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Stretching

By: Sultry81



Yes. The measurements mentioned in this story are mine. Fierce is what I am.

--Sultry81

*

I am done with work today! I can't concentrate and I keep having to get out of this stupid chair to stretch my back. It hurts and I can't function so I'm going home. I made up an excuse for my supervisor and head out.

I leave work and hop into the car that I love and head home. Is there wine in the fridge? Yes. My favorite Moscato. Wine at 2pm on a Tuesday? Yes ma'am!

I being to unwind during the 20 minute drive home and settle into the soft black leather seats while the wind blows in through the open sunroof and tosses my shoulder length hair all around me. I love being me! My skin feels so nice with the breeze caressing it. By the time I park the car in the garage and lock it I'm well on my way to being very, very relaxed.

This stupid briefcase weighs a ton but at least I'm not carrying it in addition to a purse! I drop it just inside the mudroom and head straight for the master suite. The house is quiet and still. My mind drifts as I take off my 2 inch pumps and climb the stairs. I love this house, our house. 

I smile as I think of you and where you are. The gym is normally busy on Monday and Tuesday nights. Why, no one can figure out. I wonder if you're busy but decide against calling you to play hooky. You probably would try to subtly remind me that I wouldn't be stretching all day if I visited the gym (your gym) more than once or twice a month, lol! Shaking my head I enter the bedroom to see that you've made the bed. Surprising. 

I strip off my suit in pieces. I'm so used to stripping slowly for you every night that it's reflex now. Jacket, skirt, shirt, nylons, bra and panties. Being naked is so freeing and relaxing, arousing as well. After so many years of being married it ties my sexuality to thoughts of you no matter if you're here or not.

I regretfully pull out my violet sports bra and matching boy shorts. Heading into the study I snag my mp3 player from the ledge in the hallway and set it to random. 

Feeling the plush slate blue carpet under my toes in this room is always so comforting. I close my eyes slowly and begin. Hands straight up and arch back. My back cracks some and I bend harder. I use the desk to hold on to while using it to increase my backward bend. Slowly stand up straight, exhale, inhale and then bend forward. Wrapping my arms around my knees I hold still. Exhale and stand up straight. I snicker to myself. You've never seen me do this. Thick women aren't supposed to be able to move like this and at 42H-34-48, 5'7 and 240 I definitely qualify for thick!!! Move to sit on the floor and legs straight. Grab my toes and spread my thighs slowly. I relish the burn. I really should go back to the gym. 

Elsewhere in the house, you come home and don't bother with the garage. In the front door and up the stairs you go. Cell phone in your ear you run into the bedroom to get the change of clothes that aren't in your office. "This happens every day after she does laundry" you think to yourself and even though you know it, you always forget to get a fresh set. 

"Clothes on the bed? I finally make this giant lake of a bed and she covers it in clothes?" muttering to myself I pick them up and put them in the chair that "She asked for! Wait a minute... Her clothes? Is she here? Where is she?" I don't hear anything. I check the shower and the kitchen. Nothing. I walk past the study and there she is. That's the reason I can't have a yoga class at the gym. That freaking Camel position gets me hot so fast it's inhuman!

"I'll call you back!" I hang up the phone and let it fall out of my hands.

"That small waist and phat booty is so sexy!"

I can see a little bit of her breasts leaking out of the top of that tight purple sports bra. I groan with how much I love those big breasts. She can't hear me with those stupid ear plugs but damn she's so sexy. I can't believe that all of that baby soft milk chocolate skin is mine. Damn, I love her! 

I'm sweating and my muscles ache, time to do my last set. Hands up, eyes closed and bend backwards. 

"OH FUCK!" That's unbelievable!"

Stand up stretch forward and down. Wrap hands around knees and hold. 

I have got to get inside my wife when she's like this. How long has she been able to do this? Wait a minute... "Baby!"

Someone is behind me. 

I'm pulling out those ear plugs.

Snatch!

"AAAAAAHHHHHHHHEEEEEEEEE!!!!"

"Baby!"

"What the heck, you scared the crap out of me!!!"

"I'm sorry."

"Jerk! Why are you here?" 

Somewhat sheepishly I answer, "I live here. Yesterday was laundry day so my gym clothes are here, again."

"How often do you forget your gym clothes?"

"Nearly every Tuesday after you do laundry on Monday."

"Seriously?" I laugh out loud.

"Swear." 

All I can do is shake my head.

"Baby, how can you stretch your body like that? How could you keep that beautiful sight from me? I never knew!"

"I've always been able to. I'm too self-conscious to do it in front of strangers at the gym."

"I'm too homicidal to let you!"

"I wouldn't. This is way too much booty to be in the air attracting eyes from all over the place."

"Bend backward towards me while I sit on the desk. See if you can reach my cock with your mouth!"

I can hear your excitement and although I roll my eyes, it turns me on. I want to do this for you but I know it won't be able to for that long. I stretch back and use your thighs to hold on to and your cock is there straining to reach my mouth. I can get the first 2 or 3 inches in but that's it. You pull my breasts out of my sports bra and pinch my nipples. I love that but in this position I can't breathe. 

I back off and slowly stand up and turn to face you. You watch my breasts jiggle with freedom and I watch 1/3 of your cock eye me all shiny and angry.

"Honey that was such a treat! Wow! Your talents never cease to amaze me!"

If it were possible for me to blush from your praise, I would.

"Now turn around and do the other one gain. Bend forward and hold your legs like before."

"Oh, ok?"

"Damn honey, what a world class ass!" 

I try but it's hard to giggle with my diaphragm compressed. 

You come up behind me and rub your erection on the crease of my boy shorts. 

I know what you are trying to do. You and that big cock have ruined my sexy walk before! You back up a little and drop your pants and boxer briefs the rest of the way then slowly peel my boy shorts down revealing the object of your lust a few inches at a time.

They drop to the floor and I can feel your hands rubbing my bottom then gliding up the back of my thighs over my butt and down my back aiming for the clasp of the sports bra.

You exhale, "Baby, I love your skin! It's so soft and warm!"

All I feel is that hot cock almost burning a memory onto my skin. I never appreciate our differences more than when we're making love. At 6'4 and 225, your cock sits on top of my butt when you stand to hold me from behind. 

"Babe, despite how much I love feeling you like this, I can't stay bent over for much longer."

"Oh, sorry honey! I got a little distracted looking at you. Give me one more minute!"

And with that you hunch down and fit your cock to my drooling honey hole and push inside while holding my hips. My eyes flash wide and you take it slow for the first few pumps until it's all in. 

"Good grief, you feel even bigger than usual!"

"Damn baby! You feel freaking fantastic!"

He picks up speed and starts going harder and harder. If he wasn't holding me at my hips, I would have fallen onto my face but this feels so different and amazing at the same time! 

After about a minute I can't do it anymore and stand up slowly. You ease out gently as I stand and now my butt is like a cushion sitting on top of your crotch. You slip out of me and I exhale. 

"Wow!" We say the same thing at the same time.

Now I have a special treat just for you. 

"Babe, lay down on your back. I want to be on top." You do as I ask and your cock points straight up. 

"Close your eyes and don't open until I tell you!" You close them because you know that you're going to be inside of me so what does it matter if for once you can't see how it happens?

I start doing a split over you and lower onto your cock. You gasp and inhale as my heat envelopes you but you don't feel my thighs where you normally do. It's then that your eyes snap open! 

"Oh crap! Honey! Damn! Are you serious?! You can do this too?" 

"I can't get closer than about 2 inches from the floor so this will be fun," and with that I put my hands on your Abs and push myself up and down sexing you. 

You run your hands from my calves to clit to breasts and back. 

"I can't believe this! Baby, damn! Wow!" 

"I need to cum! Please! Help me! This position takes too much concentration for it to just happen." 

You reach in and stroke me. Those wet fingers know how to play me!

"Oh! That feels soo good! A little faster! Rub it in circles!"

Now I'm bouncing on top of you and you can feel my pussy gripping you harder as I get close to climax. I close my thighs a little and bring in my knees so I'm kneeling over you and trying to make you explode. I lean over you and suck one of your nipples into my mouth. You love my talented tongue and groan harshly while your body ceases up. You grab my hips to push them down while thrusting up and we both detonate. I scream and you grunt over and over. 

"Oh, Oh damn! Oh, oh, oh, oh! 

"Oh fuck!"

"AAAAAAHHHHHHHHH"

I can't move. My thighs are burning from exertion and my back is screaming. 

Our chests heave against each other. You wrap your arms around my damp back and ask, "Baby, how are you feeling? You almost killed me!" 

I snicker, "Not my fault! You started it, I just improvised. You could have left me to my stretching."

"You know if you came to the gym more often you wouldn't have to do that so frequently!"

I laugh quietly, "I knew you were going to say that."

Stretching Her Pussy



Can you feel her - wet and stretched around you?

* * * * *

Click Here to listen. (2 min/mp3)

* * * * *



Stretching His Comfort Zone



Matt reached down in the linen closet's top shelf and took down the stainless steel cock cage. He set it on the bathroom counter. Still somewhat sticky from a Sunday evening of great sex, he hopped in the shower to clean up a little. At 48, Matt was tall and strong with thinning hair and just a touch of middle-age spread. As he dried off he turned to face his wife of 25 years who was standing in the master bath doorway. Nicole was 47, with brown hair, a pleasant smile, and a pleasant shape.

Matt grinned, "Still like watching me naked after all these years?" 

Nicole returned the smile with an impish grin of her own. "Never get tired of that, babe." She nodded towards the chastity device, "What do you say? Are you up for it?" 

Normally Matt was up for anything erotic, but this time he wanted to talk a little first. He and Nikki had been expanding their sexual repertoire a little ever since their twins had started college two years ago. 

They bought a few toys, even a couple light bondage items, but they had both been eager to try enforced chastity, so they bought the steel curve six months prior. Since real life isn't like Internet fantasy it took some mechanical adjustments and a little practice before Matt could wear it for more than a few hours at a time. Usually, he put it on and they'd go out a movie date, then come home and screw like rabbits. Once or twice he had worn it all night and Nicole would give him the key the next morning so they could take advantage of the morning wood. But after sex tonight, she had suggested he wear it a little longer. 

He carried the cage out into the bedroom and she followed, throwing on some clothes as she went. He asked, "So you want me to wear this all night and all day tomorrow at work?" 

She shrugged, "How about two days? You've shown that you can wear it without discomfort. I just thought maybe you could stretch your comfort zone a bit. Besides, the sex is usually awesome after you wear it a little while and after what you did to me tonight I could use a 48-hour break. You might too," she said with a playful grab at his dick. 

Matt laughed, "That's true we could use a recharge. Okay then, I'll try but let's not try for too much at once. Tuesday night?" he said raising his eyebrows. 

She nodded, "Tuesday night it is hon. You put it together and make sure it's comfy and I'll go get the lock." He agreed and took a leak before he put it on. She returned a minute later with the padlock. "All set?" she asked.

"Yup got it "he replied holding the cage together with one hand while taking the open lock with the other. Before he closed it he asked, "you have the key then?" 

Nicole pulled down her T-shirt to reveal a simple necklace with the small brass key at the end. She tucked the key into her bra so it wouldn't swing around too much. "Got it sweets. All set". Matt closed the lock with a small audible click. 

He stepped forward and took a comically exaggerated look at her boobs. "Can I reach in there just to be sure the key is safe?" 

She slapped his hand away, "No silly you can't, but Tuesday night I'll let you fish it out with your tongue, okay?" 

Matt gave her butt a gentle swat, "Deal, let's go have a snack before bed."

The next morning Matt was painfully aware of the device for a few moments before his morning erection died down. He and Nicole kissed goodbye and went to work. Nicole worked as a computer software engineer and Matt is a logistics manager at a furniture company. As Matt drove to work he was happy that his wife was able to find work in her field after 15 years of being a stay-at-home mom. Plus, with two incomes they were barely able to send their kids to college and pay off the mortgage before retirement. The morning passed uneventfully. He found that he had to be more mindful when he sat down, but mostly he forgot the cage was even there. But then occasionally he would remember and his cock would stir in its prison. 

Their house was close to their jobs so Matt and Nicole usually ate lunch at home. When he came home at noon her car was already there. Inside he found her in the bedroom with business attire close and toiletries laid out on the bed. "What's all this?" he asked. 

She gave him a pained look. "Can you believe this? My company contracted to troubleshoot a server farm in Phoenix and they're sending me. I guess it makes sense; I'm the only one with older children. My plane leaves at 2 PM; I should be coming back late Wednesday night. Can you call my mom and tell her I can't go shopping with her Wednesday afternoon?" 

Matt pulled out his iPhone and made a note to call. Nicole's mom was 79 and refused to get a cell phone. You just had to keep calling the house phone until she answered. Then it hit him. 

"Wednesday night? But what about... you know." He vaguely pointed at his middle. 

She looked over, "Honey, I don't have time for sex my cab will be here in 30 minutes." 

He shook his head, "No, Nikki I mean you better unlock this if you going out of town. We can play the game when you get back." 

She began to reach inside her blouse for the key. "You're right I suppose we can try another time". She stopped. "Unless..." Her eyes brightened. "Why don't you wear it while I'm gone? Wednesday is just one more day and I'll bet you'll be ready to go when I get home Wednesday night!" She gave him her best seductive smile. 

He flatly replied, "I know you. After all that traveling I'll bet you won't be ready to do anything Wednesday night except sleep." 

She smiled, put her arms around him and gave his ass a squeeze. "Don't worry. When I get home I'll fuck your brains out Matt, no matter how tired I am. Besides, you have the emergency key and I'll know if you cheated." 

Matt nodded. The emergency key was in a small sealed envelope with her signature on it. One use only and she would know if he used it. He put on his game face. "Okay, have a good trip. Be safe." Once she packed, they sat on the porch together and waited for her taxi to arrive.

The remainder of Monday passed uneventfully for Matt, but sleeping that night was difficult because he kept having erotic dreams and he would wake up with an uncomfortable hard on filling the cage. The following morning he made coffee in the Keurig. No point in making a full pot when Nicole isn't home. He rubbed his face and tried to redirect his thoughts. It was Tuesday morning. Tomorrow night her flight came in at 8 PM and he would be released. By Wednesday noon, Matt was truly feeling hot and bothered. Nicole had been texting him and vice versa as they always did, but hers had been a bit more cryptic and suggestive. Words such as, "broke my diet and had a jelly donut for breakfast. It was so full it practically oozed out of its little hole". Or quick selfie of her breasts taken in the restroom with the caption "Wish you were here to fondle these. Hope you're not having too hard time while I'm away!" That picture gave Matt an unfulfilled erection that lasted almost an hour and made walking a little awkward.

When he got home Wednesday he had a light dinner. He had never been much for eating dinner alone, and he had to leave the house at 8 PM to pick his wife up at the airport. With several hours to kill Matt tried to distract himself with television but his thoughts began to linger on the spare key hidden in his suitcase downstairs. He didn't plan on using it, especially this close to the finish line. Still, he went down to the basement to retrieve it, telling himself he better feel better if he just put the small sealed envelope in his pocket. 

Their post children basement was nicely organized with empty roller suitcases hung on pegs in the wall. Matt instantly noticed something wrong. His and hers were identical, but Nicole had a small purple tag on the handle and that was the one hanging on the wall. She had taken the wrong suitcase by accident. Matt tried to remember if he ever told her where he kept the emergency key, but he couldn't remember for sure. A slight feeling of agitation began to come over him, but he calmed himself down. It was 645; she will be home soon, anyway. No need to be foolish. He trudged back upstairs to channel surf.

At 7:45 PM he was putting his coat on when the iPhone rang in FaceTime mode. When he answered it he saw Nicole sitting in what appeared to be a hotel room with a morose look on her face. This instantly doused his original thought that her flight landed early. 

She spoke first, "Yes I'm still here. The server problem is much worse than we originally thought. I just found out an hour ago that I'll be here a few more days." 

Matt's mind reeled. "A few more days!" he exclaimed. "But you took my suitcase by mistake!" 

She wore a puzzled look. "Gee Matt, I'm sorry. Are you planning a trip of your own this week?" 

"No", he said, "it's just that... well... that's where I keep the emergency key." She blinked then giggled a little. The iPhone screen blurred as she got up and moved. He heard the faint sound of a zipper, then another round of gentle laughter. The FaceTime picture settled on her face again. No laughter, but he could see a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Matt was a little irritated. "Glad you think this is funny. I'm the one stuck 2000 miles away if there's an emergency." 

She sat up a little straighter and moved her phone closer to her face. Nicole traced a finger on her collarbone as she angled the phone down ever so slightly. Matt caught a quick glimpse of her bra. It was one of her plain taupe everyday ones, but he felt his cock begin to stir for what seemed like the millionth time that day. 

When she spoke again her voice was more serious. "Are you okay honey? Do you need an emergency key? Are you in pain?" 

Matt felt a slight blush creeping up his neck. "No, no pain, just the worst case of blue balls I can remember. 

She adjusted her ponytail, "Well I'm sure that's a bit uncomfortable Matthew, but hardly an emergency." 

Matt felt his temper rise, but he stayed calm. "No, it's not. Look, honey, I've never minded a little chastity play before but this is two days longer than I've ever gone. It's turning out to be a little more challenging than I thought." 

Nicole looked disappointed. "Challenging huh? You just don't want to wait any longer. You want it off so you can jerk off a few times before I get back." 

Matt was silent. After two plus decades of marriage, Nicole could read him like a book. 

She rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I'm sorry honey. You're right. We originally agreed on Tuesday then it got changed. This week is taking more twists and turns that we originally thought. I shouldn't have said it that way. So I guess you want me to mail the key?" 

Matt seized on that. "Hey, that's a good idea. Is it around your neck? I don't see your necklace." 

She said, "No, I put it on my key ring with the other keys. Easier to get through airport security." She stood up and put her purse on her shoulder. "Tell you what babe. There's a post office a block away from the hotel. They don't close until five. I'll walk over there and put it in the mail now before I go back to work." She flashed a sexy smile at the phone. "You want standard delivery or bulk rate?" 

Matt tried not to roll his eyes. "Next day delivery. I want to be sure I get it." 

Nicole nodded, "Next day delivery it is. I better get going." They said quick goodbyes then hung up. Matt took a deep breath then went to the fridge for a beer. 

Twenty minutes later Nicole's text tone rang on his phone. The text read, "Key is on the way. At least, try to think of me when you're tugging it XOXO" Matt settled back into the couch. Just one more day...

He slept much better that night, but he woke up with a massive erection that made it difficult to pee. However, his mood was much improved at work but he still couldn't stop thinking about sex. On a normal day seeing Kathy the intern bending over to change the toner cartridge would hardly warrant a thought from him. Today, though it left him with a confined hard on that lasted the better part of an hour. 

He spent most of the morning at his desk. At lunch time, he checked the mailbox as soon as he pulled in the driveway. Nothing. He noticed several neighbors flags were up with outgoing mail. Damn. Mail hasn't come yet. He ate a short lunch and headed back to the office. He tried to duck out a little early today. It made sense; his mind definitely wasn't on his work. No luck there, however. At 4:59 PM he got a call from the home office and didn't end up leaving the parking lot until 5:30. Pulling into the driveway, he yanked open the mailbox. Bill, bill, credit card offer, junk coupons, and a post office card notifying him of the certified envelope he must sign for at the main branch of the post office. 

He groaned, "You've got to be kidding me. She must've spent $20 sending it that way." He checked his watch. 5:47. getting back in the car Matt thought, 'maybe I'll make it.'

He did not make it. Matt arrived at the post office at 6:10, ten minutes after closing. With a stab of cruel irony, he noticed a sign saying that extended holiday hours start the following week. Despondent and frustrated he stopped for taking out and went home. 

He tried to go about his normal routine, but he ended up channel surfing. Regardless of what was on he kept noticing every female form in exquisite detail, Matt was a faithful husband, but like all men he couldn't help but notice attractive women from time to time. The images on the screen triggered many fantasies, but they were all about his wife in vivid detail. Even the random woman in toothpaste commercial reminded him of his soul mate. For a moment, he almost liked the device. Not only did it keep his member in, it also kept fantasies about other women out. 

He decided to be 30 minutes late for work that Friday morning. Therefore, he was first in line at the post office when it opened. Squeezing the envelope he could tell that there was a key inside. At work the first chance he got he locked himself in the handicapped bathroom. He could not even entertain the thought of masturbation at work, but at least, he could let it out to stretch. He turned on the water to mask any clinking sounds and opened the envelope as quietly as possible. 

The key did not work. By did not work that meant it didn't even fit into the lock. Huh. He took a closer look. Right color, right size, but the shape was slightly off if memory served. He put on his reading glasses and looked closer. The fine print on the key had a serial number, a stern "DO NOT DUPLICATE" and the words "planet fitness". He closed his eyes and tried to breathe deeply. She had mailed him her gym locker key. 

That day at work Matt sent multiple texts to his lovely wife. Each one became a little more urgent than the last. "Call me when you get a chance", "please call ASAP" "where are you? Call me work or cell please" "call me got a problem here". Either she wasn't checking her phone or she was ignoring him. As the workday rolled by he even tried her cell several times. It went straight to voicemail.

That evening at home he still hadn't heard from Nicole. He stood idly in the bathroom. He tried shaking the cage. It felt good, but it wasn't enough stimulation. "What else?" he thought to himself. The gaps in the cage were rather narrow, so he opened a new toothbrush. After a few minutes, he gave up and made a mental note to buy a replacement. Perhaps something narrower would work. He took a Kleenex and twisted it into a thin stick. Poking it through the gap, he began to play with himself. It tickled a bit at first, and then started to feel good, but still not enough. 

Paul poked around under the sink. Comb? No. Hairbrush? Too rough. Tweezers? Yikes. Ahh. Q-tips! He took out a handful of cotton swabs, put a dab of Astroglide on one, and went to work on the sensitive underside of his penis. As he went at it, he closed his eyes and fantasized about Nicole. 

Thirty minutes later, he flopped down on the bed, a small pile of bent and broken Q-tips beside him. He had gotten close, but just couldn't get enough stimulation to put him over the edge. He had only succeeded in making things worse, as his balls now felt as heavy as lead weights. On the other hand, if they handed out Olympic medals for creepy pervy acts, he would've won the gold today. 

Resigned, he entered the living room to the sound of his phone chime. The text read "your last text said problem. Do you want to call or FaceTime?" Matt quickly texted back "FaceTime" and turned on his iPad. 

The connection was excellent. He saw Nikki sitting at the hotel desk wearing just her underwear. Her hair was sloppily pinned up with a pencil and she had her work laptop open. From when she took work home, he could tell she had been rewriting code. She took her reading glasses off and massaged the bridge of her nose. "So what's the problem hon?" 

Matt was momentarily taken aback by her appearance. "Where are your clothes?" 

She frowned, "The air conditioning on this floor is broken. They're fixing it now, but it'll probably be a few more hours at least. I just checked its 86 ° in the room. But get this. The hotel said they'd reimburse my employer for one day's stay. Doesn't help me much, does it?" She reached up to scratch her nose and sure enough, Matt noticed small beads of sweat at her hairline, and on her chest where her cleavage began. 

He was instantly reminded of the camping trip they had in college, making love all night in July, getting sticky and covered with mosquito bites in uncomfortable places... His dick grew restless again so he pushed the 26-year-old memory aside. 

Concerned, he asked, "Why don't you go work in the lobby? I'm sure you could camp out there without any trouble." 

Nicole was a champion eye roller and, this time was no exception. "And get hit on by drunken businessmen? No thanks. Being a woman traveling alone isn't easy Matthew. Fellow business travelers usually think you rather are either easy or a hooker." She gave a hint of a smile. "Besides, I prefer having someone waiting for me at home. But I'm really busy here sweets. What's the problem? You've texted me like 10 times today. Did the key make it?" 

His irritation flared. "Well yeah, a key made it but not the right one. I got the key to your gym locker. You sent the wrong one!" 

She looked puzzled, and then bent out of camera range to retrieve her purse. She rummaged around and faced the screen again, rubbing her forehead. "So I did. I'm sorry Matt, I was in a hurry. I must've taken the wrong one off the key ring." 

Matt rolled his eyes, and snapped "Whatever! Just find a UPS or FedEx and send the right one! This is ridiculous!" 

Nikki's eyes narrowed and her mouth set in a tight line. "And what if I won't?" 

Her husband stammered, "I'm not kidding Nicole!" 

She fixed her ponytail. "I'm not kidding either. It's just three more days Matthew! When I was recovering from having the twins we couldn't have sex for two months, remember?" Matt nodded sheepishly. "So if I can go without an orgasm postpartum for 60 days, why can't you last for three more?" 

Matt moderated his tone. "I'm sorry I snapped at you, Nicole, it's just frustrating. My nuts feel all congested and heavy. It's different for guys! Come on babe, please?" 

She looked him dead in the eye. "Sorry, the answer is still no...Unless..." 

Matt tried to hide his astonishment. "Unless what?" he asked, suddenly wary. 

"Unless you show them to me," she said with a hint of a smile. She leaned forward and intentionally pushed her boobs forward. 

Matt was momentarily distracted by her fullness and the white lace of her lingerie. "Show what to you?" 

Her mouth widened into a playful smile, "Your balls, silly. Let me have a look. If they look desperate enough to me, then I'll leave right this minute and send the key FedEx."




Stretching His Comfort Zone



Matt shifted in his chair, now slightly embarrassed. "How, exactly, am I supposed to show you that?" 

His wife smiled even wider, "It's not rocket science honey. Stand up, turn on all the kitchen lights, drop your pants and hold your junk close to the IPad. I'll take a good look and make a decision." 

Matt wasn't a prude, but he was slightly body shy. All horniness aside, he did feel a little ridiculous wearing the device. "I don't know Nikki, I really don't think that's..." 

She cut him off mid sentence and held up her hand. "Sorry, sweet stuff, it's your only chance. Unless you show me I won't even consider sending you the key. Your call." She leaned back to stretch and began to hum the Jeopardy theme tune.

Matt sighed, stood up, and did as he was told. On the screen, she put on her glasses. "Lean closer. Come on, move a little closer. Hold still and turn to your left some... that's it...okay, I got a good look." 

He pulled his pants back up, "Well? What do you think?" 

She said, "I think that you'll definitely be on time and eager to see me at the airport this Sunday." 

Matt just stared. "You can't be serious!" 

She winked, "I most certainly am. See you in three days. I love you. Be good!" and the call ended. 

Matt stared at the blank tablet for a second then powered it off and quietly put it away. He was surprised to feel tears of frustration forming in his eyes. Wiping them off with the back of his hand he began to wander through the empty house. Occasionally he stopped to straighten or pick something up that was out of place. In the bedroom, he stopped at the bureau. On impulse, he checked the bottom of her sock drawer where she kept her favorite vibrator. It was gone. In its place was a small note hastily scribbled on the back of an old Panera receipt. 

It read, "Yep, I took it with me. Every night when I'm bringing myself to orgasm I'll think of you and my little 'prisoner'. Hope you have a sexy time until I return!" Matt crumpled up the note and tried a three-pointer at the trash can. 

Later he watched TV trying to take his mind off the predicament he was in. It didn't work. As was the case over the years he felt let down after harsh words were said. Television wasn't helping at all. He never realized how much erotic imagery went into even a shampoo commercial. Presently he turned off the TV and went to the kitchen. On a hunch, he reached behind the shelf of cookbooks and pulled out a crumpled half pack of Camels. 

Nicole had supposedly quit 10 years ago, but he still smelled it on her sometimes. He himself had quit when the kids started kindergarten. He knew how it felt. He had always feigned ignorance to her open secret and she never mentioned it either. He stuck one in his mouth and lit it from the stove. A little stale, but okay. If Nikki was going to be a closet smoker, at least, she bought a decent brand. 

Matthew stood at the sink smoking and tapping ashes down the garbage disposal. The nicotine rush made him a bit woozy by the third drag. When he finished he opened the kitchen window to disperse the smoke. Pleasant fall breeze blew in his face. Looking at their neat back yard, he smiled as he remembered the days when it was littered with toys and bicycles.

These wistful memories made his sexual desire fade away. It was replaced by a deep emotional wave of love, carried along by memories of the last 26 years. He thought of Nicole working in the kitchen carefully planning healthy meals for him and the kids. He thought of how she always put him and the twins first, and worked so hard to create a happy home for them all. He didn't think of the sexy Nicole, but the Nicole who loved and supported him, and had never hurt him. He remembered the times she had held his son's head when he was sick with a stomach bug. He thought of Nicole staying up late every night for a week making a Halloween costume for their daughter. He thought of all the times he had shown interest in a book or movie, and she had surprised him with a copy when they could spare the money, even if he had mentioned six months prior. How she could always find excellent bargains on shoes and clothes, when money was tight. How many miles she had logged driving to and from soccer practice. 

And he also remembered when his parents died in the car wreck, how depressed he was, and how she carried him through a hard time. She had insisted he see a counselor and held on tightly for him to him for months until the depression passed. He understood that this was just a game. She was teasing him a little bit and he loved her so much. He didn't mind playing along. She was worth it. Besides, he was almost having fun despite himself.

Sunday afternoon found Matt at the airport 45 minutes early waiting for Nicole's flight to arrive and trying not to squirm. He tried his best to concentrate on the USA today he had brought, but he couldn't help but notice every pair of snug jeans, every halter top, and every bra strap peeking out of the shoulder of a sundress. Finally, Nicole appeared, looking tired, irritated, and slightly disheveled in her gray business attire. They hugged, waited for her (his!) suitcase to appear on the claim carousel, and drove home mostly in silence. When they got home, she shrugged off her flats and made a beeline for the bedroom. Matt followed her in, stripping down to his underwear in about 10 seconds flat. He also noticed she was wearing the key around her neck again. 

She turned around and gave a tired smile, "Nice balls." She reached out and gently caressed his balls through his briefs. It took all of his self-control to keep from moaning out loud. She said, "I swear they feel bigger than last Sunday." Nicole gave him a peck on the cheek, "I'm going to take a shower. I feel nasty from traveling."

Matt stopped her, "Wait, Nikki, could you give me the key first?" He vaguely waved at his middle for emphasis. 

His wife sighed, "Matt, I love you to death, but I'm worn out from this trip. Just let me go get cleaned up." 

Matt almost exploded, "Look, honey, I'm not asking for sex this instant, but it's been almost 7 days! Just give me the key so I can take this damn thing off and have a full erection!" 

She began to take off her work clothes. Of course, Matt couldn't help but stare at the long necklace with the key carefully tucked into the right cup of her bra. "Matt it's been a rough week and we're both a little irritated, but I don't really want to hear that tone. Yes, you've been wearing that 'damn' thing a week so I don't see how an extra 30 minutes will make much of a difference! Like I said I need to get cleaned up and then we'll talk." 

Matt started to open his mouth, but she cut him off this time with a slightly sharper tone. "And to be honest, I don't like the thought of you fondling yourself out here while I'm in the shower so I'll see you in a short while. If you want to get angry and be an ass about it then perhaps we can delay our chat for another day or two!" 

Matt fell silent, suddenly realizing he would be at a severe disadvantage if he chose to start an argument now. She gave him a slight smile. "Thank you. Now would you be so kind as to put these in the hamper?" She handed him her clothes and underwear.  

Without another word he took them and reached for his pants which were lying on the floor. She called over her shoulder, "No need for that you can stay as you are. You look really cute in your tighty whites. I like seeing the bulge." 

He walked down the hallway trying to keep his frustration under control. Despite himself her last comment I made him blush a little and he felt his dick start to thicken up again. He went to the laundry room and dumped her lingerie and clothes in the hamper. He heard the shower running and he told himself he would play the game as long as she wanted to. She certainly seems to be getting a kick out of it. Then he spotted the suitcase standing in the hallway. Maybe he wouldn't need to. 

The key wasn't in the suitcase, just the empty envelope. Apparently Nicole thought of everything. He heard her voice calling from the shower. Rolling his eyes, he went back to the bathroom doorway. 

She poked her pretty wet head out of the shower curtain, "Could you be a dear and hand me the new bottle of conditioner on the sink?" Carefully keeping a straight face, Matt grabbed the bottle and walked over to the shower. Instead of taking the bottle she used both hands to slip his underwear off his waist. 

She drew him into the shower, key in hand. Her voice was soft and gentle, "Let's get this off and let your guy stretch out a bit. You want me to wash him off, too?" Not waiting for an answer, she unlocked it, and the sex toy fell to the floor. 

Her hands, the warm water, and the soapy washcloth felt so good he was unsteady on his feet. "Nikki, I don't think it will take me very long to..." 

She kissed his neck tenderly, "I don't expect you to. Just let go. After we clean up, there are plenty of things you can do to me while we wait for you to get hard again." Three gentle strokes after that, he came like never before. Round after round exploded from his member, splashing the curtain, the tub, and both of them. It seemed to last forever. He rested his chin on her head for a few seconds to catch his breath. She nuzzled his neck again, "Better?" 

"Yeah", he croaked. 

"Good", she said and turned around. "Why don't you wash my back, then I'll wash yours. We can't spend all day in here, you know."

Afterward they dozed until the post-coital drowsiness began to fade. Nicole rose up on an elbow, "So, serious question. Did you like that?" 

Matt replied, "It was awesome. I haven't come that many times since we were newlyweds." 

She gave him a gentle tickle on the ribs. "No, goofball! I meant the game we played all week!" 

To his surprise, he said, "Actually, yes it was pretty hot. It was a bit of a stretch for me, though." 

She nodded. "Yeah. When we got home today I could tell seven days was a bit too much for you. That's why I let you out. Though watching you climb the walls with frustration really turns me on." She paused, biting her lower lip. "Would you be willing to try again some other time? I promise to keep the duration a little shorter." 

Matt considered, "I'm up for that, but you have to answer a few questions first." 

She sat up in bed and cupped her chin in her hand. "Fire away." 

He looked her in the eye, "Did you know I kept the emergency key in my suitcase downstairs?" 

She grinned, "Yep I've known where you put it ever since we bought the device." 

He nodded, "Okay, then. Did you take my suitcase on purpose?" 

The grin got even wider. "Yep again. You know me. I would never make a mistake like that. I'm too much of a perfectionist." 

Matt nodded again, "This is true." Twenty plus years of marriage in an immaculate house testified to that. Matt sat up as well, "Did you know your business trip would last so long?" 

She dropped the grin, "No, I was just as disappointed as you. I had planned to come up with some bullshit excuse Wednesday night to delay your release another day, but things turned out differently." 

Matthew flopped down again, grateful to be able to lie on his stomach. He gave her a wry glance, "Certified mail, huh? The post office was closed Thursday by the time I was able to check the mail." 

Nicole giggled. "I knew you wouldn't get the notification card in time." 

Matt looked at her quizzically, "How could you be so sure?" 

She winked, "I was a stay-at-home mom for 15 years. I couldn't be 100% sure, but our subdivision has always been the last route of the day for our carrier. I can count on the fingers of one hand the number of times the mail has arrived before 2 PM, much less noon. 

Matt broke in, "And it was the wrong key, I might add." 

Nicole idly played with the rumpled bed sheet. "I kinda did that on impulse. When you called Friday I was a little worried that I had gone too far, but I kept my poker face. I hope you're not upset, Matt. I just wanted to tease you a little. It added a lot of fun to work a workaholic business trip. Oh, and look at this, hon." Nicole reached under the bed. She pulled out an old shoe box. She reached inside and held up her vibrator. "See? That note was a decoy. I left it here. The whole time I was gone, I went without, same as you." 

Her husband sat up again and drew her into a close romantic hug. "I know I got a little testy, but I'm not really upset. You did push my limits a bit. Deep down, I knew I could trust you. That being said, I don't mind playing again, but there's just one thing. Seriously, Nikki, it was a little dangerous for me being here without an emergency key." 

Nicole flashed him a sly smile. "There's been an emergency key all week long." She crawled over to his side of the king-size bed. Spent as his cock was, he still felt a slight stirring at the gentle sway of her breasts as she moved. She took his old alarm clock off the nightstand. It was the plug in kind, but she flipped it over and took off the cover that held the back-up 9V battery. Taped inside was the key. His mouth fell open, speechless. "You never use this alarm clock anymore. Perfect hiding spot. See honey? All those sleepless nights when you tossed and turned, balls full of frustrated cum, the key was just 2 feet from your sexy head the entire time." 

Matt got his voice back. "You can be flat out wicked, you know that?" 

She got up and started pulling her clothes on. "You used to say that when we were dating. Now I'm close to being an old woman. I guess some things never change, huh? Now get dressed and take me out for pizza. Good sex makes me hungry." 

Matt reached for his jeans and goosed her as she walked by. "It's a date," he said with a smile.



Stretching Peggy's Bladder



This story is fiction. It concerns an older woman who starts out to enact a solo fantasy, but gets caught and winds up paying a price to get out of the resulting situation. There is no hard sex, and the activity is all consenual (albeit reluctantly). It involves exhibitionism and watersports with a strong "hold-it" theme. MM/F, Exhib, WS

* * * * *

Chapter 1

She was on her way home, having finished a meeting with a client about sixty miles away. It was just after noon, and she had no appointments for the afternoon. Her route passed through a heavily wooded area, part of a National Forest, on a quiet road. She had deliberately chosen this route, for she loved the outdoors and especially the cool forest in the summer. It was a warm July afternoon, and her thoughts turned back to the days, many years earlier, when she had spent summers with her parents on a farm adjoining woods, not unlike those she was passing through. As an only child, and with few other children in the area, she had learned to amuse herself in the outdoors, exploring, climbing, watching the small woodland wildlife, and just enjoying walking through the forest and feeling the leaves brush her body, the grass beneath her feet, and the warm air on her body.

Margaret Morrison was no longer a young girl, but she still loved the outdoors and went for her hikes and walks whenever she could. Now she was fifty two, a grandmother with grown children and a husband who owned a store which occupied most of his time. He shared her enthusiasm for the outdoors, but there simply was little time in his life for him to share those outdoor adventures they had done together when younger. He was a good husband to her, and their life together was reasonably satisfying, but more and more she was learning to enjoy experiences by herself. She, too, was in the business world. She was a CPA, with her own practice and a small but loyal clientele, mostly small businesses within a radius of a hundred miles or so of her home. Often she drove to meet with clients at their own locations, and it was from such a meeting that she was returning today.

Margaret, or Peggy as her friends knew her, had planned this afternoon for herself. She was again going to take a bit of time for a hike in the woods. She still had her love of exercise and the great outside, and she had kept herself in good condition. To be sure, she had put on a few pounds since her marriage some thirty years ago, but at a hundred and fifty odd pounds and with her dark brown hair beginning to bear touches of gray, she was not an unattractive matron, she thought. The picture of professional dignity, she worked in business suits and carefully groomed hair, and this was the way she looked today. Her mind flashed back to a time when she was more carefree.

When she about twelve and thirteen, she made many hikes into those woodlands surrounding the farm, usually alone. A smile crossed her face as she recalled her more naughty activities, about which she never told her parents or her family. In fact, only one other person had ever learned of her very private activities there, and long ago she had lost track of him. She reflected, with that slightly embarrassed smile, what she had liked to do.

As a young girl, she loved to walk through the woods, enjoying the occasional wildlife, the warm summer air on her body, the grass beneath her feet, the feeling of complete privacy with nature. As a city bred girl, the special joy was the feeling of being alone in a big forest; not so big as to threaten her with getting lost, but big enough to shield her completely from the outside world for a time. In that very private green world, though, she had learned to enhance the feeling of the warm air on her skin and the leaves brushing against her. She had learned to experience those feelings without the insulation of clothing. Wandering alone into the woods, she had simply found a suitable secluded spot, and removed her clothes - everything she had on. Then, she would walk about in the woods, naked, feeling the leaves brush her body and the warm air on every part of her skin. She remembered it was a delicious feeling, with no doubt a bit of an erotic element, delightfully naughty. She would sometimes walk in forest for a hour or two with nothing on, knowing she was safe from prying eyes; before eventually returning to her cache of clothing and then returning, fully dressed, to the farm and her family.

No one had ever found out about these excursions she made into the woodlands, well, with one exception. She had never been discovered, and eventually her family no longer returned to the area and she grew out of the idea, or perhaps the opportunity simply ceased to be there. Anyway, it was indeed a peculiar kind of fun while it lasted. She did remember that there had been one tine she had shared her forest adventure. Once, a boy about her own age had visited the farm, and she had been with him much of the day. He was shy, not too used to being around girls, and they had simply taken long walks together. At one point they had gone into the woods, to the spot where she usually began her private activities. Somehow, they got to talking about their mutual shyness, and something was said about seeing someone without clothes. She finally got around to telling him that she liked to come to the woods, take her clothes off, and walk around a bit without them in the forest, and he responded with some interest. One or the other, she couldn't recall which, had suggested, in a joking way, that they might like to try it together; and, after a bit of discussion, it was no longer a joke. Both had shyly, slowly, disrobed as they watched each other; and then they had spent a few minutes (not hours, as she did alone, for both were fearful of discovery) walking naked through the forest. It was the first time she had ever let a boy see her naked, and the first time she had ever seen a naked boy her own age. They had done nothing but look, she recalled, and later he and his family left. She never saw him again..

But today, Peggy Morrison, 52, business woman, accountant, grandmother, was going to go for a private hike in these green trees of the National Forest. But that was not all she had planned. For today, she thought, she was again going to do what she had done as a young girl forty years ago - she was going to find a secluded spot, hang up her clothes, and, for a little while, take a private hike in the forest completely nude. And she wasn't going to tell a soul - not her husband, not her best friends. It was too, well, kinky. But she knew she was going to love it. The thought was just delicious.

As she drove through the wooded area, she sensed two feelings in her body; first, she was thirsty. It was warm and she was driving with windows open, to enjoy the summer air. She hadn't drunk much while at her meeting, not really being much of a coffee freak. She preferred healthful spring water, which she bought in gallon jugs, and kept one in the car to quench her thirst. She had a nearly full one with her, and she anticipated drinking from it when she stopped.

The other sensation was a signal from her bladder asking for relief. It wasn't really urgent, but it was growing stronger. She noted the time, close to one o'clock, and reflected that she hadn't urinated since about seven thirty that morning, when she left home. Peggy was careful and modest about bodily functions. She didn't mind using public restrooms, but she refrained from asking to use the ladies' room when she was in a client's office. She would use rest rooms there only if she could do it without being noticed, as when moving from one office to another alone, when she might stop in a ladies facility in a hallway. She was very sensitive to her professional image, and in her mind it detracted from her professional bearing if she asked a client, or even a client's female employee, if she might use the bathroom. Also, she was very correct in matters of language and personal dignity, and hated to use slang or colloquial terms in business situations. When with a client, she would not use terms like "go to the bathroom" and surely not "pee". She thus avoided using a client's rest room facilities and tried to use public rest rooms or gas stations when she had the need. 

Her avoidance of restrooms did not apply, however, when she was in business situations not involving clients, such as in gatherings of her peers. Further, she hated the common terms and if she had to refer to relieving herself, she would more likely say specifically what she intended. Indeed, a few years ago, in a professional society conference room and in a meeting that had gone far too long, she shocked her mainly male colleagues by announcing "This meeting has gone on far too long. I'm taking a break because I need to urinate, and I suspect some of you do too!"

Today, however, she hadn't used a restroom all morning. When she found a place to stop for her woodland exploration, she would then relieve her bladder as well.

She came to a good stopping point. There was an open area along the road, adequate to leave the car, and then a grassy area perhaps fifty yards wide with the forest beyond. She parked. She locked her purse and briefcase in the car. Her keys she hooked onto a bracelet on her left arm, mindful that she was planning to do without her clothes. Then carrying her water jug in a small bag, she headed into the woods.

She walked into the forest perhaps a hundred yards. It was not thick forest, and the undergrowth was not dense. It was easy walking, but her path lay over a mat of leaves and small twigs. She continued on, perhaps another fifty yards, then came to a tree with some fairly bare horizontal branches at about shoulder height. A good clothes rack, she thought, and far enough from the road that it seemed very unlikely anyone would wander into the area. There was no evidence about of any recent human visitors. She looked at the mat of undergrowth and made a quick decision; she would keep her shoes on. She remembered walking barefoot when she was thirteen or so, but she decided she was not going to expose her bare feet to what might be lurking below the leaves. Shoes would not compromise her objective.

She looked about, then slipped off her low heeled shoes. She pulled off her pantyhose, hanging the garment on the tree. After further careful looks about, she slipped off her suit jacket and her skirt., hanging them on the tree branch. Her blouse was next.

Now, she slipped her shoes back on. She was standing in the woods wearing only a bra and a half slip. The feeling was of marvelous adventure. Somehow, it was like being a girl again. She unsnapped the bra, hanging it up, noting that her breasts sagged a bit with their fifty two years, but, she thought, not bad for her age. Her breasts were never overly large, but her husband had seemed satisfied with them. She had not been showing them elsewhere. She slipped off the half slip, revealing her bare hips, a bit veined but still well proportioned, and her abdominal area; the lower part of which was covered by a rich thick growth of pubic hair, which she never trimmed. She thought trimming it seemed a bit immodest, because where would she go that anyone would see it? She was not given to wearing abbreviated clothing or skimpy swim suits. 

Now she was nude, except for her shoes and her bracelet holding the keys. She felt the air over all of her body. Deliberately, she walked by some bushes and felt the brushing of the leaves on her breasts and hips. She was immensely enjoying what she was doing.

Her bladder reminded her of its need for relief. Now free of clothes, she squatted slightly and released a strong stream of urine into the matted leaves below her. Then she stood, and quenched her thirst with a long drink from her water jug.

Chapter 2

For a few minutes she walked deeper into the forest, absorbing the smells, the feeling of leaves and branches brushing her unprotected body, touching her in places usually well insulated. She was feeling very adventurous and enjoying her activity intensely.

After a few minutes, she retreated slightly in the direction from which she had come. She could see some distance through the forest, though she got only glimpses of distant objects. Suddenly she caught just a hint of something that didn't belong in the forest - something with a bright color, and moving. Her heart raced a bit - was there someone, or something, here she didn't expect?

She moved cautiously back to the area where she had left her clothes. Again she noticed the movement of colored objects. Then she stopped in horror, as she caught a fleeting view through the branches of what she had seen earlier. There were people; evidently two of them, and they were at the site where she had left her clothing. In something approaching terror, she quietly moved toward them.

When she got close enough to clearly see what was going on, she found she could also hear voices. What she saw and heard sent her into shock. Two men, dressed in bright colored shirts and darker pants, were at the tree where her clothes had been. They were removing the last of her clothes from the tree, placing them in a large bag. They were discussing what had become of the owner of the clothes, which they assumed was a woman. The men did not sound threatening, and appeared more curious than dangerous. One, appearing noticeably older, instructed the other to take the clothes back to their truck, and then return, while he looked for the woman they belonged to. From their discussion, they had considered that they might have come across a scene of foul play, and they were thinking if they should notify the police.

Peggy's heart skipped a beat. If they called the police, her little escapade was going to be discovered, and she faced giving out a public and very embarrassing explanation. The clothes could surely be traced to her; and even if she evaded the men and managed to get home without her clothes, she couldn't imagine what kind of a story she could give to explain this.

She decided on a gamble. The man remaining in the area was looking for a woman whom he suspected would be undressed. He did not look dangerous, and the snatches of conversation she had picked up did not indicate any evil intent on their part. Perhaps if she could talk to him, she might be able to get him to return her clothes and overlook the matter. It was worth a try.

Slowly she worked her way toward the man, who was scanning the area for an unclad female. Finally they both caught each other's attention, almost simultaneously. She stood behind a small bush for a shield, just as his eyes, drawn by her movements, caught her. She called out a greeting. He looked at her, surprised.

"Are you the one who left the clothes on that tree?" he asked. She responded affirmatively. She pleaded with him, saying, truthfully, "I was just walking through here for a while, and left my things on that tree. I know it seems a bit outlandish, but I was just taking a walk in-- , well, without clothes. I'd much appreciate it if you could just let me have them back."

The man moved toward her. "You'd better let me see you so I can tell if you're really the one who would fit into those clothes we found. You sure there's nothing more to this than taking a walk in the woods?" He was skeptical. "And is there anyone with you? Look, we're not trying to harm you, but this is a mite peculiar, you know." 

"Believe me", she replied, "I'm telling you the truth. And I don't have a stitch of clothes except my shoes. You don't have to see me to tell that."

"I think", he called to him, "that we need to meet and talk this over. My name's Harry, and my friend is Jim. He'll be back shortly, just went to take those clothes to our truck, where they'll be kept safely. We're not going to hurt you; we're just not into that stuff, but I think you owe usa good look at you if you want the clothes back. How about coming out here, shake hands, and let's talk a bit." 

"You promise no harm - promise you won't touch me?" Peggy asked, almost pleadingly. Harry reassured her. "We're law-abiding citizens. We not into attacking women, or mistreating them. But this is a mighty funny situation, and if you want us to help you out of it, you need to give a little. I promise you neither Jim nor I will harm you, and we won't touch you, beyond a handshake, if that's what you want. But, after all, we've apparently found an undressed woman in the woods, and a little look won't hurt any of us!" 

Reluctantly, with her hands in front of her breasts and pubic area, Peggy slipped around the bush and approached Harry. Somewhat gingerly, and blushing a deep color, extended her hand to him, exposing her breasts when she did so. "I'm Peggy", she said, "and I was really just enjoying a solo walk in the woods, whether or not you believe me! Now, please, take your look but I'd like to get my clothes back!" 

He shook her hand, smiling. Behind him, she could see Jim returning. Harry heard, too, and turned to meet him. He introduced Jim to Peggy, with a kind of casual nonchalance, seemingly oblivious of the fact that Peggy was standing in front of the two men, completely nude.

The two engaged in a bit of conversation. The two men had been returning from a work project, and were going into the woods looking for the possibility of game, anticipating a hunting trip later, when they came upon the tree hung with women's clothes. Peggy acknowledged that she, too, was coming home from work. The men really didn't seem aggressive or threatening, but were obviously enjoying looking over Peggy's naked body. 

After a few minutes, Harry proposed, "Well, it seems none of us is in a hurry, and frankly, Jim and I are enjoying this. We'll agree to get your clothes back for you, assuming they're really yours, if you'll stay with us a bit and play a bit of a game with us - we promise we won't touch you or harm you. But you are a bit of an eyeful, and there is a little something we'd like to watch."

He winked at Jim. "Peggy, both of us would like to watch a woman pee. How about you doing it for us now?" 

Peggy was a bit taken aback. That kind of display wasn't going to involve touching, but she knew she was going to have trouble doing such a private function in front of two men. Besides, it was just too embarrassing. And, she recalled, she had just done it.

Falling back on her dislike of slang, she answered, "I really don't think I could. You see - I just urinated back there. My bladder's empty now."

"Oh?" Harry replied. "Sure you're telling the truth?" She nodded, "Girl scout honor! I couldn't do it now. Come up with something else, if you have to, but I won't be able to do that for a while!"

"Well, we just might. And maybe it'll give you time to fill up so you can do it a bit later." He turned to Jim, "Jim, remember the water torture thing we read about? Like to have her give it a try?"

At first, Jim seemed hesitant. "It would be a great, but she's kinda, well, older- do you think she could do it? Any where would we get the water?"

Harry observed, "Look's to me like she has a water jug with her - probably enough for the job! And it would be interesting at least to see her try!"

Jim lit up immediately, "Let's get her to do it! I've never seen a woman do it. And she'll sure be able to pee afterward!" 

Harry turned back to Peggy. "OK, we'll believe you, for now. But we still want your company for a little while, as a condition for getting the clothes back. " He continued, "We just want you to spend a couple of hours walking in the woods with us, and letting us look at you. We'll ask you to pose in certain ways for us; nothing you won't be able to do easily. We'll agree that we won't take any photos of you, and neither of us will touch you. You won't be harmed, and we will all three just have a good walk through the trees - about what you planned to do, anyway.




Stretching Peggy's Bladder



"And, oh, there's just one other little thing. That jug of water you have - we want you to carry the water while we walk, but we don't want you to have to carry it in the jug."

"So how am I to carry it, if I can't use the jug?" she asked, a bit suspiciously.

"You have a better container to use for it", he responded.

"Such as...???"

"You." 

"Exactly what do you mean, me?" Her curiosity was peaked, and she was still suspicious.

"Your body. You can carry it inside you."

"Are you asking me to drink it? Look - there must be over three quarts in that jug! "

"Well", Harry answered, "you do have a couple of places to put it, and that's all we want you to do."

"Please make yourself clear."

"All right. You told us you hadn't eaten lunch, so you have an empty stomach. Right?" "I suppose so."

"And", Harry continued, "We asked you to pee for us, and you said you couldn't, because you had just, er, urinated. So you must have an empty bladder. Right?"

Peggy just looked a bit astonished. Harry continued, "You do have a bladder, don't you? " She nodded in silence. "Then", he went on "We'll be patient. We have time. We'll give you half an hour to drink the water. That'll give time for a bit of it to work its way out of your stomach, so you'll be able to finish the jug. Then all we want you to do is keep it in you for an hour and a half after that, while we walk. At the end of the time, we want to watch you urinate, and we think you'll be able to. In fact, it should be a good show for us. That's all - then we get you your clothes and you can dress and leave."

She pondered the proposition. "Let me see if I understand this. First, you want me to drink what's in this jug - about three quarts of water, I think; which you will give me a half hour to do. Then you want me to walk around with you, nude, doing poses you ask me to do, for an hour and a half. You promise not to touch me or photograph me, but during that hour and a half I am not to urinate. At the end of the time, you are expecting me to be able to do a big urination, which you want to watch. And then, you'll get me my clothes and I am free to leave?"

"You got it. But, understand, you're not a prisoner. You are free to leave now, as you are. We won't stop you. But you go like you are."

"Meaning nude?"

"That seems to be the way you are"

"What if I can't hold the water for an hour and a half? I think I have a strong bladder, but that's a lot of water!"

"Then we can take the clothes and leave, and you can leave, too. As you are." She got the point.

"OK, I'll agree. No touching and no pictures. I think what you really want is to make me try to hold an extremely full bladder and watch me squirm trying to do it, because if my bladder gets as full as you are expecting, it's going to be painful. You are asking me to do something that you know is going to hurt. But you don't give me much choice. I'll drink the water and play the game with you as long as you keep your word."

The two men smiled at each other. Peggy stood up, opened the cap of the water jug, and lifted it to her lips. She drank deeply. This was going to be a challenge. She seriously doubted she could hold the water for an hour and a half, but she was thinking of the alternative. Probably she could get back to the car without any clothes, but then to drove home, she would be naked. People would see her. How would she ever explain this situation to her husband, or anyone who recognized her?

The men carried on a bit of polite conversation with her as she filled her stomach with the water, pausing for little more than breath. Twenty minutes went by. She felt bloated. Very bloated. She picked up the jug, looked in it carefully. She judged that it still held at least a quart. Protesting that her stomach was at its capacity, she asked the time and took a short respite. The men were patient. She wasn't. She realized that the water would work its way through her, and if she didn't manage to get the rest of the water in her, quickly, they would delay the start of her hour and a half, forcing her to hold it longer. Finally, a minute or so before the half hour ended, she drained the last drop from the jug. She held it upside down, to demonstrate its emptiness.

Chapter 3

"OK, let start our walk. We can all use some exercise." Jim was anxious to get the show going. They started on a route through the trees. Harry kept his eyes on Peggy. "How are you feeling now? Not thirsty are you?" 

Peggy rubbed her distended stomach. She suddenly was conscious of the swaying of her breasts as she walked, and the way Jim, especially was looking at them. "I feel full - really, really, full! I'm not hungry or thirsty. And I hope both of you are enjoying this show you are making me put on! I can't walk too fast, my stomach is bulging. And I hope you aren't going to ask me to pose upside down!"

Harry considered her remarks. Shortly they stopped beside a big tree, and she was asked for her first pose. They had her lean with her back against the tree, spread her legs wide apart, and stretch her hands as far above her head as she could reach. The two men carefully viewed her frontal nudity, especially her well displayed pubic region with a its rich growth of black hair, and her breasts. They had her change the pose several times, seeking to place her breasts in different positions. On occasion, they had her hold her nipples in her hands, using them to pull her breasts as far apart as she could, and as high as she could. Eventually they tired of the game and moved on.

Actually, she felt better as the time went on. The water was emptying from her stomach, and the bloated feeling was diminishing. She feared where the water was going, but for the moment there was a pleasant relief. She still didn't feel any distention in her bladder.

Repeatedly, they had her take and hold positions designed to reveal her intimate body parts or emphasize the sag or flexibility of her breasts. She was made to let them hang as she bent over, to stretch them in various directions with her hands, and to jump up and down to produce the bouncing effect.

Of course, it wasn't very long before Peggy felt the effects of the water in her bladder. A half hour or so after drinking the water, she was aware of a desire to urinate. It was tolerable at first, but it rapidly got worse. As they had her assume various poses, Harry noted that she was placing her hand on her abdomen frequently, evidently feeling its fullness. "Now tell us how you feel," he inquired.

"How do you think?" Peggy answered. "My stomach's not swollen, but the water's going downstairs fast, and my gauge is reading full". Harry smiled at Jim.

They posed her in front of them, hands clasped behind her neck, and told her to spread her legs. She reluctantly complied. "Wider", Jim insisted. "You're trying to make me leak, aren't you?" she complained, her bladder control already strained.

The men were enjoying watching her expression of discomfort and her continual effort to hold her legs together or place her hand on her abdominal region, actions which they constantly frustrated by asking her assume different postures..

Every couple of minutes they asked her something about her feelings, making her describe her sensations. Of course, this made her even more acutely aware of them. She was glad, indeed, that she had a strong bladder. She could often make herself wait from morning to late afternoon, but this was with limited liquid intake. This time she had consumed three quarts of water. Mentally, she pondered what her real bladder capacity was - she couldn't imagine that it could hold anything like that much. She had never tried to measure her urine output, but from what she had heard and read, she thought that the human bladder could normally hold a quart if forced to. What was her body going to do with the rest of that liquid within her?

Forty five minutes left. All she could think about now was her distended, aching bladder. The discomfort was growing every minute as she clenched her muscles, forcing the organ to stretch to accommodate its increasing load of water.

"How's your bladder doing, now, Peggy? Only about forty minutes left! Do you think you can make it stretch some more?" Jim asked cheerfully. They kept her talking about her need to urinate, which at the same time they were denying her.

Thirty minutes to go. She could feel her abdomen swollen, firm to her own feel, almost up to her navel. She was keeping her sphincter muscles tightly clenched, and they were getting tired. She had the most intense desire to urinate she had ever experienced, and the feeling had now gone from great discomfort to an aching pain. She had serious doubts that she could stand this until the time was over. Again she reflected on the alternative, if she had to leave without her clothes. Desperately she ordered her muscles to retain their tight grip, restraining her forcefully complaining bladder. 

Finally, she pleaded with her tormentors, "Look, guys, I'm trying the best I can, but this is terribly painful for me! It hurts, my gosh, it hurts! And I'm not a young thing; I've got limits! I don't think I can hold it any longer! Haven't you tortured me enough? You said you wanted to see me urinate - boy, could I give you a show now, if you'll just let me! Please, let me go, and you can watch, if you'll just let me have my clothes back! Please! Please!" 

Harry and Jim smiled at each other. Her pain was real, they realized. Watching it was just what they wanted. The two men consulted among themselves. Finally, Harry spoke to Peggy. "OK, you got our sympathy. We'll offer you a deal - we'll cut fifteen minutes off the time if you'll let us both feel your bladder - we promise to be gentle. And when the time's up, and you do pee, you've got to do it standing up, with your legs apart, facing both of us."

"Deal!" Peggy responded with just a touch of relief. "You can feel me, but, please, one at a time, and don't press on it!"

Delighted, Harry motioned for Jim to go first. Cautiously, Jim reach out and placed his hand on her swelling abdomen. He could feel the growing distention, and with her bladder so greatly distended, it felt hard to the touch. He used both hands, feeling over the surface of her abdomen, touching the hardness, while Peggy struggled to control her sphincter muscles and keep her urethra from pouring out a stream.

It was Harry's turn. He, too, palpated her abdomen, commenting on the extremely hard feel of it. Peggy complained vociferously as he applied just a slight pressure. His hand slipped down, into her pubic hair; he wondered if she would complain of this. She didn't; all she wanted was for this ordeal to be over.

Finally, Harry announced, "OK - you made it! Time's up. Now stand there, put your hands behind your head, spread your legs, and you can let go! Let's see what kind of a show you can put on!"

The men stood in front of her in anticipation, as she assumed the required stance. Legs spread as wide as she could, she tried to release her sphincters, only to find that the muscles would not immediately relax. The men waited, one asking, "Well, can't you do it?" Peggy responded, "Just give me a little bit, I can't let go so fast.."

They watched, fascinated, as her spread genitals began to drip a few drops of urine. Gradually the drops became a stream, and the stream became stronger. It jetted out in front of her two to three feet, as she bent backwards just a bit; and then it became a torrent of spray, pouring out in a broad torrent, running down her legs, spraying in front of her and below her. The men watched, fascinated.

The spray continued forcefully, for what seemed to Peggy several minutes, while the men watched her, transfixed. She couldn't imagine that a woman's urination could be that interesting. Neither could she imagine that she could have held so much and kept up her urination for so long.

Finally, the stream diminished, then stopped. She held her pose, started it again for a few seconds, the let it stop finally. She looked at the two men. "Satisfied?" she asked.

Jim applauded. Both smiled. Together they indicated their approval. "I guess you've earned your clothes back" , Harry told her. He motioned to Jim, who left to retrieve them from the truck. Peggy reflected on her experience to Harry. "You really put me through torture, " she began, "but you did keep your word. You didn't touch me except right at the end, when I told you you could. I respect that, and I really ought to hate you for putting me through this, but, really, it was an adventure for me, too; and it wasn't all bad. Promise you won't give this story out?" 

"We wouldn't dare. How would we ever explain it ourselves? Both of us have families. Peggy, you were a good sport. Let's all just forget it, now." 

Shortly, Jim was back with her clothes. The two men watched as Peggy dressed herself in front of them. All three of them walked back to the edge of the forest. Peggy left them and walked to her car, unlocked it, and slid inside.

She had wanted a forest adventure. She had one. As she started the car, she knew there was just one problem left. Her bladder was full again, still receiving the rest of that jug of water. She made a decision. She wouldn't empty it now. She would wait until she got home.

She knew she could.



Stretching Pussy



Over the years a number of men with whom I have corresponded and sent my naughty photos have been interested in how I got my cunt hole permanently stretched many years ago. I decided to sit down one night a write up the whole story for one of my men.

I thought you might like to read it too. Also, in the latter part of the story you will notice some discussion about clitoral hood removal surgery. One of my photographers has been trying to get me to submit to have my clitoral hood removed surgically to increase my sensitivity and orgasm more frequently. I have been seriously considering undergoing the procedure but as of yet have not.

Why not add all of this to some of my photos, especially the ones that show my gaping cunt hole.

So, here is the story. 

*

Rich: You asked me to tell you about my permanently stretched pussy and how I got it that way. Well, here is the story.

During my years when I first became sexually active in high school and college my cunt hole was extremely tight when I had intercourse. Early on most men just thought that since I was just beginning to have intercourse that I'd loosen up over time as I had more and more penetrations to open me up. That is why they kept suggesting that I have intercourse with them trying to convince me that the more times I was penetrated the easier it would get. I gave myself to lots of men during this period but I just never did. I eventually went to a doctor who was very unsympathetic during the session and said I was just born that way as some girls are. He really didn't have any suggestions as to what I might do to alleviate this problem and basically told me that it was just something that I'd have to learn to live with. It was not a good visit to say the least.

I did keep trying and I had intercourse regularly with men during those years, but I was still a tight fit and often times it hurt when I was penetrated or the next morning when I would feel sore and achy in my crotch. That is one reason that I became so adept at deep throating men—it would allow me to satisfy the man without having to have intercourse which could often be painful for me unless the man took a long time getting me opened up prior to entering my cunt hole. Men who learned of my problem, took their time and got me loosened up and usually had no problem having intercourse with me. But men who wanted a quick entry often caused me pain and discomfort.

I guess I was just born on the small side and it was hard to take a man inside me. No matter how hard I tried—and I wanted it bad let me tell you—it still was tight and sometimes resulted in some pain afterwards. I had intercourse with many men during high school and college and I just learned to sort of tolerate the fact that I might be sore afterwards. I still enjoyed intercourse and had strong vibrant orgasm while being penetrated but was often sore afterwards.

Well a few years, and many men later, after I got out of college I started dating a guy who I really liked and eventually, one night, he got me in bed to seduce me and have intercourse. When he dropped his underpants I was unbelievably stunned—he had the most enormous cock I had ever seen—the largest man that I had ever witnessed to date. Later on I learned that he was 12"+ and thick as a piece of summer sausage and when he was erect his head was enormous too. I had seen some pretty big cocks in my many years of being sexually active but this was my first super massive cock. It was erotic to look at when he dropped his pants seeing this enormous snake hanging down between his legs. And as he got erect it was even more amazing to see his glans swell up into this huge bulbous head. I loved sucking it and learned to deep throat him easily. I loved getting on my knees as he stood in front of me and taking his massive tool into my mouth and down my throat until he ejaculated his load into my mouth. I sort of worshipped that huge cock of his with my mouth.

That first night when we had intercourse, I did manage to get him most of the way inside me but it was a struggle for sure and I was extremely sore for the next few days after our first night of intercourse.

Well we continued to date and I really liked him and one day told him how hard it was for me to take him vaginally without some discomfort. We were by now boyfriend and girlfriend—I was dating him exclusively having given up the other men that I was seeing intimately (when I met him I was dating about 3 other men and having sexual intercourse with 1 or 2 of them) and felt it was time to talk about this problem that I was having. We talked about it at length and he told me that I was not the first girl who had experienced difficulties taking him vaginally. He told me that since he was so enormous there were other girls who had had difficulty when he penetrated them vaginally during intercourse.

He then went on to tell me that he had done some detailed study of genital modification techniques that would help loosen up a tight cunt hole through dedicated stretching techniques and could help me with this problem. He had studied a number of books on genital modification and he brought them over to take a look at. I was amazed.

There were numerous genital modification techniques discussed in the books—labia stretching and elongation (which he later tried on me and I will tell you about that at another time), nipple piercing, clit hood piercing, clit hood reductions or complete removal, clit removal, labia lip piercing and internal vaginal stretching exercises and techniques to permanently open up a woman's vaginal cavity for easier access through a dedicated stretching program.

He told me that he had had two previous girlfriends who had experienced tremendous difficulty taking him vaginally and that he had put them through a pussy stretching program that permanently stretched out their cunt holes so that they had no problem whatsoever taking him vaginally. To say the least, I was intrigued. 

The pussy-stretching program was based on techniques developed by an African tribe who ritually stretched out young girls prior to ritual intercourse with the elder men in the tribe to induct these young girls into the ways of sexual intercourse. Their technique consisted of using 4"-6" long hollow bamboo tubes with ever-increasing width size to open the young girls up. The girls would start with a small bamboo tube secured in place by two cloth strips that, sort of like a diaper, covered the girl's vagina opening and then tied up around their waist to keep the bamboo tube securely up inside the vagina. The book noted that the technique took about 6 months to a year and resulted in the bones surrounding the girl's vaginas being slowly permanently opened up resulting in a wide-open vagina. The bones would slowly shift apart and fix permanently spread open.

My boyfriend had substituted the bamboo tubes for dildos starting with small ones that were worn internally for about 2 months each with an ever increasingly larger one used as the smaller one achieved the effect of opening up the vaginal hole.

We discussed this in detail—I was not certain that I wanted to do something like this---- permanently modifying my vagina and was uncertain as to the long-term effects of doing this to my body. He assured me that he had consulted a doctor who knew of these genital modification techniques and that there were no medical dangers to vaginal stretching. The vaginal muscles were not effected so the vagina was still able to offer a firm grip on a cock providing the stimulating feeling that a man likes but just that the hole was open and easily accessible resulting in less pain for girls who had this tight vagina problem.

Frankly I was getting pretty serious about him—I thought that I was falling in love with him—I so wanted to please him in any way in could and he seemed very insistent that this was something I should do to be able to more easily have intercourse with him. Pleasing my man was a top priority for me and I truly wanted to enjoy intercourse with him.

He said it would take dedication and work—most likely 6-9 months to achieve the desired effect but that if I would commit myself to the internal stretching program he could permanently modify my cunt hole. So after thinking carefully about it and talking it over with a few girlfriends I consented to take part in this program that he had developed. Since he had successfully stretched out two other girlfriends with no adverse effects I guess I felt that I could at least try it myself.

His program consisted of first using a 4" dildo for about two months and then going up in 2" increments until (4", 6", 8", 10", 12", 14") until he got to the size that he thought would have me adequately opened up for easy vaginal penetration—a 14" dildo. Each dildo that was longer was also thicker with the 14" dildo being almost 2"-3" thick.

He also had two different techniques to secure the dildo in place for me during the day. (I was to wear the dildo during the day at work) The first few sizes he secured internally in me by having me wear a pair of sheer white nylon panties one size too small (he bought me 7 pairs—one for each day to wear and he carefully washed each pair so that I had clean panties throughout the whole program) so that the panties were tight over my bottom, my waist and my cunt hole and the dildo would remain securely lodged inside me with no possibility of slipping out of me accidentally.

We had a fun ritual each morning after I had showered and was ready to get dressed for work: I'd lie on the bed with my legs spread for him and wide open and he'd insert the dildo into me. He would then slip the tight, very small nylon panties over my legs and snuggle them up tight to keep the dildo tightly inside my vagina. We made that a bit of "play time" so I would be stimulated as I went off to work with the promise that he would remove it at the end of the day when I came home from work and play with me. Sort of gave me incentive to enjoy the insertion process and I would look forward to the removal session later that night.

The routine changed after I progressed to the 10", 12" and 14" dildos, when he bought me a strap-on unit that I would wear but instead of having the dildo facing outwards as you would normally do using a strap-on, he'd have the dildo face inwards and up inside me with the strap-on securely keeping it buried internally with no need for the tight panties anymore. The only drawback for the strap on device was that it had straps around my waist and thighs to secure it to my body and it was hard to wear it with tight jeans or short shorts—the straps had a tendency to show through the material so I usually had to wear a loose-fitting skirt to hide the device during this phase of the program. Also if the skirt was too short and rode up my thighs, straps of the device might show which would be embarrassing for me if someone saw them and knew what I was wearing around outside which happened a few times to my embarrassment when it happened.

I started the program and found that it was not all that difficult to comply with following the regimen he had developed. My boyfriend was extremely attentive to the details of the program and all I had to do was be ready for insertion each morning and removal each evening. He took care of everything, which made it quite simple

After about 3 months I could already tell a vast difference and it got easier and easier for us to have pain-free intercourse. I noticed no other issues with being slowly and permanently stretched out so I consented to continue with the rest of the insertions until he had achieved the degree of openness he felt I needed.

The only other challenge we faced was that when we got to the 12" and 14" dildos, they were so large that it was hard to wear the dildo internally with the strap on device to secure it during the day without a bit of bow-legging from such an enormous dildo inside me. I looked a bit awkward walking around with something so large between my legs. You could tell that I was obviously carrying something between my legs at those sizes.

He, therefore, switched the program and had me wear the larger ones at night instead of during the day and each morning when he withdrew the dildo he try me out so we would begin the day with a rousing session of pain-free intercourse. A nice way to send me off to work sexually relieved and full of ejaculate that dripped out of my cunt hole and into my panties for the morning.

He got me all the way to the 14" dildo, which took about 11 months or so but after it was clear that the 14" was easily slid into my hole he declared that I required no further sessions and was permanently stretched.

Intercourse was a breeze and I was easily able to take him vaginally for long vigorous sessions of sex. I have to say that I was really pleased with the results and have never had a moment of regret.

The only sadness in it all was that I really liked this guy—I even thought that we might get married—and that I'd be his permanently stretched wife providing him the intimate sexual pleasure he so richly deserved until I discovered that he was having an affair on me with a college tramp. We broke up under not-so-ideal terms but I am pleased that I, at least, allowed him to put me through this program. For years the many men with whom I have had intercourse have commented how easy and open I am and how much fun it is to have intercourse with me. I am quick to be open and men can slide themselves into me for rapid intercourse. I can be taken quickly anywhere—I can just hike my mini skirt up to my waist spread my crotchless panties open and be taken right there. No penetration problems whatsoever.

Finally, on an interesting note. The doctor who I told you about who may well perform the clit hood removal surgery had to, as a part of the pre-surgery process, do a thorough physical examination of me prior to being able to make any specific recommendations about the hood removal surgery.

The examination consisted of a thorough medical and physical examination of my vaginal opening and the rest of me and, to my surprise, during the examination he asked me if I had done any sort of genital modifications of my vagina. I asked him why and he noted that I appeared to be nicely stretched open and, using a medical measuring device, he noted that I appeared to have 2"-3" spread inside my vaginal opening and that this was not usually a naturally occurring phenomenon but rather something that was achieved through modification techniques that stretched the vaginal cavity permanently.

I confessed to him that I had participated in a genital modification program conducted by an old boyfriend many many years ago and asked him what he thought and if there was any noticeable damage or problems from what had been done to me. After a thorough exam, he announced that there was no damage and that the bone movement that had occurred was done well (the shifting had occurred gradually and gently allowing them to sift into a new location with no trauma) and that I was nicely modified and he was impressed with the results. He discussed with me the reasons I had submitted to the modifications for his medical records and I explained my previous problems with intercourse with men prior to the stretching to him in detail. He carefully tape-recorded my responses for his report.

He even asked if I might submit to being photographed for his medical archives and that my face would not be shown in any of the photograph and for privacy purposes, that I'd only have a medical identification number assigned to the photo should another doctor, in the future, want to contact me to examine me for any long term effects of modifications like this that I had undergone.

I was frankly flattered to be asked to be in his medical archives and so I willingly allowed him to take numerous photos of me while I lay there on the examining table completely exposed. (I even think he did take a few of me that did show my face—he was walking all around the examining table shooting from lots of different angles and I can't help but believe he snapped a few of me totally nude my face and all for his private collection. I was wearing an examining gown but it was reversed on me with the opening in the front for the examination and he had examined my breasts too since I was there already so with the gown completely open from the complete exam that he had performed, I was fully exposed for him with the gown totally open from top to bottom from the font as I lay there for the photographs he took of me). To document my actual size, he used the measuring device in some of the photos having the nurse hold it for the photographs to capture the exact number of inches that I had been stretched open. He also used a speculum to open me up sort of like the regular vaginal examination to show that there were no internal problems from the stretching and photographed me internally as well. It was a thorough documentation of me for sure. One naughty little secret—I know that I got stimulated with all this attention and flattery and began producing internal fluids that I am sure were visible to the doctor and the nurse and will be in the photos. But as you are sure to know by now, I am an exhibitionist and being displayed like this especially for such a successful accomplishment like this was sexually stimulating and I just could not help myself. Neither of them said anything—they are professionals—but I am sure they could tell I was dripping personal fluids on the examining table.

So there you have it. My long explanation of how I got my vagina permanently stretched. I have never told anyone other then my hubby the entire story like this and it was a turn on to sit here and write all about this.

As you said we are both telling each other naughty secrets and it is fun and liberating. Not that I needed to get any of this off my chest but it is fun to relive the entire experience thinking back on how all of this happened.



Stretching the Boundaries



You have a better chance of appreciating this story if you have a large closet full of dresses that were carefully chosen to look professional and a small drawer of lace and silk originally intended for your husband alone. If you're a man who wants me to swallow a big load of cum by the second paragraph, then you'll get along with my husband; but you'll have to look elsewhere for a story. Even in my husband's stories, I never seem to get laid by another man (or women) until the bottom of the first page or the top of the second. What would you expect of a happily married, middle aged couple who barely remember the thrill of watching each other have sex with someone else's partner? My husband had encouraged me to write a story ever since he submitted "Alicia goes Gunkholing" to Literotica a little over a year ago.  His story was from the time before we became lost in the fog of respectability. I resisted writing my story until I had a fresh experience to share. Now I do. I hope you enjoy. My husband certainly did.

*****

"Don't do anything I wouldn't like to watch."

That's what he said when I had called him for advice. Some wives would have taken that statement as a warning. From Morris, it was encouragement for me to let go again.

Again. I turned the adverb around in my mind and looked at it from all angles.

I was the one who had introduced us to swinging when we were a young couple just a few years out of college. I had invited my best friend along on a sailing trip with us. Morris had always been so shy around women, but he was fantastic in bed and I knew that he had these vivid fantasies. Hannah agreed to help me open him up a bit. And we did. The older couple that we met on the other boat was an unexpected bonus that allowed us to explore a broader range of possibilities.

We had both enjoyed that time. I liked to study him while he made love to another woman. He'd get so intense. His muscles pumped up hard and his skin flushed. And then he would be so relaxed and his skin would just glisten with sweat. He was so sexy when he made love to another woman. It just made me love him even more. He said the same thing about me and he meant it.

We never went to clubs. We only had sex with a few other couples in those years. We never consciously decided to stop – but we did. Graduate school and children made it difficult to get away on vacations. And then we just gradually became too respectable. Morris kept getting promoted. I got my masters degree and became a clinical studies coordinator at the medical school. Our busy professional lives became even busier with leadership roles in the PTA and a camp for kids with diabetes. It wasn't until the kids were old enough to go to summer camp by themselves that we got away on a vacation for just the two of us. Then we started to talk. We talked about our fantasies and our memories of living out those fantasies. The talk gradually became more serious. Nothing came of it. We didn't know any swingers anymore. Even Hannah was married to a man I couldn't imagine stripping to his underwear at a party. I certainly couldn't imagine him watching Morris dive into his wife's pussy while I sucked his cock.  And then I met Steven.

I had almost lost my virginity to Steven in high school. He had gotten me down to my bra and panties, and then he fumbled with the clasp on my bra until he gave up. I didn't have the good sense to help him. We avoided each other for awhile to avoid reliving the embarrassment and then our lives went on in separate directions. I pretty much forgot about it.

Now our paths had crossed again. Although we both lived on the outer rings of Boston, we had just met the previous day at a research symposium in Toronto. He had presented a paper. I introduced myself and invited him to lunch. We quickly caught up with each other. Our lives were remarkably similar. Marriage. Kids. Careers. It took no time at all to fell comfortable with him.

He brought up our last date with a self-deprecating taunt.

"So did you have to help your husband with that chastity bra of yours?"

I laughed.

"No. By then I had taken it off so many times that I just threw it away."

"And you?" I continued. "Have you figured out all the possible combinations of clasps, buttons and zippers? You won't want to miss out on a sure thing again."

"Some are harder than others. But, if I can't free a willing woman from her clothing, my wife is usually there to help, if she's not busy with someone else."

I licked my lips nervously. He was crossing a line that I had only hinted at.

"My husband would like to meet that wife of yours."

"And would you like him to meet her?"

"I like to watch. My husband and I used to be swingers when we were younger."

"My wife and I still are."

He looked deeply into my eyes. He looked so sensuous that I would have ripped my clothes off right then and jumped him, if we hadn't been in a crowded restaurant. I had found our entry back into the swinging lifestyle, if Morris really wanted to go through with this.

"There's a great swing club for couples only outside of Toronto. You and Morris can join us. My wife, Susan, is coming tomorrow."

"Morris and I had talked about getting back into swinging, but it's just been talk. We've never been to a club. It's been years since I've even worn a thong outside our bedroom. I just can't see myself jumping on some stranger's woody – even if my husband is there."

"We could go to Illusions tonight. It's an expensive strip club, but it's worth it. Tonight is the amateur strip contest so there will be lots of wives and girlfriends in the audience. It'll loosen you up for tomorrow. Maybe you'll even get lucky!"

"I'd like to go. I really would, but let me think about it."

I tried to look calm, but I felt almost as nervous as on our last date. Maybe I had gotten lucky.

*****

I found a package waiting for me outside my room when I returned after the closing session of the conference. It was late afternoon. The connections were terrible so I had planned to stay over the night and catch the next flight in the morning. Stephen knew I was free for the evening. I had been thinking about his offer and what I would tell Morris when I called him.

I opened the package with my heart racing. I found a sheer lace and Lycra party dress in the box with a note. The note was simple. He would pick me up at 8 PM. If I was wearing this dress (under a trench coat, of course), then we would go to the strip club. If I was wearing one of my professional outfits, then we'd go to dinner. The choice was mine.

I called my husband. He wanted me to go as far as I was comfortable, and then stretch a little more. I could hear the excitement in his voice. I wanted to go, but desire is not the same as confidence. I decided to take a shower and try on Steven's gift.

The dress was incredibly sexy, but I didn't like what I saw in the mirror. My hair was naturally curly and long. That was nice. But it was streaked with grey. A good fit for a woman trying to look like a mature professional. And then there was the ever so subtle sag in the buttocks department, although the thighs were firm from the long hours on the rowing machine. And what about the wrinkles on the elbows when I held my arms out straight? I could still get my husband up, but was I sexy enough for a nightclub? And this wasn't even a nightclub. It was a high end strip club for gentleman and their paramours. 

I was about to convince myself to just give up any more fantasies of sexual adventure when it occurred to me. I was looking at the mirror all wrong. I was looking at the mirror like a woman. The eye of a woman was like a mega pixel digital camera. Every wrinkle, every sag and every grey hair were seen clearly in high def. The eye of an aroused and slightly inebriated man, on the other hand, saw an available woman after extensive Photoshop enhancement. The colors were more vivid. The textures were smoother. The image was softer and more alluring. I just needed to look at myself like a man would.

I imagined the men at the strip club and then I tried to look at myself in the mirror from a new perspective.

Nice legs! I'd like to run my fingers up those smooth thighs right into her pussy. And I can see that hairy bush of hers right through that dress. I haven't squished into a hairy muff for years. It'll feel nice with her heels digging into my back. And those nipples. I bet they'd grow to twice that size when I suck on them. Nice face, too. She must be pushing fifty, but she smiles like a virgin. No hard edges. I'd like to see those cheeks puff out when I stick my cock in her mouth. Maybe a little cum dripping off her chin. She's hot! Yea. She's a MILF alright. One hot, fucking MILF. Is she looking at me? I'm might just get lucky tonight!

MILF (Mothers I'd Like to Fuck) It's a whole genre. Morris and I had actually bought the 32nd in a series of MILF DVDs. It had gotten him more excited than it had gotten me, but it was kind of reassuring to see him jerk off to bodies that had more or less recovered after being stretched a couple of times. Now here I was a MILF.  Full breasts with a little sag and a couple of stretch marks, but otherwise in good shape. Seeing that woman in the mirror made me realize that I wanted to get fucked and that there were a lot of men out there that wanted to fuck me.

I was leaned over now with a hand thrust out to brace myself against the counter. The other hand was busy stroking between my legs. My breasts hung away from my body supported only by the lace at the top of my party dress. My bare ass stuck out where the short skirt had ridden up when I bent over. I was hot. I liked it. I stopped before I began to smell like I'd already been the main event of the evening.

I grabbed my trench coat just as the buzzer rang.

The club was all that Steven had promised it was. Spacious. Gleaming chrome and mirrors. Well dressed customers in a wide range in ages – and a fair number of women, although men were clearly in the majority. Stages jutted out into the clumps of chairs and couches. Women in various stages of undress danced to pulsating music on the stages – and sometimes on the laps of the men in booths at the far corners of the room.

You could tell the amateurs on stage. It wasn't just age or appearance. The amateurs jerked around the stage like puppets while the pro's prowled like big cats stalking. For sexual appeal, the amateurs would just grab their breasts and shake them - every few seconds it seemed. The pro's crawled up on their customers with a bag of tricks to offer – the accidental touch of a thigh, a nipple grazing a forehead, legs spread for a full frontal as they undulated from one man to the next along the edge of the stage.

I was still running hot and cold. I wanted to believe that I was as sexy as my husband thought I was, but an objective analysis of the woman in the mirror had been less than reassuring. I had been running cold at the door, and would not check my coat. I clutched at my coat but felt conspicuously overdressed – even as the arm candy for a paying male patron. Steven was very patient. He let me take my time to get comfortable in the unfamiliar surroundings. I was grateful for that.

After we had found a comfortable couch and ordered drinks, we were approached by one of the dancers. She was gorgeous in a short dress of bright purple mesh that hid nothing. Her face and frame were thin and delicate. She had full but natural breasts. Her skin was the deep brown of a women with grandparents from the southern tip of India. She introduced herself as Reema. She obviously knew Steven.

"You must be Alicia. Steven called this afternoon to say that you might be coming. He said you would probably be nervous. I'm so glad you decided to come anyway. Susan is going to love you. Are you bi?"

That's not actually how the conversation unfolded, but it seemed like that. I was still in a tight little shell and Reema was trying to help me get out. Reema was open, witty, direct and talkative, but not in an offensive way. The chatter was surprising calming. I began to warm and my coat just naturally slipped off. Steven took my coat back to check-in while I got to know Reema better. 

I had never met a stripper before so I did not know what to expect. I would never have guessed the next turn in the conversation. 

"I read the papers from your group. Interesting research. My thesis advisor and I are trying to get portable defibrillators to ignore movement artifact so compressions don't need to be interrupted for pattern recognition."

"What are you working here for? You could get a graduate teaching position with those skills."

As soon as the words left my mouth, I regretted them. Reema was direct but diplomatic.

"Because the money is good, and I can't wear an outfit like this in the lab – and I wouldn't want to."

She turned around and bent over with the pretense of adjusting the strap on her high heels. Her short dress rode up over her trim little ass. I felt myself getting aroused at the sight of her shaved pussy and puckered little asshole.

"You're right. A woman ought to be able to wear an outfit like this once in a while. And then I spread my knees wide apart to flash her a view of my pussy."  

"I'm really am glad you came. You have too nice a body to keep hidden in a bedroom. And it looks like I'm not the only one with that opinion."

She turned her head to a group of men, who were looking at us. Both of us. I caught the eye of one of them, who smiled back at me. I looked away. When I looked back, he was still staring at me. In a strip club, strangers don't have to look away when you catch them checking you out. I could feel my nipples puffing up. I was beginning to feel like a MILF and I enjoyed the feeling.

Steven had returned by this time and was happy to see that I was warming to the experience. Reema took him by the hand and looked at me.

"Come on. Let's show Alicia how to lap dance."

I followed along, looking around me and fascinated with what I saw. Men sat motionless with their hands by their sides as dancers wearing only a thong ground into freshly stained slacks bulging with cock. Other men sat at the edge of the stage nursing overpriced beer and looking up entranced by the bare flesh gyrating for their amusement. A few women –the only real amateurs - sat in the audience with their keyed up boyfriends fidgeting before their turn on the stage.

We passed a well-dressed bouncer before entering a hallway of closely spaced doors, each one leading to a single couch and a stool with a towel and condom laid out neatly. Prostitution was illegal but tolerated if kept quietly out of sight. Escort services were listed openly in the tourist brochures, but the services only eluded to sex with language that a lawyer could argue was simply an advertisement for men who wanted to talk sports to women over dinner. The sounds coming from the rooms were not about sports, unless you consider sex a sport.

Steven sat on the couch. Reema stood in front of him looking incredibly sexy with her ankles far apart and her dress pulled up to her waist. I leaned up against a wall to one side and watched with increasing fascination as my date for the evening was seduced by a beautiful young woman who knew both math and lap dancing.

The music from the club was piped into the private cubicles. Reema began to sway seductively before Steven. She touched him as if by accident and then each touch became more deliberate. She peeled her top down to let her large breasts swing freely. Steven sucked on the nipples but still kept his hands at his side by some unspoken agreement that the dancers were always in charge. By the end of the first piece, Reema stood naked while Stephen had his shirt opened to the waist. Reema climbed onto the couch and pushed her pussy into Steven's face. Her body continued to move with the music as Steven licked whatever part she let touch him. Steven was no longer rigid in his seat. His hands ran along the back of her thighs and over the flesh of her ass cheeks. He pulled her cheeks apart for me. I could see the delicate skin around her asshole glistening with secretions released only with sexual arousal. I drank in the erotic scents as our passions filled the confined space. My husband would have licked her where those scents originated, but I held myself firmly against the wall even as my finger found my wet slit and slipped in.

Reema was kneeling on the floor now with Steven's pants around his ankles. She rolled the condom over his stiff shaft and stuffed his cock in her mouth. Her movements were still in time to the music as she twisted around his shaft. Her cheeks bulged out as his cock explored her sensuous mouth. They were so deliciously beautiful. Her skin was as dark as his was light, except for his cock, which by now was a bright cherry red. She slowly moved up his body until her dark pussy was dripping just over his bright red tool, then she buried the shaft inside her in one quick movement. His cock slowly reappeared with a coating of white froth. Her pussy remained stretched open for the instant that she came off his shaft. I could see the bright red flesh inside her that so perfectly matched the color of the cock being swallowed inside her once more.

If Steven and I had stayed at the hotel, I would have already had him squirt his cum inside me at least once and we would probably be snuggled together like spoons waiting for sleep to overtake us. Instead, I had yet to touch my partner of the evening sexually and was watching entranced as he was being fucked professionally. The scene before me increased my desire for that cock. I was so wound up that I felt I could get fucked continuously for the rest of the night and still want more hard cock inside me.

By now, they were no longer moving in time to the music. Reema moaned uncontrollably. Their bodies stiffened and shook. I could see the fluid pulsing through Steven's cock. The room was perfectly still for a moment. Then Reema stood up as the softening cock slid from her dark pussy. She reached down, pulled the distended bag of semen from the wilted shaft and deftly tossed it into the waiting receptacle. She handed Steven the towel.  

Reema turned to me.

"15 minutes. You've got to get them off within 15 minutes and make it seem like an hour if you're going to work here. They'll knock on the door if you don't."

I smiled at her. I may have wished that I could be her for an evening, but I had no intension of applying for a part-time job on weekends. Maybe I would try the dance contest while Steven recovered. He was sexually spent and not much use to me for the moment.

Reema spoke again.

"It's about time for you to dance."

Something had woken up in me and I wanted to show what I had to the world, even for a roomful of strangers. The firmness of my resolve surprised me. 

"I'm ready."

She took me backstage. We got through the usual registration formalities. There were a few rules unique to a strip club contest. I promised not to stick anything in my vagina while performing onstage and so forth. I was already dressed for the occasion so there was only a minimum of last minute primping. I went over the songs that would be playing while I performed and then it was my turn.

I did not have the moves of a professional dancer, but I was not going to make the mistakes of the other amateurs. Surely I could do something more creative than juggling my boobs for the entire 8 minutes of my set. I formed a plan. I would draw attention to myself for the first half without anything overtly sexual and then I would give them as raunchy a show as I could manage without actually having sex onstage.

I started with yoga. I know what you are thinking. But imagine this. A nearly nude woman standing on one leg holding the other ankle behind her back while bending forward. Now picture that woman with her legs spread apart reaching down to touch the floor with her palms and slowing reaching up to stretch. She turns 90 degrees and does it again until each of the four corners of the room has a chance to see her bare pussy with her ass cheeks pulled apart naturally by her movements. Nothing explicitly sexual.  Just balance, flexibility and graceful movements. Steven said later that I had the serene expression of a Zen master in meditation but that the juice leaking down my leg gave away my advanced state of arousal.




Stretching the Boundaries



When the music got faster, I threw off what little clothing remained and rolled over onto my back to face my first customer. He was a burly guy surrounded by his raucous drinking buddies. He could have been my plumber, but it was my crack that was showing. I froze him to his seat with a stare, then I put first one leg and then the other on his shoulders so that he was looking right into my dripping pussy. I pointed to the garter belt only inches from his face. He stuffed a bill in to the approval of the crowd. I didn't recognize the denomination of the currency, but it didn't matter. I was now a professional.

I rolled over onto my knees for the next customer and pushed my nipples up to his lips. He kissed one before I leaned back just out of reach and pointed to the bill in my garter belt. He stuffed another one in beside the first and I turned to the next man. He was ready for me with a bill in his teeth. I got on my hands and knees to back up into his face. He was only inches from my pussy and asshole when he slipped his bill under the elastic band that I held open for him. If he had whipped out his cock, I would have let him fuck me right there on the stage. 

Some jobs are more exciting than others. I was beginning to understand why Reema preferred being a stripper part time to a graduate teaching assistant full time. 

Each man was getting bolder than the last. I was getting lots of bills stuffed under my garter and some just thrown on the stage, but I was also getting perilously close to the line that would get me thrown out of the club. Fortunately, the set ended and Reema came to my rescue. We picked up the bills and wiped up the slick secretions that I had dripped on the stage.

I rushed up to Stephen with a wad of money in my hand and more in the ruffled elastic band on my leg. He helped me smooth out the dress that I had barely thrown on backstage.

I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him. I told him that I wanted him to take me back to the hotel right that instant and fuck me. He just smiled. I was so hot for cock that I would have jumped on the next one I saw.

That's when Reema took me by the elbow.

"Your first customer is waiting for you."

She flashed me a broad smile. The wink she gave Steven confirmed my suspicions of a conspiracy.

"Trust Reema." He said. "She'll find you someone nice."

All my reason said stop but my desire was overwhelming. That's when Morris' comment came back to me.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't like to watch."

Would Morris want me to fuck a stranger in a high class strip club? The answer was easy. I followed Reema to the private area.

He was only a little older than I was. He was bald except for a little rim of hair starting just above his ears. He looked to be in relatively good shape, but he still had a bit of a pot belly on him. He was attractive in his own way, but I didn't even know his name and there was money laying on the table for me. I didn't have to do this, certainly not for the money. He had a kind face. Reema would be waiting outside the door, which was reassuring. I decided to follow my desires and go for it.

I had learned a lot from watching Reema earlier in the evening. Fifteen minutes should feel like an hour, but they'll knock anyway. The club has to keep the rooms open for the next customers. Reema knocked just as he shot his load into the condom I remembered to put on him. He slowly eased his cock out of my pussy. I looked down at him and kissed the top of his smooth head gently. My chest was still flushed from my orgasm. A real live orgasm. Not many pro's do that for their customers. He thanked me and said I was the best he'd had at this club. I took it as the complement that it was.

I wouldn't be satisfied until I'd gotten Steven's cock inside me, but there was more business to do before we could leave. Part of the money was turned over to the management for overhead. The results of the contests were announced and the prizes awarded. The winner of the grand prize was a stunning blond in her 20's who could actually dance. I would have voted for her. I won a runner-up prize of some sort and was proud of it. I wanted to show it to Morris, as soon as I could figure out how to tell him what I'd done to win it.

What was left of the night was spent in Steven's room. I don't recall all of the details, but it was not like at home. Morris and I had settled into a tennis match approach to sex. One of us took the initiative to serve and then we volleyed back and forth from the baseline until we both scored. Each of us knew the other's favorite strokes. Steven was new to me so his moves were unpredictable. I don't remember who had the most orgasms – I wasn't counting – but we were both exhausted toward the end and fell into a deep sleep wrapped together in a ball of nude flesh.

*****

My eyes snapped open. The curtains were drawn apart. The room was flooded with light. The sun had been up for hours while we slept off the effects of the previous night's partying. But it was not the light that woke me. The full weight of Steven's body lay on top of me, forcing my breasts flat against the mattress and pushing my face into the pillow. He had shoved my knees apart so he could thrust his cock into the body that lay pinned beneath him. The head of his cock had caught on the narrow strip of flesh between my asshole and my vagina. He could get into neither of the two openings. He pushed with even greater force. The pain clamped my pussy and asshole shut even tighter.

I could have stopped it all with a single word. He was an alpha male intent on raw sex, but he was still a friend who would observe the usual social conventions. In short, he would have stopped if I had said "no." 

Why would I want him to stop? If I could have only one form of sex, it would be gentle and loving with plenty of foreplay and snuggling. But I had enjoyed last night. All those anonymous men wanted to throw me down and fuck me, but they remained frozen to their seats leaking cum stains on their slacks just for the privilege of having me taunt them and the occasional touch of a bare thigh, ass cheek or nipple. Was I exploited? Hell No! I was woman. Hear me roar.

Now it was Steven's turn to dominate. His cock hurt me, but it was an exquisite agony like an intense orgasm that I wanted more of – not less.

He pulled back for an instant to attempt another penetration. I wanted him inside me, but not in my ass. Not this morning. Not without lubricant and a condom. In the instant that he pulled back, I slipped a hand over my asshole and deflected his next thrust into my pussy. He pushed in roughly. I growled partly in protest and partly in encouragement. I was his lioness. I clamped my pelvic muscles around his shaft like a lioness bites the long, slender neck of a gazelle. My lion roared and thrust in deeper but was unable to extract himself from the vise-like grip of my pussy. He flipped my long hair up and bit into my exposed neck. I could feel the sting as he placed first one mark and then another and another. I grunted and writhed but he had me firmly pinned under the superior weight of his sweating muscles. I twisted my head from side to side and flailed my limbs helplessly.

He pressed his hands into the muscles of my back to lift up his torso. With long firm strokes, he began to piston his shaft into my now wet pussy. My whole body shook each time he slapped up against my ass cheeks. The angle of entry and the force of his stroke torqued my love tunnel in ways that I had not experienced previously. I could not last much longer without screaming, but I didn't want him to let up.  His strokes had reached as deeply into me as it was possible to go. In and out blurred into one continuous motion as he became overcome with frenzy. Maybe 50 strokes. Maybe a hundred. It was all over in a couple of minutes, but the orgasms were as intense as if we had built up to this all day. He squirted inside me until it came bubbling out around his cock. I encouraged him with filthy language and squeals of obvious delight.

When he was done, he kissed me lightly on the neck where a minute earlier he had been leaving his marks for my husband to find. Then he got up and disappeared into the shower while I dozed off again with cum leaking from my love crack.

When I awoke the second time, I was in the room alone. Stephen must have gone to run an errand. Breakfast, I hoped. I got up to take a shower before he returned.

The naked woman that looked back at me from the mirror was different from the women I had seen the night before. That woman wore an outrageously sexy dress, but was still unsure of herself. The woman I saw now had the same firm thighs, the same ample but slightly sagging breasts and the same gentle smile. But this morning, that woman had the glint of lust rekindled in her eyes. She wanted her husband, of course, but she wanted more than just the feel of his cock riding her doggy style. She wanted him to watch as she wrapped her tongue around two cocks dripping with cum. She wanted to see him fulfill his anal fantasies with a woman who really enjoyed it – and if that woman still had her pussy stuffed full of her regular partner's cock – well, so much the better.

Oh, it would all be so delicious.

*****

I left a wet towel on the tile floor of the bathroom and emerged naked in a cloud of steam. I had expected to find Steven having returned from his errand, but I not expected the tableau that greeted me. Steven was on the bed as I had expected. A naked couple sat on the couch. The man was my husband. I had never met the woman, but she must have been Steven's wife, Susan. 

She had obviously become familiar with my husband in the past few hours, because his cock was only half erect as she curled her slender fingers around his shaft. She was just the type he fantasized about: long legs and tiny breasts with almost translucent white skin. I thought she was attractive, but I preferred women like Reema with large breasts and dark skin. Not that looks are that important. Everyone's attractive who's friendly, and she was definitely being very friendly with my Morris.

I slipped onto the bed beside Steven without a word being spoken. He laid his hand casually between my thighs.

"We thought we'd join you at a swing club tonight, if that's okay with you." My husband had spoken first.

"That would be nice." I answered him, but looked at Susan. She smiled. I imagined her screaming as my husband penetrated her. The image was comforting to me. I shivered ever so slightly. She smiled again knowingly.

"Did you have a good time at the gentleman's club?" Her voice was gentle and reassuring. I took a liking to her right away. It was always more fun watching my husband have sex with a woman that I found compatible.

"It was an interesting experience," I replied, without revealing anything of substance.

"Steven sent me a picture of you at the club with his cell phone." Susan continued. "I forwarded the picture to your husband with a short introduction and assured him that Steven would have sex with you before the night was over."

I laughed. "A woman I've never met knows me better than I know myself." 

"I know the look." She continued. "You can't wear an expression like that and make it through the evening without sucking cock."

I shrugged.

"Your husband must have seen it too. Anyway, he accepted my proposition so we booked the last flight and took a room down the hall."

"You both must be exhausted." My tone was sympathetic. I knew that the last flight arrived well after midnight. I had not intended the double meaning until the words had left my mouth.

"You have no idea how exhausted we got." Susan smiled suggestively, while pressing her breasts into Morris' bare chest and kissing him warmly. The meaning of the embrace was clear. No matter how many times they had gotten off last night, it was still not enough for today.

We all laughed. A potentially awkward situation, even for experienced swingers, was quickly becoming comfortable. 

"Did you enjoy dancing for a crowd?" It was my husband who spoke this time.

"That was one of the interesting experiences."

I was suddenly a bit nervous again. Up until he spoke, I had thought of it as dancing. It wasn't. I was a stripper. How was I going to tell him that more men than I could count had gotten close enough to smell my pussy while shoving small bills into my garter. And then there was the back room. I was so fucking hot that I would have paid him, but money had changed hands and I was the richer for the transaction. So what did that make me?

"I hear you've gone pro." He flashed a wicked grin that conveyed both knowledge and approval.

"Semi-pro," I replied. "A pro wouldn't blush." I could feel my cheeks flush as pink as my still swollen pussy.

Morris laughed. We were stretching the boundaries again - and off to a good start.