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Permission Ch. 01

By: CapnVere



Ch. 1 -- Rarely, one simply has to say yes

"Honey, do you remember the time we were shopping in that cute little town on the north shore, and we saw Nicole and Tom shopping for a party they were throwing?"

When my delicious little wife Angelina asked me this out of the blue, she happened to be mounted upright on my well oiled cock, pressing down astride my pelvis as I lay flat on my back in bed. And she had flat out stopped moving. The old up and down had come and gone, and all I felt was her pussy's tight grip as I lightly fingered er oh-so-velvety outer thighs. I wanted to now what she was referring to, but I was, you might say, a bit distracted. And then came her special trick. Still pressed down hard, impaled as it were on her husband's most urgent need, her inner muscles began to tighten and relax, tighten and relax, like an inverted milking machine invented by Aphrodite herself. Omigod, Omigod. And while she was doing that, I was looking up at the peppiest, firmest pair of breasts in creation.

"Did you hear what I asked, Hon?:" She was talking again. I didn't dare admit that I couldn't care less what she had said. I was fixing a kind of zen concentration about two feet south of that mouth of hers. My cock wanted to tell her to shut up, but my cock wouldn't have to deal with her later.

Then, suddenly, she said, "OK, we need to finish this, don;t we, or I'll never get an answer." Oh no, don't finish. I'm on the backstretch. But no, before I knew it, Angelina's slippery slot was sliding rapidly upward. I didn't think fast enough and bang! there was a breeze on my juice coated organ. 

No, No, sweetheart, not yet. I know I meant to say it out loud, but it came out more like "Nrmphlswat!" But before I could sink in despair, this wonderful little creature had slid down, nestled between my weakened knees and said, "Time to make short work of you. Let me get a taste of that girl juice." And her mouth slid warmly over the head of my cock. I could feel her tongue sliding around the shaft as she moved her head up and down. Slow, fast; stop for a beat and just pump with her hand; Then she backed her mouth off long enough to say, "Mmm, I'd forgotten how sweet my pussy juices can taste after fruit salad for lunch." Then she plunged down one more time till the whole damn thing disappeared and the real sucking/licking began. It wasn't long. 

With that skillful manipulator on me, I soon felt myself hardening and swelling inside her mouth. But she knew the signs, too, and just in time replaced her mouth with her hand, and said, "This one's on me." With her eyes and mouth wide open, and her hands pumping, she made me buck upward as I spurted a huge, thick load that shot up, right into her right eye and hair, trickling down the side of her nose. I know the cum in her eye must've stung, but she kept 0n staring at my cock, just letting it start to drip out. The second and third squirts, not as powerful, landed on her upper cheeks and inside her mouth. then she just stuck out her tongue, and let all of it drip down into her mouth, where it disappeared, never to ne seen again.

"Now, back to my question..." she said, sitting up on her haunches, absentmindedly wiping stray cum into the corners of her mouth with her fingers.

" But what about you. You stopped in mid screw. Let me at least suck you off."

" Oh, forget about that, I'll break out he old rabbit vibrator and do myself later. You can watch, if you want. But for now, I want to know if you remember what happened with Nicole and Tom, and what we said about certain stars." She was already slipping on one of my tee shirts, so I knew the sex was at least on hold. 

"Of course I remember sweetheart." I'd re-told that story God knows how many times to friends, relatives, hell, whoever would listen for several years. Nicole Kidman and Tom Cruise had long since split up, and I'd declared that that settled it for me. The man is definitely gay.

My wife, Angelina, and I had trailed along behind the couple at a discreet distance, as did a few other summer shoppers. This was a "cool" town, and one simply didn't walk up to the occasional passing celebrity and shove a piece of paper in his or her face and ask for an autograph. It was accepted that celebs came here to live like real people, at least for a while.

But we couldn't help gawking at them, her gorgeous, tall figure towering over him, as they picked up a few things, apparently for a garden party (based on what they were purchasing).

This event became kind of iconic for us. My wife agreed that Nicole Kidman was, indeed, stunning, and that she wouldn't blame any man, even a married man, for wanting to "be with her." So Nicole became my symbol of the impossible: spouse approved infidelity.

"If you could have sex with Nicole Kidman," she'd say on appropriate occasions, "I'd understand." Wow, what a concession. That was as likely to happen as a win on the $150,ooo,ooo Mega Million Lottery run in our state. In fact, it was less likely, because if I won the lottery, the check was highly unlikely to take one look at me and run away screaming.

My sweet wife made a few more "concessions" along similar lines, allowing me my best shot with Halle Berry, Cameron Diaz and a few assorted other impossibilities. She was SO accepting, my wife. 

Of course, in return, similar concessions spilled freely from my love besotted lips. My wife is many years younger than I, but she likes more mature men, so I granted her her best shot at Tom Selleck, Sean Connery, etc. This was, of course, not really any more likely for her than for me. We live in humdrum circles in a middle income town, and we talked often of our little brush with fame that day on the north shore because it was such a rare event.

Still, unlike me, Angelina is at least distinctly a "catch." She's thirty-three, but petite at five one and a half, a hundred twelve pounds, she really does still look twenty-three or -four. She devotes herself to looking young and beautiful and succeeds enormously. Her skin is flawless, she has shoulder length auburn hair and is all leg. I kid her about her legs, because it leaves her with a tiny, flat belly that emphasizes her breast size. She's a full C cup, and I kid her that she has no need for a bra because when she has none on, her little, hard nipples "point at the sky." She loves to hear that, because she was raised with a low opinion of her own looks, and every bit of praise goes straight to her heart. And as far as her face is concerned, let's just say, "adorable," and you can fill in your own image.

I hope I don't have to say how lucky I am to have Angelina. She needed a more stable, mature man in her life, and it took me years, literally, to get her to wear outfits that showed her legs, which she used to think were skinny (believe me, they're smooth, curvy and wonderful). And she's never given me any reason to doubt her faithfulness. Every time a man has come on to her, and there have been many, she's told me about it, and she's pretty good at handling it.

Angelina doesn't go out gallivanting "with the girls." We prefer to do things together, and, anyway, she's terrible at finding her way anywhere that she hasn't been to before, so she's very timid about going out without her "honey."

We started a family pretty early. I married her when she was nineteen, just out of high school, and a couple of years later, we had a girl, Daniela. Another, Rose, came two years after that. Now, they're both old enough to be in school and Angelina has returned to work after staying home to raise them. She needed to go to work once they were in school, because the house became lonely for her. Of course I supported her decisions, and I've been able to rearrange my own schedule to be there when the girls are home, most of the time. So we rarely have to use a baby-sitter.

So life has been pretty straightforward for us. Angelina and I (my name is Paul, by the way) live a normal middle class American life. We love our kids, we love each other and the sex, though not as frequent as it once was, is still full of passion and affection.

* * * * *

But life throws you a curve every once in a while and it's how you react to that curve that can determine the course of your days.

It started with Angelina's job. She works not far from home for an organization that provides rehabilitative care to disabled children. She doesn't work directly with the clients, but instead helps see to it that therapists and other care givers are properly assigned and that their work time is tracked and properly compensated. Basically, Angelina is office staff at a place that does very good things, relying almost exclusively on private and government gifts and grants to pay for it. It makes us both feel good that she's involved with an organization like CoBRA (Community Based Rehabilitation and Assistance).

But it's still a job, and she comes home tired each day, often with complaints about workplace pettiness. So it's actually with pleasure that Angelina, once a year, volunteers for the big organizational fund-raising night, known as Celebrity/Community Gala (CCG). It's held each spring. and the well connected heads of CoBRA reach out through mailings and phone contacts to a huge list of local donors, past and hoped for - people with loads of money from the affluent communities in our area. 

To attract these hoped for donations, celebrities are contacted. We live near a large eastern city, so there are plenty of famous types living or visiting nearby, some of whom have made the CCG and Cobra an annual cause, others who have to be solicited each year. Baseball and football players, past and present, authors, show business types. More often than not, they just get their names in the program as "supporters," but some come regularly. And each year, a dinner is held at which these celebs and potential donors are feted generously (the donors paying a high per plate fee, and guests hope to rub elbows with the famous).

Each year, "lowly" CoBRA staff is asked to volunteer as hosts/hostesses, whose main duties are seeing to it that everyone finds his or her seat, and then going about photographing guests with the celebrities. Staff are asked not to chat with the famous, ask for autographs, or otherwise "forget their place." And, of course, I get to enjoy quality time with my daughters.

* * * * *

Which brings us back to the reason for Angelina's reminding me of our old agreement about bedding certain stars. 

This most recent sex session took place the day after CCG, and I hadn't really heard much about the event yet. Angelina had returned rather late the night before, a Wednesday, and all I'd heard before leaving for work the next morning as Angelina slept late, allowed a late arrival following fund-raising night, was a murmured, "Hon, it was the best CCG ever. Wait'll I tell you later."

So here we were in bed on Thursday night, and I was feeling happy too, and Angelina said, "You'll never guess who was at CCG last night, and he talked to ME!"

Like I was about to start guessing the name of every famous person who might conceivably be in town, from second string rockers to radio talk jocks. "That's right, Sweetie, I'll never guess. So why don't you just cut right through all this tension and tell me."

Now, you've got to remember where this story began. Angelina had just managed to pull on a pair of tiny white cotton bikini panties, but otherwise, she was still nude and flushed with her recent exertions, a glow of perspiration making her skin shine like some kind of ethereal being except for the stray spots of semen still hanging from her left eyebrow and ear. And she was staring into my eyes with a new kind of excitement, one I couldn't quite read. She was definitely on some kind of high, but she was also searching my face, as if unsure of me.

"Speak, woman," I said. "Obviously this was more than the usual crew of nonentities and almost-famouses. So who was there?' 

At this point, I have to cut in, because if I tell you the name she actually spoke, you'd definitely recognize it, and for reasons that will soon be clear, that can't be. Let's just say that this year, there'd been several noteworthy show business types, for a variety of reasons, but one in particular, who, for the sake of our story will from here on be referred to as:

" SEAN Faulkner!" After saying his name, my wife's face turned rose red, and the color spread rapidly down her upper torso, until her nipples could no longer be distinguished from her breasts. " Sean Faulkner, Paul, THE Sean Faulkner TALKED TO ME!"

Now, I didn't need any reminding. Sean Faulkner was right at the top of my wife's okay-to-sleep-with-another-man list. He was the strong, quiet, somewhat older type that made her toe knuckles curl under by just appearing on the screen. I knew that this must have been the ultimate thrill. But I know my wife, and I also knew that she probably couldn't put three words together within fifty feet of the great man. So my heart went out to her.

"So, tell me all about it, Sweetheart." As if I had to prompt her. Angelina was sure to tell everyone she met all about it for the rest of her life. So I sat up in bed and prepared for a word-for-word recap. Instead, Angelina cut right to the chase.

"Paul, I want Sean Faulkner to make love to me, and I need you to say it's OK. No, he hasn't asked me, and he probably never will, but please, please, please, if it happens, can I let him? it would only be the one time, but you know how I've always dreamed of him. Oh, please, Paul. You'll never be sorry you let me. I'll make sure of that." 

She said all, of this, I swear, in two seconds. She must have rehearsed it all afternoon at work, while she planned what we'd be doing when she popped the question, the sneaky little vixen. I had to replay the tape in my mind about three times before I was reasonably sure of what I had heard, all the time with her staring deep into my eyes from, like, five inches away.

"Whoa, whoa, wait up, Babe. I know we always said that'd be OK, but we never thought there was a chance in hell you'd ever be in the same building with Sean Faulkner, much less have him want you. What the hell happened last night?"

"Honey, you know I've always fantasized about Sean Faulkner fucking me." So what else is new? Her and half the other women in the Western World. "Oh, Hon, I don't really think anything could happen, but if I don't know I gave it my best shot, I'd go to my grave wondering if I could have. And you wouldn't want me to blame you for my life's biggest disappointment, would you?"

"Slow down, Honeypot. Back up to where you were going to tell me what happened to make you think you should ask me that question. I ask you again, calmly and without anger, what happened at that dinner last night?"

* * * * *

"OK, Paul, here goes. But I can't claim to remember everything, because at first I didn't even realize anything special was going on. Just the usual ushering to seats, photo taking and standing around listening to boring speeches.

"I'd seen Sean's name on the program, but I assumed it was just one of the usual 'sponsors,' there in name only. At least I assumed that until Ginnie slipped up beside me, and whispered in my ear, 'Lina, your lover's here.' I thought she meant you, until I saw that she was looking toward the table nearest the dais, and I saw him. I swear, my knees nearly gave way. Of course, Ginnie knows about our deal with Sean. I tell that story to all my friends, so it must have been a kick for her to point him out to me.

"Seems his son by his first wife has some rare handicap, and he's always doing fund-raiser spots out on the Coast. Now he's here shooting locations for his latest action movie, and someone from CoBRA knew enough to give him a call. And there he is." I could see that even Ginnie had a crush on him by the way she was talking. 

"Through the early evening, I'd glance across the room at him, but it never seemed to work out that anyone was assigned to me to be brought to him for a picture. I think the boss did that on purpose. But after a while, a guy from one of my tables was going to get a picture with some boxer named Lee or Leo something-or-other, who was at a table right next to Sean. I escorted this guy over, and it was the hostess's job to wait about a minute, then gently escort guests away from the celebrities, so the celebs wouldn't be swamped. While I stood waiting, I thought I felt a bug or something on my leg. I HAD to be cool, but I looked down behind me and saw that the 'bug' was the tips of some drunk's fingers. I bent my leg away, and whispered to him, 'Watch it, Mister.' But instead of stopping, this idiot put his whole hand on the back of my leg and started to slide it under my skirt. I didn't want to make a scene, but I couldn't just let him.

"Then, suddenly, a hand appeared on the drunk's forearm and a familiar voice said, very forcefully, 'You didn't come here to cause this little lady any trouble, now did you?' It was Sean. I looked in his eyes and my knees buckled. I had to grab the back of a chair or I would have been on the floor. The guy immediately apologized, not to me, but to 'Mr. Faulkner' and got up and headed for the bathrooms.

"All I could get out was, 'Thank you so much.' And I rushed back to my post. I thought that was it.

"More than an hour later, I took an old lady over to Sean for a photograph. But she wasn't leaving, and at first I couldn't coax her. I could see she was being very annoying, but Sean was the complete gentleman. Then I had an idea. 'Mr. Faulkner,' I said, 'I can't let you spend so much time with this charming guest. I understand they've been holding an important call for you.' With this, the lady backed off, and as I left with her, I glanced back. Sean winked at me. He had taken the hint and was talking into his cell phone."

Frankly, by this point I was getting bored. And I hadn't forgotten that my little ones were in their room, presumably doing homework that I should check on. Meanwhile, it didn't much sound to me like Sean Faulkner was hot for my wife. So, "OK, Ange, when does this get interesting?"

"It got interesting about fifteen minutes later when I heard that same deep, gravely voice in my ear saying, 'How about a dance, beautiful?' Yes, it was Sean, and he did call me that, and when I turned and saw his face maybe three inches away, I did one of my famous blushes.

"Wow, that's some blush, Angelina [he knew my name, somehow!]. Looks like it's spreading down toward your feet."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Faulkner. It's just...It's...How do you know my name? What did you call me before that? We can't dance with guests. How...Dance? Anyway, it's a slow dance. I don't usually slow dance with strange men. Dance? How...?" I was talking 'way too fast. He just smiled. I melted.

"After you saved me back there, I asked about you, and I got permission to dance. If you'd look over at your boss, you'd see." I did and she smiled and nodded to me. "And I know it's a slow dance. I was waiting for the band to change pace. I stopped doing the wild stuff years ago. Anyway, we can talk better in a slow dance, and I think we should talk. Oh, and what I called you before, Angelina, was 'Beautiful,' because you most certainly are. Now, shall we dance?"

"I'll collapse."

"I assure you that I will not let that happen. If you feel weak, just lean on my shoulder and I'll hold you up.

"Now, how could any woman say no to that?"

"No, Sweetheart, I wouldn't expect you to. So, this is where it begins, huh? He dances you out to his limo and takes you in the back seat. Did you at least enjoy it?"

Angelina gave me a stunned look. "Honey, this whole thing started with me asking permission. Do you think I'd ask after doing it? I owe you better than that.


Permission Ch. 01



I thank Respeito for awesome editing and advice. Also hwwannabe and fire_breeze for helpful suggestions on earlier drafts. This work is copywrite lakesailer_mi.

Part 1

Kristin lay awake in the dark night, her sex tingling while her husband snored beside her.  Their lovemaking earlier had been good. Not great, certainly not bad, and unfortunately, that was the problem. It was good, but she just felt that something was missing. In fact, she sighed, in the dark, she knew what was missing. She hated to admit it, even to herself, and certainly to anyone else, but she needed to be desired, and taken, and wanton, and slutty. The last thought sent shivers up her spine and then back down, causing her sex to ache.

God, she thought, I'm such a slut. She almost hissed the word out of her mouth as the thought made the ache in her crotch nearly unbearable. She had always been good: had saved herself for marriage; had not been a tease; had always dressed modestly, or with just the slightest hint of sexuality. But secretly, in her bedroom at night, Kristin would masturbate to fantasies of being slutty. Of being so desired by men that she could pick and choose and indulge her fantasies at a whim. And what fantasies: being ravished by a strong man who takes her in every position and every hole. Or the one where she ties a man to the bed, fucking his face and then his cock until his grows limp; taking her pleasure from him until she is satisfied. Or better still, being at a crowded dance bar, where men surreptitiously fondled her. Finally catching the one she wanted in the act and taking him to the dark corner of the room, where she let him finger her and fuck her.

Kristin's practiced fingers worked her pussy furiously while her imagination worked overtime until she exploded, barely controlling the waves of pleasure convulsing her body.  She purred with relief as she rode the last wave and her hand slid to her side.  Her satisfied purrs gave way to an exasperated sigh. What was she going to do? Now that she was married, it was so hard to get fantasy time, and now that she had tasted sex, real sex with a real man, she wanted it even more and her fantasies were even stronger.  God, she thought in frustration, why had she not whored around when she was young and gotten it out of her system. 

Her attraction to Mark was both physical and mental. While he was not tall, he was powerfully built and more importantly, he was a strong and decisive man. When they were dating, she had fantasized about him taking her, using her, fucking her hard and deep. She had hoped and believed that it would be that way when they were married. But somehow, contrary to everything else in his life, he was timid and reserved in the bedroom.  The dominant, take what he wanted, man she saw in public seemed to evaporate somehow when it came to sex.

Kristin was still lying there, sleeplessly despairing her situation about an hour later. Her mind had started down the road of fantasies again and again, and she kept reining it in, worried that if she let go again, her sleeping husband would wake and catch her. He had caught her masturbating once, on their honeymoon.  He had gone for a walk, leaving her "napping" in the hotel room. She had been in a state of nearly constant and apparently insatiable arousal since the wedding. Being at a beach resort, with many bathing suit clad men and wearing an amazingly revealing bikini herself had kept her on edge nearly all the time. Mark was willing to have sex once, maybe even twice each day. About 1/10 the number of times she would have chosen. She had lost track of both time and the number climaxes she had achieved during his walk and was surprised and embarrassed when he walked in her. She remembered gasping and trying to make it look like she was just waking. Mark seemed embarrassed too, but he never mentioned it. During their lovemaking that night he had been a little more energetic, she had thought. But she had never been sure.

As she remembered being caught, another fantasy invaded her mind: a lover who demanded that she masturbate while he watched.  She imagined lying, her knees spread apart, on a bed, while he sat in a chair, his rigid cock in his hand. In her mind, sometimes it was Mark - she often fantasized about him too - and sometimes it was a friend or neighbor. Most often it was a stranger, a man she had seen on the street, or a workman.  She imagined obeying his orders to touch herself, to tease her clit and penetrate her tunnel with one or more fingers. She couldn't really control herself, and hoping maybe she could sleep after, she began to obey the imaginary man's orders, her fingers again finding her wet, swollen sex.

Lost in her mind and body, Kristin did not notice her husband waking and silently watching as she masturbated.  She was using two hands, fingers on her clit and others buried in her tunnel when she erupted, biting her lip to suppress the moans she desperately needed to give birth to. And then, he whispered in her ear "come for me, baby." The low, deep whisper surprised her and she just exploded, unable, unwilling to hold back, her orgasm rocked through her body like an earthquake.  She was beyond caring about embarrassment or what he would think, her body took over and she let it. 

As her breath began to return to normal, Kristin's embarrassment and worry flooded her mind. She stammered "Oh, god, Mark...I'm...I'm sorry to have woken..." 

He cut her off before she could finish "shhhhh, baby that was so hot. I've wanted to catch you, to watch you, ever since that first time on our honeymoon."  She was stunned.  Her mind could not even process what she was hearing. Not only was Mark not angry, but he seemed happy.

"Why?" she asked. 

Mark cleared his throat, "Well, I know you do. I've actually kind of caught you a couple of times, I just didn't know what say. K, I just want you to be satisfied. And it's tough for me to say this, but I guess I don't have the overwhelming interest in sex that you seem to. Oh, don't get me wrong, I love having sex with you, but you seem to think about it all the time. I suspected this when we were dating.  That under that rather demur front was someone who was very passionate. I had no idea how passionate" he sighed.

Kristin didn't know what to think. "Oh, Mark, I'm sorry, I don't mean to be so...so...wanton and slutty." She was a little turned on to say that to him. "I just, I have always fantasized about sex. About being desirable and having ...a man...desire me shamelessly" she decided not to admit to desiring many men, at least not yet.

"Kristin," the tenderness and love in his voice was unmistakable, "I love you and desire you more than any other woman I've ever met or dreamed of. Please don't mistake my low libido for a lack of desire for you. I think it's just that my career is demanding, and I was never the type guy to look at Playboy and ogle women. I guess, I'm just not wired that way. But I really love you, and I want you to be completely satisfied in our marriage. If you need to masturbate, " he paused and his voice was a whisper "or whatever, you should."

Kristin could see his eyes, looking at her in the dark. Her mind was racing: "or whatever?" Did he mean what she hoped? Or was that just a euphemism for masturbate and simply an embarrassed redundancy?  Was he hinting at permission for her to explore fantasies with other men? Did he know that was what she craved? Was he giving her permission?

Licking her lips and swallowing hard, Kristin tested the water "Mark, I have..." she paused "these fantasies." Almost gulping she continued "About other ...." 

Again, Mark cut her off "shhhhh, I think I know. I don't want the details. Just promise me two things. That you will always come home to me and that you will be careful."

Her stomach flip flopped. She could not believe it. And then worry invaded her mind. She knew this was totally unfair, but the idea of him being with anyone else was so hurtful. She could not give him the same permission. She knew it was selfish but she had to know the rules. If this gave him permission too, she couldn't do it. She took a deep breath "but I can't give you the same permission. I don't want to share you." She bit her lip; her stomach in knots, worried that she could even lose him for this.

"I told you, I love you and desire you more than any other woman, I don't need anything more than you and what we share." She could tell the next part was painful for him. " I can tell that you need something...extra."  He sighed. "I've thought about this a long time, and I'm OK, as long as you follow my rules. You always come home to me and you are safe about it." More quietly, "and I don't want the details, or anything."   

Kristin and Mark lay in silence for a few moments. And then spoke "I love you so much, more than any other man in the world. I will always come home to you and stay safe." They embraced in the dark and both had soon fallen into slumber.



Permission Ch. 01



"So, how does this work?" he asked, huskily.

"Like this," she slipped her phone out of her handbag, and held it up, grinning a goofy grin that made his stomach do a little flip. He grinned back and deliberately held her gaze as he leaned forward and kissed one of her nipples with a soft, open mouth. She jumped a little, then shook her head in mock severity while she held down a button on the phone. They heard a tiny *ding* and she spoke into the mouthpiece: "Call home." 

Their eyes met and he had to laugh. "Seriously?" he said, "Siri at a time like this ..." 

She held up one finger, touching his lips, "Hands free, baby ... Oh ... hi, honey! Yes, I'm here. Yes ... I used Siri to call ... you know me too well! I know, I will ... yes ... yeeess ... very nice, very hot ... he's looking right at me." She smiled and traced his mouth, pulling down on his lower lip slightly. "He's gorgeous. Yes, I know, I will ... I promise. Yes, I'll do that, too. I'll tell you all about it later. Now fuck off and let me get my freak on." She laughed. "I love you too." She tapped the phone with her thumb, turning it off. "Now where were we?" She slipped the bag off her wrist and set it aside, cupping his face in both hands, tracing the lines of his mouth and jaw, staring at him. 

He swallowed hard. "Something about a freak getting ... on?" 

Sam felt dizzy. This wasn't like last year's convention at all. Not one single bit. He had been sitting in the bar after a long day, staring into his drink, passing time before heading to bed. He'd had a nice conversation with the bartender, Ray, about work and conventions and the two types of people who usually attend: the ones who treat conventions like Spring Break, and the ones who have actually moved past college and just want to work, maybe see a few sights, enjoy the new city. Sam was the latter, but he and the bartender had amused themselves for quite a while with stories of past conventions. But, it was getting late, and Ray seemed more interested in whoever he was texting than in continuing the conversation. 

Sam finished off his drink, set it down, and was reaching for his jacket when he noticed the woman at the end of the bar. She was staring right at him, a tiny smile on her lips, but it was her eyes that made him stop. They were smoldering. He had heard the term before, but he had never quite got the image until now. Her gaze had weight; he could feel her appraisal -- and approval -- as she lifted one slender arm to touch her strawberry blonde hair to make sure everything was still perfect. It was, she was, and she smiled as if she knew the effect she was having. She pursed her lips for a moment, then came to her decision.

The bartender grabbed his empty glass, "Sure you don't want another, pal?"

Sam couldn't speak. 

She smiled and slid gracefully off the barstool, a tiny beaded handbag dangled from one wrist. Her other hand trailed along the counter as she approached, like a bather dangling her fingers in a lake before plunging in. "Hi," she said, "I'm Amy." Sam stared at her, his jacket clutched to his chest protectively.

"Buddy?" The bartender tapped his empty highball against the the bar. It was enough.

"Yes, yeah, sure, I'll have another, thanks ... and, uh ... would you like to join me, Amy?" 

She smiled warmly, "Yes, I would, thank you very much."

Sam smiled back, "And another one for my friend here,"

The bartender chuckled, "Good call, my friend. Your usual, Amy?"

Amy grinned, "You know me, Ray." 

They smiled and laughed like they shared some kind of secret, but Sam didn't have much time to think before Ray was back with their drinks. He fumbled a few bills from his wallet and slid them along the counter ... "Keep the change," Amy had already looped one arm through his, her other hand balancing her drink as she pulled him toward the back. 

"A booth, we need a booth, Sam."

He grabbed his drink, trying not to spill while she steered him through the tightly packed tables. He fumbled with his jacket, shooting one last "can-you-believe-this?" look back at Ray, who was following their progress with an amused smile and a shaking head. "A booth? We need ... we do?" said Sam.

"Indeed! A booth, we need, we do!" she said, laughing "Here we are!" They were in the back of the lounge, in the darkest shadowy part, in front of a small circular table with a deep red wraparound padded fake leather bench. Classic dive-bar décor. She slid in gracefully, her close-fitting dress was some sort of sparkly gray and silver material he didn't recognize, but it slid enticingly up her thighs as she scooted to the back. She patted the seat next to her, and smiled. He sat at the edge of the bench.

"Scoot!" she said. He scooted. "A little closer?" He scooted some more, until his thigh pressed against hers beneath the small round table. They set down their drinks at the same time, smiling at each other, half lustfully, half amused, as the silence stretched out just a little too long. She was toying with her glass as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. Sam suddenly wondered if he had completely misread some signals and he was preparing to apologize when Amy took a large swig of her drink, set it down and said, "OK, here's the deal. I think you're incredibly attractive and I want to have sex with you, but, you have to know the rules and the situation first." 

Sam just stared at her. He didn't know what to say.

She continued, "I'm married, in case you missed the ring," she waggled an impressive wedding set on her left hand. "And while we're not exactly swingers, and we're not poly either, we are what we like to call ... flexible." Amy smiled down at her glass, tracing the rim with one finger before lifting it for another sip.

"Flexible?" said Sam, "What ..."

"What that means," interrupted Amy, "is we occasionally allow, even encourage each other, to pick up an attractive stranger and just fuck the living daylights out of them. Play time. Fun for all!"

"A -- attractive stranger?" said Sam.

"That's you, in case you missed that part," Amy slipped one hand beneath the table, placing it lightly on his thigh, moving her hand slowly up and down.

"Oh, uh ... thanks? I gue ..." Sam's stopped mid-sentence when her hand moved higher, gently but firmly caressing his groin for an exquisitely long moment before slipping back into its soothing rhythm on his thigh. "Oh ... god ... I ...." 

Amy leaned forward and whispered into his ear. "Are you hard?" Sam couldn't help but notice that when she leaned forward that way her breasts got all pushed together in that sparkly dress and bumped up warm against him in the most exquisite way. He could see the faintest outline of her nipples against the sheer fabric of the dress. Her breath was hot against his ear and his neck. "Sam ... are you hard? Did I make your cock hard when I touched you?" 

The question trailed off into a long hot exhalation that made his mouth completely dry. But he knew what he wanted to say. He grabbed his glass, took a drink, then another, then set the glass down and turned toward her, moving so his lips were just brushing her temple. He was taller than her. He could see the smooth curve of her forehead, her dark arching eyebrows, and two deep blue eyes that glanced upward through a fringe of eyelashes. Her lips were poised in the tiniest smile. 

"Yes, Amy. I am hard as a rock. Tell me more about this deal." He let his lips graze her forehead then, gratified when her eyes closed and she tilted back her head to accept this caress. He reached up one hand to lightly touch her neck, and bent his lips down to hers, kissing her lightly at first, and then more deeply. He felt her pulse flutter on her neck as he pulled away, and he touched it, trailing his fingers slowly down, following pulse to tendon, tracing the cup of her collarbone, then following the line to her arm, down to the hollow of her elbow, her wrist, the palm of her hand. She shivered as tiny goosebumps rose beneath his touch. Her eyes opened. 

"I'm glad," she said warmly. And he could see she was. For a moment he saw past the lust and the poise and the sexy silliness of the situation and he saw her as a next door neighbor and a friend. He could see himself happily barbecuing with this woman and her family. He could see them being friends. He shook his head, bemused. 

"I'm glad too," he said. They sat there smiling at each other for a minute, until her hand renewed its exploration of his thigh. He saw her eyes darken again in lust, as he felt her fingers slide up again to cup his aching cock. He saw her lips purse in some weird combination of smile and snarl as she carefully traced his length, finding the tender point just under the tip, and rubbing her thumb slowly along the ridge. Sam bit back a groan as his cock pulsed in responses. "Did you feel that?" He asked. She smiled and bit her lower lip almost shyly, and nodded. "Do you feel how hard my cock is right now, Amy?" She smiled even wider, as he leaned closer and placed his lips next to her ear, breathing out as he asked, "What do you want me to do with this cock, Amy? Do you want me to fuck you with it?" his tongue darted out, lapping hotly at her ear for a split second. He heard her gasp. "Do you want to suck it, Amy? Do you want me to bury it in your pussy and fuck you until you scream, Amy?" Yes, her breath was definitely getting quicker, as was the hand rubbing his aching bulge. "Do you want me to spread you wide open with my tongue and eat that pussy, suck on your little clit and shove my fingers inside your snatch until you forget where you end and I begin? Do you want me to suck you and fuck you until you cum and cum and cum and keep cumming so many times you lose count? Do you want me to do that to you, Amy? Do you want that?" He punctuated every other sentence with a gentle nip on her ear.

He knew he was on the right track because her hand had stopped moving on his lap. She was sitting there, frozen, squeezing his cock, eyes closed tight, panting between slightly parted lips. Her body was arched, breasts thrust toward him, nipples poking shamelessly at the slithery fabric. The folds of her dress spilled along her curves like molten metal, pooling darkly in the places he most wanted to explore. She was mesmerizing. Sam pulled back and just looked at her, touching her hair where it had spilled out of its loose knot at the nape of her neck, damp with his breath, giving her a moment to come back to herself. Watching her eyes reopen was like watching her wake on a lazy Sunday morning, knowing they had the whole day to themselves. He could seriously get lost in that blue. He smiled.

She smiled lazily back. "Sam, that sounds lovely. Shall we go upstairs? I know you have a room, but let's go to mine. I rented it just for this." Suddenly full of energy, Amy stood, grabbing his hand to haul him out of the booth.

"Wait a second there, hold on! I've got a little ... problem to deal with." He couldn't exactly go through the lobby pitching a tent in his pinstripes. Amy laughed and grabbed his jacket, shoving it into his hands and toward his crotch. 

"I want you to keep that cock the way it is. Cover up with your jacket -- just like middle school!" She laughed and started to slip away, but he was too quick, grabbing her by the waist with both hands. 

"You are heartless," he murmured into her belly. 

"I know," she said, her fingers tangled in his hair. She softly ground her hips, pressing herself closer while he kissed and nuzzled and explored. "What are you doing?"

"Looking for your belly button," he muttered, kissing and nipping randomly, as if hopelessly inept in the art of navel location. She giggled, closing her eyes, and gave a tiny sigh of contentment. 

"Oh!" he said. 

"What is it?"

"I think ... I'm almost there ..." he paused dramatically for effect, "... it's ... right ... about ... here!" he quickly nuzzled his nose into the little hollow, making her laugh, but at the same time she felt his fingers slip beneath her skirt, sliding up the soft skin of her inner thigh, slowly, deliberately delving up and up and almost to her core, then stopping short. Close, so close he could feel the heat radiating from that spot. Her thighs parted, and he turned his wrist, cupping her, the heel of his hand pressed tantalizingly into that sweetest spot. She wasn't wearing any panties. 

Her low animal groan cut through the quiet lounge, loud enough that the few other patrons paused in their conversations and looked up, curious. Ray smiled, but didn't look up from polishing and arranging glasses at the bar. "Oh, shit, mister," Amy said, a little breathlessly, "you'd better get me outta here fast!" 

Sam grabbed his jacket and held it awkwardly in front of himself, his other hand outstretched, "After you!" She smiled and twined her fingers through his, leading the way. 

The elevator ride was a blur, and then they were in her room, scrabbling for the Do Not Disturb sign and fumbling with the chain. He had her pressed against the door then, kissing her deeply and roughly as he had wanted to from nearly the moment she approached. 

"Wait, wait ..." she muttered against his lips, "I wanted to finish explaining ... to be clear ... just so you can make a .. ahhhh ..." his lips had found her nipple through her dress, and he was frantically worrying it with his teeth and lips. Her breath hissed between her teeth, and he felt her thighs clamp desperately around one of his, shamelessly humping his leg before jerking herself away .... "No! Wait!" she grabbed his hair and dragged him up to kiss again, laughing, alternating kisses with words of gentle admonition, "You ... just ... wait ... a minute ... mister."

He laughed, and wrapped his hands around her waist, carrying her over to the small loveseat. He sat, bringing her down with him so she was straddling his lap, facing him, her hands still buried in his hair. Her eyes were soft and she smiled dreamily, her hair had fallen out of its clip and fell in tangled curls around her shoulders. 

"So tell me, woman, what am I getting myself into? But you'd better make it fast, because you are killing me, and I only have so much patience." 

"OK. My husband and I -- we like to play -- with others and with each other. Sometimes we'll encourage one another to go out and pick up a stranger, hook up with them. Sometimes we'll have threesomes, sometimes we'll watch, sometimes we'll just go out alone and then tell the other about it later. It's an awful lot of fun."

"I'll say," said Sam, fiddling with the straps of her dress.

"Be good," said Amy, but she didn't stop him from playing, running the straps delicately between his fingers, causing the top of her dress to slip dangerously lower. "So first, I have to check in with my husband, to let him know I'm OK and safe. Then I'll check in periodically. He knows what room I'm in, and if he doesn't hear back from me within a certain amount of time he'll come to get me." Her eyes were serious. "Got it?"

"Yes. It sounds like a reasonable plan. Safety first, huh?" 

Amy smiled, "Yep, safety first!"

They sat there for a moment, just looking at each other. "You've got quite a marriage," he said. 

"I do, I'm lucky, we're lucky," she said.

"But what if ..." he stopped, "nah, never mind. Premature question. I'll ask you over breakfast ... if I live that long." he laughed.

"No, really ... what's your question?" 

"Don't fret about it, sweetheart -- it can definitely wait until later. Now how do we get back to the part where the clothes start coming off?" His hands had begun moving again, sliding around in the slippery fabric of the dress. His breath caught as the movement caused her top to finally fall away from her breasts. Her nipples were tiny, rose pink and hard as rocks, and she arched her back as his hands slid slowly around her ribcage to gently cup each breast, pressing them together, rubbing his thumbs slowly around the goosebumped edges of her areolae. 

"I've just ... aaahhh," she murmured as the tip of one thumb grazed a nipple, " ... just got to check in ..." 

"So, how does this work?" he asked, huskily.

"Like this," she slipped her phone out of her handbag, and held it up, grinning a goofy grin that made his stomach do a little flip. He grinned back and deliberately held her gaze as he leaned forward and kissed one of her nipples with a soft, open mouth. She jumped a little, then shook her head in mock severity while she held down a button on the phone. They heard a tiny *ding* and she spoke into the mouthpiece: "Call home." 

Their eyes met and he had to laugh. "Seriously?" he said, "Siri at a time like this ..." 

She held up one finger, touching his lips, "Hands free, baby ... Oh ... hi, honey! Yes, I'm here. Yes ... I used Siri to call ... you know me too well! I know, I will ... yes ... yeeess ... very nice, very hot ... he's looking right at me." She smiled and traced Sam's mouth, pulling down on his lower lip. "He's gorgeous. Yes, I know, I will ... I promise. Yes, I'll do that, too. I'll tell you all about it later. Now fuck off and let me get my freak on." She laughed. "I love you too." She tapped the phone with her thumb, turning it off. "Now where were we?" She slipped the bag off her wrist and set it aside, cupping his face in both hands, tracing the lines of his mouth and jaw, staring at him. 

He swallowed hard. "Something about a freak getting ... on?" 

"That sounds about right," she drew his face forward and their mouths met in a rush. Her arms wound quickly around his neck, desperately, as his arms went back around her waist, one moving up to cradle the back of her head, the other moving down to smooth the curve of her hip. Their kiss deepened, lips, tongue, teeth moving together in exquisite pressure, sliding, inflaming and goading each other into a frenzy. Her hips rolled and bucked as she pressed herself desperately against the bulge in his pants. He could smell her. It was intoxicating. He didn't know how much longer he could wait. He slipped both hands beneath her ass and stood quickly, crossing the small room in two quick steps as he dumped them both onto the bed. She laughed, and her arms fell back and above her head to the coverlet, then reaching out toward his face again for more kisses, but he had other plans. 

His hands were still on her waist and he pulled her to the edge of the bed, kneeling on the floor between her slightly spread legs. She lifted her head; her eyes glittered. She propped herself up on her elbows so she could see him more easily, arching her back so her breasts were shown to their best advantage. 

"God, woman, don't make me choose between your pussy and those tits right now, I might go crazy," he muttered. She gasped and coyly slapped her arms over her breasts, falling back onto the bed. 

"Don't worry -- these will be here for you later." She curled up again and gave him the most wickedly sensual grin he had ever seen, "Now get back between my legs and show me what you can do!"

"Yes ma'am," he needed no other encouragement. He placed a hand on each perfect thigh, loving the contrast of his tan fingers against the startling white. "You're a real red head, huh?" She giggled, but said nothing. She was having a hard time keeping her hips still. He slid his hands upward, touching her hipbones with his fingertips, then bringing them together above her pubis, slowly drawing them down to the slit between her legs. Her hair was trimmed, but no waxing, which he thought was a nice change. The hair was very red and glistening with moisture. Her outer lips were puffy and bright pink, almost like they'd been slapped. His penis surged at the idea of what she might look like draped over someone's knee, a bright red handprint standing out against that perfect white ass ... Later! He drew himself back to what was in front of him. This woman, Amy, if that was her real name even, had chosen him to share this experience. It was the most erotic ... and the most humbling thing he could imagine. He wanted to get this right ... he wanted to savor it ... to make her feel bliss ... to make her fall apart in his hands in ecstasy ... to make her remember him. He wanted to remember her, too.




Permission Ch. 01



Her inner lips were long -- longer than he'd seen before and it was indescribably sexy. They were almost purple, and soaking wet, draping themselves open between her legs like an exotic flower. Some vague notion about Georgia O'Keefe came to mind, but he let it go, because now he was leaning forward, inhaling her scent, spreading those lips with his fingers, and lightly, ever so lightly, placing his lips upon her in that most intimate kiss. He heard a tiny cry from above, and her hips jumped. Then she sighed, and her legs relaxed and spread apart a little farther, inviting him in. He touched his tongue softly to her clit. It was already standing at attention, and he felt he should at least acknowledge it. But he wanted it to last, so he moved down, running his tongue up and down along her slit, tracing up and down each side, massaging and circling and sucking as he went. The teeth came out too, just a little bit, a tiny nip every so often to make her gasp and giggle then groan, which was invariably followed by a fresh surge of wetness from her, filling his head with her scent until he felt he was surrounded by her. He increased the speed of his tongue, increasing the pressure, pressing in from the sides with his fingers so the outer lips were pressing her inner lips together, and he had to force his tongue in. She liked that. She liked that a lot, because she called out a name -- his name, he couldn't tell -- but she rose up from the bed for a moment, hunched over, staring at him hazily through her half closed eyes before murmuring "more," and smiling, slipping backward to let him do his work. 

He couldn't wait any longer -- he needed to bring her to that peak -- he wanted to watch her cum -- to call his name and cry and thrash her head back and forth until she subsided into quietness. And then he wanted to do it again ... and again ... as long as she would have him. 

Sam moved his hands again, one from the top, holding her open so her clit was fully exposed. The other slipped between her legs, where he entered her slowly, so slowly, circling her hole with careful deliberation, letting her know his intent, and when he felt her response, when he felt her hips lift up and felt her opening, if it was possible, even more than before, he deftly plunged two fingers deep into her molten core, while at the same time capturing her clit with his lips, suckling at it like a nipple, grinding his face against her, his nose, chin, cheeks all pressing, engaging ever nerve and surface which had sprung to life all at once. 

Amy lifted her hips completely off the bed and she wailed, a long, open, lonely sound, a hungry sound that trailed into a soft series of gasps and "oh, oh, ohhhhhs." Sam felt a fresh surge of wetness from her, and felt the frantic thrumming of her muscles as she worked her self against him -- his mouth, his fingers pressing deep inside, his tongue, soothing her electrified flesh. She was quivering, her hips still arching spasmodically off the bed, still pressing against him, and so he stayed there. He listened to her murmuring, "oh, oh oh ..." and " ... yes ..." over and over like a mantra or a prayer. He waited, watching the slowing of her hips, listening to the changes of her animalistic cries as they diminished into soft murmurs of contentment. Then a sigh ... and her muscles relaxed. "Ohhhh ...." she said again, "oh, Sam ..." 

That was what he had been waiting for. He gave her one last lingering kiss on her sweetly gaping cunt, and moved up to lie next to her on the bed. Her face was covered in sweat, bright red, her hair tangled and all over her face. She grinned at him sweetly between the tendrils and opened her arms to draw him near, "kiss me." and he did.

The kiss was slow and sweet and comforting. "Thank you," she said, "oh, thank you." She turned on her side and threw a leg over his hip, pulling him closer. "God, I can't -- oh, man -- Sam!" She grabbed his head and looked him in the eyes. "Sam! Oh my god! What was that?! Are you always that amazing?" 

He really didn't know what to say, just that he was suddenly very aware of her body pressing against his penis, which had suddenly reasserted itself into the situation. "Oh, Sam," she smiled. "I think we have some unfinished business, don't you?" 

He grunted, but didn't protest when she pushed him down flat on the bed, stroking his stomach with her hands and trailing her hair down his chest until she felt her cheek resting softly against his cock, one hand curled gently around the base. "This is a nice, one, isn't it?" she murmured, rubbing her face against his cock like a cat in heat. 

"Mrrmf," he muttered.

Amy laughed, "What was that, tiger?"

"Is that a rhetorical question?" he asked. She burst out laughing, causing her hand to squeeze him ever so slightly, and he jumped. 

"Enough chatter. There's better things for mouths to be doing right now," she said, and slipped him into her mouth. He thought that sounded about right. 

She knew what she was doing, that's for sure. She used a lot of tongue, a lot of suction, and her hand kept up a steady rhythm around the base of his cock, sometimes mirroring the motions of her mouth, sometimes countering. She reached down between her legs, scooping up her juices in her fingers, and bringing them up to slather on his cock, lubricating it with spit, her own cum, and the steady stream of precum that kept oozing from his own cock. He did not know how much longer he could handle this. He lifted his head to watch for a minute, hoping to distract himself, but the vision of her red head bobbing up and down, of her slender fingers curling and cupping him, stroking his thighs and occasionally raking him -- just a bit -- with her sharp little nails, nearly sent him over the edge. He could see her cheek concave as she sucked him down as far as she could, working to keep the suction tight, straining wide as she went down to the base. The hot suction went on and on, and his hands gripped her hair. His hips started that same rolling motion she had been doing earlier, thrusting hungrily, wanting more, needing that release. "Amy, I'm going to ... are you ok? I'm gonna cum ..." She nodded in reply, but didn't move her mouth. In fact, she increased her suction and the speed up and down his cock, and gently slipping one finger back to his ass, tickling, pressing, sliding it between his cheeks to tease his asshole, pressing that bundle of nerves. "Holy FUCK, Amy, what are you do ... that's amazi ... ahhh!" He came hard and fast, it felt like out of nowhere, though god knows it had been building long enough. His balls tightened and he felt like liquid energy was being dredged from every part of his body, from his fingertips to his toes, up his legs, down his arms, down his spine, all were mainlined, plugged directly into his cock and if you could somehow plug a giant generator into him, well, he guessed he just might be able to power it up. 

Amy finally released him, swallowing some, smearing around the rest which had managed to get all over her chin and hair. She wiped her hand around ineffectually, grinning. "Good?" she asked.

"Good," he smiled, and opened his arms. She fell into them gratefully, and exhausted, they both fell asleep. 

TO BE CONTINUED



Permission Ch. 01



"No, but while we were dancing (and I don't mind telling you that all my friends were watching) he did have to help me stand up. And he talked:"

"My little Angel [yes, he called me that], after I asked one of the other girls for your name, and asked your boss if she'd bend the rules and let you have a dance in thanks for bailing me out, one of the other girls came over and told me a bit more about you. She told me that I am a part of a 'little agreement' between you and your husband. Then she told me about the agreement. Now don't go into another one of your deep pink shows. I understand. Just tell me if she was telling me the truth."

"I, I, I...We NEVER thought I'd even be in the same room with you..."

"But you are, and you're in my arms."

"I know, but she shouldn't have told you. I love Paul."

"Paul is your husband, I assume. Of course you love him. And I assume he loves you. And I'd never do anything to spoil that. But you should never be ashamed of your dreams."

"That's when I backed off and told him, 'I need to sit down.' He immediately walked me to my table. But his last words to me were:

"Angelina, I'm no more than human, and very proud that a sweet, lovely woman like you would include me in her fantasies. I live in a world where fantasies can sometimes become reality."

* * * * *

So, now it was a week later, and the impossible may have been about to happen. Angelina had returned to work on Friday to even more kidding, but full of secret pride that Sean Faulkner had danced with her and knew her special fantasy. And she also had in her heart the knowledge that I had said yes.

Yes, I had.

How could I say anything else? First of all, this was all impossible. And second of all, if I'd said no, while Angelina would probably have accepted it, something big would have come between us. How do you block your wife's greatest dream, even if it is a sexual one that doesn't involve you? Especially if, after thinking abut it, you realize that it carries more promise than threat. There was never any threat that sean Faulkner would steal my loving wife from me. I did trust her. And if, wonder of wonder, miracle of miracles, she managed an adventure with him, I knew my Angelina well enough to be sure that her gratitude to me would result in benefits I'd never dared dream of.

So I'd said yes.

Meanwhile, TV tabloid shows reported the presence of the Great Man in our area, marveling at how this famously private actor could shoot scenes as required, then somehow evade paparazzi and gossip mongers and disappear to some as yet undiscovered retreat somewhere in the area.

Then the phone call came. It was Tuesday evening, after dinner, and Daniela and Rose were, as usual ensconced in their room, busy with homework. I answered the phone, and even I knew that voice immediately. I admit I felt a chill. He got right down to brass tacks. He told me who he was, as if that was in question, then asked me what my wife had told him about the CCG. "Tell me everything. It's important." So I did. "Good," he said. "If she had left out anything important, I'd end this right here and ask you to explain why. But what I need to know now is, did you and do you stand behind your agreement?

One last chance to back out, huh? And if I tell him the truth, will he consider me a fool? Well, I cared more about what my delicious little wife, (right at that moment totally unaware, watching Wheel of Fortune in the next room) thought. So I told him the truth, and quickly said, "I love her too much to stand between her and her dream. I hope you understand. It's not that I don't care, but that I care that much."

"Understood and respected, Paul. And I want you to know that your wife's physical and emotional health and the health of your marriage will never be threatened by anything I do. That's why I waited a few days before moving forward. I had to do some research. I hope you don't mind, but this way I know who I'm dealing with. 

"In a minute, I'd like to talk to Angelina, but first I need from you a verbal promise. My research tells me I don't need paper with you. But you must know that what happens in the next few days involving me and your wife remains forever between us, and by us I include you. I wouldn't ask her to keep secrets from you, but you must tell no one else, before or after."

"Understood and respected. Take care of my wife. And please try not to disappoint her. I don't want her to be hurt. If she's hurt, all bets and all promises are off."

"How can anyone be sure he hasn't disappointed a woman? But I promise I'll try. Now, will you please put her on?"

* * * * *

I walked with the cordless phone into the bedroom, where my doll sat up in bed, smelling sweetly of bath salts, wearing her usual fluffy terry robe loosely tied and watching the TV. Her knees were drawn up and to the side, greeting me with a view of silky thighs and a little strip of pale pink panty peeking out between them. I said, "You have a phone call." She looked up. "Some old guy named Sean." She might've been mounted on springs. She bounced up onto her knees and reached her left hand toward me for the phone, staring into my eyes. As she bounced up, the robe popped open and there before me were those wonderful, perfect breasts, the rosy nipples already erect, whether from the sudden cooler air or her sudden arousal. I smiled, then nodded. She knew what the nod meant. Silently she mouthed "thank you," and took the phone.

I couldn't leave. Not that I wanted to listen in. It was her reaction I had to see. I was actually, God help me, thrilled for her -- thrilled that my Angelina might before long get to be in bed with a world-famous hunk. And I was, as usual, mesmerized by the rosy glow of embarrassment that spread across her chest, right out to her nipples.

Angelina managed to compose herself and sit back down, but this time with her legs spread wide and the robe open, I sat at her feet and began to lightly stroke her calves, up to the backs of her knees, as they talked. Actually, I'm afraid my sweet wife couldn't find it in her to talk much. She just listened, repeating a few things that he was saying, and managing a question here and there. What she did manage, however, either oblivious to me or with me in mind, was to hold the phone with her left hand, while her right one plunged deeply into her panties and began a rapid fingering. In seconds, I heard the slosh, slosh of a very wet pussy. I looked up, and her eyes were closed, so I gently lifted her hand out, against some resistance, and sucked her sweet juices from three soaked fingers. She couldn't wait, and shoved the hand back in.

Now, if I have one special talent as a lover, it's the great joy I get from sucking on that soft, swollen pussy. And My wife was presenting me with the perfect offer. So I reached both my hands behind her little butt cheeks, gripped the top elastic of her panties, and lifted her ass off the bed, sliding the panties off before she knew what I was doing. Angelina's only response was to shiver slightly, move toward me on the bed and arch her pelvis up, letting it speak for itself. So there I was. As My wife was on the phone planning to seduce or be seduced by Sean Faulkner, I was burying my face in her warm, inviting snatch, drinking in the scents and tropical juices as if I were the cause of her arousal. 

Every time I get to spend quality time with my face buried between those soft thighs, it's like a brand new wonder. Angie keeps just a little tuft of soft pubic hair in a V shape above her slot, pointing to an otherwise waxed clean pair of soft, very smooth lips. And she responds to sex instantly, the mons puffing out, the inner lips swelling and deepening to a passionate pink and the waters flowing as if from some magical wellspring. But the best part is that little, shiny headed bald guy who lives under her hood, and perks up like a playful puppet whenever his surroundings heat up. If I'm not clear enough, she's got a shiny headed clitoris that pokes itself out and demands its fair share of sucking. And the more I suck on it, the more juices flow, the more my woman twists and pulls my face into her. My God, it's a joy never to be missed!

Thank God Angie's not a screamer, because in the circumstances, she couldn't even wait till the call was over, and while (or maybe because) Sean's voice was still in her ear, she began her sharp little spasms and "ungh. ungh" sounds, covering the mouthpiece as she did so, that to me said clearly, orgasm. 

Then, as if on signal, the call was over, and my wife was looking down at me, with, if possible, more love than ever. She cradled my head between her hands and pulled me up to her face to kiss me deeply. Tasting her cum on my tongue, she then continued to lick around my lips, my chin and out to the tip of my nose, savoring the fluids of her own cunt from my face.

By this point, I hope I don't have to say that I had a hard-on that was crying out for a warm place to snuggle into. And in my new position, I began to press it against Angelina's still damp pussy. But she wasn't helping. Instead, she pulled my head away, and said, "Sorry, Paul. You're gonna have to be a little patient."

"WHAT?"

"You know how much more you enjoy a meal when you're truly hungry? Well, I'm a little afraid that I'm gonna freeze up when I'm with Sean. I want to be hungry. Know what I mean?"

Unfortunately, I did. I was hungry as hell, but some other guy was gonna get to eat my food. "Well, can't I at least get a little head, or even a hand? I'm gonna turn purple down there."

"Paul, what you just did to me shouldn't even have happened, but I have admit you that I closed my eyes and imagined it was someone else, if you know what I mean. What with Sean in my ear the whole time. So from now until 'afterward,' no more hanky panky between us, not even a little hanky. Sorry. But I swear you won't be sorry later."

And that was it. Boy was I cursing myself out. On the other hand, my wife was about as happy as I'd seen her, and that was worth an awful lot.

* * * * *

For the next hour, Angelina rushed about, picking out a dance outfit and a bathing suit to bring. She'd just opened her panty drawer, and I was about to leave, unable to watch, when the phone rang again. She picked it up before I realize I hadn't returned the cordless to its cradle, and listened very briefly, at first looking a bit puzzled, then grinning. Then she hit the button and sat on the bed.

"OK, I don't have to worry about packing. The limo's picking me up tomorrow evening at seven and taking me to the train. The train will take me to another limo which will take me to where Sean is staying. And I'm to wear casual clothes, and bring nothing else."

Huh?

"Oh, get that silly look off your face, Paul. Early tomorrow morning, before I leave for work at CoBRA, someone will arrive here to take a little of my blood. I guess I know what that's for."

"Yeah, just don't bother saying it."

And whoever comes will also measure me for a custom wardrobe, which will be waiting for me when I get there, as will a toothbrush, scents, bath soaps, and whatever I need, and I'll be able to keep it all."

"Does Sean think he has to seduce you?"

"No, but he's rolling in dough, and he knows how to spend it on a lady." That put me in my place.

It took me a little while to collect myself. Then I finally said, "You know, Sugarbuns, it wasn't exactly easy for me to say yes to this. But I love you and I trust you, and I don't think I could ever give you anything else that would make up for my saying no."

At this point, my Angelina was snuggling up to me and there were tears in her eyes. 

"All I ask of you is that when this is over, it's really over, except in your memory. And that you tell me everything...Everything that happens to you and everything that you do and feel. You can't tell anyone else, and I know you'll be bursting. I promise that whatever happens, as long as you've truly come back to me, I'll not only live with it, but be deeply happy for you."

She was looking into my eyes and weeping openly. "I know how hard it must be, Honey. But I just have to do this thing. I promise you will know everything as soon as I come back. And how could I not come back to a man like you?

* * * * *

The morning's preparations were done as planned, with one addition. While drawing a tube of Angelina's blood, the med. tech. produced a certificate and showed it to both of us. It confirmed that, as of two days earlier, the man in question was free of all STDs. 

At seven that evening, a black limo pulled up and its driver came to the door. Then, after she'd told the girls to "be good with Daddy. Mommy has a meeting to go to. I'll miss you till Sunday," I watched my little prize walk down to the limo, dressed in a white silk top and knee length red silk skirt over bare legs. I was careful not to know what was underneath. Then it was just an infinity of waiting.

* * * * *

Angelina was, thank God, true to her word. By Sunday evening, she was home and glowing, dropped off by the same limo driver. And all she wanted to do was talk. And I think the best way to go on with this is to transcribe for you, with minor corrections, the recording I made of her story. I did it on digital video discs, so I'd always remember not only her words, but her look. I figured it wasn't really violating any agreement with Faulkner because, first of all, no one else would ever see it, and secondly, it wasn't backed up with any proof. It might as well have been my wife's pipe dream beginning to end.

So, go ahead, Sweetheart, and tell us what happened:

Well, it was almost a disaster from the start. The limo driver got me to the train, gave me a ticket and saw me on. But the ride was over an hour, and it was after 7:30 when the train left. You know how I get when I'm hungry -- I start to drift off. But this time, after about a half hour, with the vibrations from the tracks, and with what was on my mind, it was more than simple drifting off.

By that time, there were only a few people in my car , and it was dark out. I'd settled against the window, with an empty seat beside me and empties across the aisle. And I kept remembering Sean's strong arms and hard body as we danced last week. You know how sexy I can get, Hon. Soon I could feel moisture between my thighs. I was afraid I'd leave a spot on my good silk skirt, so I slid it from below my ass and settled against the cool plastic seat. 

But that wasn't enough. The more the train vibrated, the more turned on I got, so I let myself imagine that Sean was already there beside me, and I slid my right hand between the window wall of the train and my upper thigh, and slipped my fingers under the lower elastic of my panties. Boy, was I wet. I love when I get like that! Two fingers slid into my pussy and my thumb found my clit, which was up and hard as usual. I closed my eyes, and just enjoyed a good hand job. Slipping and plunging knuckle deep, my clitoris popping back and force across the soft pad of my thumb. And my body hid what I was up to from anyone who might pass by. I even snuck my fingers out and tasted my cum, before sneaking them back in. It was sweet, and exciting because it was sort of public.

Meanwhile, with my eyes still closed, and my head back, I imagined that it was Sean beside me, with his hand under my skirt. Then came the shock. Softly, my left hand, which had been resting on my left leg, on the silk of my skirt, was lifted. And before I could realize that this was real, it had been pulled about a foot or so to the left, under a newspaper. My eyes popped open, and I was looking at a young man, in his early twenties, quite handsome in fact, who had apparently sat softly down beside me, and was holding my left hand firmly in his right one. I didn't immediately grasp what was going on. It was too strange, and too like and at the same time unlike my dream, but almost immediately, what I did grasp was a hard cock.

Under the newspaper in his lap, this seemingly normal guy had his cock out and he was quite erect, and he had placed my left hand, palm down, on it. I tried to pull back, but he held tight and began to move my hand up and down the length of his thing. And he whispered to me, "You don't want to attract attention to what you're doing, do you?" And he glanced down toward my left thigh. That was when I realized, for the first time, that when I'd hiked up my skirt, I'd left the bottom of my thigh fully exposed, right up to my panties. And to make it worse, a bit of a puddle had seeped from below the thigh.

Thank goodness I thought quickly. I yanked my hand away and hissed, "Do you want to embarrass a pregnant woman with a bladder problem?" And I quickly rose, letting my skirt return to where it belonged. Then I spotted this guy's sweater around his neck. I grabbed it, said, "Oh, thank you," and pushed it hard into the pool that I'd left behind on my seat. I quickly headed for the end of the car, where the conductor was sitting. As I glanced back over my shoulder, I saw the guy trying to fix his pants. I bit later, he walked up the car past me, making a show of sniffing the sweater, Then he quickly leaned up to me and whispered, "Dollface, that's no pee on that sweater." I just smiled up at him and shrugged.

As soon as he'd passed into the next car, I slipped into the car's restroom, I was afraid I was leaving a spot on my skirt, so I stepped out of my soaked panties and put them into a zip lock bag I always keep in my purse. Then I returned to my seat, all too aware that I'd better keep my legs together. 



Permission Ch. 02



Ch. 2 -- Sex with class

When I got to the station, the limo driver had bad news. Sean wouldn't be in for a little while. He'd been delayed at the movie shoot, and was on his way by helicopter. Meanwhile, we headed for the estate of Sean's producer friend. It was huge, and beautiful, like something in Architectural Digest. The driver had the key and showed me my room, and s we got to it, his cell phone rang. Sean was arriving at the helipad soon, and the driver left me alone and headed out to pick up his boss.

And I quickly looked in the drawers for a clean pair of panties. I couldn't believe what I found. There were a dozen pair of panties of many varieties, filmy silk and lace in white and pastels; bras to match, patterned and superfine panty hose and thigh highs in black, white, pink and other shades, camisoles and teddies. It was as if I was there for a month instead of two nights.

I picked out a white silk pair trimmed in delicate lace, top and bottom, in a bikini style, and slipped them on. And before I could look around any more, I heard the limo come up the gravel drive. My heart started to pound like a conga drum. I somehow gathered myself, and headed down toward the main entrance. 

His first words when he came in, alone, were, "Good evening, Angelina, I bet you're hungry." I hadn't stopped to realize it, but I was starving, and told him so. "Well, food will be here in a few minutes." I figured he'd sent out for Chinese or pizza, or something.

Then he came up to me and wrapped me in a big, warm hug, and kissed me on the forehead, like an uncle, for God's sake. "Tony said when he met you at the train, you seemed a bit agitated. I hope the trip went all right." I kind of looked down, and he picked up on it. Come here and sit down, and tell me what happened. He led me to a long couch, and sat me at the far end. Then he sat at the other end and turned to look at me.

I took a deep breath, and gave him a brief summary of what had happened, leaving out that I had been dreaming about him. I just told him that hunger sometimes makes me lightheaded, and together with the train's vibrations, it had started me going. I did mention how wet I got, because it explained what I did with the guy's sweater.

Sean had this huge grin, and he was leaning forward. "That's marvelous," he said. "Shows you can think fast and take care of youself. I like that. But are you still wearing those undies?"

"Oh, no," I said, and told him about the zip lock bag and how I'd picked out a fresh pair as soon as I'd arrived here.

"I want you to do something for me, then. I want you to go and get that zip lock bag for me. It will be a little souvenir." 

I'm afraid this caused one of my infamous blushes, but I got up, went up to my room and got the bag. After all, it was a small thing. When I handed it to him, he looked me right in the eye and opened it immediately and delicately lifted out my pink silk bikini panties. Then he brought them to his nose and inhaled deeply, as he fingered the large, dark wet spot. "My God, you little miracle. This almost makes me want to go against a decision I'd made before coming out here. But I'll tell you more over dinner. I hear the caterers coming up the drive. Right now, I'd like you to go into that room." He pointed to a door to my left. "It's the club room. I'll call you when they've gone. To protect both your privacy and mine, I want no one not directly in my employ to see your face while you're with me."

I went through the door, and a light came on automatically. It was like a little nightclub, but with couches and love seats and easy chairs facing the small stage instead of regular seats. And there was a piano, and statues like old Roman ones on the ends of the stage -- a female and a male nude. I couldn't believe how these rich people live.

Before I knew it, Sean was at the door, and said, "Dinner is served." And he led me to another room, with an enormous table. But it was set only at one end, with fine china and silver, crystal glasses, a cut glass pitcher full of what I guessed was ice water and a huge platter with two of the largest lobsters I'd ever seen. There were other dishes with veggies and sauces, and, in an ice bucket to the right of the seat that Sean took after holding my chair for me, a bottle of white wine. 

"How did you know I love lobster." He gave me his world-famous devilish grin. And I said, "OK, that famous research again. Well, I am starved."

"The claws and shell are already cracked, and your bib is beside you. Would you like some wine? I selected a..." and he gave a name and year, but I'm afraid I don't recall them. All I know is that I had two glasses, and you know that's a lot for me, and it was the perfect wine, the perfect lobster. The perfect dinner. Sean had suggested that I savor the food and wine, but not gorge myself. It was, after all, getting late for a heavy meal. And he was, of course, right.

Meanwhile, we talked very little through dinner. Sean did most of it, exlaining that decision. '"You see, my little miracle, a man in my position finds that he can pretty much fuck when he pleases. I much prefer to make love. But I find that I cannot properly make love to a woman that I do not know well enough. So I don't know yet whether that's where either of us will really want this weekend to lead. What I do know is that I will not let it happen tonight. Tonight, for what time we have before we both pass out, we will talk. I want you to tell me about yourself, your children, Paul and your life. And I want you to feel free to ask me about who I really am. That's why, when we sat down, it was at opposite ends of the couch.

"But I must say, that incident with your panties and the sexy odor trapped in that bag, nearly made me forget myself, You can be one desirable woman."

And then we rose from the table. And Sean asked me to help him with the dishes. Was that a shock! Until he grabbed two corners of the fine linen table cloth, and pointed to the corners on my side, saying, "Grab those." Then I lifted the corners to Sean, he grabbed them, and with a clatter, pulled it all, dishes, leftovers and silver into a giant bundle. He then gathered the corners and tied them, and lifted the whole thing, carried it to the back entrance and put it outside. "The caterers will come very quietly in the wee hours and whisk this away. Isn't money wonderful?"

Then we moved back to the couch, and talked for a couple of hours. Very personal, very warm, but not even remotely sexual. Sean asked most of the questions and he did ask about you, Paul. He told me that if you hadn't been clear about your agreement and had a good reason for it, he'd never have even spoken to me that night. He told me that he blamed his own inability to give a woman enough attention for the failures of both of his marriages, and he talked about his disabled son, who he dearly loves. He asked most of the questions, but I was still shy, and the food and wine were making me very sleepy, so I'm afraid my answers were very short. So, mostly, we talked about Sean. Then he said, "You know, as usual I'm talking about myself. But just being here with you is making me comfortable with you. Now, though, I can see you're fighting the wine. You'll find a fine nightie in your closet and all the toiletries you'll need are in the bathroom next to your room. Let me walk you upstairs." And he did. At the door, he kissed me very lightly, this time on the cheek, and said goodnight. And that was it.

* * * * *

Next morning, when I finally had to get out of bed and pee, the room was still dark. I didn't get it, till I realized it was the heavy drapes. I went to the bathroom, and there was a little clock on the vanity: 11:45! Oh my God, what must he think of me. He was too much of a gentleman to wake me. Wake me, my Sean, wake me!

But what do I put on? I opened the drapes a bit for my first actual view from the window. Nothing but miles of forest. No roads in sight, and the house was apparently on a hill. There were no casual clothes, only lingerie and a big, fluffy terry cloth robe, four incredible bikinis, each one more daring than the other, and two exquisite dancing frocks. Then I noticed a note pinned to one of the frocks. It was signed by Sean, and he apologized that they weren't the designer originals he'd originally thought of but just a couple picked out by a friend at a very trendy downtown boutique. He said that he'd realized that if he'd gotten designer dresses and shoes, I wouldn't be able to wear them again, because my friends would wonder how I could possibly afford them. I guess he didn't realize that, in our pay bracket, they'd wonder about these, too, but who cares -- let them. And on the floor were a pair of snugly slippers and three pairs of sexy, strappy open toed high heels that wouldn't be all that easy to dance in. But I'd manage.

I put on a matching white lace bra and all lace panties, without even a pad in the crotch, put on the slippers and the robe and went out to find Sean.

He was nowhere in sight. I didn't dare wake him, and I wasn't even sure which room was his, there were so many, but I expected him to be waiting anxiously for me. No Sean. The last place I looked, after even checking the back entrance and yard, was the kitchen. I was getting hungry again. There, on the fridge, was a long note. "Sorry, sorry, sorry. I got a call very early this morning to come to town and do a few re-shoots of scenes we did this week. I am on contract, after all. I will be back ASAP, probably by mid afternoon. Meanwhile, there's brunch for you in the fridge. Enjoy the house, and the pool if you wish. You get there by continuing through the club room. It's indoors, but there's a connected atrium where you can get some sun before or after. Gotta go. See you soon. Sean."

I don't mind admitting I was devastated. Not even a "Love, Sean." I decided I'd bored him last night, or maybe the story of the train had actually turned him off, but he'd been being nice to me. While I prepared Belgian waffles from the fresh mix and fresh bowls of fruit in the fridge, using the waffle maker on the counter, I was actually tearing up. And I remembered that he made it clear that he didn't "make love" with just anybody, but had to know them first. I guessed it just wasn't going to happen.

So I consoled myself by remembering that this was Sean Faulkner, and we had already spent hours together over a wonderful meal and afterward, and that was, after all, far more than I'd ever really expected possible as recently as two weeks ago. Oh well...

After brunch, I was too down to think about the pool. guess I was still really feeling sorry for myself, and it was getting later and later. i'd put on the TV in the big room, and fiddled with these weird contro;s until I got some Lifetime movie or other. Even the TV was odd, because I later discovered the hous didn'y have cable, but two different satellite services. And this movie, about a woman cheating on her husband, wasn't making me feel any better. Stop, Paul [I was about to interrupt her], I know you said it was OK, but that doesn'yt mean I didn't have my own doubts. Anyway, I sat around vegging out, still in the fluffy robe and undies. I'd given up by 3:30, and was looking around for some more of that wine.

* * * * *

Then I heard the door open up. I was so down that I actually expected it to be Tony, the limo guy, with instructions to collect my stuff and get ready to head for home. So I didn't go to the door.

Then, suddenly, I felt his arms around me from behind. "I'm so sorry, my little angel. Couldn't be avoided. But I promise you have my undivided attention from now on. Now turn around and let me see that face."

I didn't want to, but I did. "Oh, Angelina, you've been crying."

"I thought you weren't coming back," I said, and I'm afraid I started to cry again.

"You flatter me too much. How could I walk away from someone so special? Did you at least have a swim? What have you been up to?"

I answered simply, with my head down. I didn't want him to look at me. I knew I was a mess. Teary face, no makeup and my hair all mussed. I begged him to let me shower and change.

"Of course, little one. Take whatever time you need, and when you come back down, I want you to be wearing one of the dancing frocks my buyer picked out for you. We're going to continue what we started at that dinner last week." I'm afraid I was weeping openly by now, but this time with happiness. It still might happen!

* * * * *

I was so conflicted. I wanted, finally, to be with Sean, but I know myself well enough to know that I'd better slow down. And there was no way I'd let him see me in such a mess again. So I went up and took a long bath in the sweetest bath salts I've ever used. I wanted to at least start the evening squeaky clean everywhere. Then I did my hair and put on understated but just right makeup for dance light, in front of the perfect makeup mirror in my huge bathroom.

Then it was time to dress, and that wasn't as hard as it usually is for me. After all, there were only two little dresses, and only one was the length I wanted: short enough to swing up when I twirled, but not so short that I looked slutty. It was a gorgeous bluebird silk, with a kind of scoop neck in front and back that would fall away if I leaned. The bottom was so smooth and flowing that whenever I turned, it would spin out a bit. And there was, like, a wide cutout below my bodice that exposed my belly down to maybe an inch or two above my panties. And the only thing keeping the cutout closed was the absolutely perfect fit.

For undies, I chose a very pale blue chantilly lace underwire demi bra and matching thong by Chantelle. The bra was just low enough that the top edges of my nipples peeped over the lace, but it hardly mattered, because both bra and thong were such a fine lace that they were basically transparent. And the little thong, instead of a usual T top, had a little zigzag blue lace in a V cutout where the to string met the vertical one. The final touch was a pair of very, very fine thigh high black stockings with a wide band of lace at the tops. I liked the contrast of the black with the blue dress.

When I checked myself out in the mirror, believe it or not I thought, Man I wish Paul could see me like this. But then, I realized that you will. You certainly will. Then I looked again and decided that maybe I was being a bit too aggressive for this so-classy man. Dancing or leaning, too much might show, and I didn't want to look cheap. Fortunately, whoever bought the lingerie must have thought like me, and there was a solution. I found a darker, but matching blue cropped cami by Cosabella, which was short enough so that it didn't show in the cutout, but did give me a little modesty when I leaned forward. And there was a matched La Perla Sky Doll lace culotte boy short that I slipped over the string. 

Now, a few dabs of the ridiculously expensive Pure Turquoise perfume by Ralph Lauren that was on my dresser and I was ready to see Sean again, to dance, and I hoped...

* * * * *

This time, Sean was waiting for me. he stood up from the couch and just didn.t move as I approached. A grin spread across his face and, before I came too close, he took two quick strides to me, surrounded me in a huge hug, and whispered in my ear, "I have never seen anyone more beautiful." Then he pulled his face away from mine again and just stared at my face. And before I knew it, we were kissing. On the lips. OK, no tongue, but Sean Faulkner was kissing me on the lips and he really thought I looked beautiful. I could've floated away. 

I could've and would've done about anything else right then, but wouldn't you know, dinner time was here again, and he was leading me back to that big table. This time it was a lighter meal, pasta primavera with a red wine, and neither of us dawdled over our food. I had my usual two glasses of this excellent wine, but this time, Sean said no. He said that he'd been working all day, and was afraid the red would make him drowsy. "Getting old, you know," he winked. I realized soon that he had another reason to avoid wine.

We bundled up the tablecloth and put it out, and it was already 7:30. Twenty four hours in Sean's home, and so far nothing I couldn't have had my daughters along for. But at this point, Sean took my hand, and said, "Now, what about that dance?" And he led me to the club room.

As we entered, indirect lights came on. Most of the room was dark, but there was excellent lighting on the dance floor and soft lights on the nearest seats. And music was coming from somewhere. Sean took me right to the slightly raised dance floor and we started to dance. He must have programmed it, because there were continuous medium, then slower songs, and Sean was an excellent dancer.

Little by little, he held me closer, and in a few short songs, my head was on his shoulder in a very slow number, and his hands surrounded me. The hand on my back, I realized, was moving up and down, lightly stroking my lower back. His other hand was on the almost bare skin at my shoulder. Then the first hand dropped slowly lower, until it rested on the upper slope of my bottom. He said, "You're very firm." And before I could think to say anything, the other hand had slipped the spaghetti strap of my dress off my shoulder, and he was kissing it. My knees buckled. But before I could fall, his lower hand pressed me closer, and he said, "The wine?' 

I looked into his eyes. "No, the man." I knew other, more intimate parts of me must also be reacting, but I just danced and enjoyed the moment. That's when he slipped off the other dress strap, and it dropped to my waist, followed quickly by his mouth, kissing the very top slopes of my breasts. But rather than stay there, Sean pulled me close again and move back up to kiss my lips. This time, his tongue slid between my lips, and I sucked on it greedily. As the song says, "i could have danced all night" Except that dancing like this was getting more and more erotic.

To my surprise, Sean now stood back and looked me up and down. "I think I've danced enough," he said. I absentmindedly pulled the spaghetti straps back up and was about to leave the floor with him. "No, Cupcakes, I've danced enough, but I'd like you to stay here." I stood, confused, as Sean walked to the couch and poured ghimself a glass of water. "Want Some?"

I shook my head. The musc was still on, and, high as I felt, I was still swaying. But I wasn't too far gone to notice Sean sneak something with his water. He took a little blue pill! And boy, did that send me a bunch of messages.

"Angelina, I want you to dance for me. I already know you as a person, Now I want you to make me one hundred per cent sure that what we're both thinking of doing is what we really want. Dance for me, and show me that special side of yourself that other men don't get to know." And he took off his jacket and tie and slipped off his shoes and sat down in a great big easy chair with wide, soft arms. Then he pushed a button beside him, and a row of mirrors dropped behind the seats, so that now I was looking at what he was looking at. "Dance for me, Angel, but dance for yourself as well. I want you to watch yourself dance in the mirrors."

Then, somehow, he made the music change. Something very familiar came on -- something you played for me way back when we were dating. Remember Bolero? That's what I danced to, and I wasn't about to tell him that my husband had had the idea years before him.

* * * * *

Now, Paul, you know that I'm not completely inexperienced with stripping, but this was different. At first, i just swayed and moved with the music. Then I slid those dress straps back off and let the top drop. The cut held it at my waist, so there I was in skirt and black thigh highs, my blue camisole leaving only my shoulders and belly bare. I began to flip the bottom of the cami up and down and slide the palms of my hands across my belly. Then I quickly slid one hand all the way into the top of my skirt and stood there still, my pelvis thrust forward, so the drape of the skirt would show my hand moving beneath it, at my crotch. Then I slid that hand back up my belly and across my chest, and put two fingers in my mouth smiling at Sean.




Permission Ch. 02



Kristin woke late the next morning and Mark had already left for work. Almost immediately she began to think about the permission she now had and what she would do with it. She wanted attention and she wanted it bad. She took a long shower, taking special care to groom herself well. She got a brand new razor and using the lavender body gel, began to shave herself. First her under her arms, but then she moved to her legs. There was something amazingly sexy to her about stretching her legs out, and drawing the razor slowly up her calves and thighs; each stroke revealing smooth skin from the light soapy covering. 

As she finished her legs she began on her "bikini area." She remembered the first time she had shaved herself there. She was much younger and, at the time, it had seemed like such a naughty thing to do. It still sort of felt naughty. She slowly lathered herself up, enjoying the sensations of warm soapy fingers sliding along her sensitive lips and mons. Placing one leg on the tub edge, she took the razor and began gently gliding it over her softened skin. She moaned softly as she watched her smooth legs emerge from the light soapy covering, thinking the process was deliciously erotic.

After her shower, Kristin carefully chose her outfit. She had a brand new sundress that she had purchased last spring, and never got the courage to wear. It was a floral print dress, and frankly was a little short and a little sheer. When she saw it in the store, she thought how cute and playfully sexy it would look on her. But when she got home and tried it on, she realized that at barely mid-thigh it was much shorter than she usually wore. It was only when she got home and was admiring herself in the mirror that she fully realized how revealing it was. The idea that someone could see through it both thrilled and frightened her. So she had hung it in her closet, waiting for the right time. And now, she thought boldly, it was the right time.

She slid the dress over her head and let it settle on her bare skin. She had never really gone out without undergarments, and the feeling of being without them was different and arousing. She looked at herself in the mirror, adjusting the spaghetti shoulder straps and the waistband so that the fabric clung to her curves. She turned and looked and imagined how a man might see her in this. Undressing her with his eyes. She had usually resisted dressing like this, not because she was offended by being ogled by men, but because she was afraid she might act on it. Today, Kristin had permission to act on it. 

Her plan was evolving in her mind and as she thought about it, she could feel the tingling of arousal in her body. It made her feel alive, sexy, womanly and excited. And a little nervous. She got in her car and headed to the other side of town. Kristin was going to seduce a stranger. Get him to take her, at her behest. It was dangerous and erotic and as her mind imagined how the man would just be overwhelmed and how he would thrust himself inside her, she felt her body tingle. It was a nervousness and an excitement all rolled into one. She could feel her nipples, pushing against the soft fabric of the dress. She could feel her ass, bare except for the thin dress. And most of all, she could feel her pussy, all but exposed to the world. Her body hummed with arousal and desire.



Permission Ch. 03



Ch. 3 -- Cumming home

We lay like that for a little while, Sean now half on top of me. And I could still feel that cock, still hard, pressing into my thigh. Soon, his hand was again at my crotch, lightly stroking my swollen lips. Yes, they were tender, but slick with juice. and the more he stroked, the less it was painful tenderness and the more it was urgency.

I slid my hand between us and gripped the head of his rod, pulling it toward my hole. He shifted and I spread my legs wide to let him in. There was no hesitancy this time. I felt that fat cock head just below my clit, then it popped in and he pushed in one firm stroke all the way in. It brought A long, heavy sigh from my mouth, which he then covered with his. And he kissed me long and hard, our tongues pushing against each other as he slid in long, even strokes in and out of my cunt. Back and forth he guided himself, thick but well lubricated. Then he pressed hard and deep and stopped moving and stared deep into my eyes. It was then that I tremembered to use my muscles, and with him unmoving, pressed hard against my mons, I began to squeeze and release my internal muscles, milking that cock for all I was worth.

Sean got a look on his face I've never seen, I swear he'd never experienced exactly what was happening, because his eyes sort of rolled up, and he just grunted, "What..."

I put my left hand on his cheek to direct his eyes into mine, and I whispered, "Sean, I'm safe. I'm on the pill. I want to feel you come deep inside me." 

It was like turning a switch. Suddenly, his hips were bucking again and I knew he was getting close, so I pulled him to me for more kissing and slid my right hand up under my ass, hunting for his cock. Then my thumb and forefinger circled it, so he could feel me holding him and, at the same time, I could feel his cock sliding in and out of my pussy -- feel the swollen lips pulled in and out by his thrusts. 

This must have been too much for Sean, because in just a few more thrusts, he pressed hard on my pelvic bone, and my fingers and my vaginal muscles could feel his cock swelling inside me. Then came the hot, wonderful flood of cum in my deepest place. And, of course, I spasmed harder than before, cumming again along with Sean.

He stayed on me for some time, who knows how long. He was drinking up my face with his beautiful eyes. Then, finally, he pulled himself out slowly. He'd finally started to soften, but was still thick. 

I wasn't going to miss this chance, and I rolled myself around and cradled his wondeful tool in my hands, and, as he watched in obvious wonder, lollipopped all of our mixed juices off of him.

I won't bother with the details after that. Of course, we both needed the bathroom, and a little freshening up, but by the time I came back, Sean was already asleep, naked as a jay. So I took that as my cue and lay down beside him and I too was asleep in seconds. 

* * * * *

The next morning, sun filled the huge bedroom, and Sean was nowhere in sight. And I was still naked. I went to the john and discovered a whirlpool bath, which reminded me that I REALLY needed one. And I found myself feling a longing. For home, for you and for Rose and Daniela. The hunger was gone. But that was no surprise. I'd had a pretty damn good meal the night before.

When I came, barefoot, back into the bedroom, on the deep, deep pile rug, I found something that I swear wasn't there when I got up. There were clothes waiting for me. At the foot end of the bed were my fluffy bathrobe, matching canary yellow and white lace Brazilian tanga and demi bra and nice warm white cotton socks. These I put on, and went out to find the room in which I'd spent the first night.

When I got there, I found all of the clothing discarded the night before, folded and piled neatly on my bed. This man was amazing, still. I collected some toiletries and returned to take that whirlpool soak in Sean's bath. Afterward, I primped and preened as best I could, put back on the undies and belted on the robe and headed out to find him.

From the head of the stairs, I smelled bacon frying, and as I descended, to that were added the scents of toast and coffee. And, as usual this weekend, I was hungry. At the kitchen, I wasn't surprised to find Sean at the stove preparing eggs, barefoot and in gray sweats. I had barely sat down in the kitchen eating area, my place already set with a tall glass of fresh squeezed OJ, when Sean brought over a big platter of eggs and bacon and another of toast. "I expect you're as hungry as I am, Angelina. That was some night." 

It turns out I'd lept late again, and, what with the bath and all, it was noon. But Sean seemed OK with everything. After breakfast, this time we didn't bundle up the dishes. We actually dumped them and rinsed them and put them in the washer. Sean said staff would be back to make everything new again on Monday. And we went out onto a sun-drenched deck with our after breakfast coffees and just sat and talked, like old friends. 

Sean wanted to know more about the girls, and what they'd be doing about now. I thought and realized that you were probably with them at soccer. I suddenly felt guilty for not being there. But it wasn't like it was the first time. I knew the guilt was coming from someplace deeper. I had to call you. That's why you got that call on your cell at the soccer field on Sunday. And you were so good. You didn't even ask if we'd done it, only if I was happy. And of course I was. You sounded so happy for me that I wanted to cry. I said I'd be back later that day, and you said (I remember your words), "Don't worry about me. And don't rush it. Make every minute count and I swear neither of us will ever regret it." By this time, I was crying.

Sean looked at me, questioningly. I covered the phone, and just smiled and said, "No, it's OK. It's just that my husband is so wonderful." 

And he reached for the phone, and said, "May I?" I handed it to him and heard his side of the conversation. "Paul? Sean, here. I just want to tell you what you clearly already know. You have a wonderful, adorable woman here. And she loves you deeply." There was a pause. "Of course. And I'll see to it that when she leaves here, she won't have to look back. Thank you, man. From every part of me, thank you."

I took back the phone and all you said was, "Soon, Sweetheart, but not too soon. And promise you'll tell me all." So I am. 

* * * * *

We moved back to the living room and sat and talked some more, as music filled the room from speakers I never saw. We talked about Sean's marriages and how he blamed himself for not giving his family enough of his time. We talked about his love for his disabled son. And Sean told me that even if I hadn't been on the pill, he wouldn't be concerned, because he'd had a vasectomy some years ago after a bout with mumps in his mid-thirties made fatherhood unlikely anyway. He really opened up to me, and, you know, Sean Faulkner is not a really happy man. I was glad we'd had that night, and not just glad for me.

"So, I truly hate to bring this up, but the time is approaching that I'll be losing you for good. Why don't you enjoy the pool and sunroom before you go? I'd love to see how you look in a swimsuit." 

Actually, it occurred to me that, after last night, a suit was hardly necessary. Skinny dipping sounded like fun. But maybe Sean had had enough, or all he could handle.

I smiled and headed upstairs. But as I got up, I dropped the robe on the couch so he could watch me walk off in the tiny, sexy little tanga. I heard him say, "My, my, my. Hurry back, my love."

* * * * *

Figuring that it was all over but the shouting, as they say, I picked the less revealing swimsuit. It actually covered my boobs and buns, It covered them in thin, clingy cloth of shiny pale beige, but it covered, and it wasn't see-through or anything. Of course, it fit me so well, that buyer had picked so well for me, that the clingy fabric outlined not only my nipples, but the raised areas around them. And even without pulling the bottoms up tight, they made a little nook at my crotch, as if my pussy were sucking the suit in. Even all covered up, I'm not sure I'll ever dare wear the suit to the beach with you, I'm afraid.

And the pool was wonderful. Just warm enough, and not over chlorinated. I swam around and floated a bit, and tried to get Sean to come in. He was in thigh-length baggy black trunks, of all things, yet his legs and chest still looked awfully toned. But Sean just said he preferred to just watch me enjoy myself. He was actually reading something! "What are you reading, Sean?" I'm afraid I was getting spoiled by all his attention.

"Oh, I'm sorry, doll. You're tempting as usual, but I have an early shoot in town tomorrow, and I have lines to bone up on."

"I'll get bone you up, you silly man." He roared with laughter.

"Then he suddenly got a little serious. "Angelina, I know you saw me sneak that Viagra last night. I'm really under orders not to take ay of the stuff during the filming. Any problem would cause very expensive delays. But you made me forget myself, I'm afraid. However, I really can't take another, and without the stuff, I'm never sure if anything will happen, or if it does, if it will last. So, you just enjoy the pool and I'll enjoy the view." 

So this would have to be enough. And, actually, it was plenty. What a weekend, and with that man! After some more swimming, I climbed out, toweled off and lay back on a chaise near Sean.

"Hey, why don't you get some sun in the solarium over there?' he nodded across the pool to a room adjoining the pool area, with sun streaming through ceiling windows. 

"Tempting, but I don't want to go home with a tan. My daughters think I went to a meeting, and I'd rather not have to explain anything to my co-workers tomorrow."

"But the warmth in there will feel wonderful, and I can fix it so you get the sun without the tan."

"Well, OK," I said, getting up. "But I'll need a very strong sunscreen. I tan easily." And we walked together to this beautiful wood paneled room with a bubbling fountain in the center and wide wooden benches like the ones in saunas. There were big thick towels piled on tables around the room. "So, where's my sunscreen?"

"Watch." And Sean went to a wall panel with some sliding switches and dials on it. First, I noticed the skylights dimmed a bit, as if a light fog had drifted in outside. Then there was a low hum and a gentle breeze came up. It was still quite warm, but the breeze made it like a tropical island. "Fans." Sean said. "Intake and exhaust in strategic places. You don't see them, but they'll keep the sweat from sitting on your skin. And the glass in the skylights can be chemically adjusted by a dial to mimic any level of PABA. You're now getting nice, wam sun, but no UV radiation at all. Enjoy."

I placed a huge towel, like an inch thick, on a bench, and lay down on my back to soak up the sun. What a way to live. Sean sat with his script on a chair beside me.

"Very, very nice." he said, looking down at me. "But it occurs to me that this dry heat might damage that velvet skin of yours. I can help with that."

"Go on."

"There's a skin treatment my ex discovered in the Canaries. It will actually make you glow and tingle as it soaks in, and its scent is delightful. It has protein and vitamins in it and you may actually feel your skin tighten just slightly. You can't use it too often."

"I'd love to try. You're sure it's safe?"

""All natural herbs, fruits and certain rare animal hormones." And he went to a closet and got me a bottle. "Now, spread it all over, but not too thick.

And I did. And he watched. And I decided to drop the bathing suit top and give my breasts the benefits, too. As I lay back, the tingling had already started. it felt so good that I took a little dab and slipped my fingers under my bottoms so I could spread a bit over my clit hood. Sean watched it all.

In a couple of minutes, he said, "Well? Ignoring your back?"

"Oh, I thought I'd let it work awhile in the sun first, then turn over."

"Two things, my angel. First, the oil doesn't need the sun to work on your skin. That's just a feel-good bonus. And second, I have to tell you that because of the way this oil works, you can't leave it on too long. I've already set a a timer and in a while you'll have to use the poolside shower to rinse off the excess, or else you could find yourself tingling for days, and that becomes annoying, at best."

"Oh," I said, flipping onto my belly. "Thanks for the warning. But I can't reach everywhere back there. Be a doll and do me, Sean."

"I'd just love to be able to do you. But you're going to have to settle for letting me oil you up." Then he knelt on a rolled up towel and spread the oil over the backs of my arm and back. he couldn't resist letting his fingertips press the sides of my flattened breast as he did my sides. Then he shifted and massaged the oil into the soles of my feet, and began to work his way up my calves. the man was making me uncomfortable again, especially as he started long, firm strokes up first the outsides, then the backs of my thighs. When he gently pulled my upper legs apart and worked my inner thighs, I just closed my eyes and pictured the night before.

He stopped, but he didn't stand immediately. "We're not quite finished." he said, and I felt his hands at he sides of my bikini bottom. "May I?" I just answered by lifting my bottom off the towel, and he opened the bows tying the bottom on and pulled it off. Again there was a pause. I knew he was just taking in the view. And his hand slowly kneaded my cheeks, down into the crack and even poked slightly into my anus. Then, his thumb (I know it was his thumb, because it was a slightly wider, softer pad) slid down into the swamp of my pussy. The thumb slid gently up and down, at first not penetrating then just popping in slightly and coming out. And in the end, excuse the expression, he slid a little farther and pressed it up under my swollen clit. 

When his hand stopped moving, I started. He pulled back, starng at me. I looked back at him. "Finish yourself off for me, Angelina. I want to watch you." he didn't have to ask twice. Lying here on a soft towel, in a tropical breeze under a warm sun, my skin tingling and with Sean Faulkner staring between my parted thighs, I slid my hand under my front and put my fingers to work. You know how much I love the feel of my own soaking vagina. How much more perfect with this audience. All I had in my head was an image of his eyes staring at me, and I bucked, wiggled and squirmed until I couldn't hold back. It was one of my rare little squirters. I felt that warm stream almost splash out and over my fingers, as I pressed my pubic bone hard against my hand and grunted over and over.

"Thank you, my sweet. that is one more special memory I can keep forever." He stood and went back to his seat.

* * * * *

I think I may have dozed off there for a short while. There was a melodic tone, and Sean said that it was time to wash off the extra oil. He indicated an open tiled shower stall, with two heads, high and middle, across the pool. So I went over and rinsed myself down. "Should I be using soap?"

"No, most of the oil has been absorbed, and the excess comes off easily. But you may want to finish up with a little more pool time. The chlorination seems to balance whatever causes the tingling."

So after a short shower, paying close attention to those areas of my body where I'd added my own juices, I just dived into the pool. "Come on, don't waste our last little time together. At least share the pool with me. You are wearing trunks, after all," I called to him.

I was actually surprised when he put his script on a table and began walking around the pool. But instead of diving right in, first he went to each of the two pool ladders, and on the pool deck at the top of each ladder, laid out a long, thick white towel. And right up against the rails, on the near end of the towels he'd just laid out, he piled a stack of maybe four thick towels, folded up, so the stacks were about a foot and a half thick. Then, finally, he dived in. I thought nothing of it.

He swam the length of the pool twice, very swiftly, then swam over to where I was holding the edge, watching him. He just stared into my eyes for a few seconds, then grabbed me by the waist and lifted me straight out of the water and buried a kiss in my belly button. Then, with me giggling, he flipped me into the pool on my back and dived underneath me. Before I knew what hit me, he came up with his back beneath mine and lifted me again, like a dolphin, and shrugged me sideways off his back.

So, he he wanted to play! From below I reached up and grabbed both of his feet and pulled him down. He pushed my shoulders back down and shot back up, and I swam quickly a few feet away and surfaced, My hair was soaked, and water was dripping from my eyelids and nose and I was grinning madly at him. He started for me, but I dived again. This time, I swam around him once, so he'd lose me, and I touched bottom with my feet. Then I used that as a springboard and pushed myself vertically right up his front, sliding my hands right up his thighs and under those baggy trunks. Before he knew what hit him, I'd slid one hand under his jock and grabbed his penis. Then, without letting go, I popped up in front of him and planted a kiss on his lips.

"Just wanted you to know I haven't forgotten my baby, even if he is a bit tired right now." And I threw myself on my back and backstroked to the nearest ladder, my breasts and pubic mound bobbing above the surface. 

Sean watched for just a moment. Either he was a bit stunned, or just enjoying the view again. But before I could climb all the way out, water pouring from my back and ass, he'd caught up and grabbed both of my calves. "Not so fast, miss." This nearly threw me off balance, but I held the rails, expecting to be yanked back into the pool.

Instead, Sean must have climbed onto the bottom rung of the ladder. He reached his right hand around me and gently supported me at the waist, and with his left, he lightly pushed the top swell of my butt forward, saying softly, "Just lie down for me one last time, Angelina." Suddenly the long towel at the ladder head and the pile of towels had their purpose. My head and breasts came to rest, but the stack of towels held my ass high in the air. And Sean, from behind, was firmly separating my legs on the wide, soft rubber ladder rungs. And he had knelt between my knees.

""I must have one more taste of you. Just relax and leave everything to me." And with those words and no more foreplay, without my even being able to see him, Sean Faulkner pressed the full length of his warm tongue along my vulva. For the first time, I was normal, not swollen, but that wouldn't last long. He began to lap at me like a desert traveler at a slow water seep, and I felt his fingers rubbing the hood of my already growing clitoris. Then, suddenly, a finger was flicking in and out of my asshole, as his hands held the cheeks wide. Wait a minute, I realized. If his hands were holding the cheeks, then... Yes, his tongue was going up my ass. Oh my God. I was so glad I'd showered, been in the pool, showered again then gone back to the pool. Because I wasn't about to stop him. He'd extended his licks all the way from clit to anus, and two fingers were now in my cunt. And he was taking his time. I was just dripping all over him, and Sean was lapping it up.

"Time to turn over, my darling," he said, and just reached around me and flipped me on my back, at the same time pulling me off the towel stack and toward the edge of the pool. "I don't know how you've done it, but for the first time in I don't know how long, I'm more than a little hard without chemicals." And, again before I could react, he was pressing himself into that soaked hole that wanted him so much. 




Permission Ch. 03



Kristin pulled into the parking lot of the large box hardware store she had chosen. The lot was nearly empty as mid morning on a weekday is not prime time for hardware stores. Kristin was counting on that fact. As she walked in, she thought how cliché this all was. The fact that she associated hardware and tools with manliness and virility was both sexist and trite. Her plan relied upon cliché's and almost sophomoric innuendo. She started to lose her nerve, both because of that, and because she was nervous. Could she really do this? She wasn't sure if she was more worried about rejection or about success. Would a man really just fall at her feet? And if he did, could she keep him under control? She stopped, just inside the door, a worried and slightly confused look on her face.

And then she saw him. He was probably in his late 20's, a little younger than her, but old enough that he didn't look like a boy. He was not some ripped stud, but rather an above average guy but with an incredible smile. She saw him laughing with another colleague as he entered and his smile lit up the room. She walked in, tingling with excitement, and as she passed him, Kristin smiled right into his deep warm brown eyes.  She felt the electricity jump between them and butterflies settled into her stomach.

She walked further into the store, her hips swaying, she hoped not too obviously. Her heart pounded with desire and nervousness. She did not dare to look back to see if he followed her. These large chain stores were always nearly identical in their layout and she headed for the section with various hardware like nails and screws. She almost giggled thinking about it.  

She reached the section she wanted a moment or two later and began to look over the various products.  Her mind wasn't really registering any specific item on the shelf and her eyes darted up and down the empty aisle, waiting to see who might show up. And then he was walking toward her. Almost instinctively, Kristin bent at the waist, her skirt rising nearly to indecent levels, to look at something on the very bottom shelf. As he approached, she straightened up, but she did not make eye contact.

He cleared his throat. "Um, can I help you?" he asked, his voice possibly a little shaky, she certainly thought so. Kristin slowly turned and met his eyes.  The man was about 5'10" tall, a good half foot taller than her, and his smile, now a little nervous, was the kind that just made you want to be friends with him.  She felt butterflies in her stomach and self doubt started to creep in. She was glad she had a script in her head, and she hoped he wouldn't ruin it.

"Oh, yes, thank you." She almost, but didn't quite, bat her eyelashes, "I have a big project I'm just getting started on, and I think maybe you could help me with what I need." She almost laughed at herself, which was not good for her state of arousal, but did help to calm her nerves.

"Well, um, I take it you need some kind of fastener for the project? Are you hanging pictures or building a playhouse or maybe a high rise building?" He kind of chuckled with the last, obviously trying to flirt and tease with her a little.

"Well, what I think I need, " she looked him right in the eye as she said it, "is a good screw." 

Kristin couldn't see herself in the mirror but warmth in her face and chest suggested that the hardware store guy was not only the only one slightly red and flushed. She kept her gaze right on him, except for one, quick flick to his crotch, where she was rewarded with a slight bulge that appeared to be growing. 

Kristin could tell the guy was fumbling with what to say next. Obviously he didn't want to say something to a customer that would get him in trouble, but she could tell he was interested. She pressed forward, "and I'm pretty certain I need a special tool. Do you think you can help me find a special tool and a good screw?"  She was really getting into this now. He was clearly hooked and her glances at his now bulging crotch were making it very clear what she was driving at.

He stumbled for a second, trying to find his voice, and then said "Well, I think this might be something for our home delivery service? Maybe I could get your phone number?"  

She almost laughed. Kristin loved the fact that he was clearly playing the game. Her smile let him know.

"Oh, dear." She feigned deep concern "I don't think my project can wait to arrange for home delivery." She winked at him. "I was hoping you might have that special tool in a back room somewhere?" She looked at him with raised eyebrows batting her painted lids.

He looked around nervously, clearly unsure what to do. Kristin pretty much knew where the back storerooms were, but didn't know if they'd be empty.  She simply turned and started walking toward the back of the store.  Her heart was starting to pound and she was both aroused and nervous. She hoped they could find someplace, and quickly.  She could hear him walking quickly behind her. As she got to the back of the store he quietly said "to the left."  Kristin turned and there, along the wall was a door. 

She opened the door and entered the room, it was dark and she couldn't see much. Before her eyes adjusted, he was right behind her, pushing her into the room. His hands grabbed her hips and directed her forward. In a moment, she was up against a table with a few papers scattered across it.  The click of the door at it closed behind her made her jump just a little. Her heart was pounding and his hands began to slide up and down her body, groping at her breasts and ass. She felt him press against her, the bulge in his pants making Kristin feel excited by the effect she had on him. His lips were at her neck when he panted "you're so sexy."

Kristin whispered back "shhh." She didn't want conversation. Bending over the table and resting her weight on it she reached back and pulled her dress up to reveal her ass and pussy.  She spread her legs and a gasp sounded behind her.  His hand tentatively began to caress her ass. Kristin's heart was pounding and her mind racing. She had never exposed herself like this to anyone but Mark. 

The man's hand was now exploring her bare ass and her mind raced with both erotic desire and fearful doubts.  This was so hot, seducing this man she had just met. It made her feel desired and sexy. And the sluttiness of it made her pussy tingle and throb. But could she really let him fuck her? This was so different than what she had always chosen. Maybe the fantasy was best left just a fantasy? Should she run?

Just then his fingers slid along her slit and she gasped.  He brushed her sensitive clit sending shudders through her whole body.  Kristin hissed, "Fuck me!" She paused, "Now!"  The act of commanding him and using language that she would never use in polite society sent shivers of arousal through her body.

She could hear him fumbling with his belt and pants and she almost wanted to scream.  She was both impatient with desire and worried she would lose her nerve. She heard the pants drop to the floor and then his hand was on her hip. Almost immediately Kristin felt his cock begin to push into her waiting pussy. She could feel her lips parting around his head.  The shaft of his cock filled her tunnel, and she felt that she could suck him into her. For a moment, the only things in the world were her pussy and his cock filling it.

Kristin's mind reeled with emotions. She was being fucked by a complete stranger. It was her fantasy coming true and her arousal was the most intense feeling she had ever experienced.  His hands pulled at her hips and he began to slide in and out of her slowly.  She pushed back, wanting him to take her, willing him to just fuck her. His pace quickened and Kristen began to feel her orgasm welling up inside. She could hear the slap-slap of their bodies coming together as his thrusts became more powerful, pushing her against the table. He groaned as he began to cum, his grip on her hips so tight, she knew it would leave a mark. And that sent her over the edge.  Every muscle in her body tensed and released as each wave of her orgasm crashed over her. Kristin gasped with the intensity of it, biting her lip to keep from screaming.

In a moment, it was over. His thrusting slowed and then stopped. They stood there and Kristin could feel his cock softening inside her.  As the last shudders of her orgasm melted away, Kristin realized she didn't know for sure what to do next. In fact, she was feeling slightly panicky and just wanted to run in embarrassment.  She began to straighten up, pushing off the table and he slipped out of her.  Her dress fell back over her bare ass.  Twisting and wiggling, she moved out from between him and the table. 

The man reached out to wrap his arms around Kristin.  She put one hand on his chest, moving herself away and look him in the eyes and simply said "Thanks, I needed that." The stunned and puzzled look on his face was priceless and she almost laughed. 

He started to speak "What's your name...how can we ..." 

Kristin interrupted him by putting one finger on his mouth and one on hers and hissing "Shhhhhh."  She then turned and, leaving him with his pants around his ankles, took the few steps to the door. As she opened the door to leave, he whisper-yelled, "Hey, wait, I don't even know your name." 

Kristin just walked out the door; she could hear him scrambling to pull his pants back up.  A cascade of emotions swirled in her brain: excitement, fear, shame, arousal, pride and satisfaction.  She hardly remembered the path she took through the store to the exit, only remembering the eyes of people she passed. She felt like she was keeping an immense secret, but that maybe some of these people could see into her.  Did they know she had just let a man fuck her in the back room? The idea that maybe someone did was arousing.

As Kristin left the store, she could feel cum starting to drip down her leg. While at some level it was uncomfortable, the physical reminder of the tryst simply amped up her arousal. As the warm sun hit her, she felt more alive, and more aroused that she really had ever experienced before.  She got to her car, trembling and still quite sexually stimulated.  She sat there for a minute, remembering the sensation of his cock sliding into her pussy.  Pulling the dress up, she slid her fingers into her sloppy wetness. Her eyes closed as she replayed the scene in her mind, reliving the excitement of being fucked by total stranger in a semi-public place. It was only moments before the combination of her mind and fingers brought an earth shattering orgasm to her body. She could feel his cum, squeezing out of her and sliding down her crack as her muscles clenched around her fingers.

As the final waves of pleasure rippled through her, she opened her eyes, slightly worried that someone had seen, or heard, her. Sensing no one, Kristin sat for a moment, catching her breath. As her body slowly came down from the erotic high she had been riding, she as first sighed in exquisite bliss . For the first time, in possibly her whole life, she felt satisfied. She had taken what she wanted. She had seen the desire in the man's face, felt his passion as he fucked her - god that sounded so good in her mind: "As he fucked her."  Slowly, still trembling slightly, she began the drive back home. She toyed with the idea of seeking out another encounter.  The wet stain on her dress, and the work she need to accomplish pushed those fantasies away.  But as she pulled in to the driveway, her mind was already mulling over her next escapade.



Permission Ch. 04



Kristen woke the next morning, with an excitement she could not really remember feeling ever before.  As usual, Mark had left early and she began her morning routine.  She showered, taking some care to touch up her shaving, although most of it was still quite smooth and soft.  After he shower, she moved to her bureau. An indulgence she had allowed herself early in life to hold the sexy, frilly, lacy things every women collects. She knew just which lacy thing she wanted. A pink baby doll nightie made of thin silk. It was not quite see through, but it was short and left very little to the imagination.  Selecting a soft terry cloth robe from her closet allowed her a modicum of modesty.

Kristin grabbed a few silk scarves from her collection and then walked to the guest bedroom, which also doubled as their home office. She securely tied one scarf to each corner of the bed, hiding them, so they weren't obvious, but still easy to retrieve. Next, she pulled her vibrator from her secret hiding spot in the closet and placed it in the middle of the bed, ruffling the bedspread so that it looked slightly disheveled. Finally, she went to the computer and simply unplugged the Ethernet cable from the back of the modem, and unplugged the keyboard from the back of the tower. 



In the kitchen, Kristin made breakfast and waited for her plan to begin. At a few minutes after 10:00 a.m., the doorbell rang as she expected. She took a quick look out the window, to confirm all was well and saw the computer guy from the local store standing there, with a clip board in his hand.  Her heart began to pound as she stashed the robe behind the couch and slowly made her way to the door.  Her hand resting on the knob, the bell rang again and she almost lost her nerve. Her mind was racing; she was nearly naked in just her nightie and about to let a strange man into her home. A man she hoped to seduce and have her way with. 

Her pussy was throbbing at the thought. Visions of the man she would tie to the bed were already dancing in her head and she threw the door open. In her most breathless voice she said "Oh thank God you're finally here." The man standing on her porch was somewhat taller than she had expected with an athletic build. When she called the computer store she was imagining a geeky nerdy type, but the man who stood before her clearly went to the gym with some regularity.  As her eyes met his, she was pleased to see a look of surprise, lust and confusion on his face.  

"Hi," he finally managed to blurt out, "I'm Marv, from Computer Station, and I've come to fix your computer?" 

"Please, please come in, Marv, let me show you where it is." She ushered him in off the porch, then took his hand in hers and began to lead him down the hallway to the spare bedroom.  She could feel her ass being exposed to him as the light fabric of the nightie floated and swished with every step. 

"It just stopped working yesterday," she said pretending to be confused, "I can't get on the internet and I can't type anything." As they entered the room, she let him pass her as she stopped at the end of the bed. She could see his eyes, taking in the vibrator, but he moved right on to the computer.  She had to give him credit, he was doing a good job remaining professional, in spite of the bulge she could see in his chinos.

Marv sat in the chair, and she almost laughed: staying seated, she knew, was one way to make the bulge less noticeable. He turned the master switch on the power strip on and the tower and the screen began to fire up. He swiveled in the chair, and holding the clipboard across his lap, looked back at her. He was trying hard to keep his gaze on her face, be she could see his eyes darting up and down her body as she stood in front of him. "Were you using the computer when it stopped working? Or did you turn it on and find out that it wasn't working?"

She tried to act a little embarrassed, and it wasn't difficult. "Well, I was using it at the time." 

"Can you tell me exactly what you were doing, when it stopped working?" His gaze was getting lazier as his eyes roved her body.  Kristin's arousal was building. He was far better looking that she had expected when she phoned for a computer geek, and to see the desire in his eyes as they roamed her body made her pussy tingle with anticipation. 

"Well," she kind of cleared her throat, "I was, um....chatting...with a friend on Skype...and all of a sudden, it just cut off."

Marv kind of chuckled and then turned around and began to inspect the various connections. She could tell he had obviously found her unplugged cables, but he didn't just reconnect them. Kristin knew that for simple things like this, there was usually no fee beyond the basic service call, which had already been charged when she called. She had planned on telling the tech she would give him a special reward for fixing everything so cheaply, in order to get him into bed. But she realized that her plan was going awry when he turned, with a Cheshire cat grin on his face, and said "I think I can fix it quickly, and for no charge, but only if you'll do something for me."

Kristin's heart pounded.  This wasn't exactly her plan and she was, partly, terrified.  She realized in many ways she was nearly helpless. Yet her pussy was nearly dripping in excitement. He was taking charge and coming onto her. The desire in his eyes, his voice and the obvious bulge in his pants excited her and she found herself nodding yes as she said "Ooh, and what would that be?"

"I want you to masturbate for me." He almost stammered the word masturbate. "I want to watch you use that toy," he nodded at the vibrator on the bed. 

Kristin's heart kind of skipped a beat when he said masturbate, but she was also a little disappointed.  She smiled at him, and sat on the edge of the bed. The short baby doll nightie rose up, revealing her smooth shaved pussy to him and he gasped. Reaching behind her, she took the vibrator and began to tease her already swollen pussy with it.  She looked as his face as he was transfixed by watching the vibrator slide along her wet swollen lips. She realized she was going to cum quickly, and she leaned back and began to work the vibrator deep into her pussy. She could feel the vibrations through her g-spot as she deftly worked the machine in and out of her tunnel. After only a few short moments, she knew she was close. Sliding the vibrator out, she quietly asked him. "Do you want me to cum?"

The poor boy was probably near to cumming himself. She could see his hand on his crotch, and his breath was coming in short puffs.  He was nodding, and Kristin said "Then let me see your cock."  

The clipboard fell from his other hand as he turned red in the face, "Oh, god, really?" His voice cracked with both hope and fear. 

Kristin nodded at his crotch. "I want to see what makes that bulge" she practically purred.

The tech slowly stood and began to undo his belt. Kristin resumed teasing herself with the vibrator, as she watch his tan slacks fall to the floor, followed by his briefs.  His cock, purple with excitement, stood rigid at attention, as did he. Kristin laid back onto the bed, her eyes never leaving his cock, and began to fuck herself deeply with the vibrator. Her other hand began to caress and pinch her nipples through the fabric of the nightie, she was close to coming and her breath came in ragged gasps. 

Kristin watched as his hand wrapped around his cock and he began to play with himself.  Each stroke of his fist hid and then revealed his purple head.  She could feel her orgasm building and she wanted to let go, but she didn't want him to cum, at least not yet. "Don't stroke yourself," she gasped.  She glanced at his face and he was clearly conflicted, but his hand stopped. "Just let me look at your cock," her voice a whisper. She plunged the vibrator deep into herself, hitting her g-spot with practiced precision, and let her fingers begin to swirl around her clit. It took only seconds and then she moaned, "I'm going to cummmm."  Her hips bucked against the sensation as the warm waves of orgasm rippled through her body. She saw him grasping his cock again and managed to blurt out "wait" as she exploded against the vibrator.  She saw his face register her command and his amazement at the gushing orgasm she was having. Kristin's eyes closed, as the final waves pulsed through her.

She slipped the vibrator, now slick with her juices, from her pussy, and began to sit up.  The techs hand, was again wrapped around his cock, and she knew he must be close. "Come here, and stop stroking, I have a better idea," she ordered.  The tech used every ounce of restraint he had left to stop and take the three steps to the bed.  Kristin stood from the bed, took him by the shoulders, turned him and sat him back onto the mattress. 

"Lay back, and I'll take care of that" she whispered in his ear as she gently pushed him back. Helping him to slide up onto the bed, his knees still dangled over the edge. Kristin could see the pre-cum oozing from his tip and she crawled onto the bed next to him and wordlessly took him into her mouth.  Her hand wrapped around the base as her lips slowly parted and slid over the head and down his shaft. As she slowly pulled back up she felt him throb and his cum began to erupt into her mouth. Kristin sucked and swallowed, her lips still sliding up and down the shaft. The feeling of his eruption was arousing, knowing that her performance had elicited this was a powerful feeling. Kristin's pulse quickened as he gasped with each throbbing pulse of cum filling her mouth.

As she felt his orgasm begin to subside, Kristin gave him a few last strokes of her lips and then sat up, looking into his eyes and smiled. "So, you'll fix my computer now?" 

Marv sighed with satisfaction and nodded, smiling too as their eyes locked.  He laid there for a moment more, and Kristin let her eyes wander his body. She watched as his erection softened.  There was something erotic about watching a man so satisfied. She let her fingers slide up and down his thigh a little. He began to rise and Kristin slid off the bed and stood beside the desk, her mind racing with her next moves.  She could feel her pussy tingling, she hoped that was only the beginning, but she knew he probably needed a little time to recover.  

Marv got up off the bed and then began to gather his clothes. "Stop," Kristin commanded, her voice slightly harsher and more commanding than she had meant. "I want you to fix it naked." 

The tech gasped, "um...but...I..." His faced flushed red. 

"Take off your shirt." Her voice level, her eyes focused on his face, he looked at her, and nodded, standing and slowly slipping his shirt over his head.  "Fair is fair," she smiled as she too peeled the baby-doll nightie off revealing her breasts, nipples still hard.  She could see him gasp at her naked body, and the stirrings of a new erection began in his soft, but not flaccid, cock. 

He sat back down at the computer, and slowly made the proper connections, first re-attaching the network cable, then plugging in the key board.  

Using the mouse, he highlighted the internet browser and double clicked, as the screen came up it went to the home page she had set up last night, which was a video of a woman riding a man cowgirl style on a bed. She could see his face flush. Leaning down, she whispered. "Click on it."  

She could see his hands trembling as the pointer started the video and the woman's body undulated.  The tech turned and looked up at Kristin, his eyes wide with arousal and almost awe.  She could see his cock hardening. She straightened up saying, "It seems to work just fine now, thank you so much."  

"Um...ok...um, you're welcome, and ...um...there's no charge." He tried to look 'cool' and conspiratorial when he said 'no charge,' but his erection, flushing face and slight embarrassment over the still moaning woman on the screen made the words come out like the plea that it really was. Kristin was excited by the effect she was having on him.

"Oh, thank you," she purred as she stepped next to him. With one hand she grasped his shoulder and leaned in to kiss him. As their lips met, her fingers brushed up his stiffening shaft. He moaned into her mouth, an almost whimper of desire. Kristin guided him to the bed. The short video had ended and she whispered, "That's my favorite position."  He was not slow on the uptake and immediately slid onto the bed on his back.  As she had hoped, he positioned himself right in the middle.  Kristin climbed onto the bed, crawling on her hands and knees over him, until her face was above his. She leaned down and kissed him. Pushing his arms above his head, she whispered, "There's one more thing." Her hands reached up and quickly tied his with the prepositioned scarves.

Kristin had worried that he might object to being tied up, but moaned slightly as she tied each wrist.  Kristin began kissing him, first a few soft brushes against his lips, then down his chest, the curly hair tickling her sensitive lips.  As she reached his cock, she planted slow kisses down the shaft, barely teasing him as he moaned his approval. 

Turning slightly, she pulled the scarves at the foot of the bed up, and tied his feet too.

"You don't really need to tie me," His voice thick with arousal, "I'd do anything you want, you know." Kristin's stomach fluttered with his last words and she looked at him.  His face was flush and his gasps came in quick pants.  His cock, fully erect and beginning to throb, further betrayed the truth of his words.

Kristin positioned herself so she was sitting on his thighs. Her finger tips began to just graze and tease his balls and the shaft of his cock. He moaned and his back arched slightly. Looking straight into his eyes she said "Do you find me attractive?"  

A big smile crossed the tech's face, "Oh god yeah, lady, you're fucking hot."

The words shot through her body.  Her pussy began to ache and she knew what she wanted.  Her hands began to lazily caress her breasts, "You'd do anything I want?" 

The innocent earnestness in his face, and the almost begging to his voice left her no doubt of his desire when his breathless "yes" coincided with his nodding head. 

Kristin turned around and slid up his body, positioning her pussy just above his face. The exhilaration as she said "then eat me" nearly brought her to orgasm. His tongue darted into her tunnel and wandered along the folds of her lips.  Kristin had never been even kissed there and so she could hardly tell if Marv had any experience or not. His licks seemed disorganized, but god, the feeling with each one, knowing that he wanted her, and seeing his cock, right in front of her face, throbbing with his excitement, meant that technique was less important than the action. She pushed down a little more, feeling his lips against her freshly shaven pussy. His tongue dug deeper and pushed harder against her, each stroke, just flicking at her clit. She moaned when finally swirled around her clit, and he got the message and began to focus his tongue there. 

She closed her eyes, and focused only on the pleasing sensation of his wandering tongue swirling and teasing at her swollen bud.  He pushed into her tunnel, and she pushed back, perhaps too hard, but she didn't care. Each lick was like magic. Kristin could feel another orgasm building as he began to find a rhythm against her clit. She moaned her pleasure and breathed, "Ooh, god, lick me right there."  

The tech began to moan against her pussy, and the deep vibrations added to the pleasure of his tongue.  Her pussy was beginning to pulse. Usually Kristin preferred orgasms with g-spot stimulation, but the sheer audacity of fucking his face like this aroused her and she began to cum. Her hands clenched the covers and she pushed her pussy against his face as she squealed her delight.  It was not a world rocking orgasm, and it passed in just a few waves, but it was perfect for the moment.  

Kristin rolled off him and sat next to him on the bed, leaning against him with her arm across his chest.  His face was shiny with her juices.  He looked into her eyes, his face registering almost pain at his growing and unresolved arousal.  "Was that what you needed?" He asked.

Kristin smiled at him. "For openers" she chuckled, as her breathing began to return to normal.  "Have you ever done that before?" 

His face registered a little embarrassment, and he quietly said "Well, I've never really had a girlfriend that was serious enough for that...." His voice trailed off. He paused a moment, and said "I'm sorry if I wasn't very good."

Kristin laughed "Oh, it was good enough. Maybe I'll let you practice again. But first, I need something else." His eyes lit up so brightly with hope that she almost laughed. She straddled him again, sitting on his thighs and began to tease him with her fingers. Caressing all around, but not quite touching him, she watched his cock as it throbbed and bounced.  Her body was so alive, the experience of just taking what she wanted, and having him desire her body was amazing. 

Kristin slid forward and lined up on his cock.  Watching his face, she thrust down onto him, her pussy still wet from her earlier orgasms; he slid deep and firmly into her.  His face registered the pleasure his cock was feeling, as he moaned "oh god, yes." Kristin started slow, her hips rising and falling, grinding to push his cock against her g-spot. She could see him watching her: watching her pussy sliding up and down him and her breasts, bouncing with each stroke.  His lust for her was apparent, and she loved the way he watched her.  She cupped her breasts, and pinched her nipples between her fingers. Doing as much now for show as for her own pleasure.

With each thrust, his head pushed against her g-spot, which was neglected in the previous orgasm, it took only a few strokes for the feelings pleasure to begin to overwhelm her.  She could tell that he was near orgasm, and his hips began to buck against her. He gasped and moaned; his back arching as she fucked him harder and harder.  Her orgasm was nearly upon her, but she could feel his subsiding.  She worried for just a moment that he would go soft before she came, but then her orgasm overtook her. She thrashed and her back arched.  She let herself fall against him, her hips rolling and bucking as her head pressed into his chest.  His warm body against hers helped the waves of sensation ripple through her.  Part of her wanted his arms free to pull her against him, but she loved the feeling of control as she rode him through her whole orgasm.  

As she finally came to rest, she could feel him beginning to soften inside her and their mixed juices already beginning to slip out of her.  She looked up into his face, and rested her chin on hands folded across his chest.  His eyes opened and he looked down at her, smiling through his quick gasps of breath.  Kristin felt both satiated and slutty.  Her body tingled from the multiple orgasms and she was sticky with cum and sweat.  She lay there, just looking at him, and he at her. 

Finally, with some trepidation, he asked "Was that ok?"

Kristin smiled, "oh yes, that was just the service that I needed."  

She chuckled and it took him a minute to get the joke.  She untied him, and began to hand him his clothes. He registered some disappointment that it was apparently over, but silently dressed and gathered his clipboard.  Kristin slipped the nightie back on, and soon they were walking toward the door.  He stopped at the front door and turned. A little embarrassed, "Um, I need you to sign that I fixed your problem." 

Kristin laughed. "Oh, I certainly will!" He laughed, relieved at the joke. "Leave me your card," she said, "In case I ever have another problem, I want to be sure to ask for you."  




Permission Ch. 04



He fumbled, clearly still nervous, and found a card in one of his pockets.  He turned it over and wrote a phone number on the back, "if you want to bypass the store, I can make your service call on my own, um...if you want."

As Kristin locked the door behind him and walked back toward the guest bedroom, her body buzzed with the satisfaction of multiple orgasms. Her mind replayed the desire on his face and the way his cock felt inside her. She had loved the control: the taking of what she wanted; the sensation of his lips on her pussy and his cock deep inside her.  But her mind was already planning her next encounter.



Permission Ch. 05



The rest of the week was busy, and Kristin only had a little time in the mornings to masturbate while she replayed the events of the week in her mind. On Friday night, Mark came home a little early, and was in a pretty good mood. Apparently he was coming in on schedule and with no major problems on two projects, and so was feeling a lot relief.  They joked and laughed, and had a little wine with dinner.  Kristin was washing the dishes when Mark slipped up behind her, wrapping his arms around her and whispered in her ear "and how is my little slut's project going."

Kristin gasped.  Her stomach filled with excited butterflies at the word "slut."  She registered that the tone was flirty, even aroused, which was confirmed by what she could feel pressing against her ass. Her heart pounded as her mind raced with how to reply, but Mark began to pull away a little as she turned to face him.  

She grabbed his arms before he could break the embrace, and his eyes dropped, as he began to mumble "Shit, I'm...I'm sorry...I didn't, you're not..." His voice was soft and low; hardly a whisper.

Kristin put a single finger on his lips.  "Shhhhh, say it again."

Mark's eyes widened in surprise and their eyes locked. Kristin pulled him closer, pulling his bulge against her, willing him, with her eyes, to speak again.

Mark's face flushed but he began again, "Is your project going well?"  

She could tell he didn't want an answer, but she was disappointed that he had lost the edge to his voice, and especially, that he had not called her a slut again.  She shook her head no and mouthed "say it all." 

This time his surprise was less and she saw a hint of desire. His voice was nervous but forceful, "is my little slut's project going well?" 

She had no idea why, but his voice, so deep and resonant, and the words "my little slut" made her feel more aroused than anything she had done yet. She breathed for a moment, and then reaching down and to cup his erection, she said "your little slut needs this right now."

Mark throbbed in her hand, and she gasped. His arms pulled her against him and his mouth covered hers.  His kiss was passionate and wanton, foreshadowing, how he would take her.  Mark broke the kiss, spun her around, and bent her over the kitchen sink. His hands pushed her long skirt up onto her back, and peeled her underwear down. She heard him unzip, then he was pressing into her with a force and passion he'd never displayed.  God, yes, pushed back against him, arching her back to open herself to him. His hands grasped her hips as he pounded into her. He was fucking her. He had never fucked her before.  His body completely overtaking his mind, letting his basest emotions erupts in passion.  



She loved the feeling of his strong hands pulling her onto him. She cried "god, yes, Mark, fuck me..." words that would have otherwise embarrassed her were it not for the situation. 

It didn't take him long, and she could hear his breath turn into ragged gasps as hips began to buck hard against her. She felt his groans of pleasure deep inside her and womanhood convulsed in orgasm with him.  

In a moment it was over.  She felt Mark slip out of her and step back. She straightened up and turned around to face him. Kristin felt more love and satisfaction than she ever knew before. Before she could do or say anything, he quickly turned and left the room. A look of uncertainty settled on Kristin's face as she stood there. Her lips quivered and tears began to well and burn in her eyes before they rolled downs her cheek.



Permission Ch. 06



Kristin and Mark didn't speak of the incident at all through the weekend. They did the usual chores , talked about work, and some minor house repairs. Kristin was confused. Mark didn't seem mad at her, instead, he was remarkably solicitous through the rest of the weekend. He cooked and did the dishes, hugged her through the night and into the mornings. She tried to initiate sex, but he seemed uninterested and unwilling. Not really rejecting her, per se, but the act perhaps. By Monday morning, they were back to their old routine, and Mark was up and out early again.

Kristin lay in bed wondering what to do. Last week she had planned for some time early this week for play during the day again. Her flexible, work from home independent contractor job, was nice for this, since she didn't have to punch a clock, only meet certain deadlines. But the events of the weekend had left her confused and she wasn't even sure she was in the mood. Slowly, she rose from bed and made her way to the shower. It had been nearly a week since she had shaved and trimmed, and so, in spite of no plan she carefully shaved her legs. As each stroke revealed the smooth, soft skin of her body, Kristin felt the uncertainty of the situation peel away. Mark had not seemed angry or upset. But it was clear that something about the encounter had bothered him. She wondered if perhaps he thought he had hurt her either emotionally or physically. Or maybe he was uncomfortable with that side of her. Or possibly, that side of him?

As she slowly lathered up her pubic area, Kristin's desire began to well up again. She replayed the feeling of being bent over the sink, and Mark's firm hands as he pounded her. She needed to be taken. To be fucked like that. And she would get what she wanted.

Having decided, in the shower, what she wanted for the day, Kristin donned another sundress. They were sexy, and made all kinds of things easy. Leaving her panties off, made her feel naughty and excited, ready for whatever she found that turned her on. She made a list of errands she needed to get done and she hopped into the car and headed off. 

She started at the library, returning a few books and browsing a little in the new books section and the romance novel section. The place was dead, and while the idea of sex in the stacks was an ongoing fantasy, it wasn't going to happen this morning. She took a couple books to check out and then headed off to her next errand. 

Her next stop was the office supply store. There were not many more people here, but she saw a businessman walking in just ahead of her. He looked to be about 45 years old, remarkably handsome with broad shoulders, a nice butt and a classic GQ face. He had on what were clearly the pants from a pricey suit and a red tie that screamed "power tie." She giggled a little as she imagined grabbing him by the tie and kissing him. 

She maneuvered over to the businessman's aisle and pretended to browse the shelves. He was in the aisle with file folders, hanging folders, accordion folders and such. At first, he hardly registered her, but as she slowly browsed down the aisle, Kristin caught him taking a lingering look. When his eyes darted to her, she bent at the waist to look at something on the bottom shelf. She didn't really catch his expression, but when she straightened up and glanced over at him, he seemed much less focused on file folders. His glances her way became more frequent, and they lingered longer and longer. She smiled; it felt so good to see a man look at her that way. 

Slowly, Kristin closed the gap between the two of them. He pretty much stayed put, pretending to carefully read each of the descriptions on boxes of file folders. When she only a few steps from him, she turned so that her back was to him and bent over again. She could see him turn and look at her ass. She straightened up again, and then turned to find him fiercely studying the product description of tabbed manila folders. "Do you see anything you like?" She asked, with just a playful hint in her voice. 

Startled , the man turned and quickly said, "well, um, uh, I guess these will do." And with that, he walked away. Kristin realized that he probably didn't want to be caught ogling her, and frankly the office supply store was an unlikely place for a hook up. His lingering looks had been nice though. She enjoyed feeling desired. 

After checking out at the office supply store, Kristin drove to a high rise office building to drop off the project she had completed the week before at the client's office. She certainly did not want to get involved with a client, and frankly, she giggled, Mrs. Torrent – the client - was really not her type. So Kristin had pushed the excitement from her flirting down while she drove to the building. As she came through the tunnel from the parking lot to the elevator lobby, she saw the man from the office supply store, now wearing his suit coat, just pushing the button to call the elevator. There was something about a suit that could just make her insides melt. She caught up and hopped on the carriage just behind him. His eyebrows rose as he pushed a floor two below her selection and he recognized her. "So," his voice more confident than in the store, "do you work here or are you just following me?" His slight chuckle at the end betrayed some hope in his voice that she was, indeed, following him.

Kristin held up the report, "I'm dropping this off to Torrent & Molden, I do freelance work." She looked at him and with her best flirty look said "Do you think there's anything I could do for you?" She almost winked at him, but decided that would be too forward.

The corners of his mouth twitched into a smile and he looked briefly at his watch. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a business card just as the elevator stopped at his floor. "I have a little time this morning, if you want to discuss..." he paused and gave her a look that almost stopped her heart "what you could do for me, stop by on your way out." He handed her the card and stepped of the elevator. The door closed as she watched him walk away. 

Kristin's heart pounded with excitement. She took the card: Richard DeWitte was a lawyer, specializing in corporate contracts, and likely had no need for her type of work. THalche look he had given her was filled with desire and power. Almost as though he expected her to just follow him, right then. She was actually a little scared; this might be more than she bargained for. 

As the doors opened on her floor, she got off and went to Kathy Torrent's office. "I've got your project all done" she announced as she poked her head through the door after her knock was answered. 

"Oh good!" Kathy exclaimed, " I need that this afternoon for a meeting." 

They chatted for a moment about the details and as they started to say goodbye, Kristin pulled out the business card and asked "Do you know anything about the lawyer, Richard DeWitte? I just met him in the elevator and he might have some work for me." 

Kathy looked puzzled and then shrugged, "Well, he's incredibly successful and from what little I know, a pretty good guy. I've never heard any bad talk about him, although a few people have said he's quite the ladies man." Then she smiled conspiratorially, "Which is understandable, he's damn hot if you ask me." Her wink made them both giggle. Kristin's stomach was filling with butterflies as her mind contemplated stopping off on the way down. It was a little bit dangerous, and a lot a bit exciting. If she didn't like the situation, she could always just get up and leave.

Kristin took the elevator down the two floors and got off. Richard's office suite was larger than Kathy's, taking up nearly half the floor and the receptionist was a gorgeous young blonde woman. Kristin felt her excitement waiver. There is no way he was really attracted to me, he's probably banging his receptionist and half the women in this building. Her doubts made her stop about ten feet from the front desk. She was about to turn and run back to the elevator, when the receptionist said "Hi, can I help you find someone?" 

Kristin took a deep breath, "Well, I met Mr. DeWitte on the elevator, and he suggested that he might have some freelance work for me?" She cursed herself inside for her little girl hopeful voice that had taken over. 

But the receptionist only smiled and said "Oh, sure, I think he's free this morning, let me just buzz him."

A moment later, Kristin found herself being led back to a small executive lounge with huge windows looking out over the city. The room had a couch and few large soft chairs grouped around a low table. It was clearly the kind of place movers and shakers met to talk over big deals. She settled tenuously on the couch, unsure and somewhat out of her element. A few minutes later, Richard DeWitte entered the room and closed the door. He turned to face her and his eyes roved her body while his face registered a desire so burning and powerful that she felt it in the pit of her stomach. It sent tingles through her body. Their eyes locked and part of her wanted to stand and just grab him by his tie, but she resisted. 

He sat down in one of the chairs opposite her. "I'm glad you stopped by, you've been on my mind since our meeting in the store this morning."

His voice was so even, that she could for a moment believe they were simply talking about the weather or something. "Oh? And what, exactly did you have in mind after meeting me in the store?" She asked, her eyes flitting from his face to the rest of his body. 

He paused a moment, looking right into her eyes, clearly gauging a response and then with complete conviction said "Fucking you." 

The words were so powerful, his gaze so revealing, and so in tune with her thinking that they caught her completely off guard. Kristin's mouth opened, and while she wanted to be cool and say something like 'well, what's stopping you big boy' what came out was simply, "Well, OK." Her face flushed red with embarrassment, not at accepting his invitation, but because she wanted to appear more sophisticated.

Richard stood, his erection now apparent in his suit pants, and with one swift motion kicked the coffee table between them out of the way. Kristin began to stand and he reached his arm behind her and pulled her up against him. She could feel his bulge pushed against her, as his arms wrapped around her waist pulling her against him. Richard began to kiss her with a firey passion she had only read about. His tongue delved deep and swirled with hers, while his lips pressed firmly against her mouth. She moaned with her desire.

Richard's hands began to slide and caress her body. Gathering the fabric of her skirt, he slid one hand under it and grasped her bare ass. His moan registered his surprise at her lack of panties, while Kristin's echoing whimper revealed her pleasure from feeling his hands upon her bare skin. The stood, embracing, his hands roving her body at will, for another moment. Their passionate kisses punctuated by their moans of pleasure.

Slyly and swiftly, Richard unzipped the back of her dress and deftly released the clasps of her bra. Taking one step back, his fingers brushed up her bare spine and swept the material off her shoulders. With a shrug, Kristin aided the maneuver and her dress and bra fell to the floor, circling her feet. She stood, naked, before him. 

Kristin did not wait; she reached out and grabbed his belt and pants. Her fingers trembling with fear, excitement and desire, she began to open the package she wanted. Richard reached out and gently began to caress her bare breasts, sending shivers of pleasure through her nipples and spine. His fingers began to tease and tweak at her hardening nipples and Kristin began to find it difficult to concentrate on the buckle and buttons. She was nearly ready to give up, when his pants opened and began to slide down, revealing his dark blue boxers and his thick cock poking through the opening.

Smiling, she pushed the waistband down until it fell around his ankles. Her fingers reached out and wrapped around his shaft. She looked up into his face. His eyes danced with happiness and enjoyment as they met hers. Stepping even closer to her, he gently pushed her back onto the couch, where she fell, sprawling slightly against the back. Richard stood above her, and quickly shrugged off his coat and removed his tie. Kristin watched, her fingers dancing across her body as he revealed his by taking off his shirt. His body was athletic, she could see the sinewy muscles of an active man. His shoulders were broad, with just a little definition. His cock, now sticking out of his fly completely, was thick and throbbing with his heartbeat. Her fingers slid to her pussy and began to caress her lips and tease her clit.

Her heart raced as she felt Richard's eyes ravish her body. She ached to feel his hands and cock take her the way his gaze had. And then he knelt between her legs, one hand grabbing behind each knee, pushing her further onto her back, and spreading her wide before him. Her mind willed his cock toward her pussy, wanting to be filled by its thickness. But then his head bent and his mouth found her mons. He kissed the soft pad of flesh, just above her slit and then followed the crease of her leg, his lips brushing the freshly shaved sensitive skin of her sex, teasing her with what might come. Down one side, until he kissed the place between her ass and pussy. Then back up the other side. "Please," Kristin moaned and gasped, "lick me there." 

Richard looked up at her briefly, a wicked smile on his lips. His head bent and his tongue just barely touched her between her pussy and ass. Slowly, so slowly that she wanted to scream, and lightly, so lightly that at times she thought he wasn't even touching her, his tongue slid up along her slit. As he reached the top, where her aching clit was screaming for his attention, it disappeared. Kristin gasped "please....please..." she begged. 

Again, Richard's tongue began the slow, long lick from her ass. He pressed only slightly harder this time, the torture was exquisite. Kristin wanted to reach down and grab his head and push him into her. Her clit was aching with desire, and he pussy wanted something in it: something thick and hard. 

As he finished his third wicked teasing lick, he paused then swirled his tongue around her clit. His lips closed against her, and she felt him sucking her clit against his tongue. Her body began to shake, and her hands closed over his head to urge him deeper. 

She felt his hand leave her right thigh and grasp her wrist. He firmly guided her hand to her leg. Kristin took the hint and let his head go, his tongue still swirling around her clit, she was beginning to feel the warm, deep sensations of her building orgasm. His hands slid down her legs as she took up the duty of holding them up and apart, spreading herself open for him. As he reached her crotch, she felt his finger slide into her pussy. "Yesssss..." she hissed as he filled her.

Richard's tongue and lips continued their attention to her clit as he began to finger fuck her. First one, then two fingers slid in and out of her pussy. Kristin could feel her juices running down her ass as her whole existence vibrated with her arousal. And when his finger brushed her anus, she squealed. She had never been touched there before and the sensation shot through her with pleasure and some fear. But she could hardly find a way to make words as his tongue and fingers brought her closer and closer to orgasm. She simply acquiesced to the new sensation, and the pleasure it brought as his finger began to penetrate her tight ass.

The fingers in her pussy found her g-spot and Kristin exploded. Her hips bucked against the intruding fingers and his face. She could only gasp and grunt as her body overwhelmed her mind with intense pulses of orgasmic pleasure. She came so hard it almost hurt. 

As her hips slowed and her breathing followed, she felt his tongue and fingers leave her. His hands slid up her inner thighs, and then back down until he grasped her hips. She looked down and saw that his boxers had been pushed to the floor. His balls, full and heavy, were covered in a dark fur, matching his original hair color. His cock thick and purple betrayed his excitement. He entered her swiftly and easily, his firm hands pulling her hips against him. 

Kristin dropped her legs and wrapped them around his waist. His eyes were closed as hips and body fell into a building rhythm. With each thrust he pounded into her with greater force and speed. His cockhead hit her g-spot each time and she began to feel herself beginning to ride the wave of a second orgasm. His face registered only the exquisite joy of the sensation and she could hear his breaths coming faster and deeper.

And then, swiftly, he stopped. His hands prying her legs off him he stood suddenly and Kristin, her eyes wide and desperate, cried "Wait, why?" 

Richard's face showed the difficulty he faced in deciding to stop, but his hand reached out to her. She took it, confused and almost desperate. He led her to the window and then turned her and pushed her toward it. His hands grasping her waist, he growled, "Spread your legs for me." 

Kristin complied almost automatically and leaned against the cool glass, supported by her hands. God yes, her mind raced. She felt so richly slutty, seeing the city spread out before her, as she was spread for him. Knowing that people in some of the buildings around her might be able to see her getting fucked hard made her both terrified and uniquely aroused. Richard grasped her hips and he thrust himself deep into her again, his movements forceful and passionate. Kristin pushed back against him, her chest meeting the glass as his force pounded into her again and again. She began to shake with another orgasm, as her mind fantasized about people in the offices across the city watching their wanton display. 

Just as she was about to cum, he stopped and slipped out, "Nooooo...keep going" she hissed as his hand left her hip.

Then Kristin felt his cock pushing her ass cheeks apart. "Wait..." she panted, unable to move because she was off balance against the glass, "I...I've never..." she stuttered. 

She wasn't sure she was willing to be fucked there, but the idea also aroused her and then Richard hissed "This is what crossed my mind in the store, fucking your gorgeous ass, you little slut...."

His words shot through her light lightning. Kristin's sex throbbed at being called a slut and her ass tingled as she felt his head begin to push against her tight opening. She pushed back against him as he slid deeper and deeper into her. The pain of his thick cock in her tight ass made her gasp and whimper, but her mind grasped upon how amazing it felt to hear him want her so fully. She needed this, to be used, taken in every hole, by a strong man who wanted her. 

Kristin dropped one hand from the window, supporting herself against it with her chest and shoulder. She began to finger herself, finding her sensitive clit first and then sliding deeper to fill her pussy. She could feel Richards cock through the back wall of her tunnel as it began to slowly slide in and out of her aching ass. He started with short, gentle strokes, but his speed and intensity grew with each thrust. As her pain gave way to pleasure and her fingers found her spot, Kristin exploded her orgasm like none she had experienced before. She could hear Richard groan as her hips rolled and bucked against him. She felt his hands pull her against him as he filled her dark tunnel with his cum.

In a moment she was spent, her body wracked with the pleasure of orgasm, his cock softening in her ass. Her breath began to slow as he slipped from inside of her. She scanned the buildings and streets below, to see if anyone was watching. But none were easily identifiable. Richard stepped away from her slightly sore ass. Kristin slowly stood and turned around, her holes dripping with their cum. He looked at her, somewhat sheepishly, similar to the startled look when she had asked him in the store if he saw anything he liked.




Permission Ch. 06



"I...um...enjoyed that" he offered, almost apologetic now. 

Kristin's heart sank a little. But she smiled at him and looked him in the eye and said "I loved it." She meant it. 

He smiled back, clearly pleased and then began to speak, "I.." but Kristin put one finger out and shushed him. She silently crossed the room and quickly donned her sundress, skipping the bra. Richard followed, but was much slower as he began to pull on his briefs. Stuffing her bra into her purse, Kristin took three steps to the door and opened it to leave.

"Shit..." he hissed, stumbling as he pulled his boxers up, "Wait, I'm not..."

But Kristin filled the open door and said, "I'll let you know what my ideas are, thanks so much for meeting me." She left and pulled the door closed behind her. 

"Why," she thought, "couldn't the men who desire and take her just accept that role without apology?"



Permission Ch. 07



Over the next few days Kristin enjoyed reliving the feeling of being taken in the ass against the window.  She put out of her mind, the ending and just focused on his passion and desire as he ate her and fucked both of her holes.  The wanton abandon of letting him have her any way he wanted was delicious and she masturbated again and again, reliving the episode in her mind. 

By Thursday morning, she wanted to be taken again and knew just the right opportunity.  Her old friends, Melissa and Susan, usually went out for "Ladies" night on Thursday evenings. There were good drink specials and many bars had no cover for women then. She had often gone with them, until her and Mark had started getting serious. And she knew that wherever they went would be a meat market.  

"Hey Susan," she said on the cell phone. "We haven't gotten together in ages and I was thinking about you and Melissa this morning."  Some light chit chat later and she was all set to meet them at a bar for dinner and then head out for a night of dancing.  She texted Mark and simply told him she was going out with some friends. He said he'd get dinner and put in some extra hours and meet her at home later.

Kristin got herself ready late in the afternoon.  She wore a classic 'little black dress' without any underwear at all.  It felt so naughty to be going out to a dance bar again. Although she went when she was younger, her rather reserved nature had kept her on the sidelines most of the time.  Tonight though, she planned to dive into the thick of things.

The evening started at a downtown restaurant well known locally for great appetizers and expensive drinks.  The three women each ordered a salad and shared plates of calamari, bruschetta and hummus.  Kristin ordered a white wine and they began to chat. The conversation ranged from work to gossip about people who were friends and people who weren't friends. It was Melissa who turned to Kristin and brashly asked the question that was apparently on everyone's mind "So, how's the marriage thing and why are going out with us?"

Kristin's ears burned red as she tried to hide her embarrassment. She should have known it was coming, Melissa was never one to pull punches. Before she could answer Susan broke in, "Melissa, seriously!? It's good to see her, whatever the reason. I'm sorry Kristin, just ignore her, you know Melissa" and rolled her eyes.

Kristin laughed, thinking, I'd love to tell you all about it, but I know how you gossip. She gave her best innocent shrug, "I really just wanted to spend some time with you. Mark had to work late tonight, and I remembered that we usually had some fun on Thursdays so I just called. If I'm going to hamper your moves" she wiggled her hands and they laughed, " then I can just head home before we get to the dance bar. But honestly, I just kind of feel like loud music and watching hot bodies!"  She raised her eyebrows conspiratorially and they all laughed.  They moved onto a new topic, after dinner, they left the quiet restaurant and headed to the dance bar.

The thrumming of the dance music and the spinning lights of the dance bar were as loud and overwhelming as Kristin remembered.  She was a little nervous, but she could see some heads turning toward her group and she hoped that some of them were for her.  They took a table a few rows back from the dance floor and managed to track down a waiter who brought them all drinks. Kristin stuck with white wine and sipped it slowly.  

The dance floor was still sparsely populated, but the evening was young and people drifted in and took tables or staked out their spot at the bar. There was a group of men, a few years younger than her, who sat near the dance floor. The men watched the action, ogling the few women dancing, while casting their eyes about the room evaluating the women. 

A song Kristin liked started playing, and she said "come on ladies! Let's dance!" Kristin rose and headed to the dance floor without looking back. On the dance floor she started to dance as she moved toward the table where the guys were.  About ten feet from them, she turned and found both her friends laughing and dancing with her.  Kristin's back was to the table of men and she made sure that her ass was wiggling enticingly. She occasionally tried to spin a little to see if she was getting the reaction she wanted. It seemed like it, but it was difficult to tell.

As the song ended, and another began, Melissa grabbed her hand and led them all back to the table.  "Oh but I liked that song," Kristin exclaimed, not really caring about the song, but wanting to stay on the floor.

"But did you see those guys?" Melissa whispered with a sneer, "they were ogling you like a cheap piece of meat." 

Kristin flushed with excitement. She pretended to laugh it off "I doubt it! They were probably looking at you two!" 

"Oh, no, I'm sure I saw one of them say, 'damn I'd like to' - you know - 'that chick in the black dress'" Melissa apparently didn't want to say 'fuck.'  

Kristin's heart beat a little faster at Melissa's words and she could feel her body tingle.  She wished she had heard the guy say that, and knew which one. But she couldn't very well reveal that to her friends.  "Well, now, I'm a married woman," she jokingly feigned indignity, "we certainly can't have any of that." They all laughed and resumed yelling at each other about inane topics over the loud music.

Kristin desperately needed to get back on the dance floor either in front of or with the guys, without her friends there.  She stole glances over at the guys table, and they seemed to be content, for now, to just watch. But she desperately wanted them to watch her.  

A few more songs played and then Melissa got up to go to the ladies room. Kristin waited a minute then said "I think I'm going to go dance again, I've missed it!" 

"I'm going to sit this one out, I'll watch your purse!" Susan was less a dancer than Melissa and Kristin had counted on that. "But stay away from those guys," Susan warned, "I think they could be big trouble." 

Kristin nodded and headed off to the other side of the dance floor. She started dancing and gave a wave at Susan who laughed and nodded back. It was getting busier now, and there were more people on the dance floor. Intending to evade the watchful eyes of her friends, she made her way to the center of the floor and got lost in the crowd.  As the first song ended and the second one began, she slid over toward the guys again and began to dance, this time facing them at first. She found it difficult to catch their eyes as they flitted from woman to woman.  Kristin turned, and let her hips roll and sway, hoping it would get the attention she wanted.  That's when she felt a hand slide over her ass. She gasped, and her first reaction, born of her earlier years of clubbing, was to get away. 

But she resisted and slowly turned to try to catch the culprit. Three men she hadn't noticed before were dancing near her They had moved in close and it was pretty likely that one of them was the culprit.  None of them really looked at her, so she continued to dance, waiting for the next encounter.

She didn't have to wait long, when she felt a hand on her ass again, but from a different direction.  She chuckled and remembered that this had been both exciting and scary for her when she was younger.  She decided to continue to just dance and see what developed.  The next song started, and its popularity caused the dance floor to get more packed with people.  Bodies were pushing together and inadvertent gropes were getting more common, but then she felt a hand again, clearly rubbing her ass on purpose.  She ground her ass against him, enjoying the touch and reveling in the fact that someone thought she was hot and available. 

She felt the hand slide from her ass to her hip, and his matching one grasped her other hip. Taking a quick look around to be sure Melissa and Susan couldn't see, Kristin let herself be pulled against him, feeling his growing hard on rubbing against her. She felt so slutty. She had never done anything like this before. Kristin ground her hips into the hard on, and then turned to catch a glimpse over her shoulder. The boy seemed barely old enough to be there, and when he caught her looking at him, he sheepishly tried to kiss her.  Kristin put a finger to her lips and warded him off, then ground her hips a little harder against him.  His cock was fully erect now, and she pushed her crack against it.  Grinding against him, she felt him start to dry hump her in rhythm to the music. She took a step forward and reached back, finding his bulge she gave it a little squeeze and felt rather than heard him moan. 

It made her feel powerful and aroused to tease this guy, and Kristin wondered if she could make him cum right there.  Her fingers stroked his cock as they danced, his hands still grasping her hips.  She could feel him pulsing and she switched from her hand to her ass again, grinding into him. A quick glance over her shoulder, showed that he was slightly red in the face with excitement, and his eyes were half closed. His hips began to dry hump her again and this time she just let him.  A moment later, she could tell he was cumming by the way his hips bucked uncontrollably against her.  She gave it a second more, then in his distraction, she turned to survey her handy work.  The boy now had a very sheepish look on his face and a growing wet spot on his crotch. She stepped back and looked into his face, he was cute, but young, and she winked at him and then tossed her head in a dismissive laugh. Embarrassment crossed his face, a little to Kristin's disappointment, and he hurriedly danced his way toward the men's room.

Kristin danced her way back toward her table, her body alive with the power she felt, and how men were attracted to her.  She wanted more though, and as she danced by the table with the first guys, she made sure she got close enough that they noticed her.  As she passed, she caught one of them pointing her out to the others and she slowed, rolling her hips as she walked to be sure they got the full effect.  While she didn't quite catch all they were saying, she did hear a few "damn fine ass, baby" comments as she walked by.  

Kristin returned to the table, and Susan and Melissa asked her how the dancing had been. Kristin laughed "I love the dancing, but the men with wandering hands mean you need to have eyes in the back of your head!"  Melissa laughed and Susan looked slightly shocked, "well that's why you shouldn't go out on the floor by yourself!" They chatted about wandering hands and rude men, but Kristin's mind and eyes kept turning back to the dance floor. When Melissa suggested that they join the throbbing crowds, Kristin was the first to stand up.  Susan said, "I'm sorry, I'll stay here and watch the table, I just don't feel like it tonight." 

The two ladies made their way to the dance floor, and Kristin got them dancing near the table with her target.  Melissa didn't seem to notice and it took a minute for the guys to catch on.  But then two of them stood and began to dance their way toward Kristin and Melissa. Kristin needed to lose Melissa or nothing was going to happen and so she slowly backed away until the crowd closed over them. The guys split up, one following Kristin, and one apparently heading for Melissa.  The one following Kristin was a little taller than her, and was probably the oldest of the group.  His jeans were tight enough to give some definition to the obvious bulge, and the biceps framed by the short sleeve cotton dress shirt hinted at a well chiseled torso. Kristin caught his eye and soon they were dancing. She carefully led him further from Melissa.  The crowd threatened to separate them and she danced closer, never quite touching him, but teasing him with her eyes.  She could feel his desire through his stare but she didn't let him quite get close enough.

They continued to dance as one song gave way to another.  She turned and let him see her ass gyrating to the music. When she turned back, Kristin's dance partner smiled and mouthed the word "nice," sending tingles through her body.  She turned, her back toward him again. In a moment she felt his hand on her ass.  His firm caress made her pussy throb and she could feel it getting damp.  His hands found her hips, and again she found herself grinding against a man.  This time she could feel his rough jeans against the skin of her thigh.  She pulled away again, and mentally willed his hand back down as she spread her legs, letting the skirt hike up even further.  Whether he could read her mind or her body language, she didn't care, but in a moment she could feel his fingers against the tender skin of her thigh, and they began to rise up under her skirt. 

Kristin quickly looked around, to be sure Melissa was lost in the crowd. And then his fingers found her bare pussy.  She thought she could tell he was surprised, and his pause seemed to confirm that. Arching her back a little more, she ground her hips against his fingers, and he obliged her by slipping two into her now wet pussy.  Kristin almost came right there, the loud music and lights adding to the amazing excitement of having a stranger fingering her on the dance floor.  Her body trembled with excitement at the violation, the desire she could spark in men, and his fingers, although not particularly deft, fucking her pussy.

Kristin came, not hard or in any amazing way, but she felt the warm release of a little orgasm. The awkward position and his fumbling fingers limited the power, but the mental game of getting fingered in public was enough to bring the blood rushing to her sex as she shuddered through the last measures of the song.  As the song ended, she pulled away from him a little and turned. His hand came up, and he was about ready to stick his fingers in her mouth. Kristin's look must have been withering because he looked like a boy caught in the candy jar. His hand dropped and she could see him kind of wiping her juices on his jeans.  Kristin reached for his other hand and then led him off the dance floor toward the hallway where the bathrooms were. 

While the hallway itself was already busy with a line for the ladies room and men pushing their way past to get to their door, she remembered that there was a corner behind the partition that was pretty dark. She led him to that corner and then turned, her hands grasping at his belt.  He looked around, nervous and grabbed her hands. Leaning forward, he said, "not here, too many people, let's go to the back alley."  Kristin wanted to slap him or cry; she didn't know which.  So she laughed and just walked away, leaving him shrugging and with a tale to tell.

Kristin made her way back to the table and found both Melissa and Susan there.  She plopped down in her chair and said "whew! I'm getting tired from all this dancing."  

The three yelled at each other over the music for a few more minutes and then Kristin announced, "I guess I'm getting too old to keep up, I think I'm going to head home." 

They hugged each other goodbye and promised that they'd do this again soon. Kristin wondered, perhaps, but only if I can figure out how to get more than fumble fingers on the dance floor.  She made her way to her car and silently drove home thinking about the excitement of getting fingered on the floor, but also how men seemed to disappoint her.



Permission Ch. 08



Kristin entered her dark house. Mark's car was in the garage, so she figured he was already in bed, and probably asleep. She sighed and wondered if she should stop off in the spare bedroom to masturbate, she could always relive her fuck with Richard. But she was tired, all that dancing was unusual, and so she walked down the hall to their bedroom, and carefully opened the door and entered.

As the man's hand closed around her mouth, and his arm wrapped her waist, Kristin's heartbeat went through the roof. Adrenalin poured into her system and she tried to scream and was ready to begin kicking when, through smell and feeling she realized it was Mark. Then his voiced hissed in her ear, "Did you have a good time teasing the boys tonight my little slut." The last word almost spit out. 

Kristin couldn't answer because of his hand, but panic began to well up. What had she done? Didn't she have permission? But alongside that panic was a warm tingling in her pussy. She loved the feeling of Marks thick arms wrapped around her. His strength pulling her against him was already beginning to turn her on, but she was confused and didn't know how to respond. She simply whimpered into her hand.

Then Mark's deep voice spoke again, "Well now it's my turn fuck you, my little slut. To make you cum, and take my pleasure from your body." Kristin nearly came when he said cum and she moaned her assent against his hand. 

Mark's hand dropped from her mouth and his arm braced across her chest pulling her against his shoulders. His other hand slid back across her abdomen, along her hip and down the outside of her thigh. Slipping up under the hem of her skirt, he pulled the fabric up, revealing her bare hip and ass, "Let's see what we have here."

Kristin let a low moan out and spread her legs further as Mark's hand roved across her ass. "Just as I thought, you're quite the slut, going out with no panties." His hand slid between her legs and he began to stroke her pussy lips which immediately flooded with her arousal. 

Kristin's eyes closed as Mark's fingers slipped up and down along her pussy lips. Her breath came in increasingly short gasps as his fingers, thick and rough, teased at her most sensitive spots. She moaned, both fearful of his response and unable to control her desire. "God yes" she finally whispered as first one, then two fingers penetrated deep into her tunnel. This was everything she wanted, and with Mark.

Mark continued to hold her roughly against him, fingering her in practiced measure, her climax building as he teased her clit and g-spot alternatively. And then Kristin exploded. Colors swarmed across the inside of her tightly clenched eyelids. Her hips bucked back against him urging his thick fingers deep into her. Her legs weakened letting his grasp support her. Kristin gasped and moaned, no words could capture this. 

As her body sank into his grasp and the throbbing sensation in her pussy gave way to a feeling of deep satisfaction, Mark's fingers slipped from her body. She felt him turn her slightly and then the zipper on her dress slid down. His strong arms returned her to her feet facing him. She could barely make out his features in the dark room, but his hand grasped the back of her head and his lips pressed against hers with a passion she couldn't ever recall. His tongue deep in her mouth, twirled and teased her. She moaned against him and then the kiss was gone.

His hands pushed the fabric of the dress down, until she stood, naked in front of him. She wished he could see her, that she could see his face, and enjoy the sensation of his desire. He stepped back a moment and she could barely make out his pajama bottoms being pushed to the floor and his t-shirt being tossed aside. And then, his hands were pushing her down to her knees and he commanded "take me in your mouth."

Although Kristin had, occasionally, blown him, Mark had never even asked, much less demanded it before. As she tentatively reached out to guide him to her mouth, his hand was again on the back of her head and his cock was in her mouth. It was thick and full and she struggled to get it lined up right as Mark began to fuck her mouth. It took her a moment to adjust, but as she did, she felt her excitement building again, as his pleasure was revealed by his low, deep moans. It was amazing to be wanted, desired, and fucked in her mouth. It didn't take Mark long, and she took some pleasure in the revelation that this excited him so, and she could feel the first spurts of cum filling his mouth. His low deep almost animalistic moan resonated through her body. Kristin swallowed furiously, her hands teasing his balls and grabbing his ass. As his orgasm subsided, his hand dropped from her head. She kept sucking for a moment, and then slowly let his semi-erect organ slip from her mouth.

"Good girl." He said and she felt a warmth pass over her than she had never imagined before. 

He took her hand and led her over to their bed, where he laid her on her back with her legs dangling over the edge. His hands grasped her knees and spread her legs. Mark bent and began to slowly lick at her already puffy and around lips. Each lick was different, some were slow and deep, others were fast and light flicks. He found her clit and began to suck and kiss it, his tongue swirling around it and making zig-zags across. And then he moaned. Low, deep, guttural: the vibrations coursed through her pubic mound more pleasurably than her vibrator. 

Kristin's back arched as her pussy throbbed with pleasure. She was going to cum again soon, she was sure. But she wanted penetration too. She grabbed her knees, her hands closing over his, to hold her legs up and apart. It was like he knew what she needed and his fingers traced down her thighs. Again, she felt his thick fingers pushing deep into her. And then one finger began to slide into her ass.

Kristin exploded with the dual penetration. Her hips bucked and she wrapped her legs around his neck and shoulders, pulling his face harder against her wanton pussy. Her fists clenched at the bed sheets. Her mind reeling with ecstasy she screamed "God yes, Mark, oh God yes." Her orgasm was so powerful it left her gasping for air in deep ragged breaths as her last convulsions coursed through her. 

Her muscles relaxed and her legs slid off Mark's shoulders and hung limply over the end of the bed. Mark stood and the cool air across her soaked pussy was relief. She could see Mark standing there, sensed that he was pondering something and then he spoke, "I need to fuck my little slut's ass now."

Kristin couldn't believe it. She still wasn't sure about anal, but her time with Richard was still fresh in her mind. She loved being told what he needed though. She loved being "my" little slut. She could sense the possession in his voice and felt it in her heart. She was his and he desired her. Slowly Kristin raised her legs and spread them, opening herself for whatever came next. 

She felt Mark's cock, thick and hard again, at the entrance to her ass. He went slow, spreading her sphincter with his swollen head. Kristin relaxed, letting him enter her, he was thicker but it went in easier. Her juices and her desire made it easy. Soon she felt Mark's hips pressing against her ass and she was full. He paused there, his hands grasping her hips. Then his fingers began to play with her pussy. At first, she was too numb to register much pleasure, but as Mark's cock began to slide in and out of her ass, her pussy came alive again. The sound of Mark's low moans, just starting as her tight ass gripped his cock with each stroke, began to arouse her again. Kristin reveled in the feeling of being taken so powerfully coupled with the new excitement at being called "my little slut." . 

Kristin's body took over and soon she was moaning and begging, "ooh god, yes, fuck your little slut's ass." She could feel her third orgasm beginning to well up in her pelvis. 

Mark gasped at her words and then he growled, "you're such a slut, you're going to cum while I'm fucking your ass."

Over Kristin's moan, Mark exploded. His hips bucked into her, and she felt his cock so deep. His low guttural growls following his words sent her over the edge again and she came for the third time. It wasn't as powerful as the first two, but she felt her ass contracting around his cock and her vagina around his fingers.

In a moment, Mark's thrusts slowed and his fingers slipped from her pussy. They were both panting from the exertion and excitement. As Mark's cock softened inside her, she wondered what to do next. She felt like she needed a break, but she didn't want it to be over yet: or ever. Mark slipped out of her and moved into their bathroom. Kristin lay there, uncertainty and worry beginning to grip her.

Mark came out of the bathroom a few minutes later, she was pretty sure he had washed up. He sat on the bed next to her, and said "here, you're probably thirsty." As he handed her a glass of water. His voice was calm, loving but not at all apologetic. Kristin took the cup and drank, the cool water was refreshing. Mark set the empty cup on the nightstand, and then pulled her into his arms on the bed. They lay, spooning, with Mark's arms around her for a while.

Kristin finally worked up the courage to speak, "God, that was..." she paused, "incredible hardly begins to cover it" she finished. And then she took a deep breath, "but, where did it come from?" 

The silence stretched out for a minute or more, when Mark finally said, "I've always loved and desired you but I think that I was afraid you wouldn't like how I really wanted to be with you. I needed to know, I guess, that you needed it. I needed to know that deep down, you really were a slut that I could take and have as I wanted. I guess I needed permission. I'm sorry I chickened out the other night, letting go of my control and seeing your shock scared me. I don't want to be like this every single time, but I love that you are" and the last words were growled out "my little slut."

Rolling over, Kristin began to kiss him. Tenderly, slowly, but her passion grew with each swirl of their tongues and each caress of hands groping in the dark. Kristin pushed him onto his back and reached down to find his cock hard and throbbing again "and sometimes your little slut is going to take what she wants."

Kristin threw her leg across him and sat up, sliding up until she was sitting on his chest. Mark's hands grasped at her hips, but Kristin wrapped her fingers around his wrists and pulled them off her body. She pushed his hands above his head pushing her breasts into his face. She moaned as Mark's tongue and lips began to tease at her nipples. "I'm going to use your body," she whisper to him. As Mark licked and sucked at her hard nipples, Kristin shifted her body, feeding him first one, then the other nipple. She could feel her nipples, so hard and sensitive. She had never cum from nipple play before, and although she didn't want to right now, she felt like her arousal at having Mark pinned like this could bring her to that state.

But Kristin had other ideas. With her breasts tingling from arousal and teasing, and her pussy feeling warm and ready, she slid up Mark's chest. Reposition herself so that she straddled Mark's face, her knees locking his upper arms and her hands still pushing his wrists into the mattress, Kristin presented her sex to his mouth. She sighed with pleasure as his tongue began to dart along her lips. She controlled how much he could penetrate, pushing her pussy onto his face so that his tongue went deep into her folds and then withdrawing until he could barely lick the outer edges. She could hear Mark's breathing coming in gasps as her body pressed over his mouth and face. It excited her to have such control over him. She felt her orgasm building as Mark's mouth greedily sucked and licked at her pussy. As she her climax built, she pushed down on his face, willing him deeper into her. She felt his tongue inside her tunnel and she ground her clit against his lips. 

Nearly at orgasm, Kristin slid back down onto Mark's chest. "Oh God," she gasped, "I love your mouth. But now I need to feel you deep inside me." Kristin slid down his body and positioned herself over his now erect cock. She loved that sitting on his face had aroused him so. In one swift motion she took him deep into her and then sat, just for a moment, feeling him filling her. Slowly, she began to grind and roll her hips, manipulating his cock so that it pressed into her g-spot with each thrust. Mark's hands came down to grab her hips. But Kristin took them and positioned his arms as posts, so that she could use them to lean against while she ground on him. 

Her body began to take over, her speed and intensity increasing until she was fucking him fast and hard. She collapsed onto his chest, her hips bucking as her orgasm gripped her with powerful spasms. She found herself biting his shoulder from the intensity of having him, fucking him, using his body. She had no idea when he came in her, but as her climax began to wind down, she could feel the warm sloppiness of their mixed cum lubricating the final strokes of her pussy on his now softening cock.

As they lay there panting, Mark chuckled, "I guess as my little slut, you are entitled to be a little wanton and take what you want." They both laughed. 

Kristin glanced over at the clock and it was nearly one AM. "Oh, God, Mark, I'm sorry. It's really late, you must be exhausted and I know you have to get up tomorrow." 

Mark rolled her off of him and growled as he began to kiss her and then in her ear he whispered, "no, I'm taking the day off tomorrow, I'm going to spend it fucking my little slut."