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Diana's Self-Liberation Ch. 01

By: nortythorts



Another slow build-up in readiness for the next chapter

Thanks for the positive feedback, especially the e-mails.

ALL CHARACTERS ARE ENTIRELY FICTIONAL

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Diana slept fitfully. She thought she had made up her mind but as the hours dragged by doubt and fear haunted her. But her excitement also grew. She had considered her plans for some time and made them as watertight as she could. The one unknown, the one weakness was out of her control. It was the reaction of her target, the twenty-year-old from across the road.

Her husband Keith had lost interest in her sexually and it had become evident that he cheated on her often. The one consolation was that no woman proved willing or able to retain his interest for long. He had no affairs as such, just a series of flings, usually with women ten years or more his junior. This was a consolation of sorts. It made her feel less inadequate.

After her initial shock, outrage and sense of betrayal Diana had begun to take stock. They discussed divorce but in the end she decided against it. Keith held a well-paid job, and she enjoyed many of the benefits – a house that was spacious and tastefully appointed in a good neighbourhood. She had a new car every two years, and a generous spending allowance. Although she herself also worked, to live off her salary alone – even with a decent divorce settlement – would mean a big drop in living standards.

She decided that on balance her lot could be a lot worse. In some ways she and Keith were still quite fond of each other. And for his part he had promised not to flaunt his cheating, and to restrict his spending on his – "companions". It suited him to remain married. It looked good at the company, and it was an asset to have a wife who could host occasional dinner parties. So a kind of agreement had been reached. On one thing she had been adamant. She would never have sex with him again. He could even continue to share her bed if he chose, but their relationship from now on would be celibate. It had already been so for some time anyway, but she wanted to make it clear that it would now stay that way.

Unconsciously a first she had begun to restore her shattered self-esteem. She became more aware of how she dressed, and whilst she still dressed conservatively she began to dress more smartly, and a bit more expensively than before. She knew that she was no match for the younger floozy that her husband was now enjoying.

At first she did it at first to feel feminine, to restore her self-esteem. But she noticed that from time to time at work and even around town a few heads did begin to turn, a few glances were cast her way. To her surprise her libido, which had lain dormant for longer than she cared to admit, was now beginning to stir. And with some delight she noticed that one or two blokes rested their gaze on her legs and breasts. Thomas, the twenty-year old lad across the road, was one of them. Given that she was now forty-three that was very heartening.

She went to a beautician and took her advice on how to use make-up to make the most of her appearance. Despite advice to the contrary she still kept her hair in a bit of a retro style, brushed up and back on her head. 

She had no desire for an affair, feeling unable to trust a man enough for an emotional attachment at the moment. Besides, she felt that she would not know where to start. Certainly not the workplace, where it would soon be the main topic of gossip. Not a dating agency or an ad in the newspaper or on the internet. In any case she was not looking for romance, and the kind of man who would be interested in a "no strings fun" advert was not a welcoming prospect. 

She had wondered whether she was hoping for the impossible: no romantic ties but a strong sense of her femininity, to be told that she was attractive, to be held and kissed. To have sex, yes, but to have it with someone whose discretion could be relied upon, and with someone who would at least treat her with some respect.

At first she had almost laughed out loud when the thought of Thomas came to mind. At twenty years old he was just less than half her own age. He was average looking and although tall he was far from athletic in build. In addition he was pretty quiet and shy. As far as she knew he had never yet even had a girlfriend.

On the other hand... he was pleasant enough, polite, and came from a decent family. She was on speaking terms rather than close terms with his parents, and a year ago when Thomas began work at an accountancy firm on the same side of town where she worked she had offered to give him a lift. She dropped him off close to his workplace; she virtually drove past it on her way to work. 

She had got to know him a bit, and although she did not positively fancy him, nothing about him put her off him, either. Maybe, she told herself, maybe Thomas was not such an illogical choice after all.

There were other advantages. Given their age difference, and the fact that outwardly she seemed happily married, it would never occur to anyone that she might be having sex with him. His nondescript build and appearance, his shyness, and the fact that she already gave him a lift to work would also prevent suspicion. His not being the obvious candidate for sordid "encounters" – she could not bear to use any other term in her mind – was a definite bonus.

As she toyed with the idea, another advantage suggested itself. He tended to be disorganised. Although she set off for work at more or less the same time each day, the time of his arrival for his lift with her varied. Some days he ended up trotting across the road as she was reversing the car down the drive. Some days he knocked on the door just as she was about to leave the house. But other days he arrived with five minutes or so before they were due to depart.

Thus the wheels of The Plan had begun to stir into motion. The skulduggery, the thinking around possible pitfalls and the need to cover all eventualities engrossed her. They also fuelled her excitement and helped to rebuild her self-esteem. She was now no longer a victim of her husband's philandering; she was taking control – and how!

Of course, there was some risk that Thomas might prove indiscreet about their seedy encounters, but she thought it unlikely. Firstly there was his shyness. Secondly, whom would he tell, and what would he gain from it? His parents would be shocked and outraged, any friends or colleagues of his would feel the same, or they would consider or even call him a loser for being unable to find someone his own age. And if such factors would make him want to keep his mouth shut about her, they would probably also ensure that he trod carefully and helped her to cover their tracks. 

At first, the idea of quickie sex in her own home – and for that matter, and despite his own cheating, her husband's house, too – seemed nasty and uninviting. But as she thought about it, the prospect was not entirely without appeal. If executed carefully, at varying frequencies and on different days of the week, it could actually prove more discreet than visiting a hotel or suchlike.

Its very tawdriness also lent an air of excitement – no more than ten minutes' sexual activity with a lad half her age in her own house immediately before leaving the house with him for work. To do so in a way that would avoid arousing the suspicions of her husband or her neighbours (including Thomas' parents) would be an added thrill. To drive him to his place of work with both of them still enjoying their post-orgasmic inner glow had a seedy feel. For each of them to arrive at their workplaces with this glow and greet colleagues mater-of-factly without them guessing or imagining what they had just been up to... the idea made her head spin and her stomach flutter.

Quickie sex could prove to be varied and maintain his interest, too. And then... her mind worked through a number of possibilities...

Yes, provided that the frequency was not too great, they could go to a hotel or a motel after work. Not too often – for financial reasons as well as for the sake of discretion. But it could be done, say, every ten days or so. They could go somewhere out of town. They could even arrive separately and make their own separate ways home. She worked flexible hours anyway and arrived home any time between four thirty and six thirty. It would have to be carefully arranged, and likely venues checked in advance, but it could be done. They could spend an hour or so together for more relaxed, intimate liaisons. Frantic, passionate quickie sex intermingled with slow sensual sex – it all became more and more enticing.



This morning – it was THE morning when all her planning would be put to the test – she was awake long before the alarm clock sounded. She showered, enjoying the sensuality of the water jetting against her. She made small talk to Keith at breakfast over the background noise of the radio, but she found her eyes drawn repeatedly to the clock. She felt excited and nervous, like a teenager due approaching her first date.

Just after seven thirty Keith gave her a peck on the cheek, stepped out of the house and drove off to work. He had a drive of fifty miles or so to his office and needed to leave early. Even as he was backing the car out of the drive she was dressing into a matching designer bra, panty and suspender set. The panties were brief enough to be sexy without being too tarty. Their outline would show through her skirt and some of her male colleagues would admire their relative scantiness.

She put on her new white cotton blouse with metallic vertical stripes, and eased a pair of sheer black stockings up her legs and fastened them to the suspenders. She stepped into her navy blue waist slip and slid it up, taking care to ensure that the slit in it would line up with the modest slit in the back of her skirt. She similarly stepped into her royal-blue skirt, tugged it up and fastened it. It reached her knees and fitted loosely, but The Plan was for her to change it before work anyway. 

She opened the bedroom curtains and brushed her hair. It was now almost seven-fifty. She saw Thomas's father leave his house, get into the car, and set off to work. Her heart was beating more quickly and her stomach fluttered with nervous excitement. She tried to remain calm, concentrating on getting her things read for work. Today of all days she must be well organised and focussed.

Eight-o-six, and she saw Thomas's mother leave the house. In about twenty minutes Thomas would be knocking on her back door. At the moment he was totally unaware what lay in store. This realisation gave her a feeling of control and a twinge of arousal.

She tried to fix her mind on the tasks that lay ahead of her at work, tried to call to mind the items on her shopping list, tried not to look at the clock too often. She knew that he would arrive very soon now. She went to the toilet.

She returned to the lounge so that she could see his approach. She heard his front door close behind him and saw him walk across the street. She gave several deep breaths to steady her nerve. She moved away from the window. A few moments later there was a knock at the door, he called out timidly and stepped inside. He had been reluctant to do this for some time but she had insisted that there was no need to wait for her to open the door.

She had to make a conscious effort to walk slowly to the kitchen, and smiled as naturally as she could.

"Hi, Thomas."

She made herself speak slowly and softly and hoped that her feelings would not be evident.

"Hi Mrs Barrett."

"Go on into the lounge – I'll only be a few minutes. I'll just finish washing these dishes, Thomas, then we'll set off."

She had strategically left the dining room door open. Just inside the doorway, where he would see it as he passed, stood the clothes maiden on which she had draped some of her clothes. On the side facing the door were her plum satin blouse and black skirt that fell just short of her knees and that hugged her hips and bum, and against which the outline of her panties would show. There were a couple of sets of matching designer bra and panties on the clothes maiden. 

With a glow of satisfaction she saw him glance at them as he went to the lounge.

She remained in the kitchen. She had left a few dishes in the sink. She paused, breathing deeply a few times to steady her nerves, then made a point of swishing and rattling the dishes in the sink loudly enough for him to hear.

Then she launched the next stage of The Plan. She splashed some water onto her blouse and the front of her skirt and tossed a mug onto the floor so that it smashed.

"Oh damn!" 

On cue Thomas appeared in the kitchen doorway.

"What's wrong, Mrs Barrett?"

She turned to face him, working hard to keep an innocent expression on her face. She saw his eyes rest on the wet patches over her right breast and crotch.

"More haste, less speed I'm afraid, Thomas. Could you do me a favour and sweep up those bits? There's a brush and a dustpan in the cupboard under the sink, and some newspaper behind the waste bin. I'll have to sort myself out..."

"Sure."

As he bent down to sweep up the pieces of broken mug she stayed where she was, her legs and skirt hem close to his bent form. She took a hand towel and rubbed the wet patch over her breast. She glimpsed his furtive glances at the quivering of her flesh under her blouse. She rubbed more vigorously at the dampness on her skirt too. Although it looked innocent she knew that he would find the sight of her rubbing right against her crotch very provocative.

"Oh it's no good! And that water is a bit greasy. I'd better change so that my clothes don't mark. Are we okay for time?"

"Yeah, it's only just half past, Mrs Barrett."

"Can you do me another favour, Thomas? Can you get the bucket out from where you got the brush and pan and put some cold water in it – about a third full? I think I'd better put my clothes to soak when I've changed."

"Yes, okay."

She had to try hard not to smile as he turned round form the sink with the bucket of water. 

She stood in the open doorway of the dining room with her back to the hall and kitchen but in view of him. She unbuttoned her blouse and slid it off her arms. She noticed with satisfaction his gaze on her pale back, the straps of her bra, and on her shoulders.

She turned sideways and saw his eyes rest on her modest, B-cup breasts, modestly covered by her floral print satin bra. She gave him a slightly embarrassed look.

"Sorry, Thomas, but we're running late. Could you put this in the bucket of water?"

He had blushed. He stepped to her and blushed deeper as her took the blouse from her, warm from its contact with her skin, then turned to the kitchen. She glanced him stroking it furtively.

"Oh, and Thomas?"

"Yes, Mrs Barrett?"

He turned round to face her, the blouse still in his hand.

"I'll have to change out of this skirt, too..."

His blush deepened.

"Don't worry – I'm wearing an underskirt – you won't see me in my knickers!"

She laughed and tried to sound natural.

She glanced over her shoulder as she put her hands behind her back to unzip her skirt. She leaned forwards, ostensibly to tug her skirt down, but her real purpose was to allow the tops of her breasts to rise over her the cups of her pretty, floral bra.

She glimpsed his eyes on her legs and on her navy-blue waist slip with its lace trim up each side of its rear split. She stepped out of it and picked up the shorter black skirt from the clothes maiden. She glanced at it, then at her waist slip, then thoughtfully back again. It was all another detail in The Plan, of course. She saw his eyes following hers, and spotted the bulge in his trousers.

"Oh, shit! Pardon my French..." she cried out. "This slip is too long for this skirt!"

She saw the shock on his face as slowly (but as unselfconsciously as she could) she pulled down the slip to reveal her suspender belt, then her floral print panties, and her suspenders and stockingtops. She noticed that chivalrously he averted his eyes – but only after briefly taking in the view.

She stepped out of the slip and into the black skirt. She pulled it up her legs. Then she took he plum-coloured satin blouse from the clothes maiden, slid it onto her arms, buttoned it up and tucked it into her skirt.

She bent down to pick up her blue skirt that she had just removed, and passed it to him.

"If you could just put that to soak... oh, Thomas, I do hope I didn't embarrass you too much! It's just that we're running a bit late... I'm sorry... anyway, we can go now." She gave a nervous giggle.

He turned and walked over to the bucket of water again. He dropped the skirt in and turned to face her again, feeling flushed and embarrassed. He pushed one hand into his trouser pocket and tried to press his erection flat, hoping that she would not notice.

She was fumbling with the zip on her skirt.

"I'm terribly sorry about this, Thomas... My skirt's a bit tight and I don't have time to go upstairs and get another one. If I hold it closed could you zip it up for me?"

"I... I don't know if... if I should, Mrs Barrett."

"Why ever not? I won't bite, you know. And I'm a married woman, Thomas! It's only so we can set off – we're a few minutes late already."

Her apparent innocence seemed to assure him that she had no ulterior motive, but it did not alleviate his embarrassment – or his erection – much. But, despite his nervousness, and his guilt at feeling that he had misconstrued her actions as making a move on him, he stepped closer. He took the zip in his hand and eased it up.

He was painfully conscious of her nearness, and gazed at her sexy lacy panties inside her skirt. His hand was less than an inch from touching her bum cheeks. He wondered if she had any idea how often he masturbated as he thought of her.

He eased the zip up. Never had the sound of a zip closing sounded so erotic to him.

She turned round to face him and smiled. She put her hands behind her back and fastened the button at the back of her skirt.

"Thanks Thomas. Now let's go..."

He watched her pick up her discarded navy blue slip from the floor and drape it over the clothes maiden. She stepped to the back door and he followed her, pulling his jacket across him in the hope that it would hide the bulge in his trousers.

She felt almost light-headed. Her plan could not have worked out better. She locked the door of the house and got into the car first, then he got in. She saw him glance at her thighs. Her skirt was not very short, but it had ridden up a little as she got in. Her stockingtops were hidden from view, but it hardly mattered now. Th fact was that he now knew that she was wearing stockings rather than tights, and had in fact seen them just a few minutes earlier. She smiled at him and glanced down, checking whether he still had a hard-on, and thrilling in the evidence that he had indeed.

For all her meticulous planning she had been undecided about the next stage. Originally she had planned to explain her proposal to him on their way to work or as she pulled up outside his workplace.

Then she had remembered one of those silly sayings of her mother's. "Softly, softly catchy monkey." How on earth such a ridiculous saying had ever originated was beyond her, but its meaning was clear. She remembered once spending an afternoon with her father watching him fly-fishing for trout. The finer points had been lost on her but he had tried to explain that a trout has to be carefully lured. The fake fly – disguising the hook that would catch the prey – must be meticulously fashioned to appeal to the trout so that, taking it, it was caught. Then the fun began. The fish had to be played gently, allowed to swim away then coaxed little by little until at last – with skill and patience – the prize was landed!


Diana's Self-Liberation Ch. 01



She reckoned that Thomas had seen enough to get him going. To delay soliciting him for another day or two would do no harm. It would probably be advantageous in fact, as he would have ample time to brood on what he had seen, and to dream of the prospect – apparently unattainable – that had almost been his. She would let him brood a little longer before trying to land him. Besides, she thought, the additional delay would feed her own excitement too.

So on the way to work she made small talk to him. To her satisfaction she noticed that he seemed a little less talkative even than usual. She made sure that her skirt remained reasonably high up her legs to keep him aware of them, and noticed him glancing at them briefly but repeatedly.

At last she stopped the car outside the office where he worked. He opened the door and swung his legs out.

"Bye, Mrs Barrett. Thanks."

"Bye Thomas. Didn't mean to embarrass you earlier. Anyway, see you tomorrow."

She pulled away, with her stomach fluttering and her heart beating fast.



Diana's Self-Liberation Ch. 02



All characters are fictional and it isn't autobiographical!

The reference to the lad being a nerd is intended to be his own, and other people's perception so please don't think there is any attempt to stereotype! 

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Thomas struggled all day to concentrate on his work. A couple of times colleagues had to nudge him or repeat themselves and raise their voices to attract his attention. One even asked if he was feeling okay; he replied that he was, and that he simply felt a bit tired. To his annoyance he found a couple of mistakes he had made, too, and had to correct them. 

At his lunchtime he grabbed his jacket and sandwiches, and headed for the park nearby, glad to be able to clear his head.

Mrs Barrett. He found it almost impossible not to leer at her (though discreetly), and most mornings before going to her house for his lift to work he masturbated to the thought of her. Both acts made him feel guilty and ashamed. She was genuine, friendly and kind (she had offered to give him a lift to work without even being asked), and had a good sense of humour. And either she was unaware of his furtive leers or else she chose to ignore them. 

Being in the car with her was both a delight and a torment. There was something inherently intimate about being alone with her, his hands just inches from her partly bared slender thigh. In his workplace there were girls and women who were younger and more attractive than she was. Not that Mrs Barrett was ugly or even plain, though. She was always smartly but not provocatively dressed. Maybe her age and married status appealed to him directly. Or maybe her easy-going manner and the fact that she was clearly unattainable simply made him feel more relaxed with her than with girls his own age. 

Although he was twenty years old, Thomas had little experience with girls. He had attended an all-boys' school, and although he had mates, his shy disposition never really allowed him to be comfortable with laddish socialising and excessive drinking. He had had a girlfriend, Dawn, for a couple of months, but she had finished with him some time ago. And, though he never admitted it to his friends, he was still a virgin. Dawn had allowed him to play with her breasts but never "below the waist."

After considerable agonising he had once plucked up the courage to ask out Amy the receptionist from his workplace. Not only had she given an outright "no", she had also wrinkled up her nose as if the very idea repulsed her. It didn't help his confidence. And maybe it contributed to his lust for his forty-three year-old neighbour, Mrs Barrett.

Thomas knew that some people thought he was a bit of a nerd, but most people respected his ability to analyse situations. Yet the more he analysed Mrs Barrett's behaviour that morning the more puzzled he became.

As he ate his sandwiches he re-lived the shock of that morning when she had splashed washing-up water down herself and changed her clothes right in front of him. He had seen her down to her underwear. She had even asked him to zip up her skirt! He racked his brain for a likely explanation. He could only think of three. Firstly, perhaps she was deliberately embarrassing him to pay him back for leering at her. But then, if she was uncomfortable with the way he looked at her, surely she would say something direct or make excuses not to give him a lift any more. And if she felt awkward when he was around she would hardly half-strip and ask him to zip up her skirt!

Secondly, he thought, she might have acted in all innocence, and he was reading his own wishful thinking into her behaviour. But a forty-three year old married woman would hardly think it normal and harmless to change down to her underwear in front of a young lad from across the road. The only thing that made any slight sense of this explanation was that she had apologised if she had embarrassed him.

The only other possibility seemed too ludicrous to consider. Might she, he wondered, have teased him in order to tempt him, to give him the come-on? But what was the likelihood of a woman married to a successful businessman seducing him, a non-athletic and slightly nerdy twenty-year old and shy lad who lived opposite her? Besides this, she had acted in the car immediately afterwards as if nothing at all had happened. The conversation had been even more one-sided than usual due to his embarrassment, confusion and excitement, and had been entirely trivial. He dismissed this possibility. It left no other one in his mind.

He glanced around the park to avoid looking too intense. He realised that his feelings for her had reached a new peak. He had now seen this neighbour whom he fantasised about in her bra and panties, her stockings and suspenders. What was more, she had even handed him her cotton blouse and asked him to put it in a bucket of water to soak! He had held it in his hands. The fabric had been soft -- AND WARM in his hands -- from its contact with the skin of this mature, married woman who made him as horny as could be. Then, to cap it all, she had asked him to zip up her skirt. He had done so, his fingertips a fraction of an inch from her bum cheeks...

The stockings and suspenders were the other real mystery. He wondered if they were a treat for Mr Barrett when he arrived home. But why wear stockings for work if they were to benefit her husband? As she always arrived home from work long before her husband, why not just change when she got home? Could it be that this demure neighbour had a secret lover, maybe in the office where she worked? Still baffled, Thomas headed back to work, determined to concentrate harder on his job that afternoon. 

For the next few mornings he deliberately arrived just as she was reversing the car out of the drive, to avoid having to go into the house. Their conversations in the car remained as stilted as ever; she did most of the talking, just idle chit-chat. It was as if he had imagined the whole thing, with just two slight differences. He struggled even more to avoid looking at her thigh and at her breasts as she drove the car. And he wondered whether she was wearing stockings again and, if so, for whose benefit.

There was one further difference, too. He masturbated to the thought of her each evening in the bathroom as soon as he got home form work, and then later when he went to bed, as well as each morning. In his mind's eye he slid his hand inside her open skirt zip instead of fastening it, and stroked her bum cleft through the warm nylon of that navy blue underskirt. In his imagination she giggled, slapped his hand gently and playfully, and told him he was a naughty boy. But then in his mind she turned to him, and took him by the hand to lead him to her bed. The sheets were still warm from where she and her husband had screwed, then slept, the previous night, then screwed again that morning before leaving for work. Then, as he closed his eyes and jerked off, he imagined her stripping naked and begging him, Thomas to fuck her...

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Diana also struggled throughout that day and the next few. She was torn between patiently allowing her partial strip to do its work in his head, and making a more positive move sooner. His arrival just in time for his lift the next few days made her wonder whether she had scared him off. But on the fourth day -- the Friday -- he arrived about five minutes before they needed to go. She had already rehearsed her plan.

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He knocked on the door as usual, and stepped into the kitchen where she was waiting. A thrill went down his spine as he saw that she was wearing the very white, striped blouse that he had handled a few days previously. Under it her modest breasts looked shapely. He glanced immediately away, but he suddenly felt hot. He could not be sure, but she did not seem to be wearing a bra.

To make matters worse, she was wearing the same blue skirt that she had splashed (apparently accidentally), and that he had handled before placing it to soak in the bucket of water with her blouse. And she was wearing sheer black tights -- or maybe even those stockings -- again.

"Hi Thomas."

"Hi Mrs Barrett."

He tried to force a smile.

She picked up her handbag and checked its contents. His gaze automatically drifted to her breasts and he knew that she was DEFINITELY not wearing a bra. Her average sized breasts swung down as she bent forward, and they quivered arousingly as she straightened.

"You'll be glad to know that I've done the washing-up already, Thomas -- and not splashed myself today!" She laughed. He thought it was a bit forced. He felt himself blush, wondering why she was saying this when so far she had made no further mention of it.

"Oh, yes, right, Mrs Barrett," he said, unsure what to say.

She stepped closer to him and smiled again. Between the buttons of her blouse he could see -- a few inches away -- the pale, bare skin of her breasts.

"I AM sorry if I embarrassed you on Monday morning, Thomas..."

"That... that's alright, Mrs Barrett... you didn't embarrass me. I didn't mind... I... mean..."

He inwardly cursed his clumsiness. The more he said, the worse it sounded. He might almost as well have told her that, yes, he had enjoyed what she had shown and had imagined what she had kept covered, and had masturbated at the thought of her three times a day since it happened!

She laughed.

"Better stop there, Thomas. You nearly said that you liked what you saw! Well, as I say, I didn't mean to embarrass you. But... oh, sorry Thomas if this embarrasses you more, but..."

The room felt suddenly hot, but he knew it was him.

"The thing is Thomas -- I had no wish to EMBARRASS you -- but I DID wish to EXCITE you..."

He looked at her in shock and disbelief.

"Did... did it work, Thomas? Did you like what you saw?"

"I... er..." His mind was in turmoil. He had no idea what to say.

To his surprise she reached out for his hand and brought it almost to her breast.

"I was half-hoping on Monday that instead of ME dabbing my blouse dry, you would do it FOR me, Thomas... like this..."

He stared at her hand as it pressed his against her breast four times. Through her warm blouse her bra-less breasts gave way deliciously. He made himself pull his hand away.

".... and I hoped, Thomas, that when I asked you to zip up my skirt, you would slip your hand INSIDE it instead and touch me up!"

She turned suddenly round, and to his surprise the zip of her skirt was open. She grabbed his hand and pulled it inside. His fingers met the warm, silky nylon of her underskirt and the firm rounded bum cheeks under it.

"Like that, Thomas!"

She turned round to face him and his hand fell away from her bum. She unfastened the top few buttons of her blouse. She pulled it swiftly open and he stared as her naked breasts were unveiled.

"Yes, love, I planned it all weeks ago-- I just had to pluck up my courage and wait until the time seemed right."

Her breasts were not particularly big and they sagged slightly, though if he had been more experienced he would have been surprised at their firmness for her age. Her nipples were flat but big, the areolae (though he was ignorant of the term!) were larger and darker than he had imagined. Their prominence gave them a cheeky, inviting appearance.

She stroked her breasts with her fingers. It looked very rude and arousing.

"I was hoping to be able to show you these... and ask you to touch and kiss them -- maybe even SUCK them, Thomas, love. Would you like to?"

He knew it was wrong, but as she cupped his hand over her left orb he actively kneaded it, thrilling in the feel of it.

She guided his head down to it.

"Ohhh Mrs Barrett... we shouldn't..."

"It's been a long time since they were caressed and kissed, Thomas... kiss them and suck them for Diana, love... mmmnnhhh, Thomas, that's nice..."

His breathing was uneven as he nuzzled and sucked on her semi-firm flesh. He tugged the nipple with his lips and felt it begin to swell and rise. His hand reached down and found the open zip of her skirt again and eased his hand inside, thinking of Dawn, his former and only girlfriend. She had always pushed his hands away when he had wanted to explore even just her thighs or to stroke her bum THROUGH her skirt. He cupped Mrs Barrett's bum cheek INSIDE her skirt and squeezed it gently through the nylon of her underskirt. He rubbed the side of his finger into the cleft of her bum. She whimpered.

After a few minutes she lifted his face and kissed him on the mouth.

"We'll have to go soon, love, but listen. My... my husband doesn't pay me much attention any more. He prefers other women, and..."

"He must be mad, Mrs Barrett!" he blurted out. His boldness surprised him as much as it did her.

"Thomas, I have needs. I don't want a love affair or complicated relationship. But... I was wondering whether... whether you would be kind enough to make a lonely old lady happy?"

She had rehearsed her words carefully in advance, having decided on the tack of him doing her a favour rather than a more brash approach. "Play the trout gently, if you want to land him!" she had reminded herself. She cupped his hand in hers and pressed it over her breasts again, nudging it in little circles, then guided his fingers to her hardening nipple.

"You're not old, Mrs Barrett..."

"Thanks, Thomas. I'm not asking you to declare your undying love for me, or anything silly like that. I'm not asking you to commit yourself to me and be at my beck and call. Nor am I offering to be at yours. I'm just asking if... if a couple of times a week you fancy... we maybe shouldn't call it making love, so excuse my French -- SHAGGING -- this lonely old neighbour of yours to cheer her up."

Her unexpected boldness and unprecedented crudity shocked him. The out-of-date term "shagging" excited him. It seemed quaint, almost innocent and naive -- in complete contrast to the way she was acting!

"I... I don't know what to say, Mrs Barrett... I..."

"Then why not say YES, Thomas?"

He was too shocked to speak. He nodded his head, feeling stupid.

"Have... have you ever gone all the way, Thomas?"

He looked down at the floor, feeling too embarrassed to look her in the eye. He shook his head almost imperceptibly. The knowledge that she was seducing a virgin sent a thrill of excitement through Diana.

"There's no shame in that, Thomas. You're shy, that's all. And that can be hard for a young man to overcome... but I could help your confidence if you like, love."

She put a finger under his chin and raised his face to hers. She was smiling reassuringly at him, her slightly lined face tender and maternal. He no longer felt a loser.

"Would you LIKE to go all the way, Thomas? Would you like to do it with your frustrated neighbour who's a lot older than you are but VERY experienced? I could help YOU overcome your shyness, Thomas. And YOU could help with MY loneliness. Hmmm?"

He nodded, sensing the catch in her voice. Her husband must be a moron, he thought, to neglect her.

"Listen, love. We have to be very careful, very discreet. Some mornings we could have a quickie here before work. That would be fun, it would be very naughty. We'd arrive at work with a warm glow and a smile on our faces. But our first time should be slow and relaxed and special -- for both of us. And it should be like that some other occasions, too..."

He gazed at his hand, still inside hers, and at the rippling flesh of her bared breasts as she guided him over their contours. He looked into her smiling face again.

"Tuesday night. I could meet you after work, or if you prefer you could make your own way there. It would definitely be best if we returned separately. The Travel Lodge -- by the motorway junction. You know it?"

"Yes. Yes I know it, Mrs Barrett."

"Good. We'll confirm the arrangements on Tuesday morning. Now why don't you fasten my blouse for me and zip up my skirt?"

His hands were trembling as they had a few days earlier, but this time with pure, suppressed excitement, as he buttoned her blouse, watching her breasts disappear from view, and zipped up her skirt. She laughed.

"Don't worry. I've got my bra in my bag. I'll go to the toilet as soon as I get to work and put it on.

He followed her to the door and to the car. This time he gazed more openly at her breasts through her blouse and at her bared slender lower thighs below her skirt hem as they journeyed. His mind was in a spin, unable to comprehend what was unfolding. Surreally she again spoke trivia as if nothing had happened, until they were just a few minutes away from the office where he worked.

She put her hand briefly on his knee and squeezed it.

"Don't forget, Thomas. We must be discreet. No diary. No letters, gifts or cards --in any case this isn't an affair as such. I'll see you on Monday anyway and we can fix up the arrangements on Tuesday."

He got out of the car and waved goodbye, desperately hoping that his erection would subside quickly and that he would be able to remain focussed at work.

_______________

It was now Tuesday, and the hour was approaching when her plans and her patient seduction would be fulfilled. She sat in the motel room feeling excited and nervous as she awaited his phone call. She had brought a small portable radio to mask their conversation from neighbouring rooms. She placed it well away from the bed and the dressing table and turned it on. She took a pack of condoms, and opened the wrapper from one. She tried not to look at her watch.

Although she was expecting it she still jumped when her mobile rang. It was a scratched and slightly battered second-hand one that she had bought especially, along with a new pay-as-you-go SIM card. She had written the word "WORK" on the back in felt pen. She had even made a number of calls on it to wrong numbers so that Thomas's would not be the only number in her sent calls, just in case her husband or anyone else found it. She prided herself -- and got a buzz from -- all her meticulous planning.

She reached nervously into her bag for the other item that she had found and had half-concealed. It was an old, pocket sized cassette tape recorder. She had bought it several years earlier to learn lines for an amateur dramatic production. The previous week she had downloaded a free computer program and connection leads that could convert sound from an external source to a digital format and that allowed it to be edited, too.

She hesitated. It was very seedy, and a betrayal of Thomas' trust. But, she told herself, this was HER party. She had planned it all. Besides, all she wanted was some lasting evidence of a man telling her she was sexy, desirable. The seconds were ticking by. Thomas would be feeling nervous and conspicuous, and might even lose his nerve and leave if she did not meet him quickly. She pressed the record button, covered all except the built-in microphone with the contents of her bag, and placed her bag on the dressing table.

She met him in the reception area, and made a point of formally shaking his hand, as arranged, as if they hardly knew each other.

"Yes, the meeting's at seven and we can eat in a while. Can I just show you the agenda though -- David?"

"Yes, fine, M.. Diana..." He only just remembered to use her first name.

She had booked a single rather than a double for the sake of discretion. The radio was already on quietly in the background. She removed her jacket, sat on the bed and gestured for him to sit beside her. She was bra-less under her blouse once more. She crossed her leg higher, and he stared as her skirt rode up high enough to show the lacy top of one shiny black stocking. 

She smiled reassuringly as he sat beside her.

"I've been looking forward all day to this, Thomas."

"Me too, Mrs Barrett."




Diana's Self-Liberation Ch. 02



"I think, Thomas, you should call me Diana if we're going to... shag."

"Okay, Mrs... Diana. It's just..."

"What, love?"

"May... may I still call you Mrs Barrett. Would you mind?"

"Of course not, Thomas. Now let's take our time and enjoy ourselves..."

A shudder ran through her as she realised that for him as much as for her the fact of her being married and older was part of the thrill.

She drew his face to hers and they kissed, tentatively at first, then more purposefully. She was pleasantly surprised at his ability. They smooched and snogged, moulding their lips against each other's. She parted her lips and teased his lips with her tongue. He reciprocated. Their tongues met, and pushed and danced against each other. It was years since she had been kissed as eagerly yet tenderly as this, or for as long. She found herself sighing and murmuring with delight, and, encouraged by her response, he added his own lower grunts and sighs. She hoped the tape would pick them up.

He ran his hand lightly up and down her shallow cleavage, then up and over the top of each breast, savouring the warmth and softness of her blouse and the feel of her flesh beneath. He cupped his hands under both breasts and scooped them up and down, enjoying the sensation. 

He moved his hands in spiralling movements over them, closing in towards her nipples, then moving away again. He caressed her back, then returned his hands to her breasts.

"Mmmm, Thomas, you have a nice touch. I mean it," she crooned with genuine pleasure. "So eager. But so gentle..."

He rubbed her nipples through her blouse, then he took each between his finger and thumb and pinched it, almost imperceptibly at first, then a little harder, then more gently again.

She moaned softly. 

"I think you should undo my blouse and see them and kiss them, Thomas..."

She delighted in the intensity of his gaze as he unfastened her blouse and slid it slowly open.

"Do you like them?"

"Oh yes, Mrs Barrett. I love them... and..."

"Hmmm?"

"I... I really like your nipples. I... I like their size. I like their colour..."

"If you tease them they will go bigger, Thomas... and harder..."

She crooned with delight as he kissed and sucked her sensitive breasts, slowly and tentatively at first, then more passionately. 

"Mmmm, Mrs Barrett. I love the feel of your nipples going big and hard in my mouth..."

She shuddered with delight and let him continue for some minutes, luxuriating in the feel of his mouth and his hands, and in his spoken admiration of her.

"What about my legs? Do you like them? Would you like to kiss and fondle my thighs, love?"

She nudged his head down to her skirt hem. He nuzzled her stocking-clad thigh below her skirt hem and stroked her upper thigh through her skirt. She hiked her hem higher.

"I... I've admired your legs for quite some time. I never dreamed... they're lovely, Mrs Barrett..."

She felt his wet tongue trail along the top of her stocking and along the line of her suspender. He tugged on it with his lips and fondled her thigh gently.

"Ask me to stand up and take off my skirt, Thomas..."

"Pl-please, Mrs Barrett... please take your skirt off..."

"Why, Thomas?"

"I... I want to see your legs -- all the way up..."

"All the way up to where, Thomas? What else do you want to see?"

"Y-your pu-pussy, Mrs Barrett. I... I want to see your...

"My mature, married fanny, Thomas?"

Again the old-fashioned word thrilled him. It emphasised their age difference and lent an air of false innocence.

"Say it, love."

"I... I want to see your m-mature, married fanny, Mrs Barrett..."

Diana had not felt so aroused for years. She stood up and watched him stare as she unfastened her skirt. He watched it glide down her shapely, slender legs as he had a few days earlier. But now her intentions were clear. Now he would see -- and sample -- everything that she had. He watched her underskirt slide down her legs to join her skirt. She kicked them both off.

Her lacy black panties were brief rather than tiny, sexy rather than slutty, perfect for her age. Her suspender belt and suspenders framed her black lacy panties, and the black lingerie contrasted lusciously with her pale skin. 

His hungry stare made her feel sexy, wanted, needed. She slowly traced her fingers over her panties. To his delight she dragged them to one side. Her pussy lips were pinky-brown and pouting. Her mound was shaved smooth apart from an inverted triangle above it, pointing like an arrowhead to her pussy. Her brown pubes were cropped short.

She dropped her blouse to the floor and lay on her back on the bed, naked save for her panties, suspender belt, stockings and suspenders.

"Take your clothes off, Thomas. Show me that young willy. Then take my knickers off. Fondle my fanny for a few minutes and kiss me on the mouth and on my boobs, love..."

He unbuttoned his shirt and dropped it to the floor. He kicked off his shoes, pulled off his socks, and removed his trousers. He was embarrassed about the bulge in his boxers, and shy of taking them off. She smiled encouragingly.

"I've shown you mine, Thomas. Show me yours. Show Mrs Barrett your hard young willy, love... oh yes!"

He had never heard it called that before. He saw her stare as his erect cock came into view, sticking out rudely and pointing at her.

She smiled again. It wasn't as thick as her husband's, but it was a bit longer. Young, too. Very hard. And very eager, twitching as if in salute. And it was a virgin one. No doubt it had erupted often into hand or handkerchief. But it had never been inside any woman or girl. She would be its first. And she had engineered this very moment. No longer a victim of her husband's cheating, she felt empowered and excited.

"He's so young and eager, Thomas. He looks so hard, too. I can't wait to feel him inside me, love..."

He stood and bent over her. He pulled her panties slowly down, kissing her lovely legs, as he did so. He knelt on all fours beside her and kissed her on the mouth. He grunted and groaned as he kissed her on the mouth and began to suck her breasts once more, but he was gazing at her mature, married, pouting pussy. He felt guilty and dirty at the thought of entering what her husband had often entered, forbidden territory that belonged to another. But, he told himself, the swine had forfeited his sole rights to her.

Diana felt a warm glow. She was about to abandon herself to a lad half her age. Her husband had neglected her and sought his pleasure elsewhere, but here kneeling over her was a young lad driven with lust for her. The emotional intensity was as strong as the physical arousal she was enjoying.

Despite her intention to take things slowly, she was now as aroused as he was. Besides, she knew that if they chose to -- to be more accurate, if SHE chose to -- they could do it all over again before they headed home.

"I think you should lie between my stockinged legs, Thomas, and fondle and finger my fanny, love..." she murmured.

He shuffled down the bed with his legs overhanging it. He stared at the inviting, musky pussy before his face, the shaved mound and the brown cropped but hairy triangle pointing to her long slit.

"Do you like her, Thomas?"

"Yes, Mrs Barrett, I really like you."

"I didn't mean ME, Thomas. I meant Fanny. Do you like Fanny?"

"Yes. " He was annoyed at his stupidity.

"Stroke her. Gently. Rub the edge of your finger along the slit. Rub the hood and the hard little button... ohhh yesss!"

He stared at her smooth, shaved mound and crinkly lips as he stroked and caressed her, following her promptings. He was eager to be inside her, but he wanted to please her too. She raised her hips and rested her legs over his shoulders. He caressed her firm thighs and the soft hair above her pussy. He fondled her mound and puffy outer lips. She gasped. At her prompting he teased the sticky bottom of her slit. He dragged his moistened finger to the little flap at the top of her slit and rubbed it. He found the button and pressed his finger against it.

"Is... is that okay, Mrs Barrett?"

"Oh Thomas, it's more than okay. Yes, like that.. but just there, that's it ohhh yesss!"

She guided his fingers and thrust herself gently against him. He was learning fast, and she was delighted at his eagerness to give her pleasure instead of just taking his own.

"Keep doing that, Thomas... keep doing it, ,just there, that's it..." she gasped. "Make your naughty neighbour come. I want you to see me come, and FEEL me come. Then I want you to take that hard willy in your hand and push it inside me and shag me hard..."

He felt her body begin to tense, then to shudder. Her legs and feet began to slap against his back. He turned his head to one side and sucked her inner thigh. She began to twitch and jerk, and her breathing came in shallow, laboured bursts. She closed her eyes as her climax engulfed her. Despite his inexperience -- more probably partly because of it and the emotional intensity -- it was one of the most powerful she had experienced.

She gave a few last thrusts against his fingers. Then she rolled over. She laughed saucily.

"That was one hell of a come, young man! Thanks a million, Thomas. Now your turn, you stud!"

She took the condom that she had opened earlier and, waving it, beckoned him closer. Her breathing was still irregular.

"No affair and no babies, love. Let me put this on..."

Her husband had undergone a vasectomy years earlier. Even before that she had disliked the distraction of putting on condoms. But she was not going to risk pregnancy or infection. She had bought a large quantity over the internet. And she had repeatedly practiced rolling them onto carrots until she could slide one on -- and securely with no danger of air bubbles and the risk of bursting -- in one smooth, swift movement.

She stared at his bare, throbbing purple end as she eased on the condom and slid it down. She wanted to caress it and shaft it but refrained, not wanting him to come. He stared too at her fingers sliding down his swollen length. He knelt over her, bracing his arms on the bed. She reached down and guided him into her slick tunnel.

He gave a few slow, gentle thrusts then, as she had expected, he immediately began to drive faster and deeper. She had already had her climax and wanted him to enjoy his, undistracted. She dug her feet into the mattress and pushed up in time with him. She clasped his body closely. She knew that in his inexperience he would not last long, but did not care.

"Aaaaghhh, Mrs Barrett, ohhhh..."

She felt him tense and push deep inside her, then empty himself, his body spasming against her.

She held him close until he was spent and rolled off her. She looked at her watch. They still had another forty five minutes or so before they needed to leave. There would be enough time for a respite and then to go at it again before she would have to go home to make her cheating husband's meal. She remembered her father's trout fishing and his explanation about patience and playing the fish if you wanted to succeed. She smiled. She had played her catch and landed it, and now it lay gasping in her hands! Like any good angler she would release it in the hope -- for her, now, the SURE hope -- of doing so again, and again. She knew too that she would have a smile and a warm inner glow of contentment for the rest of the evening. And she sensed that that smile and glow would become commonplace. She also knew that she would chuckle to herself as she handled and peeled the carrots for the evening meal for herself and her husband Keith. 



Diana's Self-Liberation Ch. 03



ALL CHARACTERS ARE FICTIONAL AND OVER 18

________________

They both lay still for a good five minutes or so, each enjoying their own thoughts. Diana felt warm and vibrant, more alive than she had done in months, maybe years. She felt feminine, sexy, and desirable. She had seen and felt the keen intensity of her young lover as he gave himself to her. A few pangs of shame bothered her too, and recriminatory thoughts and names for herself came to her mind. 

She had never before had sex as pure sex, sex for its own sake without any affection for the other person. She remembered her calculated and meticulous planning, the way that she had settled for Thomas by the process of elimination and by the criteria of convenience. He was shy and less than half her age. And until a few moments ago he had been a virgin. She, a married woman old enough to be his mother, had seduced him.

But there again -- he was twenty years old and had not exactly resisted her advances. Nor was he showing much sign of wanting to get dressed, muttering apologies and heading for the door. No, the fish that she had played and landed had been glad to take her bait and seemed very content to be in her net. Besides, she told herself, maybe having sex with her would help his confidence. Maybe it would help him to find a girlfriend. And when he had one -- well, however compatible or incompatible their personalities, he would certainly know how to stimulates and satisfy her physically. She would treat him with respect and consideration. He deserved it. She had no downer on men generally, just on her husband.

She had never cheated on her husband Keith -- or, even before marrying, on any boyfriend, for that matter. She looked at her wedding and engagement rings, and at the young, rather skinny naked body on the bed beside her. Then she reminded herself that her husband had been cheating on her long before. What she had done was not cheating. It was satisfying a physical need she had. And a psychological one. And a kind of secret revenge, like sticking up two fingers behind the boss's back. 

She was now no longer a victim. She had taken control of the situation and turned it around. She had contrived and planned and manipulated, and the outcome had been a complete success. She felt strong and empowered. She would keep it all a secret, but, who knows, maybe one day she would confront her husband, Keith, and tell him. Not the identity of her lover, but tell him about her liaisons. Even now she felt good inside. Whatever Keith was doing right now -- who knows, maybe he was screwing his latest conquest right now -- he had no idea what his own wife was doing. He had no idea that she had just come as she clasped a young virgin lad tight to her and felt the power of his orgasm inside her...

Thomas had few thoughts other than reliving in his mind what had taken place. He would never have dreamed that he would one day have sex with his sexy neighbour whom he had fancied for several years. Not having a girlfriend, he wanked often, and more often than not it was with thoughts of her.

Diana caressed Thomas' lean chest and brushed her fingers over his nipples. He sighed and rolled onto his side to face her. He looked into her eyes and smiled shyly. She returned his smile.

"Hmmm... was that good, Thomas?"

"He nodded.

"Yes Mrs Barrett. It was... even better than I imagined. And... and that's saying a lot."

She felt a warm feeling inside. She saw his eyes leave hers and sweep over her breasts, her belly, her crotch and her black-stockinged thighs. She watched his hand cup her breast and play with it adoringly.

"Was... was it okay for you, Mrs Barrett? I... I'm afraid it was my first time and..."

She put her hand under his chin and drew his face to hers again.

"Thomas, I can honestly say that that was REALLY good. What you lacked in experience you made up for in intensity, love..."

She watched him blush.

"Besides," she continued, "I can help you learn. I can teach you lots. And you can teach me, too."

He laughed with embarrassment.

"I don't think I could teach you, Mrs Barrett."

She continued to stroke his chest, his shoulders, and his back, tracing her fingers gently up and down, gently teasing his skin with her nails. He ran his fingers along her suspender belt, her suspenders and her stockingtops.

"But you can, Thomas... you can tell me what you find exciting. You can tell me what turns you on. You can tell me what goes on in your mind. Then I can learn how to please you as YOU learn how to please ME."

"I... I don't know about that, Mrs Barrett... I... I'd be a bit shy to do that. And... you might not want to know some of what goes on in my mind..."

"We'll see, Thomas. You don't have to tell me what you don't want to..."

She reached her hand down and stroked his flaccid member. She slid the condom off him and looked at it. She gazed with satisfaction and mild revulsion at the copious fluid inside it. She leaned to the bedside cabinet, wrapped it in a tissue, and left it there.

She took his floppy cock it in her hand and caressed it tenderly. Like him, she watched her hand and the soft manhood enclosed in it. She watched his fingers tweak her nipple. She flinched a little.

"Sorry Mrs Barrett -- did I hurt you?"

She smiled at his sweet concern.

"No Thomas, of course not. My nipples just go ticklish for a while after sex, that's all. You can carry on fondling my boobs though... I like the way you do that, Thomas -- you have a very nice touch."

She caressed his balls. He sighed. Her fingers felt very luxurious as they caressed and gently squeezed them.

"Mrs Barrett is a bit of a mouthful when we're in bed together, Thomas. You sure you don't want to call me by my first name?"

"If you like, Mrs... Diana."

"What do YOU like, though, Thomas?"

She saw his hand focus on her hand -- on her ring finger as it fondled and caressed his cock and his balls.

"I... I quite like calling you 'Mrs Barrett', but if you'd rather..."

She kissed him on the mouth.

"I'd rather you called me what you WANT to call me. Why not call me 'Mrs B' when we're like this, though? It's a bit less formal and it sounds like a pet name. But it's still a reminder that the boobs you fondle and the fanny that your willy probes and comes inside belong to a woman who's old enough to be your mother, and who shares a bed with her cheating bastard of a husband."

She saw him grimace. She laughed.

"Don't feel guilty, Thomas. I don't. Being older and married yet here in bed with you, naked, is as much of a turn-on for you as it is for me!"

She fondled his thigh and his firm bum cheeks. He reciprocated and nuzzled her breasts, avoiding her nipples in case he tickled her again.

She spoke softly to him. It was an opportunity to mention the ground rules discreetly and gently before recommencing foreplay. She kissed and nuzzled his neck and shoulder as she mentioned them. This wasn't the start of an affair, it was simply no-strings sex. There was to be no discussion of personal feelings or details that would build an intimate bond. He was not to attempt to contact her unless he really had to, and even then it must only be on the mobile number that she had rung him from, her special, dedicated mobile that she had just bought and that ostensibly was for work purposes. No gifts, no flowers, no cards, no love-letters. All had to be discreet. He should keep no diary, or if he did he must make sure that it was kept secret on his computer and inaccessible to others even there. Nor was he to talk about her to anyone else. She gently reminded him that her husband was stockily-built and might hurt Thomas if he found out.

She built up slowly to her final term and condition. She was eager to mention it but without exposing her vulnerability too much.

"One more thing, Thomas, love..."

She traced her hands over his belly and down to his silky pubes.

"Anything, Mrs B..."

"Whenever you want to stop seeing me I insist that you tell me. I don't want you to carry on just to avoid hurting my feelings. I like you, Thomas, but I don't LOVE you, nor can I see myself ever doing so. I would miss you at first but it wouldn't break my heart, I would get over it and in time I would find someone else to screw me. But I DON'T want your pity. I DON'T want you to carry on if your heart is no longer in it just out of duty or pity. That would hurt my feelings more than telling me you don't want to see me any more."

He nodded, embarrassed, and agreed, as she murmured that from time to time she would want him to look her in the eyes and tell her how he felt about continuing to have sex with her.

"Thank you, Thomas. And now... let's get this willy hard and ready for action again. I presume you want to fuck your naughty, older, MARRIED neighbour again?"

"Oh yes, Mrs B. I want to... to be inside you again. I want to fuck you again, Mrs B..."

To his surprise she flicked the end of his knob several times, bracing her finger against her thumb and flicking his tender tip with her fingertip. It hurt slightly, but he watched and felt himself begin to harden immediately. She wrapped his swelling cock in her hand and shafted him slowly. She raised her hand to her mouth and licked her palm, then wrapped her moistened hand around him again.

"Have you ever had your willy sucked, Thomas? Ever had it in a soft, warm mouth and felt that mouth licking and sucking it?"

"No, Mrs B..."

"Have you ever wanted to have that done, love?"

"Yes."

"Even if it was the mouth of a forty-three year old married woman from across the road who always seems prim and proper but likes to act like a slut, Thomas?"

"Yes."

She kissed him on the mouth and ran her lips and tongue down his chest and belly. She licked his nipples and tugged on them with her lips. She licked his inner thighs and kissed his tip. She shuffled round to face him and smiled coyly as she licked along his hardening length and his bared tip. He groaned as he looked into her mature, slightly lined face with its rude expression. She teased his tender tip with her tongue, tracing her tongue slowly and lightly over it. She maintained eye contact with him. He was staring at her, an eager, intense expression on his face. His arousal made her feel good.

He gazed as she parted her lips and slid her head down, taking him into her soft, warm mouth. She rocked her head up and down. She paused with his hard cock just inside her mouth and he felt her tongue poking into his slit. She pulled her head away and stared at him as he watched her licking his purple, glistening end. She took him inside her again and began to suck as she moved up and down. He watched the puckering and release of her cheeks and savoured the rude sound and sight.

She stopped in order to prevent him from coming too soon. She straddled his belly and knelt up astride him. She took his hands in hers and pressed them to her modest breasts.

"You said it was better than you imagined, Thomas. Have you imagined me a lot?"

"Yes, Mrs Barrett -- sorry -- Mrs B."

"Have you imagined me naked?"

He blushed and nodded, thrilling in the feel and sight of her breasts under his cupped hands.

"And you tried to imagine yourself having sex with me?" she continued. 

"Yes."

"Just since the other day -- or even before that?"

"Be.. before."

He felt awkward and dirty, but she smiled encouragingly.

"You've imagined having sex with me for some time, then?"

"Yes."

He looked into her smiling face, then at her hands as she guided his around her lovely, semi-firm orbs. He flesh rippled and surged sensually, and her nipples were beginning to harden. He gazed at her belly with its horizontal creases of slight fat, and at her black suspender belt.

"And did... did your willy go hard thinking about me?"

"Yes, Mrs B."

"I know that you found it hard not to look at my legs in the car. And I saw a bulge in your trousers sometimes, and saw you trying to hide it. That made me feel good, Thomas."

She reached behind her and gave his cock a gentle squeeze.

"And sometimes, Thomas, when your willy went hard and you thought of me -- did you... did you play with it?"

He nodded. He felt ashamed now at leering at her. He felt embarrassed at having to admit to playing with himself as he thought about her. He felt dirty and perverted.

"And did you... you know, Thomas... did you go all the way? Did you make yourself come as you thought about touching my legs, kissing and sucking my boobs, easing inside my married fanny? You can tell me now. Hmm?"

He looked into her face. She looked hungry and eager, not angry or offended.

"Yes."

"Oh, wow, Thomas! You've no idea how good that makes me feel..."

She rocked up and down against his belly. He stared at her shaved pussy with just its brown triangle of cropped hair above it, pointing like an arrow, inviting...

She lay on the bed beside him. She wished she had booked a double room, but she had chosen a single for discretion. He kissed her belly and dragged his tongue along her black nylon and lace suspender belt. He planted kisses against her soft, yielding stomach. His tongue felt eager but restrained. She cooed with genuine delight. He gave a few low grunts of pleasure in return. He traced his tongue along each suspender in turn and kissed and sucked them. He had only ever seen stockings and suspenders in porn and never for real, and they fascinated him. Besides, to see his sexy, mature neighbour in them connected her in his mind to his porn and gave her a slutty appearance and demeanour.

Thomas kissed and licked her thighs. Her skin was pale, soft, and smooth, and her thighs were well-toned. He sucked each inner thigh and nuzzled her lacy stockingtops. He fondled her thighs and legs through the sheer shiny black nylon of her stockings. He lifted her legs and draped them over his shoulders. He kissed and nuzzled them, but all the time he was looking at her pussy. Her lips protruded slightly. Her crinkled slit looked both rude and inviting.

Diana watched and enjoyed his eager fascination. She slid her hand down her belly and over the brown close-cropped pubes above her pussy. She splayed her first two fingers and ran them up and down, one on each side of her pouting lips, pressing down on her spongy mound. He watched intently as he continued to fondle her legs through the sheer nylon of her stockings.

To his delight she slowly flipped her pussy open. He stared at the shiny pink flesh inside, and the entrance to the hole that he had been inside not long ago. He wondered how often it had been entered over the years, and how many others beside her husband had been inside it. It would have thrilled him to know that his was the only cock apart from her husband's that had ever been in its warm, clasping tunnel; the sexy married woman baring it had had sex with her husband before their marriage, but with nobody else before or since -- until today. Thomas stroked the musky flaps and the hood at the top of them. He kissed all around it and sniffed its sweetly musky aroma but, much as he wanted to, he shied away from kissing her pussy itself.

He squirmed higher up the bed and kissed and suckled her breasts, gently then hard, gazing at the stretching of her tit-flesh where his mouth drew it in. He flicked his tongue over her dark nipples and pressed them flat with his tongue, then let them rise hard and erect again. He massaged his chest against her crotch, feeling her coarse trimmed hair rubbing him, feeling too the soft moistness below it against his skin. 

She drew his face to hers and locked her legs around him, squeezing his tall, skinny young body with them. She whimpered and sighed in genuine pleasure as he latched onto her nipples with his mouth and tugged on them.

She drew his face to hers and they kissed deeply, each of them pushing their tongue against the other's, then withdrawing, then seeking it out or awaiting the other's to return. He too was grunting with delight. 

He dug his hands under her backside and kneaded and squeezed her firm buttocks. He ran his hands over her flattish belly and kneaded her breasts with the palms of his hands. Her hands caressed his back gently and tenderly then more firmly, and he felt the hardness of her engagement and wedding rings on his skin.

"What do you want to do now, Thomas? We have half an hour or so left..."

"I... would you mind... putting that silky underskirt on again, Mrs B -- and... letting me take it off you this time?"

"Of course not, Thomas."

"I... it's just that it's the same one you had on the other day -- when you splashed yourself... and... I kind of like the idea of... of it being covered up for me to rediscover. Is... is that okay?"

"Of course it is, love."

Her heart was fluttering as she rolled away from him. He watched as she turned her back, pulled her underskirt to her and slid it up to her knees. He gazed longingly at her pale, curvy bum as she stood up and pulled her underskirt up over them and to her waist. The fabric looked soft, shiny and inviting, and under it the curves of her bum cheeks were easy to see. The lace-trimmed split in the back of it revealed her shapely stockinged legs and its lacy hem drew his eyes to them .too. Her suspender belt pressed against the navy blue fabric.

"Shall I put my knickers back on as well, or would you rather I left them off?"

"Leave... leave them off, please, Mrs B."

She made a mental note of it all, eager to play to his preferences, his fantasies, over the coming days and weeks -- maybe even months. Instinctively she stepped into her shoes. They were not over-high, but she knew that they made her legs look a little longer. She also picked up her crumpled blouse from the floor and slid her arms into it. She fastened just a couple of buttons above her stomach so that it partly covered her breasts and then revealed them as she moved. She smiled at him and walked across the room to her bag.

She took care to stand in front of her handbag to keep hidden the small cassette recorder she had hidden there -- noting with satisfaction that the red recording light was still glowing -- but she took out her mobile and another condom. She strutted slowly backwards and forwards across the room, pretending to check her message box. She spotted his eyes roving over her legs, her backside, her waist and the outline of her suspender belt. She felt his eyes boring into her blouse as it flapped open and closed to almost bare her breasts and cover them once more. She savoured the moments as he gazed hungrily at her without making any move. She felt slightly light-headed, luxuriating in the strength of his lust for her.

She turned her back to him and stepped to the dressing table. She parted her legs and leaned forward. Then she turned back at him, pursed her lips and half-closed her eyes. She rested her right hand on her bum cheek and kneaded it through the navy blue nylon of her underskirt. She well understood his fascination for it. She often stroked and touched herself through satin or nylon lingerie, loving the thin, warm, slippery feel of it between her fingers and her body.

He felt a surge of desire at the sight of his married neighbour, more than twice his age dressed and behaving like a tart, giving him the come-fuck-me with her body language and inviting but crows-feet eyes. She pulled her blouse off and dropped it on the floor.

"Come to Mrs B, love... come and fuck your married randy neighbour, hmmm?"

He got off the bed and strode to her. He stood behind her and cupped her B-cup breasts, staring at their surging and rippling in the mirror and thrilling in their feel, half-soft and half-firm, in the palms of his sweating hands. He tweaked her nipples with the finger and thumb of each hand, enjoying their rubbery hardness. He looked down at his hard cock, glistening with pre-cum. 




Diana's Self-Liberation Ch. 03



He kissed her neck and her lacquered hair. He stooped and kissed her narrow shoulders and the soft skin of her back. He dragged his tongue along her spine and down to the waistband of her underskirt. He stroked and squeezed her bum cheeks, savouring her firm roundness through the thin, slippery fabric.

He sank to kneel on the floor behind her and pressed his mouth against her butoocks through the warm nylon. He slid his hand inside the back split to fondle her legs. His hand slid up her warm stockinged thighs and ran along her lacy stockingtops, then over her bare skin. His fingers met her soft pussy lips, still moist from their recent screwing.

She pulled away and turned to face him. She pulled his face to her crotch.

"I know you're a bit shy of kissing Fanny on her bare lips, at the moment, love. But why not kiss her through her nylon veil, hmmm?"

Her imagery and language sent a shock of arousal through him. She pulled him closer to his prize, that which he had never seen in the bare flesh until today and which now lay under he flimsiest of coverings.

He closed in on it and brushed his lips over her stubbly, closely trimmed pubes, the rough hair under the smooth silky nylon. He inhaled the musk of her arousal and recent sex. He drew his mouth over the soft flesh and found it, the creased skin-folds of his married neighbour's pussy. He rubbed his mouth against it and pressed kisses against it. Her fingers massaged his scalp and she whimpered encouragingly. For a few moments he sucked the swollen lips through the nylon.

She pulled away again and turned with her back to him.

"I know you said you wanted to take off my underskirt, Thomas, but I think you should leave it on but pull it up. It would look ruder, sluttier. And I think you should bend me forward and give Fanny what she wants, love. She's eager for it -- she's so hungry for it that her lips have started to drool -- and I can see that Willy is dribbling, too. I think we should put a nice coat on Willy first and make him presentable for Fanny. Then you can re-introduce Willy to Fanny, Thomas!"

He groaned and hiked up her underskirt. He rubbed himself against the tops of her thighs and her backside, watching his pre-cum transfer to her skin and coat it. For months he had dreamed of this, and now here he was about to enter his sexy neighbour for the second time in an hour...

She knelt and slid the condom onto him. he watched her hand, her ring-fingered hand, slide it down. Then she stood again with her back to him and leaning forward over the dressing table. In a deliciously rude gesture she put her hands over her bum and slid the underskirt up to her waist. Instinctively he held his throbbing erection and guided into her warm, slick opening. He pushed slowly in and out, anxious to delay his climax at least a little. He groaned, and so did she. He squeezed and kneaded her breasts with both hands and kissed her shoulders and lacquered hair. 

He began to thrust harder and deeper, but still kept the pace slow. He whispered in her ear, "Oh Mrs B, that feels so good, you lovely sexy lady..."

She was very aware of his attempts not to come too quickly. She was also anxious to make sure that he did not slip out of her in his inexperience, so she refrained from thrusting back against him. Instead she remained fairly passive, savouring his thrusts, but she put one hand behind her to squeeze his buttock.

"Mmmm, Thomas, yesss!"

As well as the physical pleasure that he was giving her, despite his inexperience, the emotional intensity was heady. She was abandoning herself to this young lad whose virginity she had just taken. He was half her age and she was married, they had no emotional bond, yet here she was enjoying his inexpert thrusting inside her married fanny! Guilt and shame, embarrassment and high arousal, self-recrimination and a sense of liberty were like a dizzying cocktail that sent her senses spinning.

She took his left hand and led it down to her crotch.

"Rub that hard slimy button, Thomas, love. Frig Mrs B's clitty and pound my fanny. Make your randy slutty married neighbour come, you sexy young lad!"

He needed no further encouragement. He ground into her and rubbed her clit. Harder and deeper he thrust and noticed that he was feeling hot and his breathing was becoming irregular. So was hers. He pinched her nipple and shook her swaying breast as he felt himself tense. He slammed deep into her and leaned forward over her stooping body as he emptied himself into her mature, married pussy. 

He still thrust even after he was spent, wanting to bring her to a climax as well. He rubbed her clit rhythmically and soon she gave a few involuntary twitches and quivers below him. He continued to stroke and frig her, and to his delight -- and relief -- she began to buck and jerk against him. He pressed his subsiding erection as hard inside her and thrust as well as he could still manage, and concentrated on fingering her hood and clit. Then she was grinding and spasming below him and against him until, with a few final thrusts on his softening member she was spent. He withdrew from her, watching his condom-adorned cock slide out of her turgid mound. Its tip sagged lewdly, laden with his spunk. He slid it off and wrapped it in a tissue.

She turned, smiling, and they embraced and kissed for a few moments. Then she turned away and began to pick up her clothes and to dress. He did the same, but his eyes were fixed on her, watching each sexy part of her body disappear as she donned her clothes. 

"Thomas, that was so good. We'll come here again in ten days or so. But between now and then we'll have some quickie fun a few times before work... and get to work with a big smile and a sweet aching glow that will last all day!"

He watched as she pulled her blouse over her otherwise naked breasts and buttoned it, then she slid her jacket on and fastened it also.

"And, Thomas, I feel so turned on by the thought of you jerking off as I'm getting ready for work in a morning or at the same time Keith and I are sitting down to eat our tea. I'll have a play myself some mornings, too, love, as I think of your young eager hands fondling my boobs, and your hard young willy thrusting inside me... maybe we'll even be pleasuring ourselves at the same time as we think about each other!"

His heart quickened at the thought. He fastened his shoes as she fastened her skirt and picked up her bag. She stood looking at him. 

"I was wondering, Thomas. As I asked before, why don't you tell me some of the things you fantasise about. I feel adventurous and free and I'd love to explore and maybe satisfy some of them, love."

He was torn between telling her and being too ashamed.

"What else do you think about, when you think about me, Thomas? Do you imagine me dressed in a certain way? Or playing a certain role?"

"I... I sometimes fantasise about watching you doing the housework and... oh, I don't know..."

Now it was her turn to blush, but with excitement as well as embarrassment.

"Go on. What? You watch me bend forward so you can see up my skirt?"

"Yes."

"And then you slip your hand up my skirt when my back is turned? We could act that out some time, I'm sure. What else?"

"I don't know... maybe... maybe watching you in the shower. Then... say, bursting in on you, surprising you, but you invite me to join you..."

"Oh Thomas, I like the sound of that! That would be really arousing. We could soap each other up and then have sex standing up with the water jetting on us..."

Her reaction encouraged him. He could hardly believe that role-play seemed to appeal to her, too.

"Anything else?"

"I... I feel embarrassed and even a bit perverted, Mrs B."

"Try me!"

"I don't know whether I could do it for real or not but..."

"Go on. The more embarrassing you find it the more intrigued I am!"

"I... I sometimes fantasise about you disturbing me playing with myself and then..."

Go on! I really like the sound of this! Seriously, I do!"

"Either you interrupt me and help me or..."

"Don't stop now, Thomas!"

"Or... well you tell me to carry on and watch me... you turn the pages of my porn mags or skip and pause the porn movie..."

"We could do that one time, too! I could make crude comments and egg you on!"

"Oh Mrs B, I... I hardly know what to say..."

"I have some fantasies, too, Thomas."

"I... I bet they're not as perverted as mine, though."

"I don't know. In one I find you with porn or having phone sex and I lecture you about women not just being sex objects and show you what a woman really needs."

"I... shit!"

"Another fantasy of mine is letting you take photos of me -- but not my face -- and watching you wank your willy to them. Then maybe I tell you off. Maybe even punish you!"

She kissed him and hugged him.

"You and I seem to have a lot of similar feelings and thoughts, Thomas. I just know we're going to have a hell of a lot of fun. I need to go now though, love. I'll drop you off near the bus station, then we will arrive home separately. No touching or intimate talk in the car though, love. Let's keep it this way -- each time will be all the better for waiting, too."

He followed her out of the room and along to the corridor. He stood to one side of the reception area, feeling very conspicuous as she handed in the keys. Then he followed her to the car. She tried to make small talk as she drove along, but he was quieter than usual, though he did laugh and smile more than normal. After about ten minutes she pulled into a quiet street a few hundred yards from the bus station and he got out.

"Bye -- Mrs B."

"Bye, Thomas. Have a nice evening -- love!" 

She raised her eyebrows and smiled suggestively as if guessing one thing that he would do once or twice before she saw him the next day for his usual lift in her car.

He waved goodbye and she drove off. She felt warm, and satisfied, and yet still aroused. That night her husband Keith would be attending the Golf Club AGM and she would be on her own. But not quite. She would also have the computer and her new software to keep her company to try out on the secret cassette recording of her first ever unfaithfulness to her cheating husband. She chuckled softly to herself.



Diana's Self-Liberation Ch. 04



Thanks for the feedback on "Seduced by Auntie's story Ch 5"

In a similar vein...

ALL CHARACTERS ARE FICTIONAL AND OVER 18

_________________________

Over breakfast Thomas tried not to think of his sexy married neighbour, Mrs Barrett, who just days ago had seduced him and to whom he had gladly surrendered his virginity, even though he was twenty years old.

She had booked into a motel after work and they had had sex, twice. He had been very conscious of his ineptitude but she had not seemed to mind. In fact she had positively seemed to enjoy his inexperience as much as he enjoyed her considerable experience. And she clearly got off on the idea of getting back at her cheating husband just as much as Thomas enjoyed doing it on the quiet with a married woman. She had even said that she did not want an affair or any other strings attached, and that it was a sex-only arrangement. He could not believe his luck!

Thomas also wondered when she would arrange their first "quickie" session in the morning in her home before they left for work. She had insisted on arranging the times in advance and at random so as to avoid giving neighbours cause for suspicion. Thomas picked up his empty cereal bowl and half-empty mug of coffee from the table and drifted into the kitchen.

"Everything okay, Thomas?" his dad asked.

"Yes, Yes, fine dad. Why?"

"You just seem very quiet this morning – as if something's on your mind."

Thomas blushed. He did have a lot on his mind. A lift into work with the neighbour twice his age with whom he had twice had sex – including a few delicious moments when she had sucked his cock – and with whom there were many more naughty and luscious times in store.

"No, everything's fine, thanks. Just a bit tired."

Thomas' dad left the house for work at about ten to eight, as Thomas was washing the breakfast dishes. His mother left for work just after eight. He had about twenty minutes before he needed to go across the road to her house. More than enough time for a wank. Sometimes he thought of one of the girls who worked in his office. More often than not it was Mrs Barrett that came to his mind. And that was who would fuel his orgasm this morning. She had invited him to call her by her first name, Diana. He had fumblingly replied that he preferred to call her Mrs Barrett (it was an illicit reminder of her married status and of their age difference) and they had settled on "Mrs B" as a less formal name.

He had done it many times previously while trying to guess the appearance of her naked breasts and pussy, the sight, the feel of them, and the sensation of easing himself inside her and thrusting until he came. Now when he closed his eyes he no longer had to guess. He could call to mind the actual sights and sensations.

_______________

Diana felt a little light-headed that morning, too. She had planned the seduction of her younger neighbour for some time. Although she felt guilty at the way that she had manipulated him and that she had entered a no-strings and no-affection, fun-only arrangement, she also felt good. She was no longer a victim of her husband's cheating. She had taken control of her life. And although her husband's seeking younger women had flattened her self-esteem, it was now recovering. Her husband Keith had his string of floozies. But she too now had someone young who found her sexy and attractive. She had seen his enthrallment and experienced it. At her prompting he had even admitted to masturbating to the thought of her. Instead of offending her, this made her feel very feminine, desired and desirable once again – in fact more than she had in years. 

She also felt guilty at having secretly recorded her motel liaison with Thomas on an old pocket-sized cassette recorder. It seemed a betrayal of his trust but she told herself that but for her he would still be a twenty-year old virgin. No, he owed her a debt of gratitude, she reasoned, and being recorded secretly – purely for her own private gratification – was a partial cancellation of that debt.

She had uploaded it onto her computer and run it through some software that she had obtained. She had been able to filter out some of the tape hiss and warble, and whilst the sound quality was still patchy and even at best mediocre, it was a triumph. She had deleted some sections and retained the best. She had messed around with the copy, using it as a master from which to try to improve further. The amateurish quality even after several attempts was a little disappointing but on the other hand it was in keeping with the circumstances in which it had been captured. Most of all, she got off on it as she listened to it and re-lived their time together.

She had had sex with Thomas in a motel. Her plan was to have a brief sexual encounter with him some mornings, but to do so very carefully for discretion. Today was too soon. She must be patient. But she felt excited and horny. Then she had the idea. It was rude and she hoped it would not alienate him. But she was confident that it wouldn't.

_______________

Now in the house alone, Thomas headed upstairs to his room, where his curtains were still closed. He went first into the bathroom and tore a short length of toilet paper off the roll.

He lay on the bed, pulled down his trousers and boxers and began to stroke himself. He closed his eyes and brought his sexy seductress neighbour to mind.

His mobile rang. He was annoyed at the distraction but despite ignoring it, it continued to ring. He decided to answer it in case it was his mum or dad and something was wrong. He grabbed the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi Thomas. It's Diana. Sorry – I mean Mrs B. You sound a bit... is everything alright?"

"Yes. Sorry if I sounded a bit off-hand..."

He felt his stomach flutter with excitement at hearing her voice. She felt the same, though the thought never occurred to him.

"You're all alone – I saw your mum and your dad both leave for work," she continued. It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes. Sorry, is it time to set off already? I... I'm not quite ready. I can... get the bus if you need to set off now," he replied.

He was annoyed with himself. His excitement and shyness were making him babble. He thought of her well-groomed hair, her firm breasts and how good they had felt in his hands and in his mouth. He let go of his hardness, feeling guilty about pleasuring himself while talking to her.

"No, Thomas. No, it's not time to set off yet. I just rang because... I'm alone as well – and I was thinking about you."

She spoke softly into the phone, he guessed this was so that her voice would not be overheard by her neighbours, but it sounded very intimate. Although still excited, his embarrassment made his erection begin to subside.

"I... I was thinking about you, too, Mrs B."

"I bet you're just saying that, Thomas!" she teased.

"No. No, I... I was – honest."

"Okay, Thomas, I believe you. When I say I was thinking about you, Thomas, I meant – in a naughty way..."

He could not believe what he was hearing.

"I... er... wow!"

He felt stupid.

"I haven't put my skirt or blouse on yet, Thomas. I'm lying on my bed with my pretty white embroidered bra on. And my navy blue underskirt on – you know the one!"

"Yes, yes I do... that one you first teased me with..."

"Yes. And I'm wearing it back-to-front at the moment so that the lace-trimmed split is at the front and not at the back. I wish you could see!"

"I... I wish I could, too, Mrs B!"

"I'm sure you do! Because I'm wearing my black stockings and suspenders. My legs are bent at the knees and the hem of my underskirt is half way up my slender thighs. When I look down I can see the top of my stockings and the naked skin of my thigh above it inside the split in my shiny slip, Thomas..."

"Can I... can I come across? I... I'd really like..." he faltered.

"No, I'm afraid not, Thomas. Some days you can come across early, but not today. I mentioned yesterday that today you have to come across as I'm backing the car out of the drive. Different days, different times. Then nobody guesses our – our secret."

"Yes. Yes, sorry." He blushed at the reminder of the cloak-and-dagger, behind her husband's back nature of the affair – or arrangement, or whatever else best described it. His erection gave an approving twitch, too, at the thought of having regular if brief sex in her house in a way that neither his parents nor the neighbours would suspect. 

He thought too of the prospect of arriving at work some days within half an hour or so of fucking this sexy, mature... MARRIED woman, without any of his colleagues suspecting. How surprised they would be! Thomas, the seeming nerd! Thomas, who had no success with females! Thomas who in fact had just had sex with a woman twice his age! Ha!

Diana felt hot. She savoured the feel of her hand stroking and kneading her breasts through her bra, and her mind went back to the feel of his trembling hand doing the same, calling to mind the enthralled expression of his face as he had stared at them yielding to his touch. She even tried to mimic the trembling of his hand as she teased her breasts and sensitive nipples.

"Talking of secrets, Thomas – can I trust you with one?"

"Yes. Yes of course," he replied. Although he felt bad about it, he resumed stroking his half-hard length slowly as he listened to her voice. He closed his eyes and thought of her naked body under his, cast his mind back to her soft murmurs and grunts of pleasure as he had sucked her breasts.

"Well, alright then, Thomas. As I said I'm having naughty thoughts about you. And I'm enjoying them. In fact, Thomas, my hand is fondling my boobs through my bra... my nipple is already half-hard. Oh Thomas, you remember how it looks, how it feels between your finger and thumb..."

"Yes, Mrs B."

"Listen..."

He heard a soft rustling sound.

"That's the sound of my hand caressing and squeezing my boob through my lacy bra... and now I'm tweaking my nipple and gently pinching it – just like you did the other day..."

Thomas felt an almost electric charge run through him. He had rung phone-sex lines a couple of dozen times – always a "mature lady" one – with varying degrees of satisfaction. He had liked the anonymity – the woman on the other end of the phone might be hundreds of miles away. On the other hand, for all he knew, she might be in the next town, the next estate – even the next street!

But it was all just fantasy. The woman talking dirty was probably washing up or peeling veg for the evening meal, or polishing and dusting. The opening zip sounds that were allegedly her dress or skirt coming open probably came in fact from some coat that she kept close by especially for the sound effect. Whoever he got, her voice invariably had a slightly forced, unnatural intonation. But what was happening now with his naughty neighbour did not seem to be fake at all, but real.

"Where are YOU, Thomas?"

"In my bedroom."

"Getting ready for work?"

"Er.. kind of."

You don't sound very sure! Are YOU having naughty thoughts, too?"

"Yes."

"Who about?"

"Y-you, Mrs B. I... I'm thinking of you."

"In a naughty way?"

"Y-yes."

Diana felt a thrill of delight. How good it felt to be desired, to have a young lad so taken with her, so aroused by her! And despite the faltering nature of his response, its quickness left her in no doubt that he was telling the truth.

"Are you dressed, Thomas."

Par-partly."

"Which part?

"J-just my top part."

"Ooh, Thomas. Are you doing the same as me?

Her heart was beating. There was a pause. Could it mean "yes", and he was trying to pluck up the courage? The thought that he might be, that he might be doing it as she spoke to him, was very sordid – yet so appealing! The likelihood that if he was, he was thinking of her as he did it and whilst speaking to her was unbelievably arousing.

"ARE you, Thomas? I've told you what I'm doing... I'm touching my boobs. My hand is down inside my bra now. My skin feels so soft, my titty itself is sort of firm yet sort of soft – but you know that, don't you, because you've fondled them and suckled on them, haven't you? Well, Thomas, are you doing the same sort of thing as me? Hmm?"

She knew that her voice was strained with excitement. Thomas sensed it. Her excitement fed his. But shame still prevented his erection from complete hardness.

"I... sort of, Mrs Barr – I mean. Mrs B. But... but it's not my chest that I'm touching!"

He was feeling less embarrassed and more aroused now. He was thrilled by the whole scenario. It was the opposite of a commercial phone-sex call. There was no anonymity in this. It was the familiar voice of his sexy, mature and married neighbour. Not so much imagination was needed, either. He had seen her – and had fucked her. She had sucked his cock for a short time, too. Better still, right now the sounds he heard were probably genuine and not fake.

"Ohhh, Thomas. Are you touching – your willy?"

"Yes."

He liked the way she used quaint, old-fashioned terms. It emphasised to him their age difference – and with it, her degree of sexual experience 

"Is it hard, Thomas? Is your willy hard?"

"Yes. Well... not completely."

"Oh my! Why don't you... why don't you hold it near the base –resting your hand against your soft silky young pubes – and slap your willy against your thigh?"

"O-okay..."

"And Thomas?"

He felt a twinge of arousal at the barely-concealed excitement in her voice.

"Yes?"

He was conscious of the excited tremor in his voice, too.

"Put the phone near it. Let me hear your swelling willy slapping against your firm thigh, love."

He followed her instructions, enjoying the feel of his tautening member beating against his thigh, enjoying the sight and pretending that it was her thigh it was encountering, enjoying the rude, suggestive sound, and the increasing pulsing as he hardened. 

"Oooh, Thomas, that sounds so naughty! And so lovely!"

The quietness of her voice sounded sexy and naughty, as if afraid of being overheard.

"Is it hard now, Thomas. Is the tip exposed? Is your purple knob-end bare?"

"Y-yes."

"And you're playing with it to make it harder?"

"Yes, Mrs B."

Let me hear..."

A little embarrassed again, he held the phone near his other hand as he shafted himself. Diana felt a shudder of delight as she heard the faint but crude sound.

"What.. who are you thinking about as you're doing it, Thomas? The truth. Is it one of your favourite TV celebrities?"

"You.. you know the answer to that, Mrs B. You – I'm thinking of you. Thoughts of you made me hard this morning before... before I touched myself."

The speed and directness of his reply made its truthfulness beyond doubt. A wave of delight and desire swept over her, and made her pussy tingle and moisten.

"Oh, Thomas, that's nice! And..."

"I... I'm thinking about your lovely... tits," he interrupted. "I'm... I'm thinking of how fabulous they look and feel. I'm... I'm thinking about... about the way your nipples went hard in my mouth when... when I sucked your gorgeous, mature tits."

He flushed as he spoke. He had spoken like this on phone-sex lines, but never for real before.

"Ooh Thomas, yesss! It felt so good for me, too to have them sucked. So tenderly and yet so eagerly. And the feel of that hard throbbing young willy rubbing my leg... and the feel of it slipping up inside my juicy married snatch! Oh, Thomas, you've no idea how much I enjoyed being shagged by you!"

Again he loved her quaint, out-of-date terms, and he called to mind the feel of her hands on his back, the feel of her pelvis grinding up against his, the feel of her whole body coming suddenly to life beneath him, racked by her orgasm...

"My hand's moving over my belly now, Thomas. My nylon underskirt feels so warm, so soft and silky and slippery! Thomas! I love the feel of it under my fingers. And I love the feel of my fingers touching myself through it. Listen..."

She held the phone close to her fingers as they glided over the navy-blue nylon. She pressed her thighs together, bringing delicious pressure on her tingling pussy.

"Now my fingers are sliding inside the open slit of my underskirt... I'm stroking my stockingtops and the bare, sensitive skin above them..."

He heard enticing sounds, the sounds of fingertips and fingernails on scratchy lace and on bare soft skin. He heard her sighing quietly. He screwed his eyes tighter closed as he recollected the sight of her stockings, her suspenders – and of her cropped but hairy bush.

"Thomas?"

"Yes Mrs B?"

"Are you going to wank yourself till you come – while I'm on the phone?"

"I... I dunno... I'm a bit shy..."

Whenever he had made phone sex calls before he had masked his orgasm and hung up immediately afterwards, too embarrassed to continue or end the conversation.

"Not really. You're not REALLY shy, Thomas. You weren't shy when you were thrusting that long hard willy up me, were you?"

"No."

"Well, Thomas. I want to hear you come. When you do I want you to put the phone close against your mouth. I want to hear you puff and pant and gasp like you did when you came inside my mature twat the other day. Will you do that for me? I'll do the same as I come while talking to you, love!"

Her heart was beating as she awaited his answer, every nerve straining. She could hardly believe what she was doing and saying. She felt cheap and nasty. She felt like a silly girl half her age egging on an oversexed boyfriend. She felt ashamed of herself. She should know better at her age. But at the same time she felt liberated. Her husband had been having dirty no-strings sex for some time – why shouldn't she, she asked herself

. 

"Yes, Mrs B," he answered after a few moments' hesitation. "Yes I'll let you hear me c-come, Mrs B."

"Ohhh thank you Thomas, thank you! Are you completely hard now?

"Yes."

"Is your willy dribbling with pre-cum?"

"Yes."

"Me too – I mean my clitty's hard. And my fanny's wet – in fact my knickers are damp with my sex-juices. My fingers are inside my knickers now, Thomas... and now I'm stroking my fanny lips and my hard slimy clit... and now I'm slipping two fingers inside my slippery snatch... can you hear?"

She held the phone close to her probing fingers, hoping that it would capture the rude squishy sound of her thrusting fingers. The sordidness of what she was doing and saying thrilled her. So did the knowledge that he was pleasuring himself, right then, just a couple of dozen yards away from her behind his bedroom curtains. And it was thoughts of her that were driving his pumping hand and bringing his orgasm ever-closer!

"Yes. I can hear."

"I'm going to do it, Thomas. Right now. With you listening. It's for real, I'm not faking it. You make me feel so horny, so sexy, I've got to do it. Partly for your benefit. I want you to hear me. But mainly for my benefit. Knowing you're listening to me as I finger-fuck myself is feeding my lust, Thomas. I have to do it. Right now. Fanny's dribbling, she's so hungry! She needs another finger, two aren't enough..."

"Oh Mrs B. Do it! Do it, you rude, naughty lady!"

Her coarseness thrilled him. He rubbed his balls, then began to shaft his throbbing length again.

"I AM. I'm finger-fucking my snatch and I'm going to make myself come like I did when your hard long willy was inside me...."

He held the phone close to his ear. He heard her sigh several times, then he heard her breathing become more uneven. He knew she must have moved the phone again because he could no hear lewd sloppy noises, accompanied by her sighs and soft, unexaggerated groans. 

"You do it, too, Thomas – wank that willy as you think of me..."

As he began to shaft himself hard and fast, he heard her breath coming in irregular gasps. Mrs Barrett, his neighbour, was coming while on the phone to him and while he was on the brink of doing the same. He closed his eyes and tried to picture her, her face contorted as she rocked her fingers in and out of her hairy pussy, her body rocking and jerking, her breasts surging rudely in synch, her nipples sticking up proudly...




Diana's Self-Liberation Ch. 04



He realised that his own orgasm was imminent. In a flash of inspiration and crudity he pressed the volume button of his mobile.

He felt himself tighten. He tensed his leg muscles and tugged on himself hard, fast, almost roughly. 

"I... I'm going to come for you Mrs B..."

He made no attempt to hide his laboured breathing. He felt himself spasm, watched the rude spurting and pumping of his milky spunk and felt it dribble onto his hand.

There was a pause for a few moments then he heard her voice again.

"Thomas?"

Her breathing was still uneven. He knew that so was his.

"Yes?" He knew that so was his.

"Hell, that was hot! For you and me both. We both need to get cleaned up – and dressed – and ready for work now. See you in about five minutes. Wait till I'm backing the car out..."

"Yes. yes I will, Mrs Barr- Mrs B."

He cleaned himself up with the toilet tissue and went to the bathroom to clean up more thoroughly, still amazed at what had just happened. He grabbed his wallet and his jacket, pulled his curtains open and glanced discreetly out of the window.

She emerged a few minutes later, wearing a knee-length black pinstripe skirt and a plain navy jacket. She was wearing a white shirt under it. The back of her skirt had a slight split, and his mind raced to her soft silky underskirt and the explorings of her hand. Her shapely legs were clad in black nylon – he knew she was wearing stockings and suspenders rather than tights.

He watched her get into the car and back out of the drive. Then, pretending to be disorganised and on the last minute, he ran downstairs, stepped out of the front door, locked it and jogged across the road to join her.

As previously, she made small talk on the journey. He glanced repeatedly at her breasts inside her jacket and at the smart skirt covering her thighs. He glanced at her face, too, and they made eye-contact and exchanged several meaningful but coy smiles and grins.

She pulled the car in near to his workplace. He got out and as he leaned forward to close the door she too leaned forward. She glanced to make sure that nobody was close enough to hear.

"This morning was so much fun, Thomas. We'll have to do the same thing again in front of each other and watch each other some time. But not on Wednesday morning, love. We'll have a quick, dirty shag before we set off. Or if you like I'll suck your willy till you come. Speak to you tomorrow, love. Bye!"

"Bye – Mrs B!"

He headed along the pavement to the office where he worked, conscious of his need to concentrate and drive out thoughts of his naughty neighbour for the next few hours. She drove past without waving, to avoid attracting attention. He thought of her black stockings, that sexy nylon underskirt, her pretty bra and the good things underneath them all. He thought of their naughty time on the telephone and of the visit to the motel. And he thought especially of two days' time when they would have each other for real once again. He shook his head in disbelief, made mental notes of his workplace tasks for the morning, and stepped through the door of the office.



Diana's Self-Liberation Ch. 05



If you haven't read any others in this series, chapter 2 at least would set this chapter in context. 

_________________________

Diana dismissed the very notion to begin with. It seemed too risky a way to have sex with Thomas, her twenty-year old virgin neighbour whom she had seduced. If it were discovered she would lose her reputation, and even if she kept her job she would find her position untenable.

But the notion was not so easily dismissed. It kept recurring. And each time it did, it sent another root down into her mind where it began to grow.

There was an element of risk to it; but then there was also a risk in having quickie sex in her house after her husband Keith had left for work. There was a degree of risk, too in booking into a motel for more leisurely sex -- it carried the risk of being recognised there or on her way there or back. And there was also something very naughty -- deliciously so -- about the notion. The danger was slight, but real nevertheless. It sent a thrill of excitement through her.

And the risk was small. After all, she mused, she was due to work overtime the following Tuesday night. It was a regular task of hers every three months to collate the previous quarter's figures and put them into a report for the partners of the firm.

Nobody else worked overtime with her. It was her individual task. She would be in the office alone. Alone in the whole building. Or not -- if she chose to have Thomas join her. The risk of being discovered was minimal.

She still resisted the idea, though. She looked for rational objections, but the truth of the matter was simply that she found it shocking and pushing the boundary a little too far. 

She knew it deep down. That was why her mind kept throwing back a counter-argument against each objection that she raised. So in the end she had her instinctive reservations against it and nothing else.

Moreover, she had to admit that the idea had a lot to commend it. She liked the idea of role-play and a motel room offered limited scope for variety. To invite Thomas to join her after hours in the office where she worked would offer considerable scope for office sex. Besides -- she admitted to herself begrudgingly -- even though Thomas was kind enough to go halves on the motel room hire, the cost still added up. So, with a few palpitations in her stomach, she had to admit defeat -- or, she thought with a smile, was it victory?

She broached it with her near-virgin lover one morning in the car as she drove. He blushed bright red and could barely contain his excitement.

As always, Diana was very cautious and very anxious that nothing should arouse suspicion. For example, as with their motel visits, they needed to arrive home separately and with a good time interval between. Moreover he would need to think up a plausible excuse to his parents for being home late. 

Given his shyness and slight nerdiness this was easier said than done, but after some debate over the next few days they decided on his supposed attendance at a leaving do for someone in the office where he worked. He tended to speak little about colleagues at home, and as his parents knew none of them, it seemed a reasonable story.

Diana was increasingly nervous and excited as the day drew near. As well as offering her the opportunity for sex that she was planning, being one of just three keyholders enabled her to arrive at work early one or two mornings to do some preparation on the report. So on the evening in question there would be little work and much play.

_________________________

When the great day arrived she had difficulty keeping focussed and casual. The problem got worse as the day progressed. But as well as the growing excitement with each passing hour there were other aspects of her elation. 

First and foremost was the nagging fear of being discovered and of the serious trouble, scandal -- and unbearable snide gossip and giggles -- that would ensue. Secondly there was the delicious feeling of having a secret that nobody in a hundred years would ever suspect of her. Diana the staid, Diana the dutiful wife, Diana the reliable, Diana the rather boring... she knew how some of her colleagues considered her, especially some of the younger ones, and her younger female co-workers in particular. She found herself having to stifle grins as she thought to herself, "Ha! If only you knew the half of it!"

Since her determination to liberate herself from her loss of self esteem she had begun to wear clothes for work that, while still conservative, were a little smarter, a little more eye-catching than before. She got a buzz to be turning one or two male heads; it had not happened for many years.

And, despite the nagging doubts and fears, she found herself glancing round the office at her colleagues from time to time. Then she cast her eyes down to her handbag. Inside, hidden in her purse were three condoms. And inside her shopping bag, carefully wrapped inside a thick white plastic bag was a change of panties, and another skirt and blouse. And a change of shoes. 

She glanced around again at her colleagues. How dumbfounded they would be if they knew what she had hidden -- and where and when they were due to be used! And as Diana looked casually around, it was even juicier than she anticipated to picture her and Thomas, her near-virgin, half-her-age lover, doing it on this desk or that chair. She urged herself to re-focus on her work.

_________________________

Thomas' own excitement prevented him from considering Diana's, but in fact his feelings and thoughts mirrored hers. He knew that he was perceived in his workplace as something of a nerd, though he evoked pity rather than mockery. He had once let it slip that he had never had a girlfriend and immediately wished he hadn't. 

But now his confidence was increasing. He had someone special after all. Not a girlfriend but -- to him, better still -- a ladyfriend. A mature ladyfriend. A mature, MARRIED ladyfriend. And a mature, married ladyfriend with whom he was having sex. Secretive but regular sex, in fact.

So the pity and slight fun that people made of him were now unwarranted. In a matter of weeks he had been catapulted out of his virginity. And he found himself smirking to himself -- especially on those days when he was due to have sex with Diana in a motel after work, and even more so on mornings when he arrived at work just half an hour or so after sex with her. Like Diana he savoured the secrecy of his affair and the fact that nobody would ever imagine it of him. It gave him a powerful thrill. 

When one or two of his workmates bragged about the football match they had attended the previous evening his stomach fluttered with excitement. "I can beat that!" he felt like retorting. "Just half an hour ago I was coming in the mouth of my sexy, married neighbour!"

But of course he didn't. He never would do so. But it remained true, and its power to shock to the core everyone he worked with remained a real thrill. And tonight... tonight was going to be something else.

Thomas loved the quickie sex with Diana. He loved its sordid nature, loved the cloak-and-dagger, behind-the-respectable-curtains nature of it. He liked the lack of foreplay, straight-down-to-it and still half-clothed aspect of it, and in particular he liked the way that Diana got straight into it. He respected her and genuinely liked her greatly, but the hurried nature of these occasions seemed to lend a sluttiness to her behaviour, at least in his mind. 

But there was no denying that the more leisurely times they spent together were more special. He relished the intimacy, the slow build-up, the kissing and cuddling, and the sensual feel of her skin against his. But he had fantasised about her in various settings and scenarios, and a motel room was not entirely conducive to some of his fantasies.

In particular he had often imagined himself as one of her colleagues, secretly admiring and checking her out across the office and, maybe -- though until recently it had seemed a vain imaginary thing that could never come to fruition -- maybe being invited by her to stay behind and assist her. Then -- so his thoughts had often raced -- maybe, maybe he would pluck up the courage to run his fingers inside her skirt hem or down her blouse neckline. Or maybe -- and he had often masturbated to this thought -- maybe this sexy lady with her beaming face and soft voice would take his hand in hers and lead it herself to one intimate part or other of her mature but sexy body.

And now -- with the clock ticking -- such very workplace fantasies were just hours away!

_________________________

Diana tried not to keep looking at her watch. It just made the time drag more slowly. It was difficult not to, though. And each time she did, a flutter went through her. As five o'clock approached she made herself eat the sandwich she had bought earlier. Her mind was in overdrive as the pace in the office around her started to slow down a little.

She nodded appreciatively at the one or two sympathetic grimaces and guilty comments from some of her colleagues as they sympathised with her need to remain behind. She fought back a smile and tried to maintain a resigned expression.

She ran off a print from the computer system. It would not contain quite all the data she would need, but it would contain much of it. She checked through it and updated her spreadsheet as far as she could. Her heart fluttered again. She reckoned now that to compile the final report after the computer system shut down for the end of the working day and month would not take more than about three quarters of an hour. Which left plenty of time to play.

It was now five-twenty.

At last -- at long, long last -- the last of her colleagues left for the day. Diana locked the door after them and went to the toilet. She looked at her reflection in the mirror, washed her face, and changed into some fresh panties. She lightly sprayed some deodorant under her arms and applied some perfume behind her ears. 

Then she headed back to her desk. It was no good trying to look at the report she needed to prepare now. To concentrate was impossible.

Her workplace did not permit mobile phones to be switched on in office hours but she had switched hers on as soon as she had locked the door behind her colleagues, and now -- for the third time -- she made sure she had indeed done so. It was an old pay-as-you-go handset that she used purely for speaking to Thomas, and she had told her husband Keith it was for work purposes. 

Thomas usually finished work at five, but they had arranged for him to arrive just before six, when there would be fewer people around and when the neighbouring business premises would all likewise have finished work for the day. She headed along the corridor to check out the two other rooms she planned to use. It was a useful way to fill the time. She also went downstairs to check that she had definitely locked the front door to the office, and returned to her own office again to await the desperately awaited call from Thomas.

Five-fifty-two. With her mobile clutched in her hand, she waited in the narrow corridor near the back door to the office. It remained locked during the day but most people used it on arrival at work for the day. It avoided having the front door open and having clients call in before the office was ready for business. The top quarter or so was of opaque and wired glass. It did not afford a view outside but she could picture the scene: a half-open courtyard with a few ornamental trees and shrubs. It was private and not overlooked, especially at this time of the day. It was the perfect entrance for an illicit visitor.

Although she was expecting it, the ringing of her mobile startled her. She knew her voice must sound flustered, but it did not matter.

"Hello?"

"Er... hi, Mrs B. It's me. I'm just approaching the corner of the square now..." Thomas said.

"Right, love. See you in a minute." She smiled. He avoided calling her by her first name and her surname seemed too formal. He had also confessed that he liked the naughty reminder of her marital status.

She eagerly awaited the obscure, moving outline through the opaque glass that would announce her young lover's arrival. She unlocked the door and swung it open for Thomas to enter, then pulled it firmly closed behind him. To her delight he had his laptop with him for added effect. They kissed. As they embraced she felt his chest press against her breasts and his hardness against her crotch. She knew that, like him, she was quivering slightly with anticipation. A tingle of delight ran through her.

She broke away gently and held her hand up, with the palm facing him.

"Let's start, love. No touching for now. Let's play naughty colleagues, love," she murmured.

Thomas nodded. He was as eager as she was to pretend to be her co-worker. And although he was keen to touch her and to take her, he knew that there was no rush and that, indeed, the delay would heighten the excitement.

They headed upstairs to the office where she worked. Diana felt very squishy as she knew that, a couple of steps behind her, her lover was staring at her legs, seeking a hint of the line of her panties through her skirt, and that he was struggling to refrain from slipping his hand up its hem to touch her up. It was still a novel and erotic experience for her to be considered so sexy and desirable.

Diana indicated to a desk for Thomas to sit at, and smiled with satisfaction as he booted up his laptop, opened a blank spreadsheet and pretended to gaze at the screen. He glanced up as Diana sat at her desk. He was glad she had chosen the seating arrangement. Each desk had a long horizontal reinforcing panel across the front, and if their desks had been facing, it would have screened her legs from his view. As it was, his desk was at ninety degrees to hers and he could see her face and her breasts in profile.

In his own workplace he avoided ogling the girls or women (apart from the occasional glance), and avoided fantasising about them for fear of feeding a desire that would get out of hand and betray him. Right now he could ogle "Mrs B" freely, but it was still fun to pretend to do so furtively for realism. Moreover, the woman whom he was leering at was in fact revelling in his interest and within the next half-hour or so would allow him to have sex with her. There was no fear of being busted, and no possibility of rejection or outrage.

So, between pretending to study his laptop screen, he shot glances at her. She was wearing a blue blouse with narrow vertical stripes of several colours. He watched longingly the regular rise and fall of her breasts, the way they swelled against the cotton and subsided again. Above her open neckline her skin was pale and looked smooth and enticing. 

Her black skirt reached her knees, but its hem had ridden up her thigh a little. Her legs were clad in honey coloured nylon. He rightly guessed that she was wearing stockings rather than tights, though only her lower thigh was exposed. Her legs were slender and shapely.

This carried on for ten minutes or so. Diana felt his eyes running over her. His eagerness for her aroused her greatly. From time to time she glanced across and, as if the scenario was real, he averted his eyes back to his computer screen.

Diana swung her chair round. Although her skirt continued to cover most of her thigh, her legs were parted a little, and he caught a slight glimpse of her inner thigh just inside her skirt hem. She stood up and walked across to his desk. His pulse quickened and he felt his manhood harden a little more.

Of course, he could have stood up and clasped her to him, or reached out to fondle her bum or her breasts. But for now he continued the role-play and refrained. Yet the headiness of her perfume, the intensity of her closeness and the tension of supposedly not being allowed to touch her almost set his senses reeling.

She leaned forward. Her right breast was just inches from his face. He looked at it, its shape half-evident and half hidden by her blouse.

"Thomas -- please can you check the totals for last month. You offered to stay late and help me -- we do need to get on. And Thomas...?"

"Yes, Mrs B?"

"You seem a little distracted. You need to concentrate on your work." She raised her eyebrows in mock reproof.

She caught him glancing at her skirt hem. Thomas was aware that she had noticed, averted his eyes and focussed again on the computer screen.

"Yes, of course, Mrs B. Sorry, Mrs B." He knew the repetition of her surname was over the top, but he liked the reminder that she was married.

"And Thomas? Please could you do me a favour and make me a coffee?"

"Yes, of course."

She pointed the kitchen area to him. She had boiled the kettle just before he arrived and to save time had even put the coffee and milk in a cup. As he stood in the open doorway she saw him furtively glancing at her again. She felt a flush of pleasure.

He brought the coffee over to her and stood by her desk as he placed it to one side of her. Inside her blouse he could see part of her pale orb, and a glimpse of her bra. It was plain white, and there was a narrow gap between the top of it and her pale skin. It seemed an invitation to peep closer and seek a glimpse of her nipple. His gaze shifted to her black skirt hem, her knees and lower thighs in the honey-coloured sheer nylon.

"Enjoying the view, Thomas?"

He blushed with embarrassment, even though the scenario was only make-believe. He looked into her face and at her well groomed, bouffant hair.

"Sorry, Mrs B?"

"I asked if you are enjoying the view, Thomas."

"Th...the view, Mrs B?"

"Yes. The view down my blouse. The view of my bra. The view of part of my tit. Do you like it? Are you trying to see my nipple?"

Thomas felt his blush deepen at her frank quizzing, even though it was contrived. She swung round on her chair to face him. She shifted position a little and her skirt rode an inch or two higher.

"I don't know why you don't just stick your bloody hand down my blouse and have done with it!"

Thomas gawped, not sure what to say. Her tone was sterner than usual, and her face more aloof.

"I... I'm really sorry, Mrs B. I didn't want to embarrass you..." he faltered.

"Well as I say I don't know why you don't just bloody stick your hand down my blouse and have bloody done with it!"

She glanced around the office, the familiar equipment and furniture, but all deserted save her and her young lover. She was highly aroused.

"Like this..."

He saw her hand rise to meet his and lead it to rest on the V of the neckline of her striped blouse. His hand was trembling. Then, without any finesse or subtlety she slid his hand inside, cupped it over her breast through her warm bra and squeezed it.

"Oh Thomas! Yes, like that, Thomas! Don't just look. Feel them and enjoy them. Get them out and suck them, love!"

In silence they both watched the movement of his hand inside her cotton blouse. Diana gasped as his hand inched to the top of her bra and slid inside. His finger brushed her tender nipple.

"If it helps get it out of your system, unfasten that blouse and kiss those mature married tits, Thomas!"

His hand was still trembling with suppressed excitement as he fumbled with her buttons. He slid it slowly open and gazed, spellbound as her bra came into view. He ran his fingers over the floral embellishment and her firm flesh underneath.

She reached behind and fumbled with her chair. It reclined quite far back so that she was almost in a lying position. Her expression was sublime as she raised her leg and rubbed it up between his, back and forth, teasing his erection and his balls. He watched the sensual, enthralling sight.




Diana's Self-Liberation Ch. 05



She tugged her bra up to bare her B-cup breasts. They were still quite firm given her age. He stared at them as if for the first time, still as spellbound by the sight as he had been the first time he had seen them. He cupped them and kneaded them, then he rested his hands on her stockinged thighs. She wriggled a little on her chair and he saw her stockings, the lacy top and her pale skin above them.

"Perhaps you'd like to see my knickers as well, would you, love?"

He nodded. He stared as her hands slid to her skirt hem and hiked it up. She parted her lean thighs and they came into sight. They were fairly scanty, made of black and white, candy-striped cotton.

"Kiss me Thomas..."

He stopped over her and kissed her, fondling her breasts and pinching her nipples. They kissed slowly and deeply, then began to kiss more eagerly. Thomas grunted softly and she made little whimpering and cooing sounds. He found his hardness meeting her thigh and began to hump it through his trousers. 

He played with the straps of her bra and kissed her neck and shoulders, nuzzling her soft skin and the ridge of her collarbone. She looked wanton, still wearing her blouse and bra but with her blouse swept open and he breasts bared by her hitched-up bra cups.

She rose up, pressing her thigh against his thrusting groin, then cradled his head as he dipped down to her breasts. She crooned as he kissed and sucked on her sensitive orbs, arousing her deeply. Although she had only recently taken his virginity he was becoming increasingly adept at pleasuring her. She pulled his shirt free of his trousers and ran her hand up and down his back. He was rather skinny, but to her it added to his apparent innocence and naivety.

"Kneel down love..." she gasped. "You've been trying to glimpse up my skirt at work for weeks now. I know you have. You might as well get a close up view tonight..."

He knelt before her, caressing and scooping her breasts, but his eyes were fixed on her crotch. She parted her thighs wider to give him a better view. Still staring at her crotch, he nuzzled her inner thighs, enjoying the warm softness of her skin above the tops of her stockings.

"Would you like to see what's inside my knickers, Thomas?"

"Yes, Mrs B. Show me. Please. Please show me..." he replied, delighted with the whole office seduction scenario.

"Show you what, Thomas?" she teased.

"Your fanny, Mrs B," he said, using her own outdated terminology. "Your... your cunt," he continued more boldly. "I want to see your cunt."

His choice of word shocked her, but at the same time the force of it was very exciting.

"But the er... CUNT... you wish to see belongs to a married woman, Thomas."

"I know, Mrs B. But I want to see it..."

"How badly, Thomas?"

"Really badly."

"And if I show you, will you be satisfied? Can we get on with our work then? Hmmm? Will you be a good boy when I've shown you?" she urged.

"Yes, Mrs B, I'll concentrate on my work then. But..."

"But what, Thomas?"

"But only after I've stroked it and fingered it. Seeing it won't be enough..."

"I see. And if I were to let you -- and I'm saying IF, I'm not promising -- if I were to let you do that, would you then get on with helping me with this report I need to finish for tomorrow?"

"Yes, Mrs B..."

He was becoming less self-conscious now; the role-play seemed natural and not corny.

"Yes I would. But only after I'd shown you what's in my trousers... and slid it and ground it inside you till I filled your cunt with my spunk. Then I'd be sated and drained and I'd be able to get on with my work undistracted..."

He blushed with excited embarrassment at speaking to her in this way.

"I see..."

Her expression was almost inscrutable, though her pupils were dilated. Then without speaking, she pushed her chair away from him with her feet and rose out of her reclining position.

She knelt on the floor and unzipped his trousers. She tugged them down and rubbed her face over his musky boxers. She sank lower. She raised her eyebrows suggestively.

"We'd better get on and do it then, love. We have a report to finish, after all..."

She smiled saucily at him and winked. Then she began to suck his balls through his soft boxers. At the same time she stroked and squeezed his hard shaft. Thomas groaned. He watched her hand go up her skirt and saw it move under the black fabric -- over her crotch.

He gazed at her face, her expression sublime and her skin slightly lined, as she nuzzled and kissed his genitals, leaving a damp patch on the grey cotton. Then, without speaking, she rose to her feet. She slid her hand into her handbag and from her purse she took one of the condoms. She opened it hurriedly and pulled his boxers down.

Diana grinned with delight at the lewd sight of his erection as it sprang free, and she eased the condom onto the purplish tip than rolled it down. He watched the deft movement of her hand, and his eye rested briefly on her wedding ring. He felt a pang of guilt, but it did not last long. After all, she had seduced him rather than the other way round. Besides, he told himself, her husband deserved her to cheat on him.

"If you're going to shag me we can't do it here. The cleaners might come round soon. We'll go to the boss's office..."

Thomas again relished her slightly quaint obscenity. He kicked off his shoes and tugged off his trousers and boxers from around his ankles, then removed his socks. He unfastened his tie and slid it off, too. Then, taking him by the hand, she led him out of the office and a few steps along the short corridor to another room. There was of course little danger of being disturbed anywhere, but it seemed more fitting -- more naughtily fitting -- to consummate their tryst there.

Thomas' heart was pounding and his naked erection throbbed as she led him to the solitary desk. She motioned to him to sit on the chair, and stood gazing into his eager, lust-filled face for a moment or two. Then she hiked up her skirt and slowly, teasingly slowly, dragged her candy-striped panties down.

He had seen the sight that met him several times now, but the provocative, stripper-like way in which she exposed herself aroused him highly. And now, bit by bit, it emerged: a narrow inverted triangle of brown, cropped hair that pointed down to her hood, followed by her pouting, shaved lips and her soft folds. He watched as she tugged the striped panties down, then saw and heard them glide from her knees to the carpet. He watched her low-heeled shod feet step out of them.

"Oh yes, Mrs B! What a lovely sight!" he gasped.

She sat on the desk, and Thomas sat on the office chair and pushed it close to her. He lifted her stockinged legs and, easing them apart and astride him, rested her ankles on the top of the chair back. He caressed her calves, the backs of her knees and her thighs, savouring the feel of the warm sheer nylon of her stockings and of her firm, shapely legs.

He pulled his chair closer. Her knees were now draped over the chair back. Thomas licked and kissed her stockinged thighs and licked along the top of her stockings. He stared at the honey coloured nylon that covered her legs and admired the way it caught the light, causing it to shimmer subtly. But his gaze was really drawn up her skirt to her bared pussy. It almost seemed to be smiling at him.

He watched as she slid off her blouse and unclasped her bra. He watched its sensual journey off her arms and away from her breasts. He leaned forward and kissed her breasts once more, thrilling in their supple yielding under his face. He licked and tweaked her nipples. They were already quite taut but hardened further as he teased them. As he did so he stroked the backs of her thighs.

Diana half closed her eyes and basked in the pleasure he was giving her, thrilled by his ardent caresses and kisses. She felt a growing moistness between her legs. Thomas stroked her cropped pubes and her soft, swollen mound. He lightly stroked, then gently tugged her moist labia. Diana crooned encouragingly.

She pulled back, swung her feet clear of him, and placed her feet on the floor. She stood up and stood with her back to him where he still sat. Then to his delight she slowly lifted her skirt and held it up around her waist. As with her slow removal of her panties, the gradual unveiling of the backs of her thighs and pale bum cheeks was a feast to Thomas' fixed stare. 

In his porn viewing he had usually been preoccupied with breasts, legs and pussies, and had paid little attention to backsides. But now he appreciated their sensuality, their lovely roundness and firmness. He leaned forward and planted kisses on each of her bum cheeks. He even licked them, though he avoided getting near her bum cleft. And, encouraged by her whimpers and grunts of delight, he sucked part of each globe into his mouth.

She lifted one slender leg and rested her knee on the desk. Now the sight before him was truly reminiscent of a porn picture or movie. She looked ruder with her skirt hiked up than if she were naked. Her bum cheeks stuck out as she leaned forward over the desk, presenting them to him. He saw her modest breasts flop forward slightly. And he saw he pussy lips pouting between her thighs, the slit between her labia now looking slick. The contrast between the pale skin of the backs of her thighs and the shimmering honey colour of her stockings was delightful. 

Thomas eased one finger inside her, a second, then a third. Gently but firmly he pushed them up and down inside her, marvelling in her tightness, her warmth, her moistness. He removed his hand and eased two fingers back inside, crooking them to find her most sensitive part. He began to frig her sticky clit with his other hand. He heard her gasp.

"Do it, Thomas," she urged in a husky voice. "Get that long hard willy and stuff it inside my fanny. Shag me good and hard, Thomas! Fuck me! Fuck me with that wil- that hard cock," she gasped.

Thomas needed no further encouragement. He stood and, looking down at his condom-covered manhood, eased it into her and began to thrust slowly, deeply, smoothly. He was learning how to pace himself each time they had sex. Each thrust was greeted by a rude squishing sound and the gentle sound of his flesh slapping against hers. 

He bent over to kiss and lick the nape of her neck. Her skin was soft and sweet. He kissed her hair. Her perfume filled his nostrils and it briefly occurred to him that every one of his five senses was being stimulated. He braced himself lightly against her back with one hand, and with the other he began to stroke and frig between her legs more firmly, more vigorously.

He managed to last longer than he had done previously (though to be truthful due to his inexperience that was not saying very much) but she began to thrust back against him and he felt the mounting tension in his balls, then drove harder and deeper as he expended himself.

Even after he was spent, however, he still thrust into her, albeit with less force, and, very soon after, he felt her being gripped and shaken by her orgasm. The sight and feel of her body jerking and twitching with abandon fascinated and delighted him. They remained as they were for a few more luxurious moments, gently thrusting still until his dwindling erection slid from her.

She stood up and grinned. Thomas reciprocated.

"Well, well, Thomas!" she said. "Who would have though that my young colleague was such a stud!"

He grinned bashfully. She took his arm and he looked into her kindly, mature face.

"I really mean that actually, love!" she murmured. "That was the best yet! Now you really know how to satisfy a woman!"

She asked him to remove his shirt and lend it to her. Thomas was bemused but did so. It did not fit her very well but she pulled it around herself and fastened a couple of buttons.

She reached down and looked at the nasty sight of the condom, laden with his spent seed. He followed her gaze. He watched her hand clasp his shrinking member and slide the condom off. It sagged obscenely and he could see his creamy spunk through the latex. 

To his shock Diana examined it for a moment or two.

"Blimey, love, you certainly needed that!" she said lightheartedly. 

He was wondering how she planned to dispose of it where it would not be discovered. He was shocked at her solution. With a rude grin on her face she gestured for him to stand against the filing cabinet in the corner of the office. Then she stepped to the window and opened the blinds, then opened the window. She glanced quickly to make sure nobody was nearby and tossed the condom out of the window and into the courtyard at the rear of the office. 

She laughed, and so did Thomas. Then, still wearing Thomas' shirt over her black skirt she led him - naked - out of her boss's office and back to the one where she normally worked.

Thomas did not fully grasp the disposal of the condom bit. He found it rather distasteful and was quite shocked.

But in Diana's mind it represented a kind of secret if temporary memorial to her shameful behaviour. It would doubtless be spotted and greeted with disgust by some of her colleagues when they arrived for work. They would be shocked at the thought of a female having sex in a public place, behind on office on the edge of town and leaving evidence behind.

Diana grinned at the thought of how much greater their shock would be if they knew the truth, that the used condom had come from her, their supposedly staid, respectable and boring colleague, and that a lad half her age had worn it while having sex with her over the boss's desk. 



Diana's Self-Liberation Ch. 06



This chapter continues right where ch 05 left off. If you haven't done so, it would be best to read it before reading this chapter.

All characters are over 18 years old

Am not sure about US usage, but "glasses" in this story means "spectacles".

________________________________________

Diana changed back into her striped blouse and went to the kitchen to make them both a drink.

Thomas got dressed again -- the windows of the office were all hung with vertical blinds anyway -- and awaited her return. Remarkably she was almost fully composed when she did. She placed his drink on the desk where he was seated and spoke softly to him.

"I really must get on with some work for an hour or so now. But cheer up -- it shouldn't take much longer than that. And then we will both be ready to roll again, love!"

She kissed him on the cheek, and again her nearness and the smell of her perfume excited him. He looked at his laptop and decided to edit some of the photographs he had taken on his latest digital camera. It was squishy still to be at liberty to glance across at her, and he availed himself of the opportunity. For now though she was too engrossed in her work to pay him much attention, and he contented himself with fleeting glances. He genuinely had no wish to distract her, and he knew that in any case the sooner she was finished, the sooner their sexual role-play could recommence.

Diana was still acutely aware of his presence and desire for her, but she did her best to focus on collating the data she needed. She made a couple of careless mistakes that cost her ten minutes or so, but on the whole she was quite pleased. She skimmed through it and was content that all was correct and in order. 

It had taken just over an hour and a quarter, but that would still allow plenty of time for another round of sex with Thomas before heading home. To avoid arousing her husband's suspicions she needed to ensure that she was not much later home than on other occasions when she worked overtime. She smirked to herself as she thought ahead to his casual greeting and enquiry after how her work had gone - and to his total oblivion to her having sex there with their young neighbour.

As soon as she pushed her chair back she saw Thomas look up eagerly. She beamed. Thomas' pulse quickened in anticipation as soon as he saw her stand up, and when she walked over to where he was sitting, he felt the start of an erection.

She stooped and put her finger under his chin, raising it a little, then kissed him on them mouth. 

"All done now, love. And you know what that means, don't you?"

Thomas nodded in response. She placed her hand on his shoulder and gazed at the landscape photograph he had on screen. They spent a few minutes chatting about it. She complimented him and asked how he had edited it. Thomas was reluctant to reply, conscious that he easily got carried away when speaking about such things, but he managed to do so concisely and, he trusted, without boring her.

To his delight she kissed him again, warmly and affectionately.

"I'm amazed at your skill and your patience, Thomas, and I'd love to see more of your pictures some time. But not now..."

She rested her hand on his thigh and squeezed it, then she slid it to his crotch. Through his trousers she gave his balls a gentle squeeze.

"Right now, 'Fanny' is hungry. And she wants to feast on something big...and thick... and hard... that will truly fill her up..."

Thomas smiled at the outdated term she used, and at her double-entendre. At each pause she gave his rising erection a squeeze. Thomas groaned, and reached up and caressed her breast through her soft, warm blouse.

To his disappointment, though, she stepped back.

"First though, I'm going to get changed. Then, when the phone on your desk rings, please answer it. It will be me, your 'boss'. It will be a summons to my office -- and I think you know where THAT is by now!"

Although she was smiling saucily, Thomas noticed an eager intensity in her eyes. He gazed at her backside as she turned and walked back to her own desk. He was slightly intrigued to see her pick up her handbag and shopping bag. She walked past his desk and stopped briefly.

"I won't be too long, love. But you must wait for the call!"

He watched her skirt flick alluringly against the backs of her slender legs as she left the room.

_________________________

Diana headed for the ladies' toilets and got changed. She checked her appearance in the large mirror over the old-fashioned washbasins and applied some more makeup. She grinned at her reflection, and headed back to her boss's office, where she and Thomas had consummated their passion a little earlier. 

She had placed an empty lever arch ring-binder on the desk and, despite her guilty feelings, she placed inside it the little cassette recorder on which she had secretly recorded her first sexual encounter with Thomas. She positioned the microphone against the finger hole in the spine of the binder and checked that it would not be noticeable. Later she would enjoy tranferring the recording to her home computer and editing it with the software she had recently purchased with this in mind. 

She would also enjoy listening to it, of course. It would be a permanent reminder of Thomas' desire for her and of their time together. It would also be a lewd accompaniment to her self-pleasuring.

She reached for the telephone but stopped herself. She decided to keep him waiting a few more minutes. It would feed his adrenaline -- and his testosterone, too.

She switched on the record button of the cassette recorder just after she rang him. _____________________________

He was on tenterhooks, almost to the point of being annoyed, and wondered what could be taking her so long, when the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Thomas. Please come to my office. Now." Her voice was rather stern. It sent a quiver of excitement along his spine.

"Er, yes, Mrs Barrett."

He got out of his chair and made his way to the familiar door. He knocked timidly, then stepped inside. After all, she had explained before their rendezvous something of what she had in mind. For now she was the boss and he the wayward junior employee.

Nevertheless her appearance took him by surprise. She usually wore minimal makeup, and although she had not exactly plastered herself with it, she had applied considerably more than usual. Her lips were glossed red, and her eyelashes bore more mascara than usual. She had also put some blusher on her cheeks, and was wearing large hooped earrings instead of her normal small stud types. Her nails were painted bright red. 

The overall impression was slightly overdone without quite looking tarty, which was exactly the effect she had been hoping to achieve. In addition she was wearing a pair of reading glasses, perched half way down her nose. She looked over them at him as he entered the office. When he closed the door she gestured to the chair facing her desk, and he sat down.

She looked down at the contents of a cardboard folder but said nothing. Her heart was beating fast with excitement. He looked at her face and at her breasts. She was wearing a silky white blouse and was evidently not wearing a bra. The shape of her modest, semi-firm but slightly sagging breasts was very obvious under the shimmering satin. The top buttons were open and he could see the top of her shallow cleft. She forced a glare at him.

"I presume you know what this is about?" she asked stonily.

"No. No, Mrs Barrett, I'm sorry, I don't."

"You don't?" she repeated with a slight sneer. She threw the folder onto her desk. It startled him.

"I've had complaints."

"Complaints, Mrs Barrett?"

"Yes. From several people. Still no idea?"

"No. Sorry. Not the faintest idea."

"Not even if I said that all those who complained were females?"

"No, Mrs Barrett."

"And if I used the phrase 'sexual harrassment'. Ring any bells?"

She picked up the folder. He knew the pages were blank but she skimmed her eyes over them as if they weren't. His uncertainty of where it was heading made it seem more realistic to him.

"Let me explain, then!" she snapped. "You apparently can't keep your eyes off some of your female colleagues. Their age and marital status doesn't seem to make much difference, either. That's what it's about!"

She crossed her leg. She knew that the desk screened most of her thigh from view -- for now -- but she saw his gaze alight on her slender knee. It was clad in sheer black nylon. She felt a squishy little surge between her thighs. She looked over her glasses at him and raised her eyebrows. Even though it was entirely fabrication, his uncertainty how to reply made it seem almost real.

Thomas felt rather out of his depth, but followed her lead.

"I... er... no, Mrs Barrett, that isn't true. I... I respect my colleagues. I... I wouldn't embarrass them in that sort of way. And I don't even THINK of them in that sort of way..." He made his voice sound a little pathetic.

"That's not what seven ladies say. SEVEN. Especially the younger ones, but the older ones say the same, too. And I'm inclined to believe them..." she snapped, still looking over the top of her glasses.

"I..." he faltered.

"Well, we can soon put it to the test, Thomas," she retorted.

He watched her push her chair back from her desk. She was wearing a short, navy blue skirt. He could not help staring at her crossed leg and thigh. He could just make out the top of one stocking. It looked deliciously lacy, and seemed to beckon to him. He looked into her face. She raised her neat, plucked eyebrows and nodded knowingly. 

He averted his gaze, but found it drawn back again. He glanced at her breasts under her white satin blouse. The silky fabric moved lusciously with the rise and fall of her bra-less breasts under it, and he could discern the faint outline of her nipples. He felt a twinge in his groin. Between the buttons of her blouse he could see the pale skin of her stomach and of the tops of her orbs.

"You see -- you really can't help yourself, can you?" She raised her voice, but her excitement made it sound rather shrill. "Even as I'm tackling you about your... your lechery... you're damn' well eyeing me up, you pervert!"

"I... I... I'm sorry, Mrs Barrett. I... I don't know what else to say.

She got up from her chair. His eyes locked onto her short skirt hem. It was slightly flared and it moved sensually as she walked around her desk. Although her breasts were a modest B-cup, they also swayed enticingly under her blouse, and he was sure that her nipples were now rather more prominent. He gazed at her stiletto shoes. They were bright red, and the heels must have been nearly two inches tall. 

Diana avoided looking at him. She was not used to wearing such high heels and needed to concentrate on keeping her balance. She felt very desirable to be dressed in a way that was provocative without being too overt, though she knew that her age made her attire seem somewhat over the top. But to feel his hungry gaze sweeping over her excited her immensely.

She sat on the edge of her desk, facing him closely, and crossed her leg. She made sure she crossed it wide, and immediately she saw his eye go to her skirt hem. The flaring of her skirt made it hang away from her thighs, exposing even more than the short hem itself did. 

She heard him give a low gasp and she followed his eyes down to her crossed thigh. As she had hoped she was showing not only the top of her sheer black stocking but also her suspender. She had bought a new suspender belt and suspender belt that week. They were bright red. 

She had intended to buy black to go with her stockings but decided that the red was more racy and would also contrast nicely with her black stockings. Scarlet stockings for the scarlet lady, she had thought as she handed them over at the till. The assistant's face had registered surprise at her purchase, given her age. Diana had felt very embarrassed but excited, too. A twinge of shame swept over her, and as she reminded herself that she was getting a secret, mental revenge on her husband, a slight surge of anger at being betrayed shook her, too. It was a familiar mixture of feelings by now, but one that still had a powerful effect on her -- and aroused her.

"Let me say something then, if you don't know what to say," she said. "You like looking at ladies. Openly. Shamelessly. You've had complaints about you. You're in deep shit!" she added curtly.

He blushed, even though it was all just an act. His longing gaze flitted up and down her black-stockinged leg, her bare thighs, only part-hidden by her skirt hem, and her red suspender. He ran his eyes back down her slender leg to her ankle. She was flexing her stilettoed foot up and down and twisting it slightly from side to side as if subconsciously. But Thomas found the movement almost mesmerising, and her shiny red shoe was set off well by her black stocking.

"I might be able to help you out, though. I have a lifeline for you to help you keep your job," she continued, more gently. Her sudden change of tone sent a shudder of delight through him.

"Interested, Thomas?"

"Ye-yes, Mrs Barrett."

"You like looking at women's tits. If I showed you mine -- would that help you keep your eyes off other women's? Hmmm?"

"I... I don't know. Probably."

He felt hot as he watched her run her hand up and down between her breasts through her blouse. His gaze followed its movements. They were subtle but suggestive. Then she unfastened three buttons, but held the blouse in place to keep her breasts covered.

"Perhaps this will help you decide..."

Slowly she peeled the white satin open. He had seen her breasts before, of course, but the role-play and her slow tease made it seem like the first time that he had done so. He stared at her orbs, semi-firm with just enough sag to advertise that she was indeed a MILF, a mature woman, an experienced woman -- and, he remembered with a twinge of guilt -- a married woman. Her nipples were fairly taut now.

"Well, Thomas. Do you think if I showed you these fairly regularly it would help you keep your eyes off the others and keep out of trouble?"

"Yes, Mrs Barrett. It... it would help. Probably."

She raised her eyebrows again at his hint that more might be required than a view of her breasts. She saw his eyes run over her orbs, her nipples. She saw it rest on her shallow cleft, dart down to her slender stockinged thigh and her suspender, try to see her panties but, unsuccessful -- for now -- return to her breasts again.

"I see. And if I were to lift my skirt for you and show you my panties -- or, I should say, my thong... would that help?"

"M-maybe, Mrs Barrett," he added, becoming a bit bolder now.

"Shall we find out, Thomas?"

He nodded. She slid off the desk and stood to one side of him. Her gorgeous breasts swayed again. He stared as she placed a hand on each flank and, pressing the fabric of her skirt against her outer thighs, slowly -- painfully slowly -- drew it higher, higher...

Thomas struggled to prevent another gasp as it rose. Her legs looked long in her red stilettos, and her thighs were slender and well toned. Then the tops of her sheer stockings -- black, expensive stockings judging by the laciness of their tops -- came into view. Then her bare skin, pale and smooth looking. And her suspenders -- the red suspenders -- clasping her black lacy stockingtops. 

And then, then... he could almost feel his eyes bulge... As her skirt rose still higher, she was indeed wearing a thong. Like her suspenders and her shoes (and her nails and lip gloss) it was bright red. And tiny. It hugged her labia and her slit.

"Well, Thomas?"

He looked up into her face, taking in the slightly excessive makeup and her shiny pink lips. She parted them and ran her tongue over them. It looked very provocative. In his enthralment he had genuinely forgotten the question.

"W-well, what, Mrs Barrett?"

"Well, would it help you to keep your eyes off the other ladies in the office?" she asked, feigning mild exasperation. 

"Yes... yes, Mrs Barrett."

"But my tits are older and not as pert as Rachel's! And they're not as big and bouncy as Sandra's, either. My thighs aren't as strapping as Sandra's either. And my pussy is older. So, I'll ask again, would it help you keep your eyes off theirs if I showed you mine?"

"Yes."

"Why, Thomas?"

"Be-because you're the boss, Mrs Barrett," he replied, keen to enter more into the scenario she was enacting. "And..."

She ran her fingers over her breast, then she took her nipple between her finger and thumb and rubbed it.

"Yes, Thomas?"

"Be-because I find you very sexy, Mrs Barrett. I... I find myself looking at you more than any of the others, in fact..."

Diana felt a flush of delight and another moist surge between her legs.

"I see. And why exactly is that?" For effect, she tried to sound austere but her voice wavered now, betraying her arousal. 

"I... I like your... er... your build. You're... you're slim but curvy in a... er... natural, subtle way. I... I really like your er... your tits. I like their shape, and their size is in proportion to your slim build..." he replied.

He was genuinely a bit shy about being so outspoken and was eager not to go beyond the ground rules she had laid down at the outset about no strings, no personal embroilment or hint of romantic association. But he heard the little catch in her breath. His stomach gave a little churn of excitement and he felt his erection begin to harden.

His mind, like his eyes, was in overdrive, hardly knowing which part of her to look at. He glanced into her eager face, the reading glasses still perched on her nose and her eyes looking over the top of them, her cheeks blushed with makeup and her eyelashes emphasised by her mascara, her lips full and deep pink and very glossy. He examined the loose folds of her white satin blouse and her naked breast, watching them rise and fall, tipped by her pale pink nipples. 

He ran his eyes once more up and down her slender legs, from her red-shod stilettoed feet right up her calves and to her narrow knees. His gaze flickered over her sumptuous thighs, the lacy band of her stockingtops separating the sheer black nylon and her pale skin. He stared at her red suspenders and thong, standing out so prominently and seductively against her skin and stockings.

"I see, Thomas. Anything else?"

"Yes. Yes, Mrs Barrett. I like you because you're older, more experienced, and because you're..."

"Your boss, Thomas?" she prompted.

"Yes. And because... because you're m-married, Mrs Barrett."

"I see. So I suppose you'd like to shag me? I suppose that figures in your thinking, does it, Thomas?"

Although she had spoken like this before (and usually with similar outmoded terms), it felt very erotic in the context of this role-play, a frustrated female boss seeking to seduce a wayward worker and finding him fully compliant.

"Yes. I... I don't suppose I will ever get the chance, Mrs Barrett. But, yes, I'd love to shag you. More than any of the other women who work here I'd like to... to FUCK you, Mrs Barrett..."

"I see. And if... IF I allowed you to do that, Thomas..." again her hand traced over her bared breast, stroking it gently. The sight of her red-painted nails and of her wedding ring against her pale orb nearly drove him crazy.

"If I allowed you to do that... would you reserve your eyes and... and your lust for me?" Her tone now was almost pleading.

"Yes," he replied immediately, his voice husky with desire.

"And your willy... your young, eager prick... you'd keep that for me alone?"

"Yes."

She sighed at the strength of his lust for her, evidenced by the conviction in his voice and his eager stare.




Diana's Self-Liberation Ch. 06



She stepped closer to him and raised her leg, resting her foot on his chair between his thighs. She saw his gaze fix on her knee and on her thigh, just inches from his face. A bead of perspiration adorned his brow.

"Well, Thomas, perhaps... PERHAPS... we could make a deal..."

She took his hand in hers and drew it over the top of her shoe and up and down its high heel, then over the top of her stockinged foot and up and down the outside of her leg. He groaned. The nylon of her stockings was smooth and warm, and her leg was firm to his touch.

"I AM indeed married, Thomas. But my husband has lost interest in me. I haven't been shagged in months. And here you are saying you'd be willing to do that very thing!"

To his delight she led his hand to her narrow knee. He caressed and stroked it through her soft, smooth stocking. He looked at her bright red nails and at her wedding ring once more.

"And as for you... you're in deep shit facing complaints from seven of your colleagues. I want sex but I am your boss. I'm offering you a lifeline. Screw me, your boss, and keep your eyes off your colleagues and you keep your job. But if you screw me, you treat me with respect. Disrespect me and you lose your job. Tell anyone else about having sex with me and I'll accuse you of sexual harassment and assault. You'll be out of here and get a crap reference for any other job -- possibly enhanced by a police caution. Deal?"

"Yes. Yes, Mrs Barrett."

"Sometimes I may choose to play the slut and urge you to do this or that to me. Sometimes I will be more strict and allow you to do one thing but not another. It will depend on my wishes -- and you will not overstep the mark or go beyond my boundaries. Do we still have a deal?"

He nodded vigorously. She reached down and tipped his head back a little, forcing him to look into her eyes over her glasses.

"Answer me! Hmmm?"

"Oh, yes, Mrs Barrett. We have a deal."

She stooped and kissed him deeply, urgently. He found her suspender and caressed it, the symbol of her provocativeness, He slid his hand to the back of her leg that was before him and stroked and fondled the back of her knee, her stockingtop, and the soft warm skin above it.

She took his other hand and led it to her breast.

"Squeeze Mrs Barrett's titty, then! You say you've been wanting to! Harder, yes, like thatttt!" she urged.

She gazed at his hand groping and mauling her orb, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough nevertheless to be un-tender, ardent, urgent, 

She straightened and pulled his head to her breasts. Her blouse had slid back partly across them and he nuzzled the warm silky satin.

"Kiss those tits! Kiss and suck your boss's mature, married tits for her!" she hissed, and gasped she felt his mouth sweeping across her tender flesh, tugging her nipples and drawing in a mouthful of breast to suck greedily and noisily.

"I give you permission to fondle my fanny through my thong -- but only THROUGH it..." she murmured.

Her mound bulged against the warm, flimsy fabric, and with a twinge of delight he found that her thong was damp. He resisted the urge to tug it aside, taking her lead, and following the role-play. She gasped again as he teased her puffy lips and ran the edge of his finger up and down her slit through her thong. He looked down at the gentle pumping movement of her shoed foot on his erection.

"Oh yesss!" she panted. "Now slide your fingers inside that slutty little thong and show Mrs Barrett what you can do. Don't be shy! Your boss is giving you permission!" she crooned.

Thomas stared at the red thong. He could see her labia and slit pressing against it. He dragged it aside and stared at the spellbinding sight. He stroked her shaved, pouting lips and rubbed them from side to side and in little circular motions, then he found her hard button and teased it with his fingertip.

"Stick a finger up my pussy, Thomas!" she urged, cradling his head to her breasts. He resumed sucking on them, savouring the feel of her fingers caressing his scalp. She shifted her position slightly and, digging her heel harder against the chair, rested the ball of her foot on his groin and pressed gently on it. He groaned. She felt a thrill of satisfaction.

She stepped away from him and removed her foot from his chair. Her skirt slid back into place, hiding her thong and her stockingtops, but still revealing an alluring amount of slender, black-stocking-clad thigh.

"Now show your boss your willy!" she commanded. Of all her quaint terms he found this the quaintest, and smiled as he stood up and unfastened his trousers. He pushed them part way down his thighs, and did the same with his boxers. His erection jutted out at about forty-five degrees, as if pointing in salute to her.

"Hmmm. Very nice. Quite long. And rather thick. And his mouth is watering..." she commented, looking down at his tip, coated with a thin film of pre-cum. "Now sit down again."

"Can.. can I..."

She made herself frown.

"No. You may do as your boss tells you, THAT'S what you may do for now. And I seem to think I told you to sit down," she added, trying to sound terse, though she was feeling weak at the knees and light headed.

Thomas sank back into his chair. He hoped she wouldn't be too domineering, but he let it go unchallenged for now. Then to his surprise she walked away from him and returned to her desk. The flicking of her skirt against the backs of her lean thighs grabbed his gaze again. His eyes followed the deliberate steps of her high, red stilettos. He glanced, too at the sensual movement of the back of her white blouse, still unbuttoned and hanging over the top of her skirt, alternately shimmering and shadowed as she walked.

She stood facing him behind the desk. Her satin blouse slid open curtain-like, but the view they gave was better than any curtain normally revealed. She looked at her watch and gave a slight grimace. Then she slid her blouse off her shoulders and he watched it glide down her slender arms. She tossed it over the back of her chair.

Then she hiked up her navy blue skirt, showing her black stockings and red suspenders.

From behind a couple of thick files she retrieved the condom she had placed there. She tossed it onto the desk and watched his expression, tense with anticipation as he saw what she had thrown.

Then she bent low over the desk and braced herself against it. He heart was pounding with relish at her slutty teasing, the role-play she was acting out, and her young lover's eager hunger for her.

Then, looking over her glasses and gazing into his young face, she raised her knee and rested it on the desk. She did the same -- slowly, to tease him and keep him guessing -- with her other knee, so that she was on all fours on the desk facing him. She pushed aside the telephone handset. And although the desk was not particularly wide, she thrilled that it was just wide enough to allow her to take a couple of crawling steps towards Thomas, who was still seated in the other office chair facing her. 

She saw his eyes dilate with anticipation. She placed her hands on the arm of his chair and he stared at her face as it sank down to kiss his glistening tip. She chewed on it with her lips then she slowly sank her head, taking in his length. He felt her sucking on him, and watched her head bobbing rudely up and down. She slid one finger under his scrotum and rubbed one of his balls.

He cupped her breasts and leaned forward to tug her skirt up around her waist, gazing eagerly on her well pale, firm and nicely rounded bum cheeks. He caressed them and swept his hand up and down her bare, narrow back as she continued to suck and lick his erection. With his other hand he kneaded her breasts and tweaked her nipples.

She looked up into his face but her hand cupped his balls and squeezed them gently and rhythmically. She removed her glasses and placed them on the desk. Her big, brushed-back hair set her face off nicely.

"Your boss can be quite a slut sometimes, Thomas. I think you and I will have some fun, dirty times together. Just keep your eyes off the others and picture your boss kneeling over her desk sucking your hard young prick instead, hmmm?"

"Yes, Mrs Barrett," he groaned as she took his length in her mouth again. The rude sound was almost as arousing as the sensation, and he did not know how much longer he could last. Then she straightened up.

"I'm afraid we can't go all the way in here, Thomas. The cleaner will be round soon..." she shook her head in response to his concerned expression, indicating that this was not really the case.

"No, if we're going to fuck we'll have to go somewhere else..." she added, then after a short pause, "Ah, I know just the place!" 

She slid onto the floor and stood up. He stood up, too, and pulled his trousers and boxers back up. She picked up the condom, unwrapped it, and pressed it into his right hand. Then she reached down and clasped her hand around his throbbing erection. He looked down at her red-painted nails and at her wedding ring. Still holding him there she guided him out of the office and along the corridor. She gently squeezed his hardness as they passed a few other doors -- he was too excited to count them. She paused outside another one. 

It had a symbol on it. An outline of a man.

She giggled as the realisation broke on his face, and led him inside the gents' toilet. Her high heels clicked loudly on the floor, the sound amplified by the tiled walls. She glanced round, taking in the surroundings. Her nose wrinkled at the faint smell of stale urine, largely though not entirely masked by the blue chemical blocks in the urinals. She grinned at the seediness of her chosen venue. She stepped backwards and, tugged her skirt lewdly up to her waist.

"Get it out and get ready to fuck your wet willing boss, Thomas," she said softly. He continued to stare at her, fumbling with his trousers and boxers, as she dragged her thong down. She tossed it into one of the two washbasins. They were old-fashioned basins, supported by cast iron frames that were fixed to the floor.

She wriggled a little and eased herself so that she was sitting on one of the washbasins with her legs dangling down. She parted her slender thighs and he stared at his pink, inviting prize.

"Fuck me, Thomas. Fuck your nasty slut-boss, you office lecher! Give her the seeing-to she needs, and make her come!"

Thomas eased on the condom as she had taught him, making sure it fit snugly. He needed no more encouragement from her now. He entered her and immediately began to thrust hard and deep. She braced herself on the cold white china and locked her legs around his waist, clasping him tight. To her delight he began to knead her bum cheeks as he drove ever deeper, ever harder, ever faster. With her hands braced on the washbasin she thrust herself against him.

The seediness of doing it in the gents' toilet fuelled her arousal, and as Thomas ground into her she noticed again the faint but unmistakable smell of stale urine. 

"Yes, Thomas! That's it! Fuck your bitch-boss. Yesss! Ohh yesss!"

Thomas blushed but she quite often liked him to call her names while having sex. It turned him on and made him feel bad at the same time, as he respected her and was fond of her. 

But as he nuzzled her neck and looked down at the obscene sight of his manhood as it thrust in and out of her, he plucked up the courage again. Her eyes followed his to watch the rude in-and-out thrusts. 

"Are you watching it go in and out of your boss's fanny, Thomas? Hmmm? It looks so rude, and it feels so good! Do it! Come in your boss's slutty pussy!" she urged. 

"Like that, Mrs B, you naughty slut? Yeah? You... you might be the boss but you're really quite a slag aren't you, huh?" he grunted in her ear. She gave a little gasp.

"Yes I am a slag. Shoot it, Thomas! Shoot your load in your bitch-boss's fanny..."

He increased his pace and force, and they came quickly and almost simultaneously.

They remained like that for a few more moments, savouring each other's bodies and caressing and kissing each other. Then, chuckling and blushing with shock, Thomas went into the cubicle and brought back some toilet tissue. They cleaned up and Diana pulled her skirt back into place. But not her thong.

She picked it up and opened the toilet window. Although she was wearing stilettos she had to stand on tiptoe to see out of the narrow transom. To his shock she screwed her thong into a ball and tossed it out of the window. She did the same with the soiled condom. He realised that the toilet window was on the same side of the building as the window of the office where she worked, and that within a short distance of each other in the courtyard outside there were now two soiled condoms and a red thong.

Diana removed her makeup. Then, between them they checked -- twice -- that nothing was out of place that would betray their activities. Diana insisted that Thomas must head off into town and not return home for at least an hour. She had suggested he go to buy a pizza and eat it in the dining area there. His delay would also add credibility to the story he had told his parents about going to a works leaving do. 

After he had gone she made a further two checks that everything was in its rightful place and that nothing untoward had been left behind. She had even written a chcklist in advance. Last of all she placed the mini cassette recorder in her bag with her secret recording of Thomas and her in the boss's office. She spent a little while removing her nail varnish. 

As she set the intruder alarm and left the building, Diana felt a surge of squishy delight. Going into her boss's office and sitting facing the desk over which she had been taken would never be the same again. And from now on every time she walked past the gents' toilet it would be a reminder of her wanton behaviour.

She headed home, not much later than she normally did after working overtime, and well in advance of Thomas.

_________________________

Diana deliberately arrived a little later for work than normal the next day. The back door to the office had already been unlocked by a colleague, and she stepped inside. There were giggles and whispers in the kitchen, and she went in to make a cup of coffee. She could not have hoped for better timing.

"I mean -- not ONE condom, but TWO!" Rachel, a twenty-eight year old, cackled. "I mean -- is that rough, or what? I mean -- did she have sex with two blokes at the same time, or did she come behind the building twice to do it?" Another cackle of laughter broke out.

Diana smiled politely and enquired what the conversation was about. Sandra, the busty thirty-seven year old chipped in.

"Some slag left a few momentos behind last night. Right by the path from the pavement through the courtyard to the back door, too! She must have had sex behind the bushes opposite this window, where they wouldn't be seen from the pavement. Not just one condom, either! One was right by the path, and just a yard or two away there was another -- and a discarded thong! A right tarty tiny red number it was, too! I mean -- bloody hell! What a slag!"

Diana feigned shock as she made her drink. Then she grinned.

"It was me actually, Sandra," she said innocently. She was greeted by a stunned expression for a moment.

"Yes, I was bored and frustrated after finishing the reports last night. On my way to the car I saw a couple of young blokes and lured them here!"

Sandra laughed out loud and in the process accidentally spat some coffee onto the floor. Rachel burst out laughing, too.

"Good one, Diana, good one!" Rachel said. "'It was me, actually'!" she repeated, and laughed again at Diana's jovial, preposterous statement.

And all three of them laughed at the "joke", at the very outrageous and beyond-belief idea of Diana, of all people, acting in any sort of slutty way. Conservative Diana, respectable, dutiful wife Diana, the staid Diana who never even let her hair down at the office parties. It was indeed a surreal joke. Never in a million years would Diana engage in casual sex! 

"If you only knew!" Diana thought with relish. "Not outside but right here in this building! Once over the boss's desk and once in the gents' loo!" 

And as well as making her smile, it made her feel good to have a sordid secret. It was a secret unguessed even when she had hinted at it, a secret from her cheating husband, her colleagues, her family and even from her closest friends, a secret known only to herself and her naive young lover.

She knew how she was regarded, and the contrast between the prim and proper, conservative dutiful wife with the reality was delicious. She had set her sights on a twenty year old virgin neighbour, not for romance but for sex. She had seduced him and was engaging in regular sex with him behind her own house curtains after her husband head left for work or in a motel room hired for the purpose. And now she had done so in her workplace. Twice. Once over her boss's desk and once perched on a washbasin in the men's toilets. 

Some days she arrived at work within half an hour of having sex. Other days she was clock-watching as the hours ticked away until her after-work rendezvous. And some colleagues almost pitied her for her quiet, staid lifestyle! 

Moreover she had even recorded on tape two of her sexual encounters, and would listen to them from time to time when pleasuring herself. They reduced the need for imagination. She chuckled again to herself. It was almost unbearably squishy.