Today's 500 (really 2423)

You have to give me permission

To do what?

What ever it is you are about to ask me to do.

I don’t know what you are talking about.

Yes you do.  You are about to ask for a favor, I can feel it.

Why would I do that?

Because you husband is out of town and
you are wearing your yellow dress.

What does that have to do with anything?

You never wear panties under that dress.

How do you know that?

Because he told me.

He What?

He told me.  He tells me a lot of things.  He likes to brag.

About what?

About how hot you are, how good you are in bed

What else?

He tells me how much he misses you when you are gone.

Does he, you know…. While I’m gone?

Cheat on you?  No.

That’s not what I meant.

Be specific.

Does he, you know (imitates masturbation motions)

No, strangely enough, he doesn’t. That’s why
he’s always at the gym when you call him.

Maybe that’s why he’s losing weight. (Laughter)

Do you?

What?  I’m not going to tell.

Yes you are.  Do you masturbate while you are on the road?

Does my answer matter?

It does to me.

Why?

Because I like thinking about you doing it.

Doing what? (sarcastically)  Be Specific.

I like thinking about you masturbating, naked, spread, wet,
on a hotel bed, cumming, cumming again, and then,
spreading the slippery wet on your nipples as you play with them.

Oh. My

What’s wrong?  Didn’t you like my answer?

Why are you suddenly standing so close to me?

I didn’t move, you did.

No I didn’t, that would be inappropriate.

(Laughing) That is exactly what you are.

I don’t want to be.  I want to be a good girl.

Will you be “my” good girl?

I hate that phrase.

Why?

Because I’m not a girl.

What are you?

A woman.

What kind of woman?

A lonely woman.

Lonely?  I thought you two were pretty “active.”

Not enough

Be specific

You like that phrase, don’t you?

Yes. I like it when people use words.

What kind of words?

Accurate words. Honest words.

What do you want me to say?

You can say anything you want. I don’t direct anything.

Seriously?  That’s not what I’ve heard.

Heard? From who?

People

Which people.

Will you get mad at her?

No

Promise?

Promise. I put no restrictions on anyone. Including you. 
Feel free to share what you want with whomever you want.

Even him?

Him who?

Even my husband?

Is this something you want to share with him?

Kind of.

Does he know you are here?

No.

Why did you hide it from him? 
He’s my best friend.

That’s just it, isn’t it?  You are best friends,
you work together, what if this goes badly?

Will it?

Will you fuck off with all the questions? 
You really aren’t that deep, you know.

I don’t need to be deep, just honest,
open, and with full consent.

She told that consent is like a kink for you.

It is, in a way.  I like to hear my partners ask for things,
specific things.
I don’t want any misunderstandings,
accusations,
or bad feelings.

What if I feel bad afterward?

That is up to you, but it will never be because
I pressured you into anything.

Like what?

Ah, see, very tricky.  I’m not in the lead here. 
I am in charge, but not in the lead, do you understand?

I think so.

Nothing will happen that I don’t want to have happen,
but nothing will happen unless you ask for it. 
And see, now? You’ve taken another step closer. 
Shall I set your drink down?

Yes, thank you, it was delicious.  What was in it?

No alcohol, if you are asking. 
No intoxicant, no drugs,
just clear-headed
decision making.

I don’t think I’m thinking very clearly right now.

Then should we stop? Watch TV?
Discuss the Old Testament?

(Laughter)

No, but maybe some music.

Something slow?

Slow and sad or slow and sexy.

They are frequently both. True. How about this?

I like it, thanks.

You’ll have to take off your heels,
you are beautiful, but too tall for me.

You like it when I wear them.

How do you know?

You smile at me in church.

I smile at many people at church,
I’m happy to be there.

Especially since you have seen so many of us naked.

Horrible scandalous rumors. I say.
Sometimes I close my eyes.

Dance with me.

You smell wonderful, and yes,
I love you in your heels, but you fit so nicely
into my arms without them.

Hold me closer.

Tiny Dancer?

Yes, hold me tight. It feels nice

Yes, it does, doesn’t it?

Let’s just enjoy the music for a bit, eh?

That would be lovely….

 

Oh, I love this song.

So does my wife, they played it her sister’s wedding.

Can we not talk about her tonight?

My wife’s little sister?

(Laughter) No, your wife

Why not?

Am I betraying her?

No.

Does she know I’m here?

She knows I’m with a friend.  She never asks for names.

Does she mind?

No, we discussed it early on, her idea really,
caught me quite by surprise.

Do you two…?

Do we what?  You know the rules?

Do you and your wife have sex anymore?

On special occasions.

Like what?

The return of Halley’s Comet, the orbit of Pluto, those special days.

I’m sorry

Do not be. I have friends.

Like me?

Yes Dear, like you.

Spin me.

Like this?

(Laughter)

Well, I proved my assumption

Which one.

That you don’t wear panties under this dress.

No, I never do

Why not?

Because I don’t have to.

(Kiss)

That was lovely

(Kiss with a hint of tongue, teasingly bringing our mouths together)

Touch me

Where?

Do I have to tell you everything?

For now, yes.  Keeps us both safe.

Touch my ass.

You’ve been going to the gym?

Squeeze harder.

Wonderful

Both hands

Even better.

Spread me.

Ohhhh, I like that.

Me too….

 

Kiss me

(kiss)

Kiss me like you kiss Haley

(deeper kissing)

Do you fuck her?

Who?

Haley.

Does that matter/

Yes.

Why?

I want to know what she likes

Why?

You know.

Tell me

Because I want to fuck her too.

Really?  I assumed you already had.

Why?

Because of how she looks at you.

I know, it’s quite a rush.

Have you kissed her?

Not like this

(Hard, passionate kissing)

I don’t want tonight to be about her. 
Tonight is about you, us, right now, right here.

(I bite her neck)

Yesssss.

Whispering - What do you want?

Put your hands under my dress

Your skin is flawless

Spread me

Wider

Harder

Yessss, you are catching on.

Touch me

Catching herself

Touch me deep.

Like this?

Fuck yes… he never touches me there.

He never touches this tight

Gasp

Little

Gasp

Hole?

No, never, push hard, I want to feel it.

Inside?

Yes

Yes, please

How far?

                                                                     All the way

Like this?

              Yes, yes, yes, please. That feels so good.

Do you play with your ass when you are alone?

                                                             Yes, all the time.

Does he know?

                                                          He thinks it’s dirty

I do not.

                                            Kiss me while it’s inside?

(Her mouth opens and is ravenous. I press deeper inside her, feeling the tightness and warmth. She quivers and bites my tongue.)

                                                                            Oh fuck.

Do you like my finger in your ass?

                                                                  YES!  Deeper!

As you wish…

Knuckles deep, she begins to buckle and gasp for air.

Are you cumming?

                                                                        Yes!  May I

Then cum

Her body falls into my arms, and I hold her, still penetrating, thrusting, filling her up in a way her husband never would. 
Tragic really,
She’s perfect.

Oh, fuck fuck, that feels so good.

I’m glad you liked it.

Now, catch your breath, and follow me.

                                                                             Where?

Just Follow

On the far side of the room is a small bathroom with the appropriate supplies

                                                        What’s all this for?

Cleanliness is next to godliness and prevents all sorts of problems.

                                May I wash your hands for you?

Yes, that would be nice.

The warm water runs over our hands as she pumps soap into our palms and rubs them together.

    Will you remember this when we are done,

Or do you force yourself to forget

I dry my hands and cup her face.

I remember everything.

                                                                  I need to pee.

OK

                                           Can I have some privacy?

No.

                                             What do you mean, ‘No.’

Just that, no.  Here, I’ll lift the lid for you.

                   And you are just going to stand there?

No, I’m going to watch.

                                                                                  Why?

Because I like it.

She sits and lifts the yellow dress up over her hips.
I kneel in front of her.

Really?

Yes, Really. Breathe deeply, relax.

                                                                         I’m trying.

With gentle pressure, I spread her legs.

Interesting

                                                                                What?

I always imagined you waxed.

                                           He likes the landing strip.

Hmm

And what do you mean,
“I always imagined you waxed”?
Do you think about me?

Constantly

           Do you masturbate when you think of me?

Constantly

                                 What’s your favorite scenario?

You call me and ask if you can use my back yard
to “work on your tan, because you know I work
from home and my wife is in the office.

The flow starts, warm and yellow, I spread her knees further.

I promise you privacy but come to the kitchen sink
for a drink and you are laying out in your green bikini,
my favorite, you notice me, and ask for a drink.

Her flow continues and I see her breathing quicken.

I give you a drink, but it spills

Her flow stops.

I take 4 squares of toilet paper and pat her lips dry.

OH!

Thank you?

Good hygiene is essential

                                                    Then what happens?

That can wait.

I offer my hand, and she takes it and stands.

That was interesting

Good

                                             But I’m still a little damp

And?

                                                                           Wipe me

I reach for the toilet paper

She blocks my hand

With your fingers

Please say it

                                  Wipe my lips clean, touch me.

Yes.

Aahhh, you are so wet, so perfectly wet

                                                                             Taste it.

So sweet

                                                                                  Again

Not here

                                                                          Why not?

The couch is better

                                                             I said touch me.

She holds my wrist and guides me between her thighs.

Wipe it all up.

Front to back, back to front, I’m so wet.

You are amazing

                                                                  Penetrate me

Ask again

                                         Put your fingers inside me.

Again

                                                                           Fuck me!

My fingers slip inside without any resistance, her smooth walls envelope my fingers and I feel her clench around

Feed them to me.

I put my fingers in her mouth, and she tastes herself for the first time

Is this how Haley tastes?

This is how you taste, and it’s perfectly you.

She pulls away, smiling, placing her hands on my shoulders to create distance.

                                                                         Stay here.

Why?

                                                                           Because

Why?

                                                                          Trust me.

She leaves the bathroom

My cock strains against my slacks and I see a growing wet spot.

COME OUT!

She is standing in the middle of the room, naked, hands on hips.

Her breasts are more spectacular than imagined

Her landing strip groomed to perfection

A long thin glistening bead runs down her inner thigh.

Well?

I step toward her and kneed in front of her,
desperate to taste her fully.

No, stay up.

OK

She undresses me quickly but with practices hands

I want you to see me in the light,
undressed, naked, all yours, not hiding,
no excuses, no justifications,
just two beautiful people naked and together.

You are beautiful

                                                                      Look at me.

I am

                                                    Tell me what you see

I see my friend, naked, beautiful, wet.

                                                More

I see beautiful nipples that have fed two wonderful children. A hint of stretch marks as evidence of your motherhood, your fertility, your breeding. I see an ass that has inspired a thousand fantasies and even more orgasms. I see a friend who is about to suck my cock, a body I’m about to fuck, a woman who’s about to orgasm.

 More

What do I see? What do I see? I see youth, energy, arousal. I see a wonderful mother, a shrewd businesswoman, a good boss, a wonderful friend. I see need and longing and love and unmet passion and I see love, friendship, desire, and bravery for being here with me.

She pulls our naked bodies together.

What do you feel?

I feel my chest,
your hair,
your breasts on my skin,
your nipples hard,
I feel my blood pulsing.

I feel the tip of your cock on my stomach,
dripping, aching, slippery  May I taste it?

Please use the words.

                                                 May I taste your cock?

Yes, please

                                            Don’t beg.I want this too.

With a smooth motion, she kneels and takes me into her mouth.

Her tongue swirls around the swollen head, teasing, tasting, sucking.

I want you to cum

We’ve just started!

                                              CUM, now, in my mouth

Her mouth engulfs me

I see her hand pinching hard at her nipples, then harder, tugging, pulling

Then it drifts between her legs and strums her clit in hard need.

                                                            (Muffled) – CUM!

I don’t hold back.

FUCK!

I feel my sac constrict and the inevitable rush of pleasure begins

I’m going to cum

She looks up at me, making eye contact, and nods her head.

I reach down and feel her breasts in my hands, holding, caressing, squeezing.

She buries my cock deep in her throat, then gasps, coming up for air.

CUM!

Her mouth goes back on me, her tongue swirling the tip.

I thrust deeper but she holds me at bay and I understand.

I cum.

Buckets, shot after shot, my head swirls,
I can barely keep my feet,
her hands has an iron grip on my sac
and she keeps me from pulling out
until I am
spent,
drained,
happy,
exhausted.

I stagger backward and fall on to the couch. 
She crawls over on her hands and knees,
licking her lips, tasting all of my cum,
until she swallows, smiles,
and opens her mouth for me to see.

We kiss.

                        THANK YOU! Thank you, thank you.

That was perfect.

It was amazing.

She kisses me again and climbs up on the couch.

Her bare skin is radiant, sweaty, glistening.

She leans back on the arm of the couch, letting me, begging me to look at her.

That was perfect…..

She leans back and spreads her legs wide, her lips open, and she smiles again.

Perfect for round one.

 

Outside Narration - I like truthful answers

This was dictated on my phone, transcribed by poorly programmed voice recognition software, then very lightly edited, just enough, I hope, to get across the story. And yes, I finished when the story did. 

Phone rings

We need to take about the tickets

what are you doing right now?

uh do you want the truthful answer or the politically correct answer

give me the truthful answer

well I'm laying on a blanket in my backyard naked thinking about masturbating

holy shit don't say that,

well you said you wanted the honest answer

ohh not that honest

OK, so you want the politically correct answer?

yeah let's back up and try this again. hi what are you doing?  We need to talk about the tickets

Well you can come over. I am currently in the backyard thinking about some of my friends and hoping that they are satisfied with their daily life

Now, that is a bullshit answer

Well it’s the the politically correct version and that means it's usually bullshit

That's not what I meant

What you meant was that you really wanted to know what I was doing but you didn’t want to admit that you wanted to know exactly, what I was doing.

Don't put it that way

Admit it, you're still curious you had your chance and now you think you blew it



Well, did I?

I'm not sure yet, all I know, is that right now I’m alone in the backyard, no one can see me, no one knows how I'm doing. I have a tube of lube and a vibrator next to me.

That's what I mean! You can't say that stuff anymore.

Why not? You used to like hearing it all the time.

I know, but I thought we were being good.

OH, fuck bein good. That didn't get me anywhere now did it?

That's not my fault. I just I just couldn't go through with it.

That's fine, just don't tell me you didn't want to

that's not fair, you know I wanted to, you know I really wanted to do it, but.

But what? Tony banging your best friend when we were on the phone so I don't think it mattered too much. She's not my best friend anymore.

Good, neither is he. Just tell me the last time you thought about me

Please don't make me tell you that

why not? that recently?

you know what it does to me when we start talking, you know how I get wet.

I know

stop it

I think you're getting wet right

stop it or I'll hang up

ohh you could have hung up minutes ago when I called you,  you like texting because it doesn't go anywhere but once you hear my voice you know I'm gonna ask you questions

Then stop asking me questions

I like hearing you answer them

Come on, that’s just not fair. You know what you do to me.

I know what I want do to you

See it’s stuff like.  We’re not supposed to talk about that stuff with each other

Why not?

well I'm your boss

you're not my boss

I paid for your last project

Correction, you reimbursed me for my last project, all my labor was free along with my expertise a couple of gallons of paint and several dozen brushes if II remember

OK fine, that might be true, but what about next day? what about when we see each other next?

What's the problem?

You'll know things about me

 like what?

 ohh come off it.  you know. You ask questions and I tell you answers and you know I can't lie to you.

There's no value in lying in this situation I'm not building a fantasy, I’m building a record

that's what I mean. You ask me these questions and I have to tell you the truth otherwise it doesn't work, does it?

you're right, it only works when you answer truthfully. I can tell a fantasy answer when I hear it, just like a fake orgasm or porn. it's beautiful, but it's a lie so it doesn't mean as much.  why do you think you like telling me the truth?

I don't know, maybe because no one else asks me those kinds of questions.

Well? Should we start with some answers right now?

What?

You know what my first three questions are. They are always the same and I expect you to answer them 100% honestly.

Seriously? I have to go to rehearsal in like 2 hours

That’s not the point

Yeah, it is, because when you get to rehearsal I want you to know that tingling you feel is because of me

it's always because of you

Then let's get started/  give me the basic 3 now

fuck you

not yet, answers please

OK let me think

you shouldn't have to think that hard but you know the rule, not lookoing

it's just that sometimes they're just not that exciting

if they're on you, then they're absolutely thrilling

OK, pale blue, high cut, probably Fruit of the Loom and a little bit worn out

good girl

You can’t call me that for just answering the simplest of questions

I can because that's what you are

what do you mean?

you are my good girl. you answer my questions, you tell me the truth, you let me inside and that makes all the difference

Inside? What do you mean? We've never, you know, never done you know that.

That's the least important place I need to be right now

what do you mean?

you'll let me in there when you're ready to let me in there. Where I wanna be is inside deep inside your head. I want to be inside your panties when I'm 100 miles away. I want to be in the shower with you while I'm sitting next to my family at dinner, and I want to be in your bed when you bring somebody home from the theater

Fuck you

That's why you're my good girl

Thank you Sir. Do you have another question for me?

Yes. When was your last orgasm?

What it's none of your business

tell me tell me now

OK, today's Friday, so it was Tuesday. I just got back from a run. I was so tired.

how far did you go?

6 miles. I did the big loop around the train station, it's flat and it's fast

 kind of like you

cut that out,

You know I think you're beautiful I'm just teasing you

you know I wish my boobs were bigger,

no you don't. they're perfect just the way they are, just the way you are.

what do you mean by that?

They are small, sensitive, and they fit inside my mouth and I can suck on them so hard

May I touch them Sir? Please?

Be specific

May I touch my breasts Sir?

Yes, you may, but only over your shirt

What?

Just for now. imagine we're in the movie theater. I can't get you naked yet, but I can touch you, feel your nipples getting hard

ohh Sir, they are so hard right now

pinch one, the left and then the right

Please Sir

I time my touch with the action on the screen so you can yell out as the cars explode and the men fight for some stupid reason.We picked this one because the reviewers said it was unnecessarily loud for an hour and a half and that's what I want you to be, loud

may I?

May I what? 

may I take my shirt off please

yes you may tell me how it feels

it’s light blue T-shirt that's one of my oldest it's and it's soft and I like how it feels against my skin

you may take it off if you tell me what happened next after your run

yes Sir I had the house to myself so I stripped down as soon as I walked inside the front door. my shoes first then my socks. my T-shirt came off and then my running bra. I'm still not sure why I wear one, but I like it.

Chafing is a bitch.

come on Sir, you know I don't like that word

I'm sorry my sweet, Chaing is unpleasant.

I took off my shirt and my bra I saw myself in the hallway mirror

 go on

The one my grandma likes so much that she bought it at the flea market last year after grandpa died

Yes, I know that mirror. What did you see?

I saw my red hair, the small curves of my breasts. I saw sweat running down between and I've watched myself touch my nipples.

And? And what? Tell me

it made me wet, so I reached down and I pulled my pants down and my panties along with it until I was bare. I stepped out of my running tights I stood naked in front of the mirror

yes continue

Sir? may I ?

What?

May I touch myself?

Be specific

May I put my hands down my pants and touch my clit?

Yes, you may, but you cannot stop talking

thank you Sir. it feels good

What feels good?

I like touching myself when I talk to you

tell me more. what did you see in the mirror?

 well I had just shaved that morning I was still a little red but my skin was bare I could see my lips, so I used my fingers and I spread myself open and then put one finger deep inside myself and that's all it took to cum. Sir, just thinking of you and one finger was all it took

You came from me in the hallway?

Yes, just you, a long run, and one finger, Sir.

Good girl, very good girl.

Red 2

 She's coming over today, in 25 minutes.  I took three pills, just in case, the max daily dose.

Maybe nothing will happen, maybe something will, who knows?

Am I ready to take that chance again?  A chance to get caught, to fall in love with the wrong person, to blow up a sub-par but stable marriage.  Probably not. but what if?  Right?  Isn't that always the question?

What if she comes over alone, maybe she told Ryan to stay home, that she doesn't need any help painting. Maybe, Chris shows up late, and maybe, just maybe, she's wearing her baggy linen shorts and my favorite tank top.  She's barely an A-cup, slim, tall, wildly perfect red hair, a tight little ass built on miles of running, and a smile that makes me lose a breath.

She gets here, 9:30, on the dot.  We have a lot of painting to do, but she asks for a tour of the house first.  My house isn't that big, there's only a little to tour, but I'm glad that I cleaned the bathroom before she came over.

In the master bedroom she kneels on the bed, resting against the headboard, looking out the back window. 

 Is she sticking her ass out on purpose?  She did, in fact, wear her paint-flecked linen shorts.  I stand next to her, next to the window; my heart is pounding, is this it?  

I put my hand on the bare skin between her tight tank-top and the waistband of her shorts.  She doesn’t move away.

“When we moved in over Christmas, 1998, the whole back yard was a jungle,” I said, my hand drawing circles on her bare skin, “the house had been empty for almost a year.”

She closed her eyes as I touched her gently, “That’s the year after we moved here,” she said sleepily, “I was 6.”

“Seriously?” I said, hoping the laughter in my voice was genuine, “are you trying to make me feel old?” 

I playfully swatted her on the back of her head, but then let my hand rest on the back of her neck, playing with her hair for a few seconds.

“I’m sorry,” she said, contrite, “It’s just, that was a big year for our family. I didn’t mean to make you feel old.”

“It’s OK, I am old.  Older” I said, trying to emphasize the -er.

My hand leaves her hair and slides down along her back, but I don’t stop this time.  Crossing over the waistband of her shorts, I lose contact, until I find her soft skin again.

My fingertips find the back of her left thigh and I drift my fingers up and down her pale skin. She sighs, just a bit, and puts her head down on her folded arms.  Her body shifts in unmistakable need.

"Please" she whispers.

"Please what?" I reply softly, trying to calm my voice over the beating of my heart.

"Touch me."

My hand is shaking.  Up and down the soft skin.  Down to the back of her knee, up to the edge of her shorts. Any higher and it’s not flirting any more. Any higher and everything changes, it’s not teasing, it’s seduction, it’s sex. It’s real.

She sighs quietly as my fingertips move across her skin.  Can she feel my heart pounding?  Can she see how nervous I am?

My thumb crosses the line first, up under the fabric, She takes in a sharp breath.  I stop.

“It’s OK”, she whispers.

I can feel the soft linen lift as my thumb pushes higher, exposing the back of her upper thigh, my fingers feeling the curve of her ass from on tops of the fabric.

“MMMMmmmmm” she encourages me, but I can barely breath.

My hand curves around her bottom, my fingertips dangerously close to the center line, I can feel her body in my hand, and she pushes back, every so slightly against my palm, and I squeeze. She giggles.

My hand moves higher, pulling the fabric of her shorts deep between her cheeks.  Her skin is exposed, but I want to see more.  I slide my hand back down her thighs, letting her shorts fall back into place.

She whimpers, but only for a moment, as I use both hands now to pull upward on her shorts, pulling the fabric deep between her cheeks, exposing her pale white skin. She giggles again until I pull harder, tightening the fabric against her crotch, a linen wedgie, lifting her hips, bringing her knees off my wife’s favorite comforter before releasing and letting her drop again.

Her laughter is intoxicating and encouraging. I pull upward again, bouncing her once on my bed, she grabs the headboard for balance.  But the next time is not for giggles, I pull the fabric tight, lift, and suspend her in the air, her body pressing hard against the fabric between her legs.

She is suspended, just off the bed, she could easily extend her legs and take the wait in her feet, but she does not.  She hangs in my hand, the fabric pressing deep in to her middle, the fabric compressing her lips, her clit, and she slowly spread her legs for me, allowing the fabric to do its job.

I slowly let her down.  She is out of breath.  I stroke her hair and the back of her neck.

“Good Girl,” I whisper.  “Did you like that?”

She nods her head up in down in affirmation. 

“Say it.”

“Yes,” she takes a breath, “I liked it.”

“Head down,” I say and she complies, resting her forehead on her arms again.

I reach over her back with my right hand and, using both hands at the same time, pull her baggy linen shorts off her hips and to the bed, where they pool around her knees.

She quivers as I trail my finger up the back of her right thigh, across her hips, and back down again.

Her panties are buried between her soft pink lips.  Her pale skin frames them perfectly and I whisper that she is beautiful. 

“Thank you, Sir.” She responds.

I correct her.

“I’m am not Sir,” my hand caresses the bare curves of her ass as I inch closer and closer to the center. “Today I am Peter, Your friend.” Titles will come later, I tell myself.  She is ready.

My fingertips reach between her thighs and trace her exposed labia from front to back.

She gasps.

I have touched her. There is no going back.

I do it again, gently reaching between her thighs, I seek, not for her clit, but for the wet fabric of her panties and the soft folds of flesh that covers the silk.  This time I use three fingers, stroking her lips, tracing the damp silk, touching her with purpose and permission.

She gasps a bit and giggles, and begins to rise up, but I gently press her back down until she rests her head again.

“I like this part,” I confess, “touching, teasing, exploring.”  My right hand reaches between her exposed this and I spread my fingers, instructing her to spread her legs for me.

“I love feeling you get wet.  I love feeling you quiver.”  I say this very matter of factly.  I’m no longer nervous, I am calm and confident and know that I am doing exactly what she wants done.

“I’m going to pull your panties down.” I put my left hand between her shoulder blade and hold her in position.  My right hand goes under the waistband and pulls away from her skin, avoiding any touch as the panties pull out from between her swollen lips. I push the fabric to the bed.

“Lift” I say, and she lifts her right knee.  I pull her panties and shorts down her leg.

I reach between and tap her left knee.

“Lift”

She repeats the motion and her panties and shorts lay in a pile at the end of my bed.

I resist the urge to bring them to my face, my nose, my tongue.

“I’m going to touch you now.” She nods her head.

This time I don’t ask for a verbal, that will be a part of her later training.  Today is about touching, cumming, and bonding, and it is all going according to plan.

My left-hand slides from between her should blades and to her chest.  Her breasts are wonderfully small with nipples that show through the perfect amount. I feel her nipples through the fabric and receive a grunt of pleasure as a reward.  My hand moves upward and wraps around her throat for a moment, and then slides under the ribbed cotton weave of her tank top, and I feel her breast in my hand for the first time.

This almost make me cum.  I have dreamed of this moment for months.  Through hours and hours of rehearsal, edits, re-writes, table reads, and painting. I watched her come in every day at rehearsal. Tight yoga pants, barely there tank top, perfect makeup and a smile.

She is a hugger and greeted everyone as if they were long lost friends. I gladly accepted her greeting each time but, I longed for more, I longed to wrap my arms around her slim waist and hold on until she could feel my cock grooming between us.

I wanted to hold on to her until she chose to kneel before me, unzip my pants, and take my hard shaft into her mouth. I thought of her constantly, at work, in church, while I was deep inside my wife, when I had quiet moments in the backyard.

It took a while, but we became friends, more than friends, and the tension between us grew but I took my time. I waited.

I confirmed her feelings subtly, I volunteered to drop things off at her office, her storage unit, so we could meet without the gazing eyes of the rest of the cast and crew. Her hugs got longer, instead of me extending them, she would hold on as long as I would let her.

Several weeks went by, the production came and went and was a great success. She is a rising star, and their local theater scene has noticed. I would not have much longer with her. She would be discovered, made famous, and move on.

My opportunity came when we had to work on a new set, I needed help with painting, she invited some of her friends but they did not arrive. So, I gave her a tour of the house.  And now, here we were, I stood next to her, next to my marital bed, and stroked the soft perfect lips of her pussy. She didn't like it to be called that.  I overheard her talking and she said she hated that word, so I didn't say it out loud.

My hand played with her hard nipples. My right hand slipped between her legs and they cupper her soft lips on purpose. No more teasing, no more playing coy. My fingers stroked up and down and found her clit and circled it roughly and she almost collapsed to the bed. My hand held up her chest and I brought her back up to her knees. Finally, I penetrated, and she came. She came on my fingers, clenching come holding on, unable to let go.

After a few minutes, she caught her breath, gained control of her voice, and stopped mewling like a frightened kitten.  Her head dropped between her arms and I let her settle into the pillows my wife bought to go with the new curtains.

I placed my hands on her hip, holding her down, pressing her into the soft, warm bed, allowing her to breath, think, gather, recover, and collect.

I don’t know how long we stayed there, silent, perhaps a bit stunned as to what had just happened. I waited, quietly, until I felt her shift under my hands.

She rolled on to her back, demurely keeping her knees together, until her face came in to view.

She reached up and took my face in her hands.

“Thank you.” She said, and we shared our first kiss.

“Are you OK?” I asked as I move a lock of red hair off her forehead.


“I’m more thank OK,” she responded.  I felt her body shift again and I felt her legs open wide. “In fact, I’m ready for more.”

My Red

 She's coming over today, in 25 minutes.  I took three pills, just in case, the max daily dose.

Maybe nothing will happen, maybe something will, who knows?

Am I ready to take that chance again?  A chance to get caught, to fall in love with the wrong person, to blow up a sub-par but stable marriage.  Probably not. but what if?  Right?  Isn't that always the question?

What if she comes over alone, maybe she told Ryan to stay home, that she doesn't need any help painting. Maybe Chris shows up late, and maybe, just maybe, she's wearing her baggy linen shorts and my favorite tank top.  She's an A-cup, slim, tall, wildly perfect red hair, a tight little ass built on miles of running, and a smile that makes me lose a breath.

She gets here, 9:30, on the dot.  We have a lot of painting to do, but she asks for a tour of the house first.  My house isn't that big, there's only a little to tour, but I'm glad that I cleaned the bathroom before she came over.

In the master bedroom she kneels on the bed, resting against the headboard, looking out the back window. 

 Is she sticking her ass out on purpose?  She did, in fact, wear her linen shorts.  I stand next to her, next to the window; my heart is pounding, is this it?  

My fingertips find the back of her left thigh and I drift my fingers up and down her pale skin. She sighs, just a bit, and puts her head down on her folded arms.  Her body shifts in unmistakable need.

"Please" she whispers.

"Please what?" I reply softly, trying to calm my voice over the beating of my heart.

"Touch me."

An assignment

 "I'm heading outside"

"It's windy - Don't let it hit your clothes"

"I'm going to be taking them off."

"Too bad I have the kids today."

"Yep, too bad."

"What else you gunna do?"

"Watch and see."

"Maybe 😊"

"2 min"

She was right, it was windy, but warm.  The gods haven't decided if it's still spring or summer, so we get a confusing bit of both.

I stepped outside, leaving the door open so I could hear my work phone ring, just in case.

Hanah looked great our our phone call today.  I stayed silent, of course, no need for an HR call this early in the assignment.

The breeze was light, brushing to tops of my trees, making my neighbor's sycamore's sway gently, until a gust swirled around the backyard, ruffling my roses and flapping the tarp covering my weight set.

It felt good to pull of my casual Friday golf shirt and toss it on the lounge chairs, but she was right, it was windy enough that I wanted to avoid the splash, so I kicked off my sandals and pulled down my pants.

The wind felt good and I faced the sun, spread my stance,  and took a deep breath, and let it flow.

It's not a fetish, just a nice feeling, to be naked and outside, warmed by the sun and washed by the wind.  It was a good flow, one to brag about to my urologist, and one that would have been good to share.

I laughed to myself, shook it twice, and reached over to the grass for my pants.

"What's the rush?"  I heard her voice and looked up.  She was standing in the back corner of her yard, under the pepper tree where the fence followed the curve of the hill, and, if you stood next to the fence, we could see into each other's backyard. 

Facing her, I walked a few feet toward her.

"I thought you had the kids."

"Oh," she smiled, "I do, right now they think I'm looking for toys in the backyard."

"What are you really doing?" I turned to face her so she could see me fully.

"I'm looking for a toy I can play with." 

"To bad you have kids and I have work."

I tried not to think about it, but I could feel my blood flowing and my cock getting harder. It stretched and yawned and began to grow.

She laughed, "So, you are glad to see me."

I stopped fighting it and closed my eyes and soaked in the sun and felt it get bigger and bigger.  My hands played with my nipples and my fingertips drifted over my skin.  I could feel my heartbeat through my erection and it felt wonderful.  It felt even better knowing that she was watching.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked.

"You," I said.

"And?"

"What you are going to do to your husband tonight."  I didn't touch myself at all, just let it grow and bounce in time with my heartbeat.

She cleared her throat and stuttered, "Uhmm, what,  I mean, I mean, " she could barely breath, "What do you mean?"

"I'm thinking about what you are going to do to your husband and what he's going to do to you, and it makes me hard."

"And what might that be?

I walked closer so I could whisper.

"After the kids are in bed, you are going to tell him to watch TV for 30 min, time it around Sports Center.  You will shower, shave, and get out your favorite toy and lube."

 She nodded and stared at my fully erect cock.

 "You are going to strip naked and get on your bed, and text him the word, 'Now' and you will wait on your hands and knees. Facing away from the door. Exposed."

I stroked my cock once and she groaned.

"When he comes in you will squeeze a dollop of lube on your fingers, rest your chest on the bed, reach between your legs, and begin masturbating."

"Can I touch myself now?" she asked quietly over my fence.

"No."

"You will continue to touch yourself until he enters you, from behind, and you are not allowed so say a single word, except, 'Please'."

She gave out a little yelp.

"He is to cum inside you.  After that you will lay on your back and ask him to eat you out, again, the only word you are allowed to say, is..." I paused and she filled in the rest.

"Please."

I stroked by cock and took a large drop of pre-cum from the tip and stepped over to her.

Without a word, she opened her mouth, extended her tongue, and took my gift.

I could see her swirl it around her mouth before she swallowed.

"Good Girl"

I turned and walked away without another word.

 

 

 

 

The Golden Sun

I am not a summer person.  The extra pounds I carry on my belly make clothes feel snug and the sweat has nowhere to go.  I love shorts, I look good in them, but I'd rather stay inside when it's 20f than go outside when it is 100F, but today, was about perfect.

We've had several weeks of rain but finally the sun has broken through, and we have settled into a week of 70 to 80° days with light cloud cover, foggy mornings, and wonderfully sunny afternoons. I'm working from home again, working is the key part, I go into the office a couple of days a week to pick up assignments and shake hands and do the meet and greet routine, but the middle of the week is blissfully mine as I clean my office and setup for earning a paycheck.

I have a new neighbor next door, I have thought about them a lot, a sweet young wife with her husband who has all the right woodworking tools but is gone longer than he should be with the wife as cute as he has. Today, I'm fighting a little bit of a head cold, so I have been drinking lots of water, sipping on scalding hot chocolate, and stepping outside to my backyard for fresh air. My wife is gone on a two-day work assignment far enough away that we got her a hotel. This is irrelevant to the story because since I am fighting a cold, she will not kiss me anyway. She is flying to New York in two weeks to see a college friend so the risk of getting sick overwhelms any, albeit rare, amorous intentions. No kissing is the rule until she gets back healthy from the Big Apple.

The offshoot of my health regime is, “Drink a lot, pee a lot” which means that I have taken several breaks to relieve myself in the hot sun, watering a little spot in our backyard each time.

I haven't spoken with Holly since our last conversation through the fence a couple of weeks ago. I saw her in the driveway with her kids, packing up for it looked like a soccer game, I waved to her and smiled, and she blushed and smiled back. I'm not sure if she's admitted to herself what happened the other day, but I certainly have not forgotten it.

With the end of the spring break her kids are back in school so I imagine that her days are quiet at home. The noise of the sliding glass door might have alerted her to my presence because I heard her call over the fence. She said hello and I smiled and said hello back as I unzipped my pants to relieve myself from the last round of water.

What are you doing today? She asked.

“Just getting through work,” I said, “writing a presentation for next week’s staff meeting.

“No,” she said, “I mean what are you doing right now.”

“Well, I'm not laying naked on my lounge chair if that's what you're asking.”

I heard her laugh through the fence and imagined that she blushed a little.

Seriously, she asked, “What are you doing?”

“To be honest,” I said, “I'm taking advantage of the privacy and savings some money on my plumbing bill at the same time.”

“What?” Her voice raised a little, “Are you seriously peeing in your backyard?”

“Why not?” I said, “our esteemed governor has told us to save water so I'm doing my part, one flush at a time.”

“Can you wait for a minute?” She asked quietly.

“Yes,” I replied, “but why?”

“Just wait,” she said.

While I waited, I rearranged the weights to my infrequently used weight set, stacking the rusted plates into piles based on the numbers molded into the side. 25, 10, 5, 2.5, 1.5 and 1, were in neat little stacks by the time I heard my side gate open, then close with the click.

She walked into my backyard for the first time and looked around. She saw the rarely used trampoline, a relic of years of little kids and parties and sleepovers. She looked at the Playhouse I had built years ago and smiled. She looked at my dying flowers and my overgrown pomegranate tree and a dwarf orange that never grew. It remains a dwarf to this day.

“You're looking lovely today.” I said and meant it.  She was in a white T-shirt, a flowy linen skirt, and had her hair in a scrunchy, gathered at nape of her neck.

“I don't have a lot of time.” she said. “I have to go to the grocery store before I pick up the kids from school.”

“Why are you here, Holly?” I looked at her and waited for an answer.

“I want to watch.”

Her eyes darted around the backyard, trying to avoid my gaze, but eventually they returned so I can ask the inevitable question, “What do you want to watch?”

“Are we going to play this game every time?” She asked, “making me say the words I don't want to say.”

“Yes, Holly,” I stepped closer to her and took her by the left hand. “Every time.”

She held my hand as I walked out from under the shaded awning and into the bright sunlight. I slipped my feet out of my sandals and felt the cool grass and wet dirt under my toes. I knew what she wanted. I would gladly give it to her. But, she needed to be trained and there were rules to be followed.

I knelt down and felt the wet dirt the moisture of the wet dirt soaked through the denim of my jeans at the knee. I tapped the back of her calf and she lifted her foot and I slipped off her expensive loafers in the small ankle socks, on first her left, and then her right foot.

“That feels nice,” she said I stood back up and looked down at her, I can tell now that she was not wearing a bra under the white T-shirt, and nipples had hardened and I could see the gentle bumps.

“I make you say the words out loud so we both know what's going to happen, what you want to have happen, and most importantly, things that will not happen. Saying it out loud becomes my contract, our bond. I know what you want, you just have to admit it.”

A gentle breeze made the fabric of her skirt flutter in the wind.

“Tell me what you want.”

“I want to watch you pee,” it was a whisper

I unbuckled my pants and unzipped the zipper

“Tell me again and tell me why.”

“I want to watch you pee in the backyard, the bright sun on your naked cock. I want to see it flow out of you and I want to hear it hit the ground. Why? I don't know, I've always liked it, I've always liked to watch.”

With a light touch on her shoulders, I had her sit down on the low cinder block wall the defined my planter space.

“Pull up your skirt.” I said, “You are going to join me.”

“What?” The question came out louder than she expected her head spun back and forth as if some unseen observer would react. “I've never done that before.”

“I know,” I said, “that's really why you wanted to come over here. You wanted to get away from your husband's security cameras and you wanted to feel this sun on your skin and you wanted me to give permission for you to do something new.”

“Perhaps,” was her reply. She stood up and gathered the soft fabric of her skirt up around her waist. She was wearing simple panties, not of the grandma variety, but not intentionally sexy either. They were clean and thin and white, and I could see the folds of her flesh through the gusset as she sat back down

“The key,” I said, “is to not make a mess come on to keep everything dry except the grass.”

“But I still have my panties on.”

“I know, but not for long.”

She smiled up at me as she sat on the wall. She leaned back and rested her body weight on one hand and allowed her legs to spread further.

“Take my panties off.” She said.

Without a word I knelt in front of her, brought her legs together, and grabbed the waistband and pulled them down.

Standing again, I gave the fabric a kiss as she watched.

“Are you ready?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said, “but I'm nervous, and I don't know how it will happen.”

“You just have to relax, feel the sun out of your skin, And let it flow.  You can close your eyes if you want to.”

With those instructions, she allowed her legs to spread open, and I saw her lips for the first time. Her bush was trimmed tight but not shaved, her lips were exposed and pink and full as I stared at them. My God I was tempted to do more than just our agreed upon action.

“Just relax,” I said, “can you feel the pressure building?”

“Yes”, she replied.

“Can you feel it building up, can you feel the need,”

“Yes.”

I slipped out of my pants and boxers and stood half naked before her.

“Then let it go.”

She whimpered a little bit as I think she strained to push out the deep golden fluid while trying to relax at the same time. I kneeled down in front of her and put my hands on the inside of her thighs and pushed them wider.

“Let it go,” I said.

I saw a little dribble, and she whimpered.

“All of it,” I said with a more commanding tone.

“She took quick breaths, nervous breaths, and I pressed more firmly on her thighs.

“Please”, I asked, “I want to see you pee.”

With that encouragement she gasped, and a full golden stream flowed out from between the folds of her body.

“Don't stop”, I begged.

She seemed to shiver at the words and the stream continued, I felt it hit my skin, I held felt it to run down my stomach, I scooted closer to her and felt the warm stream cover my cock with golden fluid. She opened her eyes and gasped again as she saw her own stream covering my body.

With her free hand she began rubbing her clit, and I asked her if she wanted to cum.

“Yes please! I want to cum.”

I stood up, my cock fully hard, my bladder pulsing just below the skin, I took a deep breath and let it go

Her fingers circled her tight clit and she watched me twitch as my stream started, hesitant at first, fighting its way through the hard shaft, but as I cleared my head and closed my eyes, the flow was steady and strong.

It didn't take long for her to sit up, one hand furiously rubbing between her legs, the other hand coming into my shaft to guide the golden stream to her chest, soaking the thin white T-shirt until it was translucent, her nipples dark and round showing through the fabric. As my stream slowed, she looked up at the and said please, and she opened her mouth and guided the last few drops in.

“May I cum now Holly?” I asked.

She nodded and said “Yes.”