking videos of her actions. Panic hit her heart for a second as she realized that the videos were probably going to find their way onto the Internet. And then she was shocked when she heard herself speak.

“Hey, guys, would you mind sending those videos to my phone?” The boys went wild at her request and asked for her number. She gave it to them and her phone immediately signaled that the videos arrived. She turned to Jerry again and apologized, looking quite embarrassed.

“I am so sorry. I don’t know what happened. I acted without thinking and I am sorry if I embarrassed you.” Jerry reached out and took both her hands in his and grinned widely.

“Janet, that was possibly the most thrilling experience of my life. Please don’t apologize.” His eyes showed he was sincere and Janet found her pussy oozing even more juices because of his response. She held his gaze for another few seconds, her appreciation evident in her eyes. Then she almost exploded.

“Shit! I don’t believe I did that! Are you sure you are okay with that?” In spite of his assurance, her face showed a little excitement mixed with a lot of panic. And she wasn’t finished with her embarrassment.

“I am so sorry. I have never done that. Hell, I have never flashed anyone in my life.” Jerry quickly spoke.

“And yet, it clearly excited you, right? I could tell because your nipple was wonderfully hard.” Janet pondered his question, and then pondered even longer her response.

“Actually, it did.” And her face really showed her embarrassment as she realized just how much her actions excited her. Jerry peered deep into her eyes and she returned his gaze. And then he bent down and kissed her.

It was a gentle kiss but it quickly morphed into a passionate kiss as their tongues danced the intricate dance of lust. And then he pulled away, his eyes searching her eyes for some indication of her feelings. Her eyes remained locked with his for a couple of seconds and then she reached her hand behind his neck and pulled him into another kiss.

This time, she was the aggressor and she communicated her lust. And when she pulled back, the lust remained in her eyes for several more seconds. Then she suddenly turned and began walking down the street. Jerry quickly chased after her, still breathing hard from the kiss.

A few seconds later, another group of college-aged kids asked her to show her tits, and Janet never even hesitated. She pulled up her blouse and gave them a long look at her tits. The college kids screamed their excitement and Janet grinned hers. She looked again at Jerry and saw lust and excitement on his face and Janet felt her pussy ooze some more juices. She was amazed at how much she enjoyed teasing him and she gave him a wide smile. She grabbed his hand and they continued walking while she counted her beads.

Seconds later, they stopped to stand beside a woman who was flashing her tits to two older men. As the woman stood there with her boobs exposed, one of the man pushed Janet closer to the woman.

“I want a picture with both of you flashing your tits.” Janet looked at the other woman who turned to thrust her boobs in Janet’s direction, a question in her eyes. Janet looked down at the woman’s boobs and then grinned. She yanked her blouse up and pressed her naked boobs against the other woman’s boobs. Several people in the crowd went nuts, screaming and clapping, and the excitement in the air was contagious.

Janet moved her shoulders, causing the four boobs to rub against each other, and the noise level increased. Half a dozen phones were thrust closer, taking pictures and videos of the sexy show. Janet looked closely at the other woman, causing things to escalate. As if being directed, both women reached up and began to massage each other’s boobs. And when the other woman grabbed Janet’s right nipple and pinched it hard, Janet screamed and almost dropped to her knees in surprise. Jerry seemed to expect that and he reached under her arms and held her vertical. Seeing Janet’s excitement from having her nipple pinched, the woman grabbed the other nipple.

This time she pulled them and tugged them in circles as she tried to put on a show for the cameras. Then, without letting go of the nipples, she leaned down and kissed Janet on the lips.

Janet froze, not having expected that. Janet hadn’t kissed another woman since college, and she wasn’t sure how to react to this kiss. But she didn’t pull back and the other woman noticed that. zonguldak escort The kiss heated up and in another second the two women were tasting each other’s tongues in ways that really put on a show. After several seconds, Janet pulled back.

“Listen, I’m not…” The other woman interrupted.

“I’m not, either. But doesn’t that just make this more delicious? I mean, I am about to cum. How about you?” Janet grinned weakly as she nodded. And then the grin widened and she leaned forward to renew the kiss. The two women kissed sensuously as they mauled each other’s boobs. And Janet didn’t even pull back when the other woman reached under her shirt to play with her pussy.

“Shit, you are so wet, girl!” Janet let her play for another second or two and then slowly pulled back. The two women peered deep into each other’s eyes and then Janet became aware of the screams and cheers around her. For a few seconds, she had lost herself in the sensuous actions and she forgot the crowd was there. Now, she saw a dozen cameras recording everything.

And as she stepped back, several hands replaced hers on the other woman’s boobs. The woman let the hands roam freely, letting them squeeze and massage her boobs and even pinch her nipples. But when hands tried the same with her boobs, Janet jerked away and dropped her blouse to cover her boobs. A twenty-something man grabbed her boob anyway, and Janet slapped him on the cheek. The sound of the impact seemed to echo even louder than the cheers it caused, and Janet saw the surprised and angry kid pull back to hit her. But a hand grabbed the kid’s wrist and suddenly Jerry was nose to nose with him.

“We don’t hit women when they slap a pig. Walk away and you won’t get hurt.” The two men glared at each other from about four inches apart, and then the kid jerked his wrist free and walked away. Janet smiled a silent ‘thank you’ and took his hand as they started to walk down the street again. Looking back, Janet saw the other woman still had her breasts on display and was still letting a dozen or more hands maul her breasts.

“I have to confess, Janet, that was the hottest scene in my memory. I can’t believe how much the two of you turned me on.” He groaned loudly as he paused and then continued.

“If you felt moved to repeat that, please know that I won’t complain.” Janet smiled at him but her face was red with embarrassment.

“I have never done that before, Jerry. I think Mardi Gras has corrupted me and made me do things I would never do anywhere else.” Her sheepish words were underscored by her red glow. And yet she took his hand and squeezed it as she kept walking. After several seconds, she realized that her pussy had been leaking juices for several minutes without stopping and she concluded that she actually enjoyed the experience. She glanced quickly at Jerry and she could see how much he enjoyed it. And then she looked down and saw an obvious boner pushing against his pants and she suddenly felt like she might cum right there on the sidewalk.

Ohmygod, I love turning him on!

And Janet just smiled as the two of them walled down the sidewalk. Of course, they only walked for a few seconds until they almost bumped into a small but very noisy crowd. Jerry pushed a couple people aside and the two of them peered through the wall of people to see two women enjoying each other’s bodies. They had removed their tops and were standing in the center of the small crowd absolutely mauling each other’s bodies. Boobs were being squeezed aggressively, and one of the women was reaching inside the waistband of some very stretchy yoga pants, clearly playing with the pussy she found there. They were kissing quite passionately while moaning and groaning loudly.

Janet stared, absolutely mesmerized by the women playing with each other’s body in such a public forum. She found herself getting even wetter than before, and still she stared. One of the women motioned her forward and Janet took the two steps that separated her from them and leaned in to kiss the other woman.

A second later, she felt hands on her tits and she let the two women squeeze and massage her boobs through her blouse. And then she surprised herself by pulling up and off her sweater and bra to let the two women play with her boobs more easily. She glanced at Jerry, thrilled to see the lust in his eyes as he watched the three women. Seconds later, Janet shocked herself when she lifted her skirt, revealing her hairy pussy to the crowd.

Immediately, one of the women shoved a finger deep inside her and Janet shouted her surprise and her pleasure at the abrupt penetration. Janet thrust her pussy hard against the woman’s finger, forcing it even deeper. And the three women licked and stroked and massaged each other for quite some seconds. Then one of the women dropped to her knees in front of Janet and feverishly attacked her pussy with her tongue.

Janet looked down and watched as a stranger licked and sucked her pussy for quite some seconds. Suddenly she screamed, throwing back her head and arching her back. The crowd watched Janet cum for several seconds, her body quivering, before she began to calm down after her personal storm. Then the crowd burst into applause, clapping and cheering loudly as she looked around, her eyes settling on Jerry. The look of lust in his eyes almost made Janet cum again.

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December 8, 1987

After just over twenty years, my wife and I finally have the house to ourselves again. Our youngest son has just left for College this past September, and while we’re very happy for him, and excited for his future, we’re still adjusting to a quiet house.

Lisa, my wife, would invite her girl friends over each Tuesday for a Weekly Girls’ Night. I’d mostly stay out of their hair. I don’t have anything against Lisa’s friends — I like them all very much — but their girl talk doesn’t interest me, so I’d try and make myself scarce. Seems lately I find myself napping in the other room, presumably recovering from my Monday night bowling league; We’re on track to be league champions!

We’d just cleared the table from dinner, knowing Lisa’s friends would be arriving in a few minutes. “I’ll just head upstairs and putter around for a bit. Have fun tonight, hun.”

“Oh no, not so fast, buster. Stick around tonight; we’ve got a movie I think you’ll enjoy.”

Lisa knew my Achilles heel. I was a big movie buff, and enjoyed watching just about any movie — comedy, western, action, foreign… even the odd romance, on occasion. “Oh, what movie? Is it a new release?”

“Yeah, it’s very new. And it’s a surprise. You’ll have to wait until the girls get here.”

“Okay, if you’re sure I won’t be intruding… sounds fun.”

“Excellent. I promise you, the girls will love playing with you.”

——

Over the next dozen minutes, each of the Girls’ Night group trickled in. Bonnie was the last one to arrive, bringing the total to seven: Me, Lisa, and five of Lisa’s friends. Bonnie was grinning at me eagerly while asking Lisa “Is he going to do it tonight?”

“Yes, tonight’s the big night,” my wife replied.

“This must be some movie to have you all so excited.” I spoke to the group as a whole. Nervous laughter was the only reply I received.

“John, you don’t know the half of it,” Lisa began before softly adding “(anymore).” Before I could ask her what that was supposed to mean she started ushering me and her guests to the TV room. “Let’s get this movie started. Bonnie, you get the wine, I’ll pop in the tape.”

Lisa sat me down right in the middle of the couch while the other ladies took up the spots beside me, filling out the rest of the couch. She then went over to our camcorder and ejected the video cassette.

I stifled a yawn, curious why we were playing a camcorder recording. Was this a movie Lisa bootlegged from pay-per-view? As Lisa walked closer to the VCR I leaned back in the couch making myself a little more comfortable. Lisa pushed the cassette into the VCR slot and pressed play.

My eyes gently closed.

————————————

I awoke several hours later feeling quite refreshed, but slightly embarrassed. I sat up and wiped the drool from my chin. “Oh, I’m sorry, ladies. Guess I was more tired than I thought tonight. I hope my snoring didn’t ruin the show.”

The ladies looked at each other, like they were sharing a joke, before Lisa answered for the group “No, your… noises complimented the, uh, show nicely. Besides, we were just about finished anyway. The girls were just about to ‘head out’.”

I stood up, and as sometimes happens after a long nap, my member started to ‘awaken’ with the rest of me. I was just thankful my comfy shorts hid my burgeoning erection.

“Well, I’m sorry I missed it, but I’m glad you all had a good time. I’ll help see you out.” I walked with Lisa to our front door, turning on the foyer and front porch lights. I stood beside Lisa with my arm around her waist while her friends put on their boots and coats.

After they were all dressed for outside I opened the door, shivering slightly as the cold reached me through my clothes. One by one Lisa’s friends gave her a hug and gave me a handshake as they filed out the door.

Bonnie was the last one to leave. After hugging Lisa, she gave me a handshake like all the others. Then she extended her reach to clasp my forearm. Without letting go, she looked me right in the eyes and asked “John, describe what I’m doing right now. What would you call it?”

“What… the handshake?” I was a little bewildered at the simplicity of her question. “I dunno… it’s just like a sort of Roman gladiatorial handshake, right?”

Continuing with her handshake, she gave my forearm two quick squeezes in succession. “Exactly right, John. Just a fun little handshake between friends; my favorite kind!” Without loosening her grip on my forearm she looked at my wife. “I can’t believe this worked! How long can you keep him like this?”

“That’s entirely up to John.” My wife replied. “Or at least his subconscious.”

“I think I’m going to have to start coming by more often, now.”

“Ha ha,” Lisa laughed. “You’re always welcome. Bring your Mom, next time. I’d love to hear how retirement’s treating her.” Lisa offered.

“Ha! I love it!!” Bonnie gave my forearm one more shake and squeeze before reluctantly releasing her grip, and left for her car.

Still standing in the open doorway watching her, and ordu escort the rest of Lisa’s friends off, I turned to my wife and said “Bonnie was acting a bit weird there… what’s up with her?”

Holding back her laughter, Lisa replied “Well honey, ‘Hypnosis does work.'”

Immediately upon hearing that phrase, my memories of the evening came rushing back to my wakeful consciousness.

“Oh my God!! I can’t believe I did that!!”

————————————

Several hours earlier…

John had just sat down in the center of his living room couch, surrounded by Lisa’s friends. It was only through Lisa’s insistence that he sat in the center rather than off to one side, as his instincts had first tried to have him do. As far as John was aware, tonight was supposed to be strictly a ladies night, so he wasn’t quite sure yet why he felt like the guest of honor.

He was surrounded by Lisa’s friends, Christy, Marjorie, Jill and Wendy. Bonnie was in the kitchen grabbing a bottle of wine, and Lisa was diligently setting up the home electronics, to her very exacting specifications.

Lisa, with the help of her friends, had spent the last eight Tuesdays very carefully conditioning her husband by way of hypnosis, and tonight they would reveal the full fruits of their efforts. If all went well with John tonight, Lisa expected there to be many repeat performances in future Tuesdays’… maybe even multiple night a week.

Lisa carefully and exaggeratedly ejected the tape from the camcorder — the first step in John’s conditioning to enter a hypnotic state. John visibly relaxed at the simple early stage, making himself more comfortable on the couch.

John was such an easy subject, only two steps were required from him to re-enter his altered and suggestible state of mind. The final step was putting the very same video tape into the VCR and pressing play.

The screen was filled with a snowy static, and a gentle white noise filled the air. It was immediately obvious to all present that John was completely unconscious. His eyes were closed and his breathing had fallen into a steady pattern.

Bonnie walked back into the room carrying two bottles of wine and a stack of cups. “I wasn’t sure who wanted red and who wanted white, so I brought them bo– shit, is he out already? That’s the fastest yet! But why is he still wearing clothes? Get him naked already!! I’ve been divorced for six months, I want to see some dick tonight!”

Wendy countered, “Bonnie, it is Lisa’s husband you’re talking about, y’know. Show some restraint. Besides, maybe we shouldn’t be doing this. Taking away John’s free will and using it to expose him to us all does sound kinda creepy. It’s violating. How would you feel if the tables were turned?”

Bonnie responded “Who cares how he feels, he’s a man!! Let’s be honest, if the shoe was on the other foot, he and his buddies wouldn’t hesitate to get any or all of us all naked.”

Lisa finally chimed in. “Ladies, we’ve been over this. Hypnosis doesn’t work that way. We can’t get him to do anything his subconscious doesn’t actually want him to do. He’s a willing participant.”

“Whether he knows it or not!” Bonnie couldn’t help but add.

“That’s exactly my point,” continued Lisa. “He’s already agreed! Oh sure, we conditioned him to forget, but that was just so he wouldn’t be embarrassed every time he saw one of you. Bottom line: he’s my husband, I love him, and nobody” she locked eyes with Bonnie “is going to do anything to hurt him.”

The static on the TV changed to the show an image of John and Lisa’s living room. The room was empty, and 09-15-1987 was time stamped in the lower corner.

Wendy whispered excitedly “Shhh, it’s starting, it’s starting!!”

“Wake him up, let’s do this!”

Lisa patted her hands out, signalling the friends to quiet down, and turned her attention to John. Speaking softly, she said “John, you are in a safe place surrounded by friends. When I count to three you will awaken feeling calm and alert. As you see events happen on the TV, you will not recall them or your reaction to them, but they will feel completely familiar and innocent. You will also have no memory of being hypnotized, either now or previously. Any experience that feels out of the ordinary, you will perceive as perfectly mundane. One. Two. Three.”

John opened his eyes, unaware any time had passed at all, and focused his attention on the TV. In the recording, all six ladies were on screen settling into various seats.

John grinned at the the ladies present and gestured towards their recorded selves. “Oh, so this is what you ladies get up to on Tuesday night when I’m not around! Do you take turns practicing for ToastMasters?”

“Not quite, smart guy,” Lisa joked back. “You could say we’re documenting a science experiment. Watch.”

——

The recorded Lisa called out “John, can you come down for a minute? We need your help with something!”

A few moments later John appeared on the screen. He looked towards the camera then quipped to everybody “Oh, osmaniye escort so this is what you ladies get up to on Tuesday night when I’m not around! Do you take turns practicing for ToastMasters?”

“Not exactly,” the recorded Lisa responded with a wink to the camera.

“Say John,” interrupted Bonnie, “‘is it hot in here?'”

“No, I don’t think so. Need me to turn up the A/C?”

“Never mind.”

——

As the recording of John was remarking on the A/C, the real John silently stood up and walked over to Bonnie, standing in front of her. He reached down to the hem of his shirt and pulled it up over his head. He turned it back right-side out and folded it, before handing it to Bonnie. Bonnie took it without comment. John walked back to his spot on the couch and sat back down, topless in just his jeans.

Bonnie raised her right eyebrow and smirked in Lisa’s direction. Lisa responded with an approving nod.

——

“No, John. We’re going to hypnotize you.” The recorded Lisa said.

“Ha, hypnotism doesn’t work!” John replied confidently.

Lisa walked over to John and placed her hand on his arm. “Oh, honey, you couldn’t be more wrong. By the time we’re finished with you,” she spoke seductively, while lightly caressing his arm, “you’ll be our naked play thing. You’ll do whatever we want, and we want to watch you cum.”

“You guys have been hitting the bottle early tonight. Never gonna happen. Hypnosis just isn’t real.”

——

“I’d forgotten about your hypnotism gag.” The real John replied to the group as he watch the playback. “I would have thought you’d forgotten about it too. Not to repeat myself,” John gestured at his image on the TV, “but there’s no way. You’ll never get me clucking like a chicken.”

Christy spoke up “Cluck like a chicken?”

“Yeah, what Lisa just said in the video: make me play a chicken. Make me cluck.” John said.

“You’re sure about that? ‘Is it hot in here?'” Christy asked John.

John stood up and walked over to stand before Christy. He unbuckled his belt. “Absolutely positively. Hypnosis is just the stuff of stories.” He pulled his jeans down his legs and stepped out of them. Folding them, he handed them to Christy then sat back on the couch, wearing only his blue boxer briefs. “I promise you I’ll never cluck like a chicken.”

Bonnie couldn’t help but reply “John, I’m inclined to agree with you. Maybe you could ‘head out’ and ‘serve us’ girls some wine.”

At the mention of the first trigger phrase, John’s cock began to swell. As it raised, it formed a tent in his briefs. First small, then larger. Within seconds it was pointing towards the horizon, pulling the waistband away from his skin. Technically he wasn’t exposed –anyone close enough to peer down would only see inky shadows — but he was far from decent.

Before his mind could process what was happening in his underwear, it reacted to the second trigger. He immediately stood up and affected his best English accent (which wasn’t especially good). “Yes, ma’am. Right away ma’am.” He walked to the end table where Bonnie had placed the glasses and wine and proceeded to pour and deliver a full glass to every participant. He served Lisa’s glass last — like a good hostess should — and asked “I trust everything is satisfactory, ma’am?”

“Oh yes, I’d say everything is coming along quite nicely,” she answered with a smile.

“Very good, ma’am.” John replied automatically. He took a half step backwards, just enough to show a butler-ly deference to Lisa and clasped his hands behind his back, waiting for any further drink requests.

“Cheers!” said Lisa, casually, while tapping her glass against John’s still horizontal dick. His member wobbled slightly, but stayed confined within its blue prison, despite its attempts to extricate itself.

Drawing her attention back to the TV, Wendy exclaimed “we’re missing it!”

“Oh, big deal,” said Christy. “We never even did anything that first night. Just a lot of talking. For over a month!”

“A lot of talk, yes, but essential for John.” said Lisa. “He had to become familiar and comfortable with the basics before we could… ahem… broaden his horizons.”

“You mean get to the dirty stuff!” Bonnie said bluntly.

“Yes, Bonnie. But I suppose we could fast forward a bit.” Lisa reached for the remote and pressed the fast forward button. The images on the screen sped up and the time stamps increased.

First 09-22-1987, then 09-29-1987, speeding past several more before Christy shouted “Stop! Here’s good!” The time stamp read 10-20-1987.

——

All the ladies were present, as was John. He was dressed in his usual casual evening attire: t-shirt and jeans. He was seated in the couch, eyes closed, clearly in a trance. Lisa was speaking to him. “… and whenever you hear the phrase ‘serve us’ you will become a refined English butler. You will be compelled to provide the best personal service you can to all the ladies around you. If you hear the phrase a second time, you will stop being a butler and have sinop escort no memories from your time as a butler. If…”

——

“Ugh, no that wasn’t it.” Christy was obviously disappointed. “Keep going a little more please.” Lisa obliged. “Stop! Ok, now I’m *sure* this is the bit I want.”

——

10-27-1987

Again, all were present in the living room; John under Lisa’s spell sitting peacefully on the couch. The ladies were discussing what the next suggestion should be. Bonnie snapped her fingers. “I’ve got it. John needs a nice Halloween costume. What if we…” Bonnie leaned over and whispered in Lisa’s ear. The whispers were too quiet for the camcorder to pick up.

Lisa’s smile grew with each word Bonnie relayed. “Yes, yes I think that will do the trick.”

Walking closer to John, she began her instructions. “John, whenever you hear the phrase ‘is it hot in here’ you will stop what you are doing, and you will walk up to the person who said it. You will not think about what you are doing — you will not even realize you are doing it. The answer in your mind is always ‘yes, it is hot in here’ so you will remove one layer of covering to cool off, until there is nothing left covering you. You will then fold each piece of clothing you remove and gratefully give it to the person who reminded you of the heat.

——

John was halfway through refilling Marjorie’s wine glass when he heard the phrase on the television. He set the glass and bottle down, his ‘butler duties’ forgotten, and walked wordlessly in front of Lisa. He unceremoniously peeled down his briefs, causing his cock to spring out, slapping his belly. Released from its uncomfortable confines, his cock now pointed nearly straight up to the North Star. John let his underwear drop to the floor and stepped out of them. Picking them up he delicately folded them and offered them to Lisa.

“Thank you,” she giggled.

Resuming his butler role, John placed his hands behind his back and nodded curtly as his wife. “Ma’am.” Then returned to pouring Marjorie her refill.

——

“Thank god. I’ve been wanting to do this one from day one! Now let’s test it out!” Bonnie said eagerly.

“Uhmm…” Lisa wavered, appearing to have second thoughts. “We usually wait a session or two before trying a new command out. It gives it time to bake in better, to feel more natural for John, but I guess Halloween is this Saturday. Okay, Bonnie it was your idea, so you do the honors.”

“Oh Johnny, ‘is it hot in here?'” Bonnie asked very exaggeratedly.

John stood up and walked to Bonnie.

——

Mirroring the recording, John dropped his butler facade again, and walked to face Bonnie. She was sitting on the edge of her seat on an ottoman beside the couch. From where John now stood, his pubes were less than an inch from Bonnie’s face. If he’d been aware of his actions, he would feel her warm breath blow through his thick bush at the base of his cock. If she’d though faster, she would have reached her tongue out and licked him without moving her head. He stood there for an eternity– in Bonnie’s mind;– 20 seconds in actuality. Then, abruptly, he turned and walked up the stairs, and out of sight down the 2nd floor hall.

Meanwhile, on the TV forgotten by all, the image of John rather mundanely removed his long-sleeved work short, revealing his t-shirt beneath, then sat back down.

Utterly stunned, Bonnie stammered “Uh… what the hell just happened?”

“Did we break him?” Wendy worried. “Maybe he snapped out of it…”

“Wendy,” Lisa started patiently, “if John wasn’t hypnotized anymore, do you think he’d all but face fuck Bonnie then calmly leave the room?”

Bonnie blushed at Lisa’s remark, realizing her earlier thoughts had been written all over her face.

“Okay, so what then? Is he going in reverse now and putting on more clothes?”

“Oh, I hope not.” Wendy mock whined. “I had started to acclimate to an underwear-clad man-servant. I was looking forward to having a completely naked one now!”

“Well maybe he’s putting it on so he can take it off again?”

Lisa mused, “does sound kinda redundant, but I guess hypnotized people don’t take the most thought out actions.”

They heard a noise at the top of the stairs and all turned to see how John had interpreted his subconscious suggestion. Wendy gasped, Lisa grinned and let out a soft “Oh my.” Bonnie laughed and stomped her feet like an excited school girl. “Holy fuck! That’s… awesome!”

John reached the bottom of the stairs and all the ladies could clearly see John had completely shaved his pubic hair. Over 30 years of man bush was gone, as if it had never been, and his crotch was as bald as the day he was born — albeit now significantly more impressive.

He walked through the group, again stopping before Bonnie. John had walked back to the exact same spot he’d left, however Bonnie must have shifted forward ever so slightly in the ensuing confusion. John, still sporting a massive erection and standing before Bonnie, gently pressed his boner against her face. She was in no hurry to move, but was instead savoring the experience. His cock went from her chin to her forehead, and she could feel his every heart beat as it pulsed through his cock. They were so close to each other that his cock would tap her forehead every time it pulsed.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Hello Tony, I’m Graham, Jenny’s husband. She told me that you two used to be “very close” but didn’t explain how close. Did you get your fingers into her cunt when you were on your own. I bet you liked to slide your hand up her leg, under her skirt and into her knickers. Then let your fingers rub her cunt lips until she started to get wet, so you could slip one then two fingers inside her. I bet she liked to stroke your hard cock and then kiss the end of it before letting it all go into her mouth so she could suck you off.

Do you lay in bed wanking now thinking about those days and wish you could do it again. Well here’s how you can.

She’s on all the social media sites, so message her and say hi. Then ask her to meet you for a coffee, and suggest the Costa in town. When you get there sit at the table under the painting of the red car, I’ll be sitting in the corner out of sight. Make sure she sits on your left hand side. As you’re chatting to her let your hand karaman escort brush against her leg a couple of times, then let it rest there. Very slowly move your hand till it’s on top of her thigh and rub gently in circles. Keep telling her how great her legs are and how sexy she still is. Tell her she’s getting your cock hard without touching it. Move your hand upwards till it’s on top of her cunt and then rub a little harder. Tell her to feel how hard you are and I’m sure she will reach across and give it a squeeze.

Now tell her that you should go for a walk. Across the road there’s a park, and behind the toilets is a gate that leads to some bushes. Take her there and I’ll be watching. Lean her up against the big tree and gently kiss her. When you feel her kissing back push your tongue into her mouth and get your hand inside her blouse. Her nipples will be hard by now and you can play with them but keep your tongue working inside kars escort her mouth.

Reach down and lift her skirt, nobody can see what you’re doing, except me, and I’ll be enjoying the view. Hold her skirt up to her waist and pull her knickers down to her ankles. Then we will both be able to see the cunt that you’ll soon be fucking. Get your fingers working on her cunt Tony, she will get so wet and start moaning. Unzip your trousers and take your hard cock out. Tell her to stroke it and she will. Get her to bend over and suck it, if you position her right you’ll be able to slip your middle finger all the way up either hole. This will send her wild. Now you should start talking dirty to her. Say that she’s a dirty slut sucking your cock in public and tell her to ask you to fuck her soaking wet cunt. She will do anything now, just keep kissing her and rubbing her clit. Then pull her towards you, lift her left leg and place your cock at the kıbrıs escort entrance to her cunt. Get your tongue working in her mouth and inch by inch push your cock into her.

By now I will have my cock in my hand and I will be wanking at the sight of you fucking my wife. After a few minutes you can start to go a little quicker and she will be moaning and telling you to fuck her harder. Soon you can go as quickly as you want, and you’ll feel her cunt juice pouring out of her hole. In a little while she’ll be saying things like ” you’d better fuck my cunt harder you bastard, get your cock working inside me and make me cum. . . yes fuck me and shoot your hot cream up my fuck hole.” She loves to talk while being fucked, Tony. Now you can really pound into her hot wet cunt until you cum, filling her cunt with your hot sweet creamy juice. She will be ready to cum about the same time and will be moaning and swearing, so get your mouth onto hers and keep her quiet. If you look towards the bushes on your right you’ll see me cumming as well.

Afterwards you can keep her knickers as a souvenir, get her to ring me and I’ll pick her up. Enjoy yourself fucking my wife Tony, because I’ll enjoy myself watching you fuck her.

Best Wishes. . . Graham.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

I absolutely hate COVID-19!!! I know I am not alone. Life is full of challenges and I have had my fair share of grief, difficulties, challenges, drama, successes, victories, beautiful moments, along with loving and joyful times. I was just so stressed out with too much to do and too much going on, and this pandemic wasn’t helping any! Deep down I knew that something wasn’t right within me. COVID-19 lockdowns, restrictions, masking, social distancing, and barriers seem to have brought out the worst of my depression and anxiety, that I used to be able to keep at bay. My life has been totally disrupted and I couldn’t stand how I was feeling. I know many are dealing with similar situations.

I knew I needed to talk to someone, to get professional help. I called the phone number to the Counseling Group practicing in my town. I set up an appointment, and went with an open mind. I kept telling myself, “I am not going to cry. I will be honest but I will hold back some to see how it goes before opening up completely.”

Well, after seven minutes with Vicky, I was crying my eyes out, weeping like a baby! It actually felt like a cleansing. So much for holding it in, I couldn’t stop sharing. I met with Vicky ten times thinking I may actually be getting better. It was at the end of this tenth session that she tells me that she is leaving that practice and moving out of state. I was shocked and truly felt betrayed for some reason! She had set me up with another counselor next week for the same day and time.

I go to my next appointment with Cassie, my new counselor. She asks a few questions, and BAM, tears fall like rain!

Cassie told me, “Jerry, you have way too many roles in life and each position or role you have adds stress, and right now you are overwhelmed.”

I said, “Yeah, I know. But right now, there isn’t much I can do. Too many folks rely on me. I can’t let them down! I wear many hats in life. Each hat also contains a mask I have to wear. I am ready to unload many of these hats but, right now, I just can’t.”

Cassie said, “You remind me of a children’s book, called ‘Caps For Sale’. Do you remember that book where the man has this tall stack of hats or caps on top of his head. I think he was selling them. He took a nap under a tree and the monkeys took all of his hats. I bet you wish those monkeys could find you!”

I replied, “I remember that book. I had it. Could you point me in the direction of the monkeys?” We laughed thinking about it.

She stated, “Okay, there is something I want to talk to you about. Your former counselor Vicky diagnosed you with severe depression mixed with bouts of anxiety. Did she share with you her diagnosis of you?”

I was shocked! I questioningly stated, “SEVERE depression? No. She never told me her diagnosis of me. I don’t want to be put on any more meds. I take enough already! Severe depression….okay….what can I do to fix it?”

She hesitantly said, “Well…..this is not something that is going to get fixed overnight. You did not get in this condition overnight. It will take time and patience. We will need to meet every week for an hour. Now, if you are willing….there is an experimental form of counseling therapy that has worked for some. I have been studying some controversial experimental counseling therapies that strip the individual of all of the stressers, removes all hats and masks, and eliminates everything that conceals the true center of the person. If you are interested, we can begin to meet for a weekend session of this experimental therapy. It is actually a very old practice that is beginning to make a comeback. Many have been able to overcome depression and also were able to eliminate anxiety altogether. Looking over the notes from your previous sessions with Vicky, I believe this will be a great tool for your healing. What do you think? Want to give it a try?”

I thoughtfully replied, “If you think it has a good chance to work, and improve my outlook on life, I am willing to give it a try. I am willing to try just about anything at this point. Now, I do have a few questions though: First, will you be staying here at this place? I do not want to go through changing counselors every couple of months.”

She was nodding her head as she answered, “Yes, I plan on staying right here. kilis escort I have no plans of moving my practice elsewhere, nor do I plan on a change of careers. I love what I do. I love it here.”

I was relieved to hear her say that. A peaceful calm washed over me. I followed with, “So glad to hear you say that! Ok. Secondly, is the new experimental therapy covered by my insurance?”

She laughingly stated, “With it being experimental, no insurance is needed for it at the too good to be true price of free! However, I am using all who participate in this therapy as anonymous case studies for a doctoral thesis. So it is free-of-charge to you! How can you turn down free?!?!”

Being relieved I excitedly said, “Wow! That is awesome! I like cheap, I love free! Where do I sign up?”

We shared a laugh. I added, “Okay, so what is the catch? Is there a catch? Do I have to purchase anything or rent something, strum a harp, sell flowers, or shave my head?”

Cassie laughed which caused me to cautiously laugh. She snickered, “No, you don’t have to sell flowers, play with a harp, or shave your head! Of course you can shave whatever you want. The only out-of-pocket expense to you would be the cost of the weekend stays in a campground, resort, or a retreat, as well as taking care of your personal transportation along with your own food and drinks. Sound good?”

With enthusiasm I said, “No, it doesn’t sound good, it sounds great! Are you kidding me? That is the best news I have heard all week! So, what all is involved in this new FREE therapy you are offering me?”

She looked at me tilting her head looking as if she is trying to figure out how much to tell me. She asked me, “Well….do you remember everything you shared with Vicky?”

I thoughtfully replied, “Well, I remember most of it. I saw her ten times so….for the most part, yeah.”

She said, “Tell you what, after reading Vicky’s notes, I can assure you that you will not only enjoy it, but it will give you an outlet to be fully you. You are not in a hurry are you?”

I replied, “No, I am not in a hurry. Why?”

She got up from her chair, went across the room and looked outside in the hall. She closed the door and locked it. She went back and sat down again in her chair. She asked, “Jerry, do you trust me?”

I looked at her and though I just met her I did trust her. I answered, “Yes. Yes, I trust you. I don’t know you that well but I trust you.”

She smiled and looked me in the eyes and said, “Stand up.”

So I stood up.

She said, “Take off your clothes.”

I looked at her briefly, my heart skipped a beat with anticipation. I smiled, and asked, “Could you please repeat that?”

“Sure, Jerry, take off your clothes. Starting with your flip-flops, then your shirt and t-shirt, then your shorts and underwear. Hang your clothes on the hook on the door. Place your flip-flops by the door.”

I looked at her and felt compelled to do what she said. A wave of embarassment hit me but I did trust her. I felt like I was dreaming. I quickly removed my flip-flops, then my shirt and wife-beater. I hung them up on the door hook. I unbuckled my belt, unfastened my shorts and unzipped them. I became bashful as my dick was beginning to lengthen and fill up. I looked at her and said, “Am I doing alright so far?”

She was watching closely the whole time smiling. She replied, “Yes. Now remove your shorts and underwear and and hang all of your clothes on the hook on my door.”

My face showed an eagerness but my insides was nervous. To be open, transparent, not hiding anything, no hats, no masks, no hinderances. Just me. (Will she approve?) I removed my shorts not looking at her, hung them up, then my hands grasped my underwear, I looked her in the face….and lowered my underwear. My growing cock sprung up. I stepped out of my underwear and picked them up, hung them up with my shorts. I stood facing Cassie totally free of any and all concealment, feeling totally and completely vulnerable, accessable, submissive, hopeful, and horny.

I stood up straight and forced my arms to go to my sides in a normal standing position instead of covering my erect cock and balls. I also faught the urge to masturbate to completion. I await what comes next.

Cassie kırklareli escort looked at me. She really looked at me, looked me in the eyes and saw my soul. She said, “Come closer. Stand right in front of me.”

I moved to stand right in front of her. Our knees touched. My bare knees against her dress covered knees. My erection got harder somehow. You could see my heart beat by my dick pulsing up and down. I was obviously excited and I truly felt alive! It felt as if I had just emerged from my coccoon of depression and was ready to take flight for the first time. It seemed as if I was reborn without stress, without anxiety, without pressures, or limits. I was released from the cage of shadows and I am now experiencing the light of the sun for the very first time!

I was free for the first time in a very long time. My whole body was radiating positive energy. I looked at Cassie with a smile and a twinkle in my eyes.

She saw the change and said, “You are absolutely glowing! You have not stopped smiling since you have removed your hats and masks. How do you feel? Can you express it?”

I looked at her and thoughtfully expressed, “I feel as though the weight of the world has been lifted off of my shoulders. I am now me, with nothing preventing or limiting my inner candle from shining! I am now without any disguise, or bonds! I am alive, fully alive, emotionally alive, sexually alive, and mentally alive! I am no longer tethered to the dark clouds and bound by the chains of depression. I am free! I am truly me!”

She smiled. “Give me your phone and open it for me.”

I turned and retrieved the phone from the couch. As soon as I touched it I felt a weight jump on my shoulders. I opened it and handed it to Cassie. As soon as I got my hand off of the phone the glow and freedom was restored.

She was watching me carefully. She saw the change but didn’t comment yet. But I saw it in her eyes an acknowledgement of it. She starting pushing buttons and swiping the screen. She said, “Jerry, I need you to close your eyes briefly. I closed them. All I could hear is our breathing. I then heard her make a pondering sound (Hmmmmm) followed with decisive grunts and hums (uhhh….hmmm, mmmm) and a few elated gasps (Ahh…ha).

“Open your eyes Jerry. I saw the change in you when you touched your phone. You view that phone as a chain or line to your stressful life. I want you to open your pictures on your phone.”

I opened up the photos app. I saw she had taken several photos of me in all of my free glory! I looked at close-ups of my face, my body, as well as my hard precum leaking cock. I looked amazing, happy, and at perfect peace! I said aloud, “Wow! I don’t look like the same person that I saw in the mirror this morning!”

“I am so glad that you see the physical difference of the inner free you. I took those photos to help remind you of who you truly are. Now close your phone and look at your screen saver. It was a photo of my face with my eyes closed that looked amazingly peaceful.

I simply said, “Oh wow! Amazing!”

She agreed! She said, “Alright Jerry. I want you to take your hands and rub your whole body with them. Starting from the top of your head and move slowly down. Take your time. Enjoy your body. Feel pleasure. Give yourself as much pleasure as you desire. There is nothing off limits to a free man!”

I nodded my head in understanding. I raised my hands and felt my head, rubbing my scalp, feeling my hair, changing the touch from light to heavy, soft to firm, slow to fast. I touched my face and neck and rubbed warmly and intimately. I was absorbed in my touch. I was accepting myself. It felt great. I moved my hands down to my chest and massaged my chest.

Cassie stood up from her chair and got closer. She moved behind me without saying anything. I felt her touch my shoulders mimicking my touch. She had a small mirror off to one side of her desk. Through her mirror she was watching my movements. She rubbed my shoulders and lowered her hands to my back. As I rubbed my chest and then lowered to my stomach, she went lower on my back. As I touched my waist line, she moved back to sit down in her chair. She sat forward on the front edge and stretched her hands around my hips and rubbed karabük escort the top of my butt.

My prick was as hard as a brick and leaking a lot of precum. My hands lowered to the small amount of manscaped pubic hair that is a small two inch patch above my cock. I was rubbing my small bit of hair and she rubbed lower on my butt. It all felt amazing and electric!

I reached my erection and felt my pulse. I softly touched my cock as if I was edging closer to orgasm. I softly held my cock with an extremely loose grip. Moving up and down, up and down. Holding my moan to a quiet exhale of breath. I was close to orgasm. My nuts felt full. It was like visiting Old Faithful and waiting with abated breath for the geyser to shoot at the right time.

I looked Cassie in the eyes and saw the reflection of my glow. No. She was glowing too. She was excited as well. She slipped one hand away from my butt and slid her dress up. I couldn’t see details or her hidden flesh but I could tell she was touching herself. I stroked with a renewed passion and energy. I knew I was close and I could tell that she was catching up. I stroked my cock more firmly with my left hand and began playing with my balls with my right hand. I heard a stifled whimper come from Cassie as she absorbed my sexual energy and evidently touched her clit just right. She said, “I want you to cum now.”

I was on the edge of orgasm but didn’t want to shoot my cum all over her. I took a couple of steps away from her and turned slightly to the right. I was facing the blinds covered window and just as my orgasm began, I moved my right hand a few inches in front of my cock.

I looked Cassie in the eyes and my orgasm overtook me. I was abducted on the pirate ship named Pleasure and we was pillaging the town called Pressure! My cum shot out like a cannon ball shot from a cannon. I felt pleasure on a scale I have never experienced before. I blasted my baby batter into my right hand repeatedly. I shot around ten times, each shot after the fourth had less velocity and volume but held similar enjoyment.

She had an earthshaking orgasm that moved her chair. She stifled her volume but made the BIG O face repeatedly. She jerked almost violently in the throes of orgasm like she was being shocked. She curled her toes on her bare feet multiple times and humped her hand as she watched me shoot and catch my cum. She went limp and smiled the smile of satisfaction.

I squeezed the remainder of cum from my cock like you would the last of toothpaste from a tube. I collected it all and looked at Cassie to see what she wanted me to do.

She saw my questioning look and said, “Let me see your cum.”

I took my cum filled hand and showed her my white milky nut juice.

There was more than I thought as I had to hold it in a cupped hand. I didn’t dare drop any on her floor. My left hand went to my softening dick tip and collected a few more drops of it so I added it to my sperm collection.

She said, “Jerry, don’t waste your man juice. Swallow it. Consume it. Let that energy go back into you.”

I smiled. I have swallowed my cum before. I liked the taste of it. A salty sweet blend of my own making. I eat a lot of fruit. That helps a lot! I brought my hand to my mouth and began to slowly pour it in my open mouth. Some landed outside of my lips so I licked it all up. I cleaned my hand with my tongue and sucked it off of my fingers. I loved this sweet treat I produced today. It actually tasted sweeter than normal.

Cassie smiled big. She had removed her hand from under her dress and was using a hand sanitizing wipe to clean it off as she watched me. She asked me after I had cleaned my hand off, “Well, tell me how do you feel?”

“I am at peace now. I know who I am and I now know how to escape the stressful prison cell of my disguised and masked life. Thank you so much for being my GPS to pleasure and peace!”

“All good things must now come to this brief end. Our time is almost up. Get dressed Jerry. I want you to not make any plans this Saturday. We will have a special session. I will text you the details.”

“Okay, no problem. I am supercharged and ready for my special session!” I hugged her, got dressed and said, “Thanks again for everything! This was enlightening and utterly amazing! See you soon!”

To be continued?

I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please leave me some feedback. Message me and rate this story. Tell me what turns you on. What gets you all hot and bothered? Let me know if you have a CFNM or a cum fetish like me. More to cum?

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

On a scalding hot afternoon Monica Gift felt mischief roll over her body like the sweat beading up on her. One of the hottest days of the summer she decided to go for a walk. Recalling the last time she walked through town after a Car Show it just sounded thrilling, even as she lost her bikini to devilish pranksters. That is until the Cops picked her up for streaking. Of course, said Cops had evil intentions of their own. She made an agreement with them that day that would rescue her every time she misbehaved. Ever since that bargain was struck she grew bolder and bolder, Bitch was invincible. Today she was going to create havoc.

Donning a hot pink spaghetti string bikini that barely hid her assets, by assets meaning her bulging cleavage. Ingeniously exposed allowed her areolas to easily be viewed if she so much as tugged the material, melons ripe for the picking. More flesh revealed than covered! Her bottoms concealed her silky smooth snatch but hovering low, just above her clitoral region. If she had pubes they would easily be seen. Thin strings tied loosely about her waist held them on but just barely. She hated the sensations of constriction, a simple bow tie sufficient. The string between her ass cheeks revealed 99% of her ass, a stunningly tight heart shaped ass at that, with just enough booty to jiggle as she walked.

Her only other attire being dark sunglasses, flipflops, and body jewelry consisting of a belly chain and ankle bracelets, in her hands her cellphone. A tiny bottle of baby oil which she had tucked beneath her bikini bottoms for safe keeping looked silly but did draw eyes to the area. Giggling about it as if she referred to it as her PUBEscence. It was light and just snug enough to ride along without falling out. Most of the time. Occasionally she did need to put her fingers down there to nudge it back in. Doing that around traffic if looked as if she were touching herself as she strolled. The bottle rubbing over her clit had a very erotic measure of success as well. Friction! So sexy!

Her parents were out of town to spend time together without Monica. Much needed for all parties. After her Mother almost discovering the incest between Monica and her Dad they had concocted an argument between them to create enough friction to throw Charlotte off the trail. It was difficult on everyone but the three of them had worked it out for now.

Her Dad still got the best of both worlds, even without Charlotte knowing the full truth. Monica got her Daddy anytime he asked her for it. Her Mother learning to overlook and embrace the unspoken intimacy between them, thinking it innocent enough when they did try and make up from squabbling. Not easy, but not impossible! Monica was glad to be her own woman today. This was a stress reliever. No school antics, no students growling over Jimmy Newton’s getting the hot girls as per his deal in helping take yearbook photos. Not even any arguments out of Principal Knave Janson. So far! She had him by the balls so let him stress. This was Monica’s private time. Today was all about her freedom.

Her journey started at her front door ten minutes ago. Heading down the street and turning east toward the business district where traffic was heavier. She enjoyed the sun on her flesh as she wiggled down the sidewalks, not many trees or bushes to hide behind so to speak. Cars were repeatedly slowing to wave, adding in some high volume wolf calls and sonic boom whistles. Most verbal abuse was sexual but there were a few cranky women pissed at the world. Whatever! Get plastic surgery! Better yet move!

Most people enjoyed the sight of a Playboy Playmate in waiting, while others seemed less sociable to her freedom. She ignored those folks as best she could, lusty guys generally defended her in her times of need. Not that Monica cared! What were they going to do, call the cops? Those that were nice she taunted and tortured hard. Light flashes, blown kisses, flicking tongue, spanking her own ass cheeks, they loved it all. Shaking her tits until prize nipples snuck out to say hi in all of their hitchhiking glory. A large portion of her voyeurs were greeted with a mischievous wink, she just as quickly covering herself with a feigning blush. She was hardly embarrassed. So much fun! Her fanbase was coming out of the woodwork.

As usual there were guys she knew from school driving around. Some would pull over and coax her to their cars, risky but rewarding. She would offer them chances to play with her tits as she knelt close. Guys going so far as to peel her cup from her breast and suck on her nipples. She loved it. They loved it more. The one thing she refused to do was join them in their car. Oh, but they begged. Not knowing many of them that would or could be a grievous mistake. Luckily there were so many voyeurs even if she was drug into a car her watchers would give pursuit and save her. That or help abuse her. It was better she avoided any ride along. Nope not today! gebze escort Not yet at least! It really depended on who. Eventually, she left them wanting more and continued her bubbly stroll. Torture was her middle name. Monica Gift was a living legend.

Stoplights were noisy. Honks leading her to dance about waving. Her zest creating a frenzy of testosterone. Guys craved her. She craved guys. Just not yet. For now she just wanted to rile up the town. Boy was it working. Everywhere she walked the cars followed. Rats to the music of the Pied Piper. She was in no hurry either with no true destination. For a town about 12,000 strong it felt like 10% were keeping tabs on her. Lingering at a crosswalk she toyed with her bottoms. Untying one side of her bikini and parting the strings to offer a fully nude hip she purposely let her tiny bottle of oil fall to the curb. Squealing playfully she kneels to pick it up and lets her back string dangle between her crack. It was sexy as all get out. Guys were using their cellphone cameras to video her performance. Even guys in their sixty’s. Horny old men were the best. Her flirtations kicking into overdrive just for their benefit. She made their day. They made Monica’s.

As the light turned saying walk allowing her to cross she wiggled hard, toying with her strings without retying them. Her oil bottle was strategically relocated to her left bikini cup for safe keeping. Right in front of waiting cars she does a 360 on her heels and shows off. Tugging her bottoms up into her camel toe. Lips barely visible but begging for a tighter yank. More honks! More ravenous whistles! More encouragement to go streaking. Regretfully she tied her strings and continued on. After slapping her ass cheeks twice to stimulate the masses on the opposite corner she proceeded on.

“That’s right My Hungry Hungry Hippos.” She rubbed her hips as she strutted. “Soak it all up.” Her grin was devilish, her mood just downright evil. She knew traffic was slowing up on purpose, gridlock imminent, just the kind of chaos she had hoped for. Moving casually onward she passed by storefronts, local businesses that truthfully did very little for the community, some barely staying above water. Places she had met good people in, stores she had played around to a resounding success. She wanted to expand though. Going into the same places was fine but she needed to show off everywhere, not just confine herself to the same old song and dance. Some exceptions might be made. Not many. Again…not today.

Stopping to eye herself in the glass storefront of a drugstore she observed the reflection of not only herself but of the cars passing by her. Stimulated by their casual drive by Monica tugs at her bottoms drawing them up between her thighs so that it looked as if she were totally bottomless. Bare ass to those looking. A lengthy dance for her own amusement, ass wiggling about almost a twerk. She could see reactions that ranged from jaws dropping to rubbed chins. Interest was brewing and she loved the expressions captured. A tilt of her chin on her shoulder she looked back at her audience with a seductive wink. They ate it up. With a beguiling smile she releases her bottoms and shakes her booty even harder. A two handed slap to both butt cheeks led her to continue her walk. She was wet as hell. Saliva was not doing much for their chins either.

Reaching the next street corner she had to wait on the stoplight. Cars from all four directions ignoring their chance to proceed onward, but unfortunately toots from cars behind them forced their gas pedal. As the light told her to walk she avoided the cars passing and began her stroll. At the center of the crosswalk she drops her lotion bottle on purpose and bends over to obtain it. In doing so she again untethers one side of her bottoms and lets it dangle. Remaining on yet displaying a full hip and thigh to their receptive gaze. Wolf calls filled the air with howls of predatory intent.

“Take it off.” She hears a middle aged man in a pickup truck leering out his window, hand slapping the metal of his door to get her attention. She stood erect and pinched her remaining string holding her bottoms to her hip. Sticking her tongue out at him her other hand retrieved the already dangled string, holding it out at arms length just before untying the second string. Both strings were held out. Her patch tugged up into her pussy lips she began twisting in a 360 circle which gave all four directions a show. The words spoken were viciously sexy.

As further honking distracted her she pulled attempted to pull herself together by tying very loose bows then skipped to the curb, tits bouncing wildly, her eyes dancing with erotic decisions. It was safe to say every guy watching wanted her naked. Maybe! Not just yet. She wanted to torture them further. Cars were pulling into parking meters just to avoid traffic for a better view, something that rarely happened even on a gümüşhane escort weekend. The business weren’t used to seeing the clustering vehicles. Sad though that business was still not coming in to shop.

To her right one such car turned up their music. A hard rock tune that made her dance, almost thrash even. Bouncing about she hugs a parking meter and feigns using it as a stripper pole. Rubbing her inner thighs along the cool metal pipe holding the meter up felt lovely. She heard someone call out, “Ride my dick like that.” Razzing him Monica stroked the pipe for good measure. She loved a long thick pole.

Giggling she moved from meter to meter performing similarly for each car it was near. Yelling out, “Tip the meter maid.” Numerous drivers did just that, those that found quarters. At least she was helping her town make a living.

Crushing her tits around another pole as if titty fucking it went over well as a gent pumped change in front of her. Chuckling the man rubbed his crotch up against the pole as she brought her compressed breasts up to graze over his lap.

“I love tips!” She bantered he replying, “I love tits.”

Winking at him she hopped up and moved on to the next meter pole in line. Holding it with one hand she spun around it twice before drifting again. Butterfly waves toward every available guy she spotted she strutted away. Heading past a used appliance store she paused to unveil her breasts and crushing them into the showroom glass, the young man inside grinning up a storm. He stepped outside just to watch her abandon her pose with a blown kiss. Another time Sailor!

Just before reaching the next blocks stoplight, Monica noticed a familiar Police cruiser watching her from the next block up, but she wasn’t remotely deterred by it. Nor were her followers. She had a good twelve cars lingering close. Either parked or moving slowly. Some going around the block multiple times.

As she waited on the next stoplight she reached behind her neck and untied her top. Placing the strings between her teeth she palms her breasts jostling them about. The pink top slipped away from her fullness as her hands slipped under the material. Tugging outward the cups escaped her tits and drooped away from her knuckles. Deciding to fold her arms she stealthily removed her top and crumpled it up in her hand. Topless she contained them with her forearms. Guys went gonzo crazy. Four different men coughed up begging, “Show us your tits.” Maybe! Not just yet. Her tongue wagged toward each of them to rile them up. Tongues wagged back, in spades. Offers to eat her pussy were stimulating and plentiful.

Crossing the street topless she blows kisses through pouty lips. Now she was running into foot traffic. Guys had abandoned their cars to walk the sidewalk toward her. Lust was insane. Walking up to her one guy compliments her with his hand palming his concealed erection and choosing to walk alongside her.

“You are one sexy girl.”

“I know. Do you think they all think that?”

“Let’s find out.” He chuckles and raises his voice, “EVERYONE HERE THINK THIS GIRL IS SEXY?” The answer was unanimous as horns blared, men sharing their own verbal sincerity in droves. Hearing their affirmation she jumped up and down. Her arms lowering to let her bare chest be seen for the first time. Nipples dynamic! The man beside her eyeballing their beauty stood away just to show her off as if a gameshow model.

“Christ almighty! Those need to be squeezed.”

Stepping directly up to him with brilliant eyes she posed ready, tempting his obvious greed. “Make the others jealous then.”

That he did! Both of his hands rose to the challenge to crush very strong fingers around her bulging breasts. She coos at his grip as he playfully jiggles them about. Seductive eyes ignite a frenzy about her as she tilts her head sharing her enjoyment of his hostile takeover of her breasts. This was her Marilyn Monroe moment.

“Can you hold on to my lotion bottle and top for awhile?” She giggles passing them to him which forced him to remove his hands. He hated to let go of her tits but accepted her offer. Stepping away she again palms her own tits and continues her stroll. Sneakily revealing peeks at her nipples one palm at a peekaboo as she passed by cars. The Man held back and just watched from a distance to see how bold she might get. In his ogle he grew observant of the streets around them. He had noticed the Police Car just sitting there watching. No siren. No whistle. This girl was getting away with her behavior. Which made him all that much more eager to see how far she might go. She was essentially stripping for the whole world to see. How was she getting away with this?

A flurry of more cars take up the parking meters along both sides of the street. A section of ten cars in a row had been available to them on her side. Each following one another in procession like kids racing izmir escort for the same toy. Maybe they were.

She couldn’t contain her laughter seeing them all line up headlights facing the sidewalk at a diagonal. Stopping in her tracks she bites her lower lip and looks about her for any opposition that might create trouble for her. With none evident she steps to a parking meter in front of the first two cars. Arms abandoning her boobs she lets her audience all take them in as she crushes them around the pole like titty fucking. Having done it earlier she felt inspired to offer the show once more, this time no bikini top hiding her.

Crouching low with her tits compressed around the metal rod she fans her knees wide to offer a succulent view between her legs. Her pink bottoms constricting up into her labia, lips to both sides of her bikini patch. Windows rolled down the comments grew serious. Calling her the sexiest Meter Maid alive. She would take that compliment.

Standing up quickly she dances to a second meter performing the same stunt. Then a third meter. Finally as cars driving by were creating a jam up she threw herself backwards on to a car hood. Looking back at the driver within the car she arches her back and jostles her tits for him, ending with a pinch of both nipples for his approval. Licking her lips she rolls over and blows him a kiss before moving on to the next car.

“So much fun.” Monica wheezes wanting to masturbate, “This reminds me I need to head over to Kyle’s college dorm. That guy Dalton I met at the park wanted me to come strip for he and his frat boys. I’ll call him later and arrange it. Oh, my God I need to touch myself.”

Choosing another car she moves between vehicles and hops up on the hood from the side. Hiking her left leg she runs her fingers beneath her pink bikini bottom and massages her clit before the drivers eyes. The car adjacent him had two guys in it. The seated man reaching out his passenger side window took it upon himself to rub her right leg below the knee. She played coy as he did, not stopping her stimulating fingers even for a second.

On the sidewalk the man holding her oil and bikini top begins to worry that her performance might land them all in jail. Yet, the Police cruiser still hadn’t budged. He could see the two Officers watching with interest. It made him wonder just why they weren’t putting a stop to her lude acts. Women had driven by looking. Yet, none had looked all that upset. Strange it was.

“Cops watching you. Aren’t you worried?” The assistant steps close enough without ruining her moment. As if hearing that might not do the dirty work for him. Still, he felt strangely protective.

“I don’t care. I’m having too much fun with you guys. Let them look. Maybe they’re jerking off watching with their dicks inside their donut holes. Like you guys should be doing. Minus the donuts!” She giggles and kicks her right leg forward for the man rubbing her to get a better grip. He rolled his palms over her calf and grinned. Feeding her ego the driver in front of her leans out and attempts to rub her left foot near his mirror.

“Damn! I can’t reach it.” The man chuckles. There was just too much distance between cars to offer both men their wishes. Instead she chose to abandon the car hood entirely and merely dance between their car doors. Her fingers still lingering beneath her bottoms. Nibbling her lower lip with mischief building she removed her hand. Taking her wet fingertips she brought it up to his nose then tempted his lips. That was all it took! Monica let the lone man lick her fingertips. It gave her goosebumps. It also inspired to attempt jerking off. Watching him lift his hips to unfasten his pants she flared her eyes and told him bluntly, “ABOUT TIME!”

Leaning into his window to observe him unzip his fly and introduce her to his seven inch erection she heard him reply with, “In your honor Cupcake.” Looking up at him with awe as he knuckled his monster she offers the men behind her a giddy expression. Pointing at him was her genius idea to prompt others to follow his lead.

“My biggest fan.”

She sighs leaning on his door jam to watch him. In bending over, the guy opposite his car reached out and rubbed her ass. The envy spread amongst those watching. Everyone had their own desires at this point. Arching her back further Monica Gift offered her ass cheeks to her caresser, his fingers slipping under the string to examine her anal pucker. The tiny cloth patch pulled aside allowed him a deeper entry inside her crevice. A finger poised at her anal cavity made her squeal and dance about as if ticklish. He quickly lost his grip. Hearing his verbal disappointment she switched positions and poised herself face forward into his window. He relaxed back inside as she smirked at him aiming for swagger. Reaching in she rubbed his crotch through his cargo pants. Bulge rising beneath her teasing fingertips she pats it with a hopeful hint.

“Why is this not open and being abused? For shame!”

“I can fix that.” The man unzips and digs under his boxers for a six incher. Within his fingers he wags it at her. She giggled and pecked him on the cheek before pulling away. Leaving him he looked disappointed.

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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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My name is Lauren.

I’m twenty-two years old, and for almost half my life, I’ve suffered from a rare skin condition known as dermainflammatus.

This rare medical ailment results in painful red marks appearing spontaneously on my skin. These red marks throb with scalding pain and to the uninformed, they can look like the marks were caused by somebody beating me with a whip or a leather belt. The first time I visited a doctor for treatment, that’s exactly what he thought happened to me. To make matters even more humiliating, these marks usually appear on my buttocks or thighs, thus making it more likely that people believe I’ve been spanked.

After multiple visits to the doctor, it was discovered that I have microscopic organisms living on my skin. Most of the time, they’ve not a serious problem, but at least once or twice a year, they go crazy and attack the skin that they live upon, and I end up with red marks or abrasions that sting and throb and make it look as if I’ve been the victim of a harsh spanking or whipping or something.

In the beginning, my doctors treated my flare ups with prescription strength painkillers and topical creams, however, I recently started seeing Doctor Hirsch and she said she could prevent these flare ups entirely by having me come in for monthly exams and if she encountered anything suspicious, she could use something called dormienti gel to make the microscopic organisms go dormant before they could do any noticeable harm.

My first appointment with Doctor Hirsch for one of these exams was on June the 20th at the Lago County Medical Center. I arrived there early and sat in the waiting room, eager for somebody to call my name. Dermainflammatus had caused me a great deal of pain and embarrassment over the years. It seemed almost too good to be true, that those painful flare ups on my skin would soon become a thing of the past. After an eternity of watching the clock and picking through old issues of People Magazine, an attractive nurse in medical scrubs popped her head into the waiting room and called out, “Ms. Bonner?”

I practically catapulted out of my chair and called out, “That’s me!”

The nurse smiled at me and led me back to where they had me step on a scale and checked my height. “Five foot, six and one-hundred-twenty pounds,” the nurse announced, and then she took my temperature; she didn’t announce my body temperature, but I’m assuming it was normal.

Then I was taken to an examination room. It was your typical examination room with an exam table with the padded surface at the top, so the patients weren’t too uncomfortable when they laid down on it.

I was there for a medical exam, but I couldn’t help but notice that the nurse an attractive woman. She looked to be in her late twenties, she stood about 5’7″, had long legs, a slender waist, flawless skin, an oval-shaped face, high cheekbones, and a friendly smile that could light up a room.

The nurse checked my blood pressure and asked me a series of medical questions. She recorded all my answers on some sort of computerized device that looked like the PADDs they used in Star Trek, and then she told me the doctor would be in shortly, and that I needed to take off all my clothes.

“What?” I blurted out, shocked at the instruction.

“Dermainflammatus is a skin condition,” the nurse explained, “The doctor needs to examine your skin, from your shoulders all the way down to the soles of your feet. How do you expect her to do that if you’re wearing your clothes?”

I, um,” I said, suddenly feeling flustered, “I was so thrilled when I was told there was a way to control my skin condition, I guess I never stopped to think what the treatment might entail.”

“Well, take a few seconds to think about it,” the nurse advised, “and then get out of those clothes, so the doctor can do her job.”

What the nurse said made sense, but I had issues with nudity that made it awkward for me to take my clothes off in front of…well, just about anybody. The instant I exposed my naked skin to the air, my body responded by becoming sexually aroused. My nipples hardened and my pussy would throb and become wet. It didn’t matter if I was naked in the shower, naked in a fitting room or naked in a doctor’s examination room, my nipples got erect and my clit got swollen. In a detailed medical examination, it was going to be impossible to hide my sexual arousal.

I averted my eyes from the nurse’s gaze as I unbuttoned my blouse. I had dressed in a hurry that morning and had left the house without a bra. Maybe it was my imagination, but it seemed that I could feel the nurse’s eyes burning holes through me as I draped my blouse across a chair.

My nipples began to stiffen and get hard almost immediately. My skirt was tight, and I had to struggle to get it to slither over my hips. My skirt ended up in the chair, on top of my blouse. I kicked off my shoes and slid them underneath the chair before I hooked my thumbs in the waistband van escort of my panties and pulled them down to my ankles.

When I was fully naked, I turned back to the nurse. She was writing something on her PADD-looking device. When she looked back up and made eye contact with me, she said, “The doctor should be in shortly. You can hop up on the exam table now. She’ll want to get started as soon as she gets here.”

The nurse was friendly and polite, but something about the way she looked at me made me think of the way a cat watches a bird as it’s waiting for the right moment to pounce. I felt so exposed and submissive with the nurse watching me. There she was, nicely dressed in contrast to me. I was naked and my shaved loins were shamelessly on display. The stark contrast between my status and hers made me feel totally submissive to her, and that in turn increased my feelings of sexual arousal.

I stood facing her, with my back to the exam table, my bald pubes and my erect nipples exposed to her gaze. My nipples were pointing directly at her, and I pointedly refused to look down at my pubic lips as I was certain that they were embarrassingly visible, plump and glistening with moisture.

I raised my arms and crossed them over my breasts to conceal my erect nipples from her gaze, when the door opened, and Doctor Hirsch entered the room. She was a middle-aged woman who stood about 5’8″ and wore a white lab coat over her regular clothes. I could feel authority radiating off her and felt even more exposed and submissive as I met her gaze than I did with the nurse.

“Lauren?” she asked as she stepped forward and shut the door behind her. This was my first time meeting her and I’m sure she met with a great number of patients each day. It made sense to make certain which patient she was dealing with before attempting treatment or diagnosis.

“I’m Doctor Hirsch,” she said, and she held out her hand for me to shake. Of course, I had to take my hand away from my breasts and expose my nipples once again in order to grip her hand in mine.

Doctor Hirsch explained what sort of treatment she had planned. There was a medical device called a megascope that allowed her to view my skin at 400 times magnification. At magnification levels that high, she’d be able to see any microscopic organisms living on my skin and determine if they were going to engage in behavior that would be harmful. And if they were up to no good, there were ways that she could neutralize them.

“Now, get up on the examination table, and we’ll get started,” she said, and I climbed up onto the table while two fully dressed women watched me.

“According to your file, your flare-ups usually occur on your buttocks and the backs of your thighs,” Doctor Hirsch commented. Then she added, “Flip over and we’ll start your examination there.”

Showing my ass was humiliating, however, I had to concede it was medically necessary for Doctor Hirsch to examine every inch of my naked skin if she was going to determine which parts of my skin (if any) were in danger of a flare up in the near future.

Doctor Hirsch held her megascope up close to my ass and examined my skin through the lens of her high tech device. She clicked it on, and it made an intense humming sound as she examined me. The way the doctor was examining my so intensely made me feel more naked than naked. And of course, the nurse was standing just a few inches from the doctor, getting a good view of my naked body as well.

“Nurse Price, there’s a massing of cutis inimicus here, here and here,” she said as she brushed a fingertip across my right buttock three times, marking a horizontal line each time. Then she brushed her fingertip across the back of my right thigh and said that the little, microscopic pests were massing there as well.

Then, I felt my face flush hot with feelings of humiliation as Doctor Hirsch said, “Lauren, spread your legs apart and raise your hips up off the table. I need to examine your inner thighs and your perineum.”

I assumed the shaming position the doctor demanded. With my hips raised and my legs open, it meant that my anus and my bald pubes were clearly in view, indecently pink and exposed, blatantly revealing to both Doctor Hirsch and Nurse Price, the swollen and moist state of my pubic lips.

I felt the doctor’s finger gently trace a line across the sensitive flesh of one of my inner thighs and then several more lines across my perineum. My breathing became labored, and I felt shamefully aroused as the doctor’s fingers came within a fraction of an inch of touching my labia. I felt exposed, vulnerable and more naked than I had ever felt before in my life.

Then, just as I felt I couldn’t feel any more mortified and naked, Doctor Hirsch said, “Nurse Prince, hold her buttocks apart for me. I need to examine her anus.”

There was an intense flash of mortification, fear and sexual excitement that surged violently through yalova escort my entire body as the doctor told her nurse that she wanted to examine my anus. Then I felt the nurse’s hands grab my buttocks and pull them apart, leaving my pink, delicate anus pornographically exposed to both women standing over me.

I was shamefully exposed, and I felt powerless as the two fully dressed women examined my anal opening and made me feel more naked than I’d ever felt in my entire life. There was a frightful feeling of helplessness as the megascope hummed and the delicate, pink flesh of my anus was examined with an intensity that made me feel as if any dignity I might ever have possessed in the past was being stolen away from me forever.

I tried and failed to suppress a groan. I was naked and being examined in a way that made me feel objectified. To make matters worse, my whole body was pulsing with sexual excitement. The experience of being, naked, exposed and examined like a slave on the auction block was rousing my libido in an unprecedented manner. I had never felt feelings this intense before. My whole body was feverish with sexual heat and my heart was pounding in my chest as if it could burst through my ribcage.

“There’s a dense infestation here,” Doctor Hirsch said as her fingertip gently touched my exposed asshole, “This whole area.”

Then she took her finger away and said, “Lauren, have you ever had a flare up there before?”

I struggled to get my vocal cords to work. My throat felt thick, and I could feel my pulse pounding in my throat. I swallowed hard and weakly replied, “No, Doctor.”

“It’s good that you came in today,” Doctor Hirsch assured me, “That’s an extremely sensitive area. A flare up there would have been very painful and unpleasant.”

I whimpered and shifted my weight, pressing it into the padded surface of the exam table and using one of my arms to help cover my eyes.

Of course, the rest of my body had to be examined. My thighs, my calves, my ankles, my heels, the soles of my feet, etc. For a while, the examination became less demoralizing, and I began to feel more like a human being and less like a naked sex object.

However, at a certain point I was ordered to flip over so the doctor could examine the front of my body. My nipples were embarrassingly hard and erect, a fact that neither Doctor Hirsch nor Nurse Price could fail to notice. Mercifully, they were both too polite to comment on the blatantly roused state of my nipples.

I was filled with a sense of dread, knowing that at some point she’d have to examine the swollen pink folds between my legs. She seemed to save that part of my exam for last. The suspense was emotionally taxing and my whole body was tense with the anxiety and apprehension of knowing my inevitable, humiliating fate was coming.

“Lauren spread your legs please,” Doctor Hirsch said in that polite, yet authoritative tone she had. Then she added, “Wider than that. And lift your hips up off the table.”

With my legs spread pornographically wide and my shaved loins blatantly on display for Doctor Hirsch to examine, I felt an intense wave of submissiveness wash over me. Unexpectedly I felt myself entangled in the idea that I should be naked and exposed and objectified. It was like, I reached a point where instead of rebelling at the idea of being treated like a naked plaything, my mind latched onto the idea that I should be treated like a naked plaything. I can’t explain why it happened, but my emotions went dramatically sideways, and without thinking, I thrust my crotch up higher as if I were offering up my vagina to her as a sacrifice.

It seemed somehow inescapable that the densest cluster of cutis inimicus would be on my pubic lips. Doctor Hirsch said it was the most impressive mob of the skin parasites she’d ever seen on any of her patients.

With my pink slit indecently exposed, the doctor looked up from her megascope, briefly made eye contact with me and explained, “When they cluster together in dense groups like this, it indicates they’re getting ready to do horrendous things to your skin. If you hadn’t come in and gotten examined today, you’d have had a nasty flare-up either tomorrow or the next day.”

There was a humming from her megascope as she closely examined my swollen pubic lips once again and then she added, “And you’d be especially sore, as this time they’re clustered on mucous membranes like your clitoris, clitoral hood and labia minora. Those areas are much more sensitive and once they begin to damage the tissues there, the pain would be much more intense and take longer to heal.”

I closed my eyes, nodded my head as if in some sort of agreement with what she said and replied, “Thank you, Doctor.”

Once she had mapped out the locations of all the trouble spots on my body, she opened a drawer and produced a tube of something she called dormienti gel.

“This will stop the flare ups before çorlu escort they start,” she explained. She began to unscrew the cap, but then the door to the examination room opened and we were interrupted.

The woman who had burst in was young, my age or slightly older. She wasn’t dressed like a doctor. I was guessing she was a member of the office staff. Her eyes briefly focused on me, and my feelings of helplessness and vulnerability increased a thousandfold. There I was naked with my legs spread obscenely far apart and my pink, swollen pubic lips were shamelessly on display and glistening with moisture.

My own feelings of submissiveness kept me from using my hands to cover up my nudity. I had gone too deeply into the masochistic fantasy mode, and I simply embraced my feelings of mortification and shame as if that were my due.

I wanted to be stripped of my clothes and my dignity and examined like a piece of meat. I wanted clothed women to rape me with their probing, relentless gazes. My pulse raced, my breathing quickened, and my pussy throbbed. I experienced a rollercoaster of emotions as my smooth, naked body was laid out wide open and exposed and total strangers who got to stare and examine every inch of me.

“Doctor Hirsch,” the young woman exclaimed, “I have Kim Tilden on the phone. She insists on speaking with you immediately!”

“Dammit, Bernice,” Doctor Hirsch exclaimed, “I’m with a patient! She’s just going to have to wait!”

“I already told her that,” Bernice insisted, “she says he can’t wait. She says it’s an emergency.”

Doctor Hirsch glared and muttered something under her breath. Then she turned to the nurse and said, “Nurse Price, can you finish up here?”

The nurse nodded and assured the doctor she’d be able to finish up with me. Then Doctor Hirsch stormed out of the room, leaving me alone with Nurse Price.

Once I was alone in the room with Nurse Price, it seemed to me that the room thrummed with sexual energy. Nurse Price seemed taller, more intimidating and more beautiful than before.

“Okay, Lauren,” she said, “I’m going to start with your hindquarters, so I need you to turn over and get on your hands and knees just like before.”

Maybe it was my imagination, but it seemed to me that her voice had become firmer. I turned over and assumed the shaming position with my head down, my ass up and my legs pornographically far apart. I felt deliciously submissive, exposed and objectified and felt a soft, wet throbbing in my sex as I imagined what we looked like: One fully clothed, authoritative woman standing over a naked female with her hairless anus and glistening, moist pubic lips shockingly on display. The way I envisioned it, it was a very erotic scene of dominance and submission. I was a naked plaything, leaving myself vulnerable to be abused and objectified.

I trembled slightly when Nurse Price rubbed the cold gel across my naked ass and the back of my thigh. Then she stopped and said, “Sorry. I know it’s unpleasant, but it’ll be over soon.”

The submissive part of me didn’t want this erotic moment to end, and I almost surprised myself when I heard my own small voice say, “That’s okay. Take all the time you need. Rub it in thoroughly. I don’t want you to miss any spots.”

I don’t know if the nurse realized I was deeply immersed in a submissive sexual fantasy at this point, but her ministrations slowed dramatically after that, as if she realized I wanted to savor this delicious experience and she decided that she was willing to help. I gasped when I felt the coldness of the gel against my anus, but kept my legs spread wide. I closed my eyes and drifted into a fantasy where I was a naked slave and Nurse Price was a prospective buyer who was examining me before determining if she should purchase me.

I embraced delicious feelings of helplessness as my anus was touched. The fully dressed nurse spread the moisture, working it thoroughly into the furrow between my buttocks and then she spent an inordinate amount of time rubbing it into my anus itself as I bit my lower lip and tried not to moan. The fingertips were gentle on my asshole at first, but they became bolder and more forceful as she rubbed the gel into my delicate, pink flesh and made me wish she would spear my asshole with her fingers and thrust her way deep inside of me.

I reveled in my submissive feelings as one of the most intimate and delicate parts of my anatomy were examined and touched, but then Nurse Price informed me that she wanted me to turn over so she could apply her medicinal get to my pubic lips.

Sitting on my ass, I spread my legs wide and gave the nurse an unrestricted view of my tumescent pubic lips. I felt the strain in my inner-thigh muscles as I was very nearly doing a dancer’s split. I wanted to expose myself like a slave on the auction block, showing off the most private parts of her female anatomy to bidders in the crowd.

I felt tingly and deliciously alive as I held my naked body wide open for Nurse Price. I watched with rapt interest as she squeezed another glob of medicinal gel onto her fingertips and then I held my breath as she reached between my legs and rubbed the gel into the smooth flesh between my anus and vagina.

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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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Kay comes around finding herself still dressed as she was and still cuffed and collared as she was, but starting to be aware that she is no longer in the Perspex display box at the club. She is bent over with her legs wide apart and her wrists stretched up and out, with her head held by the jewelled collar and leash to the bar in front of her. Her entire body encased in the glistening pewter latex catsuit and hood she had been wearing and her legs encased in the skin tight thigh high black latex thigh boots with 7.5″ heels.

As Kay comes round, she becomes aware of someone siting in a chair across the room.

“So, you are awake.” Sue says smiling as she comes across and kisses Kay deeply, her tongue darting in exploring her mouth. Sue lifts Kay’s chin slightly with her fingers, so their eyes meet.

“You are probably a bit confused my love.” Kay is still trying to focus her mind, what was going on.

“You enjoyed doing that modelling at the club didn’t you, it really turned you on showing yourself off like that.” Sue’s hand sliding between Kay’s legs stroking the zip of the latex catsuit tightly encasing her pussy. Kay inwardly moans with desire as she can feel her body respond immediately to Sue’s delicate touch, knowing she is sopping and enjoying Sue’s fingers applying that little bit of pressure to spread her labia open.

“Yes darling, I know just how much you have fallen for me haven’t you?” teases Sue. The sensations flooding Kay’s mind keeping her so distracted.

“From our first encounter at the auction competition to our later sessions when you were having those pictures taken, you got really hot for me didn’t you?”

“Do you remember that first time when I was preparing you?” Kay’s recalls it so vividly being the first time another woman had come onto her, and how despite her perceptions she couldn’t help herself respond.

“I so know you do; that first time I started to polish your latex outfit with the lube, I could feel how you responded when my hands caressed your breasts, and then when I reached down and urfa escort pulled your G-string out from your pussy and my fingers slide over your wet pussy rubbing more lube into you.” She chuckles “You didn’t know what to do did you, you a straight woman suddenly finding another woman turning you on so easily.” Kay knows this was so true, that the arousal she felt soon overwhelmed any resistance.

Sue giggles “and then later when I licked your pussy, your legs went so wobbly didn’t they you had to grab onto the chaise longue to stop yourself giving way immediately.”

Sue watches Kay’s face reveal that she recalls it so vividly.

“Mmmh, you climaxed so quickly! You’d never experienced sex like it had you!”

“I could tell, and I knew you wanted more.” Oh god she was so right, it almost overwhelming her the extent of arousal and climax.

Sue kisses Kays lips, her tongue pushing in, whilst her hands play with Kay’s breasts, keeping her so aroused. Her mind filled with pleasurable sensations but still trying to work out why she is still chained up and what it is Sue is telling her.

“You know I had wicked fun playing with you on that stage when you were chained to that podium, and afterwards when I finger fucked you, god you were the wettest horniest minx I have ever come across. You really shouldn’t have been enjoying that, but fuck you were, you were so horny I thought you must have been a nun or something before!”

Sue continues “I really enjoyed that bit where I came on stage in my little red latex outfit with my riding crop, you were so submissive and involved and you let me clip the leash to your collar and then put you in that cage and play with you. After that you were so turned on you really didn’t have a clue what was really going on, did you, especially when you thought you had just passed out.”

Kay remembers it so clearly especially when Sue put that butt plug up her arse, oh god that was so kinky.

“That’s right darling you didn’t just pass out, that plug was coated in a drug. sivas escort You thought everything right from the start was all happening by chance didn’t you. Would it surprise you to know that right from the moment John spotted you at that club and chatted you up, and then later his supposedly innocent suggestion of coming to the charity event, was all part of a plan.”

Kay’s mind trying to process what she has just been told.

“Now this is going to shock you but the Charity Slave auction was actually all a front.”

Kay is so confused by what Sue is telling her, what does she mean, how does she know about John meeting her; what plan? what was it a front for? Questions racing through her mind now, but fogged by the arousal she feels as Sue continues to touch and play with her. Each time her mind is overtaken by erotic desire for Sue, as she tries to piece things together, which should otherwise be obvious but obscured by her desire and arousal.

“I can see from your face you are confused darling, well let me enlighten you; but don’t get cross as I have something else to reveal to you at the end.”

“You see John is actually a scout for an international organisation which, well I guess you can say tries to match supply to customer demand, a bit like a dating agency, just in this case one party does not know they have been matched!”

“So, when he spotted you at the club straight away you were of interest because he knew there was demand for your particular attributes.”

“Once let’s say he had done some due diligence checks it was determined you should be taken to the next stage of the selection process, and hence the invite to the Charity event. The clever part of the event is that for most guests it was exactly as it was billed; a Charity event and they were totally unaware of the aim.”

“Obviously as the evening went on you were ticking more and more boxes in terms of your willingness to wear kinkier and kinkier outfits, and the way you took to latex and heels was a massive tick in the tekirdağ escort box for the potential clients. Of course, as it got to the final rounds of the charity sale all the genuine charity guests thought it had finished and had left, leaving just the selected slaves and potential buyers. You see not only was it a Charity slave auction it was a real slave auction!”

“What you need to know Kay is that I was like you at one time, and ultimately I was forced to co-operate with them and help by using my company which they funded, to act as a front for the whole operation.”

“What I hadn’t anticipated was the effect on me when the two of us started to play and actually how much I enjoyed you. But you see I had no real choice but to follow through especially as the night went on and there was more and more interest in you, and your value, that they were expecting to ultimately sell you for was going up and up on the electronic market place.”

Kay is totally shocked by what Sue is revealing to her and her mind is trying to cope with all the implications of her situation. Her face is one of horror as the full circumstances are revealed and her position becomes self-evident. Her shock is so profound she barely reacts, not knowing what to do and feeling completely powerless, embarrassed, and humiliated. And it only gets worse.

“So, when you thought you had passed out at the party, you hadn’t, you had been drugged and then shipped to here where the organisation operates its slave market and that is where you were tonight. The photoshoot at the club was a cover to display the slaves to the bidders in the club and when you were in the box what you could not see or know was that you were actually being auctioned to the highest bidder as their slave.”

Kay’s eyes are fixed on Sue.

“You were almost sold to that man who gave you Champagne in the club, but darling I couldn’t let you be sold to anyone else because I have fallen in love with you, so I put all my money from the company on the line and bought you myself.”

“I don’t know if you will still love me, but technically I now own you, but I am going to let you to make your own choice. Please forgive me because I love you.”

Sue looks into Kay’s eyes and kisses her, the kiss almost breaks, before Kay starts to kiss back as she just can’t help herself.

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Girl Talk 6: Alison

Copyright: The Confession Club 4/12/09

This series is based on interviews I did quite a few years back with women who had modelled for me, or were private clients when I worked as a photographer. Their words have been, ‘edited’ but only to remove features of continuous speech such as, ‘um, ah, eh,’ and repetitions of partial phrases which is common in everyday speech.

The Confession Club: The story Alison gave me is a little more unusual, because it portrays a woman as a voyeur. It’s generally accepted that men are more receptive to visual stimulation, but Alison proves that women can find this exciting too. A twenty-eight-year-old brunette, with a lovely slim figure, she also has an exhibitionist side to her nature.

CC: Alison, as you know, I’m collecting stories from as many of my models and private clients as I can. You’ve got a great story to share with us, don’t you?

Alison: You mean, ‘What I did on my holidays?’ (laughs)

CC: Exactly – that’s the one.

Alison: OK, but I think we need a little background to make sense of it, don’t you?

CC: Just start from wherever you think is relevant.

Alison: Ok. This story is about my best friend Kerry and myself, so let’s go back a few years. I met Kerry on my first day at school. We became best friends and were virtually inseparable all through our school years. We did everything together, and usually slept-over at each other’s houses just about every weekend.

When we finally started going out with boys, we would tell each other everything, and I mean everything. We even had a rating system, which gave us a lot of laughs. When Kerry met her husband, I knew it was something special, because after the first two or three dates she was reluctant to talk about him. A year or so later, I was bridesmaid at her wedding – I was so happy for her. He was a really good man, and she was madly in love with him.

We still saw each other a lot, because he worked in the oil industry, and was often away from home for two or three weeks at a time. One night I went to see her, and she told me he had been promoted, and was being re-located to the main office in Houston, Texas. They’d be there for a minimum of two years. We hugged each other and cried, I was devastated at the news, and I eventually went home feeling miserable.

About two months after they moved, she called and invited me over for a few weeks. I had some holiday time due, and within a month I was flying into the USA. Kerry met me at the airport and drove me to her beautiful home, which really was fabulous – swimming pool, the lot. Her husband wasn’t home, as he had been called away that morning, but we had plenty to catch up on, and didn’t miss him at all. We had dinner beside the pool and drank white wine until it began to get dark. Kerry insisted I get to bed and catch up on my sleep to avoid jet-lag.

I woke early next morning rize escort with the sun streaming through my bedroom window, and Kerry standing beside the bed with a huge glass of fresh orange juice. She got in beside me as I drank it, like a million times before, and told me some of the sights, and tourist places she intended to show me later. It was just like old times, very ‘girly’ and innocent, although it hadn’t always been like that. I knew every erogenous bit of skin on her body and she mine. Either one of us could turn the other to a moaning piece of ‘jelly’ with just a few touches. When Kerry touched me a few moments later, I threw back the bedcovers and pulled my nightdress off, so she could do what she wanted. As I opened my legs wide, I reminded her in a mock warning voice that she was a married woman. She just laughed and buried her face in my pussy.

The next few days were a frantic round of visiting tourist sights, eating, drinking, shopping and making love. It was very nice having her all to myself for a few days; it was just what we needed, but we knew it couldn’t last, and sure enough, she got a call saying he would be home that evening. As we sat by the pool that afternoon, Kerry was very excited at the prospect of seeing him again. I suggested that I should make myself scarce after dinner and give them some privacy. She laughed and said they’d never make it as far as dinner, and he’d be ‘on’ her long before that. We both laughed at that, but I could see she was excited.

After a few moments she asked if I still had the same sexual fantasies as before, or had I worked my way through them all yet? She laughed when I said the funny thing about realising fantasies was that as soon as you’d worked through one, another one took its place. I could tell that she had something in mind, but just gave her plenty of time to get to the point. Eventually, she asked me if I’d fulfilled the ‘big’ one yet, and I admitted that I hadn’t. My big fantasy was to secretly watch another couple making love. Quite tame really, considering some of the things Kerry and I had gotten up to over the years, but the thought of seeing a couple screw each other mercilessly while I secretly watched, just got me wet and horny like nothing else could possibly do.

I could hardly believe it when she told me she’d been having almost the same fantasy and had been thinking about it for weeks before I arrived. When I asked her what she meant by ‘almost’ the same fantasy, she said she wanted to be the one being watched. We got so horny talking about it that we ended up naked on her bed, and although we both had a couple of orgasms, it just seemed to make us hornier still. We showered together, making sure all our erogenous zones were well soaped, which led to more orgasms still, then got dressed in our prettiest lingerie, and made our plans.

Like all the best plans it was simple. Kerry has a large sakarya escort walk-in closet in her bedroom, (very American) almost like a small room in itself. Just before he came home, I would conceal myself in the closet with the sliding doors a couple of inches apart. From there, I would be able to see everything, but in the darkness of the closet I would be invisible. We placed a chair inside the closet for me to sit on, and we were ready. As it turned out, we didn’t have long to wait. We heard a car in the driveway and we both ran for the bedroom where I got into the closet, and Kerry checked to make sure I couldn’t be seen. She disappeared, and I could hear their voices, then silence for a few moments. My heartbeat was racing with excitement, and I could feel the wetness gather between my pussy lips, then dribble out.

Suddenly they were there in the room, and I could see them feverishly kissing, touching, and pulling at each other’s clothes. Within seconds they were both naked and Kerry was moaning with pleasure as he kissed her nipples and fingered her pussy at the same time. She broke away, and sitting down on the edge of the bed, stroked his cock with her right hand, whilst cupping his balls with her left. She leaned forward and took his hard prick in her mouth, and I thought it was impossible to get all of that thing in her mouth, but she managed just fine, looking so sexy and fuckable. I wanted her so badly at that moment.

Twisting her head slightly as she licked along its length, she looked directly at me in the closet, and winked as if to say, ‘enjoy the show darling.’ His hips began to move back and forth, and his prick, shiny with her saliva, slid in and out as he fucked her mouth. It was Kerry who broke contact and lay back on the bed, opening her legs wide for him. She said something I didn’t quite catch, but he got down between her legs and started licking and sucking her. Soon my lovely Kerry was grinding herself against his face and having a very loud and long orgasm

By this time my hands were inside my panties, two fingers of one hand buried to the knuckles in my hole and the middle finger of the other rubbing my clitoris. They were kissing and fondling again, but Kerry soon got up on her knees and begged him to fuck her ‘doggy style.’ He positioned himself behind her, and Kerry reached through between her legs with one hand and guided his cock into her open lips. It sank into her with a wet slurping sound, and she whimpered with delight. At every thrust she got louder, and her big tits wobbled in time with the movements. I longed to kiss her lips and nipples. She became quite frantic, and urged him to fuck her, ‘harder and faster’ which he did, and again she rewarded his efforts with a loud and furious orgasm. As she finished, she fell forward on the bed, leaving him standing there, his cock, big with excitement, and shining with her juices.

She samsun escort turned to kiss him again, telling him how much she loved him and his cock, but now it was his turn. She made him lie down on the bed with his feet towards the closet, then climbed on top, straddling his body. She again guided his cock into her pussy, and it sank into her depths, then slowly out again as she moved sensuously to give him as much pleasure as possible. It was a beautiful sight, her gorgeous arse, and the tight pink cunt below with her lips stretched wide by his stiffness. She pumped up and down, occasionally stopping to keep him on the edge, then started again with the same unhurried rhythm.

I knew from our past ‘indiscretions’ that her pussy lubricated itself generously, but with each stroke her juices smeared and ran down his cock onto his balls. I longed to suck it up. Then she did something that was purely for my benefit. She turned around, still on top of him, but facing me this time, and continued her slow pumping motion. She looked at me in the closet and mouthed, ‘I love you’ holding up her big tits and squeezing her nipples. I almost came at that point but managed to regain control.

It wasn’t easy, especially when she put a hand down and started to rub her clitoris, all the time looking at me. I could see as well as hear that she was fast approaching climax again, but my darling Kerry had one last trick up her sleeve for me. She let his cock slip out of her, and quickly moved back down his body so that her pussy was right over his face, and his cock was in front of her mouth. They sucked each other in a gloriously sensual ‘sixty-nine.’ I could see her licking and sucking his cock, while her hand pumped him expertly, and I knew he couldn’t hold out against that for long. She let me see his first big squirt, then greedily smothered his knob with her mouth, stroking and sucking for his maximum pleasure. All this time she was moaning with her own pleasure as another orgasm wracked her body.

When he went to the bathroom, I managed to get out, and back to my own room, where I rubbed myself, bringing on a shattering orgasm within about thirty seconds. We couldn’t do anything about it then, but next day when he went to work, we lay in bed for hours talking about it.

CC: Just talking?

Alison: Well… not just talking about it. We made love umpteen times that day; we were so excited. Just couldn’t get enough sex to calm us down.

CC: Did anything else happen on the holiday?

Alison: No! Why are you asking?

CC: Because I’ve gotten to know you, and I just wonder if you took it a step further?

Alison: Honestly – you have a right dirty mind – what do you mean by a step further?

CC: Well, you said that you and Kerry shared everything. I just wondered…

Alison: What? That Kerry and I had a threesome with her husband? Never!

CC: You lying little tart – I can see it in your face – you did.

Alison: No, no, not me. (laughing)

CC: C’mon. Tell the truth – I know you did.

Alison: Mmm… maybe, but not today – soon, I promise.

CC: I knew it! Thanks for your story Alison – it was great, very interesting.

* * *

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Since we were just mingling, I took the opportunity to actually talk with Angelo, beyond just small talk. I talked about music, and he knew most of my favorite artists and songs. Movies, he knew almost every movie I love, including some of the real chick ones. Books, he knew at least half of the classics that I love. He even knew what it’s like to live with a cat. To get outside the areas he knew about, I had to veer all the way into talking about Guerlain, Dior, Sisley, and La Mer.

Once I got onto topics where he knew precious little, do you know what he did? He asked questions. And listened to the answers. Like, as if he was interested! As if he was learning. He didn’t pretend to know. He didn’t change the subject to something he knew more about. He didn’t try to form and push his own opinion about it. He just took an interest, and encourage me to tell him more.

If this was supposed to be “the boyfriend experience”, it wasn’t like any boyfriend I’d ever known.

Presently, Miss Havisham announced that the show would be ready in just a few minutes. This gave everyone (ok, it gave us girls…) time to visit the bathroom and freshen up. Then we all filed into an adjoining room, and once again, as had happened a number of times in this extraordinary building, I was stunned at what I found in the next room. A complete, if small, professional theatre.

The theatre would easily have sat something like 150 people, I guessed. It was a well appointed, professional theatre space, with plush seats in neat rows, which were even numbered and everything! The stage was a modest size, with a heavy red velvet curtain sporting golden tassels promising a hidden world of make-believe.

We all found seats, Angelo and I sat together, of course, and I chose the row behind Miss Havisham and Miss Buchanan, who sat right up front. Miss Buchanan had Rhett on one side and Miss Havisham on the other. Next to Rhett was Darcy, and finally Josie. The empty seats all arrayed behind our tiny group and were easily forgotten.

The house lights dimmed, a hush fell. A sultry woman’s voice began the introduction from somewhere offstage, “Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to this special, one-night-only command performance of our own interpretation of…”

It clicked. This was Crystal’s voice! But she was in show mode, and her voice sounded so different. So deep, sensual, and sexy!

“BURLESQUE!”, Crystal reached her crescendo. The follow spot sprang to life, aimed at the center of the curtains, and the velvet blankets began rapidly to open. There, revealed dramatically by the receding curtains and stark light of the spot, was a resplendent Crystal, in her red corset outfit with the little tease tassels, a sparkling tiara, eye-wateringly high heels, fishnet stockings all the way up to the high cut of her outfit. Her arms were thrown wide open above her head, one knee was forward, her skin was glistening with glitter. She was a showgirl, and she was shining like a beacon!

The spot opened out as the stage lights came up to reveal the other five girls behind, all in g-string, corset, one-piece, silver-sequined leo’s with, top hats and waist coat tails. They all wore the same punishingly high heels and fishnets. They were a scene of superlative glamour and glitz.

I cheered, along with the others, and we made much more clamor than such a small audience might be expected to make. We were wolf-whistling and calling out the girls’ names, and shouting encouragements. I listened to Angelo, and the other guys, and they were all joining in, but there was no yucky stuff that men, all too often, get to in these situations. You know what I mean, the “Show’s ya tits” nonsense. There was none of that. They were swept up in the fun of it, and were celebrating the girls along with the rest of us.

The music started up, with the bawdy bass drum driving the girls through their routine as they flirted and flounced, strutted and seduced, five nymphs in silver sequins, and then Crystal, bedazzling in her red costume and glittering tiara as the center piece. They hit all the classics, from high kicks, to the line-up leaning on one-another’s backs tapping a foot, a smack here, a peek under the tails there, suggestively cupping each other’s breasts, a scandalized gasp, a naughty little quick run about the stage in those perilous heels, and all punctuated by the big bass boom and a prominent waa waa trumpet.

In the audience we were laughing, cheering, whistling, and clapping all the way through. When the music reached it’s conclusion, the girls finally arranged around Crystal looking like a magnificent blooming flower, with long, sexy legs as the petals, and Crystal’s enticing body as the stamen, we were on our feet.

And that was just the first number! There were several more, including a classic cancan. Well, not quite classic. The classic would have featured lacy bloomers, but in this case the girls kütahya escort were showing off their g-strings, so their legs went forever, up under those full skirts when they did the high kicks. Did I wish I was up there? Maybe. Don’t judge me.

There was a brief interlude between the acts so that the girls could get changed. I was stunned at how quickly they managed to go from costume to costume. It must have been super chaotic backstage! But it gave me a chance to take in the landscape a little. We all excitedly remarked to each other how wonderful each dance was, and I was interested in how each person was reacting, so I was scanning over everyone’s minds.

The boys, impeccable as always, gave a strong hint of arousal (they’re only human), but overlaid with a real desire to enjoy and celebrate the talent of the dancers and the spectacle of the show. Miss Havisham was unreadable. Miss Buchanan was just getting more and more sexually energized, as if she needed any encouragement at all! But Josie was kind of interesting. Her mind felt more like how I might have expected the guys to feel – mostly lustful, erotically charged, and only a veneer of socially acceptable celebration of the culture, the art, the skill, and the showmanship. Very interesting…

The piece de resistance was the finale.

When the curtain opened on Crystal, it wasn’t clear if she was wearing anything at all, standing alone in the centre of the stage. She held two arrays of large feathers, which she was holding strategically to conceal her body. She stood there in silence for several long seconds to allow the audience to appreciate that she may well be quite naked behind the feathers.

I gasped. I had not expected to be treated to a feather dance!

In silence, she started walking furtively around the stage, as if looking for some unspecified danger. She had bare feet, enhancing the expectation that perhaps she might not be wearing anything at all.

As she walked, she shifted the feathers. She moved them to be covering her chest from the left, and her loins from the right, with her midriff visible in between. She suddenly turned to the side, deftly flicking the feathers one in front and one behind her, but making it plainly clear from the side that she had no clothes at all behind them, her unbroken nakedness visible from her ankles all the way to her slender neck.

She crouched to the floor, her knees to her chest, side-on to the audience, and placed both sets of feathers down in front of her, clearly, by now, fully naked, but not actually showing any intimate parts of her body to the audience. It was a spectacular tease, and we all gasped and applauded at each new risque pose.

Josie, meanwhile, was starting to build quite the head of steam. You wouldn’t know from looking at her, though. She clapped politely at the appropriate times, but inside she was seething with desire.

Suddenly, a person-sized, ridiculous looking bird burst onto the stage. It was one of the girls in a costume like a sporting team mascot, and it was supposed to be some large black bird of prey. At that moment, a male voice sang out, “Oooooooooooooooohh”, and Crystal picked up the feathers in a flurry, again managing to cover herself, but only just, as she stood up and acted fearful of the large bird, its wings extended as though it were the one singing.

“Allouette, gentille allouette,” the bird began singing the well known French folk song, and we all clapped and laughed, delighted. Crystal fluttered her feathers in response to the song’s first line.

“Allouette, je te plumerai,” the bird continued, and she shrank within a cocoon of feathers, as though intimidated.

The lyrics are referring to a lark, an “allouette”. The first two lines are, “Lark, lovely lark, Lark, I will pluck your feathers.”

“Je te plumerai le tete, je te plumerai le tete” the bird continued (I will pluck the feathers from your head). Crystal held one array of feathers in front of her body carefully to conceal her intimate parts, and raised the other array up her back until the feathers were visible above her head, and managed to convey fear and fragility. Suddenly, one of the feathers behind her lifted up and separated from the bunch, and floated toward the black bird! With some adjustment of my eyes, I could see that one of the girls was wearing a complete black-out cat suit to make her invisible against the black background. She was carrying the feather across the stage, behind the black bird and off to stage left.

“Et la tete, et la tete” (and the head, and the head)

“Allouette, allouette”

“Oooooooooooooooohh,”

“Allouette, gentille allouette, allouette, je te plumerai”, the song continued.

Crystal now had one complete array of large, 2 foot-long feathers, and one with a missing feather, right in the middle. She danced as the music went on, skillfully manisa escort concealing herself, but now with a tantalizing gap in her cover!

“Je te plumerai les ailes, je te plumerai les ailes,” The song continued (I will pluck the feathers from your wings). Crystal turned side-on to the audience, and held the feathers up on each side vertically from her hips, which were then visible, naughtily showing the side of her bottom cheek, the feathers spreading out upwards, front and back, providing cover for her breasts and giving the appearance of wings. She half crouched as though perching, which had the effect of pushing her naked bottom prominently behind her, but in the audience all we could see was the side view of it, long legs, sensually bending and leading all the way to her clearly naked hip, before the small of her back disappeared behind the feather ‘wings’. Again, an invisible hand plucked a feather and carried it prominently off the stage behind the silly looking black bird.

“Et les ailes, et les ailes,”

“Et la tete, et la tete,”

“Allouette, allouette,”

“Oooooooooooooooohh,”

“Allouette, gentille allouette, allouette, je te plumerai”

The folk song goes on in much this vein, adding a body part in each verse. The girls had adapted the song to suit the dance, using wings instead of beak, for example, presumably because arranging a beak feather might be more difficult (is there ever such a thing anyway?). They made other slight adjustments as well, but overall, the pattern of the song provided the format for an ever diminishing set of coverings for Crystal to employ in ever more frantic protection of her most delicate areas.

At the end of each verse, the song repeats each of the body parts already plucked, building that list each time. For each of the body parts, Crystal had to assume the same pose she had used when being plucked the first time. The rapid shift through all those poses became a dangerous game of peek-a-boo, with her eviscerated crop of feathers having rapidly to adjust to each pose, every more possibly failing, and exposing her nakedness to the glaring spotlight and the audience. Heck yes, I wanted to be her right now!

As the song progressed, I found I was literally on the edge of my seat, gasping and then laughing in relief each time she succeeded, not sure at each turn how she would be able to continue the tease and protect her dignity. I was continually amazed at her skill and dexterity, and her seductive wit, by which she extended that tease further and further until she was left with a single feather in each hand. Each feather had a significant plume, and one feather was sufficient, barely, to lay across her loins, and another across her breasts, to conceal only the very most sought-after, most intimate points. The remainder of her body was laid bare for the audience to feast on, richly eating but never satisfied despite such a vast, rich meal, while that tiny vestige of modesty remained untasted by their hungry eyes.

Her maneuvers through the list of poses in the final verse were flawless, but only, I started to realize, because the human eye can’t keep up with the swirling feathers over the smooth curves of her body as she snaps from one pose to the next, pauses there for that line of the song, then snaps to the next. She would shift the feathers as she changed posture, and in fact, it seemed certain she was actually exposed for the briefest moment, but it was impossible to catch that moment as the watcher without a freeze-frame video. It was tantalizing and delightfully frustrating.

At the end of the last verse the song began to slow as it reached the end of the list of poses, giving Crystal extra time to quiver in mock fear, adjust, come agonizingly close to revealing herself but at the last moment recover, all while the large black bird moved around behind her as she struggled, with just two feathers, to remain covered. The threat loomed as the bird took up a menacing posture behind her, while she fought with the fluffy, dainty little feathers to keep herself protected.

The song reached its conclusion with a final, “Je te plumerai”, at which moment both of Crystal’s hands flew to her face as though she were gasping in shock, the two final feathers sticking out vainly from each side of her face, but at the same moment, or just a quarter of a beat later, long enough to register the emergency that she may now be fully exposed, but not quite long enough to focus the eyes on the uncovered parts, the bird’s large, unwieldy black wings suddenly wrapped around her naked midriff to cover her, if barely, down to the tops of her long legs, forming a short (very short) miniskirt of sorts. It took half a second to realize that her elbows, because her arms were folded to bring her hands to her face, also hid her breasts, and once again she had won the game and the audience had missed out on mardin escort that tastiest of morsels.

I couldn’t believe she had done it. She had kept her nakedness covered this whole time, though the feathers-meets-seven-veils ordeal, and culminating in a literally breathtaking last-moment daredevil stunt that made my heart leap in anticipation. I mean, I literally found I was holding my breath for the last verse, so cleverly had she maintained the tension, and the crisis of maintaining her cover.

They stood there for several seconds, the victorious bird embracing the now completely naked Crystal, who wore a look of scandalized incredulity, of defeat and submission, of the inevitability of the captive, dependent as she was on the birds wings to cover her.

Then the lights dropped to almost black and the curtain started to close, but in the dim half light, even as they eyes were trying desperately to adjust to the darkness from the sharp, bright spotlight that had been searching every millimeter of Crystal’s form to expose, if it were possible, any humiliating breach in her deft management of those feathers, one could see that Crystal broke away from the bird to run fully nude across the stage to escape, her hands outstretched, completely unprotected, but frustratingly under a cover of just enough darkness that she couldn’t be clearly seen by human eyes which took time to adjust to sudden changes in levels of light. Only then did the lights drop fully down to black, and the curtains completed their closure.

And we all went berserk!

We hollered and screamed, shouted and whistled. It was spontaneous. I had never seen a show so engaging and tantalizing. I had never felt so much from a dance, so viscerally drawn to the exhibitionist crisis of the fragile little allouette, as she is mercilessly plucked of her feathers under the glare of a watching audience, a plaything, progressively stripped until finally completely dependent on her tormentor.

After perhaps a minute, our applause turned into calls for more, and an encore! We shouted and screamed for probably another full minute, before the curtain opened once again, and there were the four chorus girls. We screamed for them. They bowed to us, then turned all the way around and bowed low facing away from us, and lifted their coat tails, giving us a cheeky view of their fishnetted, bifurcated bottoms, before turning again towards us and bowing again. We screamed and shouted and applauded.

Then the bird swaggered onto stage. We screamed for the bird, clapping in delight as it threw all the plucked feathers into the air at once, and posed victorious over them.

We kept clapping, waiting. We kept calling her name until it was a chant, “Crystal, Crystal…”

Eventually, under the pressure of sustained chanting and screaming, the bird moved to the edge of the stage and turned towards the stage wings. When it turned back, Crystal was back in its clutches, in a repeat of the final position of the last number, it’s wings around Crystal’s midsection, barely providing the most skimpy of skirts, her breasts concealed only by her own arms, and she, otherwise, still completely naked. We were in a frenzy as they shuffled precariously to center stage.

Crystal used only a single arm to cover her breasts so that she could blow us a kiss with the other hand. It was the most outrageous tease. Then she waved vigorously, ensuring her breasts wobbled around conspicuously. We screamed for her. I so wanted to be her. It was delicious.

I checked in on Josie, and she wasn’t managing well. Her arousal was immobilizing her. She was being overpowered by it. But there was more. It was attraction, not just arousal. She was drawn, attracted, to Crystal. It was a crush. A deeply sexual crush. She was sinking into her own world of lustful daydreaming.

Crystal took a deep bow. The bird’s wings adjusted to reach forwards and shield from just below her chin, so that as she bent down horizontal the audience could not see her breasts when her arms extended out both sides. Only the wingtips reached all the way around her to provide a tiny little modesty shield from the front, so she was only barely, only just concealed within the fold of those wings, where she was very obviously naked. As she stood, she restored one arm as cover for her breasts, just as the wings moved down to cover her midsection again, and continued waving and blowing kisses to an apoplectic audience squealing, calling her name, and shouting.

Only after the bird finally delivered Crystal off stage, using only one wing on the audience side as the most fragile of covers for her, and waving the other in the air at the audience, did we start to calm down.

Once we had settled and the house lights came up, and we started moving back to the exists, I pulled Miss Havisham close and whispered, “Hey, I wonder… would you mind seating Josie next to Crystal at dinner?”

She shot a glance at me with a raised eyebrow. I made a faux innocent facial expression, and she chuckled. “Very well, my little mischief maker, have it your way. I do wonder what you’re up to, but sure. I can do that.”

Dinner was going to be fun.

Don’t judge me.

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