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Clothed

By: smfc



I lick my lips and I reach behind the couch with the vacuum. I hear the key shift in the door and I turn around quickly, meeting your eyes. Your anger shows on your face and I forgot, I'm wearing clothes. I bite into my lip, this time tasting a bit of blood. I see the motion of your fingers, and I have already obeyed. I lay back on the carpet and spread my legs wide apart.

I whimper up at you as you come closer to me.

You tell me you're hungry and I expect your hot mouth against me. I arch my back, using my hands to hold my thighs open as you force yourself upon me. I sigh faintly and scratch at the floor. I twitch with the pleasure you give me and my face grows a bit red. I close my eyes for a moment and breathe, my stomach sucks in as my lungs pull for air.

I bite harder into my lip, a bit of red dripping on my chin. I try to keep my body still as you rightfully take your meal. My calves clench and my feet point as I being to reach my climax. My head twists to the side as feel myself orgasm against your tongue and face. A quick, high toned scream escapes me.

I nearly stumble as you pick me up, but I will my legs to keep me up. The bed is cool against my body, my arms taut with my wrists tied. I arch my body against the bed and whimper, waiting. I cry out as you begin to hit my breasts, my nipples and skin begin to grow red and hot. I close my eyes and my pain slips through me as you continue treating me with your attention. When you untie me and leave me, I hear the shower run and tiptoe into the bathroom.

My eyes find your body against the water and I briefly smile. I strip, tugging my white t-shirt over my head, my long, black hair flowing on my bare back. I slip my small panties off and step out of them towards you. I keep my gaze on your face as I kiss your chin, your neck, your collarbones. My lips brush against your nipple as I kneel down slowly in front of you so the beads of warm water bounce off my face when I look up at you from my new level. I lick your balls, around your entire dick, massaging your base with my tongue. I take it in my hand and run my tongue and lips over the head. I let it slip into my mouth, pushing against one cheek, letting my head back with a popping sound. I open my mouth wider and it pushes against the other cheek. I spit on your dick and lick my lips, more moisture to help me. Your taste is along my tongue and I begin to twist my head from side to side. I begin to try and take your dick deeper in my throat, forcing it back further every stroke. I gag and it slips out of my mouth. I spit on your head, your balls, I wet my lips and let them travel along your length. My throat pushes against itself as I try to take your whole dick once more. I try to fight back my gag and my eyes tear up, though the water quickly washes them away.

I stand up and guide you gently to the bathroom floor, where I kiss you all over. Keeping my eyes closed, I brush my lips against your nipples, kissing up to just below your chin. My thighs are soft against your wet ones, and I reach back to position your dick into my pussy. I whimper as I feel myself parting, but I push back so you're entirely inside me. I hope my pussy is still tight as I clench it, holding myself up by my hands on either side of you, on the floor. I rock my hips back and forth, my lips slightly parted. The rhythm is slow, yet consistent. I try hard to keep myself on top, making sure my hair does not get in your hair as I start to make my body lighter, easier to receive your full thickness. I lean back and twist myself gently around so my back is towards you. With shy skill, I keep your dick fully inside me in the process. My knees are bent, my feet flat on the ground and my hands back at the floor on either side of you. I moan as I take you in deep, my pussy and clit exposed to the steam the running hot water is producing, my butt relaxing against your stomach and hip bones. I set my hair in a quick bun before I begin rocking back and forth on your dick, so the strands won't fall on your face. I let my head drop as I moan softly against the ceiling. My body arches, letting my pussy take in more of your length. I whimper and my thighs shake slightly. My balance is faltering, so I use slip my legs together in between yours, my knees still bent and use the counter sink to hold on to. I sit straight on your groin and, using the cold surface as leverage and stability, I begin to bob up and down your dick. I look back at you, making sure the look on your face is that of enjoyment and a pleasure that I am hopefully fulfilling. I clench my pussy tight, tighter now that my thighs are closed. My skin slaps against yours, the wetness of your shower echoing against the walls the harder I bring myself down on your cock.

I climb off, and kneel down on my hands and knees at your side. I taste myself on your dick as I slip it into my mouth once more. My fingers massage your abdominal muscles and your balls. My strokes are long against your dick and it hurts my throat as I push it deeper down. This time I do not gag, but the bulge against my esophagus makes my body shake gently. I feel saliva dripping on my chest and I close my eyes as your dick pops out of my mouth. I try to take your whole dick in one clean stride, my fingers pressing softly against your sack. I try, my spit overflowing from my mouth as I meet the base of your penis. I push my body to relax, all of my muscles and once I feel your dick swelling, I rub my tongue all over its underside, keeping everything of yourself deep inside my throat. You explode inside my little mouth and I do not hesitate to gulp down every drop. I clean my own saliva off your softening penis, making sure I can taste nothing but my Master's dick.

Clothed Female, Naked Sam



Hello, everyone, Zoe here. My favourite author on literotica - ValerieK51 - doesn't post here anymore. I miss her stories so much because the same sort of things turned us both on - her kinks were my kinks.

Her story 'School For Girls' is like THE handbook to the way I feel. Everything that happened in that story I would love to happen to me. I even made myself a uniform just like she described.

For this story, I've taken my cue from Valerie's 'Grandma Effie' where a conservatively dressed older woman with an uninhibited kinky side takes control of a young male who is (temporarily) kept naked. Then I've gone a different way. I've basically written this story for Valerie, to appeal specifically to her, but that's not to say others won't enjoy it too!

It was a common theme in her stories to use her own name and that of her son, Sam, with whom she was having an incestuous relationship (at least, in her stories - I can't speak for real life).

So as both an homage to ValerieK51 and as a plea to her, begging her to reconsider leaving and come back to us, I have borrowed the names of two of her characters - Valerie and Sam Knight, for my story.

Please come back Valerie. I miss you.

Zoe.

p.s. Just one other thing. I wasn't sure what category to ask to have it placed in. It is basically a CFNM story, so I guess that gives it a strong exhibitionist/voyeur slant. There's an incest element, but I think the incest is mild and the other elements too strong to be truly at home in the incest/taboo category. So I ultimately chose fetish, as that is a theme which runs throughout. I'm not interested in having a large readership, I'm more concerned with the calibre of those readers. ;-)

*****

Zoe and Sam had been dating for three weeks. They'd met at a concert, where Sam had accidentally spilt his drink over Zoe. He'd been such a gentleman, offering her his own top, but Zoe had told him not to worry about it; it was fine. She was just a little damp, she'd dry out soon enough. Grabbing a drink at the bar afterwards, the two exchanged numbers. Hop, skip, jump. Dating.

"Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"What turns you on?"

"You do."

"No, really.

"Really. You do."

Zoe lay flat on her stomach on Sam's bed. She was nude. They'd just had sex. He was on his back, cock soft and facing the ceiling. Zoe seemed to go away in her mind for a minute or two, then she came back to the physical realm.

"Sam? I don't want you to be afraid of sharing your fantasies with me."

"I'm not afraid."

"So tell me one."

"What? Now?"

Zoe grinned through her teeth. "Sure!"

"Okay, um? Uh..."

"Struggling?"

Sam laughed, "Yeah. I mean there's so many, where do I begin!"

"Nooo! Seriously. You can tell me Sam."

"Zoe, you turn me on. You're so pretty."

"You don't think my boobs are too small?"

"I think your boobs are perfect. Small yes. But I like small."

"What else?"

"Do we have to do this? I like you Zoe. I like your face, I like your eyes. I like the way you smell. Your boobs, the way they fall back and you just have these nipples sticking up. I like that you don't shave your bush, that it's like a forest down there. I like your legs, your inner thighs. That beautiful bum of yours, your sexy toes. I like holding your hand Zoe. I like feeling you beside me, knowing that you're there, that I can just turn and say something and know that you'll hear me. And that it's me that you're listening to, that I have your attention. I like the way you dress."

"You do?"

"I do."

"How? What in particular?"

Sam sighed. "Just anything Zoe. I like the way you dress, you have a nice style. Kind of classic and plain. I like that you don't wear bright colours, you know, flashy and mixed. I don't like mixed colours."

"What colours do you like?"

"Just, you know. Blue, grey... white and black. Just the classic colours."

"How would you dress me?"

"What?"

"You know. If you could pick out my wardrobe for the day, how would you dress me?"

"Oh Zoe, do we have to? You can dress any way you like and I'll still love you."

"You love me?"

"What?

"You said you loved me."

"Zo-eeee! Why, why do you have to mess with me all the time? Yes, I love you, okay? I'm in love with you. I think you're beautiful and I want to be with you. But girl, you don't half mess with my head at times!"

Zoe smiled and bounced up onto her knees alongside Sam. She took hold of his cock, just lying there motionless and began playing with it. She let go and lay down on top of him, feeling his cock harden between them. She kissed him on his lips and gazed into his eyes. "I love you too Sam."

Sam breathed a sigh of relief. He rolled over on Zoe and began kissing her all down her body, quickly finding his way between her legs.

"Do you want me to shave for you Sam?"

"Hell no. Frankly, I can't wait for this whole silly shaving phase to end. Women just look better with a bush."

"Really Sam? You look at other women?"

Sam squirmed.

"It's okay baby, I'm kidding. We've only been together a few weeks. I know you looked at other women."

"I only looked at them because I hadn't found you."

"Oh Sam. You say the sweetest things."

He ran his tongue through her bush, finding the entrance to her warm moist cavern. He licked his finger and pushed it into her backside. Zoe moaned. He began to work her clit with his tongue while he finger fucked her ass. She soon began lifting her backside off the bed to meet his touches.

"Enough Sam, enough. Come up here. I want you inside me."

Zoe ran a condom down the outside of Sam's shaft and guided him inside her.

As he began to thrust in and out of her, he maintained eye contact. "I do love you Zoe. I really do."

"I love you too Sam. Oh! God!" Zoe's orgasm was already here. Her pussy clenched around Sam's cock and she arched her back, pushing out her breasts.

Sam slipped out of her and let her roll over into his arms, where he just held her.

"You didn't cum."

"But you did. That's all that matters to me."

"Oh Sam, let me suck you off."

"No babe, let's just lie. It's nice, isn't it?"

"So nice Sam. So nice."

They lay like that for much of the afternoon, Zoe with her head on Sam's chest and Sam rubbing his fingers up and down Zoe's arm and shoulder.

"You never told me Sam."

"Told you what?"

"How you would dress me. Tell me now Sam. Please."

"Um..."

"Would you like me in a skirt? A dress? Trousers, shorts?"

"Skirt."

"Okay. What colour?"

"I don't know, grey or black I guess."

"Long, short, straight, pleated."

"Knee length. And pleated for... ease of access."

"Ooh, kinky! Alright. What sort of top?"

"A blouse."

"What kind? Low cut, round neck, V neck, collar."

"Yes. Collar."

"Colour."

"White."

"Mmm, I see where you're going with this."

"You do?"

"You've got a school uniform fetish. You want me to wear a tie and a jumper? A blazer maybe."

"No. No, I wouldn't go that far. And I don't think it even is a school uniform I'd want to see you in."

"What is it then?"

"I don't know Zoe. I've never dressed a woman before."

"So now's your opportunity. I'll be your real live Barbie girl."

Sam smiled and kissed Zoe on top of her head. "Um, Zoe?"

"Babe."

"Would you dress like an old fashioned woman, you know, like 50s, classical?"

"Oh, you mean like an old fashioned school maam, all buttoned up, prim and proper."

"Yes!" Sam was a little too eager with his response. Zoe smiled.

"Should I wear glasses?"

"I wouldn't go that far. You could maybe wear a brooch if you like."

"A brooch?"

"Yeah, something simple, like a gem or something. Something to wear between your collar."

"Sam! That's really kinky. You got an old crone fetish, don't you?"

Sam laughed, somehow at ease, but blushing nevertheless. "You started it. I didn't ask you, you asked me."

"I know. I'm just teasing."

"Stockings? Shoes?"

"Whatever. I don't mind. High heels. Bare legs, no stockings."

"You changed your mind fast. What else? A jacket, cardy, sweater?"

"Yeah, something woollen. Cardy, sweater, either."

"Colour?"

"Grey. Grey for wool, black for jacket or waistcoat."

"Ahh! I see, you plan on dressing me every day!"

"Would you let me?"

"I'd have to think about that. You're going to have me walking around like a little old woman."

"In heels!"

Zoe bit her lip. She had an idea.

**

The next day, Zoe showed up on Sam's doorstep. His mother answered the doorbell.

"Oh, I'm sorry... Mrs. Knight, I was..."

"Zoe?"

Zoe blushed. Whatever must Sam's mother think of her dressed the way she was?

"What an adorable little get-up you have on dear. Please, come on in. Sam just popped to the store for some groceries. He should be back by now."

The two women walked in and sat down at the kitchen table. It was all Zoe could do to maintain eye contact. She felt so awkward, her hair up in a bun to go with the outfit. She even had on a pair of clear glass spectacles, really old fashioned ones.

"Can I get you a drink?"

"Oh no thanks Mrs. Knight."

"Please, call me Valerie."

Valerie Knight was a good looking woman. Sam had mentioned that his mother was in her early fifties, but she could easily pass for a decade younger. She was about 5'7" with long dark hair cascading over her shoulders. Her breasts were a still pert 36C or thereabouts and her waist was slim. She had beautiful big green eyes and spoke with the hint of a French accent, though her English, like her skin, was flawless.

The back door opened and Sam walked in, carrying two bags of groceries. "Zoe!" He looked at her, still blushing in her costume. "Zoe! Wow! Hi!"

He walked over to her and kissed her on the cheek. "Here you go Mum, can you put it away, or do you need some help?"

"I'll manage. You two kids enjoy yourselves."

"Thanks Mum. Love you."

"I love you too baby."

Sam took Zoe by the hand and led her upstairs to his room. "Wow, look at you!"

"Oh God Sam. I'm so humiliated. What must your mother think? I look like a Granny!"

"You don't Zoe. You look amazing. Wow. Wait, wait there. I've got to take a photo."

"Sam, no!"

"Please baby. I just... you did this for me and I love you for it, I really do. But I've got to have a photo."

"So you can jerk off?"

"Is that so awful?"

"I'd rather you kept all your sperm for me."

"That can be arranged. Dress like that all the time and there'll be no shortage of sperm. I guarantee you that."

"You're really turned on by this, aren't you?"

"Oh Zoe. Like you wouldn't believe."

Sam took the photos as Zoe posed. She had worn a white blouse with a collar and buttoned it all the way to her neck. She'd worn a grey knee-length pleated skirt like she'd been asked and a matching grey cardigan, round neck, with just the top button fastened. Her shoes were black and the heels were three inches. Her hair was tied up in a bun and of course she had the glasses. And then there was the brooch, some kind of amber jewel that she wore over her blouse's top button.

It was only a matter of seconds after putting the camera down that Sam was on his knees between Zoe's legs, her skirt completely covering his head. She hadn't worn any panties, none had been requested. Sam's tongue lapped at Zoe's bush which was already moist and leaking fluids. His hands reached behind her and cupped the cheeks of her bottom and he used them to pull her towards him so he could service her clit.

"Oh God!" Zoe yelled out. "Oh Sammy. Oh God, yes! Oh fuck! There, right there, yes, oh! Oh! A little bit more. Oh FUCCCCKKKK!"

Zoe's orgasm hit her like a freight train and she could feel what juices Sam was failing to lick up, trickling down her thighs. Sam came up for fresh air and kissed Zoe.

She was still stood in the middle of his room, fully clothed. Her face was flushed but it wasn't from blushing any more. It was from the best orgasm she'd had all year. These clothes, they weren't just doing something to Sam, they were doing something to her too.

"Sam. I want you to listen carefully to me. I want you take off all your clothes and put them on the bed. Then I want you to go get a condom and bring it to me."

Sam's clothes were off in a flash and he was standing nude in front of Zoe with a condom between his teeth, his hands up in front of his chest, begging like a puppy.

"Good boy" She patted him on the head and took the foil wrapper from his mouth. Tearing it open, watching Sam, his eyes never leaving her, just scanning over her body and the clothes she was wearing.

"I love you Zoe."

She smiled and holding the unrolled condom to the tip of his rock hard boner, she felt it surge and a moment later, he was shooting his hot load all over her.

"Wow! You really are turned on baby."

"Oh God, I'm sorry."

"Baby why?"

"I spunked on you before we even did anything."

"Do you have any idea what a compliment that is to me? You're not a premature ejaculator Sam, you've never failed to satisfy me with that cock of yours. To have you shoot off like that, just from looking at me, I'm so touched. That was fantastic," she said, holding the back of her hand to her mouth so she could lick his semen off it.

Zoe took hold of Sam by his penis and led him to sit next to her on his bed. "Look at us, eh! A prim school maam and a naked boy, both of us satisfied within minutes of coming into your room."

"Uh, Zoe?"

"What is it Sam?"

"It's not going down."

"What?"

"My cock. That's the first time that's ever happened. It always goes soft after I ejaculate. It's not going soft."

Zoe began to stroke it. "Does that hurt? Is it still tender?"

Sam shook his head. "No, it's fine."

Zoe stood up and took her glasses off and reached behind her head to unclip her hair.

"What are you doing?"

"Undressing. So we can fuck."

"Leave it on. Please."

"All of it?"

Sam nodded. He lay back on his bed and Zoe took the unused condom and slid it down Sam's still erect penis. She kneeled over his cock, took it between her fingers and sat herself down on it. She began to thrust up and down on top of him.

Looking up, the sight before Sam's eyes was one that he had only ever harboured in fantasies inside his own head. And now Zoe, the girl he loved, the girl he found more beautiful than any other, had got him to reveal his fantasy and was actively partaking in it.

Sam slipped his hand under Zoe's skirt and began playing with her clit as she bounced up and down on his cock. "I love the way you look Zoe, you're so beautiful, my every dream come true."

His words made Zoe's brain find her moment and her vagina began to expel fluid at an increased rate. Slapping down onto his cock and balls, she started to cum. "Oh God!" she hummed, biting her lower lip in ecstasy.

Sam's face tightened and Zoe knew he was pumping his load into the little baggy.

Zoe collapsed fully clothed onto Sam and just let her lips slide all over his face as his did the same to her.

"Sam? Zoe?" Mrs. Knight shouted up the stairs. "I forgot eggs, so I'm just popping back to the store. I'll be about twenty minutes."

"Okay Mum, drive careful."

Zoe looked up at Sam. "Is that your Mum's way of saying we have the house to ourselves for the next twenty minutes, so if we want to have sex, now's the time."

Sam smiled back at her. "I think so."

"God, could we?"

"I don't know if I could do it again Zoe. Two in quick succession. I might break it if I tried."

"Try it for me Sam. But not here."

"Where?"

"You ever walked nude around your house Sam?"

"No. Never."

"Well there's a first time for everything."

The door slammed downstairs and they heard the car engine starting up.

"Come on Sam. Follow me, I'll check that the coast is clear."

Clothed Zoe led naked Sam out onto the landing, then slowly down the stairs. Zoe popped her head around the corner to see. "Oh! Mrs. Knight. I thought you'd gone out..."

Sam scarpered back up the stairs to his room faster than his legs would otherwise carry him. When he returned to his room, he could hear Zoe laughing.

"Baby, I'm sorry. I'm only joking, your Mum's not here."

Sam came out of his room, his cock dangling between his legs. "That's not funny Zoe. My Mum's never seen my cock."

"Oh, I'm sure that's not true Sammy."

"You know what I mean. She hasn't seen it since it's..."

"Grown?"

"Yeah. And had hair."

"Come on down here baby, I'm sorry. We're all alone."

At the bottom of the stairs, Zoe held out her hand for Sam and she took hold of it in hers as she led him into the kitchen.

"Now then, let's see what we can do. Sammy? Will you open the fridge door and stand in front of it, facing it?"

"Why?"

"Because I asked you to. Do you need another reason Sammy?"

"No. That's reason enough." Sam did as she asked. And then realised. That was some pretty cold air spilling out onto his cock.

Zoe took that opportunity to explore some of the other rooms, make sure there was no one else home. As she walked into each room, she lifted the hem of her skirt up and flashed her bush, showing herself off to the furniture. It gave her a thrill. When she'd been to every room, she went back to the kitchen and put her arms around Sam, feeling down to his penis.

"Oh Sammy! What happened?"

"It's cold in there Zoe."

"Well, let's see if I can warm it up a little." Zoe dropped to her knees and sucked Sam's soft cock into her mouth. "Wow, it really is cold."

"Mmm," was the only sound she got out of Sam, his cock rapidly hardening in Zoe's mouth.

She plopped off him and caught hold of his penis, then led him into the living room.

"Have you ever masturbated in here Sammy?"

"Once."

"Do tell."

"Mum went out for dinner with some of her friends. I kind of wondered what it would be like."

"And what was it like?"

"As it turned out, a lot of hassle. I gooped on the carpet and spent ages trying to clean it up, then even longer trying to dry the wet patch before Mum got home."

"Aww, poor baby! So you never tried again?"

Sam shook his head.

"Until now."

"What?"

"Jerk off for me Sam."

"But, what if I make a mess? We don't have much time."

"You can cum in my mouth Sam. I just want to watch you watching me while you jerk off. When you're close, I'll get ready to swallow."

"Zoe... my Mum could..."

"If you really love me Sam, you'll do it."

Sam started to rub his penis. It was already erect from the feel of Zoe's mouth. And now it was going to feel it again. And he was going to get to cum in there and she'd swallow. And she was dressed the way she was. He was so horny.

Zoe walked around Sam. She felt a rush from the way she was getting to control him. Ever since she dressed this way and saw his reaction to her, the way she could make him do things outside his comfort zone, it was giving her a thrill. She had no idea she would feel this way, but she was most definitely getting off on the sense of power over him.

"I want you to cum in my mouth Sam. I want you to fill me with your sperm. That's the way. You're such a good boy, aren't you, jerking your cock for me. Do you like the way I'm dressed Sam? Do I turn you on when I dress this way?"

"Oh God, Zoe. Now, now, quick."

Zoe dropped to her knees as Sam began to ejaculate, his first spurt of cum hit Zoe in the face, on her cheek just below her eye. She opened her mouth wide to capture Sam's cock, but it was exploding with such vigour and moving about of its own accord, that the second spurt went straight up her nose. By the third, she'd managed to contain it and Sam blasted his spunk down her throat.

Then Sam heard the car pulling up down the side of the house.

"Zoe, that's my Mum. We've got to go."

"Wait Sammy. I want to get all your spunk off my face first."




Clothed Female, Naked Sam



"Come on, we can do that upstairs."

"No Sam," Zoe was firm. "I said wait."

Sam waited, covering his cock with his hands in case his mother came in.

"Hands by yours sides, please Sam. I don't want you ever to hide it from me."

Zoe was looking in her compact, scraping his goop off her face and sucking it into her mouth.

Sam heard his mother turning the back door handle.

"Please Zoe."

"Okay, up you go. I'll help your Mum with the eggs."

Sam didn't stick around to question that statement, he bolted up the stairs, missing out every other step. Help her with eggs? Just how do you help someone with a packet of eggs? No matter.

Sam had cum three times since Zoe had arrived and that was only about half hour ago. He went into the bathroom and gave his cock a wash, his armpits too. Then he came downstairs, to find Zoe and his mother in conversation, though when he entered the kitchen, they both turned to look at him and went quiet. Never a good sign, he thought.

**

A couple of (normal) days later, Sam got a text from Zoe. She wanted him to come over to her house for tea.

When Sam got there, Mrs. Aames answered the door. Sam had a shock. She was dressed in a white blouse, her collar done up and she was wearing a brooch over her top button. Her hair was tied up in a bun and she had on a black skirt and a black jacket, no stockings and a pair of three inch heels. Oh God, he panicked. Had Zoe said something? She must have. No one dresses that way unless they really are prim school maams.

"Hi Mrs. Aames, you're looking... um... uh..."

"Yes?"

"Um... I mean..."

"Come on Sam. Out with it. I'm looking... ugly? Is that what you want to tell me?"

"No! God no. No, not at all, you're, you're ver..."

"Very what Sam?"

"Um, is it hot in here?"

Mrs. Aames smiled at him. "I don't know, you haven't actually stepped inside yet Sam."

"Oh, no, I mean, yes, I, um..."

She held the door open for him and he stepped past her.

"Thank you Mrs. Aames, you look very lovely," Sam blurted. "I'm sorry I'm such a tongue tied fool."

Closing the door behind him. "Thank you Sam. That's very kind of you to say. And I don't think you're a fool, not by a longshot."

Sam smiled. "Is uh, Zoe..."

"She'll be right down Sam. She's been shopping for some new clothes."

"Clothes? Oh um, yes, clothes! The things you wear."

"Am I making you uncomfortable Sam?"

"Not at all Mrs. Aames. I um... it is rather warm in here, I think."

"Come on, let's get you a drink to cool off."

"Thank you."

"My pleasure Sam. What would you like?"

"Oh, uh, just a soft drink if I may."

"Of course you may. Coke, Lilt, J2O?"

"Uh, Coke please."

"I'll just get you a glass."

"Thanks."

"Oh, here she is. Zoe dear, you didn't tell me what a good looking young man you've been seeing."

"Didn't I Mum?"

Sam turned and looked at Zoe, her hair tied up in a bun. She was dressed in a black skirt, pleated, with a black waistcoat. She had on a white blouse, long sleeved. And of course, like her mother, her collar was done up right to the top and she was wearing a small round, black brooch over her collar.

"Zoe! You look stunning."

"Thank you Sam. Doesn't my Mum look pretty too? Do you like what she's wearing Sam?"

"It's um... an interesting choice. What um... what made you choose it Mrs. Aames, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Well, Sam dear. When Zoe came home the other day and I saw what she was wearing, I thought she looked so radiant. Her cheeks were blushing and full of colour. She was the picture of a sunny day. I adored her little outfit, so, shuffling around in my wardrobe this morning, I thought why not, let's give it a go. See if her old Mum can pull off the look."

"And can she Sam? Do you think Mum can pull off the look?"

Sam held his glass and the can of Coke over his frontage. He was sporting one heck of a boner and was feeling kind of self conscious about it.

"I'd say. Most definitely. You both look... so lovely."

"Why Sam, that's such a beautiful thing to say. Thank you, really, thank you." Mrs. Aames put a hand on each of his shoulders and kissed him on his cheek.

Sam pushed his bottom backwards as he stooped over his front, so as not to poke his girlfriend's mother with his growing erection.

"What's the matter Sam? Are you alright? Would you like to sit down?"

"Yes. That would be nice."

Mrs. Aames smiled at her daughter as they led Sam into the living room. There were cakes and sandwiches laid out on plates on the coffee table. Sam put his glass down on a coaster and sat down at the end of the sofa. Zoe sat next to him and Mrs. Aames in the chair to his side.

"This is nice," said Mrs. Aames.

"Isn't it?" replied Zoe.

"Yes, very nice," Sam confirmed.

"So Sam, Zoe was telling me the story of how you met."

"I'm such a klutz."

"Not at all. Your meeting was serendipitous. If you hadn't spilled your drink on her, you might not be here now."

"No, I suppose you're right."

"So, what's it like meeting the mother for the first time? On a scale of mildly awkward to down right terrifying, how do I rate?"

The comment put Sam at ease. "I think you're very nice Mrs. Aames. And tea looks lovely, it really does. I admit to feeling a little nervous at first, but you've since put me at ease and made me feel very welcome. And I appreciate that, very much indeed."

"Oh, he's such a gentleman, Zoe. I like him a lot!"

"Hands off Mum, he's mine!"

"Can't we share him dear?"

Sam's eyes lit up wide. The very thought of such a thing caused his penis to throb uncomfortably in his trousers.

"So, do you love my daughter Sam?"

"I do, Mrs. Aames. Very much."

"How much?"

"What?"

"I asked, how much?"

"A lot."

"Can you quantify it better than that?"

"I love her with all my heart. I'd do anything for Zoe, anything she asked, I'd do it willingly."

Mrs. Aames turned to her daughter. "Zoe?"

Zoe bit her lip.

"Undress for me Sam."

"What?"

"You know. Like we did before. Undress for me."

"Zoe! Shh, not here."

"What seems to be the problem, Sam?"

"I..."

"You...?"

Sam was shocked, but thinking he was being punked, he began to smile. They were just joking with him. Weren't they?

"Are you going to do as my daughter asked, Sam?"

"You mean?"

"I mean undress, Sam. Are you going to do like Zoe asked, or are you going to let her down?"

"I can't get undressed here. That's just a game we played at my house."

"I like games, Sam. I like all kinds of games."

"But, surely, you can't want me to undress in front of you Mrs. Aames."

"Sam, I think you'll find that there is no one more important to me than my daughter. I love her more than life itself. Now, you've made a statement that's very admirable. You said you loved her with all your heart and that you would do anything for her. Anything she asked, you said, you'd do it willingly. Now, I know what willingly means Sam and I have to say, so far, it doesn't appear that you will do anything she asks, willingly or otherwise."

"Zoe..." Sam turned to her. "What am I supposed to say? Your mother, she's... what do I do?"

"I asked you to undress Sam. Please do that, for no other reason than I asked you."

Sam leaned into Zoe and whispered in her ear. "But I have an erection."

Zoe replied in her normal voice. "You have an erection? I'm sure Mum won't mind. Mum, you won't mind, will you?"

"Of course not dear. Hard to believe perhaps, but I've seen a few erections in my time."

Oh God, what were they doing to him? Why were they making him feel this way? Why was his cock harder than it had ever been in his life?

He stood up. Then he leaned over and kissed Zoe on her cheek. "I love you Zoe. I do, with all my heart. And I meant what I said, I will do anything for you. You only have to ask and that will always be good enough for me. I'm sorry I didn't just do as you asked, right away."

Sam took off his shoes first, then his socks. Mrs. Aames was looking directly at him and so too was Zoe. He unbuttoned his shirt next and placed it on the sofa next to Zoe, then felt for his belt and unzipped his trousers, letting them fall to the floor before picking them up. He just had his briefs left. As he stood there, mother and daughter dressed the way they were, watching him closely, he felt his cock shift around wildly in his knickers. Mrs. Aames was watching it throb, her eyes firmly fixed on its every movement.

He turned to face Zoe, who looked up into his eyes. "Are you sure Zoe? If this is a test..."

"It is a test Sam. It's a test whether or not you love me as much as you say you do."

"I do Zoe. Please don't doubt me. But if I said I'd die for you, would you expect me to kill myself now?"

"But you didn't say that Sam. And if you had, no I wouldn't. I love you, I don't want to lose you. Please take off your knickers Sam, please, for me."

With that final request, Sam dropped his knickers to the floor and his cock sprang free. Standing upright, the tip slapped right into his belly button. Zoe's eyes gleamed as she directed him to turn around and sit back down in his seat.

Mrs. Aames got up out of her chair and gathered up all of Sam's clothes.

"What, what are you doing, Mrs. Aames?"

"Oh Sam. I'm so proud of you. But you won't be needing these again for a while. Not until it's time for you to go home. And that's not for hours yet."

"Hours? You want me to stay naked in front of you both for hours?"

Zoe nodded very matter-of-factly.

"Are you going to get naked too?"

"Of course not Sam. I have these lovely clothes that you like so much. And Mum does too. Tell us how seeing us wearing these clothes makes you feel Sam."

Mrs. Aames stood with all of Sam's clothes bundled in her arms.

"Oh Zoe, don't tease him. We can see how it makes him feel. Just look between his legs."

Mrs. Aames pointed at Sam's penis, her finger was barely an inch from his tip. And Sam felt it heave in her finger's presence, as though trying to reach out and actually touch it. She carried on out into the hallway and up the stairs.

"Where's she going with my clothes?"

"She's just putting them out of reach Sam. So you know that you won't get them back until much later. She's just removing all temptation."

"Is this a game Zoe?"

"Oh Sam. When your Mum went out for eggs the other day and we walked around your house, me in clothes, dressed the way that turns you on and you so naked, I just got such a sense of power over you. I loved it Sam. It made me feel so good. I've never felt anything like it in my life. I just want to feel it again Sam, to keep feeling it over and over and over again. You want me to feel turned on, don't you Sam, like you are when I dress like this?"

"But your Mum?"

"She's fine with it. When I came back and told her everything we did, about how my dressing this way made you putty in my hands, Mum told me all about the things she used to do when she was my age."

"Things?"

"Yes Sam," Mrs. Aames returned to the room. "When I was Zoe's age, myself and a number of other ladies used to make men walk around without any clothes on for us. It was such a thrill. We never undressed for them, we always remained clothed. It was the men who must always be naked. It shows the proper respect. You see Sam, men are bigger and stronger than women and we can sometimes be intimidated by them. When they are in their comfort zone, they can have a tendency to be... well, men. Having you strip naked takes you out of that comfort zone, it makes you vulnerable. And when you are vulnerable you are less of a threat to us and we feel much more comfortable in your presence, less intimidated. You don't want us to be intimidated by you, do you Sam?"

Sam knew they had him wrapped around their little fingers. Their clothes alone saw to that. Having him be naked and exposed, where they were able to see his inner feelings being displayed by that great betrayer between his legs, was just the icing on the cake. And he had to admit. He was incredibly turned on.

"So, what happens next?"

"Next Sam, I think you should take care of some overdue business."

"How do you mean Mrs. Aames?"

"Sam. You can't sit there for the next two hours, with your penis throbbing away its discomfort. You need milking Sam. So I think you should take care of that and then we can eat."

"But, that's kind of personal."

"Oh Sam, there's no need to be shy. I've seen you naked, I've seen your penis erect, I'm looking at it right now. You have nothing left to hide from me. I know what masturbation looks like Sam. And I know what semen looks like too. In fact, it's very good for a woman's skin."

"Your skin?"

"So much better than anti-wrinkle cream Sam. You'd be doing me a great favour if you were to cum on my face, one that I will be sure to repay."

"You want me to cum on your face? Mrs. Aames, I... it's not really appropriate."

"Sam, we need to get this out of the way. It's a necessary step in you becoming more comfortable. And once I've milked it a few times for myself, you'll learn to relax around me just like you've learned to relax with my daughter. That makes sense, doesn't it?"

"I suppose so, Mrs. Aames."

"So, come on then. Come and stand in front of me."

Sam turned to Zoe, still sat on the sofa. She nodded her approval. "Please do as Mum asks Sam. I want you to."

Sam looked at Mrs. Aames who was sat on the edge of her chair, her eyes directly level with his penis.

"Would you like me to help you get started Sam?" She reached out and cupped Sam's balls which immediately constricted and retreated up into his body. Mrs. Aames had a brief moment to smile knowingly, then positioned her face right up against Sam's volcano. He erupted hot spunk all over her, without even rubbing his shaft.

"Oh thank you Sam. Oh this is so wonderful." She began rubbing it into her cheeks and her nose, up over her forehead, down to her chin, under her eyes, her top lip, there was so much of it she could even massage it into her neck.

When she was done, she made a point of licking each of her fingers in turn. "Mmm, positively yummy Sam. You're such a good boy."

Mrs. Aames stood up and took hold of Sam by his cock and led him into the hall and into the downstairs bathroom, where she ran a cloth under the hot water tap and wiped him clean. "I think we should go have some tea now, what do you think Sam?"

Sam didn't really have words or emotions to convey how he was feeling. His girlfriend's mother was dressed in a way that was turning him on and she had just rubbed all his semen in her face, licked it off her hands and led him by his cock to wash it clean. Now, he didn't know for sure, but he kind of suspected there wasn't a cast iron, set in stone way to feel about something like that. He just said, "Sure!"

Sam sat alongside Zoe while he ate sandwiches, then cake. Zoe had a smile on her face throughout. Mrs. Aames too; she could hardly take her eyes off Sam's soft cock and she kept dreamily touching her face to feel his semen drying on her skin.

"Zoe tells me your mother is very nice."

"My mother? Yes. She is."

"Do you love her Sam?"

"Of course, she's my Mum."

"And what about your father?"

"Dad? I see him occasionally. He and Mum split up when I was fifteen. He shacked up with his secretary."

"So it's just you and your Mum at home?"

Sam nodded.

"What's her name?"

"Valérie."

"Valerie?"

"Yeah, it's actually Valérie, with an accent on the E. She's part French."

"Ah, tu parle français?"

"Bien sur, je parle français très bien. Maman me tuerait si je ne l'ai pas."

Mrs. Aames just sat there biting her lip. "I'm sorry Sam. You caught me out! I only know un peu, un petit peu, the petitest peu! I got the bit about you speak it very well, but there was something about your mother?"

"Oh, right!" Sam laughed. "Yeah, I just said Mum would kill me if I didn't!"

"Ah right, of course!"

"And how is your mother?"

"Um, okay I guess."

"She's been without a man for a long time?"

"A long time, yes."

"Mm, you must give me her number. If you and Zoe are to be together, we should probably get to know each other sooner or later. I could maybe have her over for tea one day."

"I'm sure she'd like that very much Mrs. Aames."

"I'm sure she would, Sam."

Sam was erect again. He had been growing all throughout tea, trying to control himself, but penises were not terribly amenable when excited.

"Okay, Sam, would you take the dishes out to the kitchen please? You can just leave them on the counter top."

"Sure, okay."

Sam stood and began clearing away the plates and glasses. He had to make three trips but he managed not to break anything. By the time he returned to the living room, he was fully erect again, his penis pointing straight out in front of him.

"Sam honey, why don't you sit down on the edge of the coffee table?"

"Um, okay."

"That's a good boy. Now just lie back dear."

"Um, what are you going to do?"

"Now now Sam. Ours is not to reason why, ours is but to do or die. Tennyson."

Sam knew that was a misquote, but thought he'd be a pedant to correct. He just lay back, his cock perpendicular to his torso. Next thing he knew, Zoe lifted her leg over Sam and sat astride his chest.

"Hey Zoe!"

"Hey Sam!"

They smiled at one another, he looking up at her, she looking down. Then Sam felt a hand on his cock. He knew it wasn't his own and he could see it wasn't Zoe's, because both of those were on her lap. He could feel fingers gently rubbing up the underside of his shaft, at the top, Mrs. Aames rubbed her finger in the highly sensitive area under his tip, where his frenulum was situated. He was moist and glistening there and the feel of his girlfriend's mother's fingers sliding around under there was just highly erogenous.

Zoe put her hands on the hem of her skirt and lifted it up for Sam to see underneath. The moment her bush became visible was the moment Mrs. Aames peeled back Sam's foreskin and took him into her mouth, flicking around his head with her tongue, sucking on his flared mushroom head, her hand taking control of his balls as she massaged them, then running her lips all down the outside of his shaft and then up the other side.

Sam pushed his finger into Zoe's fur and felt the heat radiating from her. She was dripping on him, down his fingers in a steady trickling stream. He felt for her clit and began to rub it with his thumb, in circles. Mrs. Aames sank her mouth down onto his cock. He could feel that she still had her tonsils. How fucked up was this? Sam didn't care. From his point of view, he'd gone to heaven without having to die first.

Sam felt Zoe's thighs clench as her bum lifted off Sam's chest and she began to quiver and shake. Mrs. Aames let go of Sam's balls and her mouth slipped off his cock with a slurping pop. She couldn't leave him like that, he was 95 per cent there. No, no, she couldn't, where was she? Sam tried to look around Zoe but couldn't see past the hem of her skirt.

Oh wait, she's back. It took Sam longer than a second to realise it wasn't her mouth. It was wet, it was warm, it was soft, but it wasn't her mouth. Realising the only thing it could be, was too much for Sam's mind to handle and he began to blast his hot cum into what he very much suspected was his girlfriend's mother's vagina. The first he had ever known without protection, just unadulterated, natural, as God and the Catholic Church had intended.

A moment later, Mrs. Aames came and stood alongside her daughter, fully clothed. Sam stared up into her eyes and saw that her face was flushed. She was biting her lower lip, the abject naughtiness of what she'd just done, evident in her expression. Zoe held out her hand for her mother to hold. Then, spotting something on her mother's leg, running down past her knee, Zoe reached out and scraped it up with her finger, winding it around to keep it from falling. It was Sam's sperm. She sucked it into her mouth, causing Sam to shudder once more. Zoe and Mrs. Aames both turned together to look behind them at Sam's lower body; he had just had another involuntary orgasm and deposited a puddle of sperm on his belly.




Clothed Female, Naked Sam



When they both turned back to Sam, they were smiling widely. Mrs. Aames scooped up some of the sperm on Sam's belly and rubbed it into her daughter's face, much as she had rubbed it into her own, earlier on. Zoe reached down and scooped up another helping of sperm that was running down her mother's legs. It was extra runny because it was mixed with her mother's juices. She held her finger up and Mrs. Aames sucked it into her mouth.

Three milkings was the limit for Sam, who remained naked while Zoe and her mother wore their school maam clothes. They had Sam do some odd jobs around the house, things that a man was good for - heights and heavy lifting. They both followed him everywhere and watched his swaying cock intently.

Bringing his clothes back to the living room, Mrs. Aames and Zoe both helped Sam to dress.

"I've very much enjoyed meeting you Sam. You're such a nice boy and I know now that you do indeed love my daughter very much. I'm happy for you to continue seeing her on just one condition."

"What's that Mrs. Aames?"

"Every Wednesday, you are to come here for tea, much like today. We will wear these clothes for you and you will leave your clothes at the door. Once you come inside, you will take them off in the entrance hall and I will put them away for you. You will remain naked, but I think you've seen tonight that that's not such an unpleasant experience. At the end of the evening, you may have your clothes back. You may visit Zoe here at any time, but the same rule applies Sam. You are not to wear clothes in my house. You must be nude at all times with the only exception of coming and going. Does that suit you Sam?"

Sam leaned in to Mrs. Aames, giving her a kiss on the cheek and then a big hug. "That suits me perfectly Mrs. Aames. Thank you so much for having me. And tea was delicious."

"I'll give your Mum a ring in the next few days. See when she's available to come round."

"I'll let her know."

"You do that Sam, bye bye."

Sam and Zoe stood at the door for a few minutes as they said their goodbyes and their I love yous.

**

The following Tuesday, Valerie Knight was getting ready. Mrs. Aames had indeed called and invited her for tea. Sam was in the kitchen eating the meal that his mother had prepared for him.

"You be good while I'm gone."

"Always Mum. Have fun. Love you."

"Love you too honey."

Sam hadn't masturbated all week. He'd seen Zoe twice more, once on Friday and once on Sunday and she had implored him to save it up. It wasn't easy. With his mother out for the evening and the house all to himself, coupled with the anticipation of what the next day might bring, Sam desperately wanted to jerk one out.

His text went off. It was from Zoe.

Be a good boy tonight Sam. Hands off my cock!

Well, that sure told him. It was her cock now. And there was something about that notion he liked. It was her cock.

Mrs. Knight arrived home a little after seven. There was something about her that was different. Something in the way she looked at her son. She'd just spent the evening with Zoe and Mrs. Aames and Sam could only guess as to what went on there.

"Did you enjoy yourself Mum?"

Valerie came and sat down next to her son on the sofa. "I did. Zoe's such a lovely girl and Sandy is a charming woman."

"Sandy? Is that her name?"

"She didn't tell you?"

"No. I called her Mrs. Aames all evening. She didn't offer any other name."

"Well, it's Sandy. But if she hasn't invited you to call her that, you must stick with what you're calling her now."

"I will Mum."

"So? Do you like her?"

"I love her, Mum. You know that."

"Sandy? You love Sandy."

"Oh, no, I thought you meant Zoe. I love Zoe, Mum."

"Well I know that! I'm asking if you like her mother."

"Well, she's kind of cool I guess."

"Cool? In what way Sam?"

"Oh, you know, just... she's not all uptight and rigid like I thought she was going to be."

"She put you at ease then?"

"You could say that."

"She's invited me over again next week."

"Next Tuesday?"

"Naturally. Although, since you're going on Wednesday, it would probably make more sense if we just went together."

"No!"

"What?"

"I just mean, you probably talk about different things, you know, old women stuff."

Mrs. Knight scoffed. "Thank you. No offence taken. Glad to know my own son thinks I'm some kind of Granny."

"Oh, I didn't mean that Mum, I'm sorry. I just..."

"It's alright sweetheart, I know what you meant."

Sam breathed a sigh of relief.

"No, it's probably best that you go on Wednesdays and I go on Tuesdays and maybe sometimes, we'll have them both over here, what do you say to that Sam?"

"Uh... cool?"

Mrs. Knight smiled and went and changed into something more comfortable. Sam soon went up to his room and lay on his bed thinking of tomorrow.

When Sam came downstairs the following morning, his mother was already in the kitchen preparing breakfast. Sam's heart leapt into his mouth when he saw what she was wearing.

She was dressed for work in her navy suit, which she often wore. She was a personal assistant after all and she usually wore a business suit. What was different however was her blouse. Usually she wore blouses without a collar, even T shirts, or if she did wear them with a collar, she'd always wear them wide open to show off her cleavage a little. Today she had on her off white blouse, ecru, kind of beige. And she had buttoned it all the way to the collar.

Her hair was still down though, she hadn't put it up in a bun, even though sometimes she did. And she wasn't wearing a brooch either. That was a relief. He shouldn't read anything into it. Just coincidence. He'd seen her wearing those clothes before, the suit many times. Just a little weird about the collar, that's all, she didn't usually do that. He couldn't actually think of any time she'd done it.

"Hi Mum."

"Hi sweetie, sleep well?"

"Yeah, kind of."

"Good. Your toast will be ready in a minute."

"Thanks Mum."

"You're welcome sweetie. I've got to go, got an early start. Don't forget you're going to the Aames' tonight. I probably won't see you before you go, so if I'm not back, have a good time okay? Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

Uh... that may be kind of hard! "Sure thing Mum! Love you."

"Love you too. See you later."

Standing at the front door, Sam rang the doorbell. Mrs. Aames came to the door wearing a white blouse, a black skirt and a grey cardigan. Again, her hair in a bun, three inch heels and no stockings. She wasn't wearing a brooch.

She let him inside and gave him a look. He knew what that meant and he immediately began undressing. "Zoe home?" he asked, making small talk. He shed his last item of clothing, his knickers and handed the pile to Mrs. Aames.

"She's in the living room Sam, you can go right in."

"Thank you Mrs. Aames. Oh... and Mrs. Aames?"

"Yes dear?"

"You look lovely today."

A smile came to her face. "Thank you Sam. Kind words always go a long way."

Sam stood naked at the door to the living room. Zoe was standing in front of the fireplace. She was dressed identically to her mother, the same black, white, grey combo. Her hair was also in a bun, but she wasn't wearing a brooch today either.

"No brooch?"

"Yes Sam, we were just waiting for you to get here. We thought you might like to put them on for us. And by the looks of your erection, I think I may be right!"

Sam walked over to Zoe and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her passionately while her mother took his clothes upstairs. His penis pressed into her and she took hold of it and squeezed his tip. "I love you Zoe."

"I know you do Sam."

"Right then Sam," Mrs. Aames returned to the room. "First thing first. Could you help me pick out a brooch please Sam."

She stood by the side of the door where there was a writing desk. Laid out across the surface must have been at least thirty brooches, of different sizes, colours, designs. There were various gems, sapphires, emeralds, rubies and amber stones, opals and obsidian. Some of them were small and plain, some patterned, some had wings or a horizontal pin. There were even some of those real old lady kind, like a face in white set into a pale blue oval. Some even had more than one section and were linked by a thin chain. There were just so many, even an expensive looking gold sovereign.

"That one," said Sam, pointing to a ruby stone set in a gold surround with a horizontal gold bar sticking out an inch either side.

"Mm, that's a nice one," replied Mrs. Aames. "Could you help me put it on Sam?"

Mrs. Aames lifted her head and pushed her neck towards Sam. He opened out the pin behind the brooch and took hold of her buttoned collar, before carefully sliding it in underneath and back through to fasten it.

Mrs. Aames felt it with her hand. "Mm, perfect Sam, thank you. Now one for Zoe."

Sam had another look "Sapphire... to go with your eyes Zoe."

"Good call Sam. You know what... now that you mention eyes, that emerald one would look beautiful on your mother, don't you think Sam? I couldn't help noticing her beautiful green eyes when she was here yesterday. Why don't you take it home for her?"

"Oh, thank you Mrs. Aames. I'm sure she'll love it. Thank you very much. I uh... don't seem to have a pocket to put it in right now."

"That's alright Sam, I'll give it to you before you go."

Zoe was waiting patiently for Sam to fix her brooch. She smiled continuously as he figured out the mechanism. It was different to her mother's in that it had a spring loaded clip on the back and just slid down over her top button.

"Thank you Sam."

"My pleasure Zoe. You do look lovely. Both wearing the same outfit."

"Yes, we're twins today Sam. Come on, let's take care of you, so we can eat. Oh! But one other thing Sam. We thought we'd try something a little different today. I was passing this shop in town on Saturday and I couldn't believe what they had in the window. I thought of you and I just had to buy them." She opened the writing desk drawer and pulled out a pair of steel handcuffs. "Do you mind?"

Sam shook his head. He was speechless. They were going to cuff him, naked. He was going to be their nude prisoner. His cock jerked up and down all by itself, such was his level of excitement

Mrs. Aames cuffed Sam and then joined Zoe on her knees in front of him. She cupped hold of his balls again and Zoe pushed back his foreskin. They both leaned in at the same time, Zoe swallowing the head of his penis and Mrs. Aames dropping lower to suck one of his balls into her mouth.

This was so debauched. But Sam was loving it. Living the dream, baby! Yeah!

He felt a finger find his back passage and slip inside. He wasn't sure who it belonged to, but either way, he wasn't going to complain.

"Um... Zoe, Mrs. Aames?" Sam squirmed. "Nearly..."

They both stopped their oral manipulation and waited eagerly for the first spurt, competing for his first load, which should be a big one if he'd been true to his word and not masturbated all week. They would soon find out.

Sam blew. The force of the first blast was so powerful hitting Mrs. Aames in the eye that she fell backwards and Zoe moved her face so that Sam shot the rest of his load over her instead.

"Mmm," she moaned.

Mrs. Aames, got back onto her knees. "Hey, no fair, you've got more than me!"

Zoe just smiled as she massaged Sam's creamy goodness into her skin. "Oh, I think there's plenty here for both of us Mum. Wow, Sammy. You really did save it for us." Zoe scooped a little off her face into her palm and splattered it onto her mother's cheek. "There you go Mum, share and share alike."

Sam smiled as he watched these two beautiful, sexy women, mother and daughter, dressed to kill, massage his creamy white goodness into their faces as though it were skin cream.

Sam sat on the sofa between mother and daughter. With his hands behind his back, he had to rely on them to feed him. Mrs. Aames had cut the sandwiches into little triangles, just bite sized pieces. She popped one into his mouth.

"Thank you Mrs. Aames."

"You're welcome Sam, always my pleasure."

Next Zoe fed him one, then Mrs. Aames offered him a sip of his drink. Zoe put the next triangle in her mouth and held it between her lips. She pressed them to Sam and he ate the sandwich. As they'd been alternating, every other, Sam turned to Mrs. Aames, only to find that she too had placed the bite sized sandwich in her mouth. Sam leant in for it, his lips briefly touching those of his girlfriend's mother.

When Sam turned back to Zoe, he found that she was still chewing. He figured he'd give her time to get the next one and pop that between her teeth, but then she did something even more surprising, she leaned in to kiss him, open mouthed and deposited the partially chewed sandwich in his mouth. At the same time she placed her hand over his erection and ran her fingers down his steely shaft.

Mrs. Aames didn't follow suit, with the chewing, maybe that was for the best, it would have been a bit icky coming from her, but Zoe continued to feed him that way. Clearing up was more difficult, because they didn't release his hands, so Sam had to make more trips to clear up, taking just one item at a time and carefully placing it on the kitchen counter.

He nearly made it too, but the last plate he dropped and it smashed on the kitchen floor. Mrs. Aames and Zoe came out to see the mess and both stood in the doorway, shaking their heads with disappointment.

"Oh Sam, that was one of my best plates. How am I ever going to teach you to be more careful?"

Zoe whispered in her mother's ear and a smile washed over both of their faces. Mrs. Aames went back to the living room while Zoe smiled at Sam, lifting the hem of her skirt and flashing her hairy bush at him. When she heard her mother coming back, she straightened up.

Sam's eyes bulged when he saw her holding a short length of bamboo, about eighteen inches long. She pulled out a chair and sat down, eyeing Sam.

"Come here now, please." Sam inched closer to Mrs. Aames. "Bend over my lap Sam."

"What are you going to do Mrs. Aames?"

"I don't like to do this Sam, but how else will you learn to take care with other people's property?"

"I'm sorry Mrs. Aames, really I am."

"I know you are Sam. But this punishment will just reinforce the need to take care in future."

"Yes Mrs. Aames." Sam eased himself over her lap. He felt her bare hand first, just smoothly rubbing over the target area.

"I'd like you to count them out please Sam. I think ten is only fitting for a first offence, don't you?"

She didn't give Sam time to respond, he heard the disturbance of air and then a sharp, seething pain throughout his backside.

"One!"

She continued until all ten had been administered, then rubbed his backside with her hand again, exploring downwards between his legs, just letting her fingers graze over his balls. She tickled them for a few moments until she felt his hard cock pressing into the channel between her legs.

"Okay, up you get."

Zoe helped Sam return to his feet. As Mrs. Aames went to return the cane, Zoe gave Sam a kiss on the mouth. "Are you okay? Did it hurt?"

"Not too much. I'm fine. Did you enjoy the show?"

"Oh God Sam. Last week after you went, Mum and I went to our rooms and didn't see each other again all night. I could hear her moaning and I bet she could hear me too. You have no idea how good you are making us both feel."

"I love you."

"Love you too!" Zoe kissed his nose just as Mrs. Aames made her presence known.

"Okay Sam. That backside looks a little sore. Maybe some pleasure will help you get over the pain."

"Yes Mrs. Aames."

"Zoe, bring Sam back into the living room."

Zoe grabbed the end of Sam's cock and led the way.

"Okay Sam, up onto the coffee table. Stand on it please."

Sam got up, his erect cock now at breast height for the two ladies.

"Now, you don't have your hands free, so Zoe and I had best do this."

This time, Zoe cupped his balls and began massaging them, Mrs. Aames went around behind Sam and caressed his reddened ass cheeks. As Zoe continued to fondle his balls, her mother spread Sam's ass cheeks and flicked her tongue up the groove between them. Sam twitched his whole lower half. That was some intense feeling.

"How's it going in front Zoe? Are his balls getting tight?"

"Yes Mum."

Sam felt her tongue again and then she prodded it at his back door. One firm push and she was partially in, Sam clamped his cheeks on Mrs. Aames' tongue as his balls receded from Zoe's hands and began to bellow out hot spunk.

Zoe caught it all in her cupped fingers and Mrs. Aames came around and grabbed Sam's cock, making sure to milk it for every last drop into her daughter's hands.

"Turn around please Sam."

Sam did as Mrs. Aames instructed and then he felt Zoe's hands spreading his cum all over his own backside."

"It'll help with the healing Sam. There's a lot of protein in semen that will aid skin recovery."

On leaving, Mrs. Aames handed Sam the emerald brooch to give to his mother and Zoe reminded him not to jerk off. She'd be seeing him on Saturday and they were going to have a day as regular boyfriend and girlfriend and partake in lots of sex.

Arriving home, Sam found his mother spread out on the sofa. She was still wearing her suit but he was pleased to see that she had unbuttoned her collar and two other buttons. It was just his mind getting the better of him that made him think Mrs. Aames had said something to her and thinking of it now, it just seemed so silly.

"Hard day Mum?"

"Long day, sweetie. We had a potential new customer and I had to try and make a good impression today."

"You make a good impression every day Mum. I'm sure you have nothing to worry about."

She smiled at him. "Come here you." She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a hug, kissing his cheek a few times in the process. "Did you have a nice tea?"

"It was lovely."

"Good, I'm glad you enjoyed. Sandy makes for a wonderful host."

"That she does Mum, that she does. In fact, she um... she gave me something to give to you. Said it matched your eyes Mum."

Sam took out the brooch and handed it to his mother.

"That's so pretty." She attached it to her jacket lapel.

"Is that where you'd wear it Mum?"

"Where else would I wear it?"

"Um..." Sam pointed to his own neck.

"Oh, on my collar? I don't know Sam. Hmn? What do you think? Shall I give it a try?"

Sam's smile told Valerie all she needed to know.

"Okay then, for you sweetie."

Valerie did up the open button just above her chest. Then her fingers found the next one and she did that up too. Smiling at Sam, she fastened her collar. "Could you help me sweetie?"

Valerie gave Sam the opened brooch and he took hold of her collar as he threaded the pin through behind.

"There!"

"How do I look?"

"Beautiful Mum. You always look beautiful."

"Oh come here, baby!"

She grabbed him and hugged him tight.

"I love you Mum. You know that, don't you?"

She looked at him, cupping his face between her hands, while he held both of his around her back. She had a tear in her eye as she nodded, leaning in to give him a kiss on his mouth, just a peck, but as a show of genuine affection.

She leant in to hug him again and Sam could feel himself getting hard, so pushed his backside out so he wouldn't press into his mother.

Valerie walked over to the mirror to take a look at her new brooch. Sam sat on the sofa to help soften his erection. Valerie posed from side to side and then swept her hair back in a ponytail. Checking out her look again, she wound her ponytail up into a bun and reached in her pocket for a clip. She turned to Sam. "There, how about that?"




Clothed Woman at a Nude Male Shoot



The following is a true story. Names have been changed to protect the innocent (or not so innocent).

I never thought I would be writing a story for an erotic website such as yours but a recent experience I had has forced me to do so.

Let me first describe myself. I am a 27-year-old brunette with a nice figure and ample breasts. I am told my best feature is my legs, and I take great pride in showing them off - short shorts, short skirts, sexy stockings, you name it.

My attractive figure and pretty face has allowed me to always flirt with hot guys and enjoy their company.

Even though I have a boyfriend, I feel no shame in chatting with a handsome fellow every now and then - hey, it's not cheating.

But anyway, to my recent experience.

My girlfriend Kelly, another attractive brunette who I am always competing with to gain men's attention, called me up one day and told me she had gotten a job photographing nude male models. 

I was stunned.

She had long been a photographer for a local newspaper but had gotten bored with that position. She wanted to branch out and do other things.

Photographing hot guys, hot naked guys, didn't seem like a bad gig I guess.

After she had gotten settled in with this new job, she asked me if I would like to join her one day at work.

I laughed and said no way. I actually thought she was joking.

I couldn't imagine sitting in a room with a naked guy, staring at his bod while my friend snapped tons of pictures of him.

She was, however, very persistent, and I finally gave in to her request.

I put on a pair of tight, skimpy jean shorts and a white top and headed out the door one afternoon to take her up on her offer.

I joined her in her studio at her house that day and waited for the models to show up.

She was photographing three different men that day, and she said they were all hunks.

Now my boyfriend is cute and good in bed, but she described these guys as absolute studs.

I felt kind of guilty being there, since I would probably freak if my boyfriend went to a strip club where the women take their clothes off, but I figured what the hell.

It's not like he was going to find out.

Once all the men arrived, Jess, my friend, had them strip down to just jeans and white T-shirts.

The first guy's name was Ronald, about 6-2, great upper body, very sexy. He had dark hair, a lot of muscles in places I didn't know had muscles.

The second guy's name was Rich, a blonde hottie with an even bigger upper body than Ronald's.

Both immediately stripped down to their underwear, and I could see each had nice bulges in front.

The third gentleman intrigued me. He was black. 

Now I had never slept with a black man before in my life, and had always been curious about what they say about black guys having bigger dicks than white men.

I thought this afternoon at Jess' would provide me with a nice, innocent way of exploring my curiosities.

The black man approached me and kissed my hand, which I thought was very sweet, He introduced himself as Jamal.

He had green eyes, a shaved head, and a beautiful face.

He had not as muscular an upper body as the other two men but I was about to find out Jamal was a lot different than the other two men when it came to their lower bodies.

Preparing for a set of shots, Ronald and Rich both were told politely by Jess to take off their underwear.

I took a deep breath.

I just still felt awkward and at the same time very aroused about being in a room with two naked guys while I was still clothed. It felt like it was kind of unfair to them, but oh well, why not.

They removed their underwear, and I could see both had nice-sized dicks, plump and long, and both hung down a bit against their balls.

They both remained completely flaccid, as erections are considered a little distasteful by the magazine Jess works for.

I couldn't help but stare at their dicks the whole time Jess took the photos, and Jamal noticed this and sat down next to me.

He was still wearing jeans and a T-shirt, so I felt comfortable talking to him.

It felt good to have at least one clothed guy in the room, just to make things a little normal.

Jamal noticed my green eyes had casually been staring at the two mens' nice-sized cocks, and he said he felt sorry for them having such small penises.

I thought that was kind of odd since I thought Ronald and Rich were pretty well-hung.

Jess finished with her shots of the two white men and asked Jamal to get undressed.

Jess snickered and covered her face with her hands.

I asked her what was so funny and she said “wait til you see this.”

Jamal took off his jeans and out flopped a large black tube that hung down a good distance between his legs.

I gasped. Jess laughed.

The thing could not be a real penis, I thought to myself. It was long, fat, and as thick as my forearm and it wasn't even erect.

I kept saying it couldn't be real, but Jamal and Jess assured me it was.

The other two men looked on and were a bit jealous, but couldn't help but admire Jamal's dong.

I couldn't stop staring at it. I had never seen anything like it. It looked like an optical illusion, something produced by special effects.

But it was in fact real. I was impressed with the sizes of the dicks on Ronald and Rich, but Jamal's dick hung nearly halfway to his knees.

It swung back and forth as he walked.

The next photo shoot they were going to do was entitled “only one muscle counts,” and it was a playful spread of a hot woman admiring the size of Jamal's big dick while the two white men watched jealously.

Both white men had bigger upper bodies than Jamal did, but Jamal had a much larger cock. And the spread was supposed to display that in blatant fashion.

The stunning part of it was that Jess wanted me to be the hot woman in the photos.

At first I denied, since I didn't want my boyfriend to find out I was doing this. But Jess said she would just keep the photos to ourselves and it would just be for fun. 

She had me walk back and forth out in front of the three naked men, and had me stare at their dicks like I was comparing sizes.

Of course there was no comparison.

She then had me sit in a chair with my legs crossed and play with Jamal's penis with my bare feet. I would put my foot up underneath it and then let it fall down between his legs. It swung down like a big salami. I couldn't help but comment that he was, as they say, “hung like a horse.”

The two white guys were supposed to stare in fascination at Jamal's donkey dick, and that is what they did. Neither of them had probably seen anything like it either.

Jess kept clicking away as I toyed with Jamal's penis and then she surprised me by telling me to start playing with it with my hands.

Again I hesitated, but gave in. I figured no on would find out.

Jamal's dong was awfully heavy, and so fat and long, and I asked rhetorically how he fit it in his pants.

He actually gave me an explanation.

He told me he rarely wore underwear, that he wore baggy jeans or pants and let his schlong hang down one of the pant legs. He was more comfortable this way. 

Further questions about his horse-sized penis came forth from my inquisitive mind, and he obliged me by answering them.

I wondered about when he noticed his special gift, and he said his dick started getting really big when he was like 9 or 10, that he already knew he was kind of different from the other boys.

I asked him with a giggle if it ever was somewhat awkward being so well hung, and he told me it used to be somewhat of a burden when he was on the high school swim team and it looked like he had a grapefruit bulging out in front of his trunks.

The more we talked about his dick, the more aroused he got, and I noticed his dork started getting longer and longer and as a result my strokes got longer and longer.

It felt like I had a baseball bat in my hands, and I started to play around with it by letting it go and seeing his big prick bob up and down in front of him.

I let it settle, and noticed that in its fully erect state it did not point straight up. The laws of gravity did not allow such a huge dick to do so.

The head was enormous, almost as big as my fist. Veins bulged out on the sides of his penis, and because he got so aroused his balls got even bigger and the sack seemed to hang down almost as far as his schlong did earlier.

His balls were huge, almost as big as golf balls.

Now I know not all black men are as endowed as Jamal, and hell, maybe there are some white guys out there that are freakishly well-hung too. 

But I just know what I saw, and Jamal had a giant cock. So maybe it is natural for me to now think that black men are huge.

After I played with Jamal's prick and Jess snapped off some shots of me stroking it with both hands (and there was probably room for another pair), she handed me a ruler and asked me to measure his dick.

It was the only prop she brought out for the photos, but it was affective.

She got in close so she could get good shots of me measuring his penis, and as I placed the ruler along the top of his shaft I found it to be almost a full 12 inches.

Wanting to be very accurate, I looked as close as I could and saw that it was 11 and three quarter inches.

Surely the biggest cock I have ever seen.

Not only was the measuring thing good for the photos, but it also satisfied my curiosity about how big Jamal's dick really was.

Now unfortunately the photos stopped there, and after getting so aroused and feeling my nipples starting to stick out, I was sad to see Jamal and the other two men get dressed and leave for the day.

Jamal had to wait for his giant erection to subside, and when it did, he tucked his penis in his pants and headed out the door.

Sorry if you were expecting more, like handjobs and blowjobs, but I don't know if I could ever cheat on my boyfriend.

I plan to see Jamal again at an upcoming shoot, so maybe I will have more to tell.



Clothes Make the Man



"What time are we meeting Traci?" Michael called out from over the sound of the shower.

"7ish, at Peabody's. It's just going to be us. Everyone else is busy." Jenny replied. She is standing naked in front of the mirror, putting the finishing touches on her make-up. Jenny is an attractive brunette, but not distractingly so. She walks into the closet as she hears the water stop and picks out her clothes for the night and walks out and lays them across the bed. She reaches into her dresser and picks out her lingerie, a leopard print bikini panty with matching bra. Not super sexy but nice and comfortable for dancing. She moves back to the bed as Michael moves in behind her, towel drying his dark hair, still naked as well. He slips in behind Jenny, brushing his flaccid dick into her bottom as he peers over her shoulder.

"Nice outfit. How about leaving the underwear at home?"

Jenny laughed. "Feeling a little frisky are you?" as a devilish idea came to her.

"You know it."

"Okay, I'll meet you half way. I'll leave the bra at home."

"Oh, come on baby. Don't wear the panties either."

"I'm not, you are."

"What!"

Michael feigned surprise but Jenny has long known about his thing for panties. Not quite reaching the level of fetish, but he clearly has a fascination with them. More than once Jenny had walked in on him unexpectedly, and found him masturbating with a pair of her panties in his hand.

"No way baby." But even as he protested, Jenny could feel him becoming erect behind her.

Jenny picked up the panties and turned around. She allowed the material to brush across the sensitive head of his now fully erect dick and leaned down and sucked one of Michael nipples into her mouth. He had the most sensitive nipples for a man she had ever experienced. 

Pulling away she purred, "Do it for me baby. Who knows what might happen when we get home?"

Jenny and Michael got to Peabody's just after 7 and grabbed a small rounded booth on the backside of the dance floor and ordered drinks. The waitress was just bringing them when Traci arrived. Dark blond, attractive, recently divorced, Traci was really no more attractive than Jenny in most people's mind, yet she had that aura about her that just seemed to attract men like a moth to light. It's ironic that her marriage ended because her husband Bill was having an affair with a co-worker. Traci sat down and ordered a drink and they discuss their week and catch up. A couple of drinks later a slow song comes on and Jenny grabs her husband and pulls him onto the dance mainly to tease him. She moves in close and whispers into his ear.

"Can you feel my bare breasts against your chest? I've seen some men checking out my hard nipples poking against my blouse. You know, I bet if I opened my legs a bit, they could see my bare pussy, since you are wearing my panties. How do they feel?

Discreetly Jenny slid a hand down. There was a noticeable lump in Michael slacks. Giving it a quick squeeze, Jenny smiled, "Guess I know the answer to that."

The song ended and they returned to Traci at the table.

Jenny asked, "Sweetie, we have not seen the waitress in a while, it's so busy. How about going to the bar and get us all another drink?

Michael walked away, adjusting himself as best he could. 

Michael returned with the drinks and sits down. Traci is smiling at him like the cat who swallowed the canary, but says nothing. Shortly she excuses herself to go to the ladies room. Jenny tells him, "Traci doesn't feel she should drive home so she will spend the night with us."

A look of disappointment crosses Michael's face. "But?"

"Don't worry baby, she's a heavy sleeper. I know from our girl's trip to New York. She slept through the TV blaring all night after a few drinks." Jenny squeezed his bulge. 

Traci returned a few minutes later. Another slow song came on. Traci grabbed Michael's hand and pulled him onto the floor. She moves in close to him, in fact she pressed against his constantly semi-hard dick and stayed there. A minute later she asked,

"How do you like it?"

"This song, it's okay I guess."

"No, I mean wearing Jenny's panties."

Michael froze and looked over to the table. Jenny grinned wickedly and waved.

Traci started moving against Michael again and Michael couldn't deny how great it felt.

"Rub your hand down my back." Still stunned that Jenny would tell Traci his secret, Michael did as Traci asked, all the way to the top of her shapely ass.

"What do you feel?"

"Nothing"

"Exactly. Give me your hand."

Michael did as asked and felt Traci push some material into his hand.

"Go to the Men's Room and change into mine."

Helplessly Michael looked again to Jenny who smiled and nodded yes.

Even though he was in a stall, Michael waited until the bathroom was empty before sliding Jenny's panties down his legs, the front damp with his pre-cum. Next he took Traci's panties into his hands. They were a semi-sheer tanga. He felt the crotch, it was wet. Instinctively, he brought them to his face and inhaled her scent. He so badly wanted to wrap them around his now throbbing erection, instead he pulled them up his legs, forcing his hard erection into the material before pulling his slacks up and returning to the table. As he approached Jenny slid out, briefly opening her legs as she got out, her skirt pushed high on her thighs, flashing her pussy to him. He slid into the booth and Jenny slid back inside, Michael between Traci and herself.

"Jesus Jenny, I saw your pussy."

"So did the couple at the next table. I think they liked it."

Michael looks over to the table and a man and woman smile and tip their glasses in salute. Michael leans into Jenny and whispers, "Where the hell is this going?"

Jenny moves her mouth against Michael's ear and he jumps. "I'm not sure Sweetie, but it's been quite a trip so far. My pussy is on fire."

Jenny reaches her hand down beneath the table into Michael's lap, only to find Traci's hand already there. The two women smile at each other and lightly rub their nails and fingers across the bulging fabric of Michael's slacks. After about 15 minutes of their attention Michael is so hard it hurts. Finally Jenny says, "Let's go home"

Michael is lucky he doesn't wreck the car on the drive home. Jenny sits in the front and continues to rub him ever so lightly, after unbuttoning his shirt. 

"Traci, play with his nipples. He loves that."

Traci leans in across the console from the back and begins to rub and pinch a nipple while her mouth finds his ear and begins to nibble and lick. Somehow they make it back to the house.

"Michael, go to the bedroom and undress. Leave Traci's panties on and lay down on the bed. We will join you in a minute."

Michael goes to the bedroom. His head is spinning and his groin buzzing with electricity. He undresses down to Traci's panties and gets on the bed as told. His dick strains against the lace and nylon of the panties. Most of the top is wet and slick as he has been leaking pre-cum all night.

Traci and Jenny walk into the room holding hands. Michael's dick twitches in response. Jenny is wearing only her blouse, and it's unbuttoned. Traci is wearing only the matching bra to the tanga he has on. Her nipples are hard and push out against the sheer material. They lay on either side of Michael and each leans over and begin to kiss and suck a nipple. Michael squirms then jumps as their hands begin to tickle his balls. Jenny moves down and spreads his legs as she moves between them. She reaches up and pulls the panties down and allows the waistband to cup his balls. She bends lower and starts to lick and suck his balls. 

Traci leans down as well. Michael watches as if in slow motion as her full, luscious lips near his dick. She blows warm breath across the dripping head causing him to shudder before those lips caress and slide the head into her moist mouth.

"AHH GOD!" Michael's climax is instantaneous, and severe. His cum pours like a faucet into Traci's sucking mouth. Her tongue presses and probes against his opening while Jenny's tongue licks away at his balls before moving up to lick some cum that has escaped Traci's mouth and is running down his shaft.

Finally they move away from Michael and resume laying on either side of him. Traci speaks first. "That was great guys, although I kinda hoped I might get Michael's cock in me. It's been awhile."

"Don't worry. I believe he will recover pretty fast."

Jenny leans over Michael's torso and puts a hand behind Traci's neck and pulls her toward her. She kisses Traci, tenderly at first, then with more passion, slipping her tongue into Traci's mouth which she readily accepts and returns her own. Jenny reaches down between Traci's breasts and releases the clasp, allowing her bra to fall to the side, baring her breasts. Jenny feels movement and sees Michael raise his head and begin to kiss Traci's breasts and nipples then turning and doing the same to her own. They continue the foreplay and as she thought, Michael is hard again in no time. Jenny moves Traci around until she is straddling Michael. Traci feels Michael's cock at the entrance to her pussy. She slowly pushes down on it and starts to climax before he is halfway in her. She pushes it the rest of the way in her and grinds through the climax. After its over Jenny, straddles Michael's face, facing Traci, and places her pussy against his mouth. His mouth begins to suck away at her slick flesh as Traci starts to ride his cock as she and Jenny resume kissing.

Michael awakens the next morning in an empty bed. His dick quickly hardens as he recalls the previous night. Jenny and Traci appear at the door wearing towels, both wet from what must have been a shower. Jenny walks to the side of the bed and pulls the sheet back and smiles at his erection. She raises her hand and drops a pair of panties on his stomach.

"Show Traci what you do with my panties when you think I'm not around."

Michael hesitates just a moment. 

"Go ahead," says Traci. "Would it help if we tell you about our shower?"

Jenny and Traci both drop their towels as Michael wraps the panties around his dick and begins to stroke...



Clothes Make the Man



Ellen;

My husband, Bob, is average height which is a little taller than I am. He wears a size 44 suit jacket not because his is that big through the chest but his shoulders are than big. He is about 38 or 39 inches around the chest. Think of an inverted triangle. Why do I say this? I want you to know he is not in any way 'feminine'.

A few years ago, Bob and I were invited to a dinner and dance. It was a chance for me to break out the 'little black dress'. Under it I was wearing a black satin bra. I am a 38 C.

Dinner was good and the dance was fun. When we got home Bob was not ready for the evening to be over. As I undressed, he came up behind me and put his arms around me and started to play with my nipples. I had taken the dress off and I was wearing the bra. I don't know what is was but the sensation of his fingers on my nipples or the material of the bra, but the sensation was unbelievable. My pussy was almost instantly wet. If I had had an orgasm right then I would not have been surprised. 

Bob was steering me to the bed and I was letting him. 

"Don't you want to take that off?"

"No. Hurry up and do me."

At this point, I was not going to take the bra off for anything. His hand was between my legs and I came almost as soon as he touched my pussy.

"Lick me!" Bob went down and was tonguing my clit like there was no tomorrow. I could feel my juices all over his face as he moved side to side. What he did not notice, was me running my fingers over my nipples. The feeling was still there but it was better when Bob did it. With him doing it I did not know how he would flick or pinch them. 

Don't get me wrong, it still felt wonderful! I came once again and as good as the first one!

Bob moved up and I pulled him to my lips for a deep, toes curling kiss. I did not care if his face was covered with my pussy juices or not. 

"In me now!" I could not wait any longer.

Bob slipped his cock in me and he went in so easy it was fantastic. 

He was sitting up and not supporting himself. I fumbled and got his hands in mine. I placed them on my nipples and Bob did not need to be told what to do. 

The third time I came was even better than the last two. I think I was almost insensible during it. 

Bob knows that I like him to stop doing whatever he is doing when I come, so he stopped playing with me nipples. His hands were still on them, though. 

"Are you ok?"

"Give me a minute." That was all I could say for at least that amount of time. 

Bob looked like he was concerned about my welfare. 

"I'm ok. It's this bra. The combination of the material and how you turn me on I could not wait for you to get to me."

"A magic bra", was all he could say. I realized his cock was still buried in me up to his balls and he had yet to come. 

"Here, help me with this." I pushed up and he put his hands on the clasp and undid the bra. 

I slipped it off and held it to his chest. Bob nipples were almost as sensitive as mine. When I wanted him to come inside me all I had to do was play with them and in short order, he would blast off.

I held the bra to his chest and started to flick his nipples. That got him started again and he moved so he was not sitting. It was like then only point of contact between us was his cock in my pussy. 

Just like I like Bob to stop when I come, I stopped playing with his nipples when he came. He laid down on my supported on his elbows. When he had softened and slid out of me, he rolled on to his back. 

"What is that thing made of?"

"Just nylon like a few of my other bras. I don't know what it is but when you rub my nipples through it, it feels like nothing I have ever tried before. "

The feeling was strange, it was smooth but you cloud feel every move your fingers made. 

"Whatever it is, you have to get some more of them. You were all over me as soon as I started to play."

"I have a better Idea. Try it on."

"What! I don't' wear bras!"

"I saw how you reacted when I was pinching your nipples through it. Did it feel good or not?"

"Yeah, it felt very good but I'm a guy and guys don't wear Bras. At least, any I know."

"Look, try it on. Who is going to see or even know? This is our bedroom. Nothing we do here goes outside here. Is that right?"

"Yeah, but a bra!"

"Stop it and slid it up your arms."

He knew I was serious. He sat up and I slipped the straps up his arms and fastened the clasp behind his back. It was a little snug but it fit hen around the chest. The cups were very big. He was acting like I had asked him to go outside naked.

"How does it feel?"

"Strange. I have never had anything like this on before."

"A girl gets used to it. It is part of growing up."

"I know all of that but I'm not a girl."

"No and you never will be. I know how this felt on me when you started and I thought you would like the same thing. I'm right, aren't I?" 

"Well, yes, but a bra!"

"Ok, let's get it off you before you stretch it out that I can't wear it anymore."

He was probably thinking that was the end of it. The next day I was in town and I got a couple more bras just like the one I wore the night before. And I got one a little bigger with a smaller cup. The sales girl asked if I got the wrong side on that one but I said it was a little joke I was playing. She smiled and said nothing more. 

At home that evening, I moved Bob upstairs early and put on a fashion show for him. Since the ones I bought were just like the first one except for color, he expressed satisfaction. 

Then I showed him the other one. I did not put it on, of course. I handed it to him. He took it and looked at it then he looked at me. 

"Yes, I got it for you. This is our bedroom and no one will ever know. It is for us and us alone."

"I'm not getting out of this, am I?'

"Nope. Here, I will show you how to put it on." I showed him that it should but upside down and backwards with the cups in the back. Then the clasp is fastened in the front and then it is slid around so the cups are in the front. Then the straps are slid up the arms and the cups are right side up. Then I told him to check to be sure his nipples are centered. 

Of course, checking his nipples allowed me the opportunity to play a little. He was hard before I could even pull him to the bed. I think you know what happened next.

I had to promise Bob that I would not tell anyone about his bra. We don't use either his or mine every time we screw because we don't want the novelty to grow old. Bob has accepted it and I had to promise him not to try any other items of 'girly' clothing on him.

He is all man but sometimes he wears the bra in the house. 

Bob:

Bob has declined to submit his side of the story. 



Clothes Make the Man







Clothes Make the Woman....Cry



The leaves rustling in the trees as a spring breeze ruffles the fabric of the air. Window open but blind pulled shut, she knows that the last light of the evening should be just streaking across the backyard. 

The twitter of birds as they head to their nests to roost, and the baying of a dog makes her smile. It is a glorious evening, and she is dressing to annoy. 

Her Master has a very specific dress code ...and she is feeling mischievous, positively contrary. She pulls on socks, panties, jeans and a pair of sneakers. All definitely on the list of no nos where it pertains to clothing. Running her fingers over ample breasts, she admires them in the mirror, and slips her arms through the loops of the bra, fastening it and pulling on a t-shirt. This outfit should get her the kind of attention she truly seeks tonight. 

This is not a kiss me softly, pat me on the bottom and make love to me kind of night. She wants wild and wanton...excitement tinged with danger. The kind of night that keeps her on edge, wanting more. 

She arrives late...on purpose, knowing that that by itself is a punishable offense. When he opens the door, the darkness in his eyes causes her to step back. He reaches out for her, his strong hand grabbing her forearm, fingers wrapping around punishing, bruising and he pulls her forward, she loses her balance and lands heavily against him, knocking the very breath from her lungs. 

Gasping for air, his hand still gripping her arm he whispers in her ear, "You are late." Her bottom lip trembles, as she nods, an apology poised to spill out, her mind racing as she rethinks her theory. This may earn her more than she had bargained for. 

Not letting her put voice to the apology that starts to form in her mind, he closes the door pushing her up against it. His lips come down on hers, territorial kisses, meant to mark and claim, not ones of passion. Although there is a veiled lust lurking just below the surface. 

She can feel it in the length of manhood that is pressing hard into her belly, can smell his arousal as well as her own. He pulls back, still gripping that arm tightly and looks her over..starting at her sneaker clad feet, sneering as his eyes rove over the jeans, shaking his head at the fettered breasts, in their bra under the t-shirt. He lets go of her so suddenly that if not for the door behind her, she would have stumbled and fallen to the floor.

He turns and walks away. She watches him as he disappears down the hallway, and listens as the door to the basement creaks open. A shiver of trepidation runs along her spine. A little excitement, a little fear...a lot of hesitancy.

His voice calls out...demanding her immediate compliance, "COME TO ME!" The booming voice pulls her from her reverie and she rushes forward, pausing only momentarily at the top of the stairs...wondering how quickly she can at least remove the bra and panties. 

"NOW!" turns her insides into tightly coiled spasms of panic, her feet take her quickly to the steps, descending into the murky half gloom of the playroom. She stands at the bottom of the stairs, letting her eyes adjust...straining to see where he is. 

A gasp as her eyes fall on his newest acquisition, the wheel. He slaps a leather paddle against his palm...the sound like gunshots in the dungeon, echoing and she bites into her bottom lip to keep from crying out. 

His eyes lock on hers drawing her to him with out need of command. Approaching, she quickly drops to her knees, head down...reaching to kiss the paddle, but he pulls it away. "You come to me dressed like that - you do not deserve to kiss the paddle, nor any part of my body. Stand." His eyes flash in the dim light, twin orbs of menace as he glares at her.

Trembling as she stands...legs loose, almost not able to hold her up...once again she parts her lips, an apology ready...but he stops her...shakes his head and presses cold fingers to her trembling and bitten lips..."Shhhh!"

Still hitting the palm of his hand with the paddle, he walks around her, circling, surveying her from every side, the paddle whistles and her jean clad bottom quivers in the wake of the smack.

Five more in quick succession before he returns to stand in front of her. "You like the way you are dressed...well I will not take your clothes from your body...but before this night is through you will beg me to strip you naked."

He pushes her to the wheel, his hands rough and firm, he straps first wrists, then her ankles, her thighs, waist and head so that she is virtually unable to move. Her nipples swell as the reality hits her...omg...fully dressed and on the wheel...this is truly not what she had imagined as she dressed earlier. 

The paddle lashes at her bottom, her thighs, over and over again. Her traitorous cunt, as ever, fills as the paddle works over her quivering globes.

He turns out the lights and there is silence..not even the whir of a fan...nor a waft of air it would stir. Just her in her tethers, he spins the wheel so that she is almost upside down....and walks away. The silence is deafening, the darkness complete, the pounding of her heart getting louder, til it is the only thing that anchors her to the world. 

What seems like hours go by, and finally she hears him approach, footsteps on the stairs, and then the lights come on..brilliant as day...she blinks and whimpers, wincing from the brightness. He spins the wheel...bringing her upright...and runs his fingers over her back, down to the swell of buttocks. 

The sensation dulled by clothing, unable to even squirm, she wants more...harder touches...needs to feel. Lips parched she asks to be forgiven, as the buzzing starts, it drowns out her pleas. He touches the vibrator to the spread v of her legs, the sensations traveling through the clothes, she can hear the squelch of her wet pussy as it tries to open, to expose that aching clit. The lips stay pressed together, pooling the flow of her juices behind them. 

He presses tighter, bruising her delicate nether lips, her clit dancing but unable to feel the full force, not enough to bring her to the edge...but enough to make her yearn to get there. Unable to resist...she screams out in frustration, "PLEASE!!!!" Her answer is his chuckle. Tears spill from her eyes, as she begs to feel the kiss of the paddle, the sting of the whip...anything that will penetrate the clothing and fire her straining nerve endings. Her legs spread so wide that she cannot even create friction by rubbing them together. The screams of frustration ring out through the night. 

He steps away, leaving her bathed in sweat, panties tucked into the groove of her slit, the crack of her ass, wicking the moisture away from that streaming pussy. Unable to even wriggle against the panties...she begs to be let down, to have her clothing ripped from her body ... "PLEASE!!!!"

She hears the whistle a mere blink before the tip of the whip kisses her inner thighs. Over and over, counting...screaming, at 20, she slumps ... the heat intense as it spreads bringing a fresh wave of sweat cascading over her, a new outpouring from that hungry pussy,

It is long moments before she realizes that she no longer hears the whip slicing the air, before she can breathe in enough air to stop her head from swimming. 

He releases the cuffs from ankles and thighs, she presses her legs together and the cold wet of her panties chills her, makes her shiver. Her waist and head, then her wrists...and she slumps weakly against the wheel. 

He turns her and pushes her to her knees...drives his hard cock into her mouth, past swollen lips, both of her hands captured in one of his...his other hand holding her head steady...fucking her throat ...not letting her get a breath before plunging deep. Gagging, drooling...eyes watering.

With a final hard and urgent thrust, he shoves deep down her throat, past the bend and shoots his load. It rushes down...not even back splashing ... deprived even of the taste of his spunk. He lets go of her head and pulls her to trembling legs, staring into her eyes..."Next time, mind how you dress...and remember the consequences." 

He walks quickly to the stairs, pulling her roughly behind him...at the door...he pauses..."Tomorrow night be here...I trust you will dress accordingly." Without another touch to her quivering body he opens the door and propels her forward. 

Standing on the porch, trembling, wet and unsatisfied...pouting and stamping her foot. Letting a grin cross her face....til tomorrow, sighing softly she reaches back and rubs that spanked rump.

The sun is just sending its final rays of daylight across the sky. Already, there are pockets of deep shadows in the backyard...she watches them deepen...lost in thought. The loons in the lake have started calling to each other, to their young, time to come home to roost for the night. An eagle circles overhead , slowly watching its prey and as it dives she rises from the chair and goes inside. 

Stripping the towel from her body she walks down the hall...the warm air caressing her tub pinked skin....water long dried as she sat basking in the last traces of sunlight. Opening the fridge and reaching for the can of soda...the cool air stiffening her nipples, rolling the cold can across her breasts...shivering as a smile creeps to her lips. "Tonight, he will be pleased with the way I am dressed. Tonight I will get rewarded." she whispers the words aloud and trembles in anticipation. 

Running a dab of perfume along the top edge of her pubic bone...another drop at the start of the Y that forms her ass crack...and one more dab on the beating pulse of her throat, sighing softly, the scent filling her nostrils. 

Black stockings, a denim skirt that barely covers the swell of her quivering bottom and a top, so sheer that it is as if she is wearing nothing at all....if not for the fabric rubbing across those swollen nipples she wouldn't even feel the weight of the scrap of material that drapes over her shoulders. A pair of impossibly high black heels completes the outfit and feeling confident...her pussy already moist, she grabs her keys and climbs into the car. The hum of the engine, the aroma of perfume and sex, she shudders, dipping two fingers into her sopping pussy to ease the tension, being careful not to cum.

Standing on his doorstep....she rings the bell, and patiently awaits his arrival. The night seems ominous as she stands here...tapping her foot...she knocks. Rapping so loud her knuckles sting. Taking a step back, she sees that there are no lights blazing in any window. 

Curiosity over taking her sense of disappointment, she trudges across the lawn in those impossibly high heels, feeling off balance, the spikes digging into the soft earth. Approaching the garage, she rises up on tip toe to peer into the darkened window...her scream cut short as a hand covers her mouth, dragged backwards, off balance she topples into the arms of?....trembling, her voice husky with fear she whispers, "Who are you?"

Several chuckles float to her ears and a sensation not unlike a trickle of icy water on heated flesh ripples along her spine.

'He said you'd be here on time tonight....and to entertain you until he arrives." Her voice gives answer before she can think and a strangled "NO!" escapes her lips. Rough hands grip her legs and shoulders and she is carried around to the back of the garage. A blindfold is slipped over her eyes and the dark night becomes absolute. No light penetrates the edges and her heart beats too fast. 

Ropes are slipped over her wrists and pulled up and out til her feet are just grazing the ground...a mouth slips over her pussy wet and sticky fingers and licks the dried juice...a deep growl pushes from that mouth and teeth dig into her....she cries out, more from shock than pain...the ropes are pulled tighter and her feet lift from the ground. 

More ropes on her ankles and they too are pulled up and out until her skirt pushes up over parted thighs...legs so wide it feels like they will pull apart. The muscles in her thighs dancing, screaming as they are stretched to the point of tearing. The sound of sobbing as her body is suspended...surprised into silence as she realizes that the sobs are coming from her.

There is no need to remove her skirt as it is now little more then a belt, the wind caresses her wet pussy lips, tingles as it moves the fabric across engorged nipples. She pulls, her body twisting to no avail....there is no play in the ropes. 

She hears an odd whistle and turns unseeing eyes in that direction to be rewarded with the kiss of the whip just below the swell of her heaving breasts. A scream tears from her throat and a voice growls, "Scream, scream all you want...there is no one to hear you but us...and we like the sound." 

The second slash takes her just above the nipples...and her body bucks like a wild animal...she can feel herself swaying back and forth. A loud keening, a mere breath before the lash strikes across those hardened nipples, feeling like it cut her right one in half, and a simultaneous strike to the back of her thighs. 

The pain so hot that she cannot force even a whimper from between her gritted teeth. She loses count after 20, her mind reeling as she doubles that number, each whistle gives her twin lashes, front and back. 

The air chilling the wet trails that run down her thighs, and it is several moments before she can breathe. The sounds of the night return to her ears and somewhere off in the distance the croak of frogs and the call of loons bring a normalcy to the night that does not exist.

Long moments pass and and at last her breathing slows, the beating of her heart less of a pounding sound, reduced to a slow trot. Her ears straining to detect any motion...biting her bottom lip as she hears breathing, not her own...so close. . 

Whimpering....nervously twitching in the ropes, her traitorous pussy dripping its sweet lubricating oils. A finger touches and trails through the slippery tracks of her spilling juices, making her moan, the soft touch such a welcome relief after the pain of the lash. 

A hot breath on parted pussy lips, it brushes as light as a feathers touch across that protruding clit. Another long moan as she strains to touch her aching clit to those lips that must be so close...muscles rippling with the effort.

"As much as I'd like to push my tongue to your quivering bits, you do smell delicious, and thrust my fingers into your throbbing cunt...the instructions were clear. If you are to cum...it will be by the sting of the lash, the kiss of the paddle or if we are very lucky to witness, from the zap of the electric prod. No touching or inserting allowed. " the voice fading as he moves away from her body. "And we had better get started if we wish to see His cunt streaming with cum before he arrives."

Finding her voice once again, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!" as the sobs bubble up, her body twisting and turning, arms pulling, legs unable to even pull just a little...and the whipping begins anew. The lashes striking across her parted vulva, nipping into the soft pink bits, the sounds of the strikes evident of the dripping state of her cunt. 

The lash at the rear of her changes to a paddle and the hand wielding it never ceases...the blows fast and constant. Hanging limply from the ropes, defeated , all fight gone, she endures, her mind floating away and her body staying to accept its punishment. 

Brought back to her senses, the shock of the cold water as it splashes on fevered flesh, the loud gasp from her lungs as she involuntarily sucks for air....every stripe standing lividly on her pale skin, on fire as the water cascades over her. 

"Now that I have your attention....we need to see you cum...keep that in mind...cum for us and we will stop." his words punctuated by the unmistakable sound of the electric zap as the wand sizzles close to her ear. Tears soak the blindfold...her sobs wrenched from her, ripping the fabric of the still night air. 

The first zap hits her right nipple and before she can react...the second takes her left nipple. Body twitching....flailing, spittle flying from her lips as she opens her mouth to scream...and before she can even do that....the prod touches her puckered rosebud and sets her world on fire.

Screaming...her asshole spasming as it flares one, two , omggggg, three more times...the fluids pouring from her cunt dripping audibly onto the ground....

"Just one more well placed zap and I think you boys will get your reward." says the voice that will protect her...make them stop. "Here let me show you how to make that cunt's cunt cum for you." He reaches up and grips a handful of her hair, pulls her lips to his and kisses her hard, bruising her tender lips, sucking her tongue into his mouth along with her very breath...he bites down hard. 

Her screams filtered, muffled and she feels the cold steel of the prongs on her swollen, heaving, engorged and very wet clit. Shaking her head, her tongue still pinioned by his teeth he pulls the trigger...and lets the electric current continue to flow. 

Her body convulses....cunt contracts as all other muscles relax...a stream of hot piss added to the outpouring from her pussy. A full body orgasm rips through her tortured body, he pulls his mouth from hers and lets her scream ring out. Long after the prod is removed her body processes the sensations, sustaining an exquisitely painful orgasm until there seems to be no fluid left to spray from her. Hanging loosely, too weak to lift her head, she hears the amazed murmurs from the men who strung her up. 

His voice, commanding as always booms through the night, piercing even her semi-conscious state, "Hose her down boys, let her down and put her in the stall next to the horse....let him put up with her smell all night long....it's late and I'm going to bed." He leans to whisper in her ear..."Never antagonize me again, unless you have enjoyed this, but remember, the consequences always escalate in intensity...as do the rewards for good behavior." 

His hand slipping easily into her sloppy cunt...he fucks her with his fist...hard and fast into another painful orgasm....pulls his fist out still clenched, and feeds her his fingers, pushing them deep into her mouth until she has licked the salty taste of piss and the sweet taste of girl cum from them...then leaves without another word. 

Sobbing as the cold water rinses her body, she is let down to fall on the ground...legs unable to hold her up....arms tied behind her back they carry her wretched body to the stall....tossing her onto the hay...it pokes and stings her flailed flesh. Her tied hands are hooked to the stall wall, allowing her very little movement, exhausted, she falls asleep in the fragrant grass.



Clothes Shopping



(This is the fifth story about my black butch female "Serena". Butches are as complex as any other human being. Some feel that they are men trapped in a woman's body. Most don't. They don't stand around hitching up their overalls and spitting tobacco while whistling at feminine women. Well, most of them don't. Like most of them, Serena is comfortable in who she is and how she appears to the world. That doesn't mean that she can't change a little though. This story takes place immediately after the previous one in the series "Serena and the Flutist".)

*

I had never known just what I had been missing by not spending time in the Women's areas of the various stores in just this one mall. Generally when I need clothes I drop by Sears, grab something from Men's clothing and head back out. My shoes come from there too, since I usually wear work boots or running shoes. I know that sounds stereotyped but after all, I'm butch for goodness sake. High heels are not in my repertoire. I'd probably fall off them and twist an ankle or something.

But I had not realized what a fertile area a woman's clothing store was for girl watching. I AM butch and enjoy the sight and sounds (and the feel but that comes later) of femmes. And they are all over in those stores and departments. College girls in tight shorts and mid-rift baring tops. Business women in heels and short skirts. Soccer moms in tight jeans and sweaters and boots. Slender figures and full figures and every kind in between. I was having the time of my life, even if Nan was slowly backing me into a corner on clothes.

So far I had managed to resist any attempt by my new girlfriend to get me into anything frilly. While I had enjoyed the crowd at Victoria's Secret I had escaped without trying on anything there. When she wasn't looking I had bought Nan a nearly transparent pale blue baby doll nightie I hoped to see her in one evening soon but that was different. I LOVE femmes in frilly, slinky and sexy clothing. It's just not for me.

I had given way on a couple of things. My little musician had got me to try on some better quality slacks and blouses that were really blouses and not men's shirts. I admit it, they felt nice and damn it I look rather good in them. No skirts, although she batted her eyelashes at me and spoke dreamily about how my legs would look. If I want to show my legs I'll wear shorts. Or jeans maybe, I had bought a couple pairs of them, yes, from the Ladies' Department, not the Men's. I am a woman after all and my curves are different. I admitted that they fit better than most of my old stuff. Well, I admitted it to myself anyway. There was no sense in giving Nan any more ammunition than she already had.

We had stopped long enough to eat lunch and put the first load away in the trunk of my car. I had enjoyed lunch, sitting in the outside section of one of the better class chain restaurants and devouring a plate of pasta. Who knew shopping took so much energy? My petite flutist also indulged herself. How did she eat so much and remain so little? Must be a femme secret.

After lunch the dragging around continued. This time we entered a large store catering only to women. The clothing was more expensive but I had to agree with Nan that the quality was excellent. She seemed to be looking for something in particular, which was a bit strange as she refused the offered help of the different saleswomen who approached us.

We circled the store twice and didn't stop to do anything more than just casually glance at the racks and displays. On the third pass I finally asked Nan what in the world was going on.

"I'm window shopping," she replied. Her tone was serious but there was a little devil dancing in her eyes that told me she was up to more than just that. I started to protest but she took me by the arm and guided me to a rack of pants suits. 

"This is what I was looking for." she stated. But she wasn't looking at the clothing, although she was touching a rather nice looking dark blue outfit. Whoa! "Nice looking"? What was I thinking? And what was Nan looking at. I turned my head to follow her line of sight.

Her name tag read "Jessica". She was a lovely young woman, in her early twenties. She was full figured with black hair that fell halfway down her back. Her olive skin was smooth and her generous breasts strained at the white blouse she was wearing. A navy skirt with matching heels finished her outfit. She was smiling as Nan began to ask some questions regarding alterations and materials and other things that didn't capture my attention.

The two of them had the most animated discussion. Just as I was starting to feel left out, Jessica began pulling clothes from the racks around us and holding them up to me. Nan agreed on some choices and disagreed on others. The ones they agreed on go on a rolling cart. The others are hung back where they came from or laid to one side. When I raised my eyebrows at the ever growing piles they reassured me. Nan said the pile on the cart gave us a lot of choices and Jessica mentioned that she would put the discards up later.

I swore some kinds of signals were passing between the two femmes that being a butch I couldn't decipher. But then I was enjoying the brush of Jessica's fingers over me as she examined one outfit after another. She stood very close behind me and I could not only inhale her perfume I could feel the heat of her full body. Was I imagining things or were her fingers lingering on my arms and shoulders? I shot a glance at Nan, who seemed only interested in the clothing. Her face revealed nothing.

The pair seemed to suddenly come to some kind of decision. Jessica pushed the cart towards a door with "Dressing Rooms" prominently displayed over it. Since Nan was matching her step for step I followed along.

The dressing rooms were much nicer than I was used to seeing. Instead of partitions and half-doors they were private cubicles with mirrored walls and chairs. The door closed behind us. There was a "snick" that I took to be a lock. I hoped so anyway because as Jessica began to sort through outfits Nan began to undress me.

"Nan!" I exclaimed.

"Oh for heaven's sake Serena. Just shuck down to your bra and panties. We have to try things on and obviously that is not going to happen properly if you are dressed."

Agreement came from Jessica, who wasn't even looking at me but rather was leaning over the cart and selecting an outfit. As I undressed I couldn't help but notice her skirt tighten across her rear end as well as the flexing of her leg muscles as she stretched over the cart.

I tried on various outfits. It was fun. The three of us laughed over some and applauded over others. I had to admit I was enjoying it. We finally had gone through everything and I was amazed at how much that I, Nan, WE had decided on. I sighed a bit regretfully.

"What is it?" asked Nan.

"Well this was fun. I'm sorry it's over."

As soon as I said those words I knew something was up. The glint in Nan's eyes gave it away. Before I could say anything else she stood on her toes and kissed me. I felt her fingers run up my side and over my bra. I tried to protest, to remind her that we weren't alone. Then I felt a second set of fingers dance up my other side and begin to stroke my other breast and I realized that Jessica was in on this, whatever it was.

In pretty much not time at all my bra was off and Nan seemed to have disappeared. Jessica was kissing me now, her taller and much fuller body pressed against mine and her hands cupping my breasts. A tongue entered my mouth for a long deep kiss and then Jessica stepped back just as I reached for her.

I could barely see Nan behind Jessica, but I could certainly see what she was doing. The same nimble fingers that danced across the keys of her flute were undoing buttons and tugging Jessica's blouse from her skirt. A low moan came from the saleswoman, then a sharper one. Now Nan was crouching behind the full figured woman. Nude pantyhose were pulled down along with a lacey and extremely skimpy pair of panties.

Whispered directions got Jessica to stand on one foot, balancing with one hand on the wall. Nan removed a high heel and drew the pantyhose and panties over a shapely foot that slipped back into the just abandoned shoe. A repeat on the other side and Nan stood back up. Her hands circled Jessica and slid up. A quick rug and the young woman's heavy breasts spilled free, only to be immediately covered by my little musician's hands.

Jessica moaned and her eyes opened wide. She stared at me while Nan's busy fingers immediately began to tease her big brown nipples to jutting points. The saleswoman gasped again when Nan's face appeared to me over her shoulder and a little pink tongue that I happened to know was as talented as the rest of its owner began to dance along Jessica's shoulder and neck.

I realized that Nan had hopped up to settle her cute little butt on the railing that circled the dressing room. Her legs held up Jessica's skirt, wrapped as they were around the bigger girl's waist. I knew Nan was athletic but goodness she never ceased to amaze me.

I stood there transfixed, watching Nan working over the young woman. I was just about to feel left out when my little cutie cocked one eye at me and lifted a questioning eyebrow. She looked at me then looked down Jessica's body; past the full breasts she was busy playing with to the wide spread shapely legs. I followed her gaze and caught a glimpse of a dark triangle peeking below the hoisted skirt.

Nan's eyes met mine. She gave me an exasperated look and jerked her head down. What was she trying to tell me? Then it dawned on me. She was suggesting that I... Oh NO! I didn't do things like that. I mean, I'm the rough, tough butch. I use my strapon or my body to top sexy females like Jessica. I pin them on beds or against walls and take them. I don't... and not from THAT position... I looked at those legs again and sighed.

I was on my knees, my hands sliding up the back of those full curvy legs. Up close they were even lovelier than when they showed under her skit. That skirt was up around her waist, displaying her black curly bush and a full round bubble butt that my hands ached to hold. Since I saw no reason to deny my desire I reached out and grabbed it in both hands. It felt as good as it looked, rounded and firm and more than filling my grip. I kneaded it like it and watched her lower body quiver with each squeeze. I could trust Nan to take care of the upper half.

I was tentative at first. After all, I hadn't gone down on another woman in quite a while. I studied the full curves of Jessica's legs. I leaned forward, kissing the inside of those legs. Growing bolder I went back and forth from one to the other. I could taste her skin, her excitement already flavoring her as traces of her wetness flowed from her.

This close I could really drink in the scent rising from Jessica's pussy. Her fine black hairs were coated with hanging droplets like dew. I could see another trickle sliding down the inside of her thighs, a match to the one I had already sampled. I didn't even attempt to resist. I opened my mouth and ran my tongue up that trickle until I reached the folds of her labia and clamped my mouth right on her.

Jessica let out a squeal that was instantly muffled by what I guessed was Nan stopping up her mouth with a kiss. That's sort of what it sounded like to my ears anyway. I could have been wrong; two firm full legs were now draped over my shoulders. From the increasing pressure the thighs were applying to the sides of my head, and incidentally my ears, I was pretty sure a pair of shapely ankles was locked on my back. If not, then this woman had leg strength I was just going to HAVE to try our one day with her pinned by my strapon.

In the meantime my primary concern was to avoid drowning. I had thought Jessica was wet before but I had been mistaken. She was gushing now. Whatever Nan was doing to her breasts, hopefully combined with my tongue and lips was driving her wild.

I was certainly working at it. I licked and lapped. I used my tongue on her bush and labia and then entered her and explored there. I squezed hard on that firm ass. I curled my tongue inside her and felt her juices run freely. I accepted them, letting them flow into my mouth. I had forgotten what a woman tasted like first hand, or "first tongued" might be a better phrase. She was delicious.

My fingers continued to work Jessica's ass. I suddenly encountered an obstruction, one that wildly bucked and ground on that ass. It was Nan of course. I touched her legs and then HER soaking pussy. A vagrant thought flashed through my mind. When had she had time to shed her panties? Or had she not worn any at all? Regardless, she was humping Jessica's ass as fervently as I was tonguing her pussy. I could feel Nan's own nectar running down Jessica's cleft and knew it was mingling with the bigger girl's juices, giving me a double dose.

I could feel Jessica shuddering. I was pistoning my tongue in and out of her as fast as I could. Her hips were swaying back and forth, first grinding herself on my face and then apparently driving back to Nan. That was working; I heard a muffled noise I immediately recognized as the onset of the symphony's number one flutist's orgasm. It was echoed by an unfamiliar sound that I knew was another woman cumming. Since I knew it wasn't me, it was Jessica. Then I realized that although she WAS announcing her orgasm that I was wrong about my not having one. I had ground my thighs together so hard I had triggered one of my own. Who says weight training doesn't have unexpected benefits?

I didn't have to have the next one solo. Jessica pushed me back, flipped and straddled me and had my panties down my legs before I could do much more than get three good breaths. I need them as I tipped my head up and went back to work on her. The black curls of her pussy were completely drenched by now. I think got as much of her sweet juices by sucking them clean as I did with my tongue making its second trip inside of her.

She was doing a marvelous job of teasing my clit when she buried her face in me and started bucking and squealing right up into me. She was wiggling wildly and her tongue was buried in me so deeply I hoped she could get it back out. Later. MUCH later. I had no idea what was making her act so wild but I hoped whatever the cause was didn't go away.

I had caught Jessica's ass in my hands again. As I ran my fingers over those curvy mounds I discovered what was setting her off like that. I encountered Nan's hand in her cleft, obviously with at least one finger jammed up Jessica's ass. I'd have to remember that if I ever saw this saleswoman again to use a bit of ass play.

This second time around I didn't last near as long as I had the first time before letting out a yell, fortunately right into Jessica, and shuddered to another lovely orgasm. Jessica was right behind me and still had a surprising amount of woman's juices to offer me, all of which I accepted. Even in the heat of the moment I mentally sighed to myself. Here I was a simple, well ordered and settled butch and this petite woman was just rearranging my life and making me do all sorts of things I hadn't even thought of in years. Okay, so they were all delightful fun. Still...

We eventually managed to untangle ourselves from the pile we had made, a three woman pile since Nan had climbed on top of Jessica, the better to finger her ass as well as hump herself on the other woman's body. We got dressed, shared a couple of sloppy kisses and piled all the clothes we had chosen back on the cart and rolled it to the register. Jessica looked completely cool and professional; or rather she did after Nan caught her starting to leave the dressing room with her skirt caught in the back of her pantyhose. She rang us up, accepted my charge card for an unbelievable amount of money and helped us to get out of the store. She never broke character, except for one little naughty grin and a wink as we were shaking hands when Nan and I departed.

I walked with rather rubbery legs to the car. Nan looked just fine, darn her. I stared the car. Before shifting into reverse and backing out of the parking lot I looked at my little cutie and asked the question that had been on my mind for some time.

"Why the trips around the store?"

"I told you, I was window shopping." Nan grinned. "But I wasn't window shopping for clothes, although I spotted several nice outfits, a couple of them even for me. I was window shopping for likely prospects for exactly what happened. Jessica watched us, you, from the moment we came in. I saw her wandering around the center area of the store as we circled the perimeter. She couldn't take her eyes off you. By the time I saw her lick her lips twice I knew we were going to have fun."

I shook my head. "God, you were so busy seducing her I wasn't sure there was going to be anything left for me," I mock complained. "And you didn't leave me any room to push her up against the wall and..." I broke off and glared at her. "You did that on purpose didn't you? You positioned her like that, kept your hands on her breasts, all so that the only way I could get her was to go down on her?"

Nan's eyes twinkled at me. "And I could tell how much you hated it. Face it Serena, you loved it. You have been so busy with your strapon and topping everyone in reach that you had forgotten how much fun oral sex is, both getting and giving. You now only gave that charming saleswoman two orgasms just from your lips but you had one yourself when you weren't even being touched. Now wasn't that worth it?"

I tried to grumble but I had to give in on two counts. First of all, she was right. I had an enormous amount of fun without doing any so-called "butch things". Second, I had to marvel at the way that Nan had set me up, and not just with Jessica either. The bags that filled the trunk and back seat of my car proved that. How had she got me to but all these clothes?

When we got back to my place Nan kissed me, told me she needed to go home for a while and she'd call me later. She reminded me she had rehearsal tomorrow and that she had gone a couple of days now without practice. She needed to sit down with her flute for at least a few hours. She kissed me again.

"I don't know where we are going Serena, if indeed we're going anywhere. I know I like you a lot and I think you feel the same way about me. I want to see what develops but I don't want to push things. Besides," she smiled a little Cheshire cat grin, "You might want to see what kind of impression you are going to have on the women with your new outfits. Speaking of that," she dug a piece of paper out of her pocketbook. "This is Jessica's number and yes, she would love to have you bend her over and give her a hammering with your strapon. She gets off work at five and I told her you would pick her up at six. Take care." One more kiss and she was out the door. Faintly I heard her singing again. In Italian. Didn't she know anything besides opera?

I took the pile of packages upstairs and started hanging up and putting away my new wardrobe. The pants suits DID look sharp. I grinned myself thinking of Nan. I didn't know where we were going either, but it would be fun no matter what happened. Of course, I was going to have to keep an eye on her. The next thing I knew she'd be trying to get me into high heels.

(The End) 



Clothes Shopping



My Mom had dragged me to the shopping mall to help her find new clothes. My Dad was always away on business so he was never around for these type of things. There I was, standing outside the changing booths as my Mom was trying on a new outfit. I looked back to where my Mom was changing and I could see that the door did not close properly. My mother had her back to me at first. She was stripped down to only her panties. She had her bra off and as she turned around I got a good look at her big breasts.

Those tits were huge and my Mom's nipples were the size of a large silver dollars. She quickly realized the door was open and then shut it. I think my tongue was hanging out. Mom came out from the dressing room and asked my what I thought of the outfit she had tried on.

"You look beautiful, Mom" I told her.

She smiled and went back to change into her normal clothes. Later that evening, I was on my bed naked. I was stroking my cock think of what I saw earlier in the day. I slid my hand up and down my long cock. Here I was eighteen years old and I had not been in bed with anyone yet. As I was stroking I heard a noise coming from my Mom's bedroom, which was next to mine.

I couldn't quite make out what was going on, so I got up and walked out into the hallway. The door was closed to my Mom's bedroom so I put my ear up to the door. I could clearly hear my mother moaning. I had to know what was going on. I slowly turned the doorknob and looked into the room. My mom was naked on her bed rubbing her pussy with her fingers. My cock did a double take. I was naked also, standing there watching my Mom's damp pussy. I finally stepped into her room and she saw me.

"Kevin, what are you doing in here?" My Mom asked me. 

"I heard noises and I came to investigate," I told her.

I walked right up to the bed. I had my eyes on her slick pussy and I could see my Mom eyeing my stiff cock. It was deathly silent for a minute. This was my moment of truth. I got up on the bed and knelt close to my mother. My cock was jutting straight out, just inches from my Mom's face.

"Mom, please suck it for me," I was almost pleading with her.

My mother reached out and took my stiffness in her hand and started to stroke it. I moved even closer, my cock head right at her lips. My Mom opened her mouth and took me whole. It was if she just lost it and was going wild on my cock. I pushed my hips into her face. My stiff dick was all the way down her throat now. I was face fucking my Mom.

This didn't go on very long as I pulled away after a few minutes. I moved over between my Mom's thighs. My mother knew what was on my mind.

"We can't do this Kevin, we shouldn't," She told me.

There was no stopping me now. I pushed my Mom's legs far apart and I pushed my cock head right to her opening. I slowly rubbed my mushroom across her folds. That was all it took. My Mom threw her head back and I slid my hard pecker into her. My Mom just seemed to lose it. She started to moan and thrash around beneath me. I pushed deeper and buried my entire length in her warm quim.

Mom wrapped her legs around my back and we started to really go at it. I was pounding into her pussy with the hardest strokes I could manage. I couldn't believe how warm and tight my Mom's pussy was. She was really gripping my rod hard with her pussy muscles. I lost track of how long we were fucking. My mother let out this scream and said she was cumming.

The next thing I felt was a gusher of my Mom's love juices hitting my mid-section. Mom's body was shaking as I kept feeding her my thick erection. I just stroked her until it looked like she had passed out. I hadn't cum yet but I pulled out anyway. Mom looked spent lying there beneath me. I lowered my mouth and found one of her hard nipples. I sucked each of her dollar shaped nips into my mouth.

This is what I had been dreaming about since that afternoon in the clothing store. The next thing I remember was waking up with my naked mother next to me in her bed.

"You can never say a word of this to your father, Kevin," Mom told me.

I had no intention of telling a soul what we had done last night. I wanted to keep enjoying my Mom's body. My Dad did finally show up from one of his numerous business trips. Mom and I had to cool it for awhile. One night though, I was asleep in my bed when my Mom woke me. She was standing there with her bathrobe on. She motioned for me to be quiet. I got up and followed her down to the den. 

My Mom produced a towel and put it down on the edge of the pool table. She slowly let her bathrobe fall to the floor. Her body was magnificent. She ran a finger across her slit and then sat on the towel at the edge of the pool table. Her legs were spread wide for me. Needless to say, my dick was hard as could be. I went over and worked my cock right into her wet opening.

My ass was working like a piston, feeding my Mom's hot pussy with long dick. I hoped that my Dad didn't wake and stumble upon us fucking like that. But he never saw us that night. My Mom wrapped her legs around my waist and placed her arms around my neck. I lifted her up from the table and we fucked out in the middle of the floor.

I was thrusting my cock into my Mom and she was holding on for dear life. Her tits were pressed into my chest as we went at it there in the den. After a few minutes my Mom said she was getting close. I was determined to join her. Mom's breathing got heavier. She was almost there. I felt my nuts pinching at the same time. Mom practically screamed.

"Oh fuck, I am cumming Kevin!" 

I just lost it. I blew a giant load of my man seed into my Mom's belly. Her pussy just went into convulsions. She was milking me dry of every drop of my cum. I just continued to stroke her pussy and there was cum all over the place. I had never cum like that before. It felt like I shot a quart of my load deep in my Mom's belly. 

Eventually I lowered my Mom back onto the floor. Her legs were all wobbling. Somehow we cleaned up and went back to our proper bedrooms. My Dad continued to go on his trips and Mom and I shared each other for the rest of the summer. I was going to college at the beginning of fall. Mom wanted me to stay home but I just couldn't. I try to get home every few weekends. When I do, I am in my Mom's bed fucking her every available moment.



Clothes Shopping with My Hairy Mom



Note: The characters in my stories are all the same. The following story is a continuation in the lives of the mother and son in the "I Love My Hairy Mom" stories. Please refer to those before reading the following story to have the necessary background information about the two. 

*****

So my mom had taken me to the mall with her, which she almost always did, to shop for some new clothes for herself. We were in Sears in the mall, and she was searching through the Women's section for a new skirt and some tops and whatnot. I was bored as any son would be just walking around while their mom stops and looks at a million things before picking only one thing to try on.

Anyway, I was hiding in-between the clothes racks that had the circular secret fort in the middle (haha) and just keeping myself occupied. My mom had picked out some things to try on and told me to walk with her to the dressing rooms. There were no employees in the dressing rooms to monitor who goes in and out, so it's wasn't a big deal when I walked over with her. The dressing rooms were separate stall-like rooms, but the doors reached the ground and you couldn't see beneath the doors or anything so it was pretty secured for women to try clothes on. Based on the sounds of hangers and shuffling sounds, there were a few women trying clothes on in some of the rooms.

At the end of the dressing area, there was a bigger dressing room I guess to allow bigger people or handicapped people to be able to fit in there. My mom chose that one and told me to come in with her, which I did. The room had those sharp pins all stuck in the carpet and against the wall there was one of those three-sided mirrors so women could get a good look at what they were trying on. I sat on the bench near the mirrors and my mom hung her clothes up on the hangers.

She chose the skirt to try on, so she unzipped her jeans and pulled them down. As she did, her panties came down with her jeans. She didn't care to pull them back up, though. I had the view of her bare butt in all its big and motherly glory, and the mirrors were in front of her so I had a great view of her completely nude body from the top-down. Her dark hairy bush was in full view and it looked so soft and big. My eyes were fixated on the mirrors and on her bush. She, of course, saw me staring and chuckled.

My mom then turned around to face me and kissed the top of my head. She then whispered in my ear, "Don't make any sounds, ok? There are other women in the other rooms and these walls don't hide the sounds because they're open at the top." I nodded with my wide-eyed stare as she stood me up and unbuttoned my jeans and slid them off along with my shoes. She sat me back down on the bench and proceeded to take her top off along with her bra. Her big breasts bounced as gravity took over and the nipples seemed to stare at me as if they were eyes.

All of these events had already made me very hard, but my mom got on her knees and kissed my penis and jerked me a few times to get me going even more. She put me in her mouth and slid it up and down a few times to get me wet, and then she stood back up, stepped forward, and sat down on my penis. Her bush rubbed against my shirt and then my pelvis on her way down, and it felt so soft and ticklish on me. My mom slowly rode up and down as she took my hands and had me grab her butt. She had me squeeze her as hard as I could as she went up and down, but she did all she could to not make a sound. The bench creaked lightly with the rhythm of her movements, and she stared into my eyes with a smile on her face as my mouth was wide open along with my eyes as I was both nervous and excited.

My mom then stood up and faced the three-sided mirror and bent forward so her breasts were hanging down toward the ground. She had me get behind her and slowly move in and out of her bush so my body would hit against hers and make too much noise. She looked back at me over her shoulder as I was going in and out of her, but my eyes were focused on the giggling of her breasts in the mirror. They swung forward and back, and side to side, along with the movement of my penis in and out of her hairy pussy.

I then looked down at her smile and she whispered, "Ok, I want you to cum inside of my hairy bush, baby, but try to not make any noise." With that request, I couldn't help myself. I thrusted faster and faster, with my body hitting her butt several times. This made a loud clapping sound when it did, and my mom let out a few high-pitched squeals. She shhh-ed me quietly but the look on her face said she didn't care. I finally came, and I let out a sigh of relief as I stopped moving while completely inside of her. I could feel the thick hair of her bush and butt-crack against my groin and pelvis as I stood there and felt my penis pumping my cum into her.

When I was done, my mom stood up slowly and my penis slowly came out of her. She had me get dressed as she put her clothes back on. She didn't try any of the clothes on at all, and she just left them on the hangers as we walked out of the dressing room. When we exited the room, there was a woman standing in the hall waiting for a dressing room who, when she saw the two of us, got pretty wide-eyed and her mouth opened a bit. My mom said, "It's all yours hun!" as we walked by her. She didn't say anything in response to my mom, but she stared at us both as we walked by her. There is no doubt she could hear the sounds from our room. As we passed the last dressing room on the right, a woman opened her door as if she was anticipating us walking by and stared at us with a look of surprise. She didn't have any clothes in her hands as she walked out, which made us think she was sitting in there and listening to the sounds. The two women were probably not expecting a mother and her son to walk out of the dressing room.

My mom hugged me to her side as we walked out of Sears and went to the food court for some lunch. She told me how much she loved me and said how much fun we have together. I told her how much fun that was because we had to stay as quiet as we could, and that I loved seeing her butt and hairy bush at the same time because of the mirrors.

She did some shopping after that as I played some videogames in GameStop, and then we left and went home.

I hope you enjoyed that experience of mine! There are an endless amount of stories that I have to share, but I hope these last two have been a good start!



Clothesline



You can tell a lot about a guy from where he shops. Take my friends, who have specialized tastes. Some of them spend their time at the hardware store, while others take an interest in our town's fabric shop, which has needles and pins that make them drool. Still others hang out at the department store, eyeing the cutlery collection. Somehow all of us end up rubbing shoulders at the town's jacket shop, with its discounted leather section.

Me, I spend most of my time at the Lawnville 5&10, in the shelves devoted to laundry supplies.

I was there last Wednesday when Gerth shows up, shopping basket in hand, and heads straight for the clotheslines. At least, that was where he was headed, but when he saw me he veered toward the shelf holding motor oil.

Seeing which store sections a guy avoids can be revealing too. I cast a glance at Gerth's shopping basket. All that it held was a package of looped clear line. "Going fishing?" I asked.

He jumped as though I'd just caught him browsing through *Playboy*. Yeah, Lawnville folk jump when you catch them reading mainstream skin mags. It's that type of place.

He stared at me, and then at his basket, before his expression cleared. "Yes, I need some new fishing line."

"Sounds fun." I turned my attention back to my choices. They didn't look good. "You know anything about clothesline?" I asked.

"What?" You'd think I'd just caught him in a closet with the mayor's daughter.

"For hanging clothes. My dryer is bust, and I can't tell which of these lines to buy."

"Oh." Suddenly Gerth was all business-like. "Neither of them are very good, actually. They're weak - they break easily. You need something stronger. That is, if it's your own clothes you're hanging." He glanced me over. I was wearing one of the standard Lawnville outfits: flannel shirt, jeans, and boots. He was wearing the other standard Lawnville outfit: a dress shirt and slacks.

"Damn." I stepped back from the shelf. "I don't want to drive all the way to the mall."

Gerth hesitated, then said, "We could check my house. I think Jessie left some behind when she moved out."

"You sure? I don't want to put you to any trouble."

"It's no trouble. Besides, I owe you."

I should explain about Gerth: he's a borrower. The first day I moved onto his street, he showed up at my door and asked to borrow - I kid you not - a cup of sugar. Then it was my hose. Then it was the lawnmower.

It took me a while to figure out that this was Gerth's way of paying social calls. It was a no-risk situation: if the neighbor didn't want to talk, Gerth could pretend that he had only come round for his original errand. I guess breaking up with Jessie made him kind of skittish about taking chances with people.

Thing is, he always pays back for the original loan, in double. If you loan him your hose, the next thing you know he's watering your flowerbed. If you loan him your lawnmower, you'll wake to the sound of your own lawn being mowed. It's sort of a thank-you note from Gerth for you talking to him. Which quickly endeared the guy to me, I'll admit.

Not that I let myself think too much about it. Wonder Bread must have been invented in Lawnville - this is the most white-bread suburb you can imagine. Though I'd always wondered about Gerth, even before the rumors started that he was receiving shipments of Viagra. Jessie moved out soon afterwards, which must have left Gerth feeling even more like a fish on dry land. So I bided my time, waiting for the right moment.

"Here we are," said Gerth a half hour later, his sleeves rolled up to his armpits as he rummaged through a dresser drawer. "I thought she might have left something down here. She always collected lots of useless odds and ends."

"Uh-huh." I didn't bother to look toward the drawer; I figured I already knew what was there. Instead, I took in my surroundings. Gerth lives in a split-level, same as me, and his laundry room is partitioned off from the rest of the basement. One thin pole helps to hold up the ceiling - I was leaning against it, and I could feel the vibration from the washer that was humming nearby. The washer beeped.

"Want me to toss your clothes in the dryer?" I asked.

"Oh, no, I'll do that," said Gerth, and he shoved the drawer closed before turning away with a clothesline in hand. He didn't quite shut the drawer all the way. As far as I could tell, he was well-equipped to go mountaineering if he wanted.

"Try this," he said, thrusting the clothesline into my hand. "I think it's strong enough."

I tested it briefly with my hands, then ran my fingers along it. "Feels soft," I commented.

"Yes, I like the soft type," said Gerth, who was transferring dark-colored clothes to the dryer now. "I mean, that's the type Jessie always had me buy." He stooped to pick up a long dress-sock that had fallen from his arms.

"Wise woman." I glanced round the room again. Other than the dresser, there were shelves sticking out from the wall. But really, the pole was the most convenient object at hand.

I began unwrapping the clothesline, saying, "I'm not sure whether it's strong enough, though. Looks like it would break if you put it under pressure."

"It won't," Gerth said firmly as he poured laundry liquid into the washer. Nearby the dryer was beginning to hum its way round. It made a nice vibration on the pole too. I took a stretch of line in my hands, held the two parts of the rope together, then suddenly snapped the line taut. Gerth nearly poured the laundry liquid into the floor drain.

"Maybe," I said in a non-committal manner. "Hey, Gerth, if you're putting a load through, would you mind washing this?" I reached into my left back pocket and fished around before tossing the relevant object to Gerth. I used to leave it hanging out, but that was before Lawnville got cable TV. You never know what odd bits of information your neighbors will pick up from the media.

Judging from Gerth's blank expression, he didn't watch the right TV programs. All he said was, "I'm doing whites."

"It's light grey," I assured him. Actually, it's dark grey, so dark that it can sometimes be mistaken for black. But for Gerth it would be very, very light. I didn't want to scare him.

Too much.

The hanky went into the washer, which made a nice vibration indeed when combined with that of the dryer. I held the clothesline taut again. Gerth was still watching me out of the corner of his eye. "I think I'll have to test this," I said.

It's amazing how, even under a sixty-watt bulb in a dark basement, you can tell when a guy goes pale. "Oh?" Gerth said in his Wonder Bread voice that had no doubt fooled Jessie for the first three years of their marriage. "How so?"

"I need your help. Come here." I let my voice grow peremptory, just to check. I wasn't surprised to see Gerth brighten. I took him firmly by the arm and pulled him over so that his back was against the pole. "Hold onto this," I said, handing him the end of the line. "No, wait - let's make this a proper test." I took back the line and began looping it around Gerth's wrist.

He forgot to breathe. He also forgot to ask me why a "proper test" required that his wrist be bound. He simply stared, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, like someone who has just won the million-dollar lottery.

The test consisted of me tying his hands behind the pole and seeing if he could break the line. Since the line was long, I tied his feet to the pole for good measure. He gave the line a token tug and said, "I'm not sure."

"Wait." I walked over to the drawer and rummaged around for a moment. Then I returned to where Gerth stood, tied to the pole.

He stared at the bike chain in my hand. "What are you going to do with that?"

"Stuff it in your mouth," I suggested with a smile. Then I regretted my remark as Gerth paled again. It was too early for him to panic. I said soothingly, "Just joking. Here, hold this." I reached round and placed the chain in his hand, wondering whether he would drop it. He clung to it like he was a small boy holding his father's hand. I placed the second clothesline in my empty pocket to have it out of the way, then began unbuttoning Gerth's shirt.

"*What are you doing?*" It was nearly a scream. If I touched his belt, he'd start howling louder than the Lawnville fire siren. Fortunately, I wasn't planning to go that far.

"You look hot," I said. "I just want to make sure you don't get overheated." I pulled back the shirt, letting my hands brush over Gerth's chest. Nothing special there: a bit of hair, some tits that were puckered from the cold. But the stomach was nice and flat, and would look even nicer once I was through.

He didn't say anything as I looped the second line round the back of the pole, tight across his forearms, and then tighter across his stomach. I tugged hard, and his chest began to struggle for breath. I glanced quickly at his face to make sure I wasn't taking him too far. His expression looked dazed, not doubtful. As for his crotch, I'd already figured out that that part of him was having the time of its life.

"Have you done this with anyone before?" I asked conversationally as I finished the knot.

He hesitated, then asked, "Done what?"

I slapped him. It wasn't one of those slaps you see in the movies, where the villain hits the heroine to the ground, then goes off-camera to have his hand X-rayed for fractures. It was just a nice, easy, open-palmed slap that left Gerth's head turned ninety degrees from where it had been before. He gave a yelp that left my own crotch warm.

"Don't fuck with me," I growled, clamping his jaw with my hand and pulling his face round toward me. "When I ask a question, I expect to be answered. Tell the truth, or I'll--"

I stopped, not to be dramatic, but because alarm bells were going off in my head. I don't know what trick other tops use to tell the difference between play fear and real terror. All I know is that I can always tell when I've gone too far.

"Or you'll what?" he whispered. Sweat trickled down his forehead, and he was beginning to shiver. Probably it was the shivering that had clued me in.

"Or I'll let you go," I said simply and released his jaw. I waited.

His gaze dropped. He swallowed. I spent the next minute looking at his nice flat stomach and the nice indentation the rope made in it. Then he looked up and asked softly, "What was the question?"

"Sir."

He didn't get it. I had to spell it out for him. He swallowed again, then whispered, "What was the question, sir?"

I asked him again, and this time I got his life story. I could have written it up beforehand, from my own memories. The childhood secret of self-bondage that was carefully hidden from his parents, the teen years of wondering why making out with gorgeous dates didn't get him hard . . . Hell, he even matched me with his night-before-the-wedding agony over whether to go through with it.

At least I'd had enough sense not to show up at the altar. Even Carl admitted that within a few years, though our MCC pastor still isn't speaking to me.

I cut Gerth off when he began to explain painstakingly that the divorce had been his idea, in order to save Jessie from the consequences of living with a pervert. "So you never asked her to tie you up?" I said.

He stared at me as though he had just discovered that I was My Favorite Martian. Then he said faintly, "No, sir. I wouldn't make her do anything like that."

"And it didn't occur to you to look for someone to do this with once she was gone?"

Again he stared. "I didn't-- Sir, I thought I was the only one like this."

Not a TV watcher at all, then. I gave him a slow smile as a reward for his honesty. "Well," I said, "then it's lucky for you that I live just down the street."

He looked uneasy rather than pleased. I guessed it was because of the close connection between my question about Jessie and my statement about myself. I decided I really didn't want to start him thinking; he might spell out the letters BI in his head and get in a panic again. Instead, I took the bike chain back and proceeded to bind the upper part of his arms. I let the chain dig into his chest just below his nipples; it would make a beautiful pattern-work afterwards for him to admire.

The dryer beeped. About time. I pulled open the door, and after short search I found the dress-sock. It was long enough for my purposes. I held it up for his inspection.

He got it right away this time, and I saw the fear re-enter his eyes. I sighed, then leaned forward to murmur in his ear. "Look," I said, "we've lived near each other for more than a year now, and I've had you over to my house loads of times. Have I ever screwed you over? I mean, *really* screwed you over?"

He didn't say anything at first. Perhaps it was due to the fact that my hard cock was now pressing against his, leaving no doubt that this was a game of mutual enjoyment. On reflection, I decided that "screwed" was a poor choice of words. But after a minute he said, "It's okay. It's just . . . I'm new to this, sir."

"I'm taking that into account," I assured him, and proceeded to blindfold him. Then I stepped back to admire the sight.

Something about that sixty-watt bulb made Gerth look better than if we'd been doing this upstairs. The light threw shadows onto his body, highlighting the way the clothesline dug into his skin at the stomach, at the ankles, twice around the arms, and, I knew, around the wrists. The line would be biting into him in all these spots, surpassed only by the cold chain grinding into his chest. Gerth stood upright, sweat still pouring down from his forehead and soaking the blindfold that he stared blankly into.

Nearly perfect. I still had some clothesline left over.

He yipped when I passed the clothesline under his crotch, carefully positioning the line to dig between his balls. "What--"

"Shut up," I said in a warning voice. Actually, I like a little feedback when I work, but I didn't want this to get out of hand. He needed to remember what this was about. Just to make sure he did, I finished off the knot at his waist and then tweaked his left tit.

He gave a screech. "What the hell are you--?"

I slapped him again, this time with the back of my hand. Fortunately, I always keep my nails trimmed. "You don't say no to me," I told him, letting my voice go very deep. "You say, 'Yes, sir,' or you answer my questions. Or you say, 'Let me go,' and I do, and this is over. But as long as you're mine, you don't question what I do."

He didn't make any immediate response to this. His chest was heaving twice as fast now, like I'd tightened the rope around his stomach. I tweaked his right nipple, and he made a gurgling noise but didn't speak. "Shall I test the clothespins?" I asked softly, twisting harder.

He opened his mouth, then quickly closed it. I could see him trying to sort through the options I'd left him with. Then he said faintly, "If . . . if you want to, sir."

The right answer. I released his tit and gave him a light pat on the cheek in reward. Then I stepped back. I was beginning to feel tight in my jeans. I don't use blindfolds without good reason.

I tried to be discreet, but the washer chose that moment to reach the end of its cycle, so the scratch of my zipper rang through the room. Gerth bit his lip; I could just imagine what horrors he was envisioning now. But he didn't say anything. He was learning fast.

As for myself, I just wanted to relieve the pressure. I stood still a moment, stroking myself - thank God I don't need lube for such matters, because there wasn't anything of that sort in this room. Then I went over to the washer and pulled out my wet handkerchief. I turned the washer back to the beginning of its cycle; I liked the vibration against the pole, and I could guess that Gerth did too.

"Tell me," I said, "did you ever get snapped with a wet towel when you were young?"

He swallowed, loud. I sort of figured that he had and that he was the type who had cherished the memory. He thought of himself, like I had, as just a ropes-and-blindfold sort of guy; I wanted to expand his vision. So I played with him for a while, snapping the handkerchief against his chest and his arms and even his face - I have good aim. He never knew where the next sting would fall; I could see the excitement building up in him. I waited till it reached its peak, then I sent the handkerchief flicking onto his left tit. He screeched to high heaven, and I blessed the fact that Lawnville citizens don't investigate suspicious sounds. I was sure that a fair bit of gossip would be making the rounds tomorrow about the noises that had emerged from Gerth's basement. I made a note to myself to exit by way of the back entrance; then I stung Gerth's right nipple. He howled this time.

I smiled, stroked myself a bit till he had caught his breath, then said in an amused voice, "I wonder what I should aim for next."

Even with the blindfold on, the mixture of fear and hope was clear. "No," he whispered.

"What was that?" I asked sharply.

"I . . . " The fear overtook the hope. "I'm sorry, sir! I didn't mean to--"

"You'll have to be punished for that," I said, and let the handkerchief fly.

Now, here's the proof that ninety percent of sex takes place in the mind. I was sending a piddling handkerchief tip his way, and he was wearing slacks and underwear. He couldn't have felt more than a touch of my blow. Yet he screamed like a bride being ripped of her maidenhood. Even before the wet spot appeared on Gerth's slacks, I knew what had happened.

In the porn stories, the players always come together. Uh-huh. All I can say is that the washer completed its full cycle before I made use of Gerth's floor drain. In the meantime, Gerth got a dose of tit-twisting and a few gentle punches to the chest. He didn't say a word. Like I said before, Gerth always pays his debts.

Afterwards, when we'd put the toys away and carried the clean laundry upstairs to the living room, Gerth said hesitantly, "Your handkerchief is still wet."

"Don't worry about it." I stuffed the hanky in my left pocket. Sometimes I park it in my right pocket, but that wasn't something Gerth needed to know. I stepped over to the patio door.

"Um . . . I really should pay you back. For the wet handkerchief, I mean." Gerth's voice was uncertain. I could see him calculating in his mind how many years of mowed lawns would equal what he'd been given.

"Sure," I said. "I could use some new clothes. And the 5&10 is having a sale in the men's section next week."

"Yes!" Gerth seized on this idea eagerly. "Whatever you want, just tell me. I'll deliver it to your door."

"Oh, I think it would be better if we shopped together. So that we can pick out the right one." I slipped through the patio door and then slid it shut till there was only a foot left open. I smiled at Gerth.

"Fact is," I said, "I'm in need of a new belt."

--

Copyright (c) 2005 Dusk. All rights reserved. Please do not reprint, post, or e-mail except with permission 



Clothing and the Nude



In The Erotic Eye and the Erotic Senses, Stefan Beyst observes that various gestures and poses have been designed to display parts of the body that would remain otherwise unseen. Erotic art is a striptease, he points out, in which, sometimes, nudity is revealed to oneself, as in a mirror. Whereas, at other times, an observer gazes upon the nude. When the nude is also his or her own observer, he or she becomes both the observer and the observed, the voyeur and the exhibitionist.

Clothing allows a person to play hide and seek with an observer, and the removal of various items of clothing enhance the exhibition of more intimate body parts that follows, Beyst suggests for example, the removal of the panties, he says, is "a mere prelude to the full exposure of the nude." Clothing, he maintains, is not "meant to conceal nakedness," but is "intended to cover nudity." Because the more intimate body parts are usually revealed last, if at all, exposing them while keeping the less intimate parts covered can be very erotic, Beyst argues, as "the latter regain their appeal precisely because they are now concealed." It is also erotic to contrast a fully clothed body with a nude body, he suggests. He contends that "too drastic" a display of the more intimate body parts has "a reverse effect," especially when the genitals are suddenly thrust upon the viewer, a display that, because of its suddenness, is apt to provoke disgust rather than appreciation. Instead, the artist must, as it were, lead up to this ultimate display: "Only when the onlooker has been previously turned on by the sight of more peripheral parts is the eye prepared to enjoy the sight of the genitals."

Contrast, as always, enhances the display of nudity, Beyst asserts, as does the gradual exposure of the body. The wearing of layers of clothing prolongs the moment of revelation, making it more effective and more intense when it finally occurs, especially if the layers differ from one another in color and type of fabric. It is preferable that underwear be hinted at, by having it "peek out from beneath an outer layer, such as the cuffs of sleeves," by having "the ribbons or the edges of the bra" show, or by ensuring that "the outline of the underwear" appears "through semi-transparent fabric, or its relief may show through a tight-fitting dress."

Until recently, Beyst points out, women's underwear consisted of a modest, one-piece chemise, but this single garment has since been replaced by "specialized" undergarments of "many parts: underpants, garter belts, corsets, and bras," allowing a piece-by-piece unveiling of the feminine form so that "undressing develops into a continuous metamorphosis. In every stage of its unfolding, a new erotic appearance with its own merits is revealed." This specialization of female underwear has also led to a "new kind of intermediary stage between clad and nude: the body clad in a swimsuit or lingerie." This "intermediate stage" has also made it possible to interpose a "shortcut" between the fully clothed and the nude body in which, for example, a shirt can be worn "without a slip underneath" or a woman may appear "completely naked underneath a thick fur coat."

The interplay of clothing and nudity allows artists to combine the two in suggestive fashions, Beyst declares, by showing wind blowing "against his body," having "water make the fabric cling to it . . . cutting up the fabric so that it comes to court more intimately the shape of the body, " or depicting "additional elasticity" that "makes the dress perfectly court the undulations of the body that was supposed to conceal, as with tight-knitted dresses, nylon stockings and latex," and, he notes, "The covering is shortcut altogether when the fabric itself is transparent."

Although "make-up, epilating and shaving, cosmetic surgery, the use of all kind of prostheses, wigs, false eyelashes," and other devices are, like clothing, intended to enhance the beauty of women, clothing differs from these items in that it is put on to be removed, Beyst says: "To be sure, some of these artifices can be laid off like clothes: think of make-up, a set of dentures or a wig, but their removal only lays bare hidden shortcomings instead of hidden charms. The difference is between objectively adding to the beauty or concealing shortcomings on the one hand, and subjectively increasing the erotic appeal on the other hand." Clothing has charm precisely because it can be removed, he suggests: "The charm of well-fitting trousers resides in opening the zipper, the charm of a blouse in its unbuttoning, the secret of the corset in its unlacing, the appeal of the bra in its undoing," adding "one could write a whole erotica on zippers, buttons, hooks, ribbons and laces." It is also erotic to leave part of a shirt or blouse unbuttoned or to leave a zipper unzipped, he asserts, because "such seeming dishevelment betrays an overall readiness or helps to conjure it up."

Beyst contends that there is a "natural 'transsexuality' in the sense that characteristics which, in a given culture, are supposed to be male or female, tend to be rather randomly distributed over genetically male of female beings" that enhances erotica. Traditionally male attire, he argues, enhances "female attractiveness," and "this is all the more so when what seemed to be a man turns out to be a woman." In fact, he further claims, "when there is a sufficient initial natural ambivalence, the wearing of clothes of the opposite sex can become a means of acquiring a new body." Male transvestites wear women's clothing, he says, because of an exhibitionistic impulse to draw attention to his own beauty: "Male transvestism is foremost fuelled by exhibitionistic motives. Under the regime of the exchange of beauty for benefits, man is doomed to forever admire female beauty, while his own body is left in the cold, how beautiful it might be." In the case of the female transvestite, her wearing of male clothing makes her more masculine, giving her a "boyish" look. The unisex look is making both men and women sexless figures, Beyst suggests: "clothes and other artificial interventions remove every sexual difference: we get to see a sexless being, like the angels of olden times."

Items of clothing often imitates the body parts that they cover, but, at the same time, replace them with something else, Beyst observes. For example, "the shape of the . . . panties echoes the triangle of the mound of Venus, while, at the same time, replacing the pubic hair and the mucous skin through shining cloth." Likewise, when a body part vanishes from display, it is shown in surrogate ways by the outerwear that covers it: "It is not difficult to understand why the disappearance of the vulva celebrates its resurrection in the folds of drapery, in collars or cuts in sleeves, stockings, jackets and coats." In this way, fur is a surrogate for pubic hair, he says, just as "the breasts reappear as cups and the nipples as buttons" and "the thighs or the hips are accentuated in crinolines" and hidden skin reappears, transformed into "silk, leather, or latex." Shoes, he says, "are destined to embody the penis."

Because clothing can substitute for the body parts it covers, clothing can become a fetish, Beyst argues: "Things are further complicated in that pieces of cloth may be isolated from the body from which they derive their appeal. Especially in such cases do the displacements of erotic appearance take the shape of a veritable 'fetish.'"

Beyst explains that jewelry, tattoos, and piercings both divert the eye from the body parts they adorn and attract the eye to these same parts.

A transvestite's wearing of clothing that is associated with or suggestive of the opposite sex (fur, which reminds the wearer both of men, who have body and facial hair, and of pubic hair or silk or satin, which is smooth like clean-shaven female flesh and the beardless female face), Beyst suggests, and allows him or her to put on the flesh--and, therefore, the body--of the opposite sex, becoming the man or woman he or she wants to be, which he or she can model before a mirror, in the imagination, or in the gaze of a third party.

Clothing also advertises social rank, for wealthy people are idle enough to wear white, just as long fingernails indicate the lack of a need to work, Beyst says, but clothes also maintain modesty, and the ancient Greeks sculpted male statues with miniature penises unless the intent was to be erotic, in which case, the penis was exaggerated in size.

Beyst argues that less attractive people, both male and female, are reduced to being always voyeurs and never exhibitionists, which injures their self-esteem and causes them to become "indifferent to female beauty," to reject "erotic beauty as mere titillation of the senses," to avenge themselves against women by destroying them, or to sublimate their sexuality in work.

The separation of behavior into private and public spheres is necessitated to avoid sharing the intimacy between lovers with strangers, and modesty is feigned, clothes being a means of maintaining the pretense, Beyst contends. Orgies violate these distinctions and often likewise contravene traditional dictates concerning which sexual acts are permissible and which are taboo.

Next: Part 3 of "The Shemale As a Figure In Art"



Clothing Not Required



Chapter 1

Friday night - her story:

It was the longest week -- meetings, reports, late nights, and out of town travel. Now it is finally Friday and even though traffic is heavy and slow, only one chore stands between us and the weekend. Thanks to heavy rains the lawn is lush and green, and it had been nearly a week and cutting it couldn't wait. June had given way to summer in a vengeance. The long spring was gone and we were gripped with heavy humidity and heat of mid August.

I was hoping to be the first one home thereby scoring the riding mower. As I pull into the drive, I hear the drone of a mower and I hope the neighbors were taking advantage of the dry evening. I spot the side door of the garage ajar and know that the walk behind mower and string trimmer are my fate.

Resigned I enter the house, change from work clothes into shorts and a bra top, grab my iPod and a bottle of water, and hit the yard. Firing up the mower, I try to convince myself that if I just stay on task it won't be too long before I can cool off in the pool. All I can think is that the cooler evenings of the past few weeks will make the water refreshing but not bone numbing.

As I work around the yard, I know that you are in your own mowing world. Every so often I can catch the subtle scent of your cigar over the freshly mown grass. Jimmy Buffett is joyfully singing about margaritas, and hamburgers, and boat drinks in my ears so I quickly get into the music and tolerate the heat of the day and catch myself humming or singing along.

As I finish with the mowing and get out the string trimmer, I am aware that you have finished before me. I can't see or hear you moving around the yard, so I figure you are either taking a shower, returning calls, e-mails, or starting dinner.

Why would anyone not be in the pool?

I make quick work of the trimming -- which may mean a few misses, but all I want is a quick shower and to dive into the pool. After another 15 minutes (should have been 30) I am finished. I put things away and duck into the shower off the garage. Honestly, it is nearly dark so any missed areas might be attributed to that versus laziness.

As I close the door of the bathroom and peel off my wet clothes, I noticed that your swimsuit is still hanging on the back of the door next to mine. Maybe you are already in the pool and you might have remembered the challenge that we'd issued - the first weekend without obligations would be clothing optional. What a great idea!

I turn on the shower, let the water warm to just tepid, and jump in. It isn't the water temperature that is making my nipples hard and my breasts swell. Are you already in the pool and will water be the only thing that separates our bodies? My mind races to all of the possibilities as I take the time to shave my legs and make sure that my bald pussy is as smooth as possible. Toweling off, I opt to leave my suit hanging on the door.

As I turn off the light and open the bathroom door, I wait for my eyes to adjust to the darkness -- no full moon this night and the motion detector light must have burned out. I carefully head toward the pool making sure that potted plants and lawn furniture cause no bodily harm. There is not a single breeze but my body is tingling with the sensation that I am being watched.

I look around to be sure that a neighbor isn't out and about but it is too dark to see anything but the outline of the house and trees. As I get close to the steps into the pool, the smell of a cigar is much stronger and finally I can see the glow of the end of your cigar as you stand by one of the jets. You carefully put out the cigar and without making a sound or barely a ripple you walk to the bottom of the stairs, hold out your hand and in your sexy deep voice invite me to join you.

The water is delicious and refreshing. My body temperature is finally cooling down -- but not for long as you pull me into your arms and we slide underwater. As we surface our mouths meet -- and as I've told you many times - you can kiss! The water allows for every touch to be long and smooth. I become aware of your hard cock pressing against my stomach and I know you could feel my nipples against your chest. 

Hushed voices and soft moans are the only sounds adding to the night noises. After a long session of kissing and touching you get out of the pool without a word. Have you heard something? The need for you is so strong that I ache and hope you return quickly -- if not I just might have to take things into my own hands!

Moments later you return with an open bottle of crisp white wine and two glasses. As you hand me a glass, you take a seat on a towel beside the pool.

This is perfect -- a great glass of wine and my favorite appetizer -- you! I swim over to the side, take a sip of wine, and slide your gorgeous hard, thick, heavily veined cock into my mouth. As much as I try to accommodate all of you wine dribbles out of my mouth to run along your balls and back to your ass. Your moan vibrates along the length of you and tickles the back of my throat.

I can tell that I wasn't the only one who had taken a careful shave along with a shower. The hairless halo around the base of your cock is completely smooth as are your balls tight against my chin. I know that if you lay back and slide forward, the path all the way back to your tender and sensitive ass is shaved too. I alternate sips of wine with long moments of licking, sucking, and pleasing you.

Honestly, I pity any woman who doesn't know the thrill of pleasing their partner orally -- and you have the most delicious tasting cum.

When I finish my first glass of wine, it is quickly refilled but after just a couple of sips, you take the glass out of my hand, place it beside the pool and slip back into the water.

Wrapping your hands around my waist, I quickly find myself out of the water. You return my glass to me and with a wicked look toast me with your glass, take a sip, and place your mouth right over me - - the cold wine is a shock as you take my clit between your lips -- but quickly shock turns to pleasure as you lick, nibble, and suck me to my first climax of the evening.

With my legs over your shoulders and your head between my legs, I come with such a force that it takes a while realize that I am laying completely naked on the deck of our pool, in our neighborhood, and looking at the night sky full of stars. How fabulously wanton.

Bringing me back to sanity you gently kiss my thighs and my swollen pussy lips and you coax me back into the pool. As I slip into the water, you cup my bottom and settle me onto your engorged cock -- how amazing that pleasing me makes you even harder! We slide into water just a bit deeper and began a slow and purposeful fuck.

As I stated earlier, I love your cum -- so as I feel your cock get thicker and harder indicating your climax was close, I beg you to head toward the stairs so that I could replace my cunt with my mouth -- no reason to waste such a delicious treat to the swimming pool. 

After just a few quick strokes with my body, I scramble off and take you into my mouth just in time! Now it is your turn to lie back and enjoy the starlit night. I join you on the top step and we cuddle and stroke each other and share deep kisses. I'm not the only one who enjoys your taste -- so I always try to share the last few drops with you!

After a while, you announce that you are starving. Without a towel or a single item of clothing, you get up to start the grill. Following your lead, I go into the kitchen and throw together a salad and put a few potatoes into the microwave. I carry a loaf of bread out for you to warm on the grill next to a huge steak.

As you turn the steak, you wrap your arms around me and thank me for willingly participating in clothing optional weekend. Are you crazy -- a whole weekend with full access -- no, thank you!

When dinner is ready we pile it all onto one plate, sit at the patio table, slowly feeding each other and talk about our week -- all completely naked.

After cleaning up the dinner dishes we take another brief swim before heading into the house for a shower and bed. As we climb between the sheets and curl into each other, I become very aware that I am not the only one willing to play some more. As your hard dick slips into me and we settle into a sleepy rhythm, the question of whether or not we'll have sex tonight or tomorrow morning is quickly answered. 

Of course, you know how much I love to start the day -- so after seeing who has to get the paper (and what they wear to get it) it will be fun to see how many things we do before having to dress and go back to work on Monday. Weekends -- what a great payoff!

Chapter 2

Early Saturday morning -- his story:

Saturday mornings is normally my day to sleep in, but I was up early. So I pull on a pair of shorts, t-shirt and head to the street to get the paper and to Mickey D's for coffee. Once back in the house the attire for the weekend is resumed. The house has separation from the neighbors, but lots of glass on the first floor, so hardly absolute privacy.

I walk into the bedroom with the paper, coffee and a smile. You roll over, wipe sleep from your eyes and grin. It was obvious that I had recovered from last night and the day might begin where the night ended. You reach out and gently but firmly grab my hardening cock with your right hand as your left accepts the proffered coffee. The paper would wait.

After a few sips and polite conversation about whether the girls at the drive through might have known that there was nothing beneath the shorts, I reach over and gently massage your breasts. I notice the teeth marks on your breasts from last night's episode.

While you try to sip your coffee, I began one of my favorite activities, making lavish love to your breasts.

Unlike last night when the play got more aggressive, this morning my lips and tongue are slow, soft and deliberate. Your nipples, however, respond just as nicely to that gentle touch as they do to rough tweaking and twisting. Top to bottom -- side to side -- right -- left - I do nothing but massage, lick, and nibble. You squirm and take one hand and feed your tit into my mouth. 

Silently commanding me to take as much as your breast into my mouth as I can. Your hard nipple almost tickles the back of my throat. Your hips are squirming on the bed and out of the corner of my eye I see a free hand dip to your waist and you stroke your clit as I suckle your breast. 

I can hear your breath get more shallow and feel the pace of your free hand quicken as we work together to achieve your first orgasm of the morning. 

After you settle down for a moment, you remove your fingers from your pussy and feed me your juices. Your hand dips back to my waist where you find my rock hard cock. You pull me over on top of you insistently, reach between us, and guide my cock into your waiting cunt.

It's still early morning and we have all day but this fuck is hard, fast, and wanton. I pound my dick in and out. I can feel my cock sliding along your engorged clit. I rise up and we both watch my hairless cock and your bald pussy meet. 

You let out a small scream as you feel my cock thicken and with three more strokes I slam deep inside and you feel my balls spasm against your ass as my cock empties deep inside. My climax triggers a second one of your own and as I lie on top of you, I can feel you gently but firmly squeezing me -- coaxing every bit of cum from my cock.

I collapse on your shoulder and our chests heave against each other. As we regain our breath and our footing I think we both must have fallen asleep because the next thing I remember was my cock slipping out of your pussy. I roll over and ask for a slip of coffee. As always you are polite and generous, thanking me for the coffee, the paper and the wake- up call.

As you open the paper to read the morning headlines, you feel me move away. You don't stop me because you know where I'm heading. Perhaps unusual - perhaps not, but years ago we had learned that one of the pleasures of morning sex was morning clean up.

As you try to concentrate on the paper, you feel my head between your thighs and feel my tongue gently licking at the folds of your still engorged cunt. You quietly lay there as I lick and suck on your pussy. 

Just a note: Some people don't understand that there is nothing that I like better than the combined taste of my cum and your cunt juice. For those of you who have never tried it, I would encourage you to go down on your lover after making love and see how incredibly erotic it is to see the after- shocks of her orgasms squeeze out drops of your cum onto her lips. 

You like it when she sucks you off -- see how good it tastes when it's combined with her own juices.

So as you lie there, I gently lick and suck and carefully clean as much of our cream as I can from between your legs. Gentle after-shocks are all that is necessary. This isn't about trying to achieve mind blowing orgasms. This is about showing appreciation and establishing the mood for the rest of the day.

When it appears my job is done, you smile offer me some more coffee with my cream. Before taking a sip, you pull my face to yours and you use your tongue to clean my lips, my cheeks, my chin, and my tongue. After all -- it's about sharing and you've often told me that as much as you love the taste of my cum, you also love the taste of my cum and your pussy.

It was only 8:30 -- clothing optional weekend had 40 hours to go.

Chapter 3

Saturday breakfast and beyond --her story:

Let's be serious here -- clothing optional doesn't mean you have to be naked all weekend - sometimes you just have to be safe. 

While enjoying a quick breakfast, you begin preparation for your specialty to be served for dinner. A hot stove and a naked cock is not the best of ideas. You get in the towel drawer and carefully select one of my antique aprons and tie it around your waist. 

I get so tickled as you model it for me! Certainly it provides the protection that you are looking for -- but the shear, feminine fabric only enhances the outline of your assets. And speaking of assets -- the apron doesn't begin to cover your tight ass.

So as I finish the morning paper and another cup of coffee, I stay perched with you in full view. You know you're being watched -- so you launch into full food network hosting. The combination of humor and your bare bum are nearly too much. I grab the digital camera for a few private photos and you graciously rise to the occasion -- bending over to check the oven, get into bottom cupboards, and check the freezer...you know you're getting to me!

After you get your famous pizza to no more than final preparation, we head out to the gym off the garage for a workout. Again, gym equipment and full nudity aren't exactly smart -- so we head out in just shorts and shirts. The morning is already steamy and we quickly get to our own workouts.

I know that there are times when you can see up my shorts and that my shirt is frequently pulled taut across my breasts. I also get flashes of your cock and your well defined chest. After working up a good sweat, we head to the shower in the pool bathroom. 

Even though it's a snug fit -- we save water and soap and lather each other up. Adding water and soap to even the most casual touch adds heat. 

As we turn off the shower and open the bathroom door, we both spot the pool. Memories of last night cause each of us to chuckle. The neighborhood appears to be completely empty and there isn't a sound of yard chores or voices. 

We grab our suits and wrap a towel around and sneak across the patio and slide into the pool. Should anyone quickly appear at the gate, we have quick coverage just beyond the water. Using the water to completely relax muscles worked during our in and out of bed workouts, we slowly start swimming laps.

After a while, I decide to chance it and get a few hours of sun -- without tan lines. You help me position our lounges so that we can get sun but a location that affords us privacy from noisy eyes. I remind you that if the fence ever gets replaced -- it gets built higher! 

Before stretching out we trade off massaging suntan lotion on each other - - certainly neither of us want sunburn to cause any issues over the weekend. I very carefully lotion your back, you bare bottom, and your legs. I'm sure to run my slippery fingers between the cheeks of your ass and swirl my finger around your puckered ass.

I also reach between your legs to stroke your balls until I can feel them tighten. You roll over and I continue to rub lotion across your chest, along your arms, down your flat stomach, your long muscular legs, and of course your cock -- which by now has gone from semi hard to fully engorged.

I carefully remove a drop of pre-come with my tongue and smack my lips in appreciation. You remind me that sunning was my idea and if I didn't stop one of us would have an odd tan line created by the other's body. You return the favor by not only applying lotion but getting me stirred up.

We both try to get into our books, but every so often I reach out to run my fingers along your body. Each time I touch you I watch to see your cock twitch. I know that I'm getting wet just being able to look at you.

You casually stroke my breast and graze my nipple -- I hear your deep chuckle as my body arches into your hand. I read aloud a passage of the trashy paperback that I'm reading -- and your breath catches on a few of the passages. Finally, I can't take it anymore and I don't care if a neighbor is watching or not. 

I climb on top of you, slide your hard cock into my soaking wet pussy, and begin riding you. My clit is fully engorged, my breasts are swollen, and my nipples get even harder under your watchful eyes. Not a word is said. Your hands are gripped behind your head as you arch your hips into mine. My fingers and nails trace your sides, across your nipples, and along your waist. 

I reach behind myself and start to massage your balls. I look straight into your eyes as I lower my face to yours. Just before our mouths touch, I whisper "now -- please". Our tongues duplicate the pace as our bodies -- and with just a few more slides you empty into me.

The chef salad for lunch in the fridge will have to wait until I can get my eyes to focus and my feet to work. As I slip off of you, you grab my hand and guide me so that I straddle your face. This allows me full access to cleaning off your cock and balls as you carefully and gently clean my cunt for the second time today. 

We head into the house for lunch. The air-conditioning is working to keep the house cool. We enjoy a cold lunch and you settle down to enjoy a baseball game on television. When I run upstairs to put away a load of laundry, I take a few minutes to remove my chipped finger nail and toe nail polish. 

As I head back downstairs I can hear you yelling at the behind plate umpire. Things haven't changed in years - you love your teams and help however you can.

I love baseball but I love baseball movies more -- so when you offer to help me paint my toenails I immediately flash to Bull Durham and Kevin Costner painting Susan Sarandon's toenails. We pass the nail polish between us -- so toe and finger nails are wet at the same time.

When you slide your hand up my legs, raise an eyebrow in a wicked way, I know I'm in trouble. Not wanting to get polish on the furniture, I have no choice but to either move away or try to stay still as you continue to trail a path from my ankle to between my legs.

Very casually (and never once taking your eyes off the game) you start fingering my pussy. You very gently tease the outer lips until we both become aware of the scent of my arousal. As you slip a finger between my swollen inner lips, my hips rise to meet your hand. Again a steely look pins me to the sofa. With no great hurry, you continue to stroke, trace, tease, and please me.




Clothing Not Required



When you slide a finger inside of my cunt your thumb starts rubbing my clit. I know that I'm on the verge of coming and try to hang on as long as I can. You turn towards me, smile in your slow sexy way, and very simply say "come for me". I hear the crack of a bat, hear the crowd roar when the ball sails over the wall, the Cards score a grand slam, and I do just as you asked -- and come!

When you remove your fingers from between my legs I sit up and help you clean off our fingers. Our mouths meet in a tender kiss. You settle back to enjoy the rest of the game while I curl into your laps and take a quick cat nap. You allow your head to fall back onto the sofa and as my breathing settles in you join me in an afternoon nap.

When we wake up, we head out to the garage to wash the convertible. Not having to worry about getting clothes wet a water fight is inevitable. (Who knew when you put in the drain in the garage that naked car wash might be an option?)

After getting the car finished, we head back into the house to finish up dinner. For my entertainment, you put back on your pretty apron! The smell of homemade pizza fills the house with the best smell -- but with the outside temperatures still lingering in the 90's the kitchen is too hot to eat inside.

As sunset approaches a refreshing breeze begins to stir -- so dinner will be outside again. A few candles, a bottle of great red wine, and deep dish pizza is enjoyed as evening settles in and we sit back to watch the stars begin to show. Dinner mess is minimal and quickly dealt with -- so when you invite me for a nighttime swim there is no excuse.

And since the moon is still not up -- we can once again enjoy our pool without swimsuits. The water is delicious and our bodies fit so nicely together as we hold each other and slide under the water.

Chapter 4

Saturday night/Sunday morning -- his story:

A relaxing, caressing swim is in order with a lot of play, even foreplay if you will. But tonight is more about relaxing and enjoying. Not all hugs and kisses have to lead to fucking and sucking. After while we sit by the pool in our lounge chairs. At this hour it does not matter where they are. 

The evening air does the job of the towels. You finish the wine while I opt to run in the house to pour a scotch. We look at the stars and discuss the week, and this weekend, a bit longer. Then we head for bed. 

(For those expecting more here, let us be realistic. We are in our fifties. Maybe in our twenties, but then it was ALL about the sex). A few minutes of reading and I hear your breathing shallow and steady.

I gently get out of bed and walk around to move your book, hoping I marked the correct page, kiss your forehead and turn off the bedside lamp. Then I close my own book, turn off my light and settle back under the covers. You unconsciously, or not—I am never sure, roll over and snuggle into my back, reach an arm around my chest and pull me close. Spooned, we sleep.

Sunday mornings are Sunday mornings. I awaken early, start the coffee and head for my morning swim. The dawn is gray. I have always invoked an eight to eight rule. Swims before 8 a.m. and after 8 p.m. never require swim attire. And at 6:30 on a Sunday morning there is no danger of anyone looking into the back yard.

When I get back to the kitchen the coffee is ready, so I pour two cups and climb the stairs. Unlike yesterday, you are already awake. You take the coffee and, like yesterday, reach to play with my semi-erect dick. I slap your hand teasingly and remind you that we must get to church.

Quick showers and we make the first mass of the morning. Then to our favorite breakfast eatery. Mass is fine, as is breakfast. But knowing you and I are dressed so appropriately outwardly, but nothing beneath, makes even the sometimes mundane more fun. 

The sun begins to break though while we read the morning paper in the sunroom, having resumed our clothing plan for the day. We decide to take the now clean convertible out for a ride. I pull on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. You opt for loose fitting, short cargoes and a tropical print button up blouse.

The two lane country roads were made for this car. And we cruise. You look at me and grin mischievously, recline your seat and unbutton your blouse. Your breasts catch the noon day sun and the wind or something makes your areolas bumpy and your nipples erect. 

Left hand on the wheel, my right hand sneaks inside the leg of your shorts. I am hardly surprised to find your pussy wet. I finger your clit and you move in the seat. I desperately want to put a finger in your cunt, but at this angle it is impossible. 

We are on deserted county roads, thank goodness, because you reach down, unbutton your shorts, lower the zipper and move my hand. Your own hand takes its place. I watch out of the corner of my eye (wishing I could just stare) as you tease your own clit. This wanton show gets to me and I unzip my own shorts and allow my lengthening cock feel the air.

As I glance at you, I slowly stroke my cock, not wanting to have a wreck, but not wanting to waste an opportunity to play along. After a few minutes you arch your hips and insert two fingers as far in your cunt as you can. The few cars that pass us by in the opposite direction would die to see what I am seeing. 

Perhaps this stirs you on, because you giggle as I mention it. And soon you moan. I know that moan. I know your fingers are being squeezed as you orgasm around them. A couple of minutes later you fasten your shorts and raise your seat and feed your fingers to me.

The taste of you, as always, sends chills down my spine and to my erect dick. You reach across the console and squeeze my dick, pushing the clear pre-cum out the slit, gather it on your fingers and devour it. We both would like for you to replace your hand with your mouth, but this car is hardly made for mobile oral sex. 

Nor, unlike that sedan we had years ago, made for mobile fucking. So you just tease me with your delicate touch. When cars approach, from front or rear, you straighten up to pull your blouse together and drape my t-shirt over my hard on.

We have often talked of flashing passing truck drivers, but what you might be tempted to do on an interstate hundreds of miles from home seems a foolish on state roads in the same area code.

Neither of us can wait to get back to the garage, so cock in hands, we head home. Sunday afternoons in the neighborhood are generally pretty calm and today should be no different. 

Poolside sunning for all over tans is in order. And I ask you if you would by any chance be interested in a slightly different venue for the evening. You smile knowingly and assure me that you would be willing to prepare for a tumultuous conclusion to the weekend.

Chapter 5

The rest of the weekend - her story

Sunday afternoon is all about sunning and swimming. As afternoon turns towards evening, clouds begin to form and the air gets thicker, we head inside just as the first big drops of rain start to fall.

Sunday evening dinner is always a combination of cooking for that evening, preparing a crock pot to go on before work the next day, making our lunches, and lots of music. Every so often you swing me into your arms for an impromptu dance or a quick hug. As the rain lets up, you head out to throw dinner on the grill.

While on our drive through the country we had picked up some fresh corn and tomatoes at a small roadside market. Even with my blouse nearly buttoned up -- it felt a bit naughty to discuss weather, cucumbers, and rainfall with the good folks running the market knowing that I had enjoyed a richer taste!

After dinner, you offered to clean up the kitchen while I ran upstairs to prepare for our last evening of clothing optional weekend. I packed my gym bag for the next day and then headed to the shower to clean up. I knew what your venue of choice was for the evening and it requires a little bit of preparation.

A few years ago we started to discuss and research adding anal sex to our already creative lovemaking. Certainly a lot of the magazines and movies and web-sites were making it appear to be fun. Now I don't want to appear too graphic here, but honestly there is no way that this can be done comfortably or in a very clean manner if you don't prepare the site.

Perhaps all of the other couples in the magazines either aren't well endowed or the poor girls never eat solid food! We were over anxious only once and it was a complete disaster! I am more than willing to take a bit of extra effort in order to completely enjoy having my lover's cock stretch out my ass and fuck us to a mutually enjoyable climax -- but I've digressed.

You join me a bit later and pack your own gym bag and shower. I can tell that once again you've taken the time to shave any possible stubble from your balls, the path to your ass, the halo around the base of your cock, and any errant hair along your cock.

In order to show my appreciation for your efforts, I carefully touch and lick every square inch of you. You roll over with a stack of pillows under your chest and give me free access to your puckered ass. As I stroke your hard cock and tight balls, my mouth and tongue are busy pleasing your ass. 

I can tell that I'm doing a great job, because the pre-cum is now streaming from the tip of your cock. You beg me to stop before you climax and remind me that you have another place to finish the weekend.

I take your place on the pillows though you position me on my back with my legs over your shoulders. Your head is buried between my legs as you nibble my clit. The bridge of your nose replaces your mouth and keeps the pressure on my clit and you devour my pussy coaxing yet another climax from me. 

Just as I start to regain my breath, you start licking my ass -- duplicating the pace that I used on you just moments ago. As you pull away, I reach for the bedside drawer and get the bottle of lubricant. I very carefully work from the tip to the base of your cock. 

As you remove my hands from your gorgeous fully erect cock, you place your own hands at the base of your dick and begin a slow entrance into my very delicate ass.

Once you are fully inside of me and I've adjusted to your length and width, you set a very vigorous pace pounding into me. My feet are placed on either side of your hips and I meet you stroke for stroke. A slight change in angle and you are hitting my g-spot on every downward stroke.

I put my hands on either side of your face, pull your lips to meet mine, and very quietly ask you to come for me - - and you oblige.

Thankfully we set the alarm clock prior to starting. We fall asleep while you are still inside of me though at some point during the night we return to our normal sleeping position curled into each other.

When the alarm goes off, neither of us are thrilled to return to the world. Coffee and breakfast aren't near as fun in business attire. 

Before leaving for the office, I check my personal e-mail and discover that a boating trip a few weeks off has some changes. Our friends won't be able to join us until Sunday morning -- but their boat is ours beginning on Friday night and they will set up the GPS with directions to their favorite, private coves.

The only stipulation is that we must pick them up on Sunday and return to one of their hidden, skinny dipping swimming holes! If we have the boat to ourselves for that much time I'm thinking that I can convince you to not take many clothes.

I forward the e-mail to your office - - hoping it will make the transition to clothing easier.

The day seems to take longer than normal even with the enjoyment of aftershocks that I know are pushing drops of cum out of my ass. I head to the gym after work knowing that I need a market stop on the way home.

As I pull out my workout wear, a note flutters to the floor -- "when you shower put on the least amount of clothing before coming home!" So a brutal workout and a quick shower is followed by a run through the market in only a sundress.

There is no doubt that I have on no bra when I hit the dairy aisle. I gather the groceries to my chest trying to hide my hard nipples but the young guy at checkout is sporting a big smile while scanning my items.

As I pull into the driveway, a pair of swim trunks is hanging on the door into the house. Clothing optional might not be just for weekends anymore!



Clothing Optional



Clothing optional? Who do they think they're kidding? It was a nudie camp, plain and simple. The official name was "Summer Sun Camp (Clothing Optional)."

From the moment I heard about it I knew I had to go. In mid-life I had discovered I had a latent propensity toward voyeurism and exhibitionism. My girlfriend, and sometimes lover, Lisa, agreed to go with me. We each plunked down $2000 for a week and sailed away. The two grand included everything but booze that would be charged to the credit card number we provided.

The camp wasn't a camp at all, but rather a very posh, small private hotel-type resort on a secluded island just off the Coast of Grand Cayman Island in the Caribbean. All rooms were one-bedroom suites. The facilities consisted of two long, low, two-story hotel buildings, one on either side of an Olympic sized swimming pool. In all, there were only about 60 guest rooms. At the South end of the pool was a small building with a bar, cabanas and toilet facilities. Beyond the bar was the beach. At the other end of the pool was a large building with the restaurants, shops, casino and lobby area.

We arrived in mid-afternoon and were told there would be a get acquainted "clothing optional" manager's cocktail party around the pool at four PM. The main dining room, which was also "clothing optional", would be open at seven. In answer to my question, the host told me that almost everybody would be nude all week, even at the get acquainted party. He said that some of the regulars never wore any clothes except upon arrival and departure.

Unfortunately, we didn't take him at his word and I wore shorts and a halter-top to the cocktail party. Lisa had shorts but she opted for a calypso style blouse, tied at the midriff without any buttons, to show off her 38 DD breasts. We showed up exactly at four only to find that he was right, the few people there were wearing hats, shoes and almost nothing else. Most were completely nude but almost every body had something on their head. Lisa and I were in immediate agreement and started back to our room to get more into the swing of things. 

We went around a decorative hedge that divided the hotel from the pool area and ran headlong into a huge, 50ish, man, wearing nothing but a cowboy hat and boots, urinating in the bushes. He turned slightly toward us, smiled and nodded a friendly 'hello' while the golden water continued to squirt from the end of his penis. We were within ten feet of him and, with his hand, he carefully aimed the stream away from us.

As long as I have been around I have never looked directly at a man while he was peeing. I found it highly erotic. I wanted to take it in my hand and aim it at something. While we watched, the stream slowly waned and eventually stopped, with just a few drops dribbling out of the end. I looked at Lisa and her eyes were glued to his water hose, her mouth open.

"Sorry to have startled you ladies, I hope I haven't offended you." He had a distinctive western accent. "You're new here aren't you?" He shook a few more drops from that beautiful instrument and said, "I'm John Williams but everybody calls me Tex." He started to offer his hand, (the one he had been steering with) then thought better of it and said, "I'm on my way to the party. Will I see you ladies there?"

"Yes, we will be back in a few minutes when we are dressed or rather undressed more appropriately," I giggled. I had to pull Lisa away; she was still gaping at his equipment. He smiled at us and waived as we went around the corner of the building, out of sight.

Back in our room, Lisa was very excited. "Did you see the size of his cock? I thought I was going to cum in my panties when I saw him peeing. God, I wanted him to pee on my hands or feet." She was rubbing herself in such a way I thought we might not make it back to the party.

She took off her shorts and tried to untie her blouse but she was so flustered she only knotted it tighter. "Can you help me with this?"

I tried to undo it after I took my clothes off, but looking down on those big, soft breasts, the moment it came open, I buried my face in them. The nipples were big and hard. I suckled for a moment before she raised my head and looked deep into my eyes.

I kissed her as she cupped my sensitive breasts. My hands were caressing the skin of her shoulders and I could feel the urgency in her warm, soft hands against my boobs, lightly kneading my growing nipples with her thumb. 

We kissed again and I slipped my hands between her legs. She moaned softly when my hand touched her bare upper thigh. I stroked her soft skin with the tips of my fingers. Her quick intake of breath told me she was enjoying this, so I let my fingers probe deeper into her slit.

I felt her shudder as I again took her nipple into my mouth. I could feel the wetness between my own legs growing. My hand was fondling her shaven paradise. She shuddered again as my hand stroked the soft folds of her pussy lips, I was still sucking on her right nipple. 

She pulled me away from her breast and leaned over to kiss me. Our mouths meet with the hunger of lust that had been building since we arrived at this arena of carnal delights. The wetness between my legs was oozing down my thighs. We continue to kiss, breast to breast, our hands all over each other. We both knew it was time to move to the bedroom. 

We rolled into bed, reveling in the feeling of naked skin against naked skin. I could feel her wetness on my leg as we rolled together on my sheets. Her smiling face hovered above me. She whispered, "I want you," and lowered her mouth to mine in another tender kiss. The longer we kissed, the bigger my needs were until I was on the verge of an orgasm. 

Lisa reached between my legs and found my wetness. I opened my legs more for her and almost came from her touch. Her skillful fingers heightened my arousal, caressing me as only she could. I felt my back arch as a moan escaped my lips. My ecstasy was continuing to build as she kissed her way down my body. I opened my legs as wide as I could when I felt her kisses move down from my belly towards my pulsing womanhood. Her mouth descended on my pussy and her lips began sucking at my little knot of pleasure. 


The softness of Lisa's lips against my labia sent an electric shock through my body. It was all I could do to keep from screaming, "Oh, my God!" My climax was so complete that it left me week and gasping for breath. 

After a joyful eternity, Lisa released her suction hold on my clitoris, grabbed my hips and rolled us into the 69 position. I moved to her directions immediately, wanting, needing my mouth on her while her fingers pushed inside me. I felt her hands again on my hips and saw her succulent pussy opening for me. I instinctively backed into her mouth, only to have her drive her fingers further into me as I dove into her wetness. Our moans were harmonious as we launched into each other, licking and sucking and fingering away with abandon, her hands clenched to my hips, pulling me towards her. 

I heard her call my name as my own second orgasm was but a moment away. Her cum filled my mouth as I climaxed with her. Our cumming together only drove her to finger me harder which only made me cum more as we cried out together. I felt her last push into me as she tried to extend her own climax. When it was over, we collapsed in a heap on my bed. 

Lisa was gasping for breath when she said, to "Oh my God, I fantasized that Tex peed on me just as I was about to cum."

I didn't tell her that I was dreaming something along those same lines. "Lets get back to the party before all the booze is gone." I was really thinking, "Before Tex finds someone else and leaves."

We both did a quick wash up to get rid of the aroma of pussy, put on hats and set out to meet the rest of the guests, completely nude except for our sandals and hats.

Lisa giggled, "I'm so horny, I hope there's not anything running down my legs."

I couldn't tell her I felt the same way. Just thinking about going out to the party nude made my pussy wet again. 

Back at the party, more people had arrived. I tried to count heads but the sea of bare flesh was too much for me, but I think there were perhaps 50 or 60 people there. 

Because of my swinging lifestyle, I had often seen people naked, both men and women, but never more than one or two at a time. One of my fetishes was bare skin. I loved to see it, touch it, feel it, caress it and even put it in my mouth. There was more than enough here to satisfy my wildest fantasies.

A couple of things stood out in my mind. The first was that the women outnumbered the men almost two to one. The second was the ages of the people there. The women ran the gamut from the young hot bodies in their 20s, to the far more mature seniors in their '60s, while the men were almost all bracketed between their early 40s through late '50s. The only exceptions were a young couple, perhaps lovers or honeymooners, two very gay men in their 30s and the resort staff, all male.

Lisa wandered away and was soon in a deep conversation with a handsome man that I took to be in his early 40s. 

I spotted Tex, alone, looking over the ocean of breasts, buttocks, pussys and penises. From his vantage point over the heads of the rest of the crowd, (6ft 4in) he must have had a good view of the area. He spotted me right away and waved me over. 

He offered me his hand and said, "Hi darlin'. Hope you and your little friend are having a good time." When he saw my hesitation to take the huge bear paw he laughed, "Don't worry, I washed it since the last time you saw me." 

I know it was a reflex but I couldn't help but look down at his cock and picture in my minds eye the sight of him holding it and the stream of golden liquid emanating from it. A shiver went through me. I finally had to laugh with him, "It's just that I had never really looked at a man relieving himself before."

"Why not? It's a natural thing that happens to every one. It's just as natural as being nude. I bet that even you do it. Have you ever let a man see you do it?"

The conversation was having an unusual effect on me. Rather than being uncomfortable I was getting turned on and even wanted to let him watch me pee. "No, I don't think I have, at least not on purpose."

"It has always been one of my fantasies to have a woman go on me. Will you let me see you pee?"

"Oh, I don't think..."

"Nonsense. I have already seen you nude and I notice that you even shave your pussy so there must be a little exhibitionist in you. It can be quit a turn on."

"Did it turn you on when we caught you?"

"God yes. I had one hell of a hard on by the time you left. Look, I'm beginning to get another one now."

He was right! His beautiful cock had begun to swell to magnificent proportions.

I don't what got into me but I said, "I'll tell you what, I'll let you watch while I go if you will let me hold yours while you do it."

He laughed a little. "I would love that but I don't know if you are aware that a man has difficulty peeing when he is hard, and you holding my dick would definitely make it hard. Can you pee when you are excited?"

"I don't know, I never tried."

"Why don't you come up to my room and we can experiment."

"But Lisa…"

"I think she is fending for herself but if you want, bring her along. We can try all sorts of things."

He was right; Lisa was dancing with her new acquaintance and grinding herself into him. The way he was grinding back I knew it wouldn't be long before they would be doing a horizontal dance.

"Well, it does sound intriguing, so I guess it would be okay, but I need to let Lisa know."

"I think you are a little late, she went off toward the rooms with her friend a moment ago. Come on and I will let you live out your fantasy."

So, we both grabbed another drink from the bar and off we went.

His room was in the same building as ours but on the ground floor. He opened the door and ushered me in. It was a nicely furnished suite with sliding glass doors opening out the back onto a very secluded, lanai area, surrounded on all sides by walls, too high to see over. 

He nodded toward the lanai, "That is very private, ideal for sunbathing or anything else you might want to do without being seen." He turned to me and said, "I'm a little embarrassed. I have been coming here for about six years and have met many women, but you are the first that wanted to hold my penis while I peed."

"I think many others wanted to do it, I may just be the first one that said so."

He chuckled a little and said, "You may be right. I have always wanted to have a woman pee on me but I could never bring myself to say so until tonight. Well, now that we are here what do we do first? How are we going to go about this?"

I eyed his beautiful appendage and said, "Well, --er--, do you have to go now?" Every time I looked at it, it got a little bigger.

"I did, but thinking about you holding it is getting me excited and I wont be able to go when I am hard."

I looked again. Now, it was full size and as gorgeous as any thing I had ever seen. "I think I have a cure for that. Sit down in that chair and let me see what I can do to fix things."

He sat and I kneeled in front of him. I began to fondle and caress it, marveling at its symmetry. It was the smoothest and most perfectly proportioned cock I had ever seen. I couldn't help myself, I had to kiss it, take it in my mouth and feel the texture of the skin, taste the slick pre-cum that was already oozing out of the end.

He stirred a little and said, "I really like that, but it would be a lot better if you were sitting on my mouth so I could taste you while you were doing that to me. Lets go into the bedroom."

So we went into the bedroom and I did sit on his mouth. I had been horny all day and the quick session with Lisa had done little to alleviate that, so the moment his tongue touched me, I felt the impending orgasm. It felt so good, I was having difficulty paying attention to what I was doing his dick. The more I sucked and caressed, the further he stuck his tongue in my pussy. Within moments I was ready but I wanted him to cum with me. I swallowed as much of him as I could, sliding his big cock in and out of my mouth. I could tell he was just as close as I was. He was bucking his hips up to meet my downward strokes, fucking my mouth with his cock the same as he was fucking my pussy with his tongue.

Suddenly, there was a gusher of warm semen in my mouth and a loud moan from him. He quit licking my pussy for a moment and then re-attacked it with renewed vigor. The land of ecstasy was beckoning to me, so I went, surrendering to my third orgasm in less than two hours. Each time his tongue touched my clitoris a shiver of orgasmic bliss went through me until I was so sensitive that I couldn't stand it. I finally rolled off him and turned around to cuddle up, snug and content in his arms. We fell asleep with my hand cradling his soft cock as if it were a most precious treasure. I don't know how long later, I awoke to find him, still nude, flat on his back, snoring softly with his soft cock still nestled in my hand.

A couple of playful caresses and his eyes opened. He smiled at me when he said, "I was dreaming that someone was playing with my dick and damn, when I woke up, it was happening." He gave me a very strange look and said, "I need to go to the bathroom. Do you want to be involved?"

"I sure do! I need to go too, maybe I'll join you, but lets go out into your little garden area." I grabbed him by the hand and drug him from the bed. "Come on, I want to steer. It's too bad there isn't some snow; I would love to write my name in it using your 'tool'. I hope you need to go as bad as I do!"

He was laughing as I pushed him into the liana. "There is enough light from the main room, we don't need to turn on the light out here."

I quickly followed him out, took hold of his shoulders from behind and aimed him at a small bush on the side, by the wall. "OK? You start and let me steer."

I moved around on his left side and took hold of it just as he started squirting against the bush. A thrill went through me as I felt the water coursing through his cock and out the end. I was like a child with a new toy as I played with the stream, aiming it at first one thing then another. Finally, I felt that it would wane soon so I moved around in front of him and aimed it at my bare feet. The warm urine washing over me was like an aphrodisiac. The moment it touched my feet I felt my pussy tingle and was disappointed when it slowed to a dribble and then stopped completely. 

I still had hold of his dick and within seconds felt it start to grow in my hand. He was smiling when he said, "You better stop and let go of me or we will need to go back into the bedroom again."

OK, lets go but first I need to go to the bathroom myself."

"Not so fast, I let you see me, now, I want to feel you pee on me." His hand quickly went between my legs and began rubbing my pussy.

"If you don't stop, I'll pee in your hand!"

"Go ahead, that's what I want you to do."

So, I did. I felt like I had a gallon saved up. I peed on his hand, my legs, on the walk of the lanai and, just for good measure, got it all over his lower legs. I almost had a climax from his hand massaging my pussy as I peed.

When it was over, he said, "Come on, let's have a shower and then see what other fantasies we can act out."

We didn't have a shower as such. He bathed me. His big hands, made soft with soap brought me to the edge of orgasm time after time as he rubbed and massaged every part of my body. I was so hot that when I tried to do the same thing to him I couldn't keep my hands off his cock. He got such a hard on it was impossible to finish. 

I leaped from the shower and, still wet, ran for the bedroom with him in hot pursuit. He caught me just inside the door and we tumbled, still wet, laughing and giggling into the king sized bed. My laughter was just subsiding when he looked deep into my eyes and said, in all seriousness, "I can't tell you how exciting I find you. I have never enjoyed a woman as much as I have you. What can I do to make up for what you have done for me?"

"Do you really mean that?"

"Of course I do!"

" Well, I am going to ask you to do something you might find strange."

"Any thing you want, no matter how strange."

"What I want you to do is not strange, in fact, I know you will like it. What is strange is that I would ask you to do it. I want you to fuck me doggie style, with me on my knees on the bed and you standing behind me on the floor. That's the way my dead husband liked it best, and you remind me a lot of him."

I was right! He was happy to oblige and in just a moment he was standing behind me, his big cock sliding slowly in and out of my pussy, his balls slapping against my thighs. I had my ass high in the air, my shoulders on the bed and my hand between my legs, alternately caressing his balls and rubbing my clit. He had hold of my hips pushing and pulling me back and forth on his hard pole. We were both grunting with each inward thrust. It felt like my entire lower body was full of his cock but wanted even more.

Slowly, I could feel the climax building deep inside me. It crept up out of the deepest recesses of my body until it blotted out all reason and over took my entire being. Wave after wave of ecstasy coursed through me until I had almost no control over my body. I just lay there, almost in a stupor, while he continued to pump in and out. I scarcely felt it when his entire body stiffened and, with a tremendous groan, he pulled me hard against him. I was barely aware of his seed, pulse after pulse, shooting into me.

He released me and, so exhausted I couldn't move, I coiled into a fetal position with him spooned tight against me. The rapture of the sexual release, coupled with the strength of his body pressed hard against me was all I needed to lapse into a, coma like, sleep. 




Clothing Optional



When she had suggested it first, Susan was sure she was just joking. But when she raised it again, without having drunk a bottle of wine, Susan started to give the idea some thought.

Vicki was her best friend - completely wild, but her best friend. She had only known her for about 6 years, since they started nursing together in the same hospital. They had immediately hit it off and got on well.

Vicki had been there for her through the trauma of her seperation from her husband a year ago and had seen her through the rough times.

Susan was just about over that now. After 15 years of marriage it had been hard to adjust to a single life again but she was getting there. After her intial reservations she had dated a few guys. After she got over her nervousness she found herself able to relax with men and enjoyed the attention. It was great for her to feel attractive again and to feel like a teenager dating again, experiencing anew the wonderful sensations of being kissed and touched.

On two occasions since the split with her husband she had let her dates go further than mere touching and rediscovered the passion of sex that her marriage had lacked for so long. The first time, in the back of a married colleagues car was like losing her virginity all over again, it was heated and passionate but all over rather too quickly. The second, in her bed in her apartment was slow and wonderful culminating in her most intense orgasm ever. 

At nearly 40 while starting to show the signs of her age she still looked good. She wore her jet black hair in a pony tail usually. At 5'7 she still did her best to keep in shape and while her breasts were starting to sag ever so slightly she knew men still liked to catch a glimpse of her 36d chest. Her bum she often wished smaller but she consoled herself that it was proportionate to the rest of her body. 

Vicki, like her, was nearing her 40th birthday. She had never married but never lacked boyfriends. Guys seemed attracted to her infectious smile, her fiery red hair and her petite slim figure.

So, as they were both approaching 40, Vicki had proposed celebrating their birthdays abroad. But not just a normal sun holiday. What Vicki was proposing was a stay in an exclusive adult resort in the South of France.

Susan took some persuading, but the thought of sunshine, a completely relaxed environment and the chance to finally shake off her past appealed to her.

Two months later they were stepping out of the taxi outside the complex about 6 miles from the nearest town, somewhere in Southern France.

It was late evening so they checked into their villa and decided on a drink before they went to bed.

As they walked to the bar it struck Susan that the place looked like a normal holiday complex. Villas and bungalows formed the living accomodation. A large swimming pool was surrounded by lawns and bushes, amongst which sun loungers and deck chairs were positioned.

The main building they had been told housed the restaurants, bars etc.

They found a bar and took a seat while the waitress brought them their drinks. Around them various people sat drinking and chatting. Vicki pointed out a sign on the wall indicating that the bar they were in had a dress code of sorts. The girls giggled as they read the instructions which noted that full nudity was not permitted in this particular area. The waitress noted their interest and explained that this bar and the dining room were the only areas where clothing had to be worn. Clothing in all other areas of the complex was optional and in one bar and at some of the parties they held, clothing was not permitted at all.

The girls relaxed after their journey and enjoyed a couple of drinks before retiring to bed.

Next morning, Susan was up early, feeling refreshed and looking forward to a blast of sunshine. Vicki on the other hand preferred to doze and told Susan she would join her by the pool later.

It was a beautiful morning and Susan strolled down to the pool in her shorts and t shirt. She found a sun lounger and sat for a moment to take in her surroundings.

There were a few people lying out already in various stages of undress. Most of the women were topless regardless of age or shape. Some were completely naked lying stretched out in the sun. Similarly most of the men were naked and Susan was amused to be able to admire from a distance the qualities of them all.

Susan slipped off her clothes and decided to leave her bikini in place for the present. She lay back in the sunshine and started to read a book.

After a while things got a bit busier and the 2 empty loungers beside her were occupied by a man and his wife. From their accents she guessed they were German. The woman was blonde and very attractive and she undressed revealing small firm breasts and to Susans surprise a completely shaven pussy. Her all over tan revealed that she was well used to sunbathing naked. 

The man was older, maybe in his mid 40's. He was also tanned and like Susan contented himself with reading as the sun bathed his slightly overweight naked body.

After a while he acknowledged Susans presence and they struck up a conversation. He was inded German and came here every year. Susan relaxed as they chatted and found herself enjoying his company.

When he found out she had only just arrived he offered to show her around the complex. Susan hesitated but his wife insisted, told her that it was important to know where everything was etc.

To her relief he pulled on a loose pair of shorts and they headed off for the guided tour. 

First stop was the sports area where there were tennis courts, a gym and a basketball court. The man, Gert, showed her the saunas and steam rooms and then the jacuzzi area at the rear of the building. 

There were 4 jacuzzis each capable of seating up to 8 people. Only one was being used at that time, a grey haired man sat back in it an arm around each of the two naked women who sat beside him.

The tour continued and Gert showed Susan the retaurants and bars, the dance floor, TV lounge and games room. He then led her to the massage area where a viewing window let them watch a man of about 30, lying naked on the table, being massaged by a topless masseuse. Susan found it quite arousing watching her running her hands over the mans back, her breasts occasionally brushing against his skin. She was intrigued to see how the massage continued but Gert was moving off again so she followed.

He brought her to the bar where she had been last night and they chatted as they had a drink. The only room remaining to be seen, he told her, was the video lounge. Drinks finished, he suggested they have a quick look before returning to the pool. 

The video lounge was down a long corridor and the door opened into a darkened room. In the half-light Susan could distinguish quite a number of booths, deep soft seats for 2 persons each with a video screen in front of them. Gert led her to one, away from the door and sat in beside her. She was immediately conscious of his leg against hers as they sat down. 

He turned on the screen, explaining that the video was linked to the closed circuit television in the complex so you could watch the activity in various areas or your choice of erotic movie. He flicked through the screens and Susan stopped him when the massage area appeared on the display in front of them.

The same man she had seen earlier lay on his back on the table. She watched as the masseuse slowly stroked his erect cock as he in turn sucked on her breasts. Susan was enthralled, wrapped up in what she was watching.

Gert asked was she enjoying it, did she enjoy seeing the man being pleasured. She turned to answer him, to see a stange look on his face. She glanced down, realised that he had pulled down his shorts and like the man on the screen was sporting a large erection.

She hesitated, but he suggested that she be his masseuse and moved her hand on to his erect cock.

On the screen the masseuse was kicking off her skirt revealing her tanned bum. As Susan watched she began to massage Gerts cock, hearing his breathing quicken as she did.

She smiled to herself, wondering what Vicki would say if she could see her now.

Gert moved to kiss her face, her cheeks and then her throat. His hands roamed over the front of her bikini seeking out her hardening nipples. Susan kept her eyes on the screen and then felt the strings on her bikini opening and her breasts falling forward.

He was whispering in her ear as he massaged her heavy breasts, telling her she was beautiful, telling her how big her tits were and how good they felt. Susan was very aroused both by the images on the screen in front of her and by the touches of the man beside her.

Her hand moved faster up and down his entire length. As he kissed and sucked her breasts she let her other hand massage his balls.

He told her he knew she was aroused, that he could smell her excitement. As he said that he tugged at her bikini pants and smiled as Susan lifted herself slightly to let him slip them off.

His fingers lingered in her thick bush of black hair, caressing and exploring before he let one glide gently over her swollen clit and down between her pussy lips. He probed gently letting it slip inside her then pulled his finger away and up to her face.


He showed her his finger glistening from her juices then licked it and told her she was ready from him.

The activity on screen had been forgotten as Susan allowed herself to be moved on to his knees, facing him.

He leaned back, instructed her to take him inside her. She reached down, her body tingling and alive. She took his hard cock and rubbed it against her wet pussy lips letting her juices lubricate him. Then she moved him allowing the swollen head of his cock to slide inside her. She lifted herself slightly, then with an audible moan let her weight slide down on him and his thick member push deeply up into her.

She leaned forward, cupped her breasts in her hands and offered them to his mouth. He devoured them as they began to move together, slowly at first and then faster.

Susan closed her eyes and let her needs take over and as he sucked hard on her nipple she cried out as she orgasmed. He moved with her, letting her enjoy it fully then relaxed as her body did.

She slid down letting his cock release itself from her hot interior. He gently maintained pressure on her as she moved down until she was kneeling on the floor.

He moved forward, his cock soaked in her scent touched her lips. Instinctively she opened her mouth, took it in and began to suck it and lick it.

He was moaning, pushing his full lenghth into her throat. To her relief he came quickly and his hot cum filled her mouth as he did. She allowed him finish then swallowed what she could, the remainder dribbling over her breasts.

He held her for a short while. She put her bikini pants back on and they left together. At the door she thanked him and watched as he returned to his wife.

She turned, ran to find Vicki, desperate to tell her best friend all the details!



Clothing Optional



This a true story from a couple of years ago. My wife, Diane, and I (my name is Dan, by the way) decided to make the drive down to Key West to celebrate valentines day. We left immediately after work and decided to drive all night to the hotel. I had my usual work clothes on (jeans and a polo, had on her black skirt, nylons and a nice blouse). Believe it or not Key West in February is a nice 70 degrees during the day. Now I should preface this by saying that I have a small penis. It's about four inches erect and a little turtle head while soft. My wife is about 5'7 with b cup breasts and a nice big ass. I am 6'1 and of average build. We both share a small penis humiliation fetish.

We stopped in at a bar that sat right before the actual keys to get directions and use the ATM. The bar was dark with lots of neon lights and there were a few people scattered around. We made our way to the bar and I started getting directions from an older, albeit attractive bar tender. Being a young couple (26 and 25 years old), it wasn't long before a large muscular man in a sleeveless shirt took notice of this and took a seat next to Diane.

They started to make small talk but I was busy trying to get directions and repeatedly getting distracted by the bar tenders cleavage to notice what they were talking about. Just then I felt a petite hand creep across my crotch and begin groping me through my jeans. My wife has always been really kinky but this for some reason surprised me. I pulled up a stool and sat down. Her hand closed around my balls and started to squeeze. She leaned over and whispered that she would wait for me in the car. 

I talked to the bar tender for about another fifteen minutes (just long enough for my boner to go down a bit) and made my way back to the car. Once we were back on the road my wife shifted side ways in her seat to get comfortable and rested her feet in my lap. We made small talk and after a while she started to really rub her feet against my cock and balls through my jeans.

"Do you know what that guy in the bar talked to me about?" she asked.

"No, what?"

"He asked if your were my husband. When I said yes he said he bet he had a bigger dick than you."

My cock was throbbing against her left foot as her right rubbed a bit more intensely against my balls.

"I told him it probably was and he offered to show it to me."

I started to unzip my pants and her left foot pushed my hand away.

"Little Dan doesn't get to come out yet... I told him not to take it out but just describe it to me. He said it was ten inches and very thick... Hmmm... That's more than twice the size of your little wiener, isn't it?"

I was completely on the edge and about to cum when she removed her feet from my lap and announced she was tired and going to try to take a nap. The rest of the drive was agony. We made it to the hotel at about midnight and we got changed and ready for bed. She was sitting on the edge of the bed in her night shirt and I walked up in my pajama bottoms to kiss her goodnight.

"Your not mad at me about that little tease earlier are you?" she asked.

"No, never. I love it when you tease me, you know that."

"I know, sometime I think I'm too mean though."

"You could never be too mean. I love you."

"I love you,too... Are you starting to get hard?"

Her gaze was now my groin and mine followed. I was starting to get a little bulge going. Her hand reached up and began to massage my balls through my pj's.

"Were you thinking about my little tease, me talking to that guy about his huge cock or the bar tenders cleavage?" she asked.

"Mmmm... You noticed that, huh?"

"Uh-huh, your little dick would have disappeared between those giant things."

She lowered my pajama pants and told me to stroke it for her. She then told me about how she should have taken the chance to see the big one when she had it. Next she scooted back on the bed and pressed her foot into my balls. Afer a couple of minutes I started to groan heavily and she told me to cum on her foot. I shot a huge load all over her toes and up her leg a bit. Afterwards we cleaned up and and finally went to sleep. 

The next day we wandered around Key West (me in loose fitting shorts, a t-shirt and sandals. My wife had a knee length flowing skirt, a tube top with no bra and flip flops) taking tours and hitting local tourist traps. In the late after noon we noticed a sign on the side of a building that read "the Garden of Eden." Curious, we followed the sign up the steps to the roof of another bar. To our shock, this bar that sat on the roof of another bar was clothing optional! There were several older guys walking around completely nude and a topless bartender with gigantic breasts who looked like she was in her mid thirties.

We sat at the bar and had some drinks, my wife couldn't help but gawk at all the exposed penises and loved pointing out the really big ones to me. After a while I excused my self to the restroom and when I came back my wife was in the middle of the room and chatting up some of the locals. I made my way back to the bar and made small talk with the bar tender, all the while she was giggling.

"I'm sorry, what's funny?" I asked.

"Your wife told me about you."

"Oh... What did she tell you?" I responded nervously.

"You know, about your LITTLE problem."

Just then a couple of twenty something girls in bikinis walked in and sat next to me. One looked to be about 5 foot even with strawberry blond hair and a flat chest. The other was brunette and looked to have c-cup breasts. They took a seat next to where I was standing.

"Look, it's not that bad, she just likes to exaggerate." I assured her.

"Really, 'cause she said you just have a little nub for a dick." she shot back.

The two girls next to me heard and started to giggle while looking at me then back at each other.

"That's not true! I mean, it's not huge but it's definitely not small!" I almost yelled.

"Oh really!?" said an all to familiar voice behind me. Just then a pair of petite hands gripped the sides of my shorts and boxers and whipped them down to my knees! The girls next to me burst out laughing and one of them gave the small penis sign with her thumb and index finger. The bar tender jumped and leaned over the bar and exclaimed that her nipple was bigger while laughing.

In a rush I tried to pull my shorts and underwear back up but my wife was still squatting behind me and was pushing them to my ankles. After a while I just gave up. One of the girls tom my left said it looked like a cocktail wiener and I started to get a bit erect. My wife stood up and told them if they kept making fun of it it would only get bigger.

The comments seemingly came from all angles: my little brother is bigger than that; it's like a little shrimp; oh my god it's only like five inches! "Worse," Diane said, "it's only four!" With that she grabbed my pin dick and started stroking. The brunette girl to my left asked if something that small can cum and she said yes, but he might need a little help. The girls look at each other than back at Diane.

Diane lowered her tube top and exposed her erect nipppes. The girls sighed and lifted their bikini tops up over there breasts. It was all too much and I couldn't help but shoot a huge load all up my wife's arm. Later we went back to the hotel room and she made me fuck her while telling her about all the other dicks she saw their.



Clothing Optional



The short boat ride to the snorkeling site gave the eight couples a chance to don their fins and masks while chatting about the accommodations and activities at the idyllic resort. Last night's reception allowed them to make initial acquaintances and the atmosphere, though totally welcoming, was charged with tension; naked bodies lit by candlelight could never be mundane. Brought out of her reverie by the sound of the boat's motor reversing, Beth's gaze was drawn to the small silver barbell that pierced the left nipple of Marie, the sleek young French woman sitting on the opposite side of the boat. Somehow, she had missed seeing that adornment last night although she and Greg had spent many minutes talking with Marie and her Italian fiancé, Carlo. She had never seen such jewelry in person and the blatantly erotic nature had an instantaneous and profound effect. She hoped that her arousal couldn't be detected by the others as her skin suffused with heat. Fortunately, even Greg didn't detect the flush of her face in the bright sun.

Initially nervous about vacationing at a clothing-optional destination, Beth soon found that constant nudity erased her self-consciousness as she watched the ease with which the others went about their activities, seemingly oblivious to the "flaws" of sags, bulges and the stray wrinkle. After awhile the nakedness was seen much as a sort of clothing unto itself, barely noticed and in varied styles.

The crew consisted of the boat's captain, a mate and two in-water guides, all fit young men and all gloriously unclothed, their chocolate Caribbean skin shining under the bright blue sky. After the boat had been secured to the mooring buoy, the smiling captain turned to the group and announced, "The pool is open!"

The first and second guide along with the snorkeling party all splashed into the water with giant strides off of the side of the boat. They were moored just a few yards from the top of a huge reef. As they swam toward the coral, the view was breathtaking. Floating almost motionless, they marveled at the marine life darting in and out of the lush habitat. This beat even the best aquarium and Beth reached out to gently grasp Greg's hand as they shared the wonder of nature.

After an hour, that seemed like minutes, the captain gave a short blast on the boat's horn and they swam back to the boat, taking turns boarding the ladders at the stern. Wet but elated, everyone piled onto the boat and removed their gear while chattering about all they had seen. The crew laid out fresh fruit and everyone snacked as they made their way back to the marina. 

One of the fairer-skinned of the party, Beth's nose, cheeks and ears were beginning to redden and she asked Greg to apply more sunscreen, lest she develop a burn. As he massaged the lotion into her skin, Beth glanced over to see Marie staring transfixed: her eyes unblinking and half closed. She watched Greg's strong mahogany hands massage the lotion into Beth's ivory skin, breathing through her mouth while staring unabashedly. A little self-conscious under the ravenous gaze, Beth closed her eyes and relaxed under her husband's gentle attention.

When they arrived at the marina, Maria and Carlo caught up with Greg and Beth as they walked back toward their cabana.

"After we clean up, would you like to join us for lunch?" Carlo asked.

"Sure," Greg and Beth replied in unison. 

"We'll see you in a bit, after we get rid of the sand and salt," Laura added.

The shower was actually outside on the patio, shielded by bamboo walls but open above. They luxuriated in the warm water, lathering each other under the brilliant sky. Within minutes, Greg's arousal was apparent and Beth took great pleasure in stroking his thick shaft as they washed and rinsed.

Emerging from the shower and beginning to dry off, Beth looked at Greg with mock-sternness and said, "Surely, you don't plan to go to lunch like that."

Grinning broadly, Greg said, "Nope. Come here."

She walked over to him and he hugged her in his arms while whispering in her ear, "Just bend over the couch and we'll take care of this in a few minutes."

Shrieking with laughter, she pulled away. "We can't do that! I'll leave a snail trail!"

"I have a better idea. Sit down."

Greg sat on the couch and Beth knelt between his knees, one hand gently encircling his shaft. He gasped when she took him into her mouth, amazed that she could make him feel so good so fast. Her wet hair clung to her as she began working her head up and down while simultaneously milking his pre-cum into her mouth. She moaned around the hot flesh in her mouth and felt the moisture growing between her thighs. She would definitely love to feel him there but that would have to wait.

Within minutes, he growled deep in his chest and jerked his hips as he exploded. She swallowed every drop as he pulsed and flooded her mouth with his hot thick seed.

He lay there panting as she rose and winked. "Now, wasn't that much neater?"

She dried her hair and dabbed the wetness from between her legs while he regained his composure.

Walking hand-in-hand toward the restaurant, Greg said quietly, "Thank you, Baby."

"It was my pleasure," she replied with a smile. "I didn't want that French tart seeing you like that."