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We Have The Builders In

By: thomcovenent



Chapter 1

'I have to tell you something,' he seemed embarrassed and uncomfortable, fidgeting with fingers rough from many years of contact with sand and cement, shifting uncomfortably from buttock to buttock. 

I looked at his face, but he averted his gaze, looking everywhere but at me. 

'What is it?' I asked, expecting bad news, perhaps he would have to up the price or maybe he had uncovered some additional problem with the foundation work.

I was taken aback when he said, 'It's your wife,' he paused and now looked me in the eyes.

'She's been flaunting herself,' he paused and looked at his hands, still fidgeting, 'I think she likes the attention.'

I nearly fell off my chair and would have done had I not found myself standing, the abruptly empty chair teetering backwards but recovering.

'She what?!' suddenly the idea of sinking foundations seemed a minor problem. 

'I know,' he paused looking flustered and not a little ashamed, 'I know how this sounds.'

'How it sounds....?' I was lost for words and stood gaping like a beached fish before dropping down heavily, almost missing the chair and consequently failing to complete the image of a stranded fish!

'Have you not noticed?' he said, his eyebrows were raised questioningly, disbelievingly. 'She takes every opportunity to give the boys a treat.'

'What do you mean, no I've not noticed anything,' I hadn't, stupidly I didn't know what he meant. 

'When we arrive in the morning, she comes down and offers tea, but she isn't always dressed.'

Not always...?

'You really haven't noticed?'

I thought about it. 'I know she makes tea,' it sounded lame.

'She makes it in her bath robe and she lets it slip sometimes.'

'Accidentally...?' I knew it was a naïve question.

'Perhaps,' he said, 'but she seems prepared.'

'Prepared?' 

'She dresses very provocatively under it.'

Something stirred inside me. I'm embarrassed to admit that I wanted to hear him tell me more.

'What do you mean?' I knew what he meant.

'She dresses like...well, I'm sorry, but she dresses like a whore under her robe, stockings and suspenders, very sexy and erotic underwear.' I detected a change in his attitude in the telling, he seemed to be growing in confidence now that he had broken the ice on the subject.

I felt myself becoming aroused, 'You've seen this?' I asked, trying to sound as detached as I could. 

'Yes, I've seen it, and other things.'

'What 'other things' have you seen?' I felt a strange and unfamiliar mix of increasing arousal and dread.

'Sometimes she doesn't wear any knickers.' 

He clearly enjoyed telling me that, talking about my wife's most intimate clothing, or rather, lack of intimate clothing – I believed he had told me he had seen what lies between her legs. There was no denying it now, the conversation was exciting me. 

'How do you know that?' I asked the obvious question, I wanted him to say it.

'Her robe fell open when she was sitting in the kitchen with us, I saw.'

'What did you see?'

'We saw your wife's pussy,' now there was no vestige of embarrassment, his smile was broad. He had emphasised 'we'.

'Who was there with you?' I asked, my cock hard as I squeezed it between my thighs, surreptitiously - and felt wetness.

'Two of the boy's – the plasterers – were here for the day,' he said, 'she knew we could see.'

'How do you know they could see, how did she know,' I asked, wishing I had seen too.

'She was sitting on your swivel chair, she turned it toward each of us as we were all chatting, besides, it was pretty obvious because of what happened next.'

I waited expectantly for him to continue.

He hesitated, uncertainty seemed to have crept back and with it his discomfort had returned. 

'I want to know,' I said, helpfully.

'Look, I'm sorry about this,' he said, 'I like you and your wife and I'd hate to cause any problems.'

I laughed at the absurdity of what he had just said. 

'Don't you think that you might already have done that?' I asked, grinning widely to relax him. 

'I guess so,' he said, 'but what happened next is probably a step beyond a little exposure.'

'Go on,' I said encouragingly, 'you are only being honest and I appreciate it.'

'Well, she had been letting the robe slip open a little at a time but when she stood up to collect the cups, it slipped right off her shoulders and she just left it there and collected up the cups as if nothing had happened. It couldn't have come off like that accidentally and she didn't try to stop it or put it back on.'

'She was naked?'

'No, she was wearing a bra – but, yes, naked below.'

I tried to picture it, my own wife wearing only a bra as she went about a normal kitchen chore, watched by three men, no doubt with their eyes on stalks!

'You all got an eyeful then,' I said, 'you saw everything?'

He was back to grinning.

'Her pussy and her backside,' he said, 'we all watched her and she acted as if nothing unusual had happened, it was very hot, like happens in a porn movie.'

'Nobody said anything?'

'The conversation halted completely for a minute or two and she washed the dishes,' he was remembering and looked distant for a moment, 'but then we started trying to make conversation between us, about the job, but still watching her as she stood at the sink, she has a great arse.'

'I think she does,' I said.

'Then she turned around so we could see her pussy, though we could only see the hair. She leant back against the sink, holding its edge and listening to us, she didn't join in but acted completely normally. Then she suddenly said she'd let us get on and we watched her walk past, enjoying the view, then she was gone.'

'That's was it?' 

'Yes, we were all a bit gobsmacked, one of the plasterers said 'what a sexy lady', but we just got on with the job.'

'Doesn't sound like builders,' I laughed, 'They are usually much cruder than that!'

He looked embarrassed again, 'I'm afraid they were the next time,' he said.

Chapter 2 

'What happened 'next time'?' I asked, he had piqued my interest and I realised it was no accident.

'It was around 11 a.m. and we were all working outside, the whole crew, when she came out with a basket of washing to hang out,' adding quickly 'fully dressed!'

'She does do the washing sometimes,' I said a little sarcastically, not a little disappointed that she had been 'fully dressed' as he put it.

'I'm not so sure she does it in the same way she did that day,' he said, pausing for effect.

'I'm intrigued,' I said, because I was!

'The dress she was wearing was wringing wet,' he said with a triumphant grin.

It seemed that she had put on one of the dresses she had washed. It clung to her like a second skin, he told me with relish, she was wearing a black bra, he told me, but her thong was invisible. It occurred to me that if it was invisible then how could he know she was wearing one? I had a feeling that would soon be revealed - just as the thong had been! 

That 'great arse', as he referred to it, was clearly visible, 'wobbling' through the clinging wet cotton of the powder blue dress. 

'I love her in that dress,' I told him, sadly, 'but I've never seen her wearing it wet – and it looks good enough dry!' 

I stared into the middle distance, imagining the scene. I had missed a lot of fun and my premonition was working overtime, I had the feeling that he was itching to tell me of more I had missed.

'Work pretty much stopped,' he said 'everyone was watching and there were a few wolf whistles. I had to rebuke a couple of the guys for making - err -inappropriate comments.'

Apparently she had dropped some of the clothes as she was hanging them, having to bend down to retrieve them caused her dress to ride up over the full round cheeks of that 'great arse' and expose the thin black line of her thong disappearing between her legs. She didn't bother pulling the dress back down after retrieving the clothes that had made a bid for freedom, it clung wetly over the curves of her buttocks and water droplets ran down her legs, sparkling colourfully in the bright sunlight. 

He didn't wax lyrical, but that's how I imagined it would have been!

When she had finished hanging the clothes from the basket onto the rotary line, much to her audiences delight (his words), she grabbed the hem of the dress and in one swift motion she had dragged it over her head and off. 

Calmly she had bent over to retrieve some clothes pegs, presenting what he described as 'a glorious view of her almost naked bottom' and then, ignoring the applause, wolf whistles and lewd suggestions that met the sight, she hung the dress on the line. To their even greater delight, she reached behind her and unhooked the strap of her bra, slipping it quickly off her shoulders before hanging it alongside the dress. When she turned around, she held the basket so that her breasts were actually lying in it like a pair of pink melons, though tipped with very prominent swollen nipples! 

Without acknowledging the catcalls and whistles she disappeared back into the house, leaving them with the memory of a very small black lace triangle, sinking in the cleft between her legs as she strode.

Chapter 3

He sat back, smiling and confident now that he knew there was little he could tell me that I might take issue with. 'She really is gorgeous,' he said, 'you are a very lucky man!'

Truth was I had hoped for a little more.

I had another premonition.

To be continued...

He made no attempt to get up, I assumed that he hadn't finished, and if he hadn't finished it could only mean one thing, there was more to come.

'Do you know her friend?'

I knew she had friends, she was a gregarious person.

'Which one do you mean?'

'I mean the lesbian.'

He definitely had a talent for taking me by surprise and I had no talent for hiding my surprise.  

'You don't do you,' it was a rhetorical question.

'Well, if you mean did I know one of her friends was a lesbian, no I didn't. I'd be interested to know which one and how you come to know that about her!'

'Of course it may be that she isn't actually a lesbian,' he said, 'after all, I'm assuming your wife isn't...?' he let the question hang in the air until I plucked it out.

'No she isn't,' I replied, thinking that this was only going to go in one direction, 'do you have a reason for this line of questions, or is it wishful thinking!'

'Oh yes, there is a reason,' he said, clearly now enjoying being fully in control of the conversation about my wife, 'no need for wishful thinking.'

I sighed, 'come on then,' I said surrendering the initiative completely, 'what happened next, I know you are dying to tell me.'

'Your wife has a friend, red haired?'

I nearly choked, 'You are joking right?' 

The idea that Suzanne, my wife's business partner, was involved in any of the shenanigans he had been recounting was absolutely unbelievable. She was a stunning redhead, an ex-model turned professional photographer. She totally deserved the overused word 'stunning'. She was six foot tall, elegant, though small breasted, her gorgeous long legs seemed to go on and on, all the way to the top, more than compensated for any shortfall in the breast department! Believe me, Helen of Troy had nothing on Suzanne, she had not only a face but an arse that would launch a thousand ships! 

The phrase 'grinning ear to ear' was a perfect fit for my builder, he was hugely enjoying this! 

'Not joking. From your reaction I think it's the same lady, though I don't actually know her name. Tall, legs to die for, red hair, little tits, lovely face?'

I nodded dumbly, the possibilities jostled in the limited space of my mind like a crowd in a telephone kiosk.

'So to your knowledge she isn't a lesbian?'

I shook my head, 'Neither, to my knowledge, is my wife.' I didn't mention to him that I had often entertained the idea, not without a little desire that it should be the case. 

'I like that even better!' he said, clearly very pleased with this revelation. 

'I'm listening,' I said.

'She...Suzanne you say?' I nodded, he continued, 'Suzanne then, called me over to the kitchen door. She asked if I was the boss, I said I was. She told me your wife had asked her to fetch me, apparently she wanted to discuss something 'important'. Of course I thought that it was odd, your wife sending this woman to fetch me like that, but I had an idea this might not be anything to do with the building work, so I didn't ask why she couldn't have come to speak to me without using a messenger. I took off my boots and followed her into the house.'

'She wasn't in the kitchen?'

'No, frankly I hadn't expected her to be, honestly,' he looked me in the eyes and his expression was earnest, 'you didn't expect me to say she was did you?'

I looked away, embarrassed that this man had seen my wife in a way that had undermined the normal relationship between a supplier and his customer. 

He didn't wait for an answer, continuing, 'We went out of the kitchen into the hall and Suzanne started up the stairs and I hesitated at the bottom, feeling uncomfortable. She realised I hadn't followed and without stopping or turning around she said 'follow me','

'Where was she then?' I asked, nervously.

'In a bedroom, the master bedroom, your bedroom,' he said, 'the marital bedroom?'

I nodded mutely. This was emasculating, though nothing had happened as yet, he had a reason for emphasising the status of the room!

'I followed her into the room, the curtains were closed and apart from the light that came into the room from the door we had come through, the only light came from the bedside lamps.'

This was easy to imagine, it was my bedroom he was talking about. The lights produced a soft subdued light and I'd often complained that I couldn't read in bed, though they created an ambience that was ideal for an occasional, though increasingly rare, sexual interaction. What he described next was a little more difficult to imagine.

'She was on the bed, arms and legs akimbo and bound with what appeared to be black ribbons around her wrists and ankles. Her eyes were covered with a black blindfold. She was completely naked.'

He paused, I assumed for dramatic effect. 

'She?' I asked stupidly. 

'Your wife, of course,' he said, the faintest of smiles communicating his satisfaction.

'My wife of course,' I said distantly, 'my wife naked and tied to our bed...how?'

He allowed the smile to break through, 'Suzanne, obviously, had tied her.'

'She is a photographer,' I said, realising that Suzanne might not just have tied her. 

'There was a camera on a tripod at the foot of the bed,' he confirmed, 'Suzanne put her finger to her lips, signalling me to keep quiet, then pointing at a chair in the corner of the room. It seemed I was to be the audience.' 

...her right nipple responded as she felt the touch of silk sliding across her breast, stiffening as much through the image of Suzanne leaning across her as to the touch. 

The warm wetness of a tongue slipped across lips which parted to invite invasion, the invitation was accepted and she responded by probing with her own tongue. She revelled as she tasted lipstick from the lips of another woman for the first time, a moan escaped as she felt Suzanne responding even as she had.

She had often imagined what it might be like to kiss a woman, but she had never imagined it would be so sensual. Of course, she had never imagined that when she experienced her first feminine kiss she might be naked, blindfold and bound, or have an audience! 

To be continued...

We Have The Builders In Ch. 02



It had been her own idea, of course, for her friend Suzanne to take the erotic photographs, the latest stage in a gradual build-up of erotic desire, her late in life awakening.

She had only recently realised that she might be an exhibitionist. She had never been, up to now that is, a particularly sexual human being -- especially later in life. 

Ironically it was her husband's fault her latent sexuality was being awakened, ironic because he had long since given up on her since the menopause had 'set in' at forty eight, ending their sex life as unexpectedly as the arrival of a hot flush!

She had needed to use his desk top computer to access the internet and he had forgotten to clear his browser history. 

That is how she had inadvertently ended up on a web site full of erotic pictures, videos and stories. 

Her initial reaction was one of horror and of outraged disgust at her husband. She was confronted with sleazy videos of explicit nudity, kneeling women licking and sucking the large and fully erect penis's of men who stood over them, full stiff nipple tipped breasts being massaged by several hands, women lying on the ground masturbating, their vaginas impaled by a colourful dildo or torpedo shaped vibrator, or engaging in depraved lesbian acts...but the more she looked, the more outrage began to step aside for curiosity. She hadn't imagined people actually did such things publically or some things at all, and, despite herself, she began to explore. 

She had always liked a good read, so she looked through the categories of the stories looking for something interesting, something she might not be familiar with. Then she began to read, and as she read she found herself aroused for the first time in many months, even years. 

She became acutely aware of her clothing where the materials touched her body, rubbing, tickling and shifting against her skin. Still reading, she adjusted her top and felt it slipping on her bra beneath, her nipples stiffened at the touch and pressed against the cotton of the bra. 

She crossed her hands over her chest, lightly flicking the protrusion of her left nipple with the fingers of her right hand, her right nipple with the fingers of her left hand, beginning with caressing, stroking, pressing, then pinching between thumbs and forefingers and gasping aloud at the sensation.

Uncrossing her arms, she began to fondle her heavy breasts through her clothing, lifting them with a hand under each one and rubbing the covered nipples with her thumbs. She continued to read, squeezing her thighs together and felt wetness between her legs. She slipped open the button of her jeans and unzipped them. 

Still reading, she hooked her thumbs into the waistband and dragged the jeans under her slightly raised bottom and partway down her thighs.

She sat back down and used her mouse to scroll the page up the screen, before beginning to fondle herself between her legs with her left hand, her right returning to flick and pinch her more sensitive left nipple. 

Her breathing was becoming ragged, her white cotton panties were wet and slippery, she felt her lips swollen and easily parted as she slid two fingers under the cotton and directly into the hot wetness, past her knuckles to their full length. 

She lifted her thighs toward her inserted fingers, but remained with her buttocks on the chair and relaxed, then tensed again, and relaxed... as she found her rhythm she gradually increased the speed of her thrusts, simultaneously continuing to flick her left nipple. 

She had stopped reading and was now concentrating on her movements, her eyes were closed and head lifted as she felt her orgasm building, her fingers dripped when they were pulled out, and the sound of squelching when they were thrust back in added an incredible obscene eroticism to her arousal. 

When her orgasm hit it was more powerful than any she could remember and she failed to fully stifle a scream on the first wave, but managed it on the second and the third, her thighs trembled and shuddered and her thrusts were erratic and uncontrolled as the sensation too quickly faded. 

After this, logging on to read became an almost daily activity, amongst the usual much less interesting list of household chores! 

Some stories which appealed to her she would re-read, sometimes having to search on key words when she had forgotten the story name, this led to finding more similarly arousing stories and she became aware that it was the exhibitionist stories she enjoyed the most.

After a short time, visiting the site became her first activity of the day, before she showered and dressed, but it was inevitable that soon the stories would not be enough to satisfy her, they had aroused something in her that would need to be satisfied in other ways.

It was not long before she had discovered web sites that provided a person the opportunity to use a web camera. She had no burning desire to watch men masturbating, though of course there was ample opportunity to do just that -- and it was impossible to avoid seeing an erect cock, even if she had resisted it (which she didn't). 

She was surprised at how keen men were to expose themselves to her, but the more discerning ones wanted to see her watching, often simply to confirm that they were being viewed by a woman and not yet another horny male -- she found the number of men with 'bi-curious' tendencies unbelievable! 

Of course there was no way that she was going to let anyone see her face, but she didn't think that letting them see her cleavage would be a risk. It was very apparent that a little cleavage generated a great deal of interest and she resisted the many requests to take off her clothes and show her breasts, but a desire was building inside her that would inevitably need some kind of release!

Finally she succumbed to pressure, or so she told herself. She didn't just strip, but wore a thin cotton top and no bra, she chatted with her camera on and it was strange how seeing the clear shape of her breasts through the top on her own screen aroused her more than the lewd comments made, but knowing they could see her nipples erect was why they were so stiff! 

It was incredible to think that hundreds of people had seen the same view, out of their sight she felt the wetness of her panties clinging to her mound as her fingers probed. She began to imagine being watched masturbating and this sped her quickly to a shuddering orgasm, which encouraged her to take things further!

To be continued...



We Have The Builders In Ch. 03



It was not long before she had discovered web sites that provided a person the opportunity to use a web camera. She had no burning desire to watch men masturbating, though of course there was ample opportunity to do just that -- and it was impossible to avoid seeing an erect cock, even if she had resisted it (which she didn't). 

She was surprised at how keen men were to expose themselves to her, but the more discerning ones wanted to see her watching, often simply to confirm that they were being viewed by a woman and not yet another horny male -- she found the number of men with 'bi-curious' tendencies unbelievable! 

Of course there was no way that she was going to let anyone see her face, but she didn't think that letting them see her cleavage would be a risk. It was very apparent that a little cleavage generated a great deal of interest and she resisted the many requests to take off her clothes and show her breasts, but a desire was building inside her that would inevitably need some kind of release!

Finally she succumbed to pressure, or so she told herself. She didn't just strip, but wore a thin cotton top and no bra, she chatted with her camera on and it was strange how seeing the clear shape of her breasts through the top on her own screen aroused her more than the lewd comments made, but knowing they could see her nipples erect was why they were so stiff! 

It was incredible to think that hundreds of people had seen the same view, out of their sight she felt the wetness of her panties clinging to her mound as her fingers probed. She began to imagine being watched masturbating and this sped her quickly to a shuddering orgasm, which encouraged her to take things further!

She decided that her first real showing would be free from the chair and keyboard, and free from fear of recognition. She would cover her face, using a mask she had worn to a fancy dress party, a whiskered cat's face secured with a band of elastic. Her bedroom, especially her bed, was unlikely to be recognised by anyone except her husband. Lighting was provided by table lamps, it would be too low to see any detail of the room in any case. 

She spent some time securing the web cam to a chair positioned alongside the bed, but the most difficult problem was the position of the computer. After rooting around in her husband office, she found an extension lead for the USB cable - problem solved!

Although she considered it, she decided she wouldn't cheat by recording and then showing a video -- she knew that it just wouldn't be so exciting if nobody was watching her 'live'!

She'd found a web site that allowed the creation of a virtual 'room' of people to chat and if it was your own room, you could password control access to the room. 

But that wouldn't stop people seeing her web cam anyway and in any case she didn't want to limit the numbers. She would create her own room, so there would be no one interfering, but she would not do anything that would prevent anyone watching. It was so much more exciting, she thought, to know that strangers would be seeing her. 

She wasn't afraid of people who knew her seeing her, as she didn't think there would be a risk of recognition, but she also thought that if someone who knew her did see, they would have to explain why they were looking anyway. She also found the idea of someone who knew her seeing her very arousing! If only she could know someone who knew her was watching, but they didn't know she knew (although she was alone, she laughed out loud! All of that was getting very confusing!).

She had decided to start off just chatting, with no camera. She wanted to arouse interest and then forget about the keyboard, switch on the camera and go to the bed. She would read the comments afterward.

She found it so exciting preparing! It was like a first date, or perhaps the date when she knew her date was going to see her underwear, not that it was easy to recall that kind of date!

She showered, even sat at her dressing table in her towels, one wrapped around her body, one on her head, doing her makeup as if she were going out. She brushed and then dried her hair with the hairdryer and then selected her underwear, realising as she did that she needed to refresh her collection. 

Looking through her underwear she realised she was becoming aroused, she just felt so naughty, especially in the middle of the day.

She decided to keep things simple with a pair of black panties and a matching bra. She admired herself in the full length mirror, 'mmm not too bad for a middle aged mum!' she said aloud, pushing her breasts together to deepen an already significant cleavage and rubbing her nipples with the palms of her hands to stiffen them, it felt good and her right hand slid down over a slightly rounded belly and she pressed her fingertips to the panties, she couldn't resist sliding her fingertips up and down to create a camel toe....'mmm so good!' she exclaimed and giggled, 'I better save that for later' she said.

She sat down at the computer and typed the site address into her browser,, logged on and created her room. It was called 'exhibitionist wife' (with an underscore between the words to meet the sites requirements for room names!). 

She activated the web cam on the site, checking all they could see was her bed. It seemed to be a sufficient allure, as the room soon swelled to capacity, she had set it to 150. 

She knew others could see her video even if they didn't join the room, but she would now wind the people in the room up before she put on her mask and climbed onto the bed. The thought of what she was about to do was arousing her so much she had to fight to resist masturbating furiously at the keyboard, but she valiantly resisted, though she could not resist squeezing her breasts together and stimulating her nipples her with her forearms! 'Stop that you dirty slut!' she said aloud to herself, and saying that aroused her even more. 

The room was flooded with people begging as usual! The promise of the bed was causing a furore and she controlled the room, so there were none of the usual irritating threats of 'no directing or you'll be booted' from people who seemed to delight on ruining the flow. He private messaging was off, so everyone was begging her to 'go private'! Why on earth they imagined she would want to do that when her room was call 'Exhibitionist wife' she couldn't guess. 

She announced that she would be on the bed in ten minutes, using a label that appeared floating when people's cursors were over her video. In the room, she typed 'I'm going to enjoy myself imagining you all watching, I won't be able to see you, or see any directions you give, concentrate on describing what you see and what you would like to do, things I can enjoy reading afterward. If I like what you write, I might contact you some time.'

It was a deliberate encouragement ploy, but she was unlikely to follow up any individual, it was the exhibitionist in her that was driving her now! The comments were building up to a sexual frenzy, if it had not been a 'virtual' room, there is no doubt that a massive cum fest orgy would have broken out! She was becoming incredibly aroused by the lewd suggestions being made, there were men and women and some were already on their web cams masturbating, male and female genitalia visible in the most clinical fashion. 

She would definitely try to do some of the things being suggested and at one point went to fetch her vibrators (stupidly forgotten!). She had two, one normal flesh coloured and relatively small vibrator she called her 'torpedo' (always sank her amidships!) and the other was a large vibrating dildo, a huge cock that barely fitted and always needed a lot of lubrication, but was incredibly satisfying. She put them on the bed, realising too late that she would have been seen on camera!

She sat back at the computer and sure enough, they'd seen her, the comments were both lewd and were highly complimentary, but there was no indication that anyone she might know had recognised her! Oddly, she actually felt a little disappointed!

Well, now it was time, she typed it 'it's time' and it was as if a silence had fallen. All typing stopped!

She felt incredibly excited, more aroused than she had ever felt before and the wetness between her legs was testament to that! In some of the stories she had read recently she had thought the descriptions of the flow of a woman's fluids down her legs when she was aroused to be an exaggeration of reality, but she was now so wet it felt as if she had peed herself. Her panties and her thighs were wet to her touch.

She slipped the elastic of the mask over her head and pulled the cats face down over her own and, transformed, she slid catlike onto the bed. She could see the screen and see herself, though small and distant. 

She had a thought and slipped back off the bed again in as feline a manner as she could. She saw that the text window was scrolling very quickly, but deliberately avoided reading comments. She opened the video to full screen and her monitor was filled with a view of her bed and when she slithered back on the bed, it was filled with a pussy cat wearing black bra and panties!

She lay on her front, facing the screen and it was a side view of her that filled it. The profile of her face was hidden by the mask, which she thought was lucky as she had forgotten that the camera was at the side of the bed when she had planned to wear the mask. 

At first she felt a little silly and didn't quite know how to start, but then she thought about the number of people who would be seeing just what she could see on the screen. She pushed herself up onto her elbows and turned to face the camera, turning her head to look at the screen she saw this pussy cat had a deep cleavage, and it deepened as she drew her arms together. 

She decided to waste no time and hooked her thumbs into the bra cups, and with a little difficulty as her elbows were supporting her, she pulled the bra down to allow her breasts to pop out. They hung down but as they were still supported by the bra, her nipples pointed forward. She thought it looked very erotic and hoped her audience approved. 

She twisted around so that her backside was pointing at the camera, spread her knees so that the camera view was through her legs and pulled the bra above her breasts so they were hanging, swinging, and could be seen from the rear. She reached one hand back between her legs and felt the black strip between her round pale buttocks with her fingers, the material was soaked and as she pressed it, it slipped easily inside her pussy lips. 

It felt wonderful and, she thought, it looked deliciously obscene. She had to resist fingering too much as she knew she was right on the edge of orgasm already.

She sat up and pulled off her bra, tossing it away and proceeded to fondle and lift her breasts, massaging them roughly, she tried but failed to reach either nipple with her mouth. She would be able to reach them if she could extend her tongue but the mask prevented it, so she pulled the cats face up above her mouth and this time was able to flick her nipples with the tip of her tongue. 

Her left nipple was more sensitive than her right so she concentrated on that one, holding her left breast up with her left hand she licked and flicked it. Her right hand had stolen down to her panties and she was sliding her finger tips along the barely visible strip of the black panties which were deep in the cleft formed by her swollen pussy lips. 

She had to stop as again she needed to keep her orgasm from engulfing her, but it was closer this time. She nearly went over the edge! 

She reached for her dildo and began licking the shaft with her tongue extended and making exaggerated head movements, she wanted them to know how much she liked to suck and lick cock. 

She slipped her lips over the knob end and pretended it was fucking her mouth, she pushed the dildo so it pressed into the inside of her mouth and could be seen bulging from the outside but realised the cats mask would be hiding that.

Suddenly and almost to her own surprise, she dragged off the cats mask and looked full into the camera! It felt so incredibly liberating and so dirty to be sucking a dildo publically and with her identity completely revealed, she only wished it was a real cock. 

Now she turned back toward the camera and slipped her feet off the bed planting them on the carpet either side of its lens, she checked the view on her monitor and saw it was filled with her upper thighs. Her panties were a black strip like a road between her engorged pussy lips.

She hooked her fingers, elegant pink varnished nails gleaming wetly, under the black satin and dragged the panties out and over her lips to expose the pink wetness of her aroused pussy completely.

She slid the shaft of the dildo between her lips, from widened pseudo ball end to the knob end and back, the shaft glistening wetly. She did this a few times, avoiding her hooded clitoris, it felt so good and she knew if it touched the wrong place -- the right place -- she would orgasm. They would no doubt be begging, or directing, her to insert it in to her pussy, her cunt she thought, and she so wanted to fuck herself with it! She said the words out loud, 'I think I should fuck my cunt with my dildo,' she said, saying the words made her wish she had her audience in the room with her. 

She rested the knob end of the dildo on her pussy, nestling on her soft wet petals, then she began to increase the pressure and slowly the petals parted and the dildo was pressing into her. Stretching her it felt so good, so big, it was filling her. She watched the monitor and saw bubbles in the fluid being squeezed out as the shaft entered deeper and she realised that she could see her face too. 

Her mouth was hanging open, she had been so concentrating and so focussed she hadn't noticed and closed it quickly, strangely more embarrassed about that than about what she was doing! Even lubricated as she was, the dildo was tight, she would not be able to slide it in and out so she left it sticking out obscenely and reached for her 'torpedo. She twisted it on and it buzzed like an angry bee. She touched her nipples with it, but she was too sensitive to be able to stand that, so she rested it against the inside of a leg. Though near but not touching her pussy lips, she felt the sensation reach her clitoris through vibration transmitted through her body. Then the first orgasm hit her and she saw her hips thrusting, her buttocks lifting from the bed, the dildo sticking out of her. 

It was if she were enjoying an explicit porn movie. But this was no movie, this was her, for real, she WAS the porn movie and another wave of her orgasm hit her and another...

To be continued...