3 comments/ 150108 views/ 15 favorites MILFs: Dear, You're Buzzing By: fireballxl5 Hi, it's me again. Cathy. I have to tell you about the last time our coffee club got together after I give you some background about our group. Our group got together initially to talk about church-related items, but evolved into talking about our homes, our families, our histories and our plans. Occasionally the conversation would innocently wander into topics related to sex, relationships before our marriages and relationships with our spouses. One of our group, Pat, was divorced and told us hair-raising stories about her experiences with various men. Although we were all faithful to our men in the strict sense of the word, I'm sure Pat's stories fueled everyone's imagination as much as it did mine. As we continued to meet together, the topic of conversation turned more and more quickly to matters involving sex, and it emerged that we were a bunch of horny, sexy, repressed, middle-aged women obsessed by thoughts of sex. Although we talk about being turned on, our last get-together was the first time that any of us brought up the taboo topic of masturbation. After reluctantly admitting that we all did it, we began to tentatively discuss where, how, and how often. It was terribly embarrassing, but exciting at the same time. Curiosity turned out to be stronger than embarrassment, so each of us had to give up little tidbits in order to learn more about the others, and we were soon all flushed and squirming in our chairs. Then Martha (the most uptight member of our group) surprised us all by admitted to using toys. Sex toys. She reluctantly explained how she came to own a little device called a "pocket rocket." "I don't know what got into Bud," she told us, "but he decided one day that he wanted to try to spice up our sex life. I mean, I don't know what his complaint was – I'm willing to spread myself almost any time he wants it – but somehow he thought that if he bought this thing then somehow it would make us want to do it more. So I said, 'Sure, Bud. Knock yourself out.' He went off and got on the internet and next thing you know, here's a package in the mail from some outfit called "Wet World Devices". He was red as a beet while we opened the package, and inside was a bubble package with stars and lusty-looking women printed on it and inside is this little plastic thing that looked like a kid's flashlight. It was made out of cheap pink plastic and took two AA batteries. "I said, 'My God, Bud. What did you pay for that thing?' "He mumbled something. "I said, 'What?' "Do you want to know what he paid? Twenty-six dollars – twenty bucks plus the shipping. I could have bought the same thing at the dollar store if they sold that sort of thing at the dollar store. 'Bud,' I said, 'you got took again.' "He looked so pathetic standing there, looking down, red faced, and he just kept turning it over in his hands dejectedly, looking like Jack who brought home the beans, so I felt sorry for him and said, 'It's OK, Bud. Why don't you get some batteries and we'll see if it even works.' Well, we put some batteries in and figured out how to slide this ridiculous-looking plastic thing over the top – it had rubbery knobs and little things that looked like pearls stuck on it -- it wasn't like a penis at all, unless it was a penis that had some sort of horrible disfiguring skin disease. We went to the bedroom – this was the middle of the afternoon -- and it was really weird. It wasn't romantic at all. He just gave me a little peck and I got undressed and... " She paused. "This is too embarrassing." "What did you do?" "Tell us." "Come on. It's just us," we coaxed. "OK. Well, I took all my clothes off, pulled down the covers, lay down on the bed, and spread my legs. It was like a trip to the doctor's office. Bud sat between my legs and experimented with turning the thing on and off. It made a very mechanical buzz, and you could feel it vibrating in your hand if you held it. "That's why they call it a vibrator, honey,' Pat interrupted. Martha ignored this and continued. "Bud said, 'I've never used one of these things.' "'Well, I certainly haven't either,' I informed him, in no uncertain terms. "'What I mean is, you'll have to tell me what feels good.' "'Uh, OK. Try something. Try putting it near my clitoris.' So he just put it right on top of the clit and pushed. I hollered and jumped; it felt like I'd stuck my finger in a light socket. "'Oh. SORRY!' he exclaimed wide-eyed. He looked as if he'd just cut my finger off. "'Better let me see that.' I took it from him, and sort of moved it around my vagina lips holding it gently. "That's kind of nice,' I said, and explored a bit more. I moved it up closer to my clit without actually touching it, pushing against the spot between my clitoris and the opening of my vagina. 'Oh, yeah. That's nice. Oh, my goodness yes. Hold it right there.' Oowee! It *was* nice, too. "Bud held it where I told him for a few seconds, but then he started to fool around with it again. He spread me open with his fingers and started to try to cram it inside me. 'No!' I demanded. 'Put it back where it was! Now! Leave it there!!!' Honestly, he's the one who's always telling me down in the shop, 'Let the tool do the work.' So I said that to him. 'Let the tool do the work!' "I don't think he liked that much, because I think he thought he should be doing something. If I didn't need him, well... come to think of it, that's the whole idea isn't it? "I swear, it only seemed to take about fifteen or twenty seconds of that when POW! It was like getting kicked by a horse! I let out a cry and my whole body flinched as this big orgasm just sort of came out of the middle of nowhere and smacked me. I went stiff and then collapsed, slapping his hand away." "Bud and I didn't use it much together after that. I put it in my nightstand, and I think he thought it was a big failure, like an experiment that didn't work. But more mornings than not, after Bud had left for work, I'd go back to bed and get under the covers, and get out my new little toy. I started to get pretty good with it, too. I could tell when I was getting close and then move it away, and sort of move it around myself, teasing myself with it. It felt good on my nipples and butt, too. I'd get good and built up and then put it right on the sweet spot and finish myself off. It was fantastic! If I'd known it was as good as this I would have gotten one a long time ago. "I didn't want Bud to know about this, though – I don't think his ego could take the idea that a dollar store flashlight was as good in bed as him -- so I kept it a secret. I think it was the best twenty-six dollars he ever spent, though. I would have wanted to buy some other toys, too, but I was too embarrassed to do it. "The only bad time was when I took it with me on an overnight flight to Phoenix on church business, you know, planning to get rid of some of the tension when I got back to the hotel room. It was a short trip, so all I took was carry-on. I figured it would just look like a flashlight or something like that on the x-ray machine, so it should have been all right, don't you think? Well, my bag went through the x-ray machine just fine, but when it slid down to the end of the track, some moron businessman in a hurry grabbed his laptop and banged it into my bag. What would you know but the damned thing started up all by itself down in the middle of my bag. It was sitting next to a bottle of shampoo, which amplified it, and my bag started making a loud buzzing, rattling, grinding sound all by itself. "This guy in uniform said, "Step away from the bag, ma'am," and motioned with his arm for assistance. About four guys in uniform gathered around the bag, and he said, 'Ma'am, we're going to have to examine the contents of your bag. Can you describe the item that is making the sound I hear?' "I was so embarrassed, I could have died right there on the spot. I'm sure my face was bright red as I said, 'It's just this thing I use. It's for... It's for... stirring drinks.' "'Stirring drinks... OK.' He glanced at the guy next to him, who was smirking, and when they made eye contact, they both immediately burst out silently in laughter. One turned to look the other way. My guy was actually a nice guy -- sort of good looking too -- and when he regained control of himself he led me over to a table where we could go through the bag without everyone watching. A few of the other passengers must have caught on too, because I heard several people chuckling and whispering to each other. When we found the vibrator, I turned it off. He told me, 'You know, when I go camping, with my flashlight, I usually turn one of the two batteries backwards so it can't accidentally turn itself on. Then when I'm ready to use it, I turn the battery back around. You can even do it in the dark without too much trouble.' "'Thanks for the tip,' I whispered, and almost ran away." "You poor thing." "That must have been mortifying." "Poor Martha," we all said. I took a moment to gather my courage, and said, "I've had a worse experience with something like that turning on when I didn't want it to. Do you want to hear it?" "Yes." "Please." "Tell us." I took a sip of coffee and cleared my throat. "There are times in every marriage when your sex life needs a little change. If you don't try something new, you get into a rut. One time, Frank and I were getting into a rut, and I decided to try something really wicked and out of the blue. "I got the idea reading an article in a women's magazine. At first I thought it was really funny. I read about this woman whose husband is out of town for a month or more at a time. When they'd start... you know... missing each other, they'd get on the phone and say nasty things to each other while playing with themselves." "Yeah. Phone sex," Pat added helpfully. "Right," I said. "They'd have phone sex. But eventually, they wanted to try something a little more adventurous. This woman's husband started looking into different things that are remote controlled. Like there are some that you can hook up to a computer at one end, and the other, uh, you hook up to yourself. The guy on one end can stimulate the lady on the other. Or if there isn't a computer, there are these things like cell phones or pagers, except they're not pagers because they're smooth and egg-shaped and you put them inside yourself with a wire antenna hanging out sort of like a tampon string. When someone calls your number, they buzz. They can even control how hard they buzz. I think gay guys like to put these in their butts." I could tell by their reactions that Pat knew about these things but the others didn't. I could almost hear the wheels turning as they thought about the possibilities. I went on. "Well, I decided to see if these things were real, you know, just because I was curious. I got on the internet and it didn't take me long to find them. But then I saw this other thing that has two parts. One is like a pair of panties, with a thing like a skinny penis sewn onto the crotch with a vibrator built in and a flat area that goes over your clitoris area that has another vibrator. The other unit is like a little bitty walkie-talkie, about the size of a remote for unlocking your car. The guy who holds this can turn the panties on and off and adjust their intensity. He can make the penis thing vibrate inside, or the clitoris vibrate outside, or both. The guy with the walkie-talkie decides when, where, and how intense. "To make a long story short, I shopped around on the net, read a couple of reviews, and when I found a good deal I ordered one, making sure it arrived when Frank wasn't home. Then I thought about the best way to surprise Frank with it. I read the instructions and figured how it all worked together, and then wrote out simplified instructions, something like this. "'Dear Frank, I hope you enjoy this little toy I got for us. You hold in your hands the keys to your wife. You can turn me on when you want to, and you can bring me back down. You can even give me an orgasm in public if you want to. I know I can trust you to be discreet!!!' with three exclamation points. Then I explained how it worked. At the end, I said, 'To prove that this works, when you read this, set it on a light setting and give it a little buzz. I'll raise my hand to show that I felt it. I love you, dear. Remember, this is our secret, so be discreet!' Then, I put the control and the note in an old jewelry box and wrapped it up like a present and waited for the right opportunity to surprise Frank with it. "The opportunity came soon enough. Frank and I were invited to a dinner party with some of his colleagues. It was an informal affair – not dress-up or anything like that. It was the kind of a party where the guys come from work and have their dress shirts unbuttoned at the collar with their ties loosened. Some fairly important clients of Frank's firm would be there. Frank and I were planning to arrive separately so I put on the electric panties under a short cotton sundress and packed a tiny purse like you'd take to a cocktail party, just large enough to hold a few items. On the way to the party I stopped by Frank's office building and had security take the jewelry box up to Frank's office as a surprise. 'That ought to get him to leave work on time,' I thought. "When I got to the party it was already overcrowded for the house it was in. People were milling around with the usual confusion. I didn't know very many of the people there, so I jostled in line to get a drink and then cruised the house looking for anyone I might know. I spent a half an hour without success, and had started on my second glass of wine. "Suddenly, I yelped, almost spilling my wine, as I felt a jolt of electricity. The clitoris stimulator had switched on, much more intense than the mild setting I had requested Frank to use. Remembering our sign, I thrust my arm into the air, looking around for Frank. The buzzing stopped and I put my arm down. Still I did not see Frank. "A second jolt of electricity hit me and again I thrust my arm up while scanning the room. This time I did see Frank, who was just arriving. He looked at me and raised his arm as well in a gesture of greeting, smiling. This time the buzzing didn't stop. The bastard was really letting me have it already. I frowned and made a motion with my hands like, 'Slow down.'. The buzzer diminished significantly, but did not stop completely. I felt a sensation of warmth spread throughout my thighs and loins. Just the thought of feeling this pleasure in front of all these unknowing people! I felt myself begin to lubricate. It was so naughty. "I worked my way over to Frank. I said, 'Mmm... Don't you just love surprises?' "'Yes,' he replied. "'Don't you like being in control?' "'Yeah, sure, honey,' he answered, vaguely. "'How about if you... and me...' -- I was stabbing his chest as I said this – 'how about if we separate, and you can have your little fun while watching me.' "'Uh, sure. OK, I guess.' "'You know how to turn me on, don't you?' I said suggestively. "'I certainly do,' he replied. 'How much have you had to drink?' "'Just a couple of drinks. Why?' "'You just look a little flushed.' "'See how you turn me on?' I replied, knowing he'd appreciate the double meaning. Without waiting for his answer I turned and walked away. I was a bit disappointed, because he didn't really seem to be playing along. He wasn't as involved in this game as I'd hoped and expected that he'd be. I chalked it up to a hard day at the office, and figured that he'd get into our little game more once he'd gotten a drink. Or maybe, I thought to myself, this game just isn't his cup of tea. But just as I was thinking that, the vibrator on the inside began to buzz, and started to grow in intensity. So he was just being coy with me earlier! "This inside stimulator had an entirely different quality. It buzzed at a low frequency, but pulsed in intensity which actually made it feel like something moving around inside me, like a big finger moving in and out. Not the kind of thing to rocket me to orgasm, but a sensation I'd describe as deep, primitive and animal. It made my knees unsure, and I looked for a place to steady myself. I wandered into the kitchen, occupied by six or eight people. I leaned forward onto the island steadying myself with my arms. "Not a moment too soon, either, because as I leaned over the island the bastard turned up the intensity a lot. I don't know how to describe it – it was like having my body hijacked. I became overwhelmed with the intense feeling of pleasure and closed my eyes, giving myself over to it. Come to think of it, 'pleasure' probably isn't the right word. The feelings were too powerful and relentless to be called that. I half-consciously realized that I had begun to rock my hips in time to the thrumming inside me. I knew that anyone watching me would be baffled to see me thrusting my ass out into the room over and over, but I didn't care. With the small piece of rational brain I had left, I trusted Frank to be discreet, and figured he must surely have seen that no one was looking; otherwise he wouldn't be doing this. My mouth dropped open and I began to gasp heavily in time to the throbbing within. I felt myself climbing relentlessly toward orgasm and when I was almost at the peak, I had the presence of mind to take a deep breath lest I scream when it hit me. Then, abruptly the sensations stopped entirely, leaving me stranded almost at the pinnacle. "That bastard! That bastard! I frantically waved my arms upward in a sign of 'turn it up!' but nothing happened. I looked around the room and there was no Frank; just a couple of guys standing right behind me, smirking and staring at my ass. These guys had obviously gotten a kick at my expense, watching me in the throes of lust, and now Frank had ducked away, probably to snicker somewhere out of sight. Oooh! I was going to give him an earful next time I got him alone! I gave the guys who had been staring at me a dirty look, and stomped out of the kitchen to look for Frank. "As I entered the living room, I felt a hand grasp me at the elbow. It was Bob from church. You know Bob. The really good-looking guy? I was as surprised to see him as he was to see me. "We went through, 'Hi, how ya doin', 'Fine, and you?' 'Where's Frank?' 'Are your kids going to be in soccer this summer?' and that sort of thing, but I had trouble keeping up the conversation because the clitoral stimulator had started up again, at a very low level. Eventually a place cleared on the sofa and he inclined his head toward it, at the same time leading me by the elbow to sit and talk. You'll have to excuse me if I'm a little hazy on some of the details here, because the clitoral stimulator was a constant distraction. At first it had been very weak, but very, very slowly it had been climbing. "This was alarming, but at the same time exhilarating. I've never thought of myself as an exhibitionist. To be an exhibitionist you have to make a choice to expose something and then show it to someone. For the same reason, I could never be a sky diver. But if someone put a parachute on me and pushed me out of a plane I think I would enjoy the fall. I just don't think I could convince myself to jump in the first place. In the same way, this was totally out of my control and I figured if Frank wanted to stimulate me in front of Bob it was his business, and I might as well enjoy the ride. "Fortunately, Bob's a talker. I don't think I could have held up my end of a normal conversation. In addition to the clitoral stimulator, the inside part of the device had come on again too, and was pulsing. I kept trying to find a position that was comfortable, but it seemed that every time I moved it would vibrate in a different place – it was driving me crazy. I wanted to scream, it felt so good. My nipples were hard as rocks and I kept smoothing my pant legs with my hands, stroking up and down my legs. I kept rocking my hips, rutting against the cushion of the sofa while breathing heavily through my mouth. MILFs: Dear, You're Buzzing "Although he continued to talk about mundane things, Bob was definitely aware that something very unusual was going on. His face was a mixture of bafflement and charm. He looked at me quizzically, then glanced quickly at my squirming body, then scanned the room to see if anyone was watching. I gazed at him through half lidded eyes, my body rocking and my breath coming in ragged gasps. "I reached for the neck of my dress and unbuttoned a button, and then a second. The vibrator picked up a notch. Fanning myself with one side of the opening in the front of my dress, I panted, 'Do you think it's hot in here?' I lifted the nearer knee onto the couch, spreading my legs so that Bob would have a clear look at my inner thighs. "Bob reddened, and glanced down into the open cleavage I was offering to his gaze, not once, but twice. 'Not really,' he said, 'but you look a bit overheated. Are you all right, Cathy? Is everything OK?' "'Oh, yes!' I answered with a gulp, sounding more eager than I'd intended as the vibrator shifted into high gear. 'I just need to... I just need to sit a bit... a bit longer. Oh! Is that OK? I mean, OH!, is that OK with you? Ohh. Oh my!' "The vibrator was by now so intense that I was sure Bob would hear me buzzing, like an angry bee. My body craved to be touched. I had to be touched. Frantically, desperately, I thought, 'What can I do?' as I panted and climbed, higher..., "...and higher..., "...and higher..., "...until at last the feelings crested and broke as I jumped toward Bob, grabbing his arm and crushing my breasts into his biceps. I rocked my hips and rubbed the sensitive nipples of my breasts into his arm. At the same time, I clenched my teeth and buried myself in Bob's shoulder and cried, 'Oh, shiiittt!' as three separate waves of powerful orgasms exploded inside me. I crushed poor Bob like a tourniquet, squirming against his side while he looked confusedly into the room. "With an act of will, I pushed Bob away almost violently and frantically waved my hands in the air up and down in a motion indicating 'slow down. Slow Down!' but when the buzzing didn't relent, I croaked, 'stop,' then yelled out loud, 'Stop! STOP!!' The buzzing abruptly stopped. "Another thing also stopped: all conversation in the room. Every eye was on me. There was no sound except for Steely Dan on the stereo. For a long moment I glanced around the room, red-faced, then said to the room, 'Steely Dan. I can't stand Steely Dan. Could we play something else?' "Someone hurriedly changed the music; then I thought I owed Bob some explanation. I told him that I sometimes suffered petit mal seizures (which was really a load of crap). It was something like Tourette syndrome, I told him. I would sometimes blurt out a phrase or convulse briefly, and then I'd be OK. It very rarely happened and I was sorry he had to witness it. I asked, 'What did I say?' "Bob blinked and swallowed. Then he glanced down at my still open cleavage. 'You just weren't yourself,' he blurted uncomfortably. 'Just for a moment. It was like what you said. Just for a moment.' He reddened. 'Well, I have to go. Say Hi to Frank for me,' and then he was off out the front door like a startled hare. "For a moment, I considered going to the bathroom and taking this contraption off. But what would I do then? I didn't have a purse big enough to put it in – would I just wander around carrying these strange-looking electronic dildo-ised panties in front of everybody? Even assuming that I was willing to throw it away (and I don't even want to tell you what it cost in the first place), would I just put it in the bathroom trash for people to find and ponder over? Why didn't I just take out the batteries? I swear it never occurred to me. "No. I should find Frank. I stood up and wobbled from room to room. No Frank. Was he playing hide and seek with me? And to make matters worse, the vibrator had started up again. Both the inner and outer parts were set on a low hum. This caused me to walk a bit haltingly, bowlegged, and made it very difficult to concentrate. Every once in a while I would pause, leaning against a door frame or a piece of furniture, willing myself to continue looking. I felt myself wanting to be ravaged, not really caring who did it. I found the host and asked where Frank was. "'He's out in the front yard. He and some of the guys are looking at Billy Boy's new pickup.' "That hit me like a slap on the back of the head. Was he so disinterested in this game that he was just absent-mindedly turning the device on and off to appease me, without even taking the time to see the effects? Wait a minute... "How did I know that he had even received the package? I hadn't given it to him myself. Nothing we'd said at the party mentioned it, in fact, I think it's strange that Frank wouldn't have mentioned it to me. But if he didn't have the controls, why was this thing going off? Most of these people were from Frank's office. What if one of them had intercepted the package? With the instructions I gave, all they would have to do is buzz it once or twice, and when I held up my hand, they'd know who the lady sex toy was. "You know I'm as faithful to Frank as a person could be, but you have to put yourself in my frame of mind. I had been going around all night being stimulated over and over. I had almost come in the kitchen in front of a group of people, and then I had come over and over in the living room next to this gorgeous man. Here I was wandering around in public while the most intimate parts of my body were subject to the whims of a total stranger. What had been mere mechanical stimulation of my body finally wrapped itself around the biggest erotic organ of them all – my brain. I could have gone running to Frank demanding that he take me home, but instead, I got the perverse idea that I had to know who was wielding the controls. I decided to try to catch him and if I had another good orgasm or two in the process, it wouldn't really be my fault. "I started something like a game of hot and cold. First, I wandered from room to room and noticed that the intensity of the device changed as I went around corners. When I ducked into a hall and ran down the hall, the intensity of the signal diminished rapidly and then when I turned to retrace my steps it grew stronger. So the transmitter had a limited range! "I returned to the living room, where the signal appeared to be the strongest. I looked at the men in the room – there were eight or ten – and although several of them looked back none of them tipped their hand. Leaning in the doorway I struck a sexy pose. I ran my fingers through my hair and shook my head in a sexy way, then ran my hand up and down my side while thrusting my hip out. I placed my hand next to my hip, and with my palm facing the ceiling I curled my fingers upward in a gesture that indicated 'turn it up a little.' I was rewarded with a small but noticeable increase in buzzing. Glancing around, I took note of the four or five men whose hands were not both visible. "Then I stepped back into the kitchen, turned my head to look back into the living room, and just as I disappeared around the corner I winked and crooked my finger in the 'follow me' sign. The vibrator went 'bzz bzz' in acknowledgement, then increased noticeably in intensity. "My heart was pounding in my chest. What were the bounds of faithfulness? What was I going to do when I confronted my anonymous lover? Slap him? Scream? Submit? Thank him for a good time? I decided I would chew him out, threaten to tell my husband, and demand that he return the controls to me. I went to the far end of the kitchen and leaned against the counter, facing the door I had come in. Nearby was a door leading to a hallway, with a powder room halfway down the hall. I stood and watched the far kitchen doorway, knowing that my tormenter would pass through that doorway at any moment. "Unfortunately, it was not obvious who my target was. Several men came and went without making eye contact with me at all. I poured a glass of wine and decided to wait him out. The source of stimulation had changed from outside to inside as I waited, and had been growing in intensity again, and with it, I began to lose my tenuous grasp of reason. "The throbbing deep inside became like a living thing. As it pulsated, my knees grew weak. I felt myself swaying in time to the throbbing. I began to crave release. My breathing grew deep, my face flushed, and my eyes grew half-lidded. My God! This guy was really learning how to use this thing! Like water on stone, it only took time and relentless pressure to push me over the edge past all reason, my resolve crumbling under this unceasing attack. "I had not accounted for how thoroughly I could be controlled and used by this device in the hands of a patient man who knew how to use it. Far from planning revenge or a settling of accounts, I wanted this man to dominate me completely, to give up to him a powerful orgasm all his own. I slid weakly against the wall toward the door leading to the hall. I ran a hand across my breast, over my sweating face and through my hair and then extended my arm and once again made the 'follow me' gesture with my finger to no one in particular. Then I staggered down the hall and stepped into the powder room, closing the door. As I closed the door, the stimulator intensity reduced to a steady hum that kept me safely away from the threshold of orgasm while keeping me perpetually turned on. "Inside the powder room I leaned against the sink. I stood listening to my own breathing and the very gentle hum of the clitoral stimulator. What a small sound for such a large effect, I thought to myself. At least, in the privacy of the powder room, I could satisfy my craving for touch. I rubbed my breasts roughly, pinching the nipples, and ran my hands up and down my sides, over my stomach, and over my ass, tossing my head backward, breathing like a horse. "I had almost forgotten about the events of the evening and fancied myself safe and alone when a noise made my heart almost stop. There were three gentle raps on the door. I held my breath. Again, the three gentle raps. With my heart in my throat, I croaked, 'Yes?' "My clitoral vibrator answered the question. 'Bzz bzz.' "I could hear the blood coursing in my ears as I saw the doorknob slowly turn and swing inward. From the dimly-lit hallway the outline of a man materialized and stepped into the powder room with me. I had never seen him before. He was young, about in his mid-twenties, tall and thin with dark hair and deep, liquid Slavic eyes. He regarded me for a moment, and then held the control where we could both see it. He had a gentle voice with an accent that matched his features. "'You like this, yes?' and he boosted the internal vibrator slightly. I was speechless, and glad that I had the sink to lean against. 'I have been enjoying this..., this plaything of yours this evening. You are a beautiful woman. So much sex. So sexy.' He turned the vibrator up. I gasped. "'You will no doubt want this back. I will tell you. I plan to give it to you.' I could hardly concentrate on his words as the throbbing once again took control of me. Here I was standing, leaning against the sink in a little powder room, my ass against the sink, leaning backward in abandon, with the effect that my needy pussy was pushed forward toward this strange man. 'Do you want me to fuck you?' he asked. "I vigorously shook my head no. No way that was going to happen. He smiled lopsidedly, not surprised. 'You are a good woman. Yet you crave release. Do you want me to give you release?' I couldn't speak. Below the waist my buzzing body was unanimous. With the last spirit of defiance I possessed, I pursed my lips and glared at him. He responded by lowering the controls. As the buzzing decreased, my body screamed at me, 'NOOOO!!! You can't let it stop now!!!' My eyes widened in horror, mouth open, and I knew I had no choice. I gritted my teeth and looked down. As if to cement my decision, he began mercilessly to increase the vibrations again, ever so slightly, as if to remind me of the exquisite control he possessed. My mind no longer belonged to my body, and I writhed in front of him. "I couldn't speak for several seconds, my mind and body in conflict. Slowly, guiltily I shook my head yes. Inside a part of my brain was screaming at me, 'Damn it, Cath! Get off now! Light this rocket! I CAN'T STAND TO WAIT ANY LONGER!!!' "He went on. 'You want me to give you these controls, which, I must add, came to me rightfully by an honest mistake. You want me to give you release. But you must also give something to me. You must show me some of your charms. You must take your dress down and show me your charms. You must show me those beautiful breasts of yours.' "I took a deep breath. I tried to think, but the screaming in my head said, 'Let me cum you bitch! Turn me loose! Get me off! Do it! Do it right fucking now! Offer yourself to him!' Looking into his eyes, I slowly, seductively unbuttoned the front of my dress and shrugged the straps of the dress off my shoulders so that I stood facing him in a very pretty little lacy bra. His eyes dropped to my cleavage. I lifted and squeezed my breasts for him. Then I turned to face away from him, giving him access to the clasp on the back of my bra. "His hand caressed my neck, followed the contours of my back and landed with his palm on my ass, which he squeezed. Then, he stepped forward where I could feel his erection pressing into my buttock as he released the clasp on my bra with two hands. As I turned to face him he turned the clitoral stimulator slightly higher. I shuddered. "Holding the two cups of my bra against my breasts with my hands I shrugged the shoulder straps down. Then I stepped forward so that I stood mere inches from him and lowered the bra so that my breasts stood naked in front of him. I cupped one breast in my hand and held it forward toward him in silent offering. Holding my gaze, he slowly leaned his head down and licked my nipple, sending a chill that raced past my stomach to my groin to join the powerful sensations churning there. "I'm ashamed to say that I never gave a thought to Frank as this attractive stranger surrounded my nipple with his mouth and then closed it over the nipple. As he did this I grasped his head and crushed it into my breast as a great wave of passion swept over me. He began to suck powerfully as his other hand took my free breast and pinched and twisted the nipple. I felt my naked breasts bouncing and yielding unrestrained under the control of this man and my mind once again remembered Frank. The memory of all the stimulation and getting off tonight and the craving for sweet release flooded into my mind. At the same time, I realized what a nasty, sexy thing I was doing, letting a stranger maul my naked tits that I myself offered to him freely, my pussy about to explode, in a powder room with my husband somewhere outside. I was enjoying it! These thoughts were all the stimulation I needed to drive me over the cliff. I was beyond screaming. I had a crushing series of whole body orgasms that would have caused me to collapse if the stranger had not forcefully held me upright against the sink. "People talk about getting off in their vaginas, and how that's different and more intense than getting off with their clitorises. I've had it both ways and I can tell you that getting off in this way, because of nipple stimulation is the deepest, most powerful and most memorable orgasm of my life. "I never learned his name, but this persecutor was an honest, if not entirely honorable man. Wordlessly, he returned the controls to me, winked once, and stepped silently out the door of the powder room leaving me alone to compose myself. I was completely spent; otherwise I know I would have slapped him with all my strength. I never saw him again and I never found out how the control got delivered to him instead of my husband; I didn't want to ask." The coffee ladies all spoke at once. "Did you tell Frank? How did this guy get the controls? What did Frank say?" I told them that of course I didn't tell Frank. I went through a long period of feeling terribly guilty for what I thought of as my betrayal of Frank, and of my body's betrayal of me. In the end I decided that it was better for me to carry the secret than for Frank to suffer for no good reason. I hadn't really been unfaithful in a certain sense; the incident had elements of rape as much as it did of unfaithfulness and nothing like this was ever going to happen again. I took comfort in the fact that I had the strength not to go all the way. Although I still think it was a fun idea, I never want to use the device again. The association would just be too strange for me. I knew what the next question would be, but I was surprised by who asked it. Tentatively, Martha caught my eye with a curious look. "So this device... I assume you still have it? Did you ever think of selling it?" "I thought you'd never ask!" I replied with a grin.