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Ann's Awakening

By: Calandria



Ann had been married five years. Not long, but long enough for it all to have become a bit routine, especially as she suspected Trevor of having a little bit on the side. The worst of it was, her heart's desire couldn't be realised – she had been told she could never have children, and Trevor didn't want to adopt one, so her life was bleak, to say the least of it. Her mother didn't help, telling her all the time to 'snap out of it,' and enjoy what she had, that sort of thing.

The one thing that stopped Ann from going insane was her job. She got to meet people there, and had friends at the office who she could count on.

'Look at you,' said her unmarried friend Tina one lunchtime in the office canteen, 'what are you? Twenty-eight, twenty nine?'

'Twenty-nine,' said Ann, 'why?'

'You mope around like the world's coming to an end. You've got a gorgeous body, face isn't bad either, and what do you do with it?'

'Tina, I'm a married woman,' she looked at her friend, and then laughed, 'but you're right, I do feel sorry for myself, and I know I shouldn't.'

'Look, Ann, tell you what,' said Tina, 'talk to that husband of yours, and tell him you're going to have a girls' night out, at least once a week – he won't mind, in fact it'll free him up to do what he wants now and again – as if he doesn't already!' The last bit she added with a meaningful look on her pretty face.

At supper the next evening Ann broached the subject to Trevor, who scarcely bothered to look up from the sports pages, 'Oh yes, dear,' he said, 'no problem.'

Thus released, Ann went upstairs, quietly stripped off and took a look at herself in the mirror, trying to check out the veracity off her friend's observations. It was true, her body was still firm, and she actually enjoyed looking at herself. She was narrow-waisted with long, slender legs and a nice rounded bum. She had never liked her breasts, thinking them too small, but they were still firm, with large dark aureola and nipples which hardened instantly to her touch. Slipping on a robe, she looked critically at her face, thinking that she would soon be seeing a few premature wrinkles, but she had a nice smile, and she resolved to do something about her black hair, which had grown a bit uneven. Next morning she made a lunchtime appointment with the beauty salon, and had the full treatment. When she got back to the office, Tina took one look at the finished job and knew that she had had a word with Trevor. Her hair glowed and was beautifully layered, her nails were suddenly half-an-inch longer than they had ever been, and something had happened to her eyelashes. The men in the office kept doing double-takes for the rest of the day.

Tina told her she would come and collect her in her car the following night, if that was OK, and she nodded her assent. 'But what shall I wear?' she asked.

'Not much,' said Tina, enigmatically, but aside from the fact that she was taking her to somewhere called the Silk Traders' Club, she would say no more.

Ann could hardly wait for the next evening to come around, and tried on twenty outfits before selecting something for the outing. She reasoned that any club or disco would be warm, so that she would wear, as Tina suggested, not very much. After rejecting a number of things, she plumped for a cotton sundress she had bought the previous summer in Ibiza. It was halter-necked, which meant she could wear no bra with it, but her firm breasts didn't really need support anyway. The dress was mid-thigh length, so all she wore under it were a pair of white silk panties. She thought a pair of high-heeled sandals completed her ensemble nicely, but when she went downstairs as she heard Tina's car draw up, Trevor was standing by the door.

'You going out like that?' he asked.

'Yes, why?' she replied defiantly.

'Catch your death of cold,' was all he said, and closed the door behind her.

Up yours too, she thought, as she got into Tina's car.

When they arrived at the club, in the better end of town, there were a lot of very high-value cars parked there, and a uniformed doorman greeted Tina like an old friend. Serious-looking bouncers were on duty, and some even more serious-looking money was entering as they did.

When they got into the cloakroom, and checked in their jackets, Ann saw that Tina was dressed in a silk miniskirt and a fishnet blouse, with no bra, so that her breasts could be clearly seen, their tips actually poking through the mesh of the garment.

'My God!' exclaimed Ann, 'you said not to wear much, but......wow!'

'It's that sort of place,' said Tina, 'you'll see.'

When they got into the big ballroom, Ann saw what her friend meant. Mainly young women were dancing, virtually all of them in extremely revealing outfits – everywhere there were very short skirts, transparent tops, backless dresses, skin-tight catsuits, dresses with cut-outs in various places – it was clearly a place to compete with all the other girls. And the 'prizes' were some very well-heeled-looking men – and good-looking buggers too, as I remarked to my friend.

They sat at the bar and ordered drinks, and were soon asked to dance, by a couple of hunks. Ann's held her close, and didn't seem at all shy in helping himself to a liberal feel of her bum, but then he seemed to lose interest, and, when the music changed, thanked her politely and returned her to her bar-stool. Tina stood nearby, still chatting to the man she had danced with, and they were exchanging cards. When Tina put his card in her purse, and climbed onto her stool, she gave Ann a brief glimpse that startled her as if she had struck her. She was not only naked under her skirt, but clean-shaven too.

'Hey, you forgot your underwear,' she said to her friend.

'You better believe it,' said Tina, 'the guys here like that kind of thing. There's something you should know, Ann. This club is known as the top exhibitionists' spot in the North. I brought you here to show you what I like – I'm honest about it. Not everybody here joins in, but it can get wild later on.'

'I'm surprised the police let it carry on,' said Ann.

'Oh, the bouncers don't let anything get too obvious, and besides, there's a lot of money around, as you can see,' replied Tina.

Ann sat taking in what she had been told, and decided she liked the atmosphere – it might even be just what she had been missing, but she felt frumpy in her cotton sundress, and said so to her friend.

'Just go take your panties off – you'd be surprised how much better you'll feel.'

'I....I couldn't.' She had never gone anywhere without them in her adult life.

'Of course you can.'

She slid off her stool, went quickly off to the Ladies and slipped her little silk panties into her purse before she had time to change her mind. On the way back, she was sure everyone was looking at her, and had to check that her skirt covered her thighs decorously when she sat down.

But Tina had other ideas, and quickly hooked up the hem while nobody was looking in their direction. She said, 'Christ, it's like the fucking Matto Grosso up there. You'll have to take a razor to that lot, girl, or nobody will be able to find their way through.'

'You're so fucking crude,' laughed Ann, but Tina's point was made – she just didn't know how to get around to the subject with her husband.

Ann was more a spectator than anything for the rest of the evening, but did get asked for a couple of dances, one of them a fast one, when she was in mortal dread of whirling around so fast that her skirt rose up, revealing her hairy quim. She suspected that Tina could easily have gone off with at least one of her partners during the dancing, but out of respect for her friend, they simply exchanged telephone numbers, and the two girls left together at about one o'clock.

'Well,' asked Tina, as she dropped Ann off at home, ' are we on again, or what?'

'Sure,' said Ann, 'but only if you'll come shopping with me on Saturday.'

'OK, it's a deal,' she agreed, grinning.

Trevor was already in bed, snoring peacefully, when Ann got in, and she was relieved about that. She lay awake for a time, thinking that more than the odd evening was about to change for her. The club, and her friend's revelation, had opened up a new and exciting range of possibilities to her – probably pointed out to her what her true inclinations might be.

Trevor always went to work first in the morning, and Ann took a good half hour longer to get ready. Next morning, she spent an age in front of the mirror, then took the scissors to her pubic thatch, trimming it down to a neat little patch. 'That can go later,' she thought to herself, then started going through her clothes, tut-tutting to herself all the time. She really didn't have anything that fitted how she now wanted to see herself - more importantly, how she wanted to display herself. She managed to find a half-bra that she had bought to go under something or other some time ago, and cinching it on, discovered that she could persuade her nipples to peep out just above the fabric. Under a thin silk blouse, this might be just the thing for the office. A pleated plaid miniskirt went well with it, coming down to mid-thigh, and she just wondered if she dared go without panties all day at the office. She rehearsed situations which might occur – taking dictation, sitting in on meetings and so forth, and decided to give it a go. She felt really good when she put on a pair of stilettos and went out to catch the bus, drawing more than a few glances on her journey to the office.

Tina noticed immediately the change in her friend, and remarked upon it: 'I hope I haven't fucked with your life, Ann?'

'Tina, if you have, it was because it needed fucking with, darling. I feel reborn.'

Saturday came, and Trevor seemed completely without interest when Ann announced she was going shopping. Not for the first time, she wondered if he had another woman.

She met Tina in town – parking being nigh-impossible – and they set about their spree. Ann had already decided to throw out more than half her clothes, and now set about punishing her credit cards in a serious way. The first underwear she bought took the form of two cruel-looking corsets, which Tina approved so much that she bought one too. They were harshly whale-boned, to cinch the waist in tightly, and incorporated a push up bra, which would leave the nipples free. At the hem, they left the buttocks bare, and had long garter-straps. Then she bought two skimpy satin garter-belts and several pairs of stockings to go with them. She pondered over open-crotch panties and tights, but Tina thought they were a bit passé. 

Next she turned her attention to dresses and skirts, and chose several which had the two girls giggling in the changing booths. Ann had always looked elegant in evening wear, and was sensational in a backless grey silk dress, which finally zapped her credit limit on one of her cards. It left enough on one of the others for a pair of shoes, she said.

'But you've already got lots of nice shoes,' said Tina, 'I've seen them. Come on, I've got a better idea.'

'Where are we going now?' asked Ann, 'my feet are killing me.'

'It's not your feet you've got to worry about,' said Tina, and steered her up a dingy back street.

'TATTOOS AND PIERCING' said the handwritten sign above the window.

'Oh no, you don't,' said Ann.

'I will if you will,' said Tina.

'But where?' asked Ann, rolling her eyes.

'Where do you think? Come on.' 

Before she could protest further, Tina had dragged her into the shop, where a much-pierced young woman with orange hair was reading a magazine.

'Reluctant, is she?' said the girl, 'well nobody's going to force you, dear.'

She drew back a curtain, and a young guy appeared, dressed in a white lab-coat.

'You're alright, everything's properly sterilised, you know,' he said, 'what is it you want, girls, nipple rings, tongue, navel, clit hood, labia?'

Ann was rendered speechless, but Tina calmly said, 'Clit hood for now – and could I have a look at some rings?'

Wide-eyed, Anne watched as Tina chose a silver ring about a centimetre in diameter, then casually got up on to a chair such as she had so recently sat upon at the hospital, with stirrups for her legs.

The guy masked what he was doing with his body, but he had Orange-hair fetch him a tray of instruments, then Ann heard her friend call out very briefly, 'Oh!' and he turned away from her, saying, 'there, done! No sex for a couple of days, perhaps.'

Orange-hair turned to Ann, 'You too, dear?'

Ann was being swept along now, and wasn't sure she liked it. 'I....I don't know.' She looked a question at Tina, 'Did it hurt?' 

'Only for a moment – quite exciting really,' said Tina.

'OK then,' she heard herself say, thinking, 'what the fuck will Trevor say?' then 'who gives a flying fuck?'

She got up on the chair, and the young guy, who was quite dishy really, said, ' Same ring?'

'Why not,' she said, and he confirmed it to Orange hair. She returned with the tray, at which Ann tried not to look. It was bad enough sitting with your legs apart, no panties on, in front of a complete stranger, who is going to mess with your pussy. She felt his touch as he lifted her clitoris hood, and inspected it closely, his face close enough to have licked her, and she found herself getting wet in spite of the fear she felt. Then she felt him again, touching her, his fingers surprisingly gentle, then the new sensation, the sharp, hard jab of cold metal as her flesh was penetrated, and she heard herself cry out involuntarily. It wasn't entirely in pain. 

'There, done,' he said, and she looked down to see that she was now sporting a lovely little silver ring at the top of her pussy, like a sentinel.

She paid for them both, and they left in silence. 

'Phew,' said Ann, when they got outside, 'I damn near came there, and now I'm sore, but I suppose it'll pass.'

'They say so, yes,' agreed Tina.

Ann spent the rest of the way home wondering what she was going to say to Trevor, but he was still at the football when she got home, and went straight out for a drink with some mates from work afterwards. She sat and pondered on their marriage. Sex had not only become routine and unexciting, it had become very infrequent in the last year, and she just wondered if it were her fault. 

'No sex for a few days,' the man had said, but there were ways and means, and Trevor used to love a good blow job. She resolved to try something, and went up to the bathroom, stripped off and had a long hot shower. Then she carefully lathered the remains of her pubic hair, and very carefully took off every last vestige of it, inspecting herself from every possible angle. She thought it looked lovely, and again admired her new silver ring, lewdly dangling there at the very peak of her pussy.

She brushed out her hair to a silken sheen, and hung a heavy silver chain around her narrow waist, the slipped into a totally transparent long black nightdress. She stepped into a pair of stiletto-heeled mules, and then went downstairs, lit candles, put a bottle of champagne on ice. She put on some music and waited for her husband to come home.

She knew she wouldn't have long to wait, as he was always home for 'Match of the Day.' Her anticipation heightened when she heard his car drive into the garage, and more so as she heard him come through the kitchen. Then he clattered into the room, followed by two mates. They were all clearly half-pissed.

'What's up love? You not feeling well? Any beer in the fucking house, is there? Gary, have a shufti in the fridge. Jason, put the telly on, we're missing the bleeding match.'

Ann ran up the stairs and shut herself in the bedroom.

For the first time, she began to wonder whether their marriage had a future, and, if not, where did that leave her? She locked the bedroom door, not caring what Trevor did that night – or any other, at that moment – and went to bed.

Next day, Sunday, while Trevor was still sleeping it off, she picked up the car-keys from the place he always left them, on the kitchen table, and drove the short distance to Tina's, where she immediately broke down in tears and blurted out the whole story to her friend. Tina was sympathetic, as ever, and held her as her sobs died away, then suggested they go for a quiet lunch in the country.

The rest of the day passed quietly enough, and Ann kept her mobile switched off. She didn't want any rows with Trevor, at least not yet.

Hardly a word had passed between Ann and Trevor when their paths crossed the night before, but he managed to say good morning to her on the Monday, and she prepared to start another week's work. She felt strangely excited by what she thought of as her rebirth, and getting on the bus in a new dress, a simple button-through silky one, with the hem just above knee-height, she felt extremely sexy and desirable. The sensation of the silky material against her naked mound was making her juices start to flow, and she so sensed that her nipples were hardening, that she couldn't resist a downward glance, to see if they were visible, poking at her dress. Before the bus reached her stop, she even worried a little that she would be in danger of having a damp patch on the seat of her dress, if she went on like this.

At the office, she felt herself the centre of attention for much of the day, and the boss wanted her to take dictation several times more than seemed normal – or was it her imagination? During the afternoon, she thought she would try going a little step further, and instantly started to tremble with nerves at the idea. Her boss, the son of the Managing Director, whose name was Justin Price, called her in again, for his regular afternoon session. He normally stood by the window of his palatial office, whilst she sat in a leather armchair and took shorthand.

She knocked and went in, and there he was, smiling, stood, as ever, looking out at the traffic far below. He turned to her, as she sat down, 'Hello, Ann,' he said, 'not a lot today, just a couple of quick letters to the boring bastards we have to deal with, eh?'

He wasn't normally this chatty, and it made her relax, as she had determined to do. Her nerves disappeared, and she smiled in what she hoped was a mildly sexy manner, and wriggled back a little in the luxury of the soft leather, letting her skirt ride up her long legs, to the lace-tops of the white hold-up stockings she wore. 

He started the letter, and she crossed her legs as he did so, noting that his eyes were firmly on her shapely knees. She was really enjoying this, and knew the effect it was having, when his dictation faltered, and he said, 'No, I didn't mean that at all – let's begin that one again, shall we?'

She dropped her pencil off the arm of the chair, and leaned right over to pick it up. The action momentarily exposed a little of her upper thigh, above the stockings. Justin Price was almost speechless for a moment, but somehow got through his dictation session.

The next day, Ann went with Tina at lunchtime to a shoe shop, where Tina was interested in buying a pair of boots. Tina hung around waiting for a good-looking male assistant, and finally managed to catch the eye of a lad, who must have been a student, with long blond hair and deep blue eyes. The girls sat together on a bench while the boy went off, and eventually came back with a pair of spike-heeled boots.

'Sexy,' he said.

'Cheeky,' said Tina, offering her his foot as he knelt in front of her. 

He eased off her shoe, and put on the soft leather boot, zipping it up to her knee, then smoothing it up her leg with his hand, obviously enjoying the feel of her slim leg. She responded, by first glancing around her to see that nobody was close by but me, then surreptitiously hitching up her miniskirt and parting her legs just enough so that he was looking right at her naked, shaven pussy.


Ann's Awakening Ch. 02



Ann's life had changed, and it had changed for the better. She had no sense of being a 'kept woman' even though Victor had provided her with her apartment. She paid him rent, and continued in her job – it was just that he took her out, and understood her urge to show her body off, to wear provocative clothing, and he wasn't jealous.

Finding the right clothes to suit her new persona was not always easy. She didn't have much trouble with her tops. Although tight blouses and jumpers showed off her prominent nipples to good effect, and she sometimes wore them, she much preferred loose, soft items, like silk blouses, which allowed her smallish, pointed breasts to jiggle when she walked. If she chose pale, plain colours, and light, translucent materials, so much the better.

Skirts were more problematical. She liked to wear flared silk or pleated cotton miniskirts, but they were not always practical, and were too revealing, even for Ann, and could be construed as indecent, in working environments, so she often settled for a simple full skirt, just above knee-length, which gave her a nice sense of freedom, allowing the breeze to waft around her shaven pussy, reminding her of her naked vulnerability, which she could heighten by inserting a pair of Chinese balls into her hungry vagina, keeping her 'on the edge' all day. Lately, she had experimented with a small-size rubber butt-plug, which she had had some difficulty in pushing into her tiny arsehole, even with the help of liberal quantities of lubricant. It hadn't been a great success, as she had not been able to keep the plug in place for very long, but Victor had suggested a different model, as he was eager to have her anus available to him, so she thought she would extend the experiment.

Ann's awakening had extended in another direction too. She had become interested in the concept of restraint. It wasn't, strictly speaking, an exhibitionist tendency, she knew, but the truth was that the tight skirts she had had to make herself were so form-fitting that they left nothing to the imagination, and nothing could be worn under them at all.

For day-wear, she made two skirts which were just below knee-length, so tight that she could only walk in tiny little paces, the effect increased by dint of the teetering needle heels she always wore. For evenings, she hobbled her legs in a sheath of silk, whilst her breasts were unfettered in the loose tops she wore. Victor had other ideas, and had given her a pair of tiny gold nipple clamps, which she had yet to try out. She had decided to save them for a special occasion.

Living in the apartment she rented from her lover pleased Ann so much that she asked him if she could extend her lease, and he readily agreed, then suggested they throw a sort of house-warming party to celebrate. 

'That would be nice,' said Ann, 'but the flat is too small, surely?'

'Oh, we'll have it at my house,' he said, 'and we should call it a pyjama party.'

'But I don't have any pyjamas,' she protested.

'I know, so let's call it a nightdress and pyjama party.'

'That sounds better.'

They advertised it amongst friends, and at the Silk Traders' Club, where they had met, and Ann got her friend Tina to help get food and drinks organised well in advance. After giving it some thought, she even invited one or two people from work, including her boss, Justin, who she knew had the hots for her, and had an inkling of her taste in clothing. To all invitees, they made the 'dress code' for the evening clear.

When the evening came around, Ann spent a long time preparing herself, and when she walked into Victor's study, to find him sat in a pair of elegant silk paisley pyjamas, he was stunned at the sight of her.

'If I were anyone else, I would say that you can't possibly go to a party dressed like that,' he said, as she posed for him under the overhead light.

She wore a long shimmering silver transparent nylon nightgown, with spaghetti straps, deeply cut away between her breasts and at the back, and tied at the waist with a silver ribbon, the ends of which hung down behind her. Her feet were in silver high-heeled mules, and through the nightgown's material could be seen a heavy silver chain she had draped around her slim waist. Less obvious was a more delicate chain she raised her skirt to show Victor, that she had clipped to her clit ring at one end, and her waist chain at the other. Anyone looking closely enough at her would be able to see it through the gown.

'God, you look fantastic, Ann,' said Victor, and massaging her breasts through the gown would certainly have led to a pre-party fuck, had not the door-bell rang there and then.

It was Tina, with a long black cape wrapped around her like a vampiress in an old movie. When she stepped into the study, at Victor's invitation, she whisked off the cape in a dramatic gesture and was left wearing scarlet nylon baby doll pyjamas with a fur trim at the neckline and hem, which was at waist-level. The tiny matching panties were as sheer as the top and were tied with ribbons at the hips. She wore four-inch heeled stilettos, and heaps of jewellery.

'Wow,' said Victor, 'you look great Tina, too. If all the girls look like you two, I'm not going to be able to move from the chair in these pyjamas.'

Ann ran her hand down his trouser-front and found the reason. His pyjamas had a big slit at the front, and he wore nothing underneath – he had taken the pyjama-party idea seriously!

Asif and Lisa turned up soon, Asif, slim and dark in short pyjamas, and Lisa in a long, flowing black silk nightgown, completely backless, which contrasted beautifully with her extravagantly long blonde hair.

'Who the fuck are they?' asked Tina, who had never met Lisa and Asif before. When Ann told her, she whistled and said, 'I'm going to have to go to bed with the both of them before I'm much older!'

'From what I know of them,' said Ann, 'I doubt you'll have much of a problem!'

Soon, guests were rolling up, clad in fur coats and wraps, which they left on the tables in the entrance hall, as they entered the well-heated and spacious lounge, where they had music playing.

All the women were in nightgowns, mostly transparent or flimsy silk affairs, whilst the men wore silk pyjamas. It made for very interesting dancing! 

Ann was just starting to enjoy herself, dancing with a variety of hunky men, when in walked her boss, Justin Price – she hadn't really expected him to appear. He was clad in loose silk pyjamas, and held the hand of a lady who was, presumably, his wife. Ann had never seen her before. She had rich auburn, shoulder-length hair, and wore a very classy looking peach-coloured long nightgown, which might have been Janet Reger. Ann and Victor greeted them at the door, and Victor made sure they were supplied with drinks, but Justin's eyes were for no one else but Ann, and, as a slow number had just been put on the sound system by Tina (by accident or design) he asked her to dance, while Victor led his wife, Sarah, into the crush on the floor. 

Instantly, Justin's hand went to Ann's near-naked buttocks, and as he pressed her to him, she felt the entire length of his rampant shaft thrusting against her belly.

'You're a naughty boy, aren't you, Mr Price?' she said.

'I'd very much like to be,' he replied, and she wriggled against him, the points of her breasts rubbing his chest, as he nibbled the lobe of her ear.

Tina, in charge of lighting now too, turned the lights down really low, as the highly inappropriate 'Three Times a Lady' played, and Ann risked reaching down through the slit in his pyjamas, and briefly running her palm around the crown of Justin's torrid erection.

'Oh no,' he moaned, 'do that once more, and I'll cum, right here!'

She desisted, and, peering through the darkness, saw that Victor was sat with his arm around the shoulders of Sarah on a sofa beside the dance floor, deep in conversation.

When the music changed to another slow number, she saw that Tina was now dancing with Asif, and, as they passed close by, she noticed with a shock that Tina's panties were now missing. Then she saw the red ribbon trailing from the top pocket of Asif's pyjama jacket.

'You cow!' she mouthed to her friend, who smiled back knowingly.

When, as she disentangled herself from Justin after the dance had finished, she looked around for Lisa, she saw her sitting on a couch at the back of the room, holding hands with a tall black girl in a white negligee, who must have come from the Silk Traders' Club, because Ann didn't recognise her. Curious, she watched them out of the corner of her eye for a minute, and the black girl leaned across and kissed Lisa, long and tenderly, stroking her long blonde hair, while Lisa's hand sought the black girl's breasts through the thin nylon of her garment.

Ann's reverie was suddenly interrupted by Victor. 'Pretty sight, they make, don't they?'

'Yes,' she replied.

'I've been talking to your boss's wife.'

'I know, what's she like?'

'She's OK, but inhibited. She's seen the effect you have on her husband, and wants you to help her. Will you?'

'Of course, but on one condition.'

'What's that?'

'That you fuck me, now!'

'Then I have a condition of my own.'

'Oh yes, and what's that?'

'Come on, you'll see!'

He went over. Leading her by the hand, first to Tina, to ask her to keep things going, then to Sarah to tell her that she had agreed to help her, and then he led her up the wide staircase, several pairs of eyes following them as they went, knowing full well what was their mission.

When they got into the privacy of Victor's bedroom, he flipped the lock.

'Now what's the condition?' Ann demanded.

'On your knees!' he told her, and she knew what his condition was. It was what they had both wanted for so long. Maybe she was ready for it – she wasn't sure. Her cunt was wet through, with the excitement of wearing the nightgown and showing off her body all night, the dancing with so many men, the feel of Justin's hardness against her. She had worn a butt-plug several times, so it wasn't as though her arsehole was completely virgin, and yet.....

Ann felt the fear of anticipation, as she knelt in front of his couch, her breasts cushioned on the soft upholstery, and he gently eased her legs apart, then threw her nightgown up over her waist, and trailed his hand the length of her soaking slit, toying for a moment with the ring in her clit hood, and then teasing her clitoris to erection, before poking two fingers easily into the steaming hot depths of her cunt.

His fingers traced her slit again, this time running up towards her arsehole, finding the puckered entrance. He rammed a finger deep within, and she knew something approaching total ecstasy, but was also aware that she should have to endure terrible pain when his thick cock penetrated her.

Two fingers, then three, worked their way into her, and tears flowed from her eyes as he violated Ann's tender arsehole, passing her sphincter with the aid of lubricant.

'You're ready, darling!' he told her, and, before she could protest, he was kneeling behind her, his knob forcing its unstoppable way into her virgin anus. Ann screamed with pain as he passed her sphincter, and knew the real meaning of passion for the first time in her life when a tremendous orgasm welled up and sent her to heaven. She came again and again, screaming, calling him names she should never recall, as he drove his great rod into her, tearing her, hurting her, she didn't care. Then she felt him stiffen and knew the joyous warmth as his hot load shot up into her bowels.

'Oh, Victor,' she said, 'why did we wait so long?'

The next day was Saturday – just as well, as she needed a couple of days to rest her sore arsehole, and cleaning the house up was no easy task either.

On Monday, almost as soon as she got to work, Justin called her to his office.

He sat behind his big desk, in sports coat and striped tie, and Ann came in, in her usual pleated skirt and silk blouse. They must have looked like just about anyone's idea of boss and secretary.

'Hi, Ann,' he said, 'my wife says you're going to help her.'

'If that's what she wants,' she said.

He looked at her in a strange way, and said, 'Look, Ann, can we forget our dance the other night? I mean, I fancy you like mad, as you know, but there are things you mustn't do on your own doorstep, as you know, and I think the world of Sarah.'

'OK, said Ann, 'I understand. How can I help? With your wife, I mean.'

He looked relieved. 'Right, here's what I want you to do. Take the day off work tomorrow, and spend it with her. She wants you to help her get a new wardrobe, will you do that?'

'Delighted,' said Ann, and left, clutching directions to Justin's home.

Next day was warm and sunny, so as Ann didn't have to go into the office, she decided on a pleated mid-thigh maroon cotton miniskirt, with a loose printed silk blouse. She wore a satin garter-belt and long white lace-top stockings, cinched to the straps, and metal-heeled stilettos.

When the Sikh taxi-driver opened the car door for her, she caught him admiring her legs, so she deliberately gave him a brief glimpse of naked pussy as she swung her into the seat. He gulped, and she saw him desperately trying to see her in his rear-view mirror during the short trip across town. She tipped him well.

Ann arrived at Justin's neat town-house at around ten to find Sarah waiting for her, dressed in jeans and tee-shirt.

'Would you like a coffee first?' she asked.

'That would be nice,' agreed Ann – anything to set the obviously nervous Sarah at ease.

As Sarah got the coffee, Ann sneaked a good look at her. She was not really pretty, but had strong, even striking, features, with huge almond eyes, and an aristocratic set to her face, She had a good body, with a slender waist and long, slim legs.

'Justin said you'd help me choose some clothes which would – er...do something for him,' she said.

'Of course,' said Ann, 'but it's a much a matter of attitude, Sarah.'

'How do you mean?'

'You've got to be prepared to show yourself, at your best. Are you?'

'I......I don't know.'

'Look,' said Ann, 'there's just the two of us. This is what I mean.' She lifted the hem of her skirt just enough so that Sarah could see her shaven mound, and further accentuated the act by running a finger lazily up her thigh, just to the very start of her naked slit.

Sarah's mouth dropped open, and her big eyes grew bigger still.

'Oh my God,' she said, 'you go into my husband's office like that! I ought to throw you out of the house, but..........but, well....he's so open about it, and so are you, Ann. I can't help but admire you. Let me go and think for a few minutes, will you!' 

She stood abruptly and walked out of the room. Ann was left wondering what was going on in Sarah's mind.

In a few minute's, however, she was back, smiling.

'I've had a good talk to myself, Ann,' she said, 'and it's not just that I want to keep my husband. In fact, I'm not even sure I do, between ourselves, as I have independent means, but I loved the scene at your party, and talking to your Victor.......' She let the sentence hang, then she continued, 'so, tell me what I have to do!'

'First,' said Ann, 'get out of those jeans. Let's see you in something more revealing, and then we'll have a look at what you have, and what we need to go and buy. How's that?'

'Come on upstairs, then,' she said, 'you can have a look at my wardrobe.'

As they had quite a large house and no kids, Sarah had her own dressing room, and Ann admired the big, mirrored wardrobes, as Sarah slipped off her jeans and tee-shirt. She stood, looking a bit awkward, in a pink bra and matching panties. Ann looked pointedly at her, and she nervously reached behind her and unclipped her bra, shrugging the straps from her shoulders. Her breasts were firm and nicely formed, with well-centred pink nipples.

'Don't be shy!' said Ann, and Sarah hooked her thumbs under the waistband of her panties and eased them off over her nicely-rounded buttocks, letting them fall to the floor, where she stepped out of them. She was naked but for her bedroom slippers.

'Well?' she asked, 'what do you think?'

'I think you've got a lovely body,' said Ann, 'and you ought to enjoy showing it off, but just one thing.'

'What's that?'

'We ought to do something about this!' Ann reached out and touched Sarah's bush of pubic hair, which grew in a dense forest all around her mound and in long wisps right up between her legs.

'Oooh!' she said, but meekly allowed herself to be led to the bathroom.

Ann sat Sarah down on a plastic stool, and rummaged around in the bathroom cabinet until she found scissors, shaving cream and two plastic razors, then she ran a bowl of hot water and set to work.

First of all, she used the scissors to clip away the majority of the hair from the whole of Sarah's pubes, getting her to open her legs and working her way right around to her arse. Then she lathered the whole area thoroughly and set about shaving every last vestige off hair from, firstly, her mound, then around her labia, then right up her crack to her arsehole, taking care to ensure that not a single hair remained.

'Now you must make sure that you keep shaving every two or three days, or it will itch, and stubble will grow,' she said, as she anointed the whole area liberally with aloe vera lotion. As she smeared the lotion around sarah's labia, she let her fingers linger a moment, teasing her, drawing a little involuntary 'Oh!' from Sarah's lips.

'What does it feel like, Sarah?' asked Ann, as the other woman stood up and walked about naked.

'Funny,' she said, 'kind of.......well, naked!'

'Wait until you are dressed,' said Ann, 'you'll feel lovely!'

It was time to inspect Sarah's wardrobe, and Ann prepared to be critical. She asked Ann if she was really serious about what she was doing, and Sarah replied that she was. However, having a quick look at the vast array of clothing that Sarah had in her wardrobes, Ann told her that she was proposing simply to put aside the things of which she didn't approve in one wardrobe, keeping the other two for things she considered 'appropriate' to Sarah's new lifestyle. She would do the same, she said, for her underwear drawers.

Into the third wardrobe went all Sarah's trousers and trouser-suits, evening dresses which Ann considered too boring, and many skirts which were, in Ann's view, 'neither one thing nor the other.' She was left with very few clothes in the other 'appropriate' department, and the third wardrobe was full to bursting.

When she attacked the underwear drawers, all panties were discarded immediately, and all but one or two bras were similarly tossed out. The ones that survived did so because they were 'platform' models, leaving the nipples entirely free. Ann found two garter-belts and some nice stockings, and kept these.

She turned her attention to shoes, and threw out all but three pairs, two of which Sarah said she'd bought for weddings, and one pair she said she'd forgotten she had. They were all stilettos, with at least three inch heels. Ann didn't like them very much, but decided they'd do at a pinch.

'Right,' she said, to Sarah, 'let's get ready and go shopping – perhaps have a bite of lunch out. It's a nice day; a shame to waste it, eh?'

Sarah agreed, and Ann laid some clothes out for her. It didn't take long. 

'But.....but – I can't go out in just those!' said Sarah, waving at the skirt and blouse Ann had laid on the back of the chair.

'What do you think I'm wearing?' asked Ann.

Doubtfully, Sarah slipped on the cream silk blouse, and stepped into the blue cotton skirt, which was about four inches above knee-length. When she tucked the blouse into the waistband, Ann stood back to have a look at her. 




Ann's Awakening Ch. 02



'What do you feel like?' she asked.

'Funny. Naked,' said Sarah, 'I can't go out like this!'

'Yes you can,' said Ann, 'you have no idea how attractive it is to men when your breasts jiggle all the time, and your nipples poke through like that.' She touched the point of Sarah's breast through the silk. It was hardened by grazing against the thin material, and probably by the arousal of her forthcoming exposure.

'And you are wearing stockings,' said Sarah, 'I think I'd like to put some on as well.'

Ann nodded, and dug out a little satin garter belt and a new pair of patterned black stockings. When she finally had Sarah dressed, she told her to try walking about in stilettos, which she hadn't worn in years. 

Ann looked a question at her, and Sarah grinned uncertainly back.

'I feel very odd,' she said, 'sort of completely naked down here,' – she patted her pubes with her hand – 'and as if everybody is going to be looking at me.'

Ann smiled at her, 'I think we'll attract a few looks, yes, and we're going to do the sexiest thing known to mankind.'

'What's that?' said Sarah, in alarm.

'Buy shoes!' said Ann. 

As they left the house, Sarah reached for Ann's hand, and said shyly, 'Ann, can I tell you something?'

'Of course.'

'I liked it when you......when you touched me!' She looked ashamed to admit it.

Ann squeezed her hand in encouragement. 

'Your husband wants to avoid me, because he doesn't want to mix business and pleasure,' she said, 'but that doesn't stop us....'

Sarah interrupted, 'He said that, did he? What a lamb! I almost wouldn't mind if he did, now that we're friends, Ann.'

They were at the bus stop now, and a bus was just drawing up. They boarded, and there were very few seats spare, so Ann and Sarah had to sit at opposite sides of the aisle.

Sarah kept glancing in a conspiratorial way at Ann, who smiled back at her as they made the short journey into town, and she caught several male eyes following them as they headed for the big commercial centre. Ann knew that her walk, in four-inch metal-heeled stilettos, was very sexy, and that any breath of breeze would reveal a glimpse of the lacy tops of her white stockings under her short skirt. Looking at Sarah, she was aware that her heels were not really doing her any favours, so suggested that their first stop should be a shoe shop that she liked. 

The store they went to had young male assistants, forever changing – it was the one her friend Tina had taken Ann to a few weeks ago at the start of her 'new life.' 

They sat on an upholstered bench, and Ann told a dark-skinned Asian guy that her friend wanted to try some sandals with very high heels.

'I'll bring you some to try,' he said, casting a little look back over his shoulder at the two of them as he went to the store. Ann was well aware that she was displaying a good percentage of her leg-length, and smiled, her eyes deliberately hooded. 

Sarah dug Ann in the ribs before the assistant came back, but Ann merely chuckled, and said, 'Got to make the guys remember you, dear!'

Then he was back, with a bundle of shoes. He had seen Ann's shoes, and knew what she wanted for her friend. He had brought various strappy stilettos, all with needle heels, some with platform soles as well. 

When he knelt on the carpet in front of her, Sarah yielded her foot up into his hand, and let him take off her very ordinary high-heeled shoe, replacing it with a shoe with a four inch needle heel and a platform sole.

'Yes, ' she said, 'can I try the other one?'

He went away and fetched the other one of the pair, and, when she had them on, she walked about a little, tottering just a shade with the unaccustomed height.

'They're lovely,' said Ann. 

Sarah agreed to take them, and then Ann suggested she also buy a pair of boots.

The assistant went away again, having been told to fetch some good leather thigh-high boots.

Again Sarah gave her stockinged foot to the young guy, and he eased the supple leather up her leg, past her knee. As he did so, she eased her buttocks a shade on the couch, so that the young guy got a distinct glimpse of her stocking-tops, the white flesh above, and, almost certainly, her hairless pussy. He fumbled with the zip, indicating that he had, indeed, had an eyeful.

Before she finally bought the boots, Sarah had reduced the assistant to a gibbering wreck – it was her first experience of showing off her pussy.

After the shoe-shop, Ann took Sarah to buy some skirts. She had good legs, and Ann decided she needed some miniskirts, either flared or pleated, though not necessarily too short. 

It was time for lunch, and they went to a wine bar, where again they gained quite a lot of admiring glances.

During their meal, Ann asked Sarah, straight out, if she liked restraint.

At first she looked shocked. 'Isn't that like bondage?' she said.

'In a way,' replied Ann, 'but look at her.' She pointed to a middle-aged woman walking up to the bar in a very tight skirt, which virtually hobbled her about the knees.

'Now why would she wear a skirt that tight?'

'Fashion?'

'Pull the other one,' said Ann, 'it's restraint she wants.'

Ann went on to tell Sarah that she sometimes wore very tight corsets, and skirts so tight she could scarcely walk, especially for evening wear. Sarah said she found it very new and exciting, and that she'd give it some thought.

In the afternoon, they went to various shops, bought Sarah three transparent tops, a fishnet cat-suit she fell in love with, another two pairs of shoes, two lovely evening gowns and some sexy jewellery. They finished off at a lingerie store, where Ann talked her into buying a black satin corset, as well as some stockings.

Ann was about to set off home, but Sarah wouldn't hear of it.

'You must come and have dinner with us!' she said, and wouldn't take no for an answer, so they took a taxi back to her home, where Justin had just arrived from work. 

'Hello, girls,' he said, kissing his wife, and giving Ann a brief peck as they dumped all their bags.

'What have you been buying then?' he asked.

'Wouldn't you like to know!' said Sarah, following him into thee kitchen, leaving Ann standing in the lounge.

'Wow,' she heard Justin cry out, 'wowee!'

They emerged, the two of them, and Justin said to Ann, 'Would you like to shave me as well?'

'Justin!' yelled Sarah, and bashed him with a cushion. 'For that, you can take us both out for dinner.'

'But I can't go like this,' said Ann.

'We'll stop by your place on the way,' said Justin.

Sarah put on one of her new evening gowns, with Ann's help. It was a very expensive creation in shimmering gold material, with a halter neck, completely backless, open right down to the start of the crack between her buttocks. She wore her new needle-heeled stilettos, and pendant ear-rings so long they grazed her shoulders.

When the stopped off at Ann's flat, she chose a long black transparent tube dress, under which she had to wear a pair of black lace panties, tied at the sides with black ribbons. Her breasts, however, were entirely visible, and after she had rouged her nipples, they jutted out at the thin black material, just asking to be caressed. She cinched a heavy silver chain around her waist and stepped into silver stilettos.

'Oh my God!' said Justin, when he saw her.

They went to a nice restaurant near the edge of town, and the meal was a very high quality one.

When they relaxed over coffees, Sarah told Justin about their day's shopping, and, as Ann heard her talking about her feelings at going without panties, she suddenly felt a hand on her thigh, inching its way upwards. She was inclined to reject any advance from Justin, and put her hand under the tablecloth to push him gently away, only to make a remarkable discovery. Two hands were involved! Sarah's hand was holding her husband's wrist, impelling his hand up her thigh!

Ann looked at Sarah's earnest face, and saw her slightly parted lips. Then she ran her tongue, unmistakeably, out between her teeth, just for a nano-second. Ann felt the hand creep up, ever up, until it nestled between her legs, a finger probing into her crack, pushing the layers of thin material with it, as she responded by letting her legs drift slightly apart. She switched her gaze to Justin, and saw that he was breathing a little more rapidly.

'I think we'd better go,' he said suddenly, and summoned the waiter. Ann wondered why he had decided they had to go, at that precise moment.

In Justin's car on the way back to their home, Sarah sat in the back with her arm around Ann, but no one spoke a word. 

When they got there, she had a surprise awaiting her. Victor's Mercedes was standing on the driveway, and he was stood beside it, smiling. Justin had obviously arranged for him to meet them. 

Justin unlocked the door and they went in. Victor whispered to Ann and she went into the downstairs toilet. When she emerged, she had divested herself of the panties, and was naked under the transparent dress.

Sarah had put a CD on, slow, sensuous music, and she and Ann started to do an impromptu dance, writhing around together, all the day's excitement encapsulated in the moment. The men sat in the armchairs, enjoying the spectacle, knowing their respective desires would very soon be satiated,

Ann reached down and clutched the hem of her dress, easing it up her long legs, slowly past her hips, revealing her naked pussy, the ring in her clit hood, which she flicked proudly with a finger as she opened her legs slightly. As she turned her arsse towards the watching men, she spread her buttocks lewdly with both hands, showing them her newly-invaded, dilated arsehole, and emphasised it by fleetingly inserting a forefinger. She knew that she needed a prick in there – and soon. In one quick movement now, she whipped the dress over her head, and was naked in front of them, and helping Sarah undo the clasp at the back of her neck.

When this was open, her dress simply fell to the floor in a whisper of soft material, leaving Sarah standing naked in her teetering stilettos. Ann caressed her new friend's body, drawing a little moan from her lips as she worked a hand through her moist crack, finding the little nub of her clitoris. Then she took her hand and led her quite firmly towards Victor.

Victor was sat, fascinated by the novice, and reached up to run his hand up the inside of her thighs as Ann led her to him. Sarah gasped, and Ann, leant down, unzipped Victor's trousers, and took out his already erect penis. She knew him well enough to know he would be ass hard as a rock, and also that he would be wearing no underpants. Sarah's eyes widened when she saw how huge he was in Ann's hand, but Ann guided her down, down, to straddle her man, with legs wide apart, and soon his mighty weapon was stretching her cunt to its limit, as he gently forced his way into her and she settled on him with a tremendous sigh, gripping his entire length within the silken sheath of her vagina. Before she began to ride him, she rested a moment, and allowed herself to savour the joy of having this massive tool within her body, and then she squirmed a little from side to side to allow her cunt muscles to really get some purchase before she began to thrust up and down, up and down, groaning and saying things to him she would never recall, as she felt one orgasm after another build, take her by storm, then start to come at her again. He kneaded her breasts, rubbed her clit, reached behind her and fingered her virgin arsehole, did all the things she had never had done to her – she was in heaven!

All good things come to an end, and Victor couldn't go on for ever. She saw his eyes cloud over and felt him quicken and stiffen as he thrust hard to meet her final great heave, and he came in one violent spurt of hot creamy spunk, deep within her.

Ann meanwhile had turned her attention to Justin, who was nowhere near as big as Victor, but equally eager, and had wanted Ann's body for months. He pulled her to the sofa, and first lapped her soaking cunt hungrily, driving his tongue deep within her warm, inviting fuckhole.

She pulled him away by his hair, needed his cock inside her, and groaned with relief as he entered her, drove into her. She had to prevent him from cumming there and then by grasping the base of his tool hard, and using all her experience.

He controlled himself with a huge effort as she climaxed, and she showed him what she wanted him to do next, pulling him out of her and directing his crown to the portals of her anus. He got the message and slid into her velvet passage, its peristalsis transporting him to untold regions of pleasure, as she was carried off into a thunderous orgasm. He could hold off no longer, and shot his load into her bowels with a triumphant shout.

He thought: you can't mix business with pleasure, no – but this was pure pleasure!

And Ann lay there just reflecting that she had perhaps brought a bit of joy into two more lives, at least. 



Ann's Awakening (The Second Letter)



This letter originally appeared in Buxom Beauties magazine on June 9, 1997:

Sweet readers,

It has been exactly one year since the good editors of this magazine published a letter written by my sexy girlfriend and fellow "research partner", Courtney. Since that time, the publishers have reported to us that they have received a flood of letters from horny hotties and handsome hunks wanting to know more about me, Courtney and our outrageous academic explorations. Well, we aim to please! To help satisfy the lusty longings and orgasmic urges of the randy readership, Miss Alexander and I appear in the six-page pictorial entitled "Ann's Office Hours" on pages 13-19 of the current edition. My darling assistant and I are sure that the naughty photos spread out over those pages will give you an up close and intimate portrait of our campus life. What happens when an impertinent freshman carelessly walks in to her professor's office while her teacher and office assistant are "busy working"? You will need to turn to page 13 to see for yourself. But let me just say that the big-chested beauty receives a "good licking" for her mistake. [grin]

In addition to setting up this hot photo shoot, the perverted publishers of Buxom Beauties also wanted to know if I, Ann Fellini, might compose a titillating article telling of how I first got started with my racy research. Many readers, it seems, were especially curious as to how a big-boobed blonde like myself came to become so enraptured by erotic lingerie and so fascinated by lesbian fantasies. Needless to say, being the slovenly slut that I am, I quickly consented to bare my soul. (After all, I had already bared every inch of my body for their camera already!!!) So, eager readers, allow me to share with you all the delectable details of my bawdy beginnings. Truthfully, I have been wanting for some time to find the right forum in which I could get this tale "off my chest" (and, like my own ample chest, there is quite a lot to this torrid tale!) So, lay back and relax, slip your hand down inside your skivvies, and let me take you all back to the beginning...

* * * * *

The summer after I graduated high school I stayed with my Aunt Genevieve for three months. Being the adventurous type, I had decided to venture "out of state" for college. The curriculum at T.I.T., the Texas Institute of Technology, was challenging and it seemed well worth going the extra distance to attend there. Fortunately, as luck would have it, Aunt Gen (my mother's sister) lived only about a half an hour away from the university that I was to attend. Aunt Gen was the youngest of the family. At twenty-five, she was thirteen years younger than my mother. To me she had always seemed more like a cool older sister than an aunt. She was tall and slender with fetching eyes and bewitching blonde curls of hair. Since I was also a blonde and fairly tall as well, some looking at us occasionally mistook Gen to be my twin, so close was the family resemblance.

Gen was still single, with a nice, well-paying job and a huge apartment. Graciously, she had invited me to come and live with her for a while as I made the transition from high school to college life. That way, she told my parents, I could get to know the area around the college and not have to worry about paying rent. She even knew of a summer job I could apply for at a local mall. It sounded like a fantastic opportunity in every respect. So I packed my bags several months early and off I went. I felt like an explorer, setting off on a journey to discover uncharted new territory! Little did I know just how exciting, eye-opening, and life-changing my discoveries were to be...

I moved into Aunt G's apartment in early June and soon got settled into a routine. During the weekdays I worked at "Bella Chica", a trendy junior's clothing store at the Galleria Mall. On most Saturdays, Gen Gen (as I came to call her lovingly) would take me on excursions around the T.I.T. campus neighborhood. Together, we would browse around the shops and eat lunch at cozy cafés close to the university. I felt like I was really becoming familiar with the campus. It was incredible! On Sunday afternoons, Gen and I would lounge around the big pool that her apartment complex maintained, laying out in our bikinis for hours, just talking and tanning. 

Often, during those times out by the pool, I found myself glancing over at Gen Gen's cute butt and admiring her tight body. She was so sexy looking! Given her callipygian curves, I couldn't figure out for the life of me why she didn't have a steady boyfriend yet, or a whole group of suitors for that matter. Indeed, she hardly ever went out on a date with a guy during our first month together. Occasionally, after dinner on the weekdays, she would go out to a local club, called Sappho, with two of her close lady friends, Tiffany and Becca. But it seemed to me that that was about the extent of her social life. 'Oh well', I found myself thinking, 'Gen's got a busy life between work and hosting me. She's probably just putting her love life on hold for a while so that we can spend more time together.'

As the summer wore on, though, I started noticing something else curious about my Aunt Gen. Every week or so, she would bring home a package from the post office. She was always beaming and grinning widely on the days when they came. I noted, with interest, that the parcels always had the same return address: They were from someone called "You Know Who" in a town called Promiscuity, Oklahoma. (A colorful name to say the least! But then again, I had heard that there was a town in Pennsylvania called Climax!) I never asked Gen what was in her packages because I respected her privacy. Gen never once brought them up in conversation with me, and she was usually pretty open with me about everything. So I figured that whatever was in them must be something pretty personal. 'Perhaps', I thought to myself the day the third package arrived in late June, 'She does have a guy friend out of state and he's sending her tokens of his love and devotion.' I smiled wistfully at the romantic notion of Gen's "secret admirer" and their interstate correspondence.

All of my well-reasoned theories about the contents of my aunt's mystery packages were thrown out the window, though, one fateful Friday evening in early July. It was the evening before Independence Day. Gen had told me earlier in the week that she was going to be going out to the club with her girlfriend, Becca, and that they planned to be out late. Knowing that Gen would be gone that night and not wanting to spend a boring night watching TV by myself, I had arranged to have a "night out" as well. I had met a friendly girl named Jasmine at "Bella Chica" and my co-worker had kindly invited me to see a play called "Summer Surprise" at the T.I.T. auditorium with her. The show wouldn't be getting over until late and Jasmine's house was real close to the campus. So my friend had suggested that - if I wanted to - we could go back to her house and I could bunk out there for the night. I agreed excitedly, and - after telling Gen all about my plans for Friday night - began to get ready for my big night out. 

Some of the best laid plans in life sometimes never materialize, though, and events take an unexpected twist. Such was the case on this momentous Friday night. I came home after work to find a note on the kitchen table from Aunt Gen. 'HAVE A GREAT TIME AT THE THEATRE TONIGHT, LOVE!!!' the message read, 'I'LL SEE YOU IN THE MORNING! TOMORROW WE'LL HAVE A FABULOUS FOURTH!' I smiled and, sliding out of my skirt and top from work, started to head toward the bathroom to shower and doll myself up for my 'date' with my friend. As I headed toward the bathroom, suddenly the phone rang. It was Jasmine. She was calling with bad news. One of her younger brothers had broken his leg and had been taken to the hospital. So she wouldn't be able to go to the theatre as we had planned. As Jasmine talked and apologized, my heart sank. I was sad for her brother and bummed out that I wouldn't be able to go out with my friend. But we agreed that we would try to reschedule our theatrical excursion for another time and then I hung up. 

Now that my 'big night out' had become a 'lonely night in' again, I looked toward the bathroom door. I decided to forgo my shower since I wouldn't be going out after all. I supposed that I would just "veg out" on the couch and watch a video or something to pass the time until my aunt got back later. I looked over at my rumpled blouse and skirt lying in a heap on the floor. I didn't want to put them on again, and I didn't really want to wear the nice outfit that I had picked out just for my night on the town. This put me in a dilemma, though, as most of my other outfits were dirty and crumpled up in the laundry bin. Then I remembered how Aunt Gen had always been saying that, if I was ever in a pinch, I could feel free to wear any of her things that might fit me. So I headed toward her bedroom to see what I could find.

And boy did I ever make a find! Several of them as a matter of fact! Lying on the floor on the far side on Gen's four poster bed, was a new package that had apparently just arrived earlier that day. It had been opened and had been slid partially - but not completely - underneath the big bed. Glancing down at it, as I headed toward Gen's closet to look for clothes, I could see that it - just like all of the other packages - had an Oklahoma return address. I hesitated for a minute, tempted to peer inside of it and see what might be contained within. What had he sent her this time? Was there a love letter from 'him'? Surely. But what else? A delicate gold necklace, perhaps? A sweet, satiny chemise for her to model for him? Or maybe a plane ticket to fly to California for a secret weekend rendezvous? My mind raced with curiosity, pondering the possibilities.

Fighting off my temptations, though, I moved resolutely toward Gen Gen's closet and opened it up. Hanging to the left of a large selection of negligees and pretty peignoirs (Wow! She had a lot of lingerie!), there were several outfits that I remembered having seen Gen wear to work. But they all looked far too nice for my laid back night at home. I needed something simpler. Glancing down, I noticed there was a long dresser stretching across the bottom of the walk-in closet. I opened up the middle drawer of it, expecting to find some casual tops or shorts. Instead, though, I seemed to have accidentally found Gen's underwear drawer! 'Oops!', I thought, closing up the drawer rather quickly, 'I'll just try the next one down.' But when I glanced inside of the next drawer, I saw that it - like the previous one - contained nothing but bras, panties, and other unmentionables! Indeed, every single one of the nine drawers of the dresser were full of... well... drawers! Lacy drawers! And, though, there were pretty undies of all colors and hues inside of them, there seemed to be one dominant tone amongst the enormous collection of bikinis, briefs, and tiny thongs: black.

After opening up the final drawer on the bottom right, I stopped for a moment, amazed by what I had just seen. I knew that my mother at home had a lingerie chest in which she kept all of her silky sweet nothings, accumulated over the years. But Gen's dresser far exceeded mom's in size and in the sheer number of items inside - and she was still quite a bit younger than my mother! The vast volume of breathtaking bikinis, beautiful brassieres and naughty nylons that I had seen inside this hidden inner chamber staggered me! One drawer that I had opened seemed to have contained nothing but an array of tempting teddies. Yet another was filled to the brim with soft, sumptuous, slips and eye-catching camisoles. Where had she gotten all of these luscious lacy items? And why did she have so many of them? Did Aunt Gen have a wicked, wanton secret sex life of some sort that I knew nothing about?

I stared into the last drawer. Lying near the top of another endless compilation of appealing panties was an adorable little one that really caught my attention. It was a darling black string bikini with the word 'HOT' written on the front in red flaming letters and the word 'BUNS' emblazoned on the back side. There was red lace all up and down the edges of the impish undies. I picked up the pair to look at them closer, and when I did - I noticed that there seemed to be something other than underwear below them. Rummaging around further in the drawer, I discovered that - tucked away underneath a layer of bawdy bikinis (many, like the first, labeled with brazen messages like: "WILD WENCH", "FOXY FILLIE", and "CONTENTS MAY BECOME WET WHEN TOUCHED") - was a collection of VCR tapes. I reached down beneath the lace and pulled out one of the videos. It wasn't a commercial tape, but seemed to be a home recording of some sort. On the side there was a plain label that read simply: "Holly and Kelli Go Shopping". 

Intrigued, I pulled out several other tapes. There were close to a dozen of them altogether. Each one of them looked similar to the first one and the majority of them were fairly nondescript. Every one of them - interestingly though - seemed to mention the name Holly somewhere in the title. There was 'Holly and Kelli meet Katie', 'Holly Checks Out Tara' (this one had an illustration of a supermarket cash register on the front), 'Holly's Pool Party', and finally one with the provocative title of 'Holly On Hump Day'. The pool party tape had a glossy photograph on its front that showed five voluptuous women in swimsuits laying by a jacuzzi. Two of the bathing beauties were tall blondes, two were curly brunettes, and one was an Asian girl with long flowing black hair. I found myself wondering if one of the lovely looking ladies on the cover of this tape was the "Holly" that appeared in all of the video titles. I also wondered how Gen Gen knew this Holly. She had never mentioned her in any conversation that I could remember. As I pondered these questions, my hand unexpectedly brushed against something that didn't feel like either like a tape or a pair of panties.

The object was long and thick and made of a dark black plastic. I gasped a bit when I pulled it out and realized what it actually was. Now, I was - mind you - wise enough in the ways of the world to know what a dildo was. I had had many giggling conversations with my high school girlfriends about them. Yet, for all of our twittering pillow talk about them, I had never seen one up close like this before. As I held it up and slid my hand over the glossy smoothness of the fake cock, I remembered how Susie Martin had once talked about stealing one from her older sister's room and touching herself with it in the bathroom. I remembered blushing when she had first told that story at her slumber party during sophomore year. 

Not that I didn't tease myself sometimes, mind you. Actually, since coming to my aunt's house, I had recently gotten into the habit of pleasuring myself regularly each morning. Gen usually left for work about an hour before me every day. So this often gave me some "alone time" when I could lie in bed with my panties down to my knees and rub my hungry clittie with my fingers. Sometimes I would also masturbate in the bathroom shower, enjoying the sensation of the water striking my hard nipples as I slipped a soapy finger or two into my eagerly awaiting folds of flesh. Sometimes I frigged myself so hard during those private moments that I worried that one of the neighbors living above or below Gen would hear my moans of personal passion. But I was all so enjoyable that I was finding it hard to stop these daily indulgences.

As I gazed at the hard rod that I was now holding in my right hand, I briefly considered whether I might take Gen's playtoy to the bathroom and ram it hard inside of myself at that very moment. I imagined Susie Martin doing herself like that in her own bathroom back in Missouri. And, for a moment, I seemed to take pleasure imagining the scene of another girl touching herself, losing herself in the ecstacy of her own self-stimulation. I suddenly found myself watching voyeuristically as Susie sat on the toilet, slowly, sensuously, sliding her sister's pink pussy pounder inside of her hot, wet hole.

In my mind, I watched Susie's big breasts heaving up and down as she stroked herself repeatedly with her stolen slut stick. She was starting to moan lightly now, as I often did, and she was mumbling something. At first, her words were just whispers, coming between gasps of breath: "Oh, yes. Oh my..... Oh, that feels soooooo nice. Don't let it stop. Don't let it ever stop..." Then, frantically, she began bucking up and down, back and forth, slapping her backside and bottom against the cool white porcelain. In my mind, I remembered how shapely and pleasing Susie's delicious derriere was. There was a rhythmic knocking sound now as her alluring ass rapped again and again against the toilet seat. In my mind, I heard my female friend's calls become louder and louder, her need becoming ever more urgent as she approached her climax. It was as if I was right there in the room with her now. It was as if I was the one fucking her with that long plastic prick. "Oh, keep doing that, baby,' she was begging me, calling out to me: 'Oh, Ann! OH, ANN!!!!"

Suddenly I was jerked out of my sweet fantasies and back to reality. The calling that I was hearing now was REAL. It was a woman's voice and it was coming from the apartment door!!! Someone was knocking loudly on the door and calling: "Ann! Oh, Ann! Are you there?"

'Oh, gosh!' I thought anxiously, 'What if Gen has returned early and she finds me like this in her room?!!!' Frantically, I tossed the dildo under the bed, threw the tapes haphazardly back into the closet and shut the closet door in a desperate attempt to conceal my illicit intrusion into my aunt's private chambers. Exiting the bedroom quickly, I grabbed a big towel from the nearby bathroom and wrapped it around me to cover my near nakedness. As I hurried toward the door, trying to compose myself, I was relieved as I heard the woman's voice again. It wasn't Gen's voice. (After all, I was to realize days later, why would Gen wait to come in the door to her own apartment anyway?! It's amazing what your mind will imagine when its just been wandering in the world of guilty pleasures!) No, the voice wasn't my aunt's. It sounded more like one of the neighbors. I knew that I had heard that voice before, but couldn't quite place which one it was. She was knocking on the door, calling again, somewhat urgently: "ANN! OH, ANN! ARE YOU THERE, DARLING?!"

"Just a moment," I called back, and opened up the door a bit to see who it was on the other side. Gazing out, I recognized immediately who it was. It was Mrs. Tierney, a woman who lived in the suite just above Aunt Gen. She was in her mid thirties, with blonde hair and a more than ample bosom. She was carrying a large black briefcase in one hand and was shifting back and forth nervously on her feet. "Oh, Ann!" Mrs. Tierney said, with a tone of great relief in her voice, "I am so glad that you are here. I locked myself out of my apartment it seems, and I *really* need to use a bathroom. Would you mind if I used yours?"

"Not at all," I said, opening the door further and letting her in, "The bathroom is down that way, just past the two bedrooms." 

A few moments later, Mrs. Tierney emerged from the toilet. "Thank you so much," she said warmly, "I was getting pretty desperate out there. You saved me."

"No problem," I said back, "Can I help you in any other way, Mrs. T?"

"Well, I've already called a locksmith and they're supposed to be on their way over now. So that's taken care of. I guess I just need a place to sit and wait until then. Would it be too much of an imposition if I waited here until they arrived?"




Ann's Awakening (The Second Letter)



I told Mrs. Tierney about how my evening plans had been torpedoed. I explained that I would just be hanging out at home and, so, would love the company. I got her a drink of iced tea and we sat down on the couch to sit and talk while we waited for her locksmith to arrive. As she and I were making casual conversation, I nonchalantly asked her what she did for a living.

My words seemed to throw my guest for a loop. Mrs. Tierney paused and shifted in her seat. It was a question, it seems, that she hadn't expected. "Well, darling," she replied after a moment, hesitantly, "Ordinarily I'm a bit shy about sharing the details of my work. You see, not everyone understands or approves of what I do. I am pleased that *you* are interested though,' she said, smiling up at me. 

I smiled back at her, and - as I did - Mrs. T's nervousness seemed to fade. 'Yes, it is nice to know that you are interested, sweetheart. In fact,' she continued, her voice returning to full strength again, ' I saw something just a bit ago that leads me to believe that you might very well be open to hearing the full details of my line of work. Would you like to for me to tell you more?," she asked. "If so, I must confess that I'll need a moment or two to.. um... compose myself in your bathroom before I can continue. Is that OK?"

I was greatly intrigued by my neighbor's response. What could be so delicate or embarrassing about her job that she needed time to compose herself before talking about it? Why wouldn't some approve of her line of work? And how could it be so involved that she needed to leave the room before explaining it to me??? My mind was abuzz with curiosity. "Sure, Mrs. Tierney" I replied, eager to know the answers to these many mysteries, "I hope I don't seem nosy, but I'd really love to hear more. Take as much time in there as you need," I said, gesturing toward the open bathroom door. 

"Excellent, then," replied the intriguing girl-next-door, picking up her black briefcase and heading back toward the bathroom. When she reached the door, I said to her again: "Take whatever time you need, Mrs. Tierney. Honestly. I've got all night free, you know".

Mrs. Tierney smiled and considered what I had just said. "Yes, that's right," she said, half speaking to herself it seemed, "You do have the whole night free don't you? That's nice. That will work out real nice." Then she disappeared inside the door. Just before she closed the door, though, she looked back out quickly and winked at me. "By the way," she said, "You can call me Honey Lynn. That's my name. I'll be just a moment in here. Don't go anywhere!" 

Well, I don't need to tell you all that - as curious as I was at that point - leaving was the very last thing on my mind!!! I waited excitedly on the couch for several minutes while Mrs. T, or Honey, as I now knew her, "prepared herself" in the other room. (Just what *was* she doing???) In the end, my neighbor was only out of the room for just five minutes. It seemed an eternity, though, to my inquisitive and curious young mind! When she finally emerged from the bathroom, I was completely stunned. Honey had undergone, it seemed, a complete transformation. Gone was the casual, but pretty, long black skirt that she had on earlier. Gone, too, was her modest white blouse. Gone, indeed, was almost everything that my seemingly reserved vistor had been wearing before!!! My jaw dropped open as Mrs. T. slunk out of the bathroom wearing just a pretty pink pair of string bikinis and a matching pink bra. She sauntered toward me coquettishly, carrying a small bag in her hand and wearing a broad smile on her face. "Voila!" she said, displaying her erotic ensemble proudly and provocatively, "This is my 'work uniform', I guess you might say!" 

As I took in the sumptuous sight of my nearly naked neighbor, I was momentarily at a loss for words. Honey had gone from meek matron to sultry sex kitten in five minutes flat! Her baby bikini bottoms were cut so high that you could practically see her womanhood peeking out from underneath them. And her huge boobies were nearly bursting from the bonds of the cute brassiere that struggled to enclose them. Clearly, Mrs. T, like I, had been blessed with the kind of tremendous tits that turn heads. I knew, from the gossip at our girly slumber parties, that my own double-d's had been the object of many high school boys' fascinations and fleshy fantasies. And now, as I admired Honey's colossal, curvaceous chest, I could tell that her mountainous melons had probably also brought many a cock to swift attention during her years of experience. For, with her blouse off, it was evident to me that Honey was at least a delicious 44DD. My own white panties, already somewhat soggy from my earlier fantasizing about Susie, now began to get even wetter as I took in the incredible image of this blonde bombshell. "Wow!", I eventually managed to blurt out, when I had finally caught my breath, "That is a really beautiful outfit, Mrs. T! You are soooo gorgeous!." 

"Thank you," my guest smiled, sitting beside me on the couch. "But let's dispense with the formalities, darling, OK? As I said before, my name is Honey. And now that you've seen me like this," she grinned, motioning to her little lace panty set, "There's no need for us to act like we are strangers anymore, right?"

"I guess not... Honey Lynn," I said, laughing heartily in agreement. "So, what is it exactly that you *do* in that?", I asked, returning to the question of her work. Are you... ". My mind raced, searching for the right, delicate words to express what I was thinking at the moment. "Are you an... an escort or something?" 

Mrs. T chuckled. "A call girl? Oh, no," she said, "Though I can see where you might guess that from how I'm attired. I guess, though, that *is* partly what I - and all of the women I visit in my work - hope people *will* think of us when we wear these, Ann." At that point, Honey edged closer to me on the couch. The bath towel that I was wearing had come loose and a good bit of my bare legs was showing. Honey rested her hand right on my exposed thigh. I could tell from her voice that she was getting more and more excited as she continued. "You see, sweet Ann, every woman has a wild, wanton side, but - because of the constraints of polite society - we don't always get to show it. Every woman has those times when she wants to be thought of - not as a timid housewife - but as a lecherous, lascivious lady of the night. So, what I do in my business is to provide the outfits and the equipment, you might say, that will help them realize those sweet visions."

At this point, Honey reached over into the handbag she had carried in and pulled out a darling red teddy. "Here is one of the products that I sell," Honey said, offering it to me and letting its luxurious lace brush against my legs. As it skimmed the surface of my skin, the delicate fabric of the teddy sent sweet shivers through me and brought my nipples quickly to attention. "We, at BawdyWare, call this 'Ravishing in Red.' ", Honey smiled as she described her wonderful wares. "What do you think of it? Wouldn't wearing something like this be exciting to you?"

It certainly *was* exciting to me. As I handled its silky fabric and felt it caress my skin, I imagined what a brazen imp I would feel like prancing about in such luscious lingerie. "Oh, my, yes!" I agreed, "This is absolutely devilish, Honey!! So," I inquired, holding the teddy against my cheek and taking in its fabulous feel once more, "You sell lingerie to women then? Is that what you do?" 

"Yes," Honey nodded, "At parties that we hold in ladies' houses. I am the chief salesperson for BawdyWear Lingerie, you see. A woman will invite several of her girlfriends over to her house one night when all of the men are away. I then spend the evening showing them our product line. I am the principal model for the lingerie. Your aunt has been a great help to me. She has hosted several parties for me during the last few years."

A sudden flash of realization came to me as I thought back to the hidden stash of panties that I had discovered earlier. I thought to myself: "Aunt Gen must not only be a great help to Honey, she must be her best customer, too!!!" As I chuckled inwardly at this and pondered Mrs. T's titillating occupation, yet another question came to my mind. "There's one thing I don't understand though, Honey," I inquired, "You said that not everyone approves of what you do. I don't see how, though, anyone could object to a little lingerie? Sure, it's provocative alright," I grinned, "but it's not in any way criminal after all."

"Well," Honey said, "My company might not be so controversial down here in Texas if playful panties were the only thing that we sold. But the truth is, Ann, that we sell other... um... items, as well. We offer women anything that will help enhance the mood and make their lovemaking more satisfying. So, we sell oils and X-rated videos and..." Here, Honey reached over into her little bag again and pulled out something else. "We also sell things like this... for when a woman is alone, or when she may be with one or more of her close girlfriends."

I stared wide-eyed at the phallic object that Honey held out in her hand. It was a sex toy somewhat like the one I had seen in Aunt Gen's closet, but this one was smaller and pink in color. "We call this one the Pink Princess," Honey smiled, "And I can assure you from personal experience the name is very accurate. She is 100% guaranteed to make you feel like a queen and to give you a royally good time!" Then she laughed, and suddenly pressed a button on the toy that started it humming and buzzing.

"My goodness!" I said, jumping a little in surprise. "I didn't know that it moved!"

"Oh, yes," Honey smiled slyly, "It moves alright, and it moves you, too." Then she looked at me. "Now, Ann," she said, obviously intrigued by my reaction to the toy, "Don't tell me that you've never seen or used a vibrator before?"

"Oh, no, Mrs. Tierney," I said, my face turning a little red. "I've heard girls talk about such toys before. And I even held a dildo once." My face reddened as I thought back to the nasty dildo fantasies that I been having just before Honey knocked on the door. As open as my neighbor was being with me, though, I could scarcely confess those dirty daydreams to her. Not yet, at least. "I've touched one, yes," I admitted shyly. "But I've never... um... put one inside of me yet."

"I thought you knew more of them then you were letting on," Honey smiled, "But I still don't think that you're being entirely honest with me, girl." Here Honey got up from the couch and slowly walked over toward the hallway that led to our bedrooms and the bath. She motioned over toward both of those rooms, pointing at them with the Pink Princess. "You see, judging from what I hear each morning coming up through the floorboards of my apartment and judging from the black monster that I happened to spy lying on the floor as I walked by the bedroom, I would guess that you've done more than just see a dildo. I would venture to say that you've *done* one, again and again." Honey giggled at her naughty insinuation.

"Oh no!", I gasped as I realized my mistake. In my haste to fling Aunt Gen's cock toy under the bed, I must have accidentally missed my target! I got up quickly and ran to the hallway where Honey was standing with her hands on her hips and a broad smirk on her face. I gazed into the room and saw my auntie's long pleasure prick lying on the floor, in full view, beside the four poster bed. "Wait," I began to stammer, trying to explain. "You don't understand. Yes, that is me that you hear in the morning. And, I confess that, yes, I discovered that toy of Gen's this evening. But tonight is the very first time that I ever saw it, I swear! When I touch myself in the bathroom, I don't use that. I really don't!"

Honey smiled at all of my protests. "What are you so worked up about, sweetheart?" she asked, putting her arm around my shoulder. "I believe you. I really do. But there's nothing to be ashamed of if you had used a toy, even one that belonged to your Aunt. She'd understand, baby." Honey pivoted and put both of her arms around my waist lovingly. Through the thin cotton of my towel wrap, I could feel her right hand resting upon my bottom. She looked deep into my eyes. In this embarrassing moment when all of my secret sexual experimentation had been exposed, her words, her touch, her eyes were all so reassuring. "Sugar, we're all women, you know, " she said soothingly, "We're sexual beings with lusts and longings down in our loins. And when our crotch calls out, we need to respond to those cravings." I felt Honey's fingers stray down between my legs and linger there for a moment. "That's what BawdyWare is all about, you see. It's the spirit of letting ourselves lose those inhibitions and give in to our passions. We should never be afraid or ashamed to be the wicked women we are at heart." 

Honey broke her embrace and walked into my aunt's bedroom. She bent down and picked up Gen's big black dick, giving me a great glimpse of her beautiful bum cheeks in the process. As she walked back toward me, a devilish grin came over her face. "Mmmm," she mused out loud, "A cock in both hands. What a delicious thought!" Erotically, she pressed the black dildo to her lips while, with the other hand, she inched the pink vibe down toward her sweet sex. "Wouldn't you like to know how this hard black rod *really* feels, darling? " Honey cooed in my ear as I watched her slip the Princess under the lace top of her panties. Then she licked the black shaft up and down lewdly. "This is one of our most popular models, you know. We call it the Black Stallion. Its fast and powerful like a thoroughbred. Its for all those fillies like you and me who are hot to trot." 

Honey's breath was warm and steamy upon my cheek. She leaned in closer to me so that our lipstick lips were on either side of the ebony dildo. In my mind flashed the naughty notion of Honey and I in a ménage a trois with some muscular African stud. I closed my eyes briefly and imagined us both sucking and stroking his erect cock. I envisioned Honey teasing the tip with her serpentine tongue while I lavished the base and his big balls with my carnal kisses. I licked my lips hungrily and felt my tongue graze the side of the cock as I did so.

Then, abruptly and inexplicably, the vision shifted. As I gazed upon the imaginary form of the dark-skinned man I pictured myself ministering to, suddenly he morphed. His rippling muscles and rock-hard abs smoothed and transformed into gentle, flowing curves. His manly pecs were replaced by a pair of perfect black breasts. Where once there had been an impressive Saharan sword, now there was a mass of bushy black curls covering a woman's tender pink petals. Comely this Nubian princess was and graceful! And in my mind I saw myself licking up and down the length of her labia, pouring holy water upon this Abyssinian Aphrodite that my subconscious had somehow conjured up.

Startled by this confusing shift in imagery, I broke from my reverie. As I struggled to come to terms with the meaning of my vision, I felt my towel drop to the floor - yanked off in one swift motion by my voluptuous visitor. Mrs. T. backed up a few steps, surveying my nearly nude body up and down. "Ahh," she said, "That's much better now. There's no reason to keep such a fantastic form all hidden." She was clearly enjoying the view and seemed impressed by my sizable assets up top. "You are quite the young Betty Grable," she observed, "And I see you are wearing white. I guess that there can't be any truth, then, to what they say about white being a sign of innocence and purity."

Honey stepped closer again and slid the Stallion down between our bodies. Helpless to resist her advances, I felt the huge ramrod trail down my tummy toward my hungry hips. My knees began to weaken. My mind was swimming with lust. All kinds of fervent feelings were swirling around in my brain, whispering to me to relinquish control. Honey Lynn was simultaneously pressing the black dildo against the front of my crotch and the smaller pink one against my backside. It was all too much.."I, I think I need to sit down," I whimpered to her. My guest smiled and helped me over to the couch. "OK, sweetheart," she said as she gently eased me onto the plush sofa. "Just lay back and relax then for a moment. I want to show you what happens when a woman lets her lingerie and love toys loosen her inhibitions."

For the next several minutes, I was Honey's captive audience. I watched, mesmerized, as she did an erotic dance around the couch, teasing me while she pranced around in her skimpy outfit. Each time she passed behind the couch, she would rub her tempting titties and playfully slip the Stallion down inside the front of her tiny bikini bottoms. Then, when she came around the couch, she would slink sexily toward me, turn around and bend over so deeply that her gorgeous panty-clad ass cheeks were just inches from my drooling lips. I wondered as I watched this enchanting performance whether Honey had spent some time as a stripper or an exotic dancer before turning to sales. She was very good! My private dancer repeated her routine several times until I was so horny that I couldn't stand it any longer. My sweet snatch was now so wet that my juices had completely soaked my white panties!

After her rousing routine, Honey sat back down beside me and sexily slid her panties off. I watched, transfixed, as she spread her creamy thighs and slipped the black shaft into her waiting puss. "It feels soooo wonderful, baby," she sighed as the shaft disappeared inch by inch inside of her, "It's so good when it slides in and out, in and out." Unable to hold back any longer, I slid my left hand down inside my string bikinis and began to tenderly touch my clittie. Mrs. T saw what I was doing and began to encourage me as she continued sliding the Stallion deep inside of her own hot hole. "Mmmmm, yessss.... That's it, darling. Lose yourself in the moment. Become the sexy siren that you know you are." Waves of delight began washing over me as I sent one finger, then another, probing down inside my long lust canal. Hurriedly, I pulled my panties down to my knees so that I could access my aching twat more freely. To my right, I could see Honey's hips begin to rise up rhythmically to meet the sweet strokes of her own masturbation. Then I felt Honey touch my free hand and guide it over toward her sex. She slowed her stroking and placed my hand on top of the Stallion together with hers. Then she whispered: "Do me, Annie." There was a sense of urgency in her voice as she implored me: "Fuck me with this hard black cock of yours."

She was right. It *was* my cock, or - at least - my aunt's. And I was going to give her what she wanted. Oh, was I ever going to give it to her!!! I moved slowly at first, making sure that she could feel every inch of its hardness rubbing the length of her pleasure passage. Then faster and faster my hand moved, ramming the rod in as hard and quick as I could, pounding her pussy like there was no tomorrow. Her hand had slipped off the dildo and it was just me fucking her now. I removed my left hand from my wet slit and began pumping her with all my might. I was a woman consumed. My mouth spat out filthy words: "Oh, yes, Honey! You tawdry little trollop! You are going to get the fucking of your life!" 

"Yes, yessss," I heard Honey cry in delight as I drove the dickhead deeper and deeper, "We're both such easy sluts, aren't we, Ann? We are sooooo bad. So very bad. Oh, Annie! Keep doing me with your dildo. Please, please keep doing that..." 

Earthy epithets tumbled out of my mouth like water from a dam that had suddenly burst. "Hooker! Whore! " I called out as my hands rammed the racehorse again and again into Honey's cunnie. "Put Out! Pickup! Playgirl!" Each time I plunged the dark dildo into her warm nether passages, a new, naughty name for my mistress sprang from my lips. "Lech! Lay Lady! Lust Bunny! Little Miss Muff-lick!". The lewd labels kept pouring forth as I hammered away at the heavenly hussy laying spread eagle beside me. "Bed Jumper! Bum Humper!" The wicked words flowed uninhibited and unashamedly from some pent up reservoir of raunchiness lying deep within me.




Ann's Awakening (The Second Letter)



Honey was begging me to continue jamming the faux phallus into her juicy jism well. "Oh, yes! I am a naughty, nasty nympho!", she cried, "Slam it in my sissy, baby! Thrust that lust lance deep inside me! Ohhhhhhhhh, yeah! That's it! Plug my pussy with that delicious dong!"

As Honey implored me to ram her ever harder, I felt something wondrous against my own quivering clittie. My vixenous visitor had picked up the Pink Princess and was rubbing it back and forth over my oh-so-sensitive spots. I sighed when I felt its scintillating rhythms pulsing against my little love button. "Oh, doll baby! Oh, you dream boat!" I moaned blissfully. I was now humming as happily as the titillating tool that was stroking my sweet sex. "Oh, Honey, baby, you *are* bad," I cried, "You wayward wench! You clit tickler!!! Mmmmmmmm, yes, yessss, yesssssss!!!" 

I slammed away at my pretty paramour with fiercer and fiercer strokes. All the while, Honey continued playing with my pretty pussy, probing and pushing further inside of it with her vibrator. I felt her long luscious fingers join the vibe in a royal rhapsody of decadent delight. My climax was building and I sensed my moment of explosion drawing ever closer. As I neared the edge of heaven, I heard Honey purring again in my ear: "Now you know how it feels to have one of them inside you, darling - to have *my* toy inside of you. Be my pleasure partner, baby. Be my... Be my girl. Ohhhhh..."

At this, Honey reached her peak and I heard her cry out in ecstacy. At this same moment, I, too, went over the brink. A flood of sweet juice gushed from my vagina and washed over my lovemaker's hands. It was as if I was sending out my love to her, pouring out my thankfulness for this sweet, sweet release. My own fingers were now, too, drenched with the delicious dew of Honey's orgasm. Leaving the dildo planted inside of her, I brought my fingers up to my lips, tasting her delectable nectar and savoring the fragrance of my lover's scent. "Mmmmm," I sighed. This was the most marvelous moment... and it had been with another woman!

I turned over and saw my teacher lying contentedly beside me, her big breasts still heaving up and down a little as her climax subsided. I rolled over on top of Honey Lynn and kissed her impetuously on her lips. "Oh, Ann, you are absolutely amazing," Honey murmured in reply, looking up at me with a smile, "You are definitely all woman." She giggled and kissed me back. We laid there together for several minutes, basking in the joy of our embrace. As we held each other, I could feel her heart beating hard inside her while I pressed my full chest against hers. In the warm afterglow of our orgasms, the soft feel of her skin was so incredible to me.

After a few moments of enjoying the quiet, Honey spoke to me again. "You know," she said with a naughty grin, "Even though you know what it feels like to have *a*toy inside of you now, you still don't know what it feels like to have *this* big boy filling you full." She pointed down to the Black Stallion, which was still pressed deep inside her pussy.

I smiled back. "Yes, I guess that's true," I admitted. "So... What more do you have in mind, you mischievous minx?", I asked slyly, "You have gotten me so heated up here that my yoni is yearning for more." I pinched the cheek of her bum to show her I was ready for action.

"Well, good!" Honey said, "Let me share with you a thought I had then. But first, I have something that I've been wanting to do that I need to take care of." With that, Honey unclasped her bra, letting her succulent fruits swing fully free. I smiled at the sight of her glorious globes. "You like them, don't you, baby?", Honey asked. I nodded eagerly in the affirmative. "Good. This is something that you should enjoy then." Honey scooted up a little on the couch to get more comfortable. "Press my titties together, girl," she instructed me. Then she took my hands in hers and placed one on either side of her humongous hills. As my fingers fondled her gigantic jugs, I was in paradise. I had been wanting to feel up those mountainous mounds ever since I had caught sight of them, so I was definitely not going to object to this racy request!

While my roving hands wandered over that magnificent terrain, I watched with gleeful curiosity as Honey slipped her hands between her legs. She slid my aunt's dildo from her wet twat and slipped the cum-dripping dick between her mammoth melons. Then she began sliding the cock back and forth, inching it closer and closer to her mouth, until she was practically tasting it with her ravenous mouth. Gawd! She was tit-fucking herself! When the cock reached her lips, she would take it deeper and deeper until, at last, it seemed that she would completely consume the big penis pole. She had the happiest grin on her face as she sucked and slobbered all over Gen's sex shaft. "Mmmmm," she moaned between mouthfuls, "I'll... mmmm... bet.... mmmm... that.... ummmm... this tastes... mmmm nnnn.... just....oh yess.... like.... your.... mmmmm... aunt's unghhh... pretty pussy." 

A mixture of Honey's pussy juices and saliva ran down the side of rippling cock as Honey continued to deep throat the dildo. It was really turning me on seeing how gleeful she was about tasting her own jism and imagining it was my aunt's. I bent down and began sucking on Honey's beautiful breasts, nibbling at her erect nipples and flicking at them with my tongue. All the while, I continued to squeeze them with my fingers, enjoying the fantastic feel of those forbidden fruits. Honey's moans intensified. "Ahhh... yesss," she screamed, "Do.... mmmm... that.... mmmm... more..... Oh yessssss!" 

Now it was my turn to talk dirty again. "You like that, don't you, you trashy tramp? There's nothing that you like more than sucking a big cock, a big cock covered with your own creamy cum." Honey nodded and sucked faster to show what a horny hussy she truly was. In between licks of her nipples, I continued my hot talk. I wanted my wicked words to be as vulgar as the nasty image of her lying there, eating that fake phallus. "You would do anything for sex, wouldn't you, Honey?", I taunted, "You would do anything to have your pretty titties touched, just like me."

With that I picked up the Pink Princess that was lying there between us, still moist with my own joy juices. As I continued to knead Honey's firm knockers with my right hand, I pressed the vibe to my lips and started licking it up and down lasciviously. Honey's eyes grew wide as she watched me mimicking her outrageous oral actions. "Oh, yesss, girl, yessss," she encouraged me, "Lick that twat tickler. Suck it for me."

My tongue circled the length of the playtoy that had just, minutes earlier, been buried deep inside of my naughty sissy. I tasted the sweetness of my ambrosia. The magic of the moment was exhilarating and I wanted more of this decadent delight!!! I cast the little vibe aside and pointed to the colossal cock that Honey was gaily giving head to. "I want that black beauty," I told her, " I want to feel him inside of me." My hands trailed down toward my nether lips and spread them wide. "Give it to me now," I demanded, "Let me have it good."

Honey shook her head and grinned playfully, her lips erotically encircling the massive meat. "No. Its still not time," she teased, pulling the powerful pussy probe from her mischievous mouth for a moment and dangling it before me like some sort of pleasure popsicle, "I haven't finished enjoying this yet. I want to relish the rod that ravishes your roomie." 

She started to move the toy again to her voracious mouth, but I was having none of that! I snatched the Stallion from Honey's hand and threw it to the floor beside the Princess. "You defiant dildo-devouring doxy!" I scolded her, "You'll get no more of that treat today. At least not until I get *my* fill of that fabulous fucker!" My eyes grew wide like a jungle cat preparing to pounce on its prey. I felt like an animal, consumed with carnal cravings. I mounted Honey's tummy, gripped the back of her head with my hands and pulled her pouty lips close to my twitching twat. "If you want to keep eating," I ordered her, holding her head just inches from my aching orifice, "You'll have to dine on another dish. Suckle me, Honey. Slide your talented tongue deep inside of my tight tunnel."

I pressed her lips hard against my love mound and Honey was quick to respond to my randy request. "Yessss. That's it..." I cooed as I felt Honey's tongue begin to stroke my clitoris slowly, "Oh, yes, baby. Do it just like that. Eat my pussy." I closed my eyes, enjoying the amazing sensation of my guest's oral assault. Honey's appetite seemed unquenchable! As she watered my feminine flower with the wonderful wetness of her mouth, it was heard to tell who was more in rapture. For, the more my body shook and shivered with pleasure, the more I called out to my lover, the more voraciously her luscious lips and torrid tongue devoured my maidenhood. Her snaky serpent darted in and out of my depths, sending shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through me with each lick and flick of her fantastic feelers.

I tilted my head back and ran my fingers through Honey's curly blonde locks as she kissed and caressed my coochie. As I sighed a thousand sighs of bliss, I couldn't believe the transformation that had come over me. Just moments ago, I had felt too shy to open up to Honey and confess my private thoughts. Now I was *really* opening up to her - every part of me!!! No longer was I the apprehensive freshman who was reluctant to share her fantasies. Now I was a commanding drill sergeant in the army of amour! Honey seemed to have awakened something inside of me - a part of me that had always been there, but that I had not permitted to come to the surface before. 

It was a sexy, sensual side. But more than that, it was the powerful, authoritarian side of a woman who knows what her body wants and doesn't hesitate to demand that her needs be satisfied. As Honey wrapped her arms around my bum and lapped away at my hungry hump hole, willfully obeying my order, I realized that I - deep down - was a woman who liked to be in control. Yes, as Honey had said before, I was - like all of my sex - a loose, lustful tart. But I was a particular kind of a promiscuous prostitute. I was the madame who needed to be in charge of the brothel, the boss who would manage her girls and dictate where, how, and how often of the call of Eros would be heeded.

As I felt my truest self emerging, I simultaneously felt a surge of pleasure welling up deep inside of my being. This sweet salesperson had come down like an angel from above and was now going down on me like a wicked devil. My whole body trembled as the first tremors of my orgasm began to hit. "Oh, Honey, baby!" I screamed, "Don't stop! Don't ever stop eating me, you brazen bitch!" Egged on by my lewd language, Honey's attack reached gale force. As she tongue fucked my hot hole with even greater vigor, she sent a long finger sliding inside of my back door, causing me to let loose a squeal that must have reached Heaven itself. My climax rocked me and sweet spasms engulfed my entire frame. I felt my cum gush forth from me like a torrid thundershower in the heat of July. Honey sucked my slit greedily, trying to take in every drop of the drenching downpour that I had released. When, at last, my shuddering subsided and the final after-effects of my explosion had faded, my willing servant finally released her strong grip on my bottom. I lay back, exhausted, on the couch beside her.

When I opened my eyes again, I saw Honey sitting there, looking down on me with love and smiling. "My, oh, my!" she sighed, shaking her head in wonder, "You really *are* Genevieve's neice!"

"Why do you say that, lover?" I asked curiously, "You seem to know more about my aunt than I do."

"Well," Honey began, "I have seen how wild she acts at the parties she has hosted for me. And I have met the outrageous friends whose company she keeps. Your Aunt Gen is quite a firecracker alright. Though, after those passionate pyrotechnics I witnessed minute ago, I would have to say that Gen's Gen's little neice may be even more of a pistol than she is!" 

I laughed. "Well, you *still* need to see how I will take off when you stuff that black rocket of hers inside of me," I reminded her, "Just wait until then!" I threw my arms around my newfound friend and french-kissed her. "You know that I'm not going to let you out of this apartment until you do. It is useless to resist."

"That time is coming, girl," Honey reassured me, kissing me back, "Just like you, it is coming." She grinned and wiped her wet cheek with her discarded pink panties. 

Honey's comments about Aunt Gen reminded me of a question that I had wanted to ask her. "So, speaking of your parties," I queried, "Did you *really* sell Gen all of the intimate apparel that I saw in her closet earlier? I mean, she must have literally ninety nighties in there," I exclaimed, pointing over to her bedroom door, "And I swear she could wear three different pairs of panties each day for a year and still not run out!"

Honey laughed out loud. "Woah!" she said, raising her eyebrows, "I do sell Gen quite a bit of lingerie. She is my best customer for sure. But I didn't know her collection was *that* colossal! She must have other suppliers." Honey was greatly intrigued by my assertion about Gen's womanly wardrobe. My statement of about her super-sized lingerie stash had clearly peaked my good neighbor's interest. Given her own intense interest in alluring intimates, I wasn't surprised by what she asked me next: "As a purveyor of pretty panties, I'd love to see your Aunt's private collection, Ann. Would you show me?"

The look of eager anticipation on Honey's wet face as she awaited my answer revealed volumes about her own secret fetish for underfashions. "Sure," I said, not wanting to disappoint, "I aim to please! Come with me and I'll show you!" As we both got up from the couch and headed toward my aunt's chambers, though, I added: "In exchange for this treat, though, you *will* give me what I want afterwards, though." I looked at her meaningfully. "And you know what it is that I want."

"Such forceful language for such a young lady!" Honey smiled as we rounded the big bed and reached Gen's closet. "You definitely have a demanding side to you. I'll have to start calling you Mistress Ann."

I was pleased that she had recognized my assertive side. "Empress Ann will do better," I joked, pulling back the closet door. "Well, here it is!" I said, gesturing to the multitude of silky chemises and slinky slips hanging from the rack and then down toward the chest of drawers resting beneath them. "Just open that dresser and see what I mean! Gen Gen has a love for lace that exceeds that of Olga herself!"

Gen began pulling open the compartments of Gen's bureau of bikinis gleefully. Seeing her excitement - as she picked up pair after pretty pair, savoring their sumptuous silk and stroking the lavish lace - was like watching a kid let loose in a candy store. "Oh, this is just gorgeous!" she would say as she held up a blue satin pair of Maidenform "Sweet Nothings" admiringly. "Ah, this is sooooo lovely," she would coo as she let her fingers run over the fabric of a sheer black bikini made by Lily of France. "Exquisite!", she proclaimed as she caressed a cute pair of white hi-cut briefs that had a Persian cat decorating their front with the phrase "Pet my kitty" embroidered below. Honey was absolutely entranced by the enormous assortment my aunt had assembled. She was tantalized by the huge hoard of luxurious lingerie that now lay before her! Indeed, I believe that she would have sat there on the floor for hours, trying to hold each of the breaches she came across, if I had not stopped her reverie. 

"Ahem," I said, clearing my throat and putting my hands on my hips, "You'll be here till next week if you try to inspect them all." 

Honey put down the delicate green garter belt she was fondling and gasped. "Oh-mi-god, you were right, Ann!" she shouted, a broad smile stretching from ear to ear across her face, "This is a lingerie lover's dream come true! I don't know where she gets all of these beauties, but they are absolutely amazing! I could spend hours here!!!" 

I looked at Honey with my saddest pair of puppy dog eyes. "But the longer you gander at those precious gems, the longer I need to wait for you to drive that dark dong inside me," I pined, "And I don't know if I can stand the anticipation any longer, girl!" I turned my lip up in a girlish pout in a concerted effort to drag the girl next door away from the frilly fetish that so fascinated her. 

Looking into Honey's eyes, I could tell she was deeply conflicted. She was torn between the cornucopia of silky clit covers that was beckoning to her and the compelling call of the naked neighbor girl standing to her rear. Ultimately, however, Honey's obsession for intimates proved too potent. For, try as she might to break away from the hypnotic hold of the heavenly finery, Honey was still hopelessly enchanted by the spell cast by the bewitching bikinis. Honey's wide eyes were ogling the bundles of beautiful britches packed into the lingerie chest like a pirate drooling over a newly-found cache of buried treasure. As she continued to eye-up the precious booty, Honey next spied a compartment crammed completely full with breathtaking bras and costly corsets. "Interesting," Honey remarked, as she browsed through the hundreds of chic chest coverings, "Most interesting indeed..."

"What is it?" I asked curiously, as Honey held up a lacy black brassiere to her plentiful chest and examined the tag attached to its wispy fabric. I resigned myself, at least momentarily, to the fact that Honey's mania for stunning silkies, her craze for cushy underclothes, was a fixation that would be very hard to fight. I would need to be patient, I told myself. I would need to allow her a bit more time to satisfy her Herculean hankering for hip-huggers. Only then would I be able draw her away from Gen's massive stash of underpants.

"Well," Honey observed, stretching the bra around her considerable cleavage and wrapping it about her large lactic sacs with remarkable ease, "This 'Fabulous Fit' from Lily of France is just my size! And, while most of the bras in here would fit your aunt, I think, there are many others that are clearly meant for smaller or much larger ladies. Take this nude-colored one here, for example." Honey extracted an exquisite looking bra from the multitude of mammary molds tangled up inside of the drawer and handed it to me. "I think that this one would fit you perfectly," Honey said, "And you've got to be - what? - a 42DD, probably?"

I took the magnificently crafted melon wrapper from Honey. The light tan tones of its fabric blended in with my flesh like a second skin. It had a convenient front-closure and its tag read "Barely There" by Bali. "I'm actually more of D cup," I said modestly, starting to hand the bra back to my silk aficionado, "and I don't think I'm any bigger than a size 40."

"Really?" Honey said with a tone of incredulity in her voice, "Try that one on and let's see. You've got such hefty hooters, Annie, that I think even that big bosom box would barely contain those tantalizing ta-tas of yours!"

I hesitated for a moment, knowing that the upcoming bra sizing would surely expose my earlier underestimate of my true proportions. But the bra *was* gorgeous and I was secretly dying to know what it would feel like wrapped around my heaving hills. So, putting all pretenses aside, I slipped the silky top around my supple sugar plums. The beautiful bandeau hugged my creamy Ho Hos like a vise, pressing them against my body in a tight bear hug. No sooner had I snapped the shimmery bra's claps shut then my double-d deception was immediately evident to Honey. "Ooh la la!" she cooed and catcalled when she saw how snugly the Bali bra fit around my firm flesh melons, "You need to stop being so modest, girl! Those monumental muffins would give even Dolly cause to pause!"




Ann's Awakening



'Oh my God!' he said, 'how's a guy supposed to cope with this sort of thing? Could we fuck someplace?' Ann realised he was American.

Tina somehow calmed him down, gave him her telephone number, with a promise for that evening, and bought the boots, with staff-discount!

As we left the store, Ann said, 'That's one way to get staff-discount, I suppose.'

'And I gave the young prick a false telephone number,' she laughed, 'can't stand kids.'

The shoe-shop incident, however, had given Ann an insight into exhibitionism, and she knew just how much she was turned on by showing off her body – knew with certainty that all the women who said they wore miniskirts 'because they liked the freedom,' wore stilettos 'because they were more comfortable' – stuff like that – they were really exhibitionists at heart, prick-teasers at least. She also knew that some women were turned on by restraint, by wearing very tight skirts, so they could hardly walk – all part of the same thing, she thought. Well, just watch me, she said to herself, as she went to bed that night, her husband Trevor safely tucked away in the spare room.

Next day, Tina was waiting for her in her office when she arrived.

'Silk Traders' Club phoned me last night,' she said, without preamble, 'they say they want a couple of hostesses, two nights a week – good money – how are we fixed?'

'But they go topless,' Ann said, 'I couldn't do that.'

'Please yourself,' said Tina, 'but they want to know by tomorrow.'

That evening Ann made an effort to 'build a bridge' to her husband, going to him in her negligee in the spare room, but he was engrossed with his Play Station in front of a small monitor he had in there, and merely grunted when she came up behind him and stroked his hair. She went back into the lounge and rang Tina.

'It's yes,' she said to her friend – her marriage wasn't going to recover, she now knew.

The next evening, the two girls reported to the club. Trevor had shown no interest in where Ann was going when Tina called for her, and she was beyond caring anyway.

They were interviewed by the glamorous blonde wife of the club's owner, who introduced herself as Carla, and were fitted out with their uniform, which consisted of patent leather spike-heeled thigh-high boots and a black velvet miniskirt. 'Underwear is your affair,' she told them, with a knowing look, and Tina whispered, as they left the office, that most of the girls wore minimal thongs, or nothing at all. They changed for the evening, and Ann started to have doubts that she could face the public like this.

'What if there's somebody who knows me out there?' she asked.

'They'll be too ashamed to admit being here, anyway,' grinned Tina, and Ann saw the sense of that.

They went behind the bar and learned their duties, and Ann was soon surprised at how much she enjoyed flouncing around, her naked breasts jiggling as her hips swayed with the exaggerated height of her heels, the cool air around her shaven pussy. When she bent down to take an order at one table, she slightly parted her legs so that those seated directly behind her got a tantalising occasional view just below the hem of her skirt. It was obvious she wore no panties, and she made a habit of glancing around each time, lowering her eyelids provocatively, and just pursing her lips a little. After a time, she got bolder, and deliberately raised the hem of her skirt, wriggling her buttocks together while she served the people in front of her. More than once during the evening a hand reached out and brushed her arse-cheeks, and she slipped away as gracefully as she could. 

When things started to quieten down, about half past one, she was sat at the bar, taking a moment off, when a deep voice spoke up behind her.

'New here, aren't you?'

She turned and looked into a pair of dark, fathomless eyes, set in a mature face, topped with black hair, greying at the temples. He could have been anything from forty to fifty.

'Let me get you a drink.'

She already had one, but would have agreed to anything the newcomer said, anything at all.

'You are?'

'Ann,' she replied, 'the new hostess.'

'When do you finish, Ann?' he asked.

The barman, listening in, unbeknown to Ann, chipped in, 'You can go now, darling, we're all done here.'

Ann looked surprised, and turning back to the newcomer, said, 'It looks as if I'm free then – but who are you?' It came out more brusquely than she had intended, and the man smiled at her as she got down from the stool.    

'My name is Victor,' he said, 'may I offer you a lift home?' and she now detected a slight accent she couldn't place. His suit was impeccable, and he wore a hand-made shirt with a Gucci tie. 

She had to excuse herself while she went and changed, and wondered if her escort would have disappeared when she got back. But no, he was there waiting for her. Ann felt her knees weakening as she walked with him out to the car park, and when he led her to a brand new Lexus, and held the door open for her, she thought she had died and gone to heaven. Although she had changed into the clothes she had arrived in, they consisted of a nice pleated miniskirt and a silk blouse, and, as was her new habit, no underwear, so as she swung her long nylon-stockinged legs into the footwell of the car, she knew she was treating Victor to a brief glimpse of her shaven pussy, with its silver ring probably glinting as it caught the interior light. The thought made her damp with anticipation, because she knew beyond doubt that she was about to be fucked, and there was nothing she wanted more, nothing in the world.

'I hope I don't look too bad with clothes on,' she said, when he started the car.

'On the contrary,' he said, though if you don't mind me saying so, you have lovely breasts.'

She blushed, and said nothing, wondering suddenly how he knew which direction to take. She asked him.

'Carla told me where you live,' he said, 'and she also said you are not a very happy lady at the moment?' It was rendered as a question.

She murmured noncommittally at that, and he reached over and touched her knee. The gesture was not an overtly sexual one, but an electric tingle rushed through her body, and she put her hand reflexively over his, looking at him in the light of the passing streetlamps.

He appeared to come to a sudden decision, and took a sharp left turn.

'Come on,' he said, 'I'm taking you somewhere first.'

She knew she should protest – any decent girl would – but said nothing, just stroked the back of the hand that still lay on her knee.

A couple of minutes later they pulled up outside an apartment block with a state-of-the-art entryphone system and palms in the foyer. He entered with a key and they rode the lift to the ninth floor, where he led her to a studio apartment, beautifully furnished in modern style. He flicked on the light.

'Would you like a drink?' he asked her, as they entered the spacious lounge.

Ann shook her head, and started slowly to unbutton her blouse, keeping her eyes on his, as she faced him across the room.

When she shrugged the blouse off her shoulders, Victor came to her, and cupped her breasts in both hands, caressing them gently. She moaned with delight as his fingers played on their tips, massaging her nipples to hardness. Only then did he kiss her, first letting his lips brush hers, then probing with his tongue, darting it between her teeth in a parody of the sex act she knew was to follow. She could feel her juices flowing now, and when he pulled her towards the bedroom, she was only too happy to comply. 

Another spacious room, it housed a large bed, fitted with black satin sheets, and Ann slid onto it, still wearing her skirt, garter-belt and stockings. Victor was in no hurry, and, laying beside her on the bed, started to stroke the full length of her legs, right up to the lace-tops of her stockings. He went ever higher, until he was just touching the outer lips of her sex at the extremity of each stroke. She was getting delirious with anticipation.

'Oh, Victor,' she moaned, 'please, please!'

He responded by tracing the outline of her puffy, excited labia ever so lightly with a teasing fingernail, taunting her, then putting his finger to his own lips, tasting her wetness. Impatiently, she went for his zipper, dragged it down, and found him rock –hard, imprisoned beneath it, so that when she opened his trousers, his cock sprung out, instantly to attention. He had been wearing no underpants – it seemed not only the women at the Silk Traders' went without underwear! His shaft was long and hard, longer than Trevor's, if not quite as thick, she thought, and Ann stroked it lovingly, running both hands up and down its whole length, and cradling his balls while she tenderly licked a drop of precum from the very tip of his crown. He sighed at this, and manoeuvred her into '69' position, easing her legs apart, then taking her clit-ring between his teeth, and pulling gently. The sensation made Ann shudder with sheer pleasure. She licked the length of his rod, then took it deep into her throat, trying to reach her lips right down to the base of hiss shaft, then slowly, slowly, suck as hard as she was able, giving him all the sensation she could. He responded by plunging his probing tongue deep into her wet cunt, so that her juices spurted and drenched him. She had never known an orgasm of such intensity, and he hadn't even fucked her yet. He simultaneously lapped her and flicked at her clit with his fingers, and she continued to suck him as hard as she could, knowing he was about to cum. She wanted him inside her more than anything in the world, but sensed that it would have to wait, and felt him give one great heave, stiffen, and then he shot a great wad of hot spunk straight down her throat. She was ready for it, and swallowed it hungrily, loving the salty taste, and writhing with pleasure as another, more gentle, orgasm overcame her too.

They lay together for a time she had no way of quantifying, and when she felt him stir against her stomach again, she pushed him away, then knelt on the bed, her knees by his face. She opened her legs, and spread her labia with two fingers of one hand, showing him her waiting, pink cunt. Then she played for just a moment with her little silver ring, and he knew he was lost. Kneeling back on her haunches now, she cupped her breasts, and toyed with her hardening nipples, saying, 'Come on, Victor, fuck me now, please.'

His cock was now as stiff as a ramrod once again, and he lay back and let her mount him, easing herself down onto his cock, feeling him penetrate her for the first delicious time, inch by lovely inch, then pinching him with the muscles of her cunt-hole, which made him moan with sheer pleasure. She rode him, bringing him to the very brink again and again, and he played with her clitoris as she did so, so that she lost count of the times she came. Eventually he was unable to contain himself any longer, and roared his triumph as he thrust himself hard into her slender body and spurted again, deep into the inner recesses of her womb.

'Oh, Victor,' she said, 'I needed that!'

'Me too, love,' he said, and she knew she had given him the ride of his life, and that he'd

be back for more.

'Better get you back to your loved one, eh?' he said, a sly grin on his handsome face, as they got ready to leave.

'Don't!' she said.

'You could stay here,' he said quietly, in the silence that followed, looking at her intently.

'My husband will expect me home,' Ann said.

'No, I mean live here – for a time at least,' he said.

'Thank you, but no thank you,' said Ann, 'I'm still trying to make it up with Trevor.'

Trevor, in fact, went out of his way to be pleasant to her for the next few days, and when he suggested they went out together on the Friday night, she agreed readily, and let him take her to a local disco.

It was a cool evening, so she had a coat on over her dress, but when they arrived at the disco, and she checked in her coat, Trevor was aghast.

'You can't wear a dress like that – you've......you've got no bra under it,' he said.

She had put on a short silky nylon halter-neck dress with a loose top, which allowed her breasts to jiggle under the plain cream-coloured material. Their shape, and the outline of her nipples was as evident as if she had been naked.

'I'll let you into a secret,' she whispered, thinking it would turn him on, 'I'm not wearing panties either.'

She couldn't believe his extreme reaction.

'Slut!' he yelled, slapped her hard across the face, right there in the foyer of the disco, and dragged her bodily out to the car-park, not even letting her retrieve her coat. He threw her into the car and drove home like a madman, almost causing several accidents on the way. Ann, crying her eyes out by now, raced upstairs, and shut herself in the spare room until morning. When she got up, the house was empty, and the car was gone.  

She phoned Tina and recounted the events of the previous night. 

'Leave him, darling,' was Tina's conclusion, and she was inclined to agree. That night, they were due to work together at the Silk Traders' anyway, and Tina said they'd have a chat.

Ann didn't want to spend long in the house in case Trevor returned, as there was nothing she wanted to say to him, so she went into town, her things for the evening with her, and spent some time window-shopping.

That evening Ann and Tina met in the dressing room at the club, and were getting ready for the long evening session, when Carla, the owner's wife, put her head around the door. 'How about a striptease from you two tonight, girls?' she asked. Tina and Ann looked at each other and back at Carla questioningly. She was smiling. 'Come along, don't be shy. You'll both do great – sexy young bodies, nice movers, and it's extra money, why not?'

'Sure,' said Tina, answering for them both, while Ann kicked her, 'we'll give it a go, won't we Ann?'

'OK then, eleven and twelve spots respectively then,' said Carla, 'see me here, ten minutes before, will you.'

When she had gone, Ann looked daggers at her friend, 'Another fine mess you've got me into,' she said, 'I've no idea how to go about this.'

'Neither have I,' said Tina, 'but we'll wing it, eh?'

Ann was too busy serving drinks and being touched up, admired, and propositioned by clients, both male, and, which surprised her, female, to worry very much about what was to come, but tried to find a quiet corner for long enough to watch Tina's strip.

She came onto the low stage in a sort of parody of a nurse's uniform, with a little starched cap, apron and so forth. She stripped slowly, to wild applause from the crowd, and the music swelled as she got down to thong and bra. She teased them with these as if she had been doing it all her life, and, when she was naked, got down on a cushion, and simulated masturbation with her stethoscope. She left with her robe wrapped around her, to much clapping.

Ann felt someone at her shoulder. It was Carla. 'Think you can do better?' she asked.

'I don't know,' she replied, 'but I'll have a go.' 

At ten minutes to twelve, Ann went, nervous now, to the dressing room. Carla was there waiting for her. A little while later, she was attired in a business suit with a silk blouse, a full set of underwear, and a pair of fake reading glasses.

'There,' said Carla, 'you look the perfect young executive. Go out and stun 'em!'

Ann's nerves disappeared when she got out on stage, and the music started, a slow, sensuous beat. She had been given four numbers to dance to, and told not to start stripping until the first one had finished, so she started by simply running her hands up and down the curves of her body, as she strutted around to the music, but she had been entertaining an idea, and now was the time. She slowly raised the hem of her pleated skirt, using both hands, up past her stocking-tops, so that the spectators had a view of the white flesh above, then reached a little further with one hand and untied the bow in the ribbon of her panties, letting the ribbon hang down. Then she repeated the process at the other side, and her silk panties fell to the floor. She picked them up and passed them to a silver-haired gentleman on the front row, who promptly put them in his top pocket, to considerable applause.

Ann now had the audience's attention, and, when the music changed to thee old Jane Birkin hit 'Je t'aime' she found herself getting in the mood. Off came her outer clothing, and she had already decided that she wouldn't remove her stockings or garter belt, so she only had her bra to take off – and two and a half records to go! The rest of the number she filled in playing with her tits, as she walked about the stage, licking her own nipples, which she was just able to do, and teasing them to hardness. But then the music changed to a blues number, and she took a chair from the side of the stage. She knew the clients here had come to see pussy – she'd give them some pussy. It felt wonderful to be displaying herself to all these men. She saw that several were masturbating openly, as she opened her slender legs and parted her labia with her long-nailed fingers, letting them drink in the sight of her silver ring, glinting in the arc-lights, and the pink wetness of her glistening cunt. She plunged two fingers deep into her fuckhole and wriggled her arse on the seat as if she was in ecstasy. In truth, she was not too far off.

Then, when the music changed again, this time to a faster beat, she dropped to the floor, where she took up a position on a cushion, spreading her legs wide, and changing the angle around, so that everyone got a view of her naked pussy.

When her turn finished, the applause was deafening.

Carla was quick to congratulate Ann when she got back into her normal gear, and told her that her bonus would be substantial.

A little later, she was delighted to encounter Victor as she was collecting drinks from the bar.

'I hear you did a striptease earlier,' he said.

'Oh, er..... yes,' she replied, hesitantly.

'You don't have to be ashamed,' he said, and then, 'thought any more about my offer?' 

'You mean.........'

'I mean living at the apartment I showed you.'

She looked at him and burst into tears. He took her in his arms, and led her into a lobby, just off the cloakroom, where cleaning materials were kept.

When he had calmed her down sufficiently, she heard herself agreeing to move into the apartment where they had made love, for a trial period of two months, at a nominal rent.

When he drove her there later, she didn't feel like making love, and he was a perfect gentleman, not forcing himself upon her. He said they would talk in the morning, and that he wouldn't come around too early. She sent a text message to Trevor, telling him not to bother looking for her, and slept like a log. 

Next morning, Sunday, Ann got up late, and explored the apartment. Victor had told her it contained everything she was likely to need. He had said, with a sly smile, that he had kept it supplied 'just in case' since he met her.

She found plenty of food, coffee and a fridge full of drinks and fruit in the kitchen. When she investigated the lounge, she discovered a wide range of music CDs, a nice TV with plenty of DVDs and lots of reading matter. She wasn't going to get bored. But what really impressed her was the wardrobe, which Victor had stocked so well she at first thought the clothes must be someone else's. Then she saw that everything was brand new, labels still attached – and all her size, precisely. He had spared no expense – there were dresses, skirts, blouses, underwear, shoes, and all to her taste, so far as she could see. On closer inspection, she realised, with a grin, that there were neither panties nor full bras – he had really understood her preferences! Neither had he neglected the bathroom, where she found a full make-up kit, and all the toiletries and fragrances she could think of. She wandered around the apartment, with eyes like saucers – at this rate, she would scarcely need to collect anything from her home




Ann's Awakening



At about twelve, the entryphone buzzed. Ann didn't know what to do at first, but eventually found the instrument, and pressed the button when she heard Victor's voice. In a few moments, he was at her door, and she kissed him lightly as he entered the hallway, a bunch of flowers in his hand.

'You really do think of everything, don't you?' she said.

'I try. What about we go out for a nice pub lunch someplace?'

'That would be lovely. Will I do like this?' She had dressed simply in a cotton dress and low heels.

'You look just great,' he said, and sounded as if he meant it.

They drove out in light Sunday traffic, beyond the city limits, to quiet countryside, and pulled up at a small country pub which advertised food.

When they had been served with the wholesome country fare, Victor looked at Ann to see if she was ready for what he was about to say. Satisfied, he put a hand on hers, and said quietly, 'Ann, my dear, I know you hardly know me, and that I'm quite a bit older than you, so you may be a bit.......a bit wary, shall we say, especially coming from a horrible marriage such as it seems you have been in.'

She nodded, and smiled, waiting for what he was going to tell her.

He went on, 'I have thought a lot about you, and I don't want to ask you to move in with me, or anything like that, even though I am a free agent. I think we both may value our independence too much for that. But I see in you some things I have long sought in a woman. You are beautiful, you know you are, and like to show it off to the world, but you are not a whore.'

She had gone bright red, and he said, 'And now I've embarrassed you – I'm so sorry!'

They sat and ate for a while in silence, then Victor said, 'Well, Ann, what do you say, will you stay in the apartment for a few months?'

'Of course,' she replied, 'but on two conditions.'

'What are they?'

'That you let me pay a proper rent, and that you take me out sometimes.'

He laughed, and said, 'Done!'

They talked for a long time, and she learned that he was, in effect, a property tycoon, with interests in many countries, and that his one marriage had broken up some five years ago, leaving behind a son whom he never saw. When she asked him why he went to the Silk Traders' Club, he replied frankly that he was an incurable voyeur.

'But doesn't that mean you're a Peeping Tom?' she asked.

'It doesn't seem to manifest itself that way in me. But I am incredibly turned on if you are with me and you show yourself to someone else in some way. I will demonstrate on the way home, if you like. I take it you are not wearing panties?' 

She smiled back at him, and nodded slightly, feeling a small surge of excitement.

In the car, Ann again relaxed in the soft leather seats, and noted that Victor headed towards the city's ring-road. Even on a Sunday, there was always a good deal of traffic. Once he turned the Lexus into the flow of cars, he said to her, 'Pull your skirt up, now.'

She raised the hem off her dress until it was almost up to her crotch, and, glancing sideways, he said, 'No, more, right up to your waist!'

She bunched her dress up in her hand and pulled it right up, exposing herself completely, while Victor was seemingly concentrating on the traffic.

Suddenly, he said, 'Now, open your legs, just a little, and caress your lovely pussy!'

At that moment, he drew smoothly alongside a blue and yellow painted coach full of adolescent boys on some school trip. Through the raked front windscreen of the Lexus, anyone looking down at that moment would have an unforgettable view of Ann fingering the pinkness of her cunt, her dress up around her waist.

Victor deliberately let the coach draw ahead, and saw that two boys were staring, open-mouthed, out of the rear window on their side. They had seen!

When they turned towards home, he asked her how she had felt about showing herself like that. 

'It almost made me cum,' she said, 'I can't describe it to you, but take me home, and I'll show you.'

When they got to the apartment, he had no sooner shut the door behind them, than she turned to kiss him, snaking one arm around his neck, and feeling his hardness with her other hand. There was to bee no waiting, and she pulled him into the lounge, where she simply bent over the small table and parted her legs. Without preliminaries, he thrust his throbbing cock straight into her waiting cunt, which sucked him greedily into its soaking depths. She alternately gripped and released him with her agile cunt-muscles, bringing him to a raging climax which matched her own, as he kneaded her hard nipples with his fingers. When he shot his hot, creamy load, it seemed to go on for ever, and she 

felt she could purr like a cat, with the sheer satisfaction.

They talked some more about what they could do together, and Ann thought she had never felt so happy.

At work the next day, she told Tina about her stroke of luck with Victor, and spent a good deal of the rest of the day teasing her boss.

That evening Victor had asked her to dine with him, at a classy restaurant. 'Dressing up job,' he had said. Ann was restricted to the clothes Victor had bought for her, as she hadn't yet plucked up the courage to collect anything from her old home, but that was no great hardship, as she had a wide enough range to choose from.

'Dressing up' she imagined, meant a long dress, and she had difficulty in seeing how she could find anything really sexy, but long, until she had a closer look at what Victor had left in her wardrobe. She found a long white silk dress, high-necked and long-sleeved, which fitted her like a glove. She could wear nothing whatever underneath it, and had to wriggle and squirm her way into it. When she looked at herself in the long mirror, her nipples poked out defiantly through the thin silk, and the shape of her firm breasts was outlined perfectly. When she turned around, her buttocks too were defined as if she were naked. The skirt was so tight about her legs that she could walk only with short steps. She put on ultra-high metal-heeled stilettos, and cinched a heavy silver chain around her waist. 

Victor pronounced himself 'enchanted' with her appearance when he arrived, and they set off to the restaurant. When they got there, the other diners stopped eating to watch them – or rather to watch her – as they made their way to their table, and their waiter couldn't take his eyes off her nipples as he served their food. 

At the next table, a young couple were just starting their meal when Ann and Victor arrived. He was probably Asian, and about twenty, she a lovely slim blonde, probably a bit younger. Victor drew Ann's attention to them: 'He keeps glancing at you, and she's jealous,' he whispered.

'She's no need to be,' said Ann, 'she's terrific.'

'Isn't she? Shall we invite them?'

'But we don't know them,' said Ann.

'Watch,' said Victor, and got up, went over to the couple's table, and bent over to talk for a few moments.

He came back with a smile of his face, 'That's settled then,' he said, 'they're coming back for coffee.'

After the meal, the young couple lingered over coffee to let Ann and Victor catch up, then they all left together. Ann had never been to Victor's town house before, and was interested to see it. As she anticipated, it was beautifully furnished, and all in impeccable taste. The young couple introduced themselves as Asif and Lisa, and they all made themselves comfortable in the spacious lounge, while Victor's coffee machine did its stuff. 

Ann took the opportunity to take a look at their visitors. Asif was lean and supple-looking, with liquid black eyes and longish jet-black hair. Lisa was like a film-starlet, with a great deal of long blonde hair and big tits. She was dressed in a red tank-top and a pink, silky fifties-style skirt, under which were lots of stiff petticoats. She wore matching pink high heels. She had spent a long time making up.

Victor went into the kitchen and returned with the coffee tray, then put on some music – it was a rumba, with a seductive beat.

'Doesn't anybody want to dance?' said Lisa, her local accent grating slightly.

Victor extended a hand to her and pulled her up to dance with him on the parquet floor, while Ann and Asif followed suit. She moulded herself to Asif's slim form, and soon felt the urgency of a growing erection pressing against her stomach. 

'You're a naughty boy,' she whispered in his ear, then bit his lobe, gently. She looked across at Victor, who had dimmed the lights, so that it wasn't easy to see, but she could have sworn he had his hand up Lisa's skirt as they danced. 

They all paused for coffee, and sat close on the two sofas. Asif had an arm over Ann's shoulder and was toying with a nipple with his fingers, whilst she stroked his thigh.

On the other sofa, Victor and Lisa were kissing passionately.

They danced again, this time more slowly still, and Ann knew that Asif wouldn't be denied any longer – he had an erection like a stallion now.

But first, she felt she had to do something, and tapped Victor on the shoulder, as he danced steamily with the voluptuous blonde.

'May I?' she asked.

'But of course,' he said.

Ann led Asif to the sofa, and sat down, leaving him standing, then, looking up into his dark eyes, she took his zipper between her teeth and pulled it down. He was wearing boxers underneath, so she had to wrestle his rampant shaft free, but then it sprung free in all its dark glory, and she sheathed it in her lips, taking his entire, considerable, length deep into her throat. She knew he couldn't last long, and left off after a few moments, to drag the tight skirt of her dress up to her waist. She sat back, her buttocks on the very edge of the sofa, waiting for him to kneel and take her, and saw that Lisa was bent over the other sofa, awaiting Victor. But she was on her knees! The stiff petticoats were around her waist and she was holding her arse-cheeks wide apart with both hands, presenting the dark tunnel of a well-used arsehole to Victor! Just as Asif came to Ann, she saw Victor spearing Lisa with his wonderful dick, thrusting it deep into her beckoning anus. She resolved, even as she was about to be fucked by this lovely Asian boy, that she would go down that road with her new man, whenever he wanted her to.

Asif fucked her with all the vigour of youth, cumming twice in half an hour, after she had rammed a finger up his arsehole to keep him hard. Then they all went to bed together, laying on Victor's queen-size bed, stroking and caressing each other until the dawn-light streaked the sky.

'Shit, I've got to go to work today,' said Lisa, suddenly, and Ann and Asif said the same thing, but Victor just grinned and said, 'Bad luck.'

Ann had decided on her new life with Victor. She had no idea how long it would last, and didn't care. All she was sure of was that it was a lot more fun than what she had left behind.