0 comments/ 19720 views/ 16 favorites Rescuing Amy Ch. 01 By: EscargotDriver When Dave wired a phone in the bathroom he thought it was cool and convenient. I guess it was a good idea because none of this would have happened without it. Dave and Amy were my next-door neighbors of fifteen years. When they first moved in I always enjoyed watching her mow the grass wearing short shorts and a bikini top. Over the years we all got to know each other pretty well in the neighborhood. Many random, drunken parties left no-one without some embarrassing incident that the others would be happy to recount at length. Dave was a regular looking guy with a regular body, a reasonable sense of humor and enough sense to listen to his wife on matters of style. He was near-perfect, middle-class, husband material and I liked him. But naturally, Amy was much more interesting to me. She had the near-perfect-middle-class wife thing worked out years ago but topped it off with a mild-wild streak, a slightly dirty sense of humor, and occasional drunken party blowouts. She had shoulder-length blonde hair, a pretty middle-class face, and small breasts. Back in her mowing days, before their two kids came along, I lusted over her shapely legs, tight ass, and lovely bikini-clad torso, and small breasts never bothered me. Naturally, over the years, she gained weight. Her ass went from tight to "normal", her legs went from shapely to slightly plump but her torso remained taut and her tits remained small. Finally, at the time of this story, she seemed a little fat to me. Still hot, still pretty and far from gross, but a little fat, when unkindly compared to her younger days. Dave and Amy had a beautiful yard and house. They both worked hard in the yard and artistic Amy did an amazing job on the interior and Dave brought home enough bacon to feed all the assorted tradesmen that her projects required. Then Dave lost his job (or so another nosey neighbor had gleefully informed me). Over the next few weeks I saw Dave at home a lot more than usual, working on various projects. One spring day I chatted to him over the fence while he was surrounded by sawhorses and a pile of substantial-looking wooden beams. He told me he was finishing up a remodel of their bathroom and was installing the beams he'd acquired from a local farmer to complete the "country" theme that Amy was "demanding". He explained the difficulties he'd had attaching the heavy timbers to his ceiling but he'd worked out a combination of "skew nailing" and constructive adhesive that had solved the problem. Not really knowing his skill levels and abilities I simply nodded appreciatively and went about my life. Several weeks later I was working in the yard when I saw Amy in her's. When she waved I stopped the mower and walked up to her fence for a chat. I have no idea what we talked about but I have a clear recollection of the dress she was wearing. It was conservative in length, style, color and pattern yet the top was gathered tightly across her small tits. My cock, who had been bored with mowing, awoke and began to pay attention. He began an insistent chant: "Look down at her tits, check out her nipples, look down at her tits...". Mightily resisting his demands didn't lend itself to much stimulating conversation so I excused myself and finished the lawn while my cock sulked. I hit the shower as soon as I got inside. My bathroom window overlooks Dave and Amy's backyard and little else so I never close the blinds in daytime or at night. Today, as I began to shower, I saw Amy cross her lawn to her shed and then shortly return to her house. This ensured it was her turn to be the object of my showertime fantasies as I recalled the look of her little titties in that weird dress. I thought of following her to that shed, bending her over, lifting her dress, and groping her little titties from behind. Imagine my surprise, she isn't wearing panties! I was stroking my cock like crazy and my imaginary tip had just entered her fat imaginary little pussy when my phone rang. I too have a phone in my bathroom. I work most of the time at home and Murphy's Law dictates that the urgency and importance of phone calls is directly proportional to the inconvenience of the current bathroom activity. The spoken caller ID told me the number: this was work and it was important. Torn, still hard, from my Amy fantasy, I cursed and dripped my way to the phone. Forty minutes later I was seated at my desk in a robe and the crisis was over when my phone rang again. Thinking the crisis was back I answered quickly but it was Amy and she was crying. "Oh Thomas", she wailed, "I'm stuck and I need your help." She launched into a nonsensical tale between sobs and it took me some time to calm her down. I was grabbing my nearest clothes - a t-shirt and a pair of fleecy lounge pants: "I'm coming Amy, just calm down and tell me what you need." "I'm trapped in the bath..." wailing... "I'm stuck and I can't get out..." thirty seconds of sobbing... "the back door is open but..." "I'm coming. What is it Amy?" There was only sobbing on the line. I had struggled into my clothes and stepped into my slippers. Amy's voice switched from panic to urgent determination: "I can't believe I was so stupid! This is what happens to me! Thomas, you have to help me no matter what. Dave and the kids will be home in an hour and no matter what you think of me it will be better than them finding me like this. Come to my house, come up to the bathroom, and I'll fucking kill you if you say a fucking word!" I was speechless. Her words swam around my brain looking for some logical place to reside. My forgotten dick immediately jumped in my pants as he matched the words "Amy", "bath", and "secret" to whole perverted set of illogical scenarios. With the phone to my ear I ran to her yard gate, across the patio to her back door: "I'm at your back door." I told her. "Hurry" she said. "Back door Amy", said my cock. I strode through the house and up the stairs. I'd never been up here before and didn't know the layout but I could hear running water from the partly open door to my right. "I'm right here", I said. "Thomas, I'm so sorry!" she wailed into both my free ear and my phone ear. I ended the call and quickly but gingerly pushed open the door. It struck something solid and stopped at the halfway point. I stuck my head in the opening and I gasped at the sight before me. The entire beam construction had ripped from the ceiling. The four heavy timbers and the six crossbeams had remained attached to each other. The far left corner was the highest point where it had struck and damaged the sink. Nearer me, the toilet had taken the hit and a big beam at waist level was obstructing the door. But, on the right, the wreckage was at its lowest point and there lay Amy, face down in the tub, with a solid, 100lb beam lying along her naked back. The shower was still running. "Fucking hell, Amy, are you alright?" But she just began to sob loudly. I'm at my best in a crisis and a purposeful calm came over me. I pushed hard on the door and with effort I managed to squeeze my body into the room. I stepped over the fallen grid and made my way to her side. The heavy beam rested on the far end of the tub, pushing her head below the rim while the other end was actually in the tub, resting on her ass. I reached to stop the water and I'm sure I audibly gasped when I took in the large purple dildo attached to the wall by its suction cup. I was relieved to see that there was no blood in the water but, as it began to drain, it revealed yet another source of her shame: saved from its watery grave, a sleek silver vibrator began to dance and buzz on the enamel floor of the tub between her ankles. I grabbed the vibrator, twisted it off at its base and set it aside on the floor. I took the phone from her hand and hit "Off". I put my hand on her bare shoulder and tried to find something to say: "Oh my god, Amy. are you hurt?" Her wails had gone and her sobs were receding. Then that urgent, no-nonsense tone returned to her voice: "God, thank you Thomas, I'm so stupid... you've got to help me before Dave gets here... look, you know what I was fucking doing when that fucking stupid roof fell on top of me. It hit the shower curtain which stopped it from fucking killing me but, as that gave way, it pushed me down here and I can't fucking move! Thank god it knocked the stupid phone down beside the tub." Amy rarely swore in her near-perfect-wifey role but I didn't begrudge her a "fuck" or two in every sentence in this particular fucked-up circumstance. "Don't worry, don't struggle, we'll get you out of here." It was immediately obvious that, barring a chainsaw, the only quick solution was for me to raise the beam at the shower end enough for her to wriggle out of the tub. I stood up to find the best approach to this. I put my right foot into the tub and I felt that I could lift the beam on the side of my hip but I realized that my leg would be blocking the only space where she could crawl out. I stepped up onto the tub facing the shower wall with one foot on each side, astride the tub [and astride Amy - my cock added quietly to himself]. Now I could squat over the beam and lift it safely with my legs. "I'm going to lift this off your back and then you're going to have to wiggle down and out of the tub backward." "Okay, quickly!" I have strong legs and was in a good position to lift the heavy timber, still attached to the rest of the grid. I grunted, straightened and, with strength and adrenalin, lifted it easily from the tub floor to a height of about three feet. She groaned with relief as she finally found room to move. But she wasn't quite out of the woods yet. I was, facing north in a classic "bent over rowing" position above the tub while she faced south [naked - says my cock] with her head on the tub floor as she wiggled up onto her knees. With the crisis somewhat in hand it wasn't only my cock that stared as her pussy was displayed beneath me. She braced her feet at the end of the tub and began to push herself up using her hands. Just when things couldn't possibly get crazier they did. Amy backed up. She pushed with her hands and straightened her legs. Her pussy was hidden from my wide-eyed view as her ass backed up towards the shower wall. Amy got her hands on the tub's grab handles and was nearly in position to straighten up and escape her undignified trap. Unfortunately she was also back in the same position she had been when all this started and the big, happy, purple dildo that had been in the perfect position for pleasure was now perfectly placed to maximize her humiliation. "Oh, fuck!" she exclaimed when she made contact with him. She bucked against the beam I was holding and thrashed her ass frantically trying to escape his happy probing. "Careful Amy!" I gasped as she almost knocked me off my precarious perch. She froze for a second, caught her breath, and then wriggled more carefully, raising her right foot to her tiptoes until with an obscene plop the dildo flopped out between her legs. I stared. Un-fucking-believable-I'd-kill-my-mother-for-a-camera-right-now. With her pussy lips spread over a nine-inch purple dildo Amy wriggled from under the beam, her small [perfect - says cock] right tit grazing my arm and missing my mouth by a tongue length. She climbed out from the tub [naked and still dripping - cock] and stood panting in one of the spaces in her ruined bathroom. I tried to lower my heavy burden carefully but my back ached so I dropped it the last twelve inches back into the tub. The crash shook her out of her trance and she began to cry again. I grabbed a large white towel from the rail behind me and hugged it around her shoulders. She sagged in my arms and cried on my shoulder. Only the towel was between me and her plump little [naked, perfect] body. My arms were around her bare back and the smell of her clean wet hair filled my nostrils. I pulled in my stomach and pushed out my ass to stop my stiffening cock from doing to her front what the big purple guy had tried to do to her ass. All of this had taken some ten or fifteen minutes. "Dave!" she gasped, stepping back from me and grasping the towel. "I have to get out of here! He can't find me like this!" She turned to the door, her back and ass exposed to my view, and again I saw her pussy as she stepped over the obstacle course. I stood frozen till she reached the door. "Quickly, Thomas, let's go!" I came to my senses and started after her but then I stopped, pulled the dildo from the wall and picked up the vibrator from the floor. She pushed out through the half-open door (more easily than my "fat" comments might have suggested) and as soon as she was out of sight. I'm going to hell, I thought, and I brought the dildo to my nose as I followed her out. I squeezed through the door and out into the hallway: a purple dildo in one hand, a vibrator in the other, and a large tent in my thin pants. She stood in her bedroom facing me and still clutching the towel. I tried to avert my eyes from her bare ass in the mirror but when she saw what I was carrying she forgot the towel and grabbed them from my hands. She opened a drawer in her dresser, threw them inside and hastily arranged some clothes on top. I saw scrapes along her back and what looked like a line of bruises beginning to form. She turned to me: "Fuck, fuck, fuck, Thomas! I'm such an idiot, I'm so sorry, thank you, thank you!" "You're ok Amy, it's ok, take it easy." As I drank in her full frontal nudity I saw a long nasty scrape on the inside of her thigh. "You're scraped down there Amy and you have marks on your back." "What am I going to say? How am I going to tell him that it hit me on the back and didn't knock my brains out?" What will he say that you saw me naked?" I understood. All she could see was guilt for what she was doing when the beam fell. She was so scared of him finding her that way that she had preferred her utter humiliation with me. I knew what to say: "Amy, don't worry, listen. I was never here. You were in the shower when the beams started to fall. It landed on the shower curtain rail and half-blocked the door. You ran out of the room just before it crashed to the floor. You were scared and you hurt yourself a little pushing through the door but you're ok." "Ok, ok, thank you, thank you, I'm mortified, I'm so sorry!" Cute little, plump, thick legged, trimmed blonde-pussied, small titted, naked Amy threw her arms around me and kissed me somewhere between my cheek and my mouth. She hugged me tight and then turned me to the door. "Thank you Thomas! Oh my God, I owe you for this one! We'll have to talk..." "Shhh, forget it Amy, good luck with Dave and his wonderful ceiling." I said. "Mmm, she owes me", said my cock. I quickly went down stairs and let myself out the way I came in. "She leaves the door open while she fucks herself in the shower," observed my heartless cock. I closed her gate and went into my house. I leaned on the kitchen counter and tried to take in everything that just happened. Images of her spread pussy, the dildo, her bare tits, flashed through my head. I gave up any control I had managed to have over my cock and he sprung to full hardness. By now he was wet inside my pants. I pushed them to my ankles and fisted him right there in the kitchen till, a minute later, we spurted two long thick ropes of cum across the countertop. As he softened in my hand I grinned, then laughed aloud, and I said to him: "That was fucking insane!" "You're fucking telling me!" he seemed to reply. Rescuing Amy Ch. 02 Some bizarre things have happened in my life but the unbelievable incident with Amy and her bathroom ceiling was taking the crown and occupying my thoughts. I left for the city the next day as previously planned and I didn't get back to the house for more than two weeks. But there wasn't a day of those weeks when I didn't see her bare ass in the air, her small breast in front of my face, or the big dido nestled between her plump pussy lips. There wasn't a day I didn't jerk off at least once thinking of Amy in a vast range of positions and situations that weren't even close in eroticism to the situation and positions I'd witnessed in real life. I saw from Facebook that her life continued normally, at least outwardly, with the usual kid activities and even some happy smiling photos of her and Dave for their anniversary. It didn't seem like divorce was on the immediate cards - neither for shoddy ceiling construction, nor for getting trapped in a tub while fucking a suction dildo and being rescued by a neighbor. When I returned to the house she was on my mind even more. I saw her coming and going a few times on the first day and I jerked off twice more. On the morning of my second day back it was time to mow. I started on the front, then the side furthest from her property, and then her side. Despite the current state of the distractions in my head and in my cock, I finally attained the happy, zen-mowing state. I was on the very last strip, the one adjacent to her property line when I looked up and she was standing at her front door looking at me. She startled me for a second before I regained my composure. I waved a little hesitantly and she walked towards me. I stopped the cutter and killed the engine. "Hey Amy, how are you?" "Hi Thomas, I'm good." "Good," I repeated lamely. She seemed to take charge a little and asked me the usual questions: when I'd got in, how was the big city, how long was I staying. I stumbled through the usual answers like a tongue-tied teenager. The more obvious questions such as: "How's the ceiling?", "Still fucking the wall?", "Is there any chance I could see your pussy again?", all hung in the summer air like 500lb butterflies. Somehow they stayed locked in my mouth behind an army of my strongest filters. "Thomas, look... about..." "Amy..." "No, listen, I wanted to thank you and tell you I'm sorry and try to explain myself to you." "Amy... you don't have to..." "No, I want to. When you've finished the lawn I'd like you to come over for a few minutes, I'll make you lunch if you'd like." Lunch! Lunch seemed so lame under the circumstances. I wanted to continue to object: no it's not necessary, no, I'm sure you're busy, you don't have to. But a realisation came over me: this was what she needed. Hell, maybe it's what I needed. "It's sure as fuck what I needed," said my cock. "Sure Amy. I'm actually done but I need to blow the cuttings and jump in the shower. Twenty minutes?" "Take your time, make it thirty, and I'll make something nice for lunch." I cut the remainder of the last strip, dumped the mower in the garage, and cleared the clippings from the driveway and sidewalk in half the usual time. I ran inside and threw my grassy work clothes down the basement stairs, underwear, socks and all. I literally jumped in the shower and quickly but thoroughly washed my hair and body and finally I shaved closely and carefully. My hair is short and dries quickly. The rest of me was buffed dry with a rough towel before I even felt its bite. I cleaned my teeth, apres raze-ed my face, and brushed my hair into shape. In the bedroom I grabbed my big city jeans (as opposed to the regular crap I pull on in the country), I pulled on a newish, well-fitting T-shirt, and opted for dockers without socks for my feet. In the mirror this looked fine, season appropriate, and just about as good as it gets these days. I had rushed so much that I was actually ten minutes early. Now I didn't know what to do with myself. Should I be two minutes early? Boringly on time? Forget being late on purpose that wasn't an available option. A gift! Of course! One of the female-side lessons I'd learned on the road from boyhood to middle age was the importance of gifts. Chocolate! It's always my go-to gift choice and there was a bunch of great British chocolate, not yet dragged out and devoured, languishing in my refrigerator. I opened the door and then questioned myself. Chocolate was a little weird in the circumstances. Too personal. Yes, wine, I said aloud when I saw the a bottle of nice chardonnay chilling on the shelf. I knew I had some wine wrapper bags in one of the kitchen drawers but, no, too fancy. I grabbed a used shopping bag instead. Would she think the wine was weird too? I'd tell her it was for later. Five more minutes! Gahhhh! Without consciously deciding, I got down my pipe and grabbed a baggie from the freezer. I packed the bowl on autopilot, fired it up, and emptied it in two long hits. I considered another but I wanted to be chilled a little, not a blithering idiot. Damn, now I smell of weed. Back to the bathroom, wash hands and face, rinse with mouthwash, and back down the stairs. I grabbed my bottle and headed for Amy's house. Front or back? I had no idea. I'd never visited her alone on a weekday. I felt weird opening her yard gate and heading for the back door but it seemed preferable to standing on her front step in full view of the street with an obvious bottle in the middle of the day while her husband was out. At least I assumed he was out. Dave's car had been there on the night I arrived but I'd seen him drive off the next morning, I hadn't seen him come back, and it wasn't there now. I walked to the kitchen door and she was right there working on lunch. She looked up and saw me and motioned me inside with the chopping knife in her hand. "Hi Amy, be careful with that thing!" "Good timing Thomas, we're almost ready," she laughed. "Here, this is for later," I said as I'd rehearsed. She took it from me and removed the obvious bottle from the bag by its neck. When she looked at the label she laughed again: "Forget later," she said as she opened the refrigerator and pointed to a bottle of chardonnay on the door, "I need a drink at lunchtime today and mine is half-warm and half the price of yours!" She handed me the bottle, a corkscrew and two elegant glasses while she put the finishing touches on lunch. She'd made a near-perfect-middle-class-wife salad of arugula, grilled chicken, and a homemade (she told me with near-perfect-wife pride) raspberry vinaigrette dressing. There was a basket of magically-warmed bread rolls and oil and vinegar on the table for dipping. We were eating on tall chairs on either side of a granite-topped breakfast bar. We settled into lunch and some inconsequential chit-chat. The most obvious sign of our nervousness was our frequent visits to the wine glass. Less than halfway through the salad I had to refill both our glasses. She looked up at me and said: "You know I got my bathroom fixed?" "Cool," was all I could say about the 300lb purple gorilla in the room. "The sink was chipped and the bath was scratched but I've filled them in with enamel paint and you wouldn't notice. The toilet seat was cracked but the ceiling is filled and painted... and no more fucking beams!" I couldn't help but grin. "Thomas, I'm so sorry about that crazy day." Another of my barely acquired life skills kicked in and I shut my mouth tightly and let her continue at her own speed: "I want to explain it to you. You were awesome, you're always awesome... Did you know Dave lost his job?" I wasn't expecting that part and I just nodded. "I didn't run around telling everyone but I guess everyone knows by now. They fired him in April and things have been hard. It's been hard on him. It's understandable. But he's... he's really struggling in some ways... it's not... quite the same since then." She looked up at me and paused. I said nothing. In the crazy context of this conversation it was clear what she was saying. "I do my best. I still bring in some money with my own work. I try to make everything easy for him. I try to keep up his spirits. I'd never, ever, say anything to him about... but I started to get a little crazy without it. I spoke to Denise, and you what she's like, and she give me a special present for my birthday. Two special presents if you know what I mean. A silver one and..." I nodded. I tried to keep my face from showing the butterflies that had instantly invaded my stomach. My cock's muffled voice came through my jeans: "She's telling you about her fucking sex toys, dude!" She took drained her wine glass and refilled it herself. My second was untouched but I reached for it now. "I got a little crazy with them," she continued, "and when no-one was home and the moment was right... well..." She paused again and took a generous sip, "well, you know... and what happened... you saw all my deepest secrets... and there's worse." I sure I didn't hide the "Worse?" from my eyes. "Worse?" yelled my cock, "worse?" She finished glass two and I refilled us both: "Ever since that crazy day, I've been worse. I'm crazy. I was crazy enough that day. Do you know that I was shaking that fucking wall when the fucking ceiling fell down?" And now I'm worse than ever. The other day I was... I was... I did something more... I never did it before..." I'm sure my mouth was open. My cock started to stand up to hear better... "It's way too much information but, Thomas, I squirted! I've squirted once in my life with an old boyfriend when I was nineteen... Thomas, I'm a crazy woman! I'm so sorry. I'm so embarrassed. I'm mortified. The old Amy would have hidden from you for the rest of her life but the crazy Amy wanted to just thank you, to say sorry, to try to explain herself." She was blushing hard now but she didn't lower her eyes, she met my stare. I refilled the glasses and I tried to concentrate on finishing the salad. I knew I had to speak. "Amy, I'm so sorry about Dave's job," I said, rather than say I was sorry he wasn't fucking her properly: "Please don't be embarrassed. It was a fucking crazy situation but I'm so happy no-one got hurt - in any way - and no-one ever needs to know anything about it." "I know, I know," she said, "it's just so... so perverted... you'll always know about it... you'll never think of me the same." "Amy, I don't know how to say this..." I hesitated knowing exactly what I thought about it but scrambling to find an appropriate filter, "um, I don't think any less of you in any way. I think women are amazing and everything they do is beautiful..." (thank god for just the right amount of weed) "and you're beautiful and anything you do with your body sexually is beautiful..." She looked at me curiously and I paused, trying to continue without the word beautiful in every sentence... I changed tack... "I've seen toys before Amy, there's toys in my house, in my apartment, it's normal..." "Julia?" she asked. "Whatever," I said reflexively, sounding like I wouldn't say but secretly meaning "not only" - but that's another story... "Thomas!" she exclaimed with a smile, "I'm telling you I'm crazy and now you have me imagining Julia in the shower..." she paused, "I don't mean..." "Better imagining Julia in the shower than me," I blurted. "I don't mean..." We both laughed. The weed and the wine had me in a great place but Amy was a full glass ahead of me and she was buzzed. She stood up with a barely perceptible wobble and got her own bottle from the fridge. Amy and I had shared secrets now so I just reached for the bottle, opened it for her and poured her two thirds of a glass. She drank half of it and looked me in the eye: "I'm sorry, I can't believe I'm telling you this stuff, but you've seen me at my worst and I feel the need to tell you I'm not crazy... that I'm just a little crazy at the moment..." I reached for her hand for a second and then took it away: "You're not crazy Amy, you're beautiful, you're awesome, you're completely normal." "Thomas, this isn't normal. You have no idea. If you were Dave and we were having this conversation I'd be jumping his bones right now..." her smile saddened and she lifted her hands off her knees where they'd settled unnoticed by either of us. She stopped, paused, and then the wine pushed her onward: "Or I'd have my hands in my panties..." She gasped and covered her mouth looking more shocked than me at what she'd just said. The new Amy was rubbing off on me ["We wish!" leered my cock]. If she could say these things then I couldn't hold back either. "Go for it," I said. "What?" "Go ahead, do it." Her eyes opened wide. She just stared at me. Her near-perfect-wife brain spun worthlessly for a moment but somehow her hands were back on her legs again. She gasped and leaned forward. "Don't think I wouldn't! I shouldn't. I can't." I looked her in the eyes: "Do it," I said softly. She looked right back and then brought her left hand back to the tabletop. I noticed it because she had to reach across for her glass. She took a sip, closed her eyes, and took another. Her face seemed to relax and her upper body froze in place. I could easily imagine what she was doing out of sight. In less than a minute she stiffened, a grin flashed across her face and then softened. "Holy fuck!" my cock said as he tried valiantly to look over the countertop, "she just fucking got off in front of you dude!" Her eyes flashed open and she blushed redder than ever. "Jesus, Thomas, I'm going crazy. What will we do with me?" "I'll do nothing to you Amy," I said, stressing the word change, "you do anything you want Amy, do anything that feels good, but you don't need any complications... you need something healthy and... and pure." She looked at me with a new-found respect. "Thank you, I'm so sorry! But what about you? What do you do? It's been a while since Julia was here." "Don't worry about me Amy, I don't need anything. I think you're amazing, you're incredible, I'm amazed that you... that you are... sharing this." I paused before taking a weed-wine leap forward, "Listen, I have a silly idea... it's silly..." "Tell me! Do it!" She had me on that. I leaped: "You've been a little tiny bit crazy and then you had a crazy situation. You couldn't talk to anyone about it. It's actually kinda traumatic..." I went on hesitantly, "There's something they do for people with trauma. They... re-enact the event in a safe way. They let the person work through it." I stopped. I think I just told her that I wanted to see her naked in the bath again. I think she thought the same but she said: "What do you mean? Re-enact?" This was out of control. In for a penny, in for a pound: "Let's re-enact the whole bathroom thing without all the pain and suffering. It will... help us work though a few things... I know it's a crazy idea for a crazy situation but, if you trust me, I think it will help you in a whole lot of different ways." She looked at me more curiously that ever: "I trust you," she said, I'll do it." Then she looked at the clock: "Tomorrow, can we do it tomorrow? I will do it but the kids will be home in an hour and I have to clean up and sober up. I'm free from ten tomorrow..." "That's fine, Amy, fine. Tomorrow is perfect." I took my cue and stood up to leave. "Lunch was awesome Amy, I appreciate it," I said rather ridiculously since she, my cock, and I all knew I meant: "I can't believe you just masturbated in front of me Amy!" She stood up too. She seemed halfway back to sober now. She hugged me and held me tight. "Thank you Thomas, thank you, I'm sorry!" I just squeezed her tighter for a second trying to say: "You're welcome and stop being sorry." "Here", she said, "take this home with you." And she suddenly held her right middle fingers under my nose. Stunned, I sniffed them hard and her scent and pheromones hit my brain like a sledge hammer. My cock went from half power to full steam in a heartbeat. Taking advantage of my shock, she pulled them from my nose to my lips and I instantly opened my mouth to taste her. My cock almost burst. She retrieved her deviant digits and hugged me again then, stepped back, and smiled at me. I'd bet my mouth was still hanging open and no speech was possible but I forced my feet to walk me to and through the door. "Send me an email with times... and... instructions or whatever," she called after me. When I got home I rushed up stairs, tore off my clothes and collapsed on my bed. My cock was soaked in precum and it demands for my attention were not possible to refuse. I tried to replay everything but in a minute I was spurting cum all over my tummy and chest. "Fucking hell," I said as he softened in my hand. "Dude!" he gasped. Rescuing Amy Ch. 03 After a couple of hours back at home, the smell and taste of Amy's fingers lingered now only in my imagination. But the thoughts of the day filled my head, I really wanted to masturbate again, but I told myself, my always-optimistic self, to save it for tomorrow, just in case. I spent a long time writing her a very short email: "Hi Amy, thank you for everything. Are you sure about tomorrow? Do you trust me?" I pretended to work but I was just trying to distract myself and very little got done. Just after five I got her reply: "Thank you Thomas. I'm sure. I trust you completely. I did what you told me at the table and I'll do anything you tell me tomorrow. xxx, Crazy Amy" I don't remember what else I did that evening. I know I spent all my brain power on a plan. My crazy, Post Traumatic Let's See You Naked Again Re-Enactment plan. Some time after midnight I sent her another email: "Amy, I'll come over at 10:30, back door. Wear only a bathrobe. Do what I tell you. xxx Crazier Thomas." After struggling for sleep I finally woke to find her reply: "Okay. Craziest Amy." I washed and dressed in a trance. I had decided the night before that I would wear the same lounge pants and T-shirt that I'd thrown on before rushing to her house that crazy day. I rolled a slim joint, put it in my cigarette packet, and put them in my pocket with a lighter. I rushed through the morning emails and told the team I had an appointment and would be back online later. At ten thirty exactly I came to her door and she was there to let me in. She was barefoot and was wearing a regular pink bathrobe. She looked quizzically at my pants and T-shirt. I don't think she even remembered or cared what I'd worn that day but perhaps subconsciously she'd relate them to the incident. I was amazed this was going to plan so far. "Come out here," I said, stepping back. She hesitated. Her yard was secluded but not hidden. She knew she was naked under the robe. "Denise isn't home." I reassured her as she stepped slowly through the doorway. I sat at her patio table and indicated the tall mesh chair opposite me. She sat, seemingly determined to do whatever I said - she trusted me completely. With exaggerated actions I took the cigarettes and lighter from my pocket and laid them on the glass table top. I shook out a Marlboro and lit it. I knew she had never been a smoker and I knew she didn't have that ex-smoker fear and hatred. For some unknown reason people tell me that I make cigarettes look good. The ex-smokers can't stand me. I never try to smoke in any particular way to justify or enhance this claim but today, I confess, I laid it on thick. As I exhaled my second or third drag into the air downwind from her, I reached for the packet again. I shook out the joint and handed it to her. Her eyes widened but she took it from me. I held out my lighter and she put it between her lips and awaited her fate. She took a tentative drag and managed not to splutter or cough. Although she'd never smoked tobacco, I knew from experience that she could handle an occasional joint. I reached for it, took a small tote, and handed it back. This time I left her with it, sat back, and dragged slowly on my cigarette. She took another hit, deeper this time, and looked in my eyes with determination if not a little defiance. Hah! I thought, let's see if your as determined as you think! Then I said in a steady voice: "Do it now Amy." "Do what?" "Do. It. Here." The recognition of what I meant flashed through her eyes (lovely light blue eyes by the way). She paused for a second and then managed to turn the tables on me a little: she shifted the joint to her left hand, brought it to her lips, and dropped her right hand under the table. The patterned glass tabletop acted like a pixelated porno movie but in real life it was ten times more erotic than a crystal clear view of her shame. In the blurred image I saw her her hand drop to her robe, ease it open, and dip inside. Neither of us breathed for a long moment. The joint and the cigarette had burned through their useful material so I flipped mine casually on her spotless patio. She tossed the roach in the same direction. I turned to her again: "Give me the belt." and, God bless her, she reached below the table with both hands, pulled the matching pink belt from her robe, and handed it to me. "Let's go upstairs." Crazy Amy didn't hesitate to step off of the chair, her robe gapped open immediately, and I glimpsed a flash of her small fat titty, her smooth tummy, and a long flash of plump inner thigh. She lead me inside and walked straight up the stairs. At the top I said: "Get your toys." Now on a roll she didn't hesitate. With her robe opening and closing randomly she picked up the wide stool from her dressing table and took it to the wardrobe. Standing on the chair she reached high in the back of the upper section. Her robe rose tantalizingly on her legs until she found the small lacquered box of her toys and stepped down from the chair. She opened the box and held it to me. Inside, in ziploc bags, were the big purple dildo, the small silver vibrator, a bottle of lube, and a fresh set of four AA batteries. She's crazy and she's prepared I thought to myself. I took the whole box from her and I nodded towards the bathroom. I set down the toy box on the good-as-new sink top and turned to face her. For a second she looked so vulnerable so I stepped up and hugged her tightly. I didn't want her to feel my hard cock against her tummy, or worse, so I stepped back and simply held the lapels of the robe for a second while I looked into her eyes for consent but they only showed excitement, she'd given up making decisions a long time ago today. I simply eased the robe from her shoulders, turned and hung it from the hook on the newly repainted door. When I turned back to her I looked her slowly up and down. She stood before me in her naked glory. I handed her the dildo: "Amy, get in the shower, close the curtain, and do what you do." She did as I said. Behind the curtain the water started up. She moved around for a moment and then I heard a loud suction cup sound. Soon I heard a gasp followed by a soft moan. All I could see was the outline of her hand against the shower curtain as she grabbed the bath rim through a handful of liner but a slow steady splash rhythm came from the shower. I took the bottle of lube from the box. I pushed back the edge of the curtain and saw a glorious sight. Head down, hands on the tub, Amy was pushing her ass back against the wall and the big purple dildo buried deep in her pussy. Then she'd pull back until only the fat tip was between her lips. She seemed aware I was looking now but she never broke stride. She was moaning softly. I snapped open the top of the lube to give her a clue what was coming and for several "out" stokes I drizzled the big dildo shaft with lube. She freaked out to another level and seemed to double her speed: "Fuck! Mmmmm. Ah, fuck me! Uhhhh, uhhh, uhhhh!" I watched in amazement but after a full minute of this it was time: "Amy, the ceiling is falling in!" I think she barely heard me. She was so close to the edge of reason. I swept the curtain back to the corner. She eased up her hand on the rim to let it back but she held her position, panting and unsure of what was next. I'd already noticed that her shower was actually a hand-held version but with a wall bracket for normal use. I recognized the adjustable head as a Waterpik model, exactly the same one I had in the city apartment. I removed it from the bracket with my left hand and I bent my right at the elbow and laid my forearm (my improvised beam) along her spine. When I began to apply downward pressure on her back she quickly realized what I was doing. She bent her arms and began to slowly lower her head and torso into the tub. The slick dildo eased out of her pussy until it obscenely bobbed free. I continued to press her down into the tub, all the time playing the shower gently over her back, ass, and legs. Finally she was laying face down in on the tub floor. My elbow was between her shoulder blades, my forearm pressed along her spine and my hand rested lightly on her ass. I twisted the familiar shower head into the powerful, single stream, "massage" function (I have several friends who love my shower head. They joke it has three levels: "gentle", "medium", and "who needs a man"). Amy's legs were splayed apart like they had been by the ceiling beam so, starting at her ankles and moving up, I aimed the strong jet between them. She squirmed them further apart as the spray headed higher. When it reached her inner thighs she spread them as far as she could trying to escape from the jet. She realized her mistake as the jet hit her clitoris from behind. She thrashed so hard I really did have to hold her down with my arm. I gave her no more than thirty seconds of this torment. I knew it must be crazy intense. But I couldn't resist going a step further. I spread her firm cheeks with my finger and thumb and aimed the water jet right into her sweet little butt hole. She screeched and thrashed, and wriggled as far up the tub as she could go. I flicked the shower head to a gentler steam. "Amy, you're ok, I'm going to lift up the end of the beam and free you," I said. "You can back out from under it." I got up from my knees and restrained her with only my hand. As I lessened the pressures, sure enough, she wedged her feet and began to repeat a somewhat easier version of her original escape. Then I had an idea and I quickly stepped onto the tub rim like I had the first time and guided her up with a light hand at the top of her buttocks. This time, however, there was no heavy beam to struggle with or to block my view. I still had the shower in my hand and I played it continuously over her ass, legs, and pussy. With her hands on the tub she straightened her legs and backed towards the wall. If I leaned forward a fraction I'd be able to fuck her asscrack like a upside down tit-job. As she straighten up beneath me she once again encountered the perfectly placed dildo. She'd forgotten all about it again and she gasped but this time she welcomed him between her lips and deep into her pussy. I swung my leg back over her and jumped down to the floor. She looked amazing from this angle. Her curvy ass high in the air, her little titties swinging free below her, and her blonde hair curtaining her pretty face. I dipped the shower beneath her and flicked her nipples with the stream for a moment. Then I slid it beneath her and jetted her clit while she fucked her wall dildo. In seconds she froze in place, clamped her legs together, and shrieked unintelligible gibberish. When she came down from her intense orgasm, she eased her purple friend out of her pussy and sank to her knees. I turned off the shower and got a white fluffy towel from the rail. I helped her to her feet and out of the tub while I wrapped her in the big towel. She clung to me, still panting as if she had run a marathon, and I knew that this time there was no missing my rock hard cock bent against her belly. Finally she stepped back: "Thomas, oh my fucking God Thomas, that was fucking unbelievable. That was fucking crazy!" Then she got that danegerous pensive look, "Listen, I understand the 'rules'. This is healthy and, what did you call it, pure. That was pure all right! But, listen come with me." She held the towel to her chest with one hand and took my hand with the other and led me to her bedroom. "Don't say a thing Thomas. First of all you're soaking!" I realised she was right. My T-shirt was soaked on the left side and my pants were soaked in the legs. She led me to beside her bed and turned me to her. "Take off your wet shirt," she said and I did. "Take this towel." She took it from her body and handed it to me. I held it to my chest like she had. She dropped to her knees and pulled my pants and underwear to my ankles. Beneath the towel my cock sprung free. "Lay back on the bed," she said and I did. She took the towel from my hands and began to dry my chest with it. When she reached higher to dry my neck and shoulders her crotch made contact with my granite-hard cock. Leaving the towel on my chest she ran her hands downwards, drying my sides, my pelvis, and my legs. She dropped to her knees between my legs and ran her hands up my thighs and onto to my chest. Now her fat little titties were rubbing on my cock shaft. She climbed right onto me. Her titties jiggled above my face and her pussy slid right up and down my shaft through the towel. I wanted to lick and suck on her hard nipple like a hungry newborn. My hips pushed my cock up hard against her groin. She raised and up her nipples briefly grazed my lips. She pushed her pussy down hard on me and stuck her tongue right into my mouth as she dry humped my cock. I was on the edge when she broke the lip lock and started to slide back down my body bunching the towel around my waist. She bit my nipple on the way past and sat back between my legs. She smoothed out the towel until a single layer of soft fabric covered my throbbing cock. When she released the tension he instantly made a tent that a troop of boy scouts could inhabit for a week. While I devoured my view of this near-perfect-wifey she gently ran the back of her fingernail along his length making both him and me twitch and squirm. She bunched the towel between my legs and gently cupped my balls with her left hand, then she pressed my rampant dick against my stomach with her right palm. Slowly she began to stroke me through the towel. Its soft fabric now felt like sandpaper against my over-sensitized cock head. All the while she handled my big balls and pressed against the space beneath them with her thumb. She leaned forward so her chin was at the base of my cock and she looked up at me with her big blue eyes. She turned her head to the side and ran her mouth along my cock from base to tip and back again. On the next pass she took my head into her mouth through the towel. Never had anyone made me this close to orgazm without actual skin to skin contact. Seeming to sense this she sat back, took my towel encased cock between her two hands, and stroked me quickly. In seconds I was thrusting up my hips, my back arched, a primeval groan came from deep within me: "Do it Thomas!" she said, and I pumped my cum into her towel. She kept a light pressure on my cock while my seizures subsided. I sank back into her soft marital bed. She proceeded to clean up my grand mess with a dry portion of the despoiled family towel. When she was satisfied with the clean up she climbed from the bed and left the room, presumably to deposit the evidence at the very bottom of the laundry hamper. I remained where I lay and my eyes stayed closed. Despite the incredible intimacy we'd achieved in a very short time, I wasn't quite sure what to do or say next. I would have dearly loved to climb beneath the covers and fall asleep spooning her naked body. But that surely wasn't the deal with this "relationship". "Click!" came the artificial shutter sound of a smart phone. My eyes flew open and I sat up. Amy grinned and walked around the bed taking several more photos of my prone and spent naked body. "I need a little memento of this for when you're not around, Thomas." she said. "Next time I want one of your cock before he's done with me, hmm, maybe a movie!" The next time comment brought me from my daze and I got up off the bed. Amy gathered up my clothes and handed them to me along with a happy but neighborly peck on my lips. She was smiling like the crazy woman she had become. "I'm sorry Thomas but we don't have all day now. I think your therapy idea worked great. I don't think I'll die of embarrassment when I think about the day you rescued me anymore. I'll think of today and let myself get wet." For a moment I thought this sounded like the end of something but she continued: "Thank you so much, you're amazing. You made Crazy Amy a little saner for a while and yet we didn't really do anything that 'broke the rules'. I don't only feel amazing, I still feel kinda 'pure'." I just grinned and dressed and admired her interpretation of rules and purity. I had nothing to say. Amy retrieved her robe and we went downstairs. At the back door she hugged me tightly. For once I didn't have a raging boner to hold back from her embrace. "Thank you", I said. How did I go from the seasoned philanderer to the shy teen while she had risen from shy housewife to confident goddess? "Thomas, you've given me an awesome gift. I don't know how to describe how I feel. Give me some time to enjoy my 'normal' life again and I promise you we'll think of ways to have a lot more fun together." She hugged me tighter and kissed me full on the lips. I took my cue and left her house. Crossing our yards in my loose pants and t-shirt seemed a lot more scary when my cock wasn't there to back me up but I had the presence of mind to pick up the cigarette butt and joint roach on my way. I glanced towards Denise's house and, there she was, standing in her yard. She was staring right at me and she raised her hand and waved. At this distance I could see that she was smiling but I couldn't tell if it was neighborly or knowing. I waved back shyly and bolted into my house. "Fuck me!" I said to my cock. "ZZZzzZZzzz," he replied. Rescuing Amy Ch. 04 With work and travel I didn't see Amy for several weeks. Now that we'd actively made each other cum it seemed, somehow, there was less urgency to our activities. I didn't know how her relationship with her husband was progressing and I had my usual fish to fry (in varying degrees of what may have satisfied Mr. Plato). I'd been back to the country once or twice but they had been flying visits and I'd spent most of the Summer sweltering in the city for one reason or another. Julia, the real love of my life had been gone for over six months but Skype and chat kept us tightly bonded and secure for the future. I'm eternally grateful for an amazing part-time lover as understanding and un-jealous as Julia. One day in September an email from Amy arrived along with the first hints of Fall. The subject was simply: "Shopping". There was no text just a photo attachment. My heart skipped and my cock pricked up his ears at the mention of her name. The photo was a "selfie" taken in her bedroom. In the foreground was Amy's smiling face and a cute, black lacy bra that uplifted her cute little titties and gave them a hint of cleavage. In the background was her full length mirror that showed her hot, plump, ass bisected beautiful by a matching thong. It was a beautiful sight and my cock and I spent some quality time together enjoying it in the middle of a boring workday. I have no idea what steps she took to hide her emails from Dave. Perhaps he just wasn't the snooping type. She was a borderline geek from her graphic work so perhaps she knew exactly what she was doing. Nevertheless, I downloaded her photo, deleted the email, and replied on a new thread. "Hi Amy, thanks for the email! Hope everything is well with you and hope to see you all again soon." I hoped the exclamation mark, the "all" and the "again" made my point while meaning nothing to anyone else. The next day she replied: "Hi Thomas, I'm glad you liked it. Denise is having a party next Saturday. If you're in town I really hope you will come :)" Suddenly my cock and my weekend plans hardened. "She can't spell 'cum'," said my cock. "Amy, sounds great, I'll be there! Is there any kind of shopping I should bring?" I knew the "shopping" reference would carry over from her initial email and, sure enough, she replied a few minutes later: "Great! No, Denise and me have all the shopping we need. Maybe bring some of your famous brownies? Can't wait to see you, neighbor xxx" That was a little strange. If shopping was a code word then why was Denise involved? Did Denise's shopping mean food while Amy's meant something else? Denise was the one that bought Amy the sex toys that had started all this. And she had seen me leave Amy's house after our last encounter... hmm... Denise had lived across the street from Amy since before either of us had moved in. She was an interesting 40-ish women who was quite the opposite of Amy. A brunette, with a larger but well-maintained, made-for-comfort body, complete with big inviting breasts. Her face was freckled and pleasant as opposed to Amy's more classic and pretty visage. She had several children ranging from early teens to married-with-children and I had always gotten along very well with her and her family. At neighborhood get togethers I paid my dues quickly with the husbands and inevitable gravitated to the ladies circle where the conversation typically had a naughty overtone in direct proportion to the amount of alcohol (and Thomas-pushed weed) consumed. Sober, drunk, or stoned, Denise was never shy around risque topics. At one point in time she was being encouraged (nagged) to quit cigarettes by her husband and she would sometimes sneak off with me to smoke one when he wasn't paying attention. It's one of my personality flaws to enjoy anything that a women will do with me in secret. Throughout the week the renewed contact with Amy brought her back into my masturbatory fantasies. I didn't speculate on what the weekend would bring with her in real life but, with my cock frequently in my hand, I fucked her in fifty different positions, from bent over the bench in her front yard to bound and gagged in my basement. I arrived at the country home late on Friday night and went to bed immediately. I awoke early and by noon I had finally completed a large batch of special brownies for the party. This hadn't gone very smoothly and I had ended up with a stronger mix than intended. The day passed slowly with chores and laundry. These parties never have a defined start time since most of the neighbors have children and random activities. We generally show up somewhere between 7:00 and 8:00 and continue till the last man or woman standing. Showers, shaved, and dressed I crossed the street around 7:30 with a bottle of vodka, a nice chilled wine, and a tray of brownies wrapped in foil. This isn't our first rodeo and, after the hugs and kisses and handshakes, Denise relieved me of my offerings. She put the vodka on the shelf, the wine in the refrigerator, and the tray on the highest shelf in a cupboard. We were not stupid enough to leave a tempting tray of special brownie where curious children might decide to sample them. She made me a large vodka-orange juice from an already open bottle and busied herself with food preparation. I took a long sip and a good look at her. She was wearing a nice, black, knee-length dress that was kind to her body and generous to her big breasts. I saw hints of a substantial bra that held those girls in check and delivered an impressive cleavage. Her firm ass filled out the dress amply and, if there had been an obvious pantie line, I'm sure I would have noticed. We chatted inconsequentially for a few minutes while I quickly drained my dutch courage, helped myself to a refill, and told her I'd get out of her way for a while. In the large living room I mingled with the early guest. I knew about half of them and was introduced to the others. As a solo guy with a strange lifestyle I often become the focus of conversation in a group of more conventional all-Americans. I try to be self-deprecating as much as possible but I secretly enjoy this. Over the years I have found (or imagined) that only the more confident males warm to my outsider status whereas the ladies often engage me with a little gleam of excitement in their resigned-to-convention, alcohol enbravened eyes. More people began to arrive and more greetings and introductions ensued. Around 8:00 PM, I heard Amy and Dave arrive in the other room. I hadn't spoken to them together since her bathroom rescue (and our subsequent trips along her new-found path of sexuality). I remained in a corner of the living room while my cock berated me, suggesting crudely that I immediately go fuck her against the hallway wall while Dave watched. I declined. Dave entered the room alone, and made his rounds of friends and neighbors. He seemed genuinely pleased when he spotted me and shook my hand. If good old Dave had found my cum in his laundry or my cock in his wife's deepest thoughts, he was hiding it well. Denise entered the room and came directly to me: "Thomas, can I bother you a moment?" She led me to the kitchen and there, looking ravishing, was Amy. They both grinned at me and their eyes sparkled with mischief. Just what does Denise know, I wondered. Amy was also wearing a little black dress but tighter and shorter than Denise's. Hers had a high neckline that displayed her small chestley treasures more discretely. She wore nice high heels that enhanced her shapely legs and added several inches to her height. "Brownie time, Thomas," said Denise, "But not here, too many nosey people! Amy and I had ours in the upstairs bathroom. Go up there right now and find what left you inside the towel on the top of the laundry hamper." "Uhh, okay." I turned to leave. Amy touched my arm and added: "Put the wrappers in your pocket so nobody finds them." All that made sense, right? The girls were being sensible and practical and the shared mischief was just about my special brownies. I headed up the stairs. I waved a "Hi" into the bedroom where a gaggle of teenagers were too busy with video games to care. I entered the bathroom and locked the door. In the corner stood a family-sized laundry hamper, the woven rope kind that Ali Baba would have liked. I pulled up the lid and, sure enough, there was a nondescript towel on the top of the half-full basket. I lifted the edge of the towel and there was a black object inside which I retrieved. It had a solid center but it was wrapped in fabric. I brought it out into the light and began to open it on the sink countertop. I couldn't believe my eyes! Panties! Panties, it transpired, in plural. Two of my brownies lay unprotected in the center of two pairs of panties, both black, one plainish bikini style and one a lacy thong. They were right in the crotch of the plainer pair and the thong (which I now recognized the thong from Amy's "shopping" photo) was wrapped around both. Fuck me! I tipped out and ignored the brownies and examined the panties. I held them in turn to my nose. The crotch of the thong smelled delicious but mild. The plainer pair smelled considerably stronger but delicious too. I swore that they both felt warm, as if they had just been worn, but it wasn't enough to be sure. They certainly smelled tantalizingly fresh. Now a kink is something sexual that people enjoy in moderation while a fetish is the same thing taken to extremes. Sniffing panties is something I genuinely enjoy either when the opportunity arises - either blatantly in front of the owner or discreetly during my turns at laundry duty. I don't make a habit of raiding peoples hampers but my best female friends have had enough sleepovers with me to assume that panties thrown into my hamper will eventually be returned, cleaned and thoroughly sniffed. But I wasn't just enjoying a simple kink here. This was a message or a statement and my head swam with the implications. Here were Amy's panties - that made perfect sense - but Denise's too? I could certainly distinguish between the two scents. I previously had Amy's pussy-flavored finger in my mouth and the recollection matched the thong. With a flash of pervy inspiration I went back to the hamper and dug deeper. Near the bottom I found what I was looking for: a pair of similar bikini panties in blue. I brought each pair in turn to my nose to compare and contrast. The scent was identical yet the blue pair was less fresh, less strong, and stone cold. All these pussy juice pheromones had grabbed my little friend's attention. He was hard and uncomfortable in my tight jeans. I also needed a pee. Remembering what I was supposed to be there for, I began to munch the brownies. Two was a little much for a sensible person and this batch was extra strength - I hoped the girls hadn't overreached themselves. They were nice and moist ("The way we like our vaginas," mumbled my cock) and, with a handful of water from the faucet, I downed them both. By ignoring the panties for a moment, Mr Cock was pliable enough to let me take a long hard piss. When I'd put him away (he protested of course) and washed my hands I remembered what Amy had said about the "wrappers". Damn she's crazy! I felt like I'd been up here too long so I took one last "toke" from each of them, I put the blues back where I found them, and stuffed the other two pairs into my left pocket (my cigarettes were in the right) and, since panties are delightfully small, there was no noticeable bulge. I descended the stairs in a daze. Amy and Denise grinned at me but both their husbands were with them in the kitchen fixing drinks. "You found everything okay Thomas?" smirked Amy. "It's nice to share special things," giggled Denise. Her husband, Martin, looked up and grinned: "You're corrupting the girls with bad things again Thomas?" "I think they're corrupting me!" I joked, regaining some composure with the illicit thrill of the circumstances. I looked from Amy to Denise as I said it and the private thrill passed between us. The party unfolded from there nicely. Alcohol flowed, laughter filled the rooms, and soon I began to recognize the subtle euphoria of orally administered marijuana. I maneuvered myself to where Amy and Denise were standing with Martin and quietly asked them how they were feeling. They giggled: "I'm fucked up!" said Amy. "I'm horny," said Denise in her usual unfiltered way: "Someone might get lucky tonight if we kick you all out before I fall down." We all laughed including Martin. Amy said to him: "Lucky you, big boy! But maybe we should make sure of that for you? You don't mind if we sneak off upstairs with Thomas for one more little treat while everyone's busy?" He was easily sold on the promise of later debauchery: "Go for it!" he laughed. With spousal permission granted Denise grabbed my arm and we went into the empty kitchen. She held onto me tightly while Amy pulled a chair towards the cupboard. She climbed up carefully in her tall heels and reached for the child-proof top shelf. Her short black dress climbed enticingly up her thighs as she reached above her head. With the tray in hand she froze in place and turned to catch us enjoying the view. She lewdly wiggled her butt and Denise squeezed my arm. Amy passed down the tray to Denise who counted out three servings before passing it back. My cock and I attentively watched the thigh display as she replaced it. Denise giggled and landed a playful spank on my ass. Amy wrapped the brownies in a paper towel and led the way upstairs. My cock and I followed Amy's ass and Denise followed mine. She shhhh-ed us as we passed the engrossed teenager bedroom and we all went into the bathroom, quickly locking the door behind us. The girls giggled at each other and actually high-fived: "Did you like your present Thomas?" asked Denise. "Or the wrapper it came in?" said Amy, trying to muffle her giggles with her hand. "What the fuck! You two are crazy!" I said. "I'm sorry guys," said Denise "but I really need a pee." And she set the brownies down and turned to the toilet. Without hesitation she hiked up her dress and for a long second I drank in the sight. She had nice plump thighs encased in black stockings and a somewhat-trimmed, black bush surrounding smooth plump labia. With her sitting I now had a grandstand view down her ample cleavage and I could see the urgent stream of pee between her parted thighs. Amy retrieved a brownie from the counter: "Here's something to do while your mouth is hanging open," she said and stuffed it between my lips. She pushed me forward towards Denise. "Put your hands on her shoulders and get a better look; I want to show you something else." I was now disconcertingly close to my peeing neighbor but I did as I was told. In circumstances like these I've learned to not protest too much and to go with the flow (groan) no matter how incredible or insane. Amy fished in my tight pockets, one hand in each. She rejected the side with the cigarettes and found what she wanted in the other. She pulled out the panties and untangled them. She threw Denise's on the floor and held her little black thong over my nose and mouth. From beneath me Denise looked up and said: "Thomas, Amy tells me everything. I heard about everything that happened with you two. I'm impressed with the 'rules' you guys made and that you've kept them so far but do you know what..." With Amy pressed up behind me and with her panties over my face I couldn't reply. "...I'm impressed, Thomas, but you know what? I didn't make any fucking rules!" With that Alex pressed harder with her body and her panties as if I might foolishly consider flight. Denise reached up with both hands, unbuckled my belt, popped my button, and unzipped my fly. My half-hard cock rocketed to full engorgement and bobbed out obscenely when she pushed my jeans and briefs to my ankles. I was aware that he was slick with lubricant that had been flowing since my pantie experience an hour or so earlier. Some women find the quantity of fluid I produce a little off-putting for oral sex and I often need to wipe him down before sticking him in their mouths. But Denise didn't hesitate to swallow me whole. No teasing licks or kisses, she just took me deep into her warm wet mouth and immediately began to bob on my rock hard tool. Amy held the panties with one hand but now she reached around around and grasped the base of my shaft. My brain registered that it was the first time she'd really touched me there which was a bizarre thought since it was also the first time I'd had my cock in my other neighbor's willing mouth. Together they pleasured me towards oblivion. "Tell me when you're about to cum, Thomas," said Denise between mouthfuls. It wasn't long: "Aaaargh, I'm going to cum!" I gasped. Denise deepthroated me four or five times more and my cock swelled mighty in Amy's little hand. I grunted something unintelligible but Dennis didn't flinch as my first two blasts hit the back of her throat. Then she plopped my cock from her mouth and took my third spurt squarely on her chest right at the top of her cleavage. She pointed me higher and received the final series in and around her mouth. Alex still held my by the shaft with her right hand but she took her panties from my face and swapped them to my cock. She eased me from Denise's mouth and squeezed out a little cum into the crotch. Denise took me back in her mouth and cleaned me thoroughly. She released me and I staggered on unsteady knees. "Wipe me, Thomas," she demanded and lifted up from the bowl a little, holding her dress to her waist with the palm of her hand. I hesitated and began to reach for the paper: "No, asshole, just use your hand!" I reached between her thighs and cupped her pussy. It was soaking wet with a sticky combination of juices and pee. At first I wiped as if I was using toilet paper but then my finger parted her lips and my thumb pressed her big fleshy clit. She let me finger her like this for a moment and then pulled my wrist away: "Mmm, I like that but I did promise Martin his weekly treat tonight. Maybe next time! Lick your fingers clean but don't wash your hands before tomorrow morning." I licked the sticky mess from my happy fingers. Direct from the source, her flavor was even stronger than from the panties and it was mixed with the acidic taste of pee. The girls were a whirlwind of activity now. Amy was scrambling back into her panties (I caught a brief glimpse of her smoothly shaved pussy) while Denise returned hers to the hamper. Apparently she was staying commando for hers or Martin's sake. My cum had partially run into her cleavage and she took a washcloth to remove any visible trace of it above. "I'm a fucking freaky bitch!" She exclaimed. "I'm going to get a kick out of Martin licking your cum off my tits later. We'd better eat these brownies and get back the fuck downstairs." "I doubt I fucking Dave will eat my pussy tonight," said Amy, "but I've got a little souvenir in my panties just in case he does!" We'd been gone a long time but none of the drunken husbands or guests were paying attention. I don't really remember much of the rest of the party. A wife I hadn't met before joined me outside for a couple of smokes. She was talkative and sexy and I think she was unknowingly attracted to whatever vibes a guy exudes who has just been jerked off by two married women in a bathroom. I love women and my ever-energetic little cock was interested in this one too but I thought to myself: "Chill, Thomas, I think you have enough on your plate for now." Amy and Dave we the first of my better friends to leave. Amy hugged me tightly and kissed my earlobe rather than my cheek. Dave shook the hand I wasn't allowed to wash until tomorrow. Rescuing Amy Ch. 04 Soon after I made my excuses and began to say my good nights. My cute smoking buddy gave me a nice hug and I tried to avoid wearing out my souvenir hand by man-hugging the guys along with a friendly left handed back pat. At home I stripped off my clothes. Although Denise had cleaned me well with her delicious mouth my briefs were a little damp and sticky. I collapsed into bed and inhaled what was left of her from my fingers before sharing them with my cock as we excitedly reviewed our incredible night. Eventually I shot a healthy load into a tissue from the bedside box and we rolled over to sleep. I sniffed my fingers one last time and I imagined I could still smell Denise beneath the stronger scent of cock and cum. "Good night my friend," I said. "Good night buddy," he replied.