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Wendy Ch. 01

By: Fable



This conversation and the ensuing adventure took place nearly a half century ago, when ‘a penny for your thoughts’ was a bargain worth consideration and when American made automobiles gathered at drive-ins where a tray of food was hung on the driver’s door and at drive-ins where cars faced a giant screen in case someone actually wanted to watch the movie. 

“She kept me waiting!” I blurted out. Then catching myself, I lowered my voice an octave and said through clenched teeth, “she kept be waiting forty-one minutes.”

There was an awkward silence from the other end of the phone line then a snicker, her voice showing amusement at my consternation. 

“How do you know it was forty-one minutes?” Marcie inquired, mimicking my adolescent tone. 

Even at two hundred miles away I knew she was standing, not sitting. I pictured the half smirk on her full lips and the glint in her eyes. The slight roll of her shoulders, caused by the too tight bra which labored to support her full breasts, heavy with mother’s milk.

“You’re standing up.” I countered, avoiding her question. 

“You are too.” she said, catching on to the game.

In those days, even long distance calls from 200 miles away were expensive.

Since the bill was being paid from company funds it was my responsibility to keep it as low as possible; I wanted to get our weekly telephone conversation over with quickly. 

Instead of our usual chat which often consisted of ‘Who died this week?’ ‘How many orders did we get?’ ‘Who is in the hospital and expected not to live?’ ‘Were any new engagements announced?’ ‘Anything that would help generate the flower business?’ Marcie spoke about what she seemed to want to focus on; my visit to the lawyer’s office. 

“Firstly,” I began. “I thought I was to see Mr. Banger, that’s who...”

“Blanger.” She corrected me in mid sentence.

“Whoever... that’s who you said to make the appointment with. When I got to the office, ten minutes early I might add. That girl...”

“The receptionist....Sally.” Marcie put in again.

“Yea, Sally. She said I would be seeing Miss Jeffries so I said Okay and took a seat.”

“She’s new there. Her father and Kenny Blanger went to school together, she comes from a good family so be nice to her,” Marcie interrupted.

“She made me wait,” I countered. “I had to get to class so I got fidgety. After thirty minutes the girl, ah...Sally. She noticed that I was still there and asked if I wanted a cup of coffee or something. I said no but that I needed to get going.”

“Honey, I wish you were not so impatient, you’ll send the wrong impression to the Blangers. We’ve been friends with them a long time,” Marcie scolded. 

I knew of her family’s connections with influential people in our little town, she never let me forget how important relationships can be in business. I did not respond.

“What’s her name?” Marcie broke the silence.

“Tiny!”

“Cotton!!” a near shriek, hushed because the baby was probably asleep. But a shriek just the same.

“She’s a big girl,” I laughed. “She did not stand but I think she is about a quarter of an inch taller than I and must outweigh me by a ton. I don’t know what her first name is, though she did say.”

“Cotton!” Marcie was pacing now, I could tell. I loved to get her pacing.

“There were folders everywhere, all over the desk; I think she had some in her lap. Probably why she didn’t stand, she sort of leaned forward and shook my hand. I’ll swear, Marcie. It was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen”.

“I’m glad you found it amusing.” Marcie was calmer but clearly frustrated, probably fearing that somehow I would upset her standing in the community. “Is she going to do the contract?”

“I guess so, I explained what we are thinking of, I even gave her the list”.

“The list, you say?”

“Yeah, notes from what needs to go in the contract.”

“Sounds good, what was she wearing?” Marcie’s tone was lighter.

“You won’t believe it,” I exclaimed. Then, for fear of sending her into another triad I softened. “A suit, coat was all I saw, navy blue; and a blouse with wide pointed collars stretching almost to her shoulders and pearls to match.”

“You Noticed!” Marcie chided. “I think you like her. Besides, what’s so extraordinary about wide collars? If you paid more attention you would know they are in fashion.”

“Marcie, the blouse was lavender and did you hear me? I said the pearls matched. I have a stinking suspicion that her shoes matched too!”

“Oh,” she said.

On Friday afternoon I was the only one in the shop, taking stock of what needed to be ordered. I was getting ready to close for the day when the telephone rang.

“Hi, this is Wendy”.

“Wendy?” I questioned. Then; recognizing the voice, “Oh, hi Miss Jeffries?”

“Mr. Fabrik,” she said tentatively. “You were in my office the other day, about the contract?”

“Sure. I mean, yes...yes, I was”, I answered, wondering where this was leading to.

“I know you are busy during the day and so am I for that matter, but a question arose regarding the contract and I was wondering if we could meet for a few minutes.”

There was a short pause, I was trying to digest what she was getting at.

“Say about 7:30? I live at the Windsor Apartments. Do you know where they are?”

Friday nights are my wind down time. After a week of classes and keeping up with the operation of the flower shop, I’m usually exhausted and need some time to recover.

“Sure,” I said. Meaning I knew where the Windsor is located.

“Fine, see you then.” The line went dead.

The apartment complex was new and comprised of two story brick buildings, gardens clustered around them and a swimming pool. 

Young working couples and older singles lived there. It was exactly six blocks from the bungalow where I lived next to the flower shop. I chose to walk. Wendy of the Windsor, I thought; Whimsy Wendy.

Packed, absolutely packed. That was the only way to describe her white pants, the legs cut off about half way between her knees and ankles. 

The top was also white; loose fitting and frilly, tucked in at the waist. She wore pearls to match. Her amber hair had the hint of a curl where it met her shoulders and short bangs partially covered the freckles that dotted her forehead. 

I held my breath as the pants stretched even more when her rump hit the love seat. She motioned for me to take the chair at the end of the coffee table. 

Laid out on the table was an open bottle of wine and two glasses. A sheet of white paper was placed next to one of the long stemmed vessels.

“I thought we would have a glass of wine and discuss your needs. I hope Chardonnay is okay with you?” she asked, starting to pour the wine. When I didn’t respond, she glanced my way.

“I hope you’re not too young to have a glass of wine?” A smile crept across her face as it turned slightly pink; about the same shade as her lips.

“No, No. That’s fine.” I said, not admitting I did not know a Chardonnay from a lamp post. I knew wine came from California or France and was either red or white. Otherwise, my only experience with it was a glass someone handed to me at Marcie and Tads’ wedding two years before.

She set my wine down and handed me the paper. “I had your notes cleaned up; they look so much better typed. Don’t you think?”

The paper contained points that needed to be included in the contract I intended to enter with a supplier of plants and flowers for delivery the following spring. 

The grower was new to us; I had only met one of the partners, a lady who had stopped by the shop during the summer. 

She and her husband wanted to expand their greenhouse operation and sought new business in our area. 

Under the circumstances; I felt a contract to spell out such things as the condition of the plants at delivery, endurance to our weather conditions and availability of an additional order if sales went well needed to be included. 

Glancing at the typed paper I wondered if this was the right approach. I had spotted two typing errors.

“Much better,” I agreed; smiling at Miss Jeffries as I took my first sip of wine.

She looked pleased. A new shade of pink flooded her cheeks. “Oh, I forgot the cheese!” she exclaimed, jumping and sprinting to the small kitchen, butt giggling like two mellons fighting one another for space in a sack.

I wondered what questions she would raise regarding the contract but the subject was not raised again. We ate small chunks of cheese cradled on toothpicks and talked about her new home in my home town; the activities offered, the weather, and the law office where she worked and drank chardonnay. 

“Call me Wendy.” She ordered as she poured a second glass of wine for us both. “My goodness we’re just talking, you’re such a help, it’s not easy to get settled in where you are a stranger, you know how it is.” 

She leaned back on the two-seater, glass in hand. She propped her feet on the coffee table. She was wearing white slip ons with no socks. That I thought, is why we were at eye level when I came in.

“I haven’t had to do that,” I admitted.

“Never moved? Always lived here?” She gave me a concerned, ‘you poor thing’ look. I nodded.

“Do you have a girl friend?” she smiled, teasingly.

“No,” I answered. I was considering if I should pick up the second glass of wine or make an excuse and leave but she persisted.

“No? You mean don’t have a girl friend now?”

“Never have.” I stared back at her, noticing her eyes for the first time. They were greenish and she had a squint.

I decided to modify my answer. “I haven’t had a girlfriend, a girlfriend is the same age or younger than the guy. I’ve had ‘lady’ friends in the past but not now. I guess you could say I’m between lady friends.”

This amused her and we both laughed. Without thinking, I took a sip of wine.

“How about you, do you have a boyfriend?” 

She was silent.

“Or boy friends?” I was teasing now.

She was slow to respond. At first she spoke softly, “Not at present.” Then she perked up, “I’m between ‘gentlemen’ friends.” We both howled at that.

“Did they seduce you or did you seduce them?”

“What do you mean?”

I knew the meaning of seduce but was trying to understand how she expected me to answer her question.

“I mean,” she placed her feet on the floor, poured herself another glass of wine. She checked mine before replacing her feet on the coffee table. “Did these ‘lady’ friends make the first move or did you?”

I stalled, leaned back in my chair, took another sip of wine and looked in her direction.

Wendy was leaning forward; as much as her straight legs and tight waist band would allow, anticipating my answer.

“The first one did I guess; make the first move I mean.” I answered, thinking better of it as soon as it was out of my mouth. My wine glass was almost drained but I reached for it anyway.

“Tell me about it.” Wendy was glowing with excitement, “Tell me!”

Now I was the one with pink cheeks. This was something I had never done before. I was taught at an early age that you don’t fuck and tell. Stories get distorted when retold; it screws things up. Wendy must have guessed why I was hesitating.

“Don’t worry, I don’t know anyone here. Change the names if it makes you feel better,” she assured me.

“You know people here,” I countered; still stalling.

“Just the people at the office.” She thought for a second, “Wait a minute, it wasn’t one of the Blanger women was it?” She gave me a mischievous look and we both laughed.

I decided that I liked her so I began. I told her about Ellen, Marcie’s friend from college coming to visit Christmas week three years before. 

It was clear that Marcie was not happy to have our guest. She explained that we only had two bedrooms but Ellen could sleep on the couch which Ellen happily accepted.

To Marcie, Ellen must have been a distraction we did not need, especially with our busy seasonal business and Tad in town.

Ellen flirted with me from the moment she arrived. Marcie found us together in the greenhouse and chased Ellen out, saying she had something for her to do up front. 

By the end of the first day Ellen decided I should have a nickname; Cotton, which Marcie abhorred.

“I get it, Cotton Fabrik, clever. You mean Marcie was jealous or just a fuddy duddy?” Wendy interrupted.

“She was and is the latter.”

“So you and Marcie never....you know?” She gave me a curious look.

“Are you kidding? Never! She’s always been like an older sister to me.” I said emphatically. 

I resumed my story. I recalled how Ellen decided I needed to learn to dance and offered to teach me. I think Marcie took her aside to lay down some ground rules.

I also think Marcie considered staying in that night but when Tad called we heard her say eight o’clock. Ellen gave me a wink

“So!” Wendy laughed, “You and Ellen, huh? What did she look like? How was she dressed? Don’t leave anything out.”

“We were both wearing flannel shirts and jeans, fairly drab I suppose and Ellen was not what I would call pretty but boy! She was stacked and when we danced; she was as soft and hard at the same time.”

The minute Marcie was out the door; Ellen selected some records and started the player. 

She motioned to me with her forefinger; taunting and smiling until I followed her to the center of the room. It was cramped and we were in front of the couch where she was to make her bed.

Ellen showed me how to stand; where to grab onto and then we moved to the music slowly, until I stepped on her toe. She took off her shoes and made me do the same. 

By the second song we were dancing close; her face was pressed against mine. Her hair was soft and pleasantly scented. She whispered instructions as we moved. I tried to back off because I feared she would notice the little broom stick between us.”

Wendy snickered.

“Ellen tightened her grip on my shoulder and squeezed my hand saying, ‘It’s okay.’

By the third song I had loosened up; actually feeling the beat of the music. Then she kissed me on the lips.”

Wendy sat up, eyes glowing. She did not interrupt this time.

“You may as well have had a lesson in kissing,” Ellen whispered. 

I kissed her.

“The music stopped playing; neither of us moved to turn the records over. We still moved, swaying to the silence, kissing. 

Ellen was a good teacher and I was a good pupil.”

I sat my empty wine glass on the table. Wendy watched me, expectantly as if to say, ‘then what?’

“The next thing I knew we were on the couch; me on top. Ellen pulled a blanket over us because it was getting chilly in the room. Ellen found my hand and guided it to her breast. I was petrified; my hand couldn’t move but Ellen did. She was unbuttoning her shirt. She eased my hand inside her bra and I felt bare skin.

Ellen was moaning, approvingly. I was hard as a rock and uncomfortable as hell. We were really getting in to it; moving together, hotter that corn about to pop when the front door opened and the hall light switched on.” 

“What!” Wendy jumped out of her seat. “What! She stammered, “What did you do?”

“Nothing,” I laughed, “We just froze, Marcie must have gone into her room. I slide off the couch and crawled towards mine. 

I heard Ellen make a snoring sound, she sort of over did it. We both slept in our clothes that night.

The next morning my shoes were under my bed, Ellen must have moved them during the night.”

“Wheee,” Wendy was fanning her face, “Whee, what a close call!” She had a look of exhilaration on her face. 

I stood up and moved over on the love seat, putting my left arm around her shoulder. She scrunched down a bit, laying her head back on my arm. She looked contented, all aglow. 

I moved my head in and brushed my lips to hers. She stiffened.

“Hey!, You’re getting FRISKY,” She yelled.

Instead of six blocks, my walk home turned in to twelve, I kept making a wrong turn talking to myself, “You’re getting FRISKY, You’re getting FRISKY,” I repeated, over and over.


{Thanks to Angel -the volunteer who made this possible}

Wendy Ch. 01



Chapter One: The Purchase

Wendy was the oldest of thirteen children. Her relatives were all members of one of those strange polygamist sects that still pop up in Utah from time to time, claiming to be Mormons. (They're not, strictly speaking...but don't tell them that, or you may find yourself staring down the wrong end of a shotgun.) Anyway, with three wives and thirteen children to support, you can imagine that Brother Malachi, Wendy's father, was pretty much chronically short of cash. And so, ordinarily, Wendy would have been married off at age fourteen or fifteen to whichever fellow cultist was willing to pay the highest "bride price" for her. In fact, she later told me stories of girls as young as twelve being married to their own uncles or cousins... you wouldn't believe the things that go on in these weird religions. It's disgusting, to my mind. 

However, Wendy got lucky. She was the only girl in the first six kids or so, and so her father kept her on for a while, to help his wives with all the boy children, because of course he didn't expect his sons to do "women's work." And I guess, he was more liberal than most, because he let her finish high school. She was home-schooled, of course, but she had more education than you might have expected, in addition to being a good cook, an expert housekeeper, and very experienced at sewing and tending babies. She didn't know anything about science, because evolution was "Satan's Doctrine." But she could read and write, manage a household budget, and she could recite the Bible and the Book of Mormon for days... as I had cause to find out later.

But anyway, when Wendy was nineteen, her luck finally ran out. Her little sister Sariah, at age ten, was old enough to take over Wendy's tasks, and Brother Malachi wanted to take another wife, which required money he didn't have. So it was time for Wendy to find a husband. There weren't many members of Brother Malachi's particular sect of Mormonism in that area, though. And as I said, he was a bit more liberal than most, because he didn't like the idea of marrying his daughter to one of his brothers. So Brother Malachi was forced to look further afield for someone to take Wendy off his hands. 

That's where I come into this story. No, I'm not a member of the same sect. I'm a property developer and occasional dealer in slightly more exotic merchandise as well. I was just passing through the tiny town of Lemuel, Utah, but I ended up stopping at the local convenience store at about the same time that Brother Malachi, his three wives, and Wendy pulled in to gas up their rusty, clanking twenty-year-old van. As I stood in line, I heard Brother Malachi commiserating with the clerk about how they had to take Wendy over a hundred miles, to the next congregation of like-minded souls, in hopes of finding her a husband. 

Of course, my ears perked up at this news. I'm always on the lookout for fresh, unspoiled girls, whom I can personally tutor in what Brother Malachi would have termed "the ways of the world." Utah is generally a prime place to find fresh, unspoiled girls, and it looked like this was my lucky day. So I insinuated myself into the conversation as we stood in line at the convenience store.

"Pardon me, Brother, but I couldn't help overhearing that you had an unmarried daughter on your hands. Now it just so happens that I'm a Mormon myself and I'm looking for a good second wife. Perhaps I can spare you the trouble and expense of your long journey."

I got pretty suspicious looks from Brother Malachi and the clerk, in return. After all, I was wearing a $1,000 suit and driving a BMW convertible. I looked just about as much like a member of his sect as Madonna would have. But I'm a good actor, and I was actually raised as a member of the Mormon faith, so when he started quizzing me, I was able to play along. After I recited the "plot" of the Book of Mormon, and managed to at least paraphrase all thirteen of the Articles of Faith, he reluctantly agreed to let me have a look at Wendy.

"Wendy! Get out the van and come along in here, girl! This Brother wants to have a look-see. Happen we won't have to drive anywhere at all today." Somewhat nervously, Wendy complied. I watched a tiny figure in a long skirt step from the rear of the van and "come along in" the store. 

She stood in front of me, in her baggy, long sleeved dress, with her head modestly lowered. I could see she was about five feet tall, with long honey-blonde hair neatly braided and coiled into a bun at the nape of her neck. Her dress was high-necked, loose fitting as hell, with long sleeves and a floor length skirt, but I could still see her breasts straining the fabric as she clasped her hands behind her back. I estimated she was probably at least a C-cup, and there was no way she was wearing a bra. I couldn't really tell about the rest of her figure, in that awful dress, except that it seemed proportional. But I had to be sure.

"Brother Malachi, would it be possible for me to have a look at her legs? She's lovely and I'm sure you've got her trained to be an obedient wife, but I'm a particular man when it comes to legs." At this, Wendy shot me a terrified glance, and I got a look at turquoise eyes under delicate brows, framed by long, dark brown lashes. She also had a tiny, straight nose with a few freckles scattered across the bridge, and a pert little mouth with a very full upper lip. The lower lip was currently being nervously chewed, and she was pale and tense looking, but despite that, her oval face was one of the prettiest I'd seen. 

"I reckon it might be possible for you to take her around back for a few minutes if one of her Ma's goes with you. But I'm gonna want a token of good faith or somethin'." Grinning, I peeled off five hundred-dollar bills from my wallet and handed them to Brother Malachi. His eyes positively glowed as he called to one of his wives, "Rebecca! Take Wendy around back with this good Brother and let him see a bit more. But don't you let him touch her, or I'll strap you." 

As we walked around behind the convenience store, I gestured for Wendy and Rebecca to precede me. Startled, they did so, and I contemplated the difference between Wendy's tiny figure in the ugly but gently swaying skirt, and the dumpy, slouched woman with a forgettable face and a body that had obviously borne five kids or so, stomping alongside her. I had already resolved to have Wendy...now I could see that in addition to satisfying my taste for innocent virgins, I'd be doing her a favor to take her away from this fate, no matter where she ended up eventually. Finally, we reached the rear of the convenience store. Rebecca glanced warily at me, awaiting instructions, and Wendy stood, eyes staring at the ground, and trembled.

"Wendy, I want you to raise your head and look me in the eye. Good girl. No, don't look away." She was every bit as beautiful as I'd thought, even though she was frightened. As I gave my next command, her face became bright red and the tears in her eyes started to spill down her cheeks. But she obeyed. "All right, Wendy, hold your hands out from your sides a bit. Rebecca, do me the favor of pulling her dress tight so I can see that figure." Wendy had a perfect hourglass shape with a tiny waist. I was guessing 36-24-36 just by looking. I ached to touch, or to at least have her drop that dress off her body so I could look my fill, but I knew if I pissed these people off, I'd have to resort to much more difficult maneuvers to obtain the sweet pussy in front of me.

"All right, Rebecca. Now I'd like you just to raise her skirt to the waist and let me get a look at her legs." 

Wendy began to sob out loud at these words, but Rebecca obeyed even as Wendy cringed. 

"Now, Wendy, hold that skirt yourself and turn around in a full circle." 

I could already see much more than I'd hoped. Wendy wore thin, white cotton briefs, as unexciting as possible. But they were worn out, almost transparent, they were so old. I could see Wendy's light brown pubic hair peeking out at the sides and pushing out the panties. It was obviously very abundant and curly, and quite untamed. It looked soft as silk, and I ached to run my hands though it. By now I was fully erect, painfully so in fact, and I'm sure it must have been obvious to Rebecca as she glanced at me, then yanked the skirt a bit higher and thrust it into Wendy's cringing hands. 

Wendy tentatively turned in a circle as commanded, sobbing silently all the while, which made her breasts heave pleasingly against her cotton dress. She had beautifully firm (although tiny) pear shaped-buttocks, and long, muscular legs covered in a soft blond down. In fact, for her height, her legs were the longest I'd ever seen. She obviously had a very high waist and short torso to make up for those legs, which went on for miles. I couldn't wait to be the one to shave them for the first time.

My mouth was dry with lust, and I could barely speak as I said, "That's enough. Wendy, you can drop your skirt again and go wait by the van." 

Wendy obeyed, and I slipped Rebecca a hundred dollars, saying, "Just between you and I, Sister Rebecca, how much was your husband hoping to get for Wendy?"

Sister Rebecca replied very softly, so I had to strain to hear her. "He wanted a thousand dollars but he wasn't sure he could get it. She's a good girl, pretty, and a virgin of course, but she's so old already, and she's had more school than most. Some men would object to that." 

"Thank you Sister, now you'd better go on back to the van before your husband starts to wonder what we're doing back here." She obeyed, and I rejoined Brother Malachi and the clerk, who cast knowing glances at my bulging crotch. 

"All right, Brother, I'm convinced she'd be just the wife for me. I'm a good man and a faithful husband. As you see, I can provide well for her, and I'm prepared to marry her today. The only question is how much you were wanting for a bride price."

"Well, now, there's one problem. I don't really reckon we can have the wedding for at least a week, owing to our bishop being out of town." 

I silently cursed. This was going to make things more expensive. It was going to take Wendy a long time to work off her "bride price" once I finally got her out of here. I wasn't entirely regretful about that, though, on further reflection. "I understand. Let me make you an offer. I'll give you two thousand dollars if you'll let me take her with me tonight. I live in Wisconsin and I'll have our bishop perform the ceremony the second we get home. In fact, I'll call him right now and tell him to expect us day after tomorrow." 

I whipped out my cell phone and watched greed war with anxiety for his daughter on Brother Malachi's face. I was surprised when anxiety won out. "I don't think so, Brother. You're an honest man, but Satan's temptation is a powerful thing, and I won't see my daughter condemned to the outer darkness because her husband couldn't temper his passions until after he stood before the bishop."

"I understand, Brother Malachi, and I can see you've been a good and faithful steward to your family. However when I came out here looking for a bride, I expected this might be the situation, and I'd like to propose an alternative." I stepped over to the trunk of the BMW and removed a small metal object. "This is a chastity belt. As you can see, it has openings for the necessary functions, but it's designed to keep a woman's virtue intact. There's only one key. How about we have Rebecca put this on your daughter, and we'll take the key and mail it to my home right now? It should get there about the same time we do. Will that satisfy?"

"I reckon that's better, but you could stop at a locksmith, or have a second key hidden away, now couldn't you?" 

"Of course I could, but at some point there has to be some faith and trust, especially between fellow men of God. I give you my solemn promise not to harm your daughter in any way, or damage her virtue until we're legally wed. And I'll make that bride price four thousand dollars." 

This time greed won out. Brother Malachi took the chastity belt and instructed Rebecca on what to do. I could see Wendy's shocked face staring at me through the van window as the operation proceeded. Finally, Rebecca exited the van with the key, I dropped it in an envelope, and we mailed it to my "home address" in Wisconsin.

"Here you are as agreed, Brother. Four thousand dollars. May our Father in Heaven bless you and your faithful wives. Now, let's let Wendy say her goodbyes, while we put her belongings in my car." 

There was just room for the one small suitcase among the several black leather cases in my trunk; cases incidentally containing a number of things I couldn't wait to introduce Wendy to. There was the sound of women sobbing behind us. 

"Do you have a phone, Brother? I'll make sure Wendy calls you if you want, and she can come visit once there are grandkids to show off." 

We exchanged phone numbers, Brother Malachi completely unsuspecting that Wendy would not call him, or in fact ever be heard from again. 

I led Wendy away from the sobbing women and seated her in the passenger seat of my BMW, instructing her to fasten her seatbelt. Wendy was no longer crying, but she was pale and she was visibly shaking. Little did she know that what was in store for her was beyond her wildest dreams, or her worst nightmares. I didn't bother to reassure her. She'd learn soon enough. And she sat quite docilely as I drove the BMW out of the convenience store parking lot and down the road to the freeway. She didn't even notice when we turned, not East toward Wisconsin, but West toward Boise, Idaho. I locked the doors with my remote as we drove. She was too frightened to observe that her door had no inside handle or lock. It didn't matter anyway, as she was too meek and mild to even think of escaping during our seven-hour drive "home."  



Wendy Ch. 01



This story is set in England, so the words used are English not American. All characters are over 18.

* 

Hello, my name is Wendy Turner and at the moment I am staying with my Aunt Maude and Uncle Andy while I study for my University degree. I greatly admire and respect both my Uncle and Aunt and fully appreciate how they helped my mother Rose to bring me up in difficult circumstances. My father left my mother when I was quite young and she had a terrible struggle financially to keep us in food and shelter. She did a wonderful job of it and I really appreciate and loved her for all her sacrifices.

She would always tell me what wonderful support she had from my Aunty Maude and Uncle Andy during my growing up years. They lived quite a long way away and yet would always manage to come and visit us about once a month, and bring us presents and food parcels.

I loved sitting on my Aunty's lap as she used to cuddle me and I would bury my face in her woolly cardigan. Her cardy always seems so full and squashy and my mother used to laugh at me as Aunty Maude pulled me into her bosom. We were such a close affectionate family. 

Aunty Maude was my mother's older sister and apart from the presents - I found out later - she would give my mother money to help her with her bills. I frequently saw my mother kissing my Aunty Maude very tenderly in gratitude. 

I remember one day after going for a walk with my Uncle that when we returned we found my Aunty sitting on the settee with her hand on my mothers leg above her stocking top. My mother seemed to have one of her hands inside Aunty Maude's cardigan too. They were both giggling like young girls. 

My Uncle Andrew joked with me that they were closer than sisters and were always tickling each other. It didn't seem to surprise him at all that we could see my Aunt's bra. I don't know why but I almost felt jealous of my mother being cuddled so closely by my Aunt Maude. 

Throughout my teens I knew I had to study, as my Aunt and Uncle used to give my mother money to help my schooling, and thanks to their support I did rather well in my exams and won a place at University. My mother was so proud of me but also saddened when she had to tell me that there was no way could she afford to send me to University. I was heartbroken with disappointment.

Then my Aunty Maude paid us a surprise visit with the wonderful news that she had discussed it with Uncle Andrew and they would provide all the necessary funding.

I was overjoyed and so was my mother but also worried that we still couldn't afford the fees for residency. 

Uncle Andrew smiled "Don't worry Rose. We've talked it through. The University is only a few miles from our house, so Wendy can stay with us. We have a spare room which she can have as a study bedroom, and we can easily arrange transport for her if she needs it."

It was wonderful. All our problems had been solved by my wonderful Aunty and Uncle.

When I was waiting to start the first term in University my mother really drilled it into me that it was important that I behave myself and not cause any problems.

She also explained that my Uncle strongly believed in corporal punishment for any misdemeanour so it was quite possible I could get my bottom spanked by either my Uncle or my Aunt. Although I was now 20, for some reason it didn't sound unusual. In fact my mother told me that Maude had often spanked her as she grew up.

She laughed, "Actually she still does it to me on occasions, if I've been a naughty girl!" 

As she was in her mid forties, I was surprised - and showed it. She simply dismissed it saying "It's not only your Aunty who spanks me, either!" 

I wondered if she as talking about my Uncle but didn't ask her. It seemed strange, but maybe that's the way she liked it.

When my mother was preparing all my clothes for University I had some lovely new smart clothes provided by Aunt Maude, who'd apparently picked them herself. I suppose my mother must have told her my size, but some of the cardigans and twinsets were rather my Aunt's choice and not mine. My mother also put in some of my old short school skirts. When I laughed that they were much too short now, she smiled.

"You have to take care of your nice new University clothes, Wendy. These old school skirts are just for wearing around the house."

I laughed "But they are very short Mum. My knickers will be showing if I bend over!"

She smiled. "I'm sure your Aunt and Uncle won't mind you wearing your short skirts, Wendy. In fact they will probably enjoy seeing little peeks of your panties, too!" 

I smiled back. I knew men liked seeing panties but I didn't realise that Aunt Maude liked it as well.

I remember going to my Aunt's home on the first day. My mother had suggested that I wear my old grey cardigan and pleated black skirt so as to protect my new University clothes. I'd caught the train to their town, where Uncle Andy had picked me up from the railway station - it had been dso nice to see him I just gave him a big hug on the platform! Then Uncle Andy carried my big bag from the car to their house, and took my coat then showed me into the lounge.

There was Aunt Maude, who got straight up off the chair and came over with a huge welcoming smile to give me a big hug. I hugged her back, feeling the soft wool of her blue twinset against my fingers. She kissed me on each cheek, then gave me a big kiss on the lips too.

"My, it is good to see you young Wendy!" she smiled. "I do hope you enjoy stopping with us as much as we will!"

She smiled again then let go of her hug as she told me to stand up straight so that they could admire me.

I loved it as she laughed and told Uncle Andy: "Don't you think our Wendy is such a nice big girl now? Look how well she fills out her lovely grey cardigan - and that skirt shows her nice strong legs off so well."

Uncle Andrew smiled at me, then came over to give me a welcoming hug too, only this time he also gave my bottom a gentle squeeze as he held me, kissing me as Aunt Maude had, first on the cheeks and then full on the lips. He seemed to stay cuddling me for some time, and so I held him tight too.

Then he looked over to Maude: "There's no doubt our little Wendy has grown into a nice big girl for us, Maude, hasn't she? Shall I go and make a cup of tea for us, while you explain our house rules to her?"

"Yes, that's a very good idea, Andy. You go and put the kettle on while we sit down on the sofa side by side." 

And taking my hand, she led me to the sofa where we sat down. My Aunt gave me another cuddle into her cardy, which she knew I liked so much.

"Well," she began, still with an arm around my shoulder, "We live a very happy life together, Wendy, so we need to be able to keep our normal life going while you stay with us. This means you need to know our little rules, my love!"

She smiled, and drew my right hand to her waist. The wool felt nice and soft, and so did her body under it. Although she wasn't what you'd call fat, she was a well built woman, with a generous bust and a chubby waist.

"The first rule is that we are very open - there are no locks on any of the doors, and we like being undressed, so we often go around the house completely naked, or sometimes with just a cardigan on to keep warm. We like it that way, so hope you can fit in with us. You can obviously keep all your clothes on if you like, but just be aware that you will often see us undressed."

"Oh, Aunty!" I cried, "I didn't know you were nudists! How exciting! But I'm not sure I could be undressed in front of Uncle Andy - I'd be much too embarrassed!"

"Well we thought you might be, which is why you don't need to undress yourself if you don't want. But as I say, we often do. In fact I think Uncle Andy may well have undressed while he's making the tea, so you can start get used to us being naked quite soon."

"Golly!" I said, "But I've never seen a grown man naked before! Will I be able to see his..." 

And I broke off as Uncle Andy came back into the room carrying a tray of tea things - but wearing nothing at all!

I didn't know where to look - except I did, because his big pink thing was hanging down, coming out of a great bush of hair, with his other two things hanging down behind it. And as he walked over to the table, it swung from side to side, seeming to grow as I looked at it.

"Hello Wendy!" he smiled, putting the tray down on the table. "Did Maude tell you about our love of being undressed? Have you seen a naked man before?"

"Well yes, she told me," I blurted out, "but no, I've never seen a grown man undressed before. I was just saying that to Aunt Maude." and I felt myself redden as my eyes kept drifting back to his thing.

Uncle Andy looked into my eyes: "Well, if I come and sit between you two, then Maude can give you your first lesson in the difference between men and women. But first I'll pour the tea. How do you like yours, Wendy?"

"Oh, just as it comes." I said, then realised that maybe I should have put it a different way, as I saw Uncle Andy's thing twitch and grow a bit more. It was now sticking out from his body, pointing forwards.

"Sugar?" he asked, looking round at me having poured out the three cups.

"No thanks. Mummy always says I'm sweet enough!" I replied, smiling. 

It was all a bit strange, but somehow Aunt and Uncle made it seem so normal. Uncle Andy brought two cups over to me and Aunt Maude, and I couldn't help but watch as his thing moved from side to side, seeming to now be pointing further upwards.

I smiled and took the cup and saucer. "Thank you Uncle, " I said, remembering how Mum had told me to be polite at all times.

He went back to get his cup, then as he walked back Aunt Maude spoke.

"We two girls need to move apart a bit don't we, then Uncle Andy can sit between us. There's plenty of room for three on the sofa if we all squash up a bit."

So we both shuffled apart, with Uncle Andy's thing now right in front of me, when to my relief he sat down. There wasn't that much room on the sofa, so we were all squeezed against each other, and I couldn't help be see his thing now pushing upwards, the end looking darker red and shiny. It did look a funny thing!

"How's the tea, Wendy?" asked my Aunt.

"It's fine," I replied, "but it's a bit too hot to drink at the moment."

"Yes, I was thinking that too - why don't you put yours on the side table, and I'll do the same with mine.

"Well I'll keep mine," smiled Uncle Andy, "as I like it hot."

"I know you do pet!" said Aunt Maude, looking over to me. "The other reason for putting my tea down is I can show you Andy's body better. Now I know this is the interesting part, so let's start here," she said, reaching over and putting her fingers round Uncle's thing.

Uncle seemed to like it, bacause he sighed deeply and I saw his thing get even bigger as Aunty squeezed it tight and pushed her hand downwards. It had a big smooth head with a little slit, and it seemed a brighter red than the rest of it. And down the shaft into the forest of hairs there seemed to be lots of veins. It was all very strange to see - a bit like my old biology books, but somehow much more alive. 

"This is Uncle Andy's knob!" she smiled. "It's always getting stiff like this, but it's very nice and the skin has a lovely warm soft feel, even though it's quite hard in the middle. Now you hold it too, so you can feel for yourself. It is very important that you get familiar with our naked bodies, as you'll be seeing them lots while you stay with us."

So nervously I reached forward, and Aunty just sort of pulled my hand around Uncle's thing, then moved her own hand away, so there I was holding it on my own. It was quite hard and warm, I remember, and Uncle did let out a gasp as I squeezed it too, like Aunty had.

"You'll find Uncle likes that a lot - but then he likes all sorts of attention on his knob. And when he's had lots of attention, his knob shows its thanks by squirting sticky cream everywhere."

I'd heard that boys did those squirty things, but never seen it for myself. And now I was holding Uncle's "knob" and squeezing it like my Aunt had. It felt so strange, but somehow perfectly normal all the same. After all Aunt and I were still fully clothed - it was only Uncle Andy that was nude.

"Here, Andy, let me take your cup," she said, smiling over to me, "and perhaps Wendy would like to see your knob cumming - would you pet?"

"Well," I said, not knowing quite what to say. "If you are sure, Aunty and Uncle, that it's alright...." I trailed off.

So Uncle passed his cup to Aunty to put on the little table next to hers, and Uncle put his arms out behind us both, then seemed to clear his throat before he spoke.

"Do you want to show Wendy the things that my knob likes, Maude?" he asked.

"Why yes, of course," smiled Aunty, moving her warm hand over mine.

"Well the easiest lesson for day one, is just moving your hand up and down his shaft, like this." she continued, pulling my hand up and down Uncle's knob. 

It felt funny because there was a hard bit in the middle, but the skin just moved up and down with our fingers, apart from the big round end which just seemed to get bigger. Quite soon his entire knob seemed very big and hard, and we were getting into a regular rhythm with our hands going up and down. 

After a few minutes Aunty smiled at me and spoke: "Look, Wendy, there's the first little tear on the end of his knob! But he's not really crying, are you pet?"

Uncle seemed to be breathing faster now, and had some difficulty with his words.

"Oh no," he said, "It's certainly not crying - it's actually getting very happy. Your fingers are doing a very good job Wendy." and he gripped his hand around my shoulder, stroking my cardigan.

"Oh good!" I smiled at him, "I do hope I can be a good help to you."

It all seemed so natural, really, as my hands and my Aunt's moved up and down Uncle's knob. It was starting to get slippy now, as his tears seemed to have spilled down his shaft making our fingers slide easily as we continued our arm movements. My arm was getting quite achey, but I didn't want to let it show, so carried on, smiling at both Aunty and Uncle.

"Right," said Aunt Maude, after another few minutes. "I think he's nearly ready to shoot for us now, so just get ready to see some creamy white sticky cum spouting out of his end - and when it does you can move your hand faster and squeeze harder until it's all over. Is that OK, Wendy? I'll just leave you to it now, and let him stroke me while you mkae him cum!"

So she moved her hand away, leaving me on my own with my hand now moving very fast up and down his knob. Uncle, meanwhile, had lowered his hand over Aunt's cardigan, and she'd undone a couple of buttons to let him feel inside over her breasts over her jumper. It reminded my of that time I'd seen my Mum doing the same thing, so it felt nice and cosy. Except Uncle was now making some funny groaning noises as his panting got faster and faster.

He started crying out "Yes, Wendy, Yes!" so I knew he wanted me to continue, then suddenly out shot all this sticky white cream, just like Aunt had said. I watched as it shot up into the air, landing on his belly just above the forest of hairs.

Just as his cream started squirting out I felt him grab me tighter round the shoulder and pull me close to him, and I could see his other hand was now stroking Aunt's breasts, as he'd pulled her jumper up and had a hand inside her white bra.

His whole body had be writhing as his cum first shot out, and now I kept going harder as Aunt had told me, watching as more spurts of cum came out, spurting into the air and splashing back on his body.

"That's a very good girl!" said my Aunt, as I continued to move my hand faster up and down like she had said. "You are doing him very well, Wendy, and I can see he likes it very much indeed. Look how much cum he's splashing everywhere!"

And as I looked there were more spurts jumping out, some landing on his belly, some on his legs, some even splashing on my hand, on my skirt and on Aunt's skirt and her cardigan.

"Oh dear," I said, "I'm afraid there are some splashes on your skirt and cardy, Aunty. I'm very sorry - it just seemed to shoot everywhere!"

"Never mind," smiled Aunt, "they needed a wash anyway, and when it comes to pleasing Andy's knob, what do dirty clothes matter? We can both take them off in a minute. Now just keep going till you feel him go soft, then you can slow down." 

So with my arm now definitely feeling more than a bit achy, I was quite glad when Uncle's knob stopped spurting out, and just like Aunty had said it would, it began to feel a bit softer and bendy.

Uncle was still hugging me tightly, stroking my shoulder, and still had his hand in Aunty's jumper, when he smiled at me and said some words I'll remember for ever.

"God that was so wonderful Wendy, you are such a good girl. I do hope we can make things just as wonderful for you too. Now let me give you a kiss to say thank you."

So I moved my face closer towards his, smiling, as his arm pulled me all the way and I felt our lips meet. He pushed his lips towards me, and suddenly I felt his tongue in my mouth. I pushed my tongue back at his, and we seemed to entwine tongues as he kissed me so strongly. I even felt his knob harden slightly too. 

Then he pulled away, and smiled at me again.

"Thank you for that special treat, Wendy. That's what we call 'tossing off' and you've just tossed me off very well indeed."

"Well I'm glad you liked it Uncle." I smiled, happy that I'd done a good job. "But it does get very messy, doesn't it?"

"Oh it certainly does!" laughed Aunt Maude. "But that's why it's nice being naked - we can just go and have a bath afterwards. And sometimes he puts his cum in my special places so there's no mess at all - but that's a lesson for another day. Now I'll just go and get the tissues for a quick mop up, and I think I'll leave my skirt for the washing. I think you need to take yours off too Wendy, as I noticed several squirts going right over it. I think your cardigan is fine though, so you can keep that on if you like."

By now Uncle Andy had shut his eyes and was panting more gently as he sat there, so I moved my sticky hand off his shrinking knob.

Aunt got up and slipped off her skirt, then seeing me with my sticky fingers she said: "Just wipe it on your skirt, pet, then pass me your skirt and I'll slip it in the wash too."

So I stood up, feeling a bit strange, but then seeing Aunt in her unbuttoned cardy and tight white panties, it didn't seem so strange to be slipping off my skirt, and showing my white thong off to them both. 

As Aunt went out of the room I realised we'd not drunk our tea, so reached for Uncle's cup and offered it to him.

"I hope it's not too cold for you, Uncle." I said.

"Oh I don't care how cold it is, Wendy, that was such a beautiful tossing you gave me." he smiled up at me, taking a big slurp from the cold tea. I drank mine while still standing up, then Aunt came back in with a tissue box, and her cardy buttoned back up again.

She sat next to uncle, and began mopping away at the various globs of cum that I seemed to have made him to splash all over his body. 

'Well,' I thought to myself, 'as long as he enjoyed it as much as he said he did, then a little mopping up and clothes washing is probably a good thing'.

Soon there was a neat pile of dirty tissues, and Aunt and Uncle sitting side by side finishing off their teas.

"Why don't you go and have a little bath now Andy," said Aunty, looking at Uncle, "and I'll have a little more fun with Wendy. By the way Wendy, those panties look a little too tiny for our normal use - and they seem much too tight between your legs. I think I may have to get some bigger ones for when you're relaxing at home."




Wendy Ch. 01



"Whatever you want, Aunty." I said. "These thongs do cut in a bit, but you get used to them after a while - and I actually quite like them being tight at the front."

Aunt Maude smiled up at me. "Well when Uncle's gone upstairs you can have a look at my panties, and I'll have a look at yours. Now, Andy, off you go, there's girly talk we need to have!" 

So Andy pulled himself up off the sofa, and giving me a kiss on the lips, and a squeeze of my bottom, he left to go upstairs for a bath. I smiled to myself seeing his little knob now small and floppy as he walked out of the room. 

"Now, come and stand in front of me, Wendy, and put your hands behind your head. I need a closer look at these knickers of yours."



Wendy Ch. 02



Ellen

If you read part one you will recall this took place during a more quiet era; when young men carried draft cards and the mere mention of “69” would elicit a howl from bystanders. 

“What color was the shirt?” I recognized the voice and I considered hanging up, I had resolved to abandon the idea of having her write the contract, I wanted to forget the idea and to forget Wendy. I had also resolved to never touch wine again. Especially Chardonnay!

“What color?” I stammered.

“This is Wendy calling; I’ve got the first draft of your contract done, can you come over take a look at it, say 7:30?”

“You didn’t answer my question about the color of the shirt.” were the first words out of Wendy’s mouth when she opened the door. 

She was jovial; almost giddy with excitement. She was dressed in the same tight pants but the loose blouse was replaced by a sweater, white with a red trim along the V-neck. The sweater stretched tight across her small breasts. Odd, I thought. Her petite breasts did not fit the rest of her body. 

The same giant white beads adorned her neck. They were not pearls after all.

“Blue, I think. No plaid; black and blue I guess.” wondering what the hell difference did it make. I took my place at the end of the table and waited expectantly for the contract to be reviewed.

“This is a different cheese; it has a good bite. I hope that you like it,” she commented; grinning mischievously as she pushed a glass of Chardonnay my way. 

I was livid.

“Where’s the contract?” I muttered, through clenched teeth. 

Unruffled, she produced a single sheet of paper which I accepted with my left hand while lifting the glass to my lips with the other. My five points had been expanded into three sentences each; replete with legalese and typed neatly. There were no spelling errors but the document was devoid of those standard phrases one would expect to see in an agreement of this magnitude. 

“One of our standard purchase orders would probably work just as well,” I said for effect. No response.

I did not look her way but sensed that she was not paying attention as I tried once again, “I’m planning on visiting them the day after Thanksgiving and would like to go back with an agreement.”

Pulling a pen from my pocket; I jotted down some suggestions in the margins, admonishing myself for not having brought a pen with red ink.

I replaced the paper on the table and took a long gulp of wine; judging that one more would drain the glass. I would then prepare to leave.

“Blue and black plaid?” she asked, “no white or other colors? Which way did the blue run?” Demonstrating, Wendy crossed her chest with her finger, first up and down, then sideways.

She reached for the paper and slid it into the briefcase next to her seat that I had not noticed. It was a narrow folder and maroon in color. Judging by the look; I’m sure that it was made from smooth Italian leather. I wondered if that was her only such case then suspected it probably was not.

I looked around the room as if seeing it for the first time. The carpet, furnishings, wall covering and her briefcase all looked expensive. I could not help but consider the contrast. 

As Marcie had claimed, Wendy came from a good family. I had considered my family good but it was not the same. She had lived a privileged life which she took for granted while I had immersed myself into the every day operation of a small business in which I had no stake. 

I imagined that Wendy’s greatest worry in life had been deciding which color her brief case would go with one of the many outfits she wore! My main worry was how many gladioli to order and how they would be treated. 

“Which way?” Wendy brought me back, her finger still making the crossing motion.

“I don’t remember”, I answered and reached for my glass again. I was not about to touch the cheese.

“Oh,” She said thoughtfully. “Not to worry. Did Marcie find out?”

“No”.

“Did she leave you alone with Ellen again?” She looked expectantly at me as she poured a second glass of wine for herself and then refilled my glass. “Did you do her?”

I cracked up; the anticipation on her face was almost juvenile.

I leaned back in my chair and told her about Ellen and myself. The morning after our dance lesson, I had discovered the record player was still turned on. 

Thank goodness Marcie had not noticed. Nor did she seem to notice. Both Ellen and I had slept in our clothes. She was in a contemplative mood.

Ellen had found me in the greenhouse. Marcie made no move to separate us; she seemed to have been in a daze, we noticed and wondered if something had happened the night before. She had come home early and had proceeded directly to her room, thank goodness. We wondered if she would be going out with Tad that night. We both speculated about Marcie and the mood she seemed to be in.

I was in the process of getting the greenhouse ready to close down for the winter. We had sold most of the Christmas plants and there was no need to heat it until spring. Ellen sort of hung around, helping me move things out of the way so that I could hose down the racks and clean the floor before cutting off the water. For the most part though, she watched as we conversed. 

She talked about what a guy my age needed to know about kissing, petting and making out. I was a little embarrassed to hear her talk like that, especially when the subject of oral sex came up. I attentively listened to her descriptions. No-one and certainly not a female, had ever spoken to me so frankly about sex as Ellen had done that morning. 

One minute she was speaking seriously about tongue rigidity; the next minute she would demonstrate her point by trying to stick her wet tongue in my ear. She succeeded. 

I secretly hoped that Marcie would leave us alone and for the most part she did. 

It was during this talk that Ellen sternly admonished me. “Never fuck and tell. That’s the worst things a guy can do.”.

“You can tell now, about Ellen I mean,. You’ll probably never see her again.”

I had almost forgotten Wendy was in the room. Looking her way I leaned forward and revealed, “That’s not her real name.” 

Wendy grinned.

While we were having lunch Marcie got a phone call. Since we only have one phone and it’s in the dining room, she motioned for us to leave so that she could talk in private. 

She stayed in the house until mid afternoon.

By that time Ellen had me so worked up I was walking in circles. Besides the graphic sex talk she was playing grab ass with me. 

With all the distraction that she was causing, it took much longer to close down the greenhouse than it had the year before.

Marcie announced that she was going out to dinner with Tad and that we would have to fend for ourselves. I was cautiously ecstatic but Ellen couldn’t leave it alone.

“Is that Tad for tadpole or is that Tad for little one?” she asked Marcie tauntingly. 

I tried to wave her off but Marcie did not answer. 

“Too bad you’re going out Marcie, you could see Cotton dance, he’s learning real fast, or should that be really fast?”

Marcie bristled, “I think it is really fast’ and his name is not Cotton.” She paused and gave Ellen a cruel stare. “Tad is short for Thaddeus, he prefers Tad. It’s better politically”.

“I don’t blame him.” Ellen countered. 

I was on pins and needles until we heard Tad’s car pull up. Marcie left some final instructions about what we were to eat; what time to turn in and if we insisted on using the record player to turn it off. Ellen and I glanced at each other.

After we ate, Ellen headed for the bathroom. “I’m going to get ready for bed and I suggest you do the same. We don’t want her catching us with our jeans on; that was quite a close call last night,” she flashed a naughty grin at me. 

I cleared the table and washed the dishes; the shower was running full blast. Getting ready for bed was simple. I slept in my underwear.

We danced to the same records as the night before, slowly and very close. 

Frank Sinatra crooned. ‘I’d like to get you on a slow boat to China.’

Ellen’s hair was damp from the shower and it smelled like violets or rather how I supposed violets would smell. The record changed. 

‘Blow me a kiss from across the room’ ‘Tell me I look nice when I’m not’

Half way through the second song her robe came untied at the waist. Somehow, my right hand had found its way inside the robe and we danced closer, barely moving. 

Ellen stopped completely and took me by the hand. 

She pulled the T shirt over my head, stepped back and ran both hands over my chest. I could see her face by the light coming from the bathroom; I could see a look of determination. This girl was on a mission and I was her prey.

There was a chill in the room, not from her hands which were smooth and warm and knowing, nor from the temperature to which I was oblivious.

It was from the excitement of being with a member of the opposite sex pressed up against my chest and the prospect of being on the verge of necking with her.

Ellen made two sudden moves. Her robe was flung one way as she bent in half and deposited the nightgown at her feet. She came into my arms and started necking with me. The player made a ‘clicking’ sound as the arm shifted to let another record drop; I had no idea what was playing. Time seemed to stand still.

She slowed things down and we explored one another, our mouths locked together like a vice. I was fascinated with the curve of her butt; letting my hands rest there before squeezing her.

Moving cautiously at first I moved my hands up, down and around her ass cheeks; then with abandon as I became increasingly turned on by the feel of her. 

Ellen giggled, “Remember what I told you?”

I nodded and felt a shiver graze my shoulders.

This was rather like a ‘paint by the numbers’ picture; Ellen’s step by step instructions were easy to follow.

I was absorbed with worry, ‘Would being caught naked on the couch be preferable to Ellen being caught in the same position in my room?’

Ellen brought me out of my guilty trance by pressing my lips to her breasts. Step one was under way. The nipple of her left tit rattled around between my lips, then hardened and fairly bounced against the pressure of my tongue; I switched tits and got the same reaction, ‘This was fantastic.. Why go to step two?’ I wondered.

I glanced over at Wendy; her mouth was slightly open with her head tilted backwards, her eyes fixed on the ceiling. He pupils were noticeably dilated and she stirred as if this was an intermission. She licked her lips and closed her mouth. I proceeded to continue with Ellen.

Gripping my head firmly in both hands, Ellen moved it downward. Reluctantly I gave my tongue a rest and kissed my way to her navel which I circled, making great smacking sounds as I did. It was at this point that I discovered that she was ticklish because her tummy began to ‘giggle.’ This amused both of us so I exaggerated the sounds for a while before moving on to step three; this time without any prompting from Ellen.

Ellen gasped when my lips touched her inner thigh, just inches from the V where her legs met. It was thrilling to have such a dramatic effect on someone. Sex Ed. had not been invented; I was learning by doing. 

While sliding down her body I had reached the end of the couch and dropped down to the floor. This took the pressure off my cock which, up until that point had been pinned in one uncomfortable position after another. Ellen had moved her body so that her legs were stretched across the armrest at the end of the couch. 

I forgot the steps and plunged my tongue into her opening, ignoring what I perceived to be a rancid taste. I was totally absorbed with the reactions from her legs; they alternated between opening wide then wider, before collapsing around my head, gripping me tight, then loosening and spreading wide again. I lapped, she bucked and jerked; it was exhilarating. 

After a while, I felt a tug on my hair and moved back to the couch. Ellen was gasping for breath; her body was hot and wet with perspiration. 

To my surprise, she pressed her lips to mine in a series of short breathless kisses; followed by a lip lock that sucked all taste of her from my mouth.

“Cotton, that was marvelous.” She whispered. 

It was not until the next morning that I remembered the ‘magic button’ that I was supposed to have found. No matter. Ellen’s butt had moved upward so fast I had bitten my tongue! Her body shook; fit-like. At one point, I think she screamed my name in an inaudible gurgle. Her pelvis moved up and down before slowly moving to a halt. 

I got up from the chair and walked around the table. I stopped in front of Wendy and leaned over. Her expensive chair was not very comfortable and I needed to stretch my back. 

Wendy watched me intently with a little girl lost expression, one of wonderment. Her feet were on the floor and I rested my hands on her legs, just above the knees. She continued to watch me, puzzled but without alarm. Her mind must have been as much of a blur as mine was. 

There was no purpose to my action. I had no idea why I was standing there mute with my hands on her legs but my back felt relaxed so I remained in that position for what seemed like minutes still in a state of suspension. I opened her legs wide, closed and then opened them once again. There was no resistance. Wendy was a like rag doll.

Then I noticed it. A spot at the V where her legs met. 

“Hey!” I suddenly removed my hands from her legs and straightening up said, “You haven’t told me yours”.

“My what?” she looked at me, confused.

“Your first time, that was the bargain.” I reminded her.

“Would you ah, would you like some coffee?”

It was then that I observed the table, the empty wine bottle was turned on its side resting on the cheese tray which was also empty. “Sure,” I said, not really interested in coffee at that hour.

I followed her to the kitchen which was small but immaculate. The entire area was decked out in white, even the appliances which made for a very sterile appearance. Everything was arranged within reach, galley style. In addition to the usual things one would find, there was a dishwasher and at the far end a clothes washer and dryer. 


Ellen measured some coffee grounds in the percolator. She placed the usual things on a tray; cups, saucers etc. then turned toward me.

Hesitantly and without looking at me, she began. 

“There were two but I’ll tell both,” she said, looking at me. I was reminded of how big a girl she was.

‘Two first times?’ I was tempted to ask but she was speaking so softly that I did not want to spook her. I nodded.

“The first was so awful. I would just as soon skip over it but I don’t want to cheat you. It was my freshman year in college. I wasn’t very popular.” she checked to see my reaction and I gave her a sympathetic nod, “He was a junior and not very popular either so we were well suited for one another.”

She took a gulp of air and leaned back against the counter top, giving me a view of her profile but not a head on look at her facial expression.

“He was more experienced than me, a lot more experienced” She made a little sucking sound and I scolded myself for what I was putting her through.

“After a month of seeing one another I would say that they really were not dates, he did not have much money and he wouldn’t let me pay so we usually hung around with his friends or took in free entertainment. I wouldn’t call them dates either.” She checked the coffee maker which was still perking, frowned and checked to see if I was paying attention. I was. 

“All this time he pestered me for sex. We both lived in dorms which forbid visitors from the opposite sex visiting so one day I asked him where he proposed doing it; assuming I was inclined but which I was not. I only raised the question to throw up a road block but of course he took it to mean I was agreeable if only we had a place. ‘Stupid me!’” She laughed at herself, only briefly. I remained silent.

The coffee had by now finished perking. She poured two cups and I carried the tray back to our seats. This time I sat next to her on the love seat; telling myself it would be more comfortable and easier to reach my coffee cup which I almost knew she would not want removed from the tray.

“It was not more than a week before he found a place. One of his friends lived off campus and was going away for the weekend. ‘It was all ours, he said.’” Wendy gave me a ‘So that was that’ look. I winced.

“It was either put up or shut up,” she said. “Or in this case, put out or shut up!” She laughed and I laughed with her. Her mood was changing. I wondered if Wendy had told this story before and was revising it with each telling.

“I packed two changes of clothes and two nighties. I had my nails done and that was when I had my ears pierced. I wore this gaudy pair of ear rings to class that day because we planned on going directly to the apartment and staying Friday and Saturday nights, I must have looked like a cheap hooker; that’s how I felt.”

Wendy had drifted from jovial back to sullen. I rubbed her shoulder to show my support.

“The apartment was quite a distance from campus and he couldn’t borrow a car. He would not hear of me paying for the taxi fare so we had to take the damn bus. Here was me with this overnight bag and still wearing those dreadful ear rings. He was wearing his school clothes and I don’t think he even brought a toothbrush!”

Thinking I heard a sob I rubbed her shoulder again, then the back of her neck. It was hard for me to see the humor in the story but Wendy was almost giddy.

“We walked from the bus stop, me with my bag. It was about three blocks in a ratty part of town. We found the number. I nearly refused to go in, it was that bad. He said, ‘Come on, it’s on the third floor’. 

So up we go and he still didn’t offer to carry my bag. He took my hand and expected me to keep up. There were noises coming from every apartment; radios were blaring and kids crying. You can just imagine the smell.”

“The place was filthy, I don’t know how the guy could live there, let alone study. I really, really should have left right then.”

Wendy shook her head, to and fro in disbelief. “I’ll bet you wonder how I ever became a lawyer?” she joked. She was right but I did not say so.

“He was all over me. Naturally he wanted to go right to bed and I must admit so did I. Can you understand that?” she enquired, looking at me. 

“I guess,” I muttered. I had guessed right because she continued.

“The sheets hadn’t been changed in a month and the pillow cases had stains from hair oil and god knows what. If only I had thought to bring a change of linen; I was mad at myself and mad at him.”

The head shaking began again as if to say, look-at-me-I-am-so-stupid. I was glad to see that she could laugh at herself.

“I wanted to go look for clean sheets but he said there probably were none. He was busy with the buttons on my blouse. He was probably right. I wanted to turn the dirty sheets over, he said no. He reached behind me to unzip my skirt. I wanted to go to the bathroom and put on a negligee. He said, ‘Why, you don’t need it’. I wanted to hang up my blouse and skirt because the floor was dirty. Again he said ‘Why, my pants and shirt aren’t complaining.’ 

Wendy threw up her arms and growled, “I let this happen”.

I did not know whether to laugh with her or console her, “It happens a lot, I guess”.

“I let it happen to me. I just lay there naked, letting it happen. He plunged ahead like a bull in a china shop. I still can’t remember if it hurt or what I felt, I was more concerned about the dirty sheets on my back and my head on the oil soaked pillow case. Honestly, I can’t remember.” She started to sob so I rubbed the back of her neck. It was tensed up, all hot and sweaty. Her hair tickled the back of my hand. 




Wendy Ch. 02



Chapter Two--Home, Sweet Home

Finally the long drive back to Boise was over. Wendy hadn't spoken once in seven hours. I didn't worry, since I knew she'd been trained to speak to men only when spoken to. I wasn't anxious for her to ask a lot of questions at this point, anyway. The inevitable realizations would be much easier to handle once the drive had ended.

I turned onto Warm Springs Avenue and then down the side road that would lead to the back driveway of my Boise base of operations. This was what you'd call a "Stately Home." Not quite big enough to be a mansion, it was a white colonial-style house, three stories plus a basement and attic. After I'd finished remodeling it to suit my needs, it had ten bedrooms and seven full bathrooms, and stood on a four-acre plot of elegant green lawn. Best of all, the entire property was surrounded by a fifteen-foot high wall of red brick. Two-hundred-year old trees added even more privacy to the scene. Now, at one in the morning, the accent lights in the flowerbeds along the house and driveway glowed softly. Most of the windows on the second and third floors showed light behind the heavy shades, creating a warm and inviting picture as I triggered the electronic gate sensor and drove forward, the gate closing silently behind me. I stopped the car at the head of the U-shaped driveway and unlocked the doors.

"Wendy, this is your new home. I realize you're probably frightened and confused right now, but I want you to remain silent a little while longer. All your questions will be answered once we get you settled in properly." Wendy was a good, obedient girl and followed me in the back door, which opened into the large, gleaming kitchen. 

One of the suites on the main floor was dedicated to the use of my full-time chef, a portly genius by the name of Brian. The kitchen was his domain, although it was too late for Brian to be around. He was probably busy with the girl I had assigned him full time, as he possessed a huge appetite for all of life's little pleasures. So it was just Wendy and me in the echoing space, surrounded by the hard gleam of stainless steel appliances and flooring, and the softer glow of polished copper from the pots and pans hanging everywhere. I closed and locked the door, setting the outside motion and perimeter alarms as I did so. Next I pressed a small button on the intercom system to summon Juana, one of my other girls.

"Wendy, just have a seat on that stool there while we wait for Juana to arrive. She'll be helping you settle in and get used to my routine." Wendy did as told, moving somewhat gingerly. I could tell the chastity belt was starting to chafe, and she probably needed to use the bathroom as well, since we hadn't stopped on the way home. 

I enjoyed the sight of her sitting with her legs slightly spread. She'd kept her knees together and her feet demurely crossed at the ankles all the way home. I had a sudden vision of her tied spread-eagle on my bed, face blushing red, crying and straining helplessly to close those muscular thighs. It was all I could do to restrain myself from dragging her to my suite right away. But there were procedures to be followed, procedures I had developed into an art form over the last ten years. I was not going to ruin this prime piece of ass by rushing her at the start. 

Just then, Juana appeared in the doorway to the small formal dining room. Juana was a tall, thin, half-Hispanic woman with waist-length black hair, an athletic form, and large, artificially enhanced breasts. Tonight she was wearing a long silk wrap-around robe in a lovely shade of burgundy. I watched Juana's eyes narrow appraisingly as she eyed the travel-worn, but still attractive girl perched awkwardly on the barstool. "Juana, this is Wendy. She's from Utah, and I purchased her today. Her "bride price" was $4,600 all told. Now, I want you to take her to the Rose Room, and get her all settled for the night. You know the drill. We'll decide specific duties for Wendy tomorrow." 

Juana looked at Wendy somewhat pityingly after hearing the high price I had paid...she herself had cost a mere $2000, a debt that had been repaid long ago. Juana stayed on voluntarily now, and she was my chief trainer and a wealthy woman in her own right. She was also very good at her job, as Wendy would soon discover. "Wendy, Juana is in charge of my household. I expect you to obey her just as you would me. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir, I understand." Juana beckoned, and Wendy followed obediently, if a little stiffly. Her eyes were still modestly downcast, and I wondered if she'd even noticed the splendor through which she passed. Probably not. She seemed to be concentrating on walking without wincing. Fortunately the Rose Room was on the ground floor, adjoining my suite and across the hallway from Chef Brian's suite. All the other bedrooms were on the second and third floors. Wendy would be moved to one of them after her training was complete, but for now, she didn't have far to walk. 

I moved hastily through the dining room and down the hall to my own suite, where I flipped a variety of wall switches and settled happily into my large leather recliner to watch the show. As soon as I clicked the remote to turn on my flat-panel television, I could see and hear all of the action in the Rose Room. I selected the bathroom camera first, as I was sure that would be Wendy's most pressing need.

Sure enough, Juana and Wendy were standing in the bathroom, which was luxurious by anyone's standards. I'd had college dorm rooms that were smaller, and that's not even taking into account the space used by the Jacuzzi tub and double shower. There was a toilet, a bidet, the standard sink and a separate vanity table with professional-quality makeup lights. There was also a small walk-in closet, not that it usually held much. But those of my girls who liked to accumulate clothing were certainly permitted to do so. I wondered whether Wendy would turn out to be the acquisitive type. Time would tell. For now, I wanted to hear what was going on, so I turned up the volume.

"All right, Wendy. I notice you're walking a little stiffly. Are you wearing a chastity belt? I can remove that if you'll spread your legs and lift up that skirt for me." Juana spoke gently, but Wendy reacted as if she had been stuck, blushing and starting to tear up instantly. "I...my father...told me not to let anyone take it off until after my wedding. He told me I'd go to hell. I can't. Please, can you just go out so I can use the toilet?"

Juana couldn't help herself, she started to laugh. Was the girl stupid? She still thought there was a Mormon wedding coming up? Had she noticed nothing around her, or was she just that clueless? Most girls, by this point, would at least have been suspicious. Wendy was the most innocent thing she'd seen in years. God, it would be fun breaking her in. 

"Wendy, listen to me." Her voice cracked like a whip. "You will do as I tell you, when I tell you, because let me promise you, little girl, there is no wedding coming up to save you from me. And I can make your life here worse than any hell you might end up in later. So you'd better get used to doing whatever you're told, and right now." 

Juana assumed this tone would have the usual effect on a girl of Wendy's temperament, reducing her to a quivering, crying, submissive puddle. She was unprepared when Wendy stiffened in shock, and then made a bolt for the door. But Wendy still could barely walk, and Juana easily intercepted her. Cursing, Juana knocked her into the wall with one well placed slap to the face. I winced, watching. Juana was wicked strong. "Fucking little cunt! Just where do you think you're going? Now you're going to have a bruise that will take days to heal, at our expense. The master will be angry with me. And I'm going to make sure you understand just what that will cost you." 

Still cursing, Juana dragged Wendy back into the bathroom and forced her towards the middle of the double shower. Knowing I was watching, she spoke aloud, "James, can you lower the restraints for me?" Her hands were full, trying to control Wendy, who was still struggling. But Wendy was no match for Juana. 

As I keyed the automatic system, padded cuffs on chains lowered from the ceiling, and Juana forced Wendy's hands into them and fastened them tightly. Wendy was so short that when Juana released her, she was forced to stand on tiptoe in the restraints. I'd lowered them as far as they went, but they were ideal for someone at least an inch or two taller. Oh well, it would only heighten Wendy's misery, and perhaps shorten the punishment she'd earned through her defiance. I enjoyed the sight of her stretched tautly to her full height, and waited somewhat breathlessly for the rest of the scene to unfold. 

Juana next reached into a cabinet under the vanity, producing two more cuffs, which she fastened to Wendy's ankles. She attached both cuffs to a short steel rod, forcing Wendy's legs apart, although only slightly, as she was already on tiptoe. Wendy was now completely immobilized, almost dangling by her arms. She also appeared to be in shock, completely white-faced and staring dazedly at her image in the full-lengthy mirror across the room.

Finally, Juana produced a pair of gold-handled scissors from the pocket of her robe. Slipping them out of their case, she proceeded to cut down the center front of Wendy's ugly floral dress. After an inch or two, though, she had a better idea, and she grasped both sides in her hands and simply pulled. The cheap cotton tore to waist level with a very satisfying sound. Juana knelt and tore the dress all the way down, leaving Wendy bare down the center front, her cheap, baggy gown hanging from her arms. I got a tantalizing glimpse of nipple now and then as Wendy swayed slightly, and I grumbled under my breath, "hurry up, bitch. It's already two o'clock in the morning." 

Juana, well attuned to my desires after five years, must have sensed what I wanted. She quickly cut and tore both sleeves free, leaving the dress a tattered ruin around Wendy's feet. She gathered it up and threw it away, but I barely noticed. I was too busy taking in the sight of Wendy's nearly naked body on my big-screen TV. I zoomed in and panned slowly down the length of her tiny form. 

Wendy was painfully thin. I could count each rib, and her pelvis and collar bone were so clearly defined that I could have sketched her entire skeletal structure without any effort at all, if I were an artist. Despite that, her legs and arms were muscular, and I could tell she was used to hard work. I noticed that the freckles on her face were repeated across her milk-white chest and breasts. There were no tan lines anywhere on her body, no indication that any of it had seen daylight before. Despite Wendy's thinness, her breasts were full and luscious, but very firm. I wondered what size they'd be when she'd had a few decent meals and put some flesh on her body. Her nipples were a lovely warm pink shade. Like the rest of her, they were tiny, no bigger than a quarter. As I watched, they hardened at the caress of the cold air.

Juana moved back into view now, walking behind Wendy. She loosened the bobby pins from Wendy's hair, and two waist-length braids tumbled free. Juana unbraided them, combing them out roughly. Wendy's hair, brushed out, fell to just below her ass,. It was a thick, rippling mass that I longed to bury my face in. I imagined grasping handfuls of it as I guided Wendy's mouth on my hard cock. All in good time...after ten years of this game, anticipation is often the greatest pleasure of all. I tortured myself gently with further erotic fantasies, stroking my cock lightly as I continued to watch Juana with Wendy.

Juana sniffed Wendy's hair and frowned. "When was the last time you washed your hair, slut? Answer me!" She had to slap Wendy's face to get her attention. Dazed, Wendy replied, "a week ago. We only had one bathroom for sixteen people. I only got time to wash my hair on Saturday nights before church...." Her voice trailed off, but she seemed more aware now, glancing down and blushing scarlet when she saw her body so brazenly displayed, covered only by her cheap cotton panties and the steel chastity belt she'd been forced to put on over eight hours ago. (I frowned at that, remembering that I had explained to her father that the panties would have to be removed in order for Wendy to use the bathroom while wearing the belt. Mormons had such funny ideas about modesty.)

I saw the now-familiar tears start to well up in her eyes again as she said, "please, I have to go to the bathroom so badly. Please let me go, I won't try to run again. Please?" She was begging, but Juana was unmoved. "You fucked up, bitch. Now you have to face the consequences." Juana did reach down and unlock the chastity belt, using the master key on her personal key ring, which she always carried. She placed the chastity belt on the counter and picked up the scissors. She made two quick cuts to Wendy's worn white briefs, and pulled them away as well. They were stuck to the skin with blood in a couple of places where the chastity belt had rubbed Wendy raw, and Wendy screamed as her skin began to bleed anew. This earned her another slap. "You don't make noise unless we want you to. Do that again, and I'll gag you." 

Juana disposed of the ruined panties just as she had the dress, and then returned to Wendy. Wendy began to whimper as she saw that Juana now held a small riding crop. Juana ignored this, as she rather liked the sound. "Now, my little whore, we'll see about punishing you for your disobedience earlier." Juana gathered Wendy's hair out of the way and began to whip her tiny buttocks and muscular thighs. Despite her threats, she did so lightly, without breaking the skin, since Wendy already had bleeding welts from the chastity belt. But it was an entirely new sensation for Wendy, who did her best only to sob and whimper quietly, fearful of being gagged.

Wendy's face grew redder and redder, and tears streamed freely down her face and neck as the whipping continued. Tears were now streaking her breasts with salty trails. One or two tears dripped right off her nipples, a sight that aroused me immoderately as I watched in my suite, hand still gently pumping my nine-inch cock. At some point, the pain and Wendy's full bladder got the better of her, and she screamed in humiliation as the warm urine gushed down to splash on the tile floor and the conveniently placed drain. 

This was Juana's signal to stop the whipping, and she did so, stepping disdainfully away. "Dirty girl, now I'll have to clean you up, I suppose." Taking the detachable shower head off the wall, she turned the spray all the way to COLD, and turned it on the helpless girl full force, spraying her entire form, with special attention to the breasts and pussy. Once again Wendy screamed as the icy water pounded her body, washing away blood, urine, and tears, and stinging on her welts. She also writhed slightly as the powerful stream massaged her clit, a sight I was glad to see, but she immediately began to blush with shame as she realized what she had done. 

Once Wendy was rinsed, Juana stepped in closer and dampened Wendy's hair, which badly needed washed. For this she allowed warmer water, as she inevitably got splashed herself. She shampooed the heavy mane of hair three times, and rinsed it thoroughly. Wendy sobbed the entire time, but seemed to find the scalp massage somewhat hypnotic, as her tears gradually slowed and her face began once more to look pale and dazed. 

Then Juana picked up a bar of soap and began to lather Wendy's frail form. Wendy's armpits were not shaved, but had only a light fluff of golden hair, not at all unpleasant to look at. Juana soaped them along with the rest of Wendy's body as Wendy once more sobbed in humiliation. When Juana reached Wendy's pussy, Wendy stiffened and tried to swing her crotch away from Juana and the bar of soap. This earned her another slap. "Just for that, bitch, I'll rinse you off with cold water again." 

Juana's probing fingers thoroughly soaped Wendy's cunt and ass, and then she hit Wendy's pussy full force with a stream of icy water for the second time that evening, this time holding Wendy's pussy open with her long fingers, to get all traces of the soap removed. Then she rinsed the rest of Wendy's body and turned the water off, leaving Wendy dangling from the cuffs, soaking wet and glistening, but freezing. 

Wendy's lips were blue with cold, and she was shivering, but Juana ignored this. She stepped out of the shower, dropping her soaked robe to the floor and reaching for one of the large rose-colored bath sheets. As she began to dry herself I had a glimpse of her dark purple nipples and her shaved snatch, but it was nothing I hadn't seen a hundred times or more, and all my attention was focused on Wendy. Wendy's blue lips were moving, and I zoomed in to see what she was saying. 

"I, Nephi, having been born of goodly parents...." The little slut was reciting the Book of Mormon, from the beginning! Fascinated, I listened as she recited the first three chapters, stroking my cock and focusing the camera on her breasts and pussy as the whispered voice continued. Then I got bored and hit the mute button. Her lips kept moving. Well, she could recite herself hoarse, for all the good it would do her. Right now, I needed relief, and thanks to Wendy's defiance, I was going to have to seek it elsewhere tonight. 

I hit the intercom button. "Juana, turn the heat up and leave her there for tonight, then join me in my suite." Wendy started at the sound of my voice, but continued her whispered recitation. Juana, for her part, turned the heat up to 85 or so, then dropped the bath sheet to the floor and walked out of the bathroom, through the bedroom, and opened the connecting door to my suite. She closed it silently behind her and moved over to kneel on the bed, supporting her weight on her forearms and thrusting her ass into the air. She knew what was coming, as punishment for her failure to control Wendy earlier.

I moved behind Juana and kneaded her firm ass cheeks. Then I reached into the bedside stand and found the Astroglide, lubing both my cock and her asshole generously. I shoved my cock into her ass with one practiced thrust, sheathing it to the hilt as Juana cried out with pain. I began fucking her ass slowly, but lust and anticipation had taken their toll this evening, and I began to thrust faster and faster almost at once. Soon I was thrusting frantically, and Juana's E-cup tits were bouncing so hard that it must have been agonizing for her. I didn't care. I reached down and pinched her nipples as hard as I could, twisting and tugging until she begged me to stop. As she begged, I finally came, filling her ass to the brim. I couldn't remember the last time I'd shot so much cum. Wendy was going to be very good for me, I could tell. 

I dismissed Juana, who calmly limped back to her second-floor suite stark naked and dripping cum down the back of her legs. She knew better than to clean off the signs of her punishment before she got back to her room. I almost hoped some of the male guests would find her and have a little gang-bang, because I was still pissed over her miscalculation earlier. But they were all tucked safely in bed with my other girls by then. I watched on the camera as she reached her suite and shut the door. 

Then I switched back to the bathroom of the Rose Room, zooming out until I could see all of Wendy, hanging suspended in her naked glory. I dozed off to the sound of her voice exhaustedly reciting the Book of Mormon, imagining what it would feel like to make her recite as she sucked me off. I added it to my mental list of things to try sometime soon, as I slipped into sleep.



Wendy Ch. 02



Sunday morning after breakfast Wendy and Jim eventually made their way out to the back porch. They had remained nude. 

Wendy noticed that there was a hot tub at the far end of the porch that she had not seen the night before. 

"OOH! I love hot tubs," Wendy exclaimed

Jim took her hand and led her to it and took the cover off. As soon as he flipped two switches he assisted her as they got in.

Wendy moaned in pleasure as she sank into the waters. Jim sat next to her and put his arm around her shoulders. They again entered into their silent universe and just enjoyed the other's close companionship.

After a while Jim reached over to a corner of the wide counter that surrounded three sides of the hot tub and pushed a button activating the lower jets in the tub. Wendy giggled when they tickled the bottom of her feet. Jim said it is the best thing in the world when your feet hurt. 

Wendy talked about her family and commented on the one's he had met the day before. Jim asked her if her sister Mo had given her any indication about what she thought about him.

"What? You want to know if she wants you too? You Casanova you," Wendy said with a slightly worried smile.

Jim laughed and said, "No, I just wondered if she warned you against me in some way."

"Why do you want to know that?"

"Because I can see that if your family does not approve of me I have no chance."

Wendy's mind reeled. He was correct in his analysis of course and was impressed that he had seen that right away. Some of her previous suitors had been shot down after barely making it to second base. No one had veto powers over anyone in the family but they trusted each other's instincts.

What sent Wendy's mind reeling was the "having no chance" part of his sentence; it had her heart singing. 

He did not know he had already won.

She said, "Everyone told me how good we look together. Many told me you must be a great guy because Mike is so proud of you. Mo congratulated me, sort of."

Jim raised his brow and waited for her explanation.

"OK, she told me she was glad I had at last picked on somebody of our own species."

Jim laughed and said, I don't think I want to know about your former boyfriends then."

"None were boyfriends, most were guys she had fixed me up with in the first place. Some of them were guys she was discarding. She is always giving me her hand-me-downs."

After a few more quiet laughs Jim resumed kissing and caressing Wendy. As one of his hands began to caress her red pubic hair her hand sought out and found Jim's cock. They enjoyed the warm water and each other. Wendy added the experience to her list of favorite things, although in no danger of unseating kissing Jim as number one.

She gave Jim a long soft kiss that was soon multiplying itself exponentially. Soon their caresses began to have purpose. 

As soon as Wendy felt that Jim's cock was solidly erect she stood and turned away then bent her body forward as she placed her elbows on the ledge. 

She spread her legs.

Jim saw an offer he could not refuse and soon Wendy felt his cock slowly slide into her pussy as one of his hands reached around and searched for her clit. 

Wendy was not particularly fond of the position and seldom had an orgasm in it however she thought it was most men's favorite so she presented herself for him. But Jim understood its limitations and went out of his way to involve the rest of Wendy's body. 

He caressed Wendy from her thighs to her breasts on one side of her body then switched the hand on her pussy and caressed her other side. 

He kept his strokes long and slow giving Wendy maximum sensation. At times he paused his cockhead at her pussy lips and re-entered her slowly.

Wendy loved that and was soon having mini-orgasms from just that.

After an extra long pause at her pussy lips Jim rammed his cock deep into her and continued to do so until Wendy announce a major orgasm with a deep groan. While she was still in the midst of her cum Jim quickly turned her around and sat her on the ledge of the tub, then rammed his cock back into her pussy well before her orgasm had faded. He kissed her hard as he fucked her with abandon. 

Wendy wrapped her arms and legs around him and burst into the best orgasm of her life. 

Its intensity had her sobbing then giggling. She could feel Jim shudder. 

They did not want to release the other so they did not; he sat them down in the tub as they held onto each other.

They kissed softly, in silence. 

Each was afraid to speak because they knew that if they did "I love you" would be the first words out of their mouth. 

They were "saved" by the sound of the back door opening. Jim's son Mike was walking onto the porch with two of his Dad's chairs. He was returning the stuff he had borrowed from him for the previous day's grilling at his house.

Jim and Wendy did not have the time to uncouple so they just said hi to him.

Mike gave them a big grin then looked into the house and said, "Karen, come here. Maggie was right!"

Karen came out and did a double take when she saw her obviously naked Aunt Wendy sitting on her soon to be fathers equally naked lap as she was facing him.

She clapped her hands and squealed then jumped into the tub fully clothed to hug her.

Karen rained kisses on her Aunt Wendy and kissed Jim for the first time.

She told Jim, "If you hurt her I will rip your pancreas off and your son's too."

"Karen! Ladies do not rip pancreas off. They intimate that there would be dire consequences if they are not pleased."

"What she said," Karen added and kissed Jim again.

"Baby, take off your clothes. The tub water might ruin them," Wendy said.

She somewhat expected her niece to go in the house to do that but instead Karen took off her clothes while in the tub. Wendy was not too surprised. However, Jim certainly was.

When Mike came back with two more chairs Karen asked him to put her clothes in the rinse cycle of the washer then to come join them when he was through.

Mike took note that everyone was nude so when he returned he took off his shorts and t-shirt and got in the tub.

Karen had just figured out that Jim's dick was very likely in Wendy's pussy and suddenly worried that she and Mike had interrupted something.

"I'm sorry Aunt Wendy, were you two, umm, busy?"

"No baby, we had already finished our laps."

The girls giggled, the men blushed.

Wendy had noticed that the father had a bigger dick than the son so she gave it a prideful vaginal squeeze.

Jim shuddered and Wendy sensed that his nearly soft dick had reversed its course.

She wondered if he had experienced exhibitionism before.

"Probably not," she concluded.

She continued to give his cock playful hugs with her pussy as she and Karen carried on a conversation about the party. 

Karen told Wendy that she and Jim were the subject of a lot of conversation especially after someone noticed they were both gone.

"It goes to show you that sometimes the most outlandish rumors are true," Karen added.

"Was anybody upset over that?" Wendy asked for Jim's benefit.

"No, of course not. Mom said that she dearly hoped you did not fuck it up."

Jim was very happy to hear that exchange and knew that Wendy had asked the question for him knowing what the answer would be. He kissed her shoulder as he said a silent "I love you."

"Anything else of interest?" Wendy asked.

"Carly has a secret of some kind, Karen answered. "She denied she did but you know I can read her like a book. She accepted the bridal bouquet when I threw it back at her. I had expected her to throw it at someone else. I need torture devices of some kind, I need to make some people talk."

"Please ignore that request," Mike said immediately.

Karen said, "Hey, I know how to make you talk," and grabbed his cock as she kissed him passionately.

Jim had heard but not seen the byplay across the tub and became alarmed when Wendy slipped off his lap and grabbed his cock that what was now in a full-blown erection. 

He quickly reached to the corner of the tub and hit the bubbler button hoping the bubbles would hide his hard cock before Karen saw it. 

Wendy however had seen Karen grab Mike's cock in her hand and begin to slowly masturbate him so she took Jim's cock in her hand and began to masturbate him too.

Wendy gave Jim a deep kiss as she continued to work his cock. She heard his son groan then heard Jim groan. The bubbles did not permit any visible evidence of their ejaculation but it was very obvious the men were spent.

After a few kisses to aid in his decompression Wendy said, "Sweetheart, why don't you and your son set up the grill for hamburgers? We promise to have something special for you after lunch."

Jim and Mike had decided that getting out of the tub would be a good thing so they gladly followed the suggestion.

Wendy and Karen moved next to each other in the tub and shared a good kiss. 

Karen said. "I love you," and kissed Wendy all around her face with a hard tongue darting kiss as an exclamation point.

"I am so happy for you," Karen added as she hugged Wendy.

After a few moments to enjoy the hug Wendy asked Karen if she had her wedding party picked. 

"Yes, I took care of that last night. Carly is the Maid of Honor as you expected and the attending vassals are my sisters, Charley and Allison. 

"I am not surprised by any of that, in fact that would have been my exact guess. Any preferences on the chapel?"

"No, either of the two last ones would be fine if you can get one."

"Weapons?"

"Cream pies."

"Food?"

"Sea food."

"The big question, the costume designers?"

"Aunt Amanda, Maggie and Carla." 

At that time the guys came out with towels and t-shirts for Wendy and Karen then went to the yard to start the grill. 

Karen commented that she better get out since there was so much sperm in the water she was sure to get pregnant.

They both laughed confident at its impossibility and got out of the hot tub, dried their bodies in full sight of the guys then put on the t-shirts. The shirts fit them like a comfortable summer dress.

"Have you told Jim about our family's decorum or lack thereof?"

"No, but I think he is beginning to suspect."

After another good laugh they went inside and noticed that there were a lot of shrimp in a bowl apparently marinating in herbs.

"We seem to be having shrimp on the barbie for lunch instead of hamburger," Wendy commented. "Lets look around and see what else we can add."

It was a delicious lunch and as promised the ladies had something special for them, a naptime in which no one came close to getting any rest.

Even though Mike's bedroom was the opposite side of the house Wendy heard her groan in triumph. She announced her own a short time later.

The four had a very nice day together. The wedding had a battle plan that included a shock from Karen. 

She asked Jim to walk her down the aisle. 

He said he would be honored to do so.

Wendy was so proud of both she did not quite contain her tears.

Late in the afternoon it became obvious that Karen and Mike were going to spend the night. Mike's bedroom was still as he left it when he bought his own house, only clean. 

It had been his bedroom only for a bit over a year, from his college graduation to the end of his first teaching year.

Wendy got Karen to help her come up with supper, which turned out to be hamburgers.

Mike introduced Karen to Celia but he quickly admonished her not to pet the creature. She was advised that Celia was not a pet but simply a friend of the family. Celia was a wild animal.

Of course Karen went ahead and pet her anyway and Celia chirped in appreciation. As soon as Celia left Karen turned to Mike and stuck her tongue out at him. Mike rolled his eyes and shook his head.

They ended up back in the hot tub that night, all four of them again nude. Wendy and Karen made no attempt to disguise their hands quick journey to their man's cock. 

Jim apparently decided not to worry about it and did not turn the bubbler on. It was too loud anyway. 

They sat in silence for a while until Mike related the story about a possum that had somehow gotten into the girls dressing room at their school. 

He had always lectured the students not to approach wild creatures and that the only time they were dangerous was when they were scared. 

He told the kids, "If you are close enough to have the creatures undivided attention you are too close, back off."

Mike was asked by the principal to go remove the possum from the locker room since he was the life science teacher.

Mike knew possums were not a real problem, they hiss and show you a mouth full of the largest number of teeth of any mammal but it is a bluff. He also knew he should not scare it into "playing dead" as they release all their body odors at once when they did so. 

(Mike and his father were convinced that possums did not "play dead" and just simply fainted as they belched and farted.)

After he picked up a cage and capture net Mike headed to the gym. As he was about to go into the locker room he saw Karen coming out with the possum in her arms partially wrapped in a towel. 

Mike said he was mortified, a useful lesson shot down by this perky, terminally cute redhead. He lectured Karen about her actions as he followed her to her classroom. She calmly opened a cabinet and talked the possum into getting in it then closed it.

The first thing she ever said to Mike was to invite him to come with her after school when she released the possum.

That afternoon they drove to the wildlife preserve and released the creature then ate dinner together at a pizza joint. The friendship that began that day had progressed to the point of a formal engagement. 

A possum brought them together.

Wendy commented that they knew couples that had been brought together by basset hounds and rattlesnakes. Karen nodded but Wendy saw that Mike and Jim drew a blank. She kissed Jim and said, "I'll tell you the stories later." 

She assumed Karen would clue Mike.

The ladies noticed that the cocks in their hands were as firm as they could possibly get and knew that ejaculating into the tubs waters again would be counterproductive so they faked exaggerated yawns and led their men to bed.

Wendy had decided that she was going to please Jim the best she could so it was woman on top for a slow ride. She had several orgasms before he had his. She stayed astride his hips, draped her body over his and kissed him. He hugged her tightly to him. 

They kissed softly and rested.

Wendy slid off Jim's body and onto her side facing away from him and he quickly wrapped an arm around her and kissed her shoulder. Wendy placed her hands over his and cuddled closer to him. She soon noted that Jim had fallen asleep.

She could not sleep. 

She had tried to tell him she loved him several times that day and night but lost her nerve each time. 

She decided it was too soon to bring that up. 

Too soon to lay that burden on him.

It was certainly true that she was in love with him.

Deeply in love with him.

She worried she would scare him away, (unlikely). 

She worried that all she was to him was pussy and tits, (she knew better).

No, it was just too soon.

So was wishing that this were her home, her kitchen, her porch, and her bed. Her lover.

It was too soon.

She never thought she would ever feel that she was home as much as she had that day. Karen and Mike's presence had made her feel like she had spent the day with her family.

But that was too soon.

She sobbed quietly for a while until she drifted to sleep.

"Soon maybe," she thought as sleep smoothed her brow.

She did not dream.



Wendy Ch. 02



Wendy settles in

This story is set in England, so the words used are English not American. All characters are over 18. This Chapter follows on from Wendy 01. 

*

"Why don't you go and have a little bath now Andy," said Aunty, looking at Uncle, "and I'll have a little more fun with Wendy. By the way Wendy, those panties look a little too tiny for our normal use - and they seem much too tight between your legs. I think I may have to get some bigger ones for when you're relaxing at home."

"Whatever you want, Aunty." I said. "These thongs do cut in a bit, but you get used to them after a while - and I actually quite like them being tight at the front."

Aunt Maude smiled up at me. "Well when Uncle's gone upstairs you can have a look at my panties, and I'll have a look at yours. Now, Andy, off you go, there's girly talk we need to have!" 

So Andy pulled himself up off the sofa, and giving me a kiss on the lips, and a squeeze of my bottom, he left to go upstairs for a bath. I smiled to myself seeing his little knob now small and floppy as he walked out of the room. 

"Now, come and stand in front of me, Wendy, and put your hands behind your head. I need a closer look at these knickers of yours."

My Aunt sat up straight, pulling her cardigan and jumper smooth, which seemed to show off her ample bosom rather more, then smiled up at me and reached her arms forward.

"Come a bit closer, my dear, I can hardly touch you from here!"

I did as she asked, and was now standing right up at the sofa, where my Aunt had opened her legs to let me move in between them. She put her hands round me and touched my bottom, which felt somehow nice and comforting, then looked closely at my knickers where they dipped in between my legs. My thong was just a plain white stretchy one I'd had for a while, with pretty little lace around the legs, and Aunt Maude seemed to be looking at the material very closely.

"You look so nice I could kiss you!" she beamed, glancing up at me while her fingers still stroked softly over my bottom cheeks.

I smiled back down at her, her wool-clad arms feeling so warm and somehow engulfing as her fingers played with my bottom. Then to my complete surprise she squeezed my bottom cheeks, moved her head forward and gave me a good big kiss on my panties, right down where they disappeared between my legs. It felt so strange and exhilarating as she pushed her head into my panties, and I'm sure I felt her tongue flicking at me too.

I gasped in surprise, but she held me tight so I kept my hands behind my head as she'd told me to, and just took in the strange and naughty feelings that her kissing was giving me. After a while she started to pull me closer towards her face then let me loose me again, making my hips move to and fro in a rocking sort of way. I felt so vulnerable yet so safe with Aunty.

It felt a bit like the secret playing that I used to do under the covers when I was in bed at home, rubbing against my special teddy bear. It always used to get me so hot and squishy between my legs, and I loved the big warm feeling that came over me when teddy used to rub my special place.

Now as I watched her, I quite liked the feel of her face pushing into me, and I could tell she liked it too. Then I remembered that Uncle Andy had told me I had to be a big girl now I was at University, so I whispered to her.

"I want to be a big girl for you, Aunty. And I do like the feel of you kissing me."

She seemed to like me talking like this, and, not stopping her movements, she asked me: "What do big girls do, Wendy?"

I didn't know quite what she meant, but I'd heard lots of people saying about big girls opening their legs, so I just asked: "Do you mean about big girls opening their legs, Aunty?"

"Yes!" I could hear the smile in her voice. "So now you open your legs wide apart for your Aunty to play with you!"

I moved my feet a bit further apart, and felt her move her head tighter into my crotch. 

Still she kept on her kissing of my knickers, and I could feel myself getting quite moist and squidgy and thought my panties must be getting damp from all this attention. And I was now sure I could feel her tongue flicking against my special parts. It felt quite dreamy.

After a while Aunty pulled her head back, and looked up at me again.

"My, Wendy, you are just so kissable, aren't you? But these panties are definitely too tight for you, so I just think I'll slip them off you. You don't mind, do you Wendy?"

She was so lovely I just smiled down at her and said: "Of course not, Aunty. I know big girls like having their knickers pulled down."

Aunt Maude smiled back up at me: "They certainly do Wendy. You just stay where you are and I'll have them down in no time!"

I did as I was told, feeling so strange and embarrassed as Aunt Maude peeled down my thong and slipped it to the floor. After I stepped out of it, she held it up in front of her, inspecting the cloth quite closely.

"Yes, I thought as much," she said, "It's so tight it's made you quite damp inside, hasn't it?"

I didn't know quite what to say, but she didn't seem to want an answer as she pulled my panties to her face, with her nose at the damp gusset, and inhaled deeply.

It was somehow very erotic but also very personal, so I whispered: "Do they smell nicely, Aunty?"

She sighed and inhaled again, and then said: "I know you are a proper big girl Wendy but your panties have a lovely little girly smell!"

I felt wonderful, especially when she opened up my knickers and said: "And look at those lovely little loose curly hairs. Straight out of my big girl's pussy!"

I giggled, then she said: "I think you need another kiss now as you're such a good girl! So open your legs again for me, there's a poppet."

And as I moved my feet apart, she looked up at me with a big smile before putting her hands round my bottom again, and pulling my hips towards her face.

I gave a little shriek as her lips touched me, and my body gave a little spasm too, as she found my special sensitive part in between my hairs, and started licking it with her warm tongue.

"Oh Aunty!" I said, feeling my hips squirm, "That does feel very naughty!"

She pulled back and looked up at me. "No it's not naughty, my love, it's just very nice. I think you're going to have to learn quite a lot about all those nice things that we can do with each other, so just you relax and let your Aunty give you a good kissing."

And with that she pushed her head back against my wispy curly hairs, and began licking me. She seemed to explore everywhere with her tongue, and I was getting quite flushed. After a while she moved her right hand off my bottom, and somehow brought it up against my inner thighs. 

Now I gasped again as her finger started exploring between my legs, just like I did with myself on my special nights at home with teddy. But it was my Aunt's fingers slipping amongst my slippery folds now, not mine. 

And she did it so well I couldn't help but let myself go, feeling so soft and squishy as she explored my inner secrets with her gentle fingers and searching tongue.

As she continued to finger me, she looked up and said: "I'm so glad my little girl is now a big girl with such a nice hairy pussy. You do look so very grown up!"

I'd been worried about all my hairiness, so it felt so nice to hear Aunt praising it.

"Thank you, Aunty," I said, "I'm glad you like it - but it makes me feel so funny inside for you to finger me and kiss me like this." 

Aunt Maude pulled her body back, and smiled up at me.

"Well Wendy, it is lovely to kiss your pretty little cunt, but you must be uncomfy standing like that - so why not come and sit next to me on the sofa, and we can have a proper cuddle, like we used to."

I smiled back down at her, and lowered my arms from behind my head, before sitting down next to her on the sofa. It felt slightly prickly with no panties on, but it was nice to be sitting next to my Aunt and felt so lovely when she pulled my head into her bosom, just like she used to do when I was a child.

"There, my love," she said, "Does that feel nice with my soft jumper and soft breasts around you?" 

"Mmmm..." I murmured, my eyes shut, and her warmth seemingly all around me. It felt so safe and secure, and still somehow still exciting.

"I think I should give your breasts a gentle stroking too, so just stay there while I see if I can slip your bra off." Aunty spoke so positively I just knew I was safe in her arms.

As my head nestled in the soft wool of her breasts, I felt her hands reach behind me and pull my cardigan up, then I felt the release of my bra strap as she undid it.

Then somehow she reached an arm under me, and I felt her wool-covered arms stroking my belly, up under my cardigan till she reached my right breast. She just stroked it very gently, as if soothing me to sleep, but somehow the way she did it got me very much awake, and I felt more stirrings between my legs.

With her other hand she took my right hand, and pulled it to her breast so I could stroke her as she stroked me, except my hand was stroking over her soft hairy jumper and hers was stroking against my bare skin. As my hand stroked over the wool I could feel the outline of her bra and the softness of her full breast. Then my hand felt the unmistakable bump of her nipple, and I heard her gasp.

"Oh Wendy!" she sighed, "Please keep doing that to my nipple - it feels so lovely when you squeeze me!"

I smiled as I realised she liked this as much as I did.

We carried on stroking and smiling for ages, and the more I squeezed her nipple, the more her breathing seemed to get faster. It was just so nice and relaxing yet so naughty and exciting. 

"Wendy, please just lift up my jumper and feel my tits inside my bra." she sighed.

I put my hand under the soft wool of her jumper, and lifted it up to reveal her white bra with her big breasts wobbling inside. Quickly I slipped a hand under the fabric and found her nipple again.

She gasped and smiled at the same time, then moved her hand to find my nipple too, and soon we were teasing each other with our fingers, me realising that she liked having it squeezed and pulled slightly, and her doing the same back to me. It all seemed just so nice and so natural, and soon I was moving my whole body and squeezing my thighs together as we continued our cuddling.

"Right my dear," she said, panting a little, "I think you're now ready for the last stage, aren't you?"

I didn't know quite what to say, as it was all so strange yet somehow all so nice.

"What would you like next then, Aunty?" I asked.

"Well I think you just need a little more kissing, so let's unbutton your cardie and take off your bra, and I'll show you how big girls relax very nicely together."

I did as she said, glad that Uncle Andy wasn't in the room to watch me unbuttoning my cardigan and slipping off my bra, but feeling happy as Aunt Maude looked at my naked breasts, and scooped them in her hands. She was a very caring Aunt, and now she was going to show me how to relax even more. I felt such a lucky girl.

She stood up, and positioned me so I was sitting sideways on the sofa, then lay me back with my head on one arm and my heels resting on the other. She knelt down on the carpet beside my waist. 

"I feel so relaxed already!" I said to her as I draped one arm over the sofa back and the other by my side, my cardie hanging open as my Aunt studied me.

She looked me up and down, smiling again. "Well let's just see if we can relax you properly, shall we?"

And she took my leg nearest her, and pulled it towards her so that my foot was now resting on the carpet, and my legs quite wide apart. I felt a little exposed, but needn't have worried, as Aunt soon moved closer to put her head over my private parts.

She had one hand on my belly stroking me and the other stroking my inner thigh, as she lowered her head towards my hairy mound.

It still made me quiver when her tongue first touched me, but now I knew it was alright for her to kiss me down there I just relaxed even more. She did kiss very well, and her tongue seemed to just know where all my specially exciting place was.

Soon her hands had moved so one was stroking my breasts and the other had joined her tongue between my legs. I lay there with my eyes shut as the feelings of delightful relaxation came over me, and I felt my body begin to writhe and squirm to her touching and licking.

It felt so natural as she slipped a finger gently inside me - and I knew that I was so squishy she would have no trouble in slipping it in. And all the time her tongue was flicking over my special place, the part that only I knew about, that just excited me so much. It was so lovely and so naughty but as it was my Aunt I knew it must be alright to have these wonderful feelings, so I just gave in and melted.

I was beginning to pant now, as Aunt Maude wriggled her finger inside me, somehow squeezed my special part with her mouth, and stroked my nipples with her other hand. I couldn't help my body's writhing, as my hips moved up and down to push into Aunty's face, and I reached my hands down to touch her soft wool-covered body, stroking her shoulder then realising I could run my hand lower and feel the fullness of her dangling breast.

That somehow stirred her more, especially when I found her nipple again, and she began moving her fingers and lips faster as she continued to work me up.

My hand was now squeezing her nipple as she squeezed mine, so we were moving in unison as my breathing came faster and faster and she fingered me harder and so arousingly.

I was panting hard now, and could feel a very strange feeling happening between my legs, which felt so gorgeous but so out of control.

"Oh, Aunty!" I shouted, "I think it's going to come!"

And as she worked me up faster, I knew I was cumming and felt that amazing feeling spreading out from between my legs all over my body as my hips thrashed up and down into my Aunt's face. She kept up her licking and fingering, and as the first peak seemed to die down, so I could feel another building up.

We went on for ages - or so it seemed to me - with Aunty stroking and fingering and sucking and licking me from peak to peak. I'd never known anything like it, and at the end was so exhausted I knew I just had to stop.

I felt so good, and so relaxed, just like Aunty had said I would. Better than I'd ever felt before, as the times I'd played with myself were nothing like the amazing sensations that Aunt Maude had given me. And all this was on my first day with them!

I looked up to see Aunty lifting her head and licking her lips, smiling towards me. And there behind her was Uncle Andy, standing stark naked holding his bath-towel to one side with his knob sticking out just like it had earlier.

"That was a very good first lesson for you there, Wendy, and I'm very pleased with your progress." she smiled. "I'm sure we're going to have lots of nice fun with you during your time at University."

"We certainly are!" chimed in Uncle Andy. "But before anyone moves, there's a little present I've got to give to Maude. She just looks so divine kneeling there with her bottom in the air, doesn't she, Wendy?"

"Well I've not really had time to look." I replied, "It's all just been so amazing. And I do feel so nicely relaxed now. I don't even feel embarrassed by you seeing me like this."

I'm not sure why I said that last bit - I must have still been dreaming after my excitement - as it did feel a bit strange for Uncle Andy to be able to see my breasts, but fortunately Aunty's head still hid my private parts.

"Good, I'm glad to hear you are fitting into our open life style." smiled Uncle, walking over towards us. 

He stopped behind Aunt Maude, throwing his towel on the arm of the sofa, then knelt down behind her and started stroking the tight white panties over her rounded bottom.

Aunt Maude smiled up at me. "I think I can guess his little present!" she said, "So just you relax and watch."

As I couldn't physically move anyway, with Aunty's body now resting on me, I didn't have much alternative.

So as I watched Uncle Andy's hands moved from Aunt's bottom down between her legs, and I saw her smile as he continued to feel over her panties.

I could see his knob was now very hard - just like when I'd tossed him earlier on - but now I was seeing it from further away, and it somehow looked bigger pointing forwards towards her bottom.

From what I could see he seemed to have pulled her knickers to one side, as first he smiled and then she did too.

"Oooh, Andy, are you taking advantage of me?" she said. 

He just replied: "Oh no, of course not Maude - I'm just getting you ready for your special present!"

She'd now got one hand still holding onto my thigh, and the other resting between my breasts as she lay forward over my lap with her head facing me.

Looking at his arms and hand movements, it seemed that Uncle Andy was now fingering his wife, and I could see her face as she gasped and smiled as his fingers explored her. It felt very strange to be this close to them as they got up to these things, but there again it had been such a strange day already, maybe it was just normal after all.

I'd been watching Uncle Andy's knob as he played with Aunt Maude's private parts, and it seemed to twitch from time to time as it stood forward, pointing slightly upwards and looking much too big to fit in anywhere in Aunty. But I knew that's what he had in mind.

Soon Aunty was moaning to herself as Uncle Andy fingered her, sometimes shutting her eyes, sometimes opening them to smile up at me.

"Oooh," she sighed, "This is very nice, Andy, and it's somehow extra special to be sharing it with you, Wendy. I do hope you're enjoying watching us!" 

"Why yes, Aunty, it seems so natural for me to be here now, and to watch you two playing. I hope his present isn't going to hurt you." I replied.

"Oh no!" smiled Aunt Maude, "He never hurts me, even when we're a bit rough together. It's all just good fun."

"I was meaning about the size of his knob..." I said, trailing off, as I saw Uncle Andy kneel more forward, and lower his knob towards my Aunt's private parts. 

As I watched he pushed forward, smiling as he seemed to be slipping inside her.

Aunt Maude gasped a little, then smiled to reassure me.

"No it feels just lovely as he comes inside me. And my cunt just stretches wider to let him slide in. I'm all so slippy down there, that it's easy, isn't it pet?" and she glanced back towards my Uncle.

"Oh yes, you're certainly very slippy, my love," he said. "Must have been all that licking of Wendy you did earlier on - you're just so nice and ready to slip into."

He'd now pushed further in to Aunt Maude's body, and had put his hands around her waist just under he jumper, to steady himself.

He smiled, looking at Aunty then at me, and began pushing his hips in and out as his knob slid into my Aunt's vagina. I could feel when he pushed in hard, as Maude pressed against me too, and now she gripped my thigh tighter, with her other hand somehow exploring my right breast.

I felt I shouldn't just sit back, and wanted to comfort her a little, so stroked the soft wool of the cardigan on her shoulder, and she reached her hand further up my leg. 

Uncle Andy was now getting into quite a rhythm, as he pounded away at his wife's bottom. I could hear a regular slapping noise when his belly met her bottom, and squishy noises as he pulled back and pressed into her.

He seemed to be getting quite excited, and had slipped a hand around the far side of her bottom, and seemed to be fingering her as he slid in and out. He was certainly panting more now, so I could guess how it would end as he'd have some more sticky cum to shoot up inside her.




Wendy Ch. 02



I wondered how long it would last, and was now getting worked up a little myself, both by watching them doing it right on top of me, and also by Aunt Maude's fingers, which had now reached my slippiness and somehow were sliding gently inside me again.

Every time Uncle Andy pushed into Aunt Maude, she seemed to inch her finger more into me, getting me all warm and tingly again. Her hand on my breast was tweaking my nipple too, so I thought I'd try to do the same to her.

I just lowered my hand over the soft wool, and found again her breast hanging down, now swaying lots as Uncle pounded in and out of her. But I still managed to find her nipple and started giving it a good squeezing. 

She seemed to like it, as now she was panting even more than Uncle Andy.

She was still looking straight at me, smiling and encouraging me with her eyes, so I knew she liked me squeezing her. I smiled back at her, to let her know it was lovely the way she was stroking and fingering me. But I knew she'd get more excited than me, with all that attention Uncle Andy was giving her down below.

He was now pushing in and out very fast, and panting out loud.

"Oh Maude!" he panted, "I'm fucking you, I'm fucking you!" 

And he said it in time with his pushing in and out, which made it quite poetic, I thought.

Aunt Maude was also getting loud as she panted: "Yes, Andy, give it to me now!"

And as I watched the shouting between them got louder, with Uncle shouting more about fucking her, and Aunty shouting out 'yes please' in between gasping for air. 

It felt very strange watching them and feeling them pushing against me, but also very exciting too, so that when my Aunty let out a long cry that she was cumming, I felt a little explosion between my legs too and joined in their panting.

Uncle was now shouting 'Yes, Yes,' as he continued to ram into her from behind, and Aunty was just gasping, pulling some funny faces as she cried out in pleasure.

I just felt pleased to be able to help her get really nicely pleasured by my stroking of her nipple, but know it was what Uncle Andy was doing that was making the real difference.

Suddenly he let out a huge cry, and began to move much faster in and out of his wife's body. I knew he was shooting his cum into her, so watched the both of them as they enjoyed the moment, squeezing my Aunt's nipple as hard as I could. 

They did look a happy couple, my Aunt still dressed in her twinset and panties, and my Uncle naked behind her, pushing in an out as the two of them enjoyed Uncle Andy's present. 

It had been so nice of them to welcome me so lovingly, that I felt quite at home in my new University home...



Wendy Ch. 02



Outside it was a clear and crisp night. The fall season had arrived.

“Say,” she called out. “What color were they?”

I turned and a full moon cast my shadow back toward the half open door where she stood, hand on the door. “What color?”

“Ellen’s robe and nightgown, silly,” she laughed. 

I was thinking of the day ahead as I answered, “Oh, pink I think. The night gown was pink, now I must get along.”

“And the robe?”

I honestly could not remember. It had been two years and I had other things on my mind back then. I picked a color at random which she seemed to know. “Blue.” I said.

“You’re making this up, you couldn’t even keep your steps straight!” she asserted.

She was right, there had been no steps. Ellen gave me ideas not steps; she said there is no ‘magic sequence, you choose the order as you go, otherwise its paint by the numbers.’

I had turned it around and Wendy had caught me at it. So I told her what Ellen had really said.

Hearing this she cocked her head to one side and called me on it. We were acting like school children. She would not let it go.

“Material, what was the material?” she asked.

I moved quickly to the door and jerked it from her hand. My action was impromptu and I had no idea what was taking place, neither did she. We stood toe to toe our breathing shortened. I reached for her; she came willingly. I held her close and in a hushed but firm tone spoke into her ear. 

“Damn you, what’s so important about the fucking material? You can’t get a simple contract right and you’re concerned about fabric! It was winter and the night gown was flannel, pink like I said. The reason I remember it was pink is because there were some red hearts at the top and they looked right with the pink. It was long and hung snug to her, below the knees. There were red draw strings that held it together at the top. The reason I remember that is because I could slide my hand through the opening and feel her tits. She wore the same one every night that week and I slid my hand through that opening every night before she took off the night gown. We finally took the draw strings out.”

Wendy shivered, from the cold or from my speech, I did not know. She clutched me to her. I kissed her and she kissed me back. It was not a passionate kiss and I did not care. It had more meaning. 

The phone was ringing as I walked through the back door.

“Robe?” she said.

“Go soak your pants! I said, hanging up the phone. 



Wendy Ch. 03



If you read parts one and two you will recall this adventure took place before the seven taboo words had been defined. Coffee was perked and a pack of cigarettes was sold for less the today’s sales tax. Some things have not changed.

“Look, I’ve got a paper to write,” I said in a rather harsh tone. It was true, I was behind on work in three out of four classes and did not have time to chat. 

The telephone was off limits to me on week nights. It had always been that way while Marcie lived there; the practice continued when she moved out and my friends knew that I did not take calls. However, there were exceptions.

What if there is an emergency? It could be one of any number of business associates, a supplier with news of a delivery or one of my funeral home contacts. 

Mothers of the bride are my specialty. They are all the same, hell bent on planning the wedding. Since one of the first things they want to take care of is the floral arrangements, they sometimes call us even before the engagement hits the paper.

‘Who would be calling me a 7 p.m. on a Monday night, just as I was sitting down to study?’ I wondered. The phone call could bring new business. Or.....It could be Wendy. I picked up the phone on the forth ring.

“You didn’t finish the story!” She had an annoying habit of demanding a response without the courtesy of ‘a how do you do.’ If she ever gets in front of a judge I thought; the scene made my rib cage tickle.

“Sure I did,” I answered, thinking I knew which story she was talking about.

“Well, did you?”

“Did I what?” 

“Did you do step five?” Her voice was tentative but I knew it was only for effect. There was nothing tentative about Wendy. “With Ellen, I mean.”

That is when I told her about the paper, it was not due until Friday but I was smothered with other work and wanted to convey it to her.

“What’s the subject? I went to college you know, perhaps I can help.” Her tone was sympathetic, consoling.

“Business Law,” I answered sarcastically. I had taken a course in business law the previous year and had enjoyed it. It was that introduction to the law that made me see the necessity for a special contract with the plant suppliers. I did not volunteer the actual name of the course or the subject of the paper.

Not hearing a response, I got a little anxious. The silence was uncharacteristic. Had I hurt her feelings? Unlikely, I thought, but still....

“Yes, we did step five. It was the greatest 30 seconds of my life.” I said, pausing, expecting a laugh. Wendy mumbled something about me needing to do my paper and said goodbye.

“Hey Fab, hold up.” It was Benney Farmer. We had become seat mates in a history class the year before. The instructor insisted on seating us alphabetically so there we were in the F section, Benney was behind me. I had not seen him since the class. “What’s up?” I asked, a little annoyed at being stopped, my next class was on the far side of the campus and I was invariably late getting there. 

“Are you going to the game?” 

“Football?” I laughed, “Is that why you stopped me?” 

“Remember Sandy Merrid?” he asked, a look of excitement on his face.

I blinked. Of course I remembered her. She sat across the aisle from me in the class we took together. I nodded.

He must have seen that I was in a hurry so he got right to the point. He and his girlfriend were going to the game on Friday night and needed a date for her friend, Sandy. He already had the tickets.

“Why me?” I grinned, looking for the catch. “Does Sandy know about this?”

“Sure she does,” he said with a confident grin. “She suggested you.”

I agreed to the date and I turned to leave. Benney placed a hand on my shoulder.

“Bring a blanket Fab. It will be cold out there. Think about it, you and Sandy cuddling under a one!” 

Later that day I sotted Sandy. I wondered if it was a coincidence as I we had not seen one another since the last school year. I had forgotten how cute she was; she was a small girl with a narrow face, making it seem long for her body. Her hair was jet black with a silky texture. She spied me and came my way.

Her dark eyes fairly twinkled as she peered up at me and said, “I hear that we’re going to the game with Benney and Joyce.” Her knit sweater had highlighted my day; it clung to her upper torso, accentuating her small breasts.

I did not mention the Friday night date to Wendy when she called. Just because she had invited me over the past two Fridays did not mean she would expect it to be a ritual, would she?

“You weren’t sure about the color of the robe?” Her tone was accusatory as if she was a queen scolding one of her subjects. 

“I was making the whole thing up, remember?”

She let her breath explode and exasperated she said, “Cotton! What am I going to do with you, how am I going to get it right. Can’t you see this is important to me?”

“Cranberry,” I said. “The robe was darker than the night gown but not dark pink or red; I think you would call it cranberry.” Of course I remembered the robe, how it looked, how it felt to the touch and how it always seemed to come open as we danced. “The material was satin,” I added, recalling how it felt.

“Makes sense,” she said. It was evident she believed me. “I guess you weren’t making it up.”

The next day I stopped by the library to check a reference. On the way up the front steps I saw that Sandy was coming down on the far side. She did not see me.

“Sandy,” I yelled to her. As she turned her hair swished across her face before reversing its course and gently coming to rest against her thin neck. 

She ran toward me and stood one step above, very near. We stood eye to eye.

“Is this your free period?” she asked, handing me her books to hold. She raised both arms to the back of her head and with a swift move, rearranged her hair to her liking. She then gave her head another shake and smiled at me.

Sandy placed one hand on my chest, inside the jacket I was wearing. I felt her small hand press against my shirt. She had a mischievous look on her face as if she would give me a shove. I held my ground or step, as it were. 

“Should I bring a blanket Fab, or will you?” 

This would be my first date with a girl my age in a long time. The last one had turned out to be a disaster. I had invited Patsy King to the junior prom. We were both high school juniors and I considered her to be one of the most attractive girls I knew.

It was common knowledge that she had broken up with an older kid named Mike. Patsy accepted and we went to the dance with another couple. After the dance the other guy drove us to a quiet lane. She did not complain but I did, silently.

Mike, the former boy friend, had heard about our upcoming date. At first he ordered me not to go to the prom with Patsy. It was evident to me that she was the one who had done the breaking up. Somehow, Mike was of the opinion that he still had a claim on her but I wanted to test my dancing skills and I wanted to do it with Patsy.

“She’ll know that you had something to do with it if I call off the date,” I reasoned. “Even if I don’t tell her why, she’ll know you are the cause.” I could see the wheels turning.

After some negotiating which was mainly him talking and me listening, him showing me his muscles me watching but we finally came to terms. I was to take Patsy to the dance then home, no detours. It was also agreed that Patsy was not to know of our arrangement.

Finding myself in the back seat of a car with Patsy was not my plan. I had not foreseen the need to tell the driver of my pack with Mike. From my vantage point in the back seat I could hear what was going on up front. It would have been futile to divulge my agreement with Mike. Besides, she was sitting next to me, charming, delectable and willing.

We mimicked what was taking place in the front seat for two hours. My fear of what Mike would do to me was overcome by Patsy’s charms. We locked our tongues together and moved to a prone position on the car seat. I tried to keep a small distance between our bodies to keep her dress and my suit from wrinkling; Patsy did not share my concern. She pressed her body to mine and I knew that she knew of my stiffened cock and exactly where it was pressing against her. I moved my hand from behind her shoulder and slid it along her left side. 

When my hand came to rest on her breast I felt a tooth make contact with my upper lip. I squeezed. 

The tooth increased its pressure. I shifted my hand to the other breast. 

Two teeth had my upper lip in a hold. 

I unfastened two buttons and inserted my hand. 

The hold on my lip became viselike. 

I eased my hand out and backed off.

She loosened her grip on my lip. I tasted blood.

“Undo your bra, I’ll never find the catch!” I whispered. She shoved me to the side and within seconds was back on the seat, reaching for me.

I sucked on her tits for the next hour, contented. It was better than being bitten by this vampire. Patsy moaned, let out little gasps and held my head in place pressing it to her at times, easing up at others.

Her dress had ridden up. I moved my hand up her inner thigh. Her legs opened as much as was possible in the confines of the narrow seat, receptive to my hand. Her pants were soaked with moisture. I eased my hand past them and made contact with her lips, penetrating..... 

A commotion came from the front seat, loud whispers and sound of a hand striking bare skin. Voices were raised followed by the rustle of two teenage bodies stiring.

Startled as if awakening from a dream we froze. We heard the car start and begin to move.

We sat up and tried to rearrange our clothes.

Patsy and I talked about events at school. We spoke mater of factly about a class we were both in. It was as if we had been to a dance together and now we were on the way home.

What happened in the back seat was not the disaster. That came the next day when Mark paid me a visit. He seemed to know everything that had taken place. Not knowing how much he really knew I assured him not much had happened which proved to be a tactical error.

To him ‘not much’ was too much. It was only Marcie’s skill in the use of a broom stick that saved me from a severe beating. She deftly prodded his backside then pulled Mark off me by his ear. Before he left he gave me a last warning. “Never go near my girl again!” I complied. Although, I did consider asking if he wanted to smell my finger.

I did not attend my senior prom. But I went to a dance. Marcie let me borrow her car, the big Buick convertible with four air holes along both sides of the hood. 

Dressed in my new suit I drove the car to the school parking lot. Some of the couples going to the dance may have seen that I did not have a date but I did not care. I walked two blocks to where Mrs. P. picked me up in her station wagon. 

We danced around her upstairs bedroom before, during and after sex. Mrs. P kept the music low and the lights out. When we heard her daughter come home from the dance I snuck out the back door and walked back to the high school to pick up the car. 

“Did you have fun Honey?” Marcie asked as I came through the door.

“Every thing is fine,” I answered. I was telling her what she really wanted to know, that her car was safely home.

“That lawyer friend of yours was here.” Priscilla told me when I got to the shop on Wenesday afternoon.

“Really, did she say what she wanted?” 

“She wanted to use the bathroom in the house.” Pris gave me a coy look.

I was relieved that Wendy did not call. My disposition was such that I would have said things to be regretted later. It was beyond my comprehension as to why she would stop by my home and ask to use the bathroom when I was not there. It was insanity I thought, she only lived six blocks away. I was infuriated with her boldness and her foolish quest for details and with her inquisitive nature.

Thursday passed without incident. I did not see Benney or Sandy at school and Wendy did not call. My rage at her silly stunt was cooling. I looked forward to the football game.

Benney and I made final arrangements. We settled on times and which order for me to pick every one up. I was to pick up Sandy, Benney and then Joyce. He gave me his telephone number in case I got lost or was running late. As we parted Benney shook my hand like an old buddy. It crossed my mind that we hardly knew one another. I suspected that he did not have a car.

Later, when I bumped in to Sandy she was in high spirits. Her mood was infectious as she touched my arm and said, “I just love football, don’t you, Fab?” 

I smiled, withholding my feelings for the game. I considered that ‘Fab’ was not my nickname it had been adopted by Benney. Until now he was the only one who called me that. It was a name I found repulsive. She squeezed my arm as we parted.

“Cotton?” It was the voice I was beginning to adore. Or Abhor?

I grunted and looked at my watch. It was seven fifteen. I was already five minutes late according to the way we planned it. Had I left on time my phone would have gone unanswered. 

“Do you still have that stack of records?, the ones you and Ellen danced to?” Wendy continued as if she knew I was captivated by her every word.

“Didn’t you find them when you were here the other day?”

“Oh that, you sound angry,” she said. From the tone of her voice, I had an idea that she was pouting.

“I can not understand why you needed to use my bathroom, couldn’t you hold it until you got home?”

“I didn’t,” there was a short pause, “use your bathroom that is, for heavens sake, Cotton, I had to see the layout, I had to see your sofa. Don’t you see?” The last sentence was drawn out, almost pleading. 

“I’m not much of a housekeeper, I hope you didn’t see my unmade bed?”

“Will, don’t you?” she said, ignoring my question.

I checked my watch again. Mentally, I formed an excuse to the police, ‘officer, the reason I was speeding is that I am already late to pick up the hottest date you can imagine. We are going to a football game don’t you see. I have two blankets in the back seat.’ 

He would give me a ticket.

“Don’t I what?”

“The records silly. Bring with you about 7:30?”

“It may be 7:45. I’ll need to make a ‘phone call but I believe I know where the records are. They are 45’s, do you have a machine?” I asked, giving no thought to what I was saying.

Benney was beside himself. He cursed me. I could hear his mother in the background; telling him to control his language. “You’ll have to call Sandy,” he aserted. He called Joyce for the number and called me back with it. Benney was still steaming mad.

Sandy was hurt but said she understood the circumstance. I told her our company lawyer had called an emergency meeting. “It’s part of my job,” I explained.

The shade of the robe was a lighter one that I had described as cranberry. The sheen of it looked more like silk than satin. 

‘Little things mean a lot’ was the first song. The material of her robe could have passed as satin and without light, the shade did not matter. The tie came undone as it I slipped my arm under the robe and around her waist. We danced cheek to cheek in our stocking feet. ‘Violets,’ I thought, sniffing her hair. Her lips were receptive. 

‘Say I look nice when I’m not’ ‘Little things mean a lot’

We dispensed with the robe, throwing it on my pants and shirt which had been scattered between the record player and where we danced. The red string at her neck was drawn tight. The red hearts were wrong, they were clustered near the drawstring, Ellen’s hearts had been in a straight line, across her chest. 

I said nothing about the discrepency, knowing it would have ruined the mood. Wendy’s eyes were closed and took no notice as I untied the draw strings and removed them. I slipped one hand inside the night gown. I cupped first one breast, then the other. Wendy reacted with a soft mmmm but I was uncomfortable with the position.

When the arm moved to drop a new record I lifted the gown. Wendy raised her arms to assist me. Before I could bring her close she lifted my T shirt. I raised my arms to accommodate her. My shorts joined the pile of discarded clothes next. We resumed dancing, naked except for our socks.

Wendy’s body was not quite a large as it appeared in the clothes she had a habit of wearing too tight. Her stomach was relatively flat. I explored her butt cheeks. They were ample and made for groping. We had slowed our movement to a gentle sway. 

I was uncomfortable. My cock was wedged between us like a brittle bar of candy.

The damned loveseat was not going to work. Unlike the couch at my house, the armrest rose disproportionately to the size of the rest of the piece. I pondered the problem as I guided Wendy toward the loveseat. I was stumped.

But Wendy and considered the situation. As we collapsed on the small piece of furniture I discovered a large pillow had been placed next to the armrest; this raised her butt high enough to clear the obstacle. I marvelled at her ingenuity. I wondered if she had tried the setup, a dry run so to speak. 

Knowing Wendy’s obsession with detail, I searched my memory. The steps I had decided was the key to success.

I planted a series of kisses on her neck, careful to return to her lips as I caressed her tits. Her arms were latched on to my back. I had to break her hold before moving down to suck her nipples. They were taut in seconds and Wendy moaned her approval. My hands moved over her stomach like a baker kneading dough. 

Backing up, I was rewarded with relief. My cock had reached the end of the loveseat and was waving in the air. Kneeling, I planted a wet kiss on her inner thighs and made and I made my way toward the prize. 

When I placed a finger at her entrance and parting the lips Wendy’s hips trashed and a leg flew high into the air, crashing into my kidney on the way back down. 

She was obvious to the pain she had rendered and after a few seconds so was I.

That smell again of violets. She had bathed in it. Wendy’s legs were thick, strong and sweaty, hendering my hearing. As I lapped the violets I thought I heard an incoherent stream of praise. There...more...do it more...don’t stop..oh...oh.. Stimulated by the verbal appause, I asaulted her pussy with my tongue; first one finger, then two.

Her entire butt came off the pillow, eclipsed only by a shriek that I was certain would bring the police. Her body rolled like a desert tumbleweed. I withdrew my fingers. Her hands which had been holding my head in place, relaxed. I used this lull in the action to retrieve the rubber. On my knees and still between Wendy’s legs at the end of the love seat, I dressed my cock.

“Step five,” Wendy commanded. She had recovered and was tugging at my head. I crawled up to be even with her face. She took my head in her hands and guided me to her lips. It was a moment of rapture, for both of us.

“What did Ellen say?” Wendy murmured. She was barely audible because of her lack of breath. I tried to recall what had been said, I did know it was not ‘step five’.

“Are you prepared?” I answered truthfully. She wanted to know if I had protection.

Wendy’s eyes opened. Astonishment filled her face.

“What was your answer?”

“I said that I didn’t.” I answered truthfully.

The coffee table broke my fall. That delicate, polished and expensive piece of furniture that I had admired last week was not as delicate as I had thought.

The power generated by her left arm and left leg rivalled that of the defensive tackle who was tossing our quarterback aside at that same moment. 

Wendy’s rage was still evident when I regained consciousness. My head had taken a blow from the corner of the table and my back felt as if a hatchet had been buried there.

“You despicable Bastard! Your ineptitude is sooo immature.” She screamed at me.




Wendy Ch. 03



Part Three—House Rules

Morning came early for Wendy, as it turned out. I had a business meeting downtown at nine, and I wanted to be sure that Wendy understood the rules before I left, otherwise she’d find herself right back in the restraints in no time. I didn’t really want that. Sure, I got off on it. Almost any straight male would, and so would a lot of women out there, whether anyone cared to admit it or not. But I wasn’t really running an S/M house here, unless it was specifically requested, of course.

No, I’d paid a lot of money for Wendy, and I was hoping to bring her around to my way of thinking a little more gently. After all, if I’d wanted a cheap piece of ass to use up and throw away, I could have had it for the price of some crack or heroin, and an hour or two cruising the streets in a big city. No, abuse for its own sake was not my game, and I wanted to be sure Wendy didn’t earn any more of it while I was gone for the day. 

So at seven o’clock, showered, shaved, and dressed in yet another of my impeccable Armani suits, I entered the bathroom of the Rose suite. Wendy was still hanging there, of course. I’m not sure if she was dozing or unconscious. Either way, she was unaware of me as I released the cuffs on her ankles. She didn’t react until I wrapped the thick bath sheet I’d picked up around her torso. I felt her tense up as I wrapped my arm around her waist firmly from behind, to support her as I released the restraints holding her arms above her head. 

I spoke into her ear. “Wendy, just relax. I’m going to release you, and I’m going to carry you into the next room and put you on the bed, because I don’t think you’ll be able to walk. Then I’m going to explain the house rules to you so that you won’t get into any trouble while I’m gone today.” I was as gentle as possible. Not only was Wendy valuable merchandise, but I figured that after Juana’s unfortunate (but necessary) brutality, a little bit of my “good cop” persona would go a very, very long way with Wendy.

I settled Wendy on the bed, where she immediately curled into a semi-fetal position on her side. She wasn’t crying, which was a good sign, or maybe she was just dehydrated. I hit the intercom toggle. “Brian, send breakfast to the Rose suite around noon. Lots of liquids, nothing too heavy. Our new girl hasn’t eaten or had anything to drink since yesterday sometime.” I didn’t wait for an answer. There was always someone manning the kitchen between five am and midnight or so. 

Instead I settled myself in a chair next to the king size bed, which was a feminine-looking, net-canopied affair, complete with rose silk duvet and gold brocade throw pillows. Every woman who used this room came to love it. Wendy hadn’t even noticed it yet, which was surprising to me. Usually poor girls had quite a hunger for material objects, and I was hoping Wendy’s lack of interest didn’t mean she was one of those religious freaks who disdained all the worldly comforts. All things considered, it was a distinct possibility, although I wasn’t too worried. I’ve always loved a challenge, which is why I’m so successful.

“Wendy, are you listening? If you are, I want you to tell me why you think you’re here. You can speak freely without any fear of punishment.” I needed to know just what level of innocence I was dealing with. She took her time to answer, sneaking looks at me beneath those long brown lashes. I was startled all over again by the bright turquoise of her eyes. 

Finally she answered. “I think you must be my punishment from God. I didn’t want to get married. I wanted to go to college. So God has punished me by making me into a slave. I’ll probably have to be some sort of harlot. I’ll go to hell and it’s my own fault for not honoring my father and for rebelling against his wishes.”

This was an interesting viewpoint, but at least she had a firm grasp of the essential facts. It was more than I’d expected. And she wasn’t hysterical, although maybe she was just too tired to manage it. “That’s correct, in a way. Although I hope in time you’ll come to see that this is not a punishment from God. But you’re right that I’ve bought you to be one of my “harlots,” although I would like you to use the term “ladies” instead. There is no shame in prostitution, although you may have trouble accepting that right now. And although I expect you to pay back the money I spend on you, once that’s done you may go free.”

“If you do well here, you may even be able to attend college classes during the day, even before you have paid me back. In fact, I require it, once I am sure I can trust you. You see, I have no serious interest in ignorant slaves, nor do my friends who spend their nights here. We prefer cultured, intelligent women who love every aspect of sexuality just as much as we do ourselves, and who fuck us completely willingly.” Wendy flinched at the profanity, but she’d get used to it soon enough. After what she’d just been through, I was surprised she had even reacted. Clearly, she was very sensitive. But I figured I’d forge ahead while I had her attention.

“That’s the broad overview. Now, down to the specifics. It is possible to run away from here. It’s been done. But it’s no use going to the local police. In fact, they’re regular guests here, and if they pick you up, they’ll return you to me. They certainly won’t be filing any charges against me. The best you can hope for, if you leave, is to end up in a shelter, on Welfare. I hope you won’t try it. It’s really quite pleasant here, especially compared to that life.”

“As far as day-to-day existence for you right now, I want you to understand two things. First of all, any disobedience will be severely punished, as you have already learned. Secondly, you will more or less set your own pace in your sexual education, which I will personally oversee. Nobody will ask you to do anything that you haven’t already done with me, nor will they help you experiment without my permission. They know I have a taste for being the first, you see. And I trust everyone here completely. So you are safe sexually until you choose to try something, with me.”

“However, there will be no attempt to shield you from reality. You may expect to see, hear, and smell sex all around you, at any moment of the day, as you go through your duties. Even in the kitchen, which is where you’ll be assigned to work during your training period. Everyone works here, you see. Especially if they’re not contributing to the actual business, all my ladies are expected to assist with the housekeeping. So even if nobody touches you, you will be learning every moment what is expected of you.”

“As I said, you may proceed at your own pace with your training. But it’s only fair to make you aware of the consequences of moving too slowly. Let me explain our financial system here, to you. You are expected to pay back what I paid for you, which was $4,600. You also pay for your room, board, clothing and supplies. Housekeeping work is rewarded at $10 an hour, which seems like a good wage until you realize that your daily bill in a luxurious establishment like this comes to $250 a day. So you see, if you’re not fucking, you’re sinking further and further into debt.”

Wendy looked terrified now. She was sitting up, back against the headboard, and she was listening intently to every word. She didn’t seem confused. That was good. Maybe there was a mind under all that religious nonsense. We were almost done with the nitty-gritty details, and I was glad to see I wasn’t going to have to repeat myself. I find just explaining it all to be tedious enough.

“Now, if you are fucking, or at least learning, the reality isn’t nearly so grim. Even training is paid handsomely, as I have a definite taste for innocent virgins like you. Your first fuck is worth $1000. The first time you come when I fuck you, I’ll credit $2000 towards your account. Your first decent blowjob is another $1000, as is the first time I watch you fuck another woman to orgasm. And when you let me fuck your ass, it’s $3000. There are other, more specialized things that you may also earn bonuses for, if you find you enjoy them during training. We’ll discuss those as they come up.” 

“After your training, you’ll service whoever wants you, to the tune of $500 a night credited to your account.” Never mind what I charge, that’s how much of it goes to the girls. “So if you learn quickly and work hard, you can leave here in as little as a month. Although, let me explain that it all has to be completely willing. If you’re not enjoying it, it doesn’t count. So if you do manage to get out of debt in a month, you’ll be a naturally talented little whore, and I seriously doubt you’ll even want to leave.”

I had one more thing to point out, just to put it into perspective for Wendy. “I want you to consider, Wendy, that you would do all these things for a husband, Mormon or not. And a man like your father would have chosen for you, a man like that wouldn’t necessarily care about your pleasure. He certainly would not take any precaution to keep you from having baby after baby, year after year, until you were so worn out that all you wanted to do was to crawl into a ditch and die. I think you know that, don’t you? Once you can get over your religious objections, I am sure you’ll thank me for bringing you here. Now, do you have any questions? You may ask anything you wish.”

“What if I never feel ready to do all these sexual things at all? Do I have to stay here forever? I could never pay you back at $10 an hour. I already owe you $4,850 just for today. My beliefs tell me I must honor my obligation, because my father gave me to you. I will try to obey you as I would a husband. But I believe that to do these things, without marriage, is a sin. I don’t know if I can do it. Will I be a slave here until I die?”

Wendy was smart. Good. “No, if you truly are unable to bring yourself to do any of this, after a month, we’ll move you to quarters in the attic, and drop your bill down to $40 a day. But you’ll be doing heavy housekeeping work, 10 hours a day, six days a week, and you won’t be living in luxury, in fact it will be quite the contrary, although you’ll get a dollar raise every six months. So it will be possible, that way, to pay off your indebtedness eventually.”

“However, Wendy, I want you to withold judgement about what you believe you can and can’t do, for a few days. Help Brian in the kitchen, watch, and learn. For this month, it is expected that you will sleep until noon. Please be in the kitchen helping Brian by 1pm. There is a nightgown in the closet, along with some clothes. You are expected to wear whatever I tell you to, and obey any non-sexual command given to you by anyone in the house.”

“Brian is your supervisor, and you may ask him any questions that come to mind. If you refuse an order, talk back to anyone, or are caught trying to leave the grounds, you will be placed back in the restraints until I feel like personally punishing you. You will not be punished for honest mistakes, but rebellion is not tolerated. Do you have any other questions?” 

“Just one. May I have my Scriptures with me?”

“No. I am sorry, Wendy, but the one thing absolutely forbidden in my house is any sort of religious literature. I expect you to overcome your unhealthy reliance on religion, and learn to think for yourself. You may read anything else you like in the library on the third floor, after your workday is complete. Just so you know, all your belongings have been disposed of anyway. My staff tells me you had no photographs or mementos, and none of your clothing was appropriate.”

“I will try to obey, sir.” Wendy repeated this affirmation in a resigned tone of voice. “Please be patient with me.”

“I will, Wendy. And you may call me James. Watch and learn, and remember you only have a month, at most, to decide.” I stood and walked towards the door to my suite.

“Yes, sir. I mean, James.” Wendy blushed slightly as she met my gaze, peering up at me through her thick lashes with head slightly bowed. I took it as a good sign. I still had a half an hour before I needed to leave for my meeting, though, so once I was back in my suite, I settled into my chair and flipped on the cameras that would show me Wendy’s every move.

Wendy was still sitting on the bed. Her face wore the look of one having a terrible internal struggle. She bowed her head and I saw her lips move, presumably in prayer. Then Wendy rose from the bed and entered the bathroom. I followed, switching cameras. She walked through, flinching slightly as her gaze fell on the shower. She entered the walk-in closet, still clutching the rose bath sheet around her body. It reached from her chest nearly to the floor, as she was quite petite.

Wendy gazed at the nightgown on its satin hanger. It was cut modestly, floor length, with a high neck and long sleeves, very much like a little girl’s flannel Victorian nightie. It even had ruffles at the neck and sleeve cuffs, and a button placket down the front.  However, it was made of a completely sheer fabric, in the same soft shade of rose as the suite, and the buttons were gold. If one were to look closely, they might even observe that the buttons had been relief-cast with depictions of sexual positions from the Kama Sutra. I knew it, having selected the nightgown myself, but Wendy did not notice as she stood there, gnawing her lower lip in hesitation.

“I promised to obey. I have to wear what James says I should wear.” Wendy spoke her thought aloud. She hesitantly removed the bath sheet wrapped around her petite form, folding it carefully and bending to lay it gently on the floor. I got a nice shot of her cunt and ass from behind as she did so. Her knees didn’t bend, indicating she was quite flexible. Yet another good sign. 

Wendy straightened up and reached for the hanger, carefully unbuttoning the nightie and slipping it down. The curtain rods were hung a bit high for her, having been designed to accommodate any sort of exotic costume, including old-fashioned dresses with long skirts and trains. I enjoyed the arch of Wendy’s back and the way her breasts moved as she stretched a bit to reach. I was, of course, stroking my cock as I watched, having been aroused since I entered the bathroom to release Wendy from the restraints. I’d tried to conceal it while playing “good cop.” I glanced at my watch. Twenty minutes. 

Still visible on the big screen TV, Wendy gathered up the nightgown and slipped it over her head, floundering a bit to find the arm openings. I hit my intercom switch as I watched her fumble with the buttons, finally fastening the nightgown, and walk back through to the bedroom, where she stretched out on her back, on top of the bedspread. The thermostat in the suite was still set at 85, and I made a mental note to leave it there so she’d have no need to crawl under the covers. I spoke into the intercom. “Brynn, I need you in my suite, please.” 

Onscreen, Wendy tossed and turned a bit. The sheer nightgown was slipping against the silk sheets, sliding upward almost to her thighs. Wendy kept sliding around a bit as she tried to find a comfortable position. Then, as I watched, stunned but pleased, she began sliding quite deliberately on top of the silk. She seemed to enjoy the way it felt against her skin. 

The nightgown was still sliding higher and higher, and soon Wendy’s bare ass was wriggling delightfully against rose colored silk. Her knees bent, pulled up, and spread slightly as her ass wiggled, heels digging in for traction. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. This was my little Mormon girl? What else had she wanted to do, besides attending college? What would she be like, once the old habits of guilt and shame wore off? 

Wendy’s hands moved guiltily, furtively, to her breasts, and she began caressing them, paying special attention to the lower curves, and occasionally rolling her nipples gently between her fingers. She did this guiltily, but with the unmistakable air of one who is familiar with her own body. No wonder the girl thought she was being punished for her sins. It was strictly forbidden for Mormons to masturbate. She must have been afraid of damnation for quite some time now!

My suite door had opened and shut unnoticed, and Brynn, needing no instructions, had knelt in front of my chair, unbuttoning her shirt to expose her breasts as she waited for me. She was already dressed for her 10am class at Boise State University, where she was majoring in Economics. A stunning redhead with small, firm breasts, today she was wearing a green button front shirt (well, sort of wearing it) and a black pleated skirt which barely covered her pert little ass. She wore no bra or panties, and as she waited on her knees, she raised the skirt, lying backward and resting her head on the floor so that her body was arched at an angle that looked like it should hurt. I knew it didn’t, though. 

Brynn did Yoga and Pilates every day, and as she spread her thighs wide and began to toy with her pussy, I was impressed once again with her gracefulness. Brynn’s pussy was waxed and completely hairless, and I watched as one finger gently circled her clit, occasionally dipping down to her cunt and bringing some moisture up to rub on the sensitive button. Her other hand moved over her exposed breasts much as Wendy was doing on the big screen.

No, wait. Wendy now had both hands between her legs! Two fingers were plunging in and out of her dripping cunt even as I watched, stunned. The other hand rubbed somewhat awkwardly up, down, and around her clit. I noticed she never went near her ass, though, and resolved to make her aware of it as one of my first priorities. I could hear her panting, moaning slightly, but also whispering, “no, I should stop. I shouldn’t do this,” without much conviction in her voice. 

Even as I watched, stunned, she screamed slightly, shoving her fingers deep in her cunt as her other hand rubbed frantically at her clit. I grinned as I watched her shudder and gasp, finally going still, eyes staring up at the ceiling, still panting quite hard. Her hands were dripping with moisture when she finally removed them from her pussy and just laid there, legs spread-eagled. Her eyes were half shut and I was certain she’d be asleep in minutes. I hoped she remembered to eat her breakfast when she woke.

Below me, Brynn was still stroking her pussy as slowly as she could bear, although I noticed she’d gotten a bit faster despite her best efforts. Her pussy was so wet, there was moisture dripping down her thighs and onto the carpet below her. I took pity on Brynn at last. Kneeling, I moved her hand away and spread her pussy lips with my own hands. It took maybe three gentle swipes of my long tongue at her engorged clitoris, and then Brynn, too, was shuddering with delight. It never took her long to come, which was why I called her when I was in a hurry.

“On the bed, Brynn, quickly.” She obeyed, sliding her ass down to the edge and raising her legs. I stood at the edge of the bed , removed my suit jacket, and allowed my pants to fall around my ankles. I lifted her ankles, placing them over my shoulders. One more glance at my watch confirmed I had only five minutes until I needed to leave. It was a shame. 

I sheathed myself to the hilt in Brynn’s warm, tight cunt, and began to thrust quickly, running my hands up and down her long, flexible legs as I did so. She licked her lips sensually, writhing slightly, hands still playing with the nipples on her bouncing tits. Brynn then began encouraging me, thrusting her hips and gasping, “fuck me, James, shove your big dick up my cunt as hard as you can. It feels so good.” I was more than happy to oblige her. 

Brynn came again just as I did, screaming loudly. "“God, James, I love your COCK!” Wendy should have been able to hear that in the next room, although a glance at the screen confirmed that she was asleep, nightgown still disarranged, giving me a great view of her pussy and light-brown pubic hair, still damp and glistening between her splayed legs.




Wendy Ch. 03



I dismissed Brianna and neatened my appearance quickly in my own bathroom, before making a dash for the front door, where my car was waiting. Much as I wanted to stay and explore the enigma that was Wendy, I had a skyscraper to erect downtown, and a never-ending series of meetings with Planning and Zoning. I’d be home soon enough, and I’d hear from Wendy what her day had been like. I couldn’t wait to hear her blushingly describe everything she would see, today.



Wendy Ch. 03



Wendy knew Jim had kissed her before he left for work that Monday morning but could not seem to be able to escape her sleep. Mental turmoil had had kept her awake for a long portion of the night.

Much later Mike announced breakfast was ready and she finally stirred but was somewhat surprised to note Karen was in bed with her. When they got up they noticed that Mike was dressed so they dressed too.

As they ate breakfast Karen asked her Aunt Wendy when she knew she was in love with Jim.

It never occurred to Wendy to deny she was and simply searched her mind for the correct answer.

After a few moments she answered, "The first time I saw him." 

"Funny," Mike said. "That's what Dad said when I asked him the same question about you this morning."

Karen said, "That's a hell of a lot less time than it took you!"

"Funny, Dad said that too, although it is not true. It took me a long time to accept I was in love with you but in reality I fell in love with you when you walked past me with a possum in your arms."

"Really?" Karen said. "I picked up the possum just so you would notice me. I guess it worked."

Wendy watched as Mike and Karen kissed each other lovingly as she felt her own happiness begin to exude through her pores. Jim had confessed to his son that he was in love with her.

After they ate breakfast Mike and Karen drove Wendy to her townhome. She was stunned by how unfamiliar, how foreign her home of ten years felt. She was mostly in a haze as she spent her first work hours daydreaming. Her reveries were interrupted later that morning when Mike and Karen came in. Karen handed Wendy a house key on an intertwined heart's lover's key chain. 

Mike said, "That is a key to the house. Dad told me to tell you Mi casa es tu casa. His home is your home."

Wendy stood there with a blank expression on her face, her mind had short circuited a bit. Karen asked, "Would you like for us to move you in now?"

Wendy snapped out of her fog and trembled as she said, "I am sure he would not want an old broad to just invade his man cave."

Mike said, "You are right there, no old broads for him. It is you he wants in the house. He said anytime you are ready as long as it is soon."

Wendy burst into tears, which scared Mike until he remembered that Karen cried when he asked her to move in with him.

Wendy searched her mind for logic, for a reasonable argument to delay what she knew was inevitable, what she knew she wanted more than anything.

Karen put her hand out. Wendy numbly placed her townhome key in it.

Six hours later she closed the shop but before leaving in her car she had to sit through a crying spell. She knew it was just a release of nerves so she allowed the tears to flow until she had regained self-control.

When she walked through the door and walked into her townhouse she immediately became disoriented. Her furniture was gone. All the pictures on every wall were gone. Her pantry and refrigerator were empty, and her small appliances were gone. Her bedroom was empty and her workshop was empty. The only thing remaining in the entire townhouse was the shower curtain.

She was just lost. She stopped in the living room and took a deep breath.

"Nobody lives here," she muttered to herself.

Wendy drove to her new home, Jim's home. 

When she arrived she saw that Karen and Mike where in the hot tub in the middle of "getting better acquainted" so she decided not to interrupt them and surveyed the house. 

Jason's photographs were prominently displayed in the living room walls. She did not remember what if anything had been there before. She did know that they looked better there than they did in her condo. 

She smiled as she remembered hearing of Jason's decision to relocate to Felicity. He loved being in the middle of a large family. He had been an only child and both of his parents had re-married and lived in Europe. He had not heard from either of his parents in over two years. They had now become superfluous to him. As far as he was concerned Wendy's sister Mo was his mother, not his mother. Wendy understood that she was his Aunt Wendy.

Her recliner was next to his with one of her small tables between them. She loved her recliner but knew that she would not be in it as often. She now preferred to sit on Jim's lap on his recliner. Her loveseat complemented his couch, as did her wingback chair. The living room furniture looked like a set and Wendy began to appreciate just how big his house was. Their house.

Wendy went into the kitchen and found that her stuff had seamlessly merged with Jim's. It in fact appeared that she had the small appliances he did not. His pantry was very full as was his refrigerator and freezer. The freezer was missing a duck. The duck she had been saving in her own freezer for a special occasion was defrosting in the sink. 

She smiled at Karen's hint; she knew it was a special occasion duck. Karen had decided that today was a special occasion.

Wendy walked to their bedroom expecting to see a major upheaval. Her dresser was to the wall on what was already her side of the bed as was her night table. Her roses were on it. She just realized that she was so out of it that morning that she had forgotten to take them to work.

Her photographs of the family were on the dresser and the wall above it. Her HDTV was on the wall opposite the bed. That was the extent of the upheaval.

Their dressers clashed but then again his dresser clashed with everything else in the room anyway. She knew that a mostly free weekend was all she would need to fix that little problem. Re-finishing furniture was one of her many skills.

She did expect a major problem in the bathroom, as there was little space for her considerable stuff. However her make up, perfumes, hair dryers and hairbrushes were neatly in a large new cabinet with wide glass doors to the right of the bathroom mirror. His stuff, which had previously just been on the sides of the counter around the sink, was in an identical but smaller cabinet to the left of the mirror. Someone had visited the hardware store. Even better, there was a new shower curtain. It was transparent.

Neither had many clothes that needed to be hung in a closet so there was plenty of room for both of theirs in it although she conceded that her stuff took more than half the space.

She had some "come fuck me" high heels on the floor of the closet that were suddenly an embarrassment. She found an empty box and after putting the shoes in it pushed it to a back corner of the closet. That was when she knew that the Wendy of a week ago probably no longer existed.

Wendy sat on the bed and sighed. She forced herself to calm down. She knew she was not scared. She knew she was not worried, apprehensive nor any of those "I'm-in-over-my-head" dreads.

It suddenly dawned on Wendy that the strong feeling inside of her was excitement. Her new life started that day. The life she had stopped hoping for many years before had just embraced her. 

She was in love with a beautiful man that loved her too. She was half of "A Couple."

Suddenly Wendy started to giggle and continued to giggle off and on for at least five minutes. Tears sometimes joined her giggles but never interrupted them. By the time her fit of happiness ended she had changed clothes and was left with a big grin.

She walked out of her bedroom knowing she was home.

Wendy first checked that Karen and Mike had finished their "exercises" then joined them on the porch. After kissing and thanking them she sat on the swing and called Jim.

"What would you like for supper?" Wendy asked him.

"You."

"That is for dessert. Would roast duck be OK?"

"I love duck. Where are you?"

"On our swing. Karen and Mike are here; they just finished exercising in the hot tub. Did they tell what they did?"

"Yes, they kept in touch with me all day. Do you want me to tell you I love you now or wait until we are naked in bed?"

"Now, before and after dinner, while we shower together, before, during, and after our evening exercise."

"I love you."

"I love you too. At what time will you be home?"

"This is my long day. I will not be back until after seven. I will call you as soon as I am headed south."

"I love you. Be careful. Bye."

During her phone call Mike had gone into the house and a still dripping Karen joined her on the swing.

Karen said, "Jason, Maggie, James and Lucy helped in your move. It went more quickly than I expected and that is why your townhouse is already completely empty. The six of us will return tomorrow to clean it up. Expect Aunt Amanda to have it listed before the weekend. Teachers and pickup trucks are nice to have around if anyone needs to move during the summer, don't you think? 

You may not have noticed yet but this house has four bedrooms, the other three are on the other side of the living room, Mike's room, Jim's office, and one other that was empty. That is where your iMac, desk, worktable and jewelry making stuff are. We took Mike's single bed apart and replaced it with your queen. His is in the storage shed. We put your day bed in your office."

Wendy hugged her wet niece and said, "I will need to do something for all of you soon, a party maybe. I will call James and Maggie now."

After Wendy was done with her phone calls she had invited the six to a sumptuous dinner and wine evening on that Friday night and a cookout for family and friends Saturday night.

"How does it feel?" Karen asked her aunt.

Wendy knew exactly what she was talking about and said, "I am as excited as I have ever been. I just now spent a long time giggling for no reason at all."

Karen said, "I know exactly, I was so giddy Monday night after I moved in with Mike that people thought I was drunk."

"Actually your mother told me you were," Wendy said with a laugh. "How does it feel a week later?"

"Like it has always been and will always be this way. As you may have noticed I love the sex part but it's a lot more than that. Even if he is thirty feet away from me I can feel him. If he is next to me and his hand is not on my ass I bitch about it. He makes detours just to kiss me. I make detours just to kiss him. He even stops the car on the shoulder of the highway just to kiss me."

"I know where that trait came from. I thought Jim and I were going to get arrested before we got here Saturday night. A state trooper slowed down as he drove past us just as Jim ended his kiss as we sat on the shoulder if the highway. Like father like son seems to be a good thing for us."

Karen and Wendy shared an extended kiss and hug that lasted until Mike came out carrying Karen's clothes.

"You are not staying for dinner?" Wendy asked.

"I would not dream of it. We are going to Mom's and tell her the news. Expect lots of phone calls."

"I will turn my phone off now," Wendy joked. Wendy hugged them goodbye and as they drove away a tear suddenly welled in her eye. 

"I have a son" had flashed through her mind.

Her first call as expected was from her sister Mo, Karen and Maggie's mom. They were closer in age and temperament than they were with the other sisters. That call came as she was scoring the duck. She put her phone on speaker and it remained that way the rest of the evening. About half of their conversation was over the type of spices to use on a roasted duck.

The next two, her sisters Martha and Amanda, came as she was rubbing spices on and in the duck. Typically half of their conversations led to disagreements on what to use on a duck. 

Her sister Allison and her best friend Janice were the next two to call. Wendy did not mention that she was preparing a duck to them.

She had answered six calls before she got the duck in the oven. Over the next hour one by one her nieces and nephews called. All complained that her phone was always busy. All were gushing with happiness for her. Wendy reminded herself that her family was the most loving family ever. Her giggles and tears returned.

Jim called an hour later to tell her he would be home in thirty minutes. She decided that yellow rice and green peas would do as side dishes. She took another two calls, one from Janice's daughter Jana and one from her friends Maryanne and Yazmin, and then she turned her cell phone off.

She took the duck out of the oven and allowed it to rest. She had just placed the rice and the peas on the stove but had not turned on the burners when Jim walked in. He brought her roses in a vase. 

Wendy did not try to hold back her tears. She kissed him hard, told him she loved him, and kissed him hard again. They held each other tightly for a minute as Jim told Wendy he loved and adored her.

They eventually released each other and Jim said, "I need a shower."

They kissed one more time then she allowed him to escape her embrace. She placed her flowers on her own dining table and wondered why she had not noticed it there until then. She decided it was because Jim's only table was in the kitchen and his dining area just had one bookcase in it. Her more formal dining set fit perfectly in the space, bookcase and all. "Yes, I am home," she thought.

She returned to the kitchen, checked on the duck and turned on the burners for the rice and peas. After basting the duck with its own juices she turned down the heat under the rice as soon as she saw the water begin to boil and turned her timer on for twenty-two minutes.

She had twenty-two minutes. She was naked and stepping into the shower with Jim before she knew she had a plan. She knelt in front of him and swallowed his cock. Jim's groan was music to her ears. Wendy did not mind sucking cocks but had never allowed a man to cum in her mouth and only once had she allowed any man to spew on her body and that had been over thirty years before.

But the cock in her mouth belonged to Jim. She wanted to give him her best. She ignored his warning and took all of his semen in her mouth. She swallowed.

Jim lifted her to him and kissed her deeply, he wanted her to know that he knew the importance of her gift.

Somewhere in her pink haze Wendy remembered that she was in the middle of cooking. She left the shower and dried her body but did not dress. She opened and drank a coke remembering her big sister Martha telling her it cut through the taste of cum. It did help.

Her rice was ready so she scooped it onto a serving dish and scattered peas over it.

She was setting the table when she saw a shadowy monster come into the porch. Wendy reminded herself of how much her life had changed and took a milk bone out to Celia. 

She seemed not to be even mildly surprised that it was Wendy and not Jim with her treat. After Celia consumed her milk bone Wendy opened the screen door for her and Celia again chirped to her on the way out.

Wendy had dinner plated as a still naked Jim re-joined her. Before they sat they exchanged a long deeply felt kiss. "I love you" each said simultaneously. They kissed again and then sat for their first dinner as a formal couple.

They enjoyed the dinner. Jim said, "I am glad to see that some goddesses can cook. It was the best meal of my life."

Wendy giggled at both parts of his outrageous statement but made sure he knew she appreciated it with a swarm of kisses.

After they put the leftovers in the refrigerator they opened two Dos Equis and went to the porch. Wendy settled against his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around her. They slowly rode the swing and drank their beer.

"How was your day?" Wendy asked Jim for the first of several thousand times.



Wendy Ch. 03



This story is set in England, so the words used are English not American. All characters are over 18. This Chapter follows on from Wendy 02. 

*

It felt very strange watching them and feeling them pushing against me, but also very exciting too, so that when my Aunty let out a long cry that she was cumming, I felt a little explosion between my legs too and joined in their panting.

Uncle was now shouting 'Yes, Yes,' as he continued to ram into her from behind, and Aunty was just gasping, pulling some funny faces as she cried out in pleasure.

I just felt pleased to be able to help her get really nicely pleasured by my stroking of her nipple, but know it was what Uncle Andy was doing that was making the real difference.

Suddenly he let out a huge cry, and began to move much faster in and out of his wife's body. I knew he was shooting his cum into her, so watched the both of them as they enjoyed the moment, squeezing my Aunt's nipple as hard as I could. 

They did look a happy couple, my Aunt still dressed in her twinset and panties, and my Uncle naked behind her, pushing in an out as the two of them enjoyed Uncle Andy's present. 

It had been so nice of them to welcome me so lovingly, that I felt quite at home in my new University home...

After dinner we all went to bed early that night, and I think I must have fallen asleep before my head touched the pillow. There were so many things to think about - so many sensations to remind myself of - and so much a feeling of total pleasure with my kind Aunt and Uncle. Of course I'd phoned my mother to let her know all was well, and then she'd had a chat with them both too, so it was with a wonderful feeling of peace and happiness that I slept that night. 

The next morning I awoke to the smell of bacon frying, and my nostrils twitched with anticipation. Was this breakfast cooking downstairs? I got out of bed and slipped off my nightie, feeling somehow exposed but almost relishing the thought. I stretched then got up for a shower.

As I dried myself afterwards I wondered just what I should wear. It was Sunday so I'd be staying in, but did that mean I should be naked like my Aunt and Uncle? Or should I dress normally to hide myself from their stares?

Then I remembered that Auntie had said something about wearing a cardie to keep warm, so I decided to wear a long grey cardie that I'd brought with me, as it reached down to my hips. 'That should keep me hidden,' I thought to myself, 'while obeying their rules too.'

It did feel a bit funny to be slipping the cardie on without any bra or panties, but the soft wool felt nice and warm against my skin. I snuggled myself, and pulled the cardie closed, buttoning up the top three buttons to hide my breasts from their view. I checked in the mirror and was a bit horrified to realise how short the cardie was - you could actually see my private hairs peeking out below the welt. But it was that or nothing, so I felt it would have to do. Then, having brushed my hair, I went downstairs.

The kitchen was at the back of the house, so I walked through the hallway to the door, smiling as the bacon smell got stronger and my taste buds reminded me I was hungry. As I opened the door I saw Uncle Andy sitting at the table, reading the paper, while Aunt Maude was at the far side with her back towards me, frying the bacon. Uncle was - of course - naked but I could only see his chest with the paper and table in front of him. Auntie was wearing a cardigan too - so I had made the right choice! - but hers was a short white chunky cable knit cardie which came just below her waist, showing off her rounded naked bottom as she tended the cooker.

"Ah hello Wendy!" smiled Uncle Andy, putting the paper down. "Did you sleep well?"

"Hello both!" I smiled back, seeing how Auntie had turned to see me, smiling as I spoke.

"You look lovely in that cardie!" beamed Auntie, "Now just come and give me a morning kiss please my love!"

So I went across the kitchen towards her, while she wiped her hand on a towel, turning to face me. I was surprised to see her cardie was completely unbuttoned, hanging open with her large breasts gently wobbling as she moved.

As we met she pulled me to her in a big hug, and kissed me firmly on the lips. I felt a tingle inside, and somehow my mouth opened as her tongue slipped in to greet mine. She seemed to flick around inside me as her hands stroked around my waist. It was lovely but made me get a little squidgy at the same time.

As she pulled back, she smiled again. "We always have a morning kiss, don't we Andy? So now you should give your Uncle one too."

So I went over to Uncle Andy who stood up to greet me, obviously showing off his naked body with his knob hanging down, looking quite long and fat I thought.

"Good morning to my favourite niece!" he smiled, drawing me too him as Auntie had done, except this time I could feel his knob brushing against my thigh. I smiled as he brought his head towards me, and kissed me on the lips. I knew what I should do, so opened my mouth to let him put his tongue into mine, noticing a push against my thigh as he did so. I felt a bit naughty too, as Auntie was standing so close and watching us both.

As he separated, his hands slipped down the sides of my cardie to my naked hips.

"Well you do look nice in that cardie, Wendy," he said, stepping back, "And I'm really glad that you are fitting in with our rules, but really a cardigan should be worn unbuttoned, like Auntie Maude's, so that the air can get to your breasts. Would you like to unbutton it now, or should Auntie do it for you?"

"Oh - it's OK Uncle," I said, feeling a bit embarrassed, both by his words and by his knob which was now pointing outwards towards me. "I'll undo them myself - I didn't quite realise what your rules meant."

Very self consciously, I undid the buttons, then just let my cardie hang open. It still covered my breasts, but I felt I'd done what he asked.

"How's that?" I asked.

"Well that's lovely," smiled Aunt Maude, "but I think you need to pull the cardie open so we can see your dear breasts. After all, you've been looking at my tits, haven't you? Do you like seeing them all loose and liberated in the kitchen?" "Why Aunt, your breasts - or should I call them tits? - look lovely. I'm afraid mine are just so small in comparison." I replied, and obeying her words I opened my cardie, feeling their gazing at my breasts as I did so.

"Why yours are quite gorgeous, pet," soothed Auntie, "and titties or breasts doesn't matter, it's whatever words you want. I love your wispy hairy mound too - doesn't she look a picture, Andy?"

"Well she's certainly a welcome sight in the morning, and that's for sure!" smiled Uncle Andy, and he reached down to his knob, somehow pulling it so it stuck out even more.

"Ah yes of course!" said Aunt Maude, looking at her husband's erection. "He's been waiting for his morning tossing till you got down, Wendy. I did offer him his usual in bed this morning, but he said he'd rather wait for you! You are a lucky girl, aren't you? So tell me how you like your eggs cooking and I'll do them while you give Uncle Andy a quick toss."

I couldn't quite think how or what to say, so eventually managed: "Just fried will be fine for me, Auntie. And only one egg, thank you, not two."

Auntie turned away to get back to the cooker, while Uncle Andy just stood still, hands on hips, with his cock pushing out towards me.

"Do you want to sit down, Uncle, or stay standing up?" I asked, not knowing quite what he wanted.

"Oh I think standing up will be fine for my morning quickie," he smiled. "I'll just keep my hands on my hips while you toss me. I'm sure Auntie will be wanting to keep an eye on us too!"

So knowing what I had to do, I moved closer to Uncle, and reached out to wrap my fingers around his stiff cock. 

It felt so warm, and so hard inside, just like last time. Uncle let out a gasp when my fingers first gripped him, but his smile meant that I was doing him right. So I cupped my other hand under his balls - which felt so funny being baggy and hairy, yet with interesting lumps inside. He seemed to like my fingers stroking him, so I moved my hand faster up and down his knob, enjoying watching his face as he got excited by it.

It felt as if I was in control of him in some way, just by stroking his penis and balls. It was as if he would do anything for me right now. I pulled my hand up and down his cock more quickly.

"Do you like this, Uncle, " I asked. "Am I doing it right?"

"Oh yes, Wendy, you are doing very well indeed. I just love what you are doing with your fingers."

He put his hands behind his head, somehow showing off even more as I worked his knob up and down, stroking his thighs and squeezing his balls.

"Isn't she a good girl, Maude?" he panted, "I think she'll have me done before the eggs!"

Auntie looked round to watch me tossing off her husband, and smiled. "Well the eggs will be a couple of minutes yet, so I hope you can cum before then as you wouldn't want your eggs hard, now would you?"

Then she added, looking at me, "I should just hold your cardy under his cock, so you can catch his cum in it. It might stretch it a bit, but that's easier to wash then cleaning it up off the carpet. And we can talk about other ways of catching his cum later after breakfast!"

So I did as Auntie suggested, loosing my hand from under his balls to pull a corner of my cardy out and under his knob (or cock, as Auntie now called it - she did seem to give it so many names!).

Now I had two hands on his cock, and he was panting quite hard, with little tears showing a the end of his knob, which I wiped carefully with my cardie. Last time his cum had shot up into the air, so I didn't quite know where it would go this time - but I'd be finding out quite soon.

"Oh Wendy!" he panted, "You are getting me so worked up. Just do it now, girl, take me faster and harder and I'll spunk up all over your cardie!"

His words encouraged me, so I gripped his cock hard, and began squeezing tightly up and down, up and down, until I heard a big cry and at the same time saw a huge spurt of his cream shoot out from his knob, and land half way up may cardie!

As I kept on pumping so more splashes came out, making creamy blobs all down the side of my cardie. I was pleased to catch them all, and smiled as he looked straight into my eyes.

"Oh God!" he panted, "You are just so fantastic at tossing me off, Wendy. I can't believe you've not done it lots before!"

His cock was still quite hard, so I kept on pumping more slowly as the last dribble came out onto the soft wool of my cardie. It would definitely need a wash now!

"No, Uncle," I said, almost hurt by his suggestion. "I've only ever done this twice - you on the sofa yesterday, and now here in the kitchen!"

"I'm sorry," he replied, "I didn't mean to say your were a loose woman, it's just that you're very good at masturbating me. Auntie is good too, of course, but she's had years of practice."

Now his knob was getting floppy, and the cum on my cardie was dribbling down a little, so I carefully wiped the last dribbles from the end of his cock, and gently released it from my grip.

Auntie looked round again. "Well that was good timing, Wendy, because breakfast is now ready. I think you should just take off your cardie and put it straight in the washing machine. I'll sort it out after we've eaten. And well done for catching all his spunk - it's sometimes tricky when it splashes everywhere, isn't it?" 

"I think I was quite lucky, because I was holding it firmly so it all squirted in the same direction." I smiled, "But my cardie certainly needs a wash now!"

I walked over towards the washing machine, and just slipped my cardie off, making sure Uncle's cum didn't drip off, before pushing the wool into the washing machine.

Suddenly I was naked in front of them, but somehow it didn't matter. After all, Uncle had been looking at my breasts when I tossed him, and Auntie had seen me very closely yesterday. So maybe it was going to be alright to be a nudist!

I sat down at the table in the place opposite Uncle, while Aunt Maude brought the plates over to the table. There was bacon, egg, fried bread and fried tomatoes too. My favourite weekend breakfast!

I loved the way Auntie's breasts wobbled as she walked over, they were just so big compared with mine. There again her tummy was fatter than mine too, and she was much older than me, so probably that was the reason. But I couldn't help staring at her lovely dark nipples, framed so nicely by the white wool of her chunky cardigan. It was nice to see her mound too, where her hairy body disappeared between her legs. All in all, it was going to be lovely stopping with such a nice Aunt and Uncle.

We ate breakfast, talking about the news and the weather. I did notice Uncle staring at my breasts from time to time - but there again, he stared at Auntie's too. That was only normal, after all. And Auntie put her hand on my knee under the table at one point - but that was nice too.

After we'd finished there was toast and marmalade and cups of tea all round, and it made me smile watching aunt Maude as she walked around - her rounded pink bottom such a contrast to her cardigan, and then the cardie such a nice frame to her wobbling breasts as she walked back.

When we'd finished, it was Uncle who spoke first.

"Right you girls can go and have a sit down while I do the washing up."

"Shouldn't I do it?" I asked, wanting to seem helpful.

"No!" he smiled, "You've done enough work already! Besides, you're our guest so we need to look after you. And I think Aunt Maude wants to make you nice and comfy next door, don't you dear?"

Aunt Maude smiled as her husband got up from the table to carry the plates over to the sink.

"Yes, I think that you deserve a special treat after that hard work you did tossing off Andy. So why don't we girls go into the lounge for a little relax..." 

And with that she winked at me, and got up from the table, beckoning me to follow her.

I felt naked again as I stood up - maybe as Uncle did seem to like looking at me - and it was a bit chilly when we moved into the lounge.

"It's not so warm in here, is it Auntie?" I said.

"No," she replied, "I'll just put the fire on, but while the room warms up why don't you slip my cardie on? I'm still quite hot from being close to the stove." 

And with that she slipped off her cardie, and held it out for me to put on. So feeling a bit strange, I slipped my arm down one of the sleeves, then the other, and Auntie pulled it up for me. I could smell a little of her perfume on it as I pulled the cardie together over my breasts, while Auntie, now naked, lit the gas fire. 

I sat on the sofa as she stood up and walked back over, her breasts somehow wobbling more as her hands hung by her side.

"So are you nice and comfy now, pet?" she asked. "But you're hiding your tits away from me." and she pulled a funny face.

"Oh Auntie, I'm sorry!" I said, opening her cardie so she could see me. "I didn't know you wanted to look too."

"But of course I do," she smiled. And I want you to lie back like you did yesterday, with your legs wide apart for me, so I can see you all properly."

Again it felt a bit strange, but as it was my Auntie it was obviously alright. So I lay back sideways on the sofa, with my head on one arm and my legs just reaching on the other, then opened my legs so that one foot rested on the floor. I was letting Auntie see my secret place again. And she was watching me very closely, smiling to herself.

She knelt down in the middle of the sofa, and then leaned over me so her breasts rubbed against my tummy, then moved her head closer to mine.

"Did you like me playing with you yesterday, my dear?" she asked.

"Why yes, Auntie." I replied, "I wondered what you were going to do, but somehow it all felt so lovely when you kissed me and finger..."

I broke off as she'd moved her head right up to mine and started kissing me. Her hands were wrapped around my sides, so I cuddled her too, opening my mouth as I knew I should to let her tongue come inside me.

She did like kissing me, and I felt all strange again as her tongue played with mine, and her fingers stroked up and down my body. She seemed to find my breasts very quickly and was soon stroking gently over my nipples as her tongue continued to penetrate me and play so assertively.

We continued our caressing, with me now relaxing, stroking my hands over her naked back, as her hands continued to arouse my breasts.

Eventually she pulled away a little. "Oh Wendy, I do so like having you here. You are such a loving niece, you know! And it is so nice to have another girl around the house."

"Thank you, Auntie," I said, as she kept on caressing my breasts. "You are very generous with your loving."

She smiled, then moved back to a kneeling position.

"Well today I thought we should have a little loving lesson, if that's OK by you?"

"Of course, Auntie, what do you have in mind?"

"Well partly it's so we both get to know each other's bodies a bit better, and partly so we know what to call all our parts. It will help us in the future, when we want something special to happen. So you know about calling our tits as titties, don't you. And I sometimes call my nipples just my nips. What do you call the parts between your legs?"

And she stroked one hand up my chest and gently squeezed my right nipple, while the other hand want down my belly then hip, stopping at my thigh. She seemed to stare between my legs, causing me to squirm a little.

"Well I don't really have any names, they're just my special private parts." I said.

Auntie smiled. "Well, how about we use my names, then? So I call all of this area," and she moved her hand softly over my mound and between my legs, "your pussy, with two extra-special places. The first is your clitty, which is that sensitive part just here." 

And she flicked a finger slowly over that part which she'd been licking so much yesterday. I quivered and drew in my breath as it felt so naughty but so exciting.

"And the other part, just between your lips down here," and I felt her finger separating me, then touching at my secret entrance, "I call this your cunt. And a girl's cunt gets very nice and juicy when she get's excited - just like you did yesterday."

Her finger kept playing between my lips, and although I didn't feel that excited, somehow she had worked me up so I was. Or maybe it was tossing Uncle earlier that had got me squidgy.

So despite me just lying there, Auntie was getting me very excited with her fingers on my nipple while her other fingers slipped over my moist lips, and teased first my clitty then my cunt. It did feel grown up to use these words, instead of just my special place.

"Do all those words make sense to you, Wendy?" Auntie asked me, smiling as she continued to arouse me.

"Of course, Auntie," I replied. "It sounds a bit strange but I guess I will get used to them quite quickly."

"Well you just tell me what I'm doing now, using as many new words as you can."

I felt a bit embarrassed, but started: "Erm, well you're stroking my tits, Auntie, with your one hand."

"Yes, she smiled, "And the other?"

"Well that one is stroking over my pussy, with a finger that keeps tickling my clitty, and sometimes slipping down my lips towards my cunt." It did feel so strange to use that cunt word, but if Aunt wanted me too, then of course I should.

"That's a good girl, Wendy. Now I want to continue our little lesson, as you can find out a bit about my pussy and clitty and cunt too. Would you like that?" 

"Of course, Auntie," I smiled. "How do you want me to do it?"

"Well as our guest you should just lie there, and I'll come and kneel over you. Then when I bend forward my head will be just in the right place to lick your clitty, and you'll be able to see all my pussy in front of your face. Let's try it now!"




Wendy Ch. 03



So she stood up, then manoeuvred herself by putting a leg over my body. Then facing away from me, she knelt down so that her bottom came over my head, and as she spread her legs so all of the pinkness of her pussy was there for me to see, surrounded by all the hairs of her mound. And she did look quite hairy from this close up, with her pink folds so near to my face.

Suddenly I felt that wonderful sensation between my legs as het tongue found my clitty.

"Oooh!" I shouted out, without thinking.

"Are you OK love?" she asked.

"Oh yes, I'm fine thank you Auntie, "I replied. "You just surprised me, that's all." 

"That's OK, then." she said, "I'll just carry on making you nice and comfy. And if you want to touch my pussy, or finger my cunt, it's there for you to enjoy. Why don't you try tasting me too - I expect it'll taste a bit salty and musky to start with but it will be very nice for me when you do."

So feeling a bit naughty, but knowing Auntie was giving me a nice lesson in loving, I pushed my tongue out and lifted my head. The touch of her body felt so soft and warm, and yes there was a salty taste and musky aroma as I licked along her lips. There were so many little crevices to explore too.

Soon I'd put my arms around her hips to lift myself against her more easily, and was moving my tongue between her lips, separating the soft pink flesh that seemed so slippery and welcoming.

I could feel she was doing the same to me too, and my body became more and more squidgy as I relaxed against her mouth, my legs stretched wide apart to let her get to me easily.

I actually liked the taste of her cunt, I decided after a while, and I moved my tongue to try to find her clitty.

It was easy to tell when I got there, as her whole body quivered over me and I heard her gasp from down the sofa.

I played with her clitty, first licking then sucking as the soft flesh seemed to have a harder part inside. I'd also brought my fingers round now, so was exploring her just like she was exploring me. I could feel that she'd slipped a finger inside my cunt, and knew I was getting very squidgy as she kept up her licking.

It was just as lovely as yesterday, except that this time I could join in and give her some pleasure in return while I licked and kissed and fingered her. And she seemed to like it too as her body was now moving rhythmically above mine as my tongue pressed harder against her clitty.

"God you are good," she gasped, "It's just like Uncle Andy said when you tossed him off, it seems like you're an expert already, Wendy."

"Why thank you, Auntie," I panted, "You are getting me very excited again you know."

"Well just let it all happen, pet," she panted back, "And let your body enjoy my pleasuring as I'm enjoying yours."

And with that I felt her tongue back over my clitty, so I got to work on hers too. Not that it was work, just a lovely enjoyment, feeling so excited and at the same time exploring my Auntie's pussy to excite her. She was so special to me, that it was just so nice to be able to show my gratitude by licking and fingering her so lovingly.

I now tried slipping first one, then two fingers inside her slippery cunt. It was so slippy! And so warm too. She was moving her hips now as I pushed my fingers inside her. I thought back to Uncle Andy when he fucked her yesterday, and how she cried out in pleasure as he pushed hard into her, so I tried to do the same with my fingers.

I pushed them in firmly, then pulled them out slowly, feeling the smooth warmth of her cunt against my fingertips. I could tell she was fingering me the same too, with a firm in and out movement, coupled with her lips now sucking hard at my clitty.

God it was getting so exciting, I didn't know how much more I could take. But I didn't want to cum too soon as I wanted Auntie to enjoy it properly too. It was so nice to be playing proper grown up games!

So I bit my lip, panting, as she built up my excitement to fever pitch. I kept on with my fingers sliding in and out of her cunt, and my lips sucking at her clitty, till I could hear her panting hard too.

"Oh God, Wendy, Yes, Yes," she shouted, and I felt her body writhe over me, as mine joined in too.

"Oh Auntie," I cried, "I'm cumming for you!"

"And I'm cumming for you Wendy!"

So we carried on our fabulous pleasuring, with her exciting me as I excited her. My body was now writhing with my hips pushing up hard into her face, and she was doing the same to me, burying me under her pussy as my fingers slipped up and down her dripping cunt. 

It seemed to last so long, with our sighing and panting and gasping and crying out as we reached peak after peak, mixed with our pleasuring noises of mouth and tongue and fingers and clitty and cunt.

Eventually it seemed to get calmer for both of us, and I relaxed back into the sofa while my breath got back to normal. Aunt seemed to have produced lots of juices during her cumming as my face seemed wet all over, and as I looked at her pink pussy folds I could see liquid oozing out of her cunt, then slipping down her swollen lips before dripping onto my chin and throat.

'My,' I thought to myself, 'I wonder if her face is as juicy as mine must be'. And I smiled to myself, happy to be even more of a grown-up lady than I was. 

Then I heard a familiar voice. "Are you girls enjoying a nice comfy relax then?" said Uncle Andy. 

I couldn't see him to start with as he must have been standing in the doorway, but as he moved round I could see his now familiar body with its now familiar hard cock. "I didn't want to spoil your girly fun," he continued, "So I just watched you from the doorway. You both seemed like you were enjoying your time with each other."

"Oh my goodness," started Auntie Maude, moving slightly so that another few drops or her juices dribbled onto my throat, "that girl Wendy is just the loveliest of nieces anyone could have. I started just telling her the words for a lady's private parts, and she finished up taking me to such wonderful orgasms! She sucked me off like a well-experienced lover, Andy."

"Why thank you Auntie," I replied, "I was only exploring a little, like you wanted me too. And you were just so nice with me I got totally carried away. It is such fun learning with you... both." I added, looking over to Uncle Andy. 

He now had his right hand on his hard cock, and was working it up and down.

"Would you like me to help you again, Uncle Andy?" I asked, smiling. I knew he needed to be pleased again with that big hardness sticking out, and thought I should offer first, then realised he might have wanted to fuck Auntie again. So I added: "Unless you want to push your cock into Auntie like yesterday."

He smiled. "No, I think there's somewhere else I'd like to put it right now, somewhere that's lovely and wet and slippy..."

My heart missed a beat.

"... and smiling at me right now." he ended.

Auntie had now moved off me, and had moved both my feet onto the floor so there was a space for her to sit, so I pulled myself round to sit beside her. I realised I was still wearing her cardie, so pulled it straight, and looked across to my Aunt.

"Thank you for teaching me so well!" I smiled.

"Oh, you do learn so fast, don't you. And thank you for having me so nicely too." she replied, putting her arm around my shoulder and giving me a brief hug.

"And now for that other lesson I mentioned in the kitchen - you remember? About other ways of catching Andy's spunk?"

"Yes, of course Auntie. I remember all the little things you tell me!" I smiled again.

"So now," continued Auntie, "You're going to learn how to give Uncle Andy a blow-job."

"A blow-job?" I asked. I'd heard the phrase before but wasn't really sure about it. Like where to blow, to start with.

"Well it is a funny name, Wendy. Because it's not so much about blowing but sucking. And it's really like taking a man's cock in your mouth as if he was fucking you. But you can use your tongue and your lips and your fingers to excite him, then suck the cum out of his cock, and swallow it all down." 

She finished by licking her lips, then added, "And it's full of protein too, so very good for you!"

Uncle Andy now moved so he was standing directly in front of me, so I opened my legs to let him move even closer, his cock now just a few inches from my mouth.

"Open wide for him," urged Aunt Maude, "and don't forget to hide your teeth away so only your lips touch his skin. It could hurt a lot if your teeth scratched his knob."

"Come on Wendy, take this!" said Uncle, moving his hips forward just as I was opening my mouth.

Suddenly he'd pushed right inside, and it felt so big and hot, like a large sausage pushed deep into my mouth. Obviously I couldn't talk, so slowly got used to the feel of his warm hard cock in my mouth. As long as he didn't push too hard it was quite nice, and I could roll my tongue around it, feeling the little shapes at the end. It was a bit like exploring all of Auntie's folds between her legs earlier on. 

But Uncle seemed to like pushing it in and out of me, and was now holding round the back of my head. As he pushed in hard it felt like he was gagging me, with his cock pushing at the back of my throat. Then when he slipped out a bit I could swallow again and breathe more easily.

Soon we got into a routine of moving in and out, and I lifted my hands to hold around the base of his cock. I felt his hand there, but he moved it away when mine gripped him, and as I looked up I could see he'd put his hands behind his head, just like earlier on when I tossed him off.

I glanced over at Auntie, who was watching closely from the side. She smiled when she saw me look at her, and whispered, "You've doing very well, dear. Don't forget to suck when his cum starts to spurt!"

And she kind of joined in by putting an arm over my shoulder, letting her other hand stroke over my breasts. She did seem to like touching me!

Soon I was feeling more confident, knowing Auntie was helping me, so I began moving my head more quickly up and down his shaft. At one time I pulled my head right back to look at this cock, licking the end carefully. He seemed to like that.

But he liked it more when I pushed my mouth back over his cock, and started moving my head up and down on his shaft. My fingers were now gripping the base of his cock firmly, sliding up and down to help him work his spunk up. I knew he liked that!

Soon I could hear his breathing getting heavier again, so I knew he was getting ready to cum. Auntie's arm gripped my should tightly, but she'd stopped playing with my breasts, and moved her other arm behind Uncle's bottom.

"Ah!" he shouted, "God that feel's so good! Suck me hard now Wendy - I'm going to cum for you girl!"

So I started sucking him hard while my head continued to bob up and down on his shaft, my hands urging him on too. It was so slippy all along his cock, and it felt so hard it must be ready to burst, I thought.

Then Uncle cried out again, and I felt a spurt of hot cum in my mouth. It tasted so funny - hot and thick, yet almost sweet. Then I felt another spurt, and another. He was panting hard now, and Auntie was stroking the back of my head. I tried to swallow to make space in my mouth but he kept pumping more in. With his cock filling my mouth I couldn't swallow properly and felt some cum dribble out on his shaft where my fingers lid over it. Still I sucked as hard as I could, and swallowed as much as I could.

It got so messy as bits of Uncle's spunk dribbled down my chin and somehow smeared around my lips. It certainly wasn't as simple as a tossing, that's for sure.

Then Uncle simply pulled his hips back away from me, pulling his cock out of my mouth. Quickly I swallowed to clean my mouth properly.

"Open wide now!" he commanded. so I did.

"Now lick all the spunk off my shaft - and there's still some last dribbles coming for you."

So I moved my head closer, and licked carefully up and down his shaft, even licking the sack of his balls where there was a little goo amongst the hairs. Then I went back to his end, which he was holding for me to attend to.

There was a little dribble oozing out, so I carefully licked it off, putting my lips right around his head to give him a big kiss. Then I licked my lips to clean them up too.

"Mmmm," he smiled down at me, "That was an excellent first blow job, Wendy. I think you've got a bit to learn before you're as good as Aunt Maude, but it was lovely to feel you sucking me. And you looked so nice too, in your Auntie's cardigan."

"Yes it was lovely to watch, too, and see your pretty young mouth all round your Uncle's cock. Then that pert little tongue of your popping out to tickle him!"

"Well I'm glad you liked it Uncle," I said, smiling first at him then at Auntie. "You both seem to be teaching me so much, but it is lovely to learn about new grown up pleasures. And there seem so many nice things to do!"

"Well why don't you go up for a quick shower now Wendy," said Aunt Maude, "And wash all those bits of cum off you. You're probably a bit sticky between your legs too! If you give me a shout when you've finished, I'll come up afterwards and follow you in."

Uncle Andy continued: "And when we're all fresh and clean we can go out for Sunday lunch - would you both like that?"

We looked at teach other, then both said: "Yes, please!" at the same time, so we giggled. I got up off the sofa, when to my slight surprise Uncle Andy just pulled me towards his body with his hands around my waist, under the cardie. "That was fabulous, Wendy!" he smiled, and kissed me on the lips, letting his tongue wander over the outside of my lips too, as if he was licking me clean. How kind of him!

Then I went up for my shower, glancing back to see the two of them sitting naked side by side on the sofa, starting to chat with each other.

I shouted down to Aunt Maude when I'd finished showering, then went to my room where I think I must have dozed off...



Wendy Ch. 03



I watched her stride toward the light from the kitchen which propelled her shadow to the side wall near where we had danced. It made her look quite agile. My head throbbed and my back felt like it was broken.

Lights came on. I looked up at the table. Embossed on the bottom; ‘This table made especially for Wendifer K. Jeffries.’ 

Wendy returned to stand over me. The virginal hair was wet and matted. She glared down at my naked body.

My deflated cock sported the latex cover. It was rolling back on itself.

“Oh, Cotton!” She exclaimed. “I’m so sorry, why didn’t you tell me?”

She shoved the table aside and came to me, her tits covering my face.

“Where does it hurt? Do you need to go to emergency? Can I get you an aspirin? Oh, Cotton! I’m so sorry! What have I done?”

I turned on the car radio on my short ride home. There was a news report. Our schools team had lost 41 to 0. So had I. Wendy 1; Cotton nil.

[to be continued]

To Angelbaby whose vessel must be overflowing with commas. Thanks you! 



Wendy Ch. 04



Chapter 4: Mrs. P

Walter, our van driver and general handyman looked puzzled when I said I would ride along to the flower wholesaler. Priscilla had not arrived so I left her a note to explain that we would be back soon. 

I told Walter that I had not had time to prepare a list of what we needed. I had not slept well and had trouble concentrating. 

"You don't look so good Kid," Walter said. "What happened?"

I did not want to talk about my misfortune of getting slung from the bosom of a female. "I got beat up for telling the truth," I said jokingly.

By the time we got back to the shop Wendy had called twice to check on my condition. Priscilla was dumbfounded by Wendy's line of questioning. She eyed me with suspicion; I could tell the questions had made her curious.

I went into the house to call Wendy; wanting to forestall further conversations about me. "I'm fine," I said. "Now stop talking to Pris. about it."

"Cotton, I'm so relieved. I feel badly about what happened. What can I do to make it up to you?"

"Humm..." I answered. "I'll think of something."

"You're Frisky," She giggled. "Did Ellen really say that? The timing seems so, well, inappropriate."

"About being prepared?" I had a feeling that was what she was referring to.

"Yes," she said, in the raspy high pitched voice that drove me crazy.

"I know what you mean about timing. It took me by surprise. I was shocked to hear her bringing it up at this point. We had spent the afternoon going over the steps in detail and the subject of protection had not come up. I was pissed!"

There were sounds coming from the other end of the line that I could not place. It could be the from the phone cord rubbing against something, I thought. Then it came to me. Wendy was making a soft noise at the base of her throat. 

"Ah, Cotton?" She said hesitantly. "Were you pissed last night?"

"What do you think?" I joked. I considered telling her about the date I had missed with Sandy. I wondered what I had really missed.

"Did you stay pissed at Ellen?"

"Oh my No! She was just stalling. That's what she told me later. She handed me a condom and told me to put it on. She was stalling because she needed some time to recover. That's all. The being prepared part was just her fulfilling her role as teacher. I bought condoms the next day. Ellen told me about a guy she knew who carried one in his sock so that is what I've always done."

"Which sock?" She said with enough rasp to make her sound sexy.

"Why don't you try to find out some time?"

"Are you really okay, Cotton?"

"Sure," I said. "That's not the first time I've taken a knock on the head while trying to get laid."

"Oh?"

I should have kept my mouth shut. I knew what was coming.

"Tell me," she said. 

It was Saturday morning, our busiest day of the week. I was needed to help take phone orders and to answer questions to customers. Walter and Pris would be swamped and mistakes would be made. Chaos would rein!

I extended the telephone cord out as far as it would reach; stretched out on the couch and considered how to begin. I would have to be careful. Mrs. P was well known in the town. She may have even been a client at the law firm where Wendy worked. I had always referred to her as Mrs. P but even that could be dangerous. Recklessly, I began.

Mrs. P called one night and wanted our display picked up. Marcie spoke to her at length. She first suggested that Walter could go first thing in the morning. There was chatter from the other end. Then Marcie said we could get by without it until the weekend. More chatter. Marcie yielded, saying she would send me.

"I'm sorry, Cotton, you'll have to go. She doesn't want us coming tomorrow for some reason. It's just the display, Walter picked up everything else this afternoon. She wouldn't let him bring the display because she wanted her kids to see it when they got home from school. Now she wants it out of her house." Marcie was holding back but I knew by her tone that she did not like kowtowing to this women.

It was the 11th of April. I later recorded it in my journal because it was the first time Marcie had called me by the nick name Ellen had given me and it was the first time I was permitted to drive the van alone. These events were minor compared to the real reason the journal entry was made.

"Cotton," Marcie called to me as I was leaving, "be polite but don't let her give you any Shit!" That would also go in the journal, I thought.

Mrs. P had held a women's gathering at her home that day and we had handled the floral arrangement. We had delivered the various pedestals, vases and baskets early that morning. There were enough pieces to fill the entire down stairs, including a giant center piece for the dining room table. 

Once everything was inside Marcie sent Walter back to the shop and me to school. She would remain to set everything up and arrange the flowers. 

I was glad to be excused because there had been some discussion between Mrs. P and Marcie concerning the placement of the items we had brought. I overheard Mrs. P complain that one of the baskets we had brought did not match the others. As I went out the door I heard Marcie say that basket was slated to go in front of the fire place. 

"The display is to go there." Mrs. P said with a tone of finality. I nearly went back to remove the odd basket but thought better of it. 

The 'display' was one of a kind. Marcie had designed it and a blacksmith had fabricated it for her. It was made of wrought iron and had been painted white. It stood over four feet high and barely fit in the van. A large number of cut flowers could be placed in the slots in the circular top and the spokes that extended from the center. It was in demand. We got wedding jobs because we were the only company with such a lavish piece. It only weighed about forty pounds but was awkward to handle.

It was a short distance to Mrs. P's home. I backed into the drive and opened the van's back door. The house was dark except for a light at the back of the house. We had entered through the front door that morning but I headed toward the light. Just as I approached the back door the light went out. I recognized Mrs.P. She motioned me in silently. It was a short wave of the hand; a commanding beckon

I followed her along a porch which spanned the back of the house. We entered the kitchen which was also dark except for a lighted clock on the stove. I noted it was 9:36 p. m. She made a sharp turn and headed down a hallway. I recognized the passage and knew where we were heading but would not been able to navigate through the maze on my own. 

A street lamp in front of the house gave off just enough light for me to make out the shape of the display in front of the fireplace. 

"My children are asleep upstairs so you must do this quietly," she whispered. 

I shrugged, wondering if she wanted me to take off my shoes or something. When I bent to get a good hold on the display I heard a hiss.

"Don't take it without removing the flowers, those are long stemmed roses." 

I knew what they were, Marcie had inserted three dozen yellow roses in the slots. They peaked out around a bow made of wide yellow ribbon. Naturally Mrs. P. wanted to save the roses. 

She disappeared for a minute then re-emerged, bringing with her a basket to hold the roses. I untied the bow and proceeded to remove the prized flowers. 

Mrs. P walked backwards in order to guide me down the hall towards the kitchen. She warned me at the most, three times to be careful. As we navigated the turn at the kitchen, I saw the time on the stove clock. It was 11 minutes to ten. I wanted to ask why even one light hadn't been turned on.

I repeated the phrase, 'The customer is always right!' silently to myself.

We moved along the porch. I was breathing easier as the path was wider and the door was only a few feet away. Mrs. P stopped in her tracks causing me to bump into her. It was pitch black and I had not anticipated the stop.

"Cotton? That is your name isn't it?" she whispered as she turned towards me. Her hairline seemed to be about even with my chin. I could just make out the whites of her eyes. 

I realized she could not see my nod, "yes, it's my nickname."

"Cotton, would you do something for me?"

I bent down so the display would not make any noise when it met the floor, "Sure."

"I need a roast from the freezer and I can't reach it, would you?"

We had just passed the freezer. I had not noticed it on the way by. I followed her until we banged in to a large box with a lid that she lifted. 

"It's there on the left," she said, holding the lid open and pointing inside. I moved around her and leaned into the cold steam that was rising through the dark opening. If there was something down there I would have to find it by feel. Why doesn't she turn on the lights, I thought.

I leaned over the side and reached out as far as I could. Other than cold air I felt nothing.

"It's farther down," I heard her whisper. 

I reached out with my right hand and felt a package. 

"That's not it. You need to go lower, more to the left."

My feet left the floor and my weight shifted until my hand touched the bottom. I thought my hand would attach itself to the cold steel. I supported my weight with one hand while I felt around with the other. Something moved and made a rolling sound.

"That's it," she said. I wondered how she knew. Did she have an ear for the roll? Had she practiced rolling her roast around the bottom of the freezer so she could recognize its roll? I also wondered how I would be able to get the frozen roast and myself out of the dark cavern.

I grabbed the bundle with one hand and pushed with the other. With a swinging motion I moved my legs in a propelling motion with the hopes that my feet could reach the floor.

Just as my shoulders approached the surface where warm air meets cold Mrs. P dropped the lid. It glanced off of the back of my head and I felt it hit my rump which must have been at the highest above the side of the case. It made a thud as it bounced, coming to rest on my bottom. I had lost the roast and was suspended, arms waving; trapped by the weight of the lid.

Mrs. P became a bundle of terror. From the depths of the freezer I could hear her. She stammered, wheezed, coughed and made choking sounds. I remained trapped by the heavy lid.

"Don't bother with the roast," she coached as she freed me by raising the lid.

I was determined to bring up the prize. I felt around for football sized package. I felt the frost soaked paper wrap that held the roast. Like a quarterback, I grabbed the ball in both hands and tucked it under my left arm. With an exaggerated move, I flipped myself over the side and fumbled the ball. The package sprayed from my grasp and hit the floor rolling. The lid slammed down, echoing the sound the dropped package had made. Unruffled by the noises we had made, Mrs. P grasp me with both hands and pulled me to her.

Her body was pinned between me and the freezer, arms wrapped around me tightly with my nose in her hair. My legs felt wobbly and feared that I would collapse. I placed my hands on each side of her and clutched the top of the box to brace myself against sliding down. Our bodies were pressed together, and I felt her warm thighs touch mine. She made halted gasping sounds and her body shook. 

Mrs. P placed her hands on mine, pressing them down slowly without any effort at all. She propelled herself upward, and our bodies never lost contact as she did so. Sitting perched at the edge of the lid, her bare legs were folded at the knee and her feet pressed to the side of the case. Her thighs supported my arms as her her hands found the back of my head. Gingerly, Mrs. P patted it as if checking for blood, or a raised spot, she found neither. Sobs were beginning to escape from her lips.

My face was pressed to her bosom with her chin resting on my head. She cradled it in her arms. 

We moved in a gentle rocking motion for what seemed like minutes. 

I brazenly took advantage of her concern by accenting the movement with an open mouth, trying to make contact with her right breast. I moved my lips over the part that was peeking out above the open neck of her dress and I was almost certain that my chest was rubbing against her panties as we rocked. Her hands moved on my back and clutched my shoulder blades tightly. Her butt seemed to move even closer and I could smell her musky scent of arousal. Mrs. P suddenly clamped her legs together against my rib cage. 

She lifted her chin from my head and placed her hands on my shoulders. I held my breath, certain it was ending. A sudden jerk on my jacket made me drop my arms and the jacket dropped to the floor. I tilted my head but could not see a thing, nothing! Then I felt her lips on mine. Her mouth was open and the kiss was as equally crushing as was our embrace. 

The position I was in was uncomfortable. I found myself having to stand on my tiptoes in an effort to even our height. The women must have sensed my discomfort and took corrective action. She leaned to her right and I followed. Our mouths were joined together on the same level but we could not hold that position for long. 

Leaning farther to the right, she took me with her. I placed my right knee and my left hand on the box and boosted myself to a position above her. We only lost contact for a second. I placed my left hand under the back of her head as we slid backward onto the flat surface. My right leg found its way to between hers, while my knee was making rhythmic contact with her pussy. 

Our tongues frolicked in unison, her arms moved over my back and my right hand replaced my knee between her thighs. Her mouth became unlatched from mine when my finger made contact with her panties but only for a second. The panties were soaked, and her lips bounced back with renewed pressure as one of my fingers stretched the leg-band wide and inserted it into her. Mrs. P arched as I moved my finger in and out.

I moved my hand to the waistband and tugged. Her butt lifted up from the box and I pulled at the waist band with only one hand, but it was no use.

She broke our kiss and pushed me to the side. With another butt lift her hands moved the panties down and her left leg came up to free itself, leaving them to dangle around her right ankle. I used the few precious seconds that I had to unbutton my jeans and push them down.

Mrs P pulled me to her. There was no need for conversation. She was the trainer and I was her pet elephant. The women tapped my left thigh until I was on my knees between her legs. As I pushed my shorts down I felt her hands there too, helping me!

Her small hand found my cock and squeezed it gently. She tugged and I moved forward too fast, stabbing at the wrong spot. "No," she said with impatience, "Higher." She guided me to her pussy entrance and rubbed the head up and down against it. I let her have her way with me and hoped that I would not waste the seed that was boiling within me. I pushed into her moist pussy but stalled like a revving engine in neutral with a slipping clutch.

Grunting, Mrs. P bucked causing her legs to fold at her waist and her butt to rise up off the surface. Like an automatic transmission that shifts from first to second, we were fully joined. Soon we were in the highest gear and it was ecstasy.

She squirmed under me. I feared that she would move us too near the edge. Her arms were no longer around me. Mrs. P's hands were firmly planted on each side of the enamel box with her legs drawn up to her side. This combination allowed her to buck and push back hard with my every lunge. 

I tried to kiss her but I was unable to catch her head which was turning from side to side to my lunge cadence. I stopped abruptly.

Her head stopped moving, and she dug her heels into my hips as if to give me a kick start. I tried to kiss her but she still resisted.

"Fuck me!" she hissed. "Hard!"

That was all I needed to hear; it was an acknowledgment that we were actually doing what I thought we were doing. I banged away with renewed energy. I felt her cunt walls tighten around my cock. Her legs were now locked around my waist; she was letting me do the work. Her fists hammered my back. Her slender body was awash with sweat. We were both panting and I knew I could not keep that pace for long. 

I slowed down a little. Mrs. P's hands moved to my head and drew it down. She whispered in my ear. "Just a little more," she coaxed, and I felt her pussy walls grip my cock then loosen, grip and loosen again.

"I'm so close, please! Give me one more," she moaned.

That's what I needed to hear, I slammed into her and she folded her legs back again to give me a straighter shot. I placed my hands under her ass to hold her in that position an inch above the surface. 

"Like that!" her voice was a faint whimper, "Yes, like that, please, oh please, I'm.. that's it! Yesssss."

I believe we said 'Yesssss,' in unison. My balls rocked from the blast followed by another blast. 

I collapsed, her legs straightened and I no longer felt her hands on my head. We were both out of breath and neither of us could speak. The afterglow was exhilarating. My prick lay on the enamel surface of the freezer.

"Get up, get off of me," she said, tapping my side. Like a trained animal, I responded.

I slid off the freezer and touched the floor. Mrs. P was stirring behind me, and when I turned to help her down, I and realized that my jeans were around my ankles. 

"Get dressed and go home," she ordered as she pushed my extended hand away and hopped to the floor. 

My jacket was at my feet. I picked it up and found the display, then inched toward the back door. The telephone began to ring.

"What's this about you needing an aspirin?" Marcie asked as I came in. She stood at the far end of the house at her bedroom door, dressed only in a long night gown. Her hair was in rollers and there was white cream on her face. Marcie did not move my way, for which I was glad.

"Huh?" I was in a daze. 'What was she saying?' I thought to myself.

"Did you bump your head? How did that happen?" She stood there, waiting for my answer.

"I was getting a piece of meat," I answered. 

Marcie gave me one of her 'I-am-so-angry-at-you' looks as she slammed her bedroom door.

Thinking of what I had just said struck me as funny. Then looking down I burst into laughter upon seeing that I had put my jacket on inside out.

"Did you leave something out?" Wendy brought me out of my meditative state. This was the first time she had interrupted the account; I had forgotten that she was in my audience.

"Leave something out?" I needed clarification.

"Like protection?"

"You're good! You'll make a good trial lawyer," I said.

"Well?"

I didn't have one. I had thrown on a jacket and grabbed the keys to the van. The need for having a condom in my sock had not entered my mind.

"I guess you could say I was unprepared," I answered.

Mrs. P came on Saturday morning to settle her account. There was a discussion about the invoice and she wanted something taken off because one of the baskets did not match the others. Marcie argued that it had been worked out satisfactorily. 'Had her affair not been a success?' Five percent was mentioned. One percent was offered. They settled on a three percent reduction of the bill and a single white carnation which Mrs. P pressed against her breast like a trophy. 

Marcie frowned at me as if to say 'shue! Why are you hanging around?'

Mrs. P stepped toward me and inquired about my head wound, noticing the bump on my head now. Her concern was genuine although her voice was more dramatic than I thought necessary. Her patter continued on through the door and I followed because it seemed expected and also because I wanted to. As the door closed behind us she turned to peer back at me. There was an almost pleading expression on her lips. 




Wendy Ch. 04



This story is set in England, so the words used are English not American. All characters are over 18. This Chapter follows on from Wendy 03. 

*

Uncle Andy continued: "And when we're all fresh and clean we can go out for Sunday lunch - would you both like that?"

We looked at each other, then both said: "Yes, please!" at the same time, so we giggled. I got up off the sofa, when to my slight surprise Uncle Andy just pulled me towards his body with his hands around my waist, under the cardie. "That was fabulous, Wendy!" he smiled, and kissed me on the lips, letting his tongue wander over the outside of my lips too, as if he was licking me clean. How kind of him!

Then I went up for my shower, glancing back to see the two of them sitting naked side by side on the sofa, starting to chat with each other. I shouted down to Aunt Maude when I'd finished showering, then went to my room where I think I must have dozed off...

Anyway, I awoke with Aunt Maude gently pulling at my shoulder.

"Wake up, dear -- we'll be late for lunch!"

I looked up and saw her smiling down at me. She'd obviously showered and got changed into her Sunday-best twinset, in a pale green colour. She looked so smart in it -- especially with her pearl necklace -- so I realised I'd better get up too, and put on some pretty clothes.

I sat up in bed, and rubbed my eyes, as Auntie looked down on my naked body.

"As we're in a bit of a rush, why don't you just pull on a sweater or a cardie and a skirt, and we can go out like that?" she asked.

"What, you mean no bra and panties?" I asked, amazed.

"Well your breasts are so young and firm you don't really need a bra, do you? And I often wear no panties, especially when I've been a bit excited, as I think it's nice for the breeze to cool you off!"

"Well OK, if you say so Auntie" I smiled, standing up off the bed and going to the clothes cupboard. 

I pulled out the little white round-neck cardie that looked quite smart, then found the matching wool skirt from the next drawer down. It wasn't really a matching skirt, but was the same shade of white even if it was made in a heavier ribbed wool. It had a stretchy elastic waistband, so I'd soon slipped it on, and pulled the cardigan on too. It was nice the way Auntie watched me dressing, with a little smile on her face. 

"Only a few ticks to button myself up, then I'll be ready, Auntie!" I beamed. 

"And very pretty you look too," she smiled, "especially knowing that your lovely body is only hidden by a thin covering of soft wool!"

I quickly pulled on my light brown shoes, brushed my hair and dabbed on some perfume as Auntie held the door open for me and I followed her down the stairs to meet Uncle Andrew, dressed in an open-neck check shirt and dark trousers. It was so funny to be all dressed up again.

So we went out, and the pub was still serving lunch, so we all had roast beef dinners. Uncle bought a bottle of red wine, so we all drank a little too.

I just felt so grown up to be out sharing lunch with Aunt and Uncle, all of us dressed in our Sunday best, knowing that we'd spent the first part of the day almost naked, enjoying all sorts of new pleasures. I could still taste a little of Uncle's cum in my mouth, at least until the roast beef came along.

We caught each other's eyes at different times during the meal, and each of us smiled in turn at our special pleasures, although we only talked about the normal things like the weather. At one time a tiny piece of roast potato somehow dropped off my fork as I was about to put it in my mouth. 

I noticed it as it clung to my cardie, just above my right breast. I tried to flick it off without creating a scene, but somehow it wouldn't go, and as I flicked it I knew my breast was wobbling, as Uncle and Auntie had stopped eating to watch.

"Can I help, dear?" asked Auntie, moving her hand towards me. Just as she reached my cardie the fleck of potato fell off onto the floor, leaving Auntie with her hand gently stroking my breast.

"Thanks!" I said, "It was just a little bit that dropped off the potato, but it's gone now -- and I think there's no mess or anything on my cardie."

"No, it looks quite perfect to me!" smiled Uncle Andrew, who'd been watching me closely when I brushed my hand over my breast. 

Later on, after both Uncle and Aunt had eaten pudding too (I just was full at that point), we had coffee and gently relaxed.

"I've just remembered, you'll have to be in bed early tonight, won't you dear?" said Auntie Maude, sipping her coffee, "As it's your first day of college tomorrow."

"Well I don't need to get up too early," I replied, "as my first registration isn't until ten o'clock. Mind you, I'm not quite sure where it is, so I need to leave by nine I suppose."

"I don't know, typical students!" said Uncle Andy, smiling, "not starting till ten. You'll probably be back by 3 too, and say you've had a hard day!"

"There, there, Andy," chided Maude, "don't tease the girl too much -- she's not even started and I'm sure she'll be a very hard worker -- and as you know she's a quick learner too."

Uncle went a bit red at this point -- probably remembering how I tossed him then sucked him off earlier on. I smiled and licked my lips, feeling a little bit special.

What with the late lunch and the pudding and coffee afterwards, we didn't get home till about 5 o'clock.

After we got into the hall, Uncle turned round to face me, smiling.

"I didn't really have time to tell you in the pub, but you do look gorgeous, Wendy!"

I smiled, feeling myself blush a little.

"Yes, that cardie suits her doesn't it Andy?" added Auntie Maude. "And you know that we're not wearing panties, either of us -- that's why her skirt looks so nice and rounded over her little bottom."

I wasn't sure why Auntie said that bit about us not wearing panties. Maybe she was feeling as if she wanted some attention too. But it had the opposite effect, as Uncle came up right close in front of me, and simply put his hands around me, gripping my bottom quite firmly.

"My, I believe you are right!" he winked to Auntie, sliding his hands up and down over my skirt, and feeling my bottom cheeks at the same time. He was so close I could feel him pressing into me down there. He did seem to like being with me!

"I'm not wearing a bra, either." I said, wondering quite why I'd said it, as I knew where his hands would be going next.

"Well let's not start fumbling in the hall." said Auntie, sounding cross. "I'm going in the kitchen to put the kettle on. Uncle Andrew, I suggest you go and get yourself undressed upstairs. And Wendy, why don't you come and help me. I think we should keep our Sunday best on for a little while too".

And with that she went off into the kitchen, as Uncle slid his hands round my waist, smiling as he gave me a quick kiss. He then went upstairs, and I followed Auntie towards the kitchen.

Auntie had the kettle on when I went in, greeting me with a smile, but sounding almost cross.

"Why did you tell Uncle that you had no bra on? Are you trying to make him feel your tits again? And after that showing of in the pub too!"

"Well I was only following what you said about our not wearing panties..." I said. "And in the pub I was just flicking off a speck from my cardie, not stroking myself! I'm sorry if I upset you, Auntie, but really..."

"Well Wendy, I hope you remember that we do have a very strict house here, and because of those two times when you were much too forward, I'm going to have to spank your bottom. It won't be a big spanking, but you've got to learn. Now come here and bend over my knees."

She'd sat down on a kitchen chair at this point, and pushed her knees forward, beckoning me where I was to put my body. It didn't seem fair, but I suppose I just thought she wanted to get her own way, so I knelt down beside her, then leaned forward over her knee with my hands on the floor the other side of her.

No sooner than I'd got there than I felt her lift up my skirt, exposing my naked bottom. Then there was a movement of her arm, and ouch! I cried out as her hand came down on me. Then there was a second smack, and then a third.

"Ow, Auntie!" I cried, "This hurts!"

"Well you'll just have to learn how to behave yourself, my girl. Your place is not to flaunt yourself about, but to serve your Uncle and me. So we'll have you when we please, not when you please. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Auntie, of course." I replied, my bottom still stinging.

"Well maybe three smacks is enough for you this time." Said Auntie, seeming to relax. "Let me just see how sore your bottom is."

And then I felt her hand on me again, but this time stroking over me smoothly to rub my pain away. I felt like crying when she smacked me, but now it felt alright again, and I wasn't surprised when her fingers slipped under my bottom, between my legs. I knew Auntie wanted to show she was in charge, so I eased my legs apart slightly so she could feel me some more. 

She was very relaxing with her fingers, and I could feel myself getting squidgy even before her fingertips reached my pussy lips and began a gentle soothing motion down there. Her touch just made me melt again inside, as her fingers continued to explore my private parts. 

By now the kettle was boiling, and I could hear the steam coming out of it. Fortunately it had an automatic switch off, so Auntie didn't have to stop her soothing to stop its frenetic boiling. Then I heard the door again, and new Uncle Andrew had come in. I was facing away from the door, so knew he could see everything his wife's hand was doing -- and now that included showing me off to him.

"I'm afraid I had to give Wendy a little smack, Andy," she said, still keeping her finger movements over my pussy lips, "as she'd been getting a little out of line. But I think she's learned her lesson now, haven't you pet?"

"Yes, Auntie" I said.

"Don't let me stop you Maude," said Uncle Andrew, "that smoothing you're doing looks very nice from here. Could you hold her open a little more so I can watch?"

I felt powerless -- but somehow it was alright, as I'd seen them both naked anyway. But to be fully dressed with just my bottom showing and to have Auntie's fingers between my legs, I did feel somehow very exposed.

Then Auntie pulled my bottom cheek apart, exposing me even more, and I felt drops of something cool right on my bottom itself. I quivered. Then there were so many feelings, as Auntie started stroking over my anus, while continuing to finger me. Then there were more fingers -- it must have been Uncle Andrew -- that fingered me some more. I was getting very excited with all this attention, and felt myself becoming more and more squidgy -- despite still resting over Auntie's knees. 

I began to moan a little.

"Just relax, pet." said Auntie Maude. "Uncle's just going to give you a special treat -- aren't you Andy?"

Now there were definitely four hands playing with me. And playing everywhere from my clitty to my anus. There was also a finger pushing into me, but as I was so juicy it slipped in and out quite easily. I was quite liking being the centre of attention, as it meant I could enjoy all of the feelings without having to concentrate on sucking either of them, or tossing Uncle off. And they seemed to like it too, judging from their breathing.

Then I felt my legs being pushed apart, as Uncle was kneeling down behind me. And as he shuffled forwards, so he pushed my legs further and further apart.

"Now here's my special treat for you tonight, Wendy," he said, "so just relax and let me into you. There's a good girl!"

I didn't have time to say anything, as I felt something big and hard pushing between my pussy lips. I knew it must by his cock -- so that meant he was going to fuck me! I wouldn't be a virgin any more! What a lucky girl I was to have all of these pleasures in just two days!

I thought it might hurt as it felt so big, but Uncle was very gentle, telling me: "Just a little bit of cock to start you off -- there, how does that feel?"

I knew I should be honest with them so I simply said: "Well it's definitely bigger than your finger, but I think it will fit nicely if you push in gently, Uncle and it is very kind of you to fuck me..." I thought that sounded very grown up, and didn't want any more smacking. Not for now, anyway. 

I could feel more fingering of my clitty -- I think it was Auntie's hand reaching under me -- and Uncle's cock kept pushing up, nuzzling at my vagina. Then I just felt him slip right inside me. It was tight, but I was nice and juicy for him so he slid in quite easily. Then he grabbed me round the waist, holding me tight over my cardie, and I felt his hips start to move more rhythmically back and forwards into me. It seemed he kept pushing more cock into me too, as now I could feel him right up inside me, and I could hear and feel his body slapping against my bottom as he continued to fuck me rhythmically.

"There's a good girl," said Auntie, "taking Uncle so well. Let's see if I can give you some pleasuring too before Uncle spurts up inside you."

And I felt Aunt's other hand reach down under my chest, and begin exploring my breasts as they hung next to her legs.

Now I was getting really excited, with Uncle hard inside me and holding me tightly around the waist, while Auntie played with my breasts and nipples with one hand, the other still rubbing my wet clitty.

I was panting, and shouting out now every time Uncle pushed into me. He seemed to be pushing in further and harder with every stroke, and he was panting now, too.

"Oh, Wendy!" he was saying, "Oh, Wendy! Oh, Wendy!" as he pushed harder and harder into me.

I joined in, panting "Oh Uncle! Oh Uncle! Oh Uncle!" as he pounded against me, now making a loud slapping noise with each stroke as his body smacked against my bottom. 

"Come on girl," encouraged Auntie, "cum for Auntie with Uncle's big cock inside you, cum while he fucks you, there's a good girl!"

And not quite knowing who was doing what to pleasure me, I felt a huge wave of excitement build up inside me and suddenly reach a peak.

"Yes!" I shouted, "Oh Yes! I'm cumming Auntie, I'm cumming! Fuck me harder, Uncle, fuck me harder"

And his voice was now at a crescendo too. "God Wendy! Oh God! I'm fucking you and cumming right up inside your cunt!"

Then he just kept repeating "Up! Up! Up!" squeezing my waist tightly as his cock jammed right into me.

We just seemed to be moving together in excitement for so long -- and making so much noise with our panting and our shouting. 

Then we both seemed to slow down at the same time, and although Auntie was still playing with me at both ends, I knew that we'd both finished our fucking. 

Yes, I had to pinch myself, our fucking. I'd been fucked at last, and knew how good it felt. Now I could join in conversation when the other girls were talking about it. I'd taken a cock right inside me. And a big one! I could tell them all about sucking and blow jobs too! I felt such a big girl! And it was all thanks to Auntie Maude and Uncle Andrew.

What would college bring? 

By maudecardy © 2011



Wendy Ch. 04



There was a light mist that begun during the night and would continue throughout the day. Mrs. P wore a twill jacket and matching slacks. 

"You haven't told anyone about our," she paused and looked away. Her children were waiting in the car, the girl was about 13 and the boy was probably 11. I recognized the station wagon with the imitation wood paneling. The children were watching us. She looked back at me. Two wrinkles were cluttering her otherwise flawless brow. Mrs. P bit one side of her lower lip with her two front teeth and moisture was collecting in her hair. She added, "Encounter?" 

By 'encounter', I took it to mean our little escapade on the freezer.

Ellen's advice, 'never fuck and tell' came to mind. Slowly and solemnly I shook my head and mouthed, 'No'.

Her shoulders relaxed and a drop from the moisture in her hair slid down her cheek, like a teardrop. "Good," she said, nodding. Then she was gone.

Marcie had said nothing about the night I had gone to Mrs. P's to pick up the display but I could tell she had her suspicions, especially after she had seen Mrs. P usher me out the door for our private talk. 

I busied myself and kept out of her way for the rest of the day. Marcie was pleased when I volunteered to take care of closing the shop because she had a date with Tad that night. I was at the dining room table catching up on the ledgers when they left.


"Don't stay up too late," she said. Tad gave me a wave and a knowing look as the went out the door. I translated the wave to mean that he would bring her home well after midnight.

By nine o'clock I was pacing the floor. I had showered and shaved and carefully placed a condom in each sock. 

It took about fifteen minutes to walk to Mrs. P's house. I didn't dare take the van or Marcie's car. The mist had continued throughout the day but was not bothersome to me.

Lights were on in what I knew to be the living room. There was also a dim light upstairs. The streetlight, prevented me from going too close, for fear that a neighbor would see me. I took a seat on a low wall across the street and two doors away. I could watch the house from there, but if a car came along, there would be no place to hide. I wondered what time her kids went to bed on a Saturday night. 

'What time is it?' I thought. My habit of never wearing a watch was backfiring. My mind churned. 'What if a car approached? What if it were the police? How could I explain why I was sitting here?' I decided I could say I was taking a walk and was just taking a rest. 

'Do you often go for a walk on Saturday nights?' The police would ask. 

'It's April the 15th, income tax day, I was worrying about making errors on the tax forms and decided to take a walk to clear my head,' I would respond. 

'How old are you kid?' 

I would be found out. The police would take me to the station in the squad car. They would threaten to call my parents and I would confess. 'Officers, I was there waiting for the lights to go out in the house across the street so that I could sneak over there and have sex with Mrs. P. 

Oh, how they would laugh.

A light turned on. I decided it was in the front hallway where I had seen the stairs. Good, the kids are going to bed, I thought. The lights in the living room went out and I stood up to get a better look at what was taking place. An upstairs light went on in what I thought to be a front bedroom. Another upstairs light appeared. Trying to get a better view, I stood on the wall, anticipating what would happen next. After several minutes the first upstairs light went out and a few minutes later the second light faded. Only the hallway light remained lit. Then, it to went out.

Damn! What time is it?, I wondered. What time does this women go to bed? I stood there on the wall, thinking of those firm thighs, the feel of them gripping my chest, thinking of their power, the way they lifted her butt, the feeling I had when the house went dark. I was feeling stupid. I shook my head to rid my hair of the moisture that had collected there.

A soft glow appeared at the back of the house. It could be a light from the kitchen at the far side of the house. I ran across the street to the driveway and stopped when I reached the dark side of the house. I stood with my back to the house and tried to adjust my eyes to the shadows. A car was coming up the street and I froze, holding my breath. My back was pressed against the house. The car lights cast a wide beam on both sides of the street. It was a cop car and its windshield wipers were moving from side to side. If they spotted me there would be no explanation. 

'Out for a walk are we?' The car passed.

I tapped at the porch door. Nobody stirred, so I tried the door but it was latched. I tapped again, louder this time. Even if she was in the kitchen she wouldn't hear my knock, it was too far away.

I walked to where the light was streaming out from the kitchen windows and across the porch. The house was elevated and I had to stand back some distance in order to peer in. Mrs. P was standing at a center work area. I couldn't see into to the kitchen to see what she was doing. I waved my arms. She didn't look up from her work, so I walked up to a porch window, jumped and tapped on it. I ran back to where I could see her. She still had not looked up. 

I jumped to tap on the porch window once more then jumped again so I could look in. There was a startled look on her face. I jumped again. If looks could kill I would have been dead.

I ran back to where I had been standing. Mrs. P is beautiful, I thought, really mad but beautiful. I waved and motioned to the porch door. She shook her head and motioned for me to leave. I motioned again and began to walk in the direction of the door.

After what seemed like an eternity I heard footsteps on the porch floor. 

"Go away," she whispered through the darkened screen door.

I didn't move. I was on the top step, just inches from where she stood. We were only separated by the screen wire and a latch. I recognized the aroma of her hair.

"My children are asleep and it's late," she whispered again.

I placed my hand against the screen, just inches from where her hand rested on the latch to hold it in the locked position. 

"Look, we, I did a terrible thing, something I will regret for a long time," Mrs. P was reasoning with me, trying to make me understand.

"Open the door," I pleaded.

"What do you want?" she hissed.

What the hell did she think that I wanted, I thought. The mist increased.

The women moved back from the screen door and the from the spray the rain was now making, and said, "Please. You should go, you'll be soaked."

"I want to help you get a roast out of the freezer," my voice was reasonably confident.

What sounded like a series of short snorts was really guarded laughter. The latch was lifted and I stepped onto the porch and out of the rain. 

{to be continued}

{thank you Patrick}



Wendy Ch. 05



Wendy Chapter 5 Mrs. P re-enactment

Monday and Tuesday passed without incident. I avoided Sandy and Benney. Or rather, I avoided seeking them out. My first encounter with Benney had been a chance meeting but other contacts with both he and Sandy had been initiated by me.

On Wednesday I ran ‘butt heads’ into Sandy. I had a habit of walking with my head down when I had something on my mind. Sandy must have spotted me and decided to make me notice her. I suspect her tough little head bouncing off of mine was no accident. Especially since she had to jump up three inches to make it happen.

She tried to look surprised. Her mouth flew open and she rubbed her head but her opening speech gave her away. The head butt was intentional.

“Was the meeting with your lawyer a serious emergency?” Her dark eyes sparkled. I searched her face for that cute smile but it did not appear.

“I’m sorry, it came up all of a sudden.” It was feeble. I had not put much effort into the apology and we both knew it. 

“See you around,” her hair swirled as she turned. We both knew better.

That evening the telephone rang while I was studying. I almost knew it would be Wendy as I had still not told her of my ‘phone restrictions.

“What was she wearing?” That habit of bursting into a conversation with a question was becoming annoying.

“She?” I asked knowing whom she was referring to.

“Mrs. P of course.”

“Her name is Lydia, let’s not call her Mrs. P any more,” I said looking at the open books on the table.

“You know that’s not her real name.” Her voice rose at ‘know’ and faded to the raspy sound at ‘real’. A trait I found sexy. I turned off the dining area light and moved to the couch.

“It’s the name she told me to use when I visited her that rainy Saturday night,” I lied. Her given name really started with an L and her last name was Patton. The Patton family was prominent in our town. What if Wendy put it together at some future time? After, say, she got mad at me? I was breaking Ellen’s rule; I was treading on treacherous terrain. 

“Let’s call her Lydia, okay?”

“Okay, she’s your lady friend. It sounded as if it was a dress she was wearing? What color was it? What else? What did her panties look like?”

“Blue,” I answered in a playful mood.

“You always say that,” ‘al-ways’ was emphasized with ‘ways’ drawn out in the course rasp that made chills run down my spine. 

“I know your trial technique. Is that how you will treat people when you get them on the stand? Fire one question after another at them? From now on, don’t ask me what color something is, I’m color blind.”

“Tell me in your own words then.” 

“The pants were plain cotton, probably white, it was dark but I think they were white,” I began coarsely. “Yes, it was a dress and I believe it really was blue but dark blue, darker than navy, almost black. There was a white pattern, like little squares and it had white buttons all the way down the front. I know you’re going to ask what size the buttons were; they were big, about one inch in diameter. Oh, the material was silky but not silk. What did I miss?”

‘Nothing,’ I thought. I had missed nothing about the dress because I knew it like one of my shirts. She wore it that often. She wore it because of the silky feel against her skin. She wore it because there were 13 buttons that often tried my patients by prolonging the suspense. She wore it because it fit loosely and could easily be slipped on in an emergency or could simply be lifted if we were in a rush. 

“Bra?”

“Yes, she was wearing a bra but nothing special. I knew it was there but didn’t get to it.”

“What do you mean by that, didn’t get to it?”

“I didn’t try to get under it. I just felt it with my lips when she was feeling the back of my head.”

“Humm,” Wendy contemplated her next question. As her witness on the stand I waited expectantly, “no slip?”

“Humm,” I mimicked her. “Not that I saw.” 

“How could you see, I thought it was dark?” The ever wary trial lawyer had me cornered. And she was doing it again; the way ‘dark’ rolled off her tongue made me close my eyes and picture how her lips would look as she spoke; open enough to show the white even teeth behind them. I imagined that she was laying flat on the love seat. I wanted to ask if that was her position and what she was wearing but didn’t.

“Figure of speech; I didn’t feel one; that’s what I meant.”

“Was it a dress or a dressing gown?” I was tiring of her line of questioning.

“God, what difference does it make? I would say it was a house dress; something a women throws on to lounge around the house. But I’ll tell you one thing.” I had just thought of something that might satisfy her.

“What,” she said as if I had just stumbled onto the lost key to her jewell box.

“It was loose fitting. The way it hovered around her crotch when she sat on that box. You know it had to be loose fitting to allow her to spread her legs.” I felt like the expert witness whose testimony would sway the jury. I pictured her turning to the judge to say ‘the defense rests’. She did.

“Good bye,” she said as the line went dead.

It was six minutes to eleven. I closed my books and turned out the kitchen light. It was no use going to bed; I knew I would not sleep. 

I thought of that raining Saturday night. Wendy had not shown interest in the story. Nor had she wanted to hear of my other experiences with Ellen during her visit that week before Christmas two years before. Wendy, I decided, was strictly a first timer.

The next afternoon I was on my hands and knees in a flower bed when Wendy stopped at the shop. I was planting tulips which I hoped would bloom in the spring and call attention our supply of bulbs. I was working to get the bed completed; the sun would set within the hour and the earth was cold. I looked up at her.

Her pose was striking. She was dressed in black from the tip of her derby hat to her rain coat to the four inch heel that elevated her to a height I could not match. All I could do was sit there and admire her finery. She was in high spirits. 

“Do you still have the display? I would like to have it decorated and delivered for a small gathering I’m hosting.” She smiled down at me, she eyes fairly glistened.

“It may be out; I don’t think we picked it up yet,” I answered, knowing the display had not been out of the store room for at least one month.

“Can you check? I need it for tomorrow but delivery tonight would be best,” her blunt and to-the-point demand was vintage Wendy.

“You’re not going to do this,” I said, knowing but not wanting to know what she was doing. 

“I’d like 36 long stemmed roses and a yellow ribbon,” she ordered.

“Yellow, I suppose, you know we don’t have that many here?” I noticed the white blouse peeking out from under her rain coat. ‘I’ll bet it has wide pointed collars’, I thought.

“Of course, they must be yellow. Now, come with me and set this up.” She coaxed, beginning to walk toward the shop.

Every order counted. Reluctantly, I joined her on the brick walk. With the derby she was six inches taller than me.

“Those heels would be perfect for a wall job,” I said to deflect my embarrassment for appearing so short.

Her naturally rosy complexion changed shades. I thought for a minute that I had lost an order. 

When she didn’t call on Friday I decided Wendy must still be pissed at my remark. ‘Why would she go to the expense of having three dozen long stemmed roses and the display delivered unless she had alliterative motives?’ I thought. Perhaps she really did have some sort of gathering at her apartment that day. I wondered what Sandy was going to be doing that night. It looked like this would be my first Friday night alone at home in weeks.

I also wondered what Mrs. P was doing and considered calling. We had not spoken since my last attempt and that had been over a year. She hung up the phone and when I re-dialed the number she threatened to have me arrested for harassment. I knew she wouldn’t and told her so. It would have meant that our affair would need to be divulged. I had not called again.

But I visited the house across the street often; the house with the wall in front where I had sat that rainy Saturday night waiting for the children to go to bed. Each time I would always check for a sign that she was home; a casual wave, a gesture, a nod, any sign that she acknowledged my presence, my existence. There was none. I had an excuse to be there. Tad had bought the house before his marriage to Marcie and I was to expected to look in from time to time when they were out of town. 

We had only seen one another once in passing. Her lovely features had taken on a dreary stare as those gray green eyes held me at bay. I was sure she recognized me but there was nothing in her eyes that said so.

“What’s the K. stand for?” I asked when Wendy called that night. It was after nine.

“That’s not important,” she was not in her usual playful mood. “I’m finished with the display,” she said. There was nothing sexy about her voice and she was making no attempt to make it so.

“Sure, I’ll have Walter pick it up tomorrow. What time should he come? Have you removed the roses or will he be expected to do that?”

“I need it out of the apartment tonight. You will need to come over and pick it up.”

“How did the affair go?” I suspected there had not been one. 

“I’ll expect you, say 10 minutes?” 

I backed the van into a space in front of Wendy’s apartment at the Windsor and opened the back door. I rang the door bell and waited. The door swung open and a figure motioned for me to enter. The apartment was dark except for a dim light coming from the kitchen. As we passed it I noted the time on the stove clock. It was 9:37. We were one minute late.

The figure lead me to the stairway and I followed it to a landing about half way up where the display stood, still decorated with roses and the ribbon. 

I had not been on the stairs before. It appeared that they lead to a bedroom and a bathroom on the second floor. Nor had I known where the display had been placed. Walter had delivered it early that morning and Pricilla had arranged the flowers later.

“My children are asleep upstairs so you must do this quietly,” she whispered.

When I bent to get a good hold on the display I heard a hiss behind me.

“Don’t take it without removing the flowers, those are long stemmed roses.”

She disappeared for a minute.

As I waited for Wendy to return, I considered the attention to detail that she had applied to make this re-enactment true to the original script. The place had been darkened and her warning about the sleeping children seemed to be in keeping. And yet it was different; the landing on the stairway substituted for the fireplace at Mrs. P’s home and; we were acting. 

She returned with a basket to hold the roses. I untied the bow and proceeded to remove the prized flowers.

She walked backwards to guide me down the stairs. She warned me repeatedly to be careful. As we approached the kitchen I saw the clock on the stove. It was 10 minutes to ten. ‘Right on time,’ I thought.

She stopped in her tracks causing me to bump into her. It was pitch black I had not anticipated the stop. 

It was not really pitch black; we were still within range of the faint light coming from the clock on the stove. And I had anticipated the stop but I was playing my roll. I made the bump count.

“Cotton?, that’s your name isn’t it?” she whispered as she turned toward me. Unlike Mrs. P, Wendy’s hairline was even with mine and unlike Mrs. P’s dark porch I could make out the large frame and flowing dress of her stand in. 

She could even see my nod but I stuck to the script and answered, “yes, it’s my nickname.”

“Cotton, would you do something for me?”

I bent down so the display would not make any noise when it met the floor, “Sure.”

“I need a roast from the freezer and I can’t reach it, would you?”

I suppressed a laugh. She was really pushing it. Her reach was as long as mine. ‘Where is this freezer?’ I wondered.

She led me to the laundry area at the back of the kitchen where I had seen the washer and dryer. There was enough light from the stove clock to make out the appliances. They stood side by side; there were built in cabinets above them. There was no freezer. 

She opened the top door to the washing machine. 

“It’s there on the left,” she said, holding the door open and pointing inside. I moved around her and leaned into the opening. A football sized package of frozen meat was visible.

“It’s farther down,” I heard her whisper. It was not; that would have been impossible. I could have easily reached in and retrieved the roast; the reservoir was that shallow.

Instead, I acted my part. I buried my head and shoulders inside the cavity. My head made contact with the frozen package and my feet left the floor; but only slightly. I rolled the package; trying to duplicate the sound that I had described. 

“That’s it,” she said. I wondered how she could tell. Perhaps it was because there was only one package of frozen meat in the washing machine. I pretended to extend my arms in an effort to reach the bottom. In reality, it was so cramped inside the washer that I could not move down enough to shift my weight over the side. Unlike my excursion inside the freezer, I had to raise my legs or to make them leave the floor.

Satisfied that I could not stuff more of my body inside I grabbed the bundle in one hand and pushed with the other. I raised my legs high to gain leverage then reversed their direction to propel my body up and out. 

I anticipated the blow to my head and purposely delayed my ascent to shield my head from the inevitable. The washing machine door was light and did not compare to the thick freezer lid. I did not expect a single piece of metal to even sting. What I did not consider was Wendy’s dedication to realism. 

In her attention to detail she conpensated for the difference in weight between the heavy freezer lid and the washing machine door by summoning all of her strength and energy to bring the door down. On my head.

I dropped the meat and slumped into the cavity. There was a ringing sensation in my ears as I felt the door bounce on my shoulders, again and again. Instead of the cold steam that had flooded my nostrils while I was buried in the freezer there was a stale smell of laundry detergent. Otherwise, Wendy had duplicated the incident perfectly. And it had been accomplished with substitute props. 

She became a bundle of terror. From where my head rested against the cold meat wrapper I could hear her stammer, wheeze, cough and make choking sounds.

“Don’t bother with the roast,” she coached as she raised the door.

I was determined to bring up the prize. Like a quarterback, I grabbed the ball in both hands and tucked it under my left arm. With an exaggerated move I flipped myself over the side and fumbled the ball. The package sprayed from my grasp and hit the floor rolling. 

The door slammed down, echoing the sound the dropped package had made. Unruffled by the noises we had made, Wendy grasp me with both hands and pulled me to her.

In actuality, the roast had not rolled far and since there were no children sleeping in her upstairs there was no reason for her to be ruffled. 

Contrary to the original rehearsal, my head had taken a sharp blow. When she grasp me with both hands and pulled me to her I wondered if I would faint. 

When her body was pinned between me and the dryer my legs were actually wobbly and my weight was pressed against her because I was in danger of sinking to the floor. This went unnoticed by Wendy; she must have thought I was following the script. She was.

I felt her warm thighs touch mine. She made halted gasping sounds and her body shook. 

She prompted me by placing my hands on at her sides. I caught on and clutched the top of the dryer to brace myself against sliding down. 

She placed her hands on mine. I felt her press down on my hands. Her first try to lift her body to the dryer was a bust. She had only succeeded in mashing my hands and barely clearing the floor. Her second attempt was not much better.

Pushing me away as if to say ‘I can do this,’ her third try would have earned a blue ribbon. I wondered if she had practiced the lift.

Unlike Mrs. P’s nimble spring to the edge of the freezer Wendy landed rump hard in the middle of the dryer; her back, after a bounce that rattled the wall, leaned snug against the cabinets. Unlike Mrs. P, Wendy had not maintained contact with me and I was on becoming more unsteady on my feet. 

She moved forward on the dryer as much as she dared and reached for me. Her skirt was bunched up around her crotch and her bare legs were spread to accept me. But try as she did she was unable to fold her legs back to the side of the box to give me a rest for my arms. Her hands found the back of my head. Gingerly, she patted it as if checking for blood or a raised spot. When I winced sobs escaped her lips.

My face was pressed to her bosom and her chin rested on my head. She cradled my head in her arms. 

We moved in a gentle rocking motion for what seemed like minutes. Everything was going to plan. The script was being followed.

But Wendy became impatient. She clutched me to her and pressed her pantied pussy to my chest. When her hands found my shoulders I thought she was going to make the move to remove my jacket as I had described.

Instead, she lifted me by the jacket then pushed me down in an effort to establish friction between us; her pussy against my chest. I got the idea and took over. She let up on the pressure. At some point my jacket was removed. 

I lifted my head and she bent down to meet me. She crushed her lips to mine; her tongue was on fire. Together we made an attempt to move to the prone position on the appliances. As Wendy leaned to her right I placed my knee on top of the dryer and my hand on the washing machine to boost myself aloft.

What I had not counted on were the cabinets above the machines. As my shoulder met the underside of the cabinet frame I wondered if Wendy had really thought this out. ‘Had she taken measurements?’ The two appliances were about 24 inches deep as compared to the freezer which must have been 42 inches. ‘This would not be a good time to bring it up,’ I thought. She was probably in no mood for a critique.

I was in her clutches. As I lifted my knee to the place between her legs she grabbed my thigh and brought it hard against her pussy. Our lips were crushed together. Her head, which was hanging over the side of the washer, was moving so much that her motion was rocking both appliances. It was then that I discovered the dryer was slightly taller than the washer and, one of them, I think it was the washer, had not been leveled properly.

I moved my hand up her inner thigh and made contact with her panties which were soaked. I felt inside and penetrated her. This was when her jump slammed me against the underside of the cabinets. I attempted to pull her pants down but with only one hand it was no use.

In her eagerness to duplicate Mrs. P’s move and free herself of her panties Wendy pushed me away too hard and I dropped to the floor. I don’t believe she noticed. I heard a grunt as her knee bumped the cabinets in her attempt to bring her right leg up and push the panties down as Mrs. P had done.

I was ‘prepared’ because I knew Wendy would not make the same mistake Mrs. P had made. I slid my pants and shorts down and rolled a rubber on my cock. As I hopped back atop the appliances I wondered if what I was going through was worth it. My throbbing cock told me it was. By the time I rejoined her Wendy had shed her panties and bunched her dress around her waist. 

Like an animal trainer, she tapped my leg. Dutifully, I moved between her legs. 




Wendy Ch. 05



It was a direct hit. My prick could have found its target without my fingers guiding it. And there was no hitch. Another stroke and I would be all the way in. I was in the process of a backstroke so I could do a second shove when I felt her hands; pushing me.

“What the fuck?” I said as I pulled out.

“We didn’t do it right,” she whispered.

“What the fuck, why are you whispering and what was not right about it?” 

She took hold of my cock and that’s when it hit me. ‘She’s checking the rubber.’

Satisfied, she pulled me to her. 

“No, that’s too high.” She whispered. 

She tried it again and we were joined. After the confusion surrounding ‘getting it right’ I was somewhat turned off. But she was like engine number 4 heading to a fire and I got caught up in her enthusiasm. 

The cabinets above us were a real pain in the ass; mine. My back hit them on every back stroke and when Wendy pounded her fists on my back she punished the cabinets more than me. When she tried Mrs. P’s trick of folding her legs back and lifting her butt off the surface her knee jarred the underside of the cabinets and sent a can of Ajax tumbling down upon me and then the floor. 

Still, it was pretty good. 

I stopped, partly because it was in the script and partly because my back needed a break from the beating it was taking. She must have been expecting it because her heels immediately stabbed the back of my legs to get me going. Unlike Mrs. P, Wendy was not able to dig her heels into my buttocks.

“Fuck me!” She said. “Hard!”

And I obeyed. ‘Hell with the low cabinets, hell with the uneven platform, hell with the narrow surface,’ I thought. 

I slowed to a comfortable pace and found that by shortening the strokes I could avoid bumping the cabinets. This also lessened the beating I was taking from Wendy’s fists and her bucking was reduced to meeting my thrusts with gentle greetings.

Her head was still hanging over the side of the washing machine and her ass rested on the dryer which was slightly higher than the other machine. There was a small ridge around the edge of the dryer which gave my knees leverage but that same ridge must have been making a groove in Wendy’s back. 

She paid no attention to the discomfort. In the dim light I could see that blood had rushed to her head making her forehead and cheeks unusually red. The dress between us was awash with perspiration and the aroma of sex in the enclosed area eclipsed the smells of laundry soaps and bleach.

Her hands drew me down and she whispered in my ear. ‘Just a little more.’

This seemed strange to me because I knew she had come twice; once when her fist struck my back so hard it knocked the wind from me and when her leg hit the cabinet making a door fly open. Both times her head had popped up and I could see it in her eyes. I felt her pussy walls grip my cock. 

“I’m so close, please, give me one more.”

“Like that,” her voice was a faint whimper, “yes, like that, please, please, I’m, that’s it, yessss.”

‘How does she do that?’ I wondered. ‘We’re in the middle of an orgasm and she is quoting from Mrs. P as if they were her own words.’ 

I quickened the pace and let myself go, or cum as it were, with no regard for her pleasure. 

I collapsed, her legs straightened and I no longer felt her hands on my head.

“Get up, get off of me,” she was tapping my side. 

I knew the routine. The floor felt good under my feet. I left her to make it down the best way she could. As far as I was concerned the re-enactment was over.

“Cotton,” I heard her call from her doorway as I slammed the rear door of the van. 

I turned, she was standing in her darkened doorway but the outline her in the dress ‘tent’ was visible. Although I could not see the expression on her face I imagined it from the sound of her voice when she had called to me. I knew her green eyes were searching; I knew there was concern in them and I knew it was genuine.

“Thank you,” she called. And the door closed. 

‘You’re welcome,’ I thought. ‘I’ll get a roast out of your freezer any time. Next time we’ll put in on spin dry.’

[to be continued]

{thank you Patrick}



Wendy Ch. 06



“I had to cut one of the buttons off,” Wendy said. She turned to display the dress she had worn the previous Friday night when we had frolicked on the laundry appliances. 

I inspected the dress as this was the first time I had seen it in the light. It had obviously been laundered. It was remarkably similar to the dress I had described. The material and color matched those of the dress worn by Mrs. P on more occasions than I could count. The buttons were white and about one inch in diameter. I could not tell where the 14th button had been extracted from. The size was the only difference in the two dresses; this one was several sizes larger.

“Perfect,” I said approvingly. It was obvious that there was no other clothing under the dress.

We had agreed that the dress that opened down the front would be suitable for our ‘date’ when Wendy had called me about my remark.

“What did that mean?” she began questioning me as soon as I picked up the phone. As usual she took me by surprise. “What are you talking about?”

“What you said about a wall job, you said my high heels would be perfect for one.”

It took all of five minutes for me to explain that I was joking about how the high heels that she had worn the day she stopped by to order a floral arrangement would be perfect for a wall job. 

She had played dumb saying that she thought I was serious and wanted to know what a wall job was. 

Although I suspected that she knew I was joking that day and I also suspected that she knew very well what a wall job was, I gave her a complete description of the act and she listened attentively. I had a nagging thought that her knowledge, no matter how acquired, was greater than mine. 

I failed to divulge my personal lack of experience with the position. I did, however, offer to demonstrate for her how I thought it worked.

“How’s Friday night? Say 7:30?” 

So there we stood in Wendy’s apartment, both expectant and nervous, about to try something new to us.

We had discussed dress but I was a little dubious about there being nothing beneath it. The shoes, of course, were a given.  

“It’s usually done outdoors,” I suggested, thinking she would have understood that. Using a ‘wall’ is done out of necessity; there is no bed available and it’s too cold to do it on the lawn. I hoped that she would take the hint and grab a coat because we were into November and it was getting nippy outside.

Wendy’s face clouded like it always did when she became perplexed. It was apparent that she was not in favor of venturing outside to look for a suitable wall.

“Or not,” I wavered.

The cloud vanished. It was as if the sun had come out. “Pick one,” she said as she motioned around the room.

I surveyed the apartment and considered the sturdiness of the interior walls. It would be better to choose an exterior wall with layers of brick or cinderblook behind the wallboard. Paintings and photographs lined nearly every wall of the living room. I spotted the stair landing where we had removed the display; there were pictures there too. 

I thought of the laundry space. That was an exterior wall, I had seen the cinder blocks. The appliances occupied most of that wall but there was space on both sides. This was probably the only place in the apartment without framed artwork of one kind or another.

I took Wendy by the hand and led her to the laundry area. She was not impressed about my choice; the pout was returning to her face. I pounded on the painted blocks to demonstrate their strength and looked up at her to get her approval. 

She relented. “Can we at least turn out the lights so I don’t have to look at the other wall?” I yielded.

I backed her up to the space next to the dryer and gave her a kiss. She separated her legs but it did little to lessen our difference in height. It came to me that two inch heels would have done the trick. 

I pressed her body to the wall and she warmed to the attention. I whispered ‘one’ as I unbuttoned the top one. Not to be outdone, Wendy began undressing me. “One,” she said as she tossed my shirt on the dryer. By the time she got to my belt buckle I had unfastened four of her buttons and had one of her nipples in my mouth.

“Thirteen,” I said as she tossed my shorts on the dryer. She wanted to keep the dress on and I preferred to have my socks; otherwise, we were naked. I played with her ass cheeks and she cooed. My cock was jumpy; it nudged her pussy and she cooed more. 

Wendy took my cock in her hand and sort of patted it against the lips of her cunt. She broke our kiss to suck in air. She ran my prick up and down her pussy. A humming sound was coming from her lips. I couldn’t help noticing how moist she was.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” She whispered in my ear, her voice had that raspy tone that I found so sexy.

Reluctantly, I lifted my leg and extracted the condom from my sock. She relinquished my cock so I could roll the rubber on. Knowing she would want to inspect the job I reached for her hand and let her feel the latex covering. She voiced her approval, “mmmmm.”

I placed my hands between the cheeks of her ass and her dress against the wall. Her ass was soft and warm. The wall was hard and cold. She moved her pelvis forward as I cupped her cheeks, seeking my member. She broke our kiss.

“I can’t do this,” she whispered, pushing me away.

“What?” I didn’t believe my ears. She was already fumbling with the buttons on her dress.

“I told you, I just can’t,” she said. The finality of the statement was clear but I was beside myself. 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I knew I was showing my immaturity. I was whining. I was also frustrated and pissed. 

“It feels cheap, I can’t do it.”

I was not looking for an explanation. No reason would have made sense to me at that moment. Nor would trying to change her mind do any good but I challenged her anyway.

“It’s supposed to feel cheap. That’s what it’s all about.” I caught myself. My voice had risen to an unflattering level and I knew I had hit a wall. (no pun intended)

Wendy eased herself by me and walked out of the room. I found my clothes and got dressed in the dark.

“How about a glass of wine,” she called out as I was letting myself out the front door. Her voice was chipper and her face had its usual all-is-right-with-the-world glow.

I stared at her incredulously for a full minute then turned to leave.

“It’s already poured, it’s merlot this time,” she said gleefully. 

I turned toward her and shook my head. I felt the rubber rolling down my limp prick. I had to laugh. ‘What a fucking predicament,’ I thought as I walked to the chair at the end of the coffee table.

“What does the ‘K” stand for?” I asked, referring to her middle initial which I had seen on the underside of the coffee table.

“Why don’t you tell me the rest of that story,” she said without answering my question.

“Which story,” I asked as if there were several unfinished stories.

“The Saturday night when you waited in the rain for the lights to go out and Mrs. P took pity and let you in. That one.” Wendy’s bare feet were on the coffee table and she looked comfortable with the wine glass in her hand and an expectant smile on her face.

I took a sip of the wine and continued the story. 

Mrs. P let me in but was very distant with me. I followed her back to the kitchen.
As we passed the freezer I stopped to take special notice. It stood higher that I
had imagined. What if we had fallen off? The thought provoked a grin on my face.
I shed my dripping jacket and threw it on the freezer. ‘Getting organized for an abrupt
exit in case it comes to that,’ I thought. 

“I’m baking cookies,” she announced as she took her place at the center work island. There was a detached tone in her voice as if she was proclaiming her pet rat had just died.

It was evident that I was not welcome. I kept my distance by standing with my back to the sink which was in front of the work island where she was mixing cookie dough. The clock on the stove behind her read 10:17.

She was wearing the same tan slacks I had seen that morning at the flower shop. An apron covered a flowered blouse which prohibited me from counting its buttons. The
make up that she had worn that morning had been removed. The line in her forehead 
was missing but her mood was sour.

Her hands moved with dexterity. More flour, milk was added, the mixing spoon spun around the bowl, the consistency of the batter was tested and chocolate chips were added. A cookie sheet was greased and dough was measured out. I wondered if I could call her ‘Cookie’ from now on. 

She looked up from her work and saw me watching her. It was a startled look as if she had forgotten I was there.

“I meant what I said,” our eyes locked and lingered, “not a word, do you understand?” Her eyes were fixed on me. They were beautiful.

“I understand,” I answered, nodding solemnly. “I have just one question.”

She had looked away, having released me from her stare. 

She looked back, annoyed. “Yes?” She said, then turned to the stove and opened the door.

“What color are your eyes? They’re beautiful but I can’t tell if they are gray or 
bluish green,” I said with genuine interest. 

The oven door slammed shut and she turned; her beautiful eyes blazed with anger.

“Don’t take that patronizing attitude with me you little twerp,” she screamed as her hand slammed down on the work table causing flour to cloud the air and the milk
bottle to bounce. Surprised at her own action, Mrs. P placed her hand over her
mouth as if she could catch the scream that had escaped her lips.

She capped the milk bottle and tucked it into the refrigerator. Then, on tiptoes 
she stepped gingerly along the darkened hall. I held my breath as I watched her 
until she disappeared into the shadows.

Relief shown on her face when she returned to the kitchen. Calmly, she spun the
timer dial on the stove to the desired baking time. I wondered how long it would take
for the cookies to bake. Did I have 10 minutes? 15? Surely, the timer would
signal more than the cookies being done; most likely it would also mean my exit.
‘Good thing I know where my jacket is stashed,’ I thought. It was pouring outside.

“Would you like to lick the spoon? My children like to do that.” Her outstretched
arm held the stirring spoon as she placed tops on canisters with her free hand.

I did not move; certain it was a trap. While I desperately wanted to be
near her, licking the spoon would validate her notion that I was a lad of 16 and young
enough to be her son. When I stayed put she looked up; the spoon with its
residue of cookie dough was still in being offered.

“No?” Her brow wrinkled and she shook her head as if it was a mystery to her that I had not accepted the spoon. 

She was treating me like a child and it was infuriating. I considered leaving but
the sound of rain splashing against the outer porch windows kept me planted. 

The work area had been cleared. Only a dusting of flour remained which she was
picking up with a cloth as she began to speak.

“I know how young boys brag about their conquests,” she looked briefly at me “I hope you were telling the truth, it would be devastating for me if anyone found out. Anyone!”

Her look was piercing. Her eyes were pleading. She was frightened. Her disposition was infectious. A lump in my throat blocked my thought from emerging. 

Tears welled in my eyes and we were both swallowing hard. I walked around the center island and took her hand. She wilted toward me. Her body was quivering.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered in her ear. Her hair tickled my nose and I remembered
the aroma. “No one will know. No one.”

“You don’t understand. It’s more than someone finding out. What if I were to become pregnant? People would find out then, wouldn’t they? I would go to jail for what I did.” Her body vibrated against mine.

I had to admit that I had considered the consequences if she were to become
pregnant but I had not thought of her going to jail for having sex with a minor
because I knew I would never tell. I tried to put those thoughts into words.

“You can forget the first part; I would never tell anyone. I just wouldn’t.”
How could I convince her of my sincerity. “I never fuck and tell!” 

“You what?” She yelled as she broke away from her. “Where did you
get that?” She had abandoned all caution to keep her voice low. “You never
fuck and tell? How many women have you fucked?” There was contempt in her eyes.

I knew that she didn’t really want an answer to her last question. She was not
the curious type about such things. But it served my purpose to provide an answer.

“Just one,” I said “before you.”

Her head was moving slowly from side to side. “I don’t believe you.”

“Its true,” I countered “just one. She’s the one who gave me the advice to never
fuck and tell,” I said in all seriousness.

“A woman gave you that advice?” There was a hint of a grin at her lip line.

Perhaps she was enjoying quizzing a teenager about what he knew. I decided to 
play along.

“Yes she did. She also told me to be prepared. That’s why I said I was sorry.
Because I did not have a condom that night.”

“Do you usually carry a condom?” She was playing into my hand.

“Yes ma’am, I do. It’s just that the other night I ran out without one.” 

“Did you bring one tonight?” Her head cocked to one side awaiting my answer.
I noticed that her body seemed more relaxed.

“Yes ma’am, I did.” Should I tell her I actually have two?

“Let’s see it,” she demanded.

I lifted my right leg and retrieved the rubber from my sock. 

She took it from me and held it up to the light to examine the package. 

“How old is this thing?”

She leaned over the work counter and placed her elbows on the surface. She
fingered the package in a curious manner. 

“I haven’t seen one of these in years,” she said.

“It’s not old,” I said. I placed my arms on the counter and leaned in. Our bodies
were inches apart. The aroma of the cookies baking saturated the kitchen.

“Do you know how to wear it?”

“Of course,” her teasing was making me indignant. 

Her smile changed the outline of her face and the mood in the kitchen. I leaned
over and kissed her cheek gently. She didn’t react one way or another. The timer
made a buzzing sound.

She removed the cookie tray from the oven and placed it on pads on the work surface.

“Careful,” she said “it’s hot.” She moved sideways and switched off the overhead
light leaving only the clock light to guide her back to where I was standing.

“Here,” she said, handing me the rubber. “I don’t think you will be needing that
tonight.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” I said, placing the rubber in my shirt pocket.

“What’s that?,” she asked. She stood close to me. I felt her breath as she whispered.

“The color of your eyes. Do you know what color they are Mrs. P?”

I felt a peck on my cheek. “Flattery will get you nothing but a cookie in this kitchen,” she laughed. There were small stains on her cheeks where tears had come to a stop and dried.

“You can’t answer because you don’t know either,” I said with an air of triumph.

“That’s true,” she said “I never could tell. You can call me Lydia, Mrs. P makes me feel old.”

I rubbed her shoulder. She did not respond but didn’t move away. That was a good sign. I moved my hand to the back of her neck and made little tracing motions there. 

“Watch the hot tray. It’s near your left arm,” she said as her body leaned into mine.

I tried to kiss her but she resisted. It was clear that she only wanted me to hold her
which I was glad to do. My rump was against the work counter. If we were reversed,
I thought, and if she were to hop up on the table we could repeat the adventure we
had on the freezer. But the cookies on the hot tray would be in the way. That
was the hot and cold of it.

My fingers traced her spinal column from her neck to the small of her back. I could
almost count the bones. I palmed the indented section of her back. She melted into
me and moved her cheek snug against mine. My hands slipped to her ass cheeks
and pulled her closer. It was then that she moved her face to be kissed.

For the next 10 minutes we worked together with only one goal; that was to squeeze every part of our bodies together as tightly as possible. Our tongues were braided
together, her breasts crunched my chest and her thighs were devilishly pressed to mine.

She stood on tiptoes and dry humped my cock which was straight out and hard. I moved my hands to her tits and squeezed. She broke seal at our mouths long enough to whisper, “do that, do that,” then reattached our lips.

She came and almost collapsed. Her arms fell limp at her side. I caught her and held her against me for what seemed like minutes. She was gulping for air and making swallowing sounds and purring all at the same time. My cock was painfully hinged between us.

I felt a peck on my cheek and her arms came around my neck for support.

She took my hand. She walked backwards and I followed her to a door at the other side of the kitchen which I had taken for a pantry or a half bath. 

Lydia switched on a small lamp and turned to close and lock the door. The room was only about eight feet wide but ran the depth of the kitchen, about eighteen feet. The
lamp sat on a small dressing table near the door. At the far end of the room was a sewing machine and chair surrounded by shelving filled with seamstress paraphernalia. 
The only other furniture was a small single bed. Lydia pulled down the window blinds opposite to the bed but did not bother with the rear window that looked out onto the porch. 

She made a jerking motion to free her blouse from the waistband of her slacks and
begin to unbutton it. Her look told me to do the same. I matched her every
move. We kicked off our shoes and shed our pants. She turned for me to unfasten
her bra. As the straps slid over her shoulders I cupped her breasts and my cock 
probed her butt. She wiggled out of my clutches and turned to me.

“Put it on,” she whispered. 

“Huh?” I was trying to lower my shorts without breaking my cock. 

“Let me see you put it on,” there was a tone of impatience in her voice.

I retrieved the rubber from the pocket of my discarded shirt and stripped it
from its outer package. She watched intently as I checked the direction of the
roll before unrolling the rubber up my cock. It was a tight fit. She nodded
her approval.

The bed was really just a cot. She bent and placed one hand on it and pressed firmly to make the springs squeak. A combination frown and grin crossed her face as
she shook her head and looked my way to see that I understood why we could
not use it. Instead, she lifted a coverlet from the bed and spread it on the floor. 

All this time I had marveled at the shape of her body. It was perfect. 
“Turn off the light,” she ordered. We were standing not far apart. I was naked except for my socks. She still wore her panties. The sag in her breasts was slight and her stomach was almost flat. Her powerful legs were firm and shapely.

“Let’s not,” I said as I reached for her wanting to burry my face between her tits. 

The determination on her face and the squareness of her shoulders made it clear that she wanted the light off. My preference was to keep it on.

There was a short struggle. In and effort to bring her to the floor I dropped to my knees and surrounded her legs with my arms. She resisted. Her powerful legs would not budge and her hands were pushing on my shoulders. 

She was able to take a step toward the lamp. This was followed by short kicks to my legs; near my cock. I was loosing my grip on her legs. She took another step and it was clear that she could drag me all the way to the light if she was not distracted. As she took another step I lunged toward her panty covered pussy and blew as hard as I could. Her body straightened and her hands moved from my shoulders to the back of my head. Her panties were soaked. My tongue pushed them into her opening and moved the fabric within her. Her pelvis pressed against my mouth and she made little gasping sounds. 




Wendy Ch. 06



She seemed to like the friction against her pussy. I maintained the contact, moving my tongue up and down her slit. 

“Are we going to fuck or hold hands?” She said as her body met the coverlet. 
 My hands found the waistband of her panties and she lifted her butt to accommodate their removal. Any thought of dousing the light had evaporated. 

I couldn’t wait to explore her pussy. The hair was damp and matted around her lips which looked soft and puffy. As my tongue made the slightest contact her whole body vibrated in a spasm.

I sensed that her head had popped up. “What are you doing?” I paid no attention to the question but I was aroused at how it sounded; as if she was being awakened from a pleasant dream and resented the disruption. 
My tongue pressed inward to open her labia. Her feet were flat on the floor; they braced and pushed her butt off the floor. Those beautiful legs opened wide.

I made long strokes; up and down; caressing the length of her pussy. Her arms were extended; her hands clasp to the coverlet. Her head popped up.

“What....what....what are...,” her head dropped. 

She jerked backward and those strong thighs engulfed my head and immobilized it. I licked again and she clamped down even more.

I found the clit. Or it found me when it emerged from its cover and puckered when my tongue teased it. 
“Yes!” Mrs. P’s hands had found my head and clamped there; forcing me tight to her. Her pelvis stabbed into the air; carrying my head along in a wild ride.

When her hands relaxed their hold on my head and her butt came to rest I knew she had climaxed. But I did not let up my assault on her sensitive nub. I was rewarded with continued convulsions as her midsection quivered and constant moans emerged from her lips. I continued to lick as her movements slowed to a stop.

“Wha...what are you doing?” It was as if she had awaken to find me between her legs. I looked up and saw her eyes. There was an inquisitive look of fascination on her face which reminded me of a cat with a ball of yarn. Her eyes even looked catlike. She
was ready to pounce if the yarn moved. 

I was thankful that the lights had remained on. I was weary of the grip she had on
my head. She could snap my neck if I made a lick that she did not anticipate but
at least I would be able to watch her do it.

Her reactions to the stimulation astounded me. A brief touch brought a shudder to
her body that lessened her grip briefly. When my stiffened tongue lingered she
put her legs in motion to rock my head. My hard tongue was fucking her. I did not dare
slacken it or pull back. 

Her arms were extended at her sides with her hands pressed to the floor to help
life her butt off of the coverlet. The length of the rocking motion increased as did
her moans.

It went on for minutes. Lydia was no longer watching the action. Her head was
bent back and her face was screwed into a weird contortion. Her tongue protruded
from one side of her mouth. The rocking continued relentlessly.

There was another shudder and a long gasp. Her hands came to my head as the grip her legs had on it loosened. Soft strokes alternated between smoothing and mussing my hair. 

My head was groggy and my neck felt stretched. My tongue had gone to sleep. I tested my new freedom by wiggling it side to side. When it hit the little nub it got Lydia’s
attention. Her hands which had been curling my hair suddenly begin to rub me bald.

I wiggled my tongue again and heard a clucking sound as if she was a mother hen
calling her chicks. Her hands rested only until I flicked her clit twice more. They 
clamped down as her pelvis jumped and I felt a flood wash over my chin. Her
whole body shook as the clucking continued.

At first she appeared shocked when I entered her but soon her arms encircled my back and crushed me to her. She wrapped her legs around my ass and I felt her feet prod
my buttocks with each thrust. We moved together and yet not quite in sync. There was
a wild urgency in her nudges which was throwing me off.

I slowed but her feet continued to pound my backside until I stopped. 

She opened her eyes and stared up at me, surprise on her face. I tried to kiss her
but she would not have it. My dripping chin must have turned her off.

“Let me do this,” I whispered. 

She nodded. But I felt her cunt contract encouragement against me as she closed her eyes. 

I began slowly with long strokes. But soon she was telling me what to do, ‘faster...harder....yes....more..’ 

I tried to comply. Soon her legs were folded in that compact position and
her hands helped support her ass. I heard her say, ‘I’m coming’ at least twice
as I pounded her. Each time she would relax her hands and let her butt drop but only
briefly. Her legs maintained the ‘pulled back’ position that she favored. Soon
her butt would be raised again to give me a straighter shot.

I think she could have gone on but I tired and let my balls have their way and
announced my choice. “I’m coming,” I said too loudly. She relaxed her legs and
brought her lips to mine. 

Spent, I propped myself on my elbows and hovered inches above her heaving breast; not wanting to interfere with her labored breathing. We stayed like that for minutes; catching our breath. Neither of us spoke. Her eyes were shut and when she did open them she did not look at me. She turned her head and gazed in the direction of the sewing machine which stood lifeless at the far end of the room.

I pulled out slowly; making a sucking sound. My cock relaxed against my leg. Its job done, evidenced by the bubble filled with creamy fluid, the rubber lost its grip.

“Give it to me,” she said, pointing to the rubber. I lifted to my knees to extract the
condom from my limber limb. She raised herself to rest on her elbows; her legs remained
open with me between them. She used my shoulder to propel herself to a standing position
then bent down to take the condom from me. She held it at the opening with two fingers
and paddled off, her ass cheeks giggled slightly as she walked to the door and out of the
room. I laid back on the coverlet and took a deep breath.

I couldn’t help comparing this to our first time on the freezer when she had ordered me to get off of her and demanded that I leave immediately. She was almost friendly; would this time be different?

She returned to the room and locked the door. I was now leaning against the cot.
She took a seat next to me and held a cookie to my mouth for me to take a bite
then she shoved the other half into her mouth.

“If more than one disappears my kids will get suspicious because they know I seldom eat them,” she explained. 

She leaned against the cot and I put my arm around her and touched her shoulder.
Her body melted against me. I kissed her on the forehead. 

“That was amazing, where did you learn to do that?” Her eyes searched my face for an answer. A finger flicked a crumb from my lips; a slight smile crossed her lips as we
watched it bounce down my chest to land near my flaccid cock. 

I stroked her shoulder and said, “I had a good teacher.”

We sat with our legs open, touching at our knees. My lips grazed hers and she did not resist. I kissed her deeper and she kissed back. I felt her hand squeeze my leg. 

“This was the maid’s room when the Pattons live here,” she said when we broke the kiss.

“I use it as a sewing room and a place to be to myself. That’s why the lock is on the door.” It was as if I was owed an explanation for the lock.

“Handy,” I nodded approvingly.

“Don’t get the idea you can make a habit of this.” I felt her tensing. “This is the first time I’ve done anything like this and you’re so....”

“How about the other night?” I said, reminding her of our cavort on the freezer.

“This was much better, I really let myself go tonight.” 

“You mean you didn’t let yourself go the other time?” I was reminded or her saying, ‘Fuck me’ and the way she had dug her heels into my buttocks.

She sort of chuckled, “I was scarred we would fall off.”

“You to?” I laughed.

“It did get pretty wild didn’t it. That was my first time in over three years and I was so fearful that I was leading you astray.” She looked at me to see if I understood what
she was saying. “You’re so young but you’ve already been lead astray, haven’t you?”

“You can lead me astray any time you want,” I grinned.

“I meant what I said. This is the last time. Don’t come back. I won’t let you in again.” She took her hand off of my leg and put distance between us. Her eyes
had a serious look as if to say, ‘believe-me!’

“I was your first in over three years?” I asked incredulously. 

“Is that so hard to believe? I haven’t gone out looking for it you know. I do have
a reputation and there are the children. What do you take me for?” She said accusingly.

I tried to draw her close. I wanted to comfort her, assure her but she wasn’t having it. She kept her distance. But ‘god’, those tits were ever present and I wanted to touch them.

“It’s just that you are a beautiful women, Lydia. I would think you would be swamped with...ah..you know.”

“What am I going to do, sleep with a married guy who will tell the whole town and hope his wife doesn’t find out. How many eligible bachelors under forty do you know? I
said eligible, mind you, there’s no such thing.”

“I see what you mean but what about your husband?” I immediately wished I hadn’t asked that question.

“He’s out of the picture.” I thought that was all she was going to say but soon she
seemed to want to talk. “His family is in lumber. When we met he didn’t want anything
to do with business. We were young students with higher ideals than making money
and doing all the things capitalist do. But when I got pregnant with Lisa we had to make
some changes in the way we thought.” She stopped and looked at me, “You can see now
why I’m so scarred about what happened the other night?”

Her head shook in disbelief for a second then she continued. “We had to ask his family for money and they made us feel obliged to them. His older brother was to run the
business but we were expected to come here to look after the old folks. And we did that
until five years ago when they died. That’s when his brother told Bradley he was needed
out west. We lived apart for the next two years. I refused to move to Oregon so Brad
came home one week end per month for the first year. But the time between visits
lengthened to five weeks and then six. You can see what happened. I got soured with the
whole thing and he met one of those young Oregon gals.”

Lydia stopped and pondered as if she was surprised she had exposed the family dirt.

“Brad sounds like an ass hole, how could he let you go?” I said; thinking of the way those legs of hers bent back to allow more of me to enter her. I was trying to console her.

“No, I’m just as much of an ass hole. I got caught up with the society scene and forgot about our ideals. We lost touch. It’s hard to go five or six weeks and then jump back into the sack with someone. I didn’t even miss the sex for a long time.”

“That’s hard to believe,” I said, thinking about how hot she was.

“You’re a nice boy,” she was back close to me and her hand was resting on my leg but I was distraught at her calling me a boy. I decided to not let it bother me.

“How do you do that?” I asked, placing my hand on her muscular thigh. 

She seemed to know that I was asking about her ability to fold her legs back and raise her butt or raise her legs straight in the air and hold them that way. I had her pegged for a ballerina.

“I was a gymnast in high school and college; my arms are strong too but it’s the legs that makes me a good fuck, don’t you think?” She had a devilish expression on her face. She was not fishing for a compliment; just stating a fact.

“God, do I, that’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen. Did Brad like that?”

“Yes, but let’s not talk about Bradley anymore, okay?”

“Fine by me,” I said. We were close again. Our bodies exchanged heat and I rubbed her shoulder and back to keep her from getting chilled. I liked being naked with her. I touched her thigh as if I was admiring the muscle tone. 

She turned as I rubbed her leg. We kissed and I felt her breasts against my chest.
I opened my mouth and traced her lips with my tongue. My arms explored her
back and pulled her rump to me. 

A skidding sound came from the cot as it moved slightly from our movement but 
she did not seem to notice. My cock had hardened and it made contact with her
stomach. I bent it downward and released it; causing a smacking sound when it bounced
against her thigh. Her leg raised and our pelvises moved in unison. My tongue roamed her
mouth and there was a wet feeling against my cock.

The cot moved again and made a raking sound as it hit the wall.

“We can’t do this,” her breath was halting as she pulled away from me.

I wondered if she was testing my honesty or if she really had not seen the 
slight bulge the condom made in my sock. I decided to test her.

“I can pull out,” I said with a conviction that would have convinced a jury.
‘I could always surprise her by pulling the rubber out of my sock if it came
to that,’ I thought.

“I’ve heard that one before,” she laughed as she pulled farther away.

“I’ll pull out and cum on your back,” this was my last chance.

“Who taught you that?” Her voice was sarcastic but she knew the answer.

I leaned in and took one of her nipples in my mouth. Her immediate reaction was
to grip my head in a effort to push it away but I had caught her off guard. Her
hands relaxed as my tongue flicked the nipple. My hand found her other tit
and gently twisted its nipple. 

Her lips came to my ear and she whispered, “are you sure?”

[to be continued]



Wendy Ch. 07



Wendy Chapter 7 According to Mrs. P

I went to the flower shop that Saturday morning on the pretense of paying the bill for the floral arrangements that had been delivered to my home a few days before. But that was not my main purpose in dropping by the shop. I had waited until Saturday morning to settle the bill because I knew Cotton would be there and I wanted to speak with him, to see if he had blabbed about our....my..’indiscretion.’

He stood off to one side, pretending to be occupied with some boxes that had just arrived, while I complained to Marcie about being overcharged because of a mismatched basket that they had brought to my home the previous Tuesday. She apologized for the mistake and made some good points about the odd basket not really having detracted from the overall exhibition but she was no match for me. The underlying fact was that one word from me to the right people would destroy any hope she had of getting other decorating work from my ‘friends’ or me. In the end, I won and she deducted a small percentage from my bill.

Satisfied, I steered Cotton out the door for a private talk. 

I’m Lydia Patton, the reining queen of bitches. This is my narration as to what happened between Cotton and myself. As to the moniker, my neighbors would describe me as the queen of bitches because I portray the roll to perfection. Even my sorority sisters view me in the same light although they endure my quirky demands and irritable moods because they must. I have the money and reputation to influence what they say and control what they do.

The reason I am well suited to the roll is that the Patton women who preceeded had handed it down and it was expected that I follow in their footsteps. At first I did not take to being bitchy and demanding. Having grown up a pleasant person in a loving family I was devastated when I first witnessed the actions of my mother. She was a master at giving orders in her aristocratic tone and dominating all who came in contact with her. 

I just could not be like that. When she and Mister Patton were killed suddenly in an automobile accident I grieved for them and felt sorry for my father who had the misfortune of being married to the women with the unquestioned title of the queen of bitches. 

But when Bradley wanted a divorce I changed. His brother had insisted that he go to Oregon to help run the family lumber business and when I refused to join him there we settled on him visiting the children and myself one weekend per month. This arrangement lasted about two years, then the visits became less frequent until Bradley confessed that he had met someone else and he wanted a divorce. While I knew that I was partially to blame by not going with my husband, I was bitter about being betrayed and abandoned.

Once I found out that Bradley’s new love interest was pregnant and was pressing him to marry her I turned this knowledge to my advantage and held out for the best settlement possible. In addition to being awarded the old Victorian house that had been home to the Patton family since it was built in 1890, there was the generous child support, savings for college and a lump sum payment that made me the richest bitch in town. To my satisfaction, the settlement put a crimp in the way the brothers did business for the next five years. I was to keep the children eleven months of the year while my only concession to Bradley was for him to have them in Oregon one month each summer.

Hurt, confused and celibate I began to play the part of the fiercest overbearing bitch the town had ever known. I put the reputation my mother and the Patton women before her to shame. By the age of 33, I had taken on a hard demeanor that made my best friends cringe and my children beg for me to lighten up. At the age of 35 when I met young Cotton Fabric, the art of bitchery was second nature to me. I could verbally rip the head off of the meanest man in town while projecting sexy sweetness that would curl his hair. No women fucked with me either. Cotton changed me, for a time. 

When the children came home with pictures of their father’s new family I took delight in noticing that Bradley’s forehead had grown and his young wife’s thighs carried a flabby overlay, extending from her abundant butt. They looked happy with their baby boy between them.

I had always been proud of my athletic body. I secretly resumed the exercises that had always kept my thighs, though muscular, firm and slim. I had been a gymnast in high school and college and had always taken pride in my body. Seeing the pictures of my husband’s new family made me determined to not let my body go like the little red head who had stolen my husband when I wasn’t paying enough attention to him. I became more bitchier just thinking about their happy life together. Did he think of my tight butt and shapely legs when he was fucking Miss Thick Thighs?

That Saturday morning at the flower shop my children had stayed in the car while I went in. They wanted to know who the boy was that I had been talking to when I came back to the car. And they wanted to know why I had stood outside in the heavy mist for so long, getting my hair wet. I couldn’t tell them that the boy was Cotton Fabric and my reason for talking to him was to assure myself that he had not bragged to his friends or his mousy little boss about having screwed me on the freezer the previous Tuesday night. Nor could I tell the children of my other concern; it was not only that I feared others would find out about my indecorous action, which if known would ruin my standing in the community; what if I were pregnant? I explained that he worked at the flower shop and I was just thanking him for the job he had done to help make my gathering a success.

“You remember the yellow long stemmed roses, don’t you?” I asked, reminding them of the flowers that were still in vases all around our house. Each of them had taken a rose to school to give to their teacher. My explanation seemed to satisfy them.

My actions had been stupid and I regretted what I had done. Nevertheless, there was a tingle between my legs from just thinking about what had taken place. Somehow, talking with him while the fine mist bounced off of our cheeks, gave me a warm feeling about the intimate secret we shared. His honesty as he mouthed, “No,” when I asked if he had told anyone about our, ‘encounter,’ persuaded me that he was being truthful. Seeing him again reminded me of how I had let it happen or, ‘how I had made it happen?’ would be more accurate. 

I had gotten the children off to bed early that night and then made a call to Marcie, the flower shop owner. I demanded that she have the display that held three dozen long stemmed yellow roses removed from my house that night. It was my nature to make such a demand; one of those things I did because I could. It was for the same reason that I had insisted, earlier in the day when the other floral arrangements had been removed, for the display to be left for my children to see when they came home from school, because I wanted them to see the yellow roses and ribbon that adorned the one-of-a-kind giant display. Also, I insisted on the display being picked up later because I could. 

Marcie was hesitant about sending someone. She held out as long as she could, pointing out that it was a school night, but I won out as I usually do. She would send Cotton, the young man I had seen that morning when they had made the delivery.

I had changed into a house dress that buttoned down the front because it was comfortable and because there was no need for me to be dressed more formerly to receive a lad who was merely performing a service. 

Partially because I did not want my nosy neighbors seeing what was taking place and partially because I could, I refused to turn on a single light while Cotton retrieved the display. The young man did not question why it was totally dark in the house although I suspect he wondered why there were no night lights on, except for the lighted clock on the kitchen stove.

I insisted that he remove the flowers before taking the display. This was something I could have done before he arrived but it was my whim to have him do it. After he stacked the flowers in a basket I walked backwards to guide him from the front room, along the hallway to the kitchen. I cautioned him constantly to take care and watch where he was going until we made the turn onto the porch where the path was wider.

As we passed the freezer I remembered the roast that I needed for the next day. I had tried to reach it earlier but could not because the one I wanted was on the very bottom of the box. My son could have climbed in to get it but I had forgotten to ask him to. I stopped abruptly and turned in the darkened path. Cotton bumped the display into me and I heard him utter an apology. I paid no attention to what he was saying.

“Cotton, that’s your name isn’t it?” I whispered. He acknowledged that it was his nickname.

“Would you get a roast out of the freezer for me? I asked, knowing that he would not refuse.

He went over the side and squirmed around at the bottom of the cold box while I held the lid open for him. After what seemed an exorbitant amount of time he found the roast I wanted and started to do a back flip to exit from the freezer when the heavy lid slipped out of hand. It stuck him, I was certain, on his head. There was a sound of air rushing from his lungs as he fell back to the bottom. My lungs emptied also but not because I had been hit in the head. I was so concerned that the blow may have knocked him out I could barely breath. I raised the heavy lid with trembling hands and vowed not to let it drop again.

“Don’t bother with the roast,” I barked, ignoring my pledge not to awaken my children. But he was determined to bring it up with him and disregarded my order. My legs were weak and my body was shaking as he made it over the side of the freezer and I heard his feet strike the porch floor. He dropped the roast and it rolled toward the kitchen. I dropped the lid again and reached for him, wanting to find out how seriously I had wounded him.

He crumpled into my arms as his body went limp. His body felt warm as it pressed into mine. Little trembles made our bodies shudder as we clutched one another, both unsteady on our feet. He placed both hands on the freezer lid at my sides for support and I tried to hold him up. I was almost certain his head had opened up with a gash or that there could be a concussion. I wanted to inspect the back of his head which I was sure had been injured but I could not reach it from my pinned position. 

My thoughts raced from a possible need for surgery to how I would get him to emergency room. Their van was parked in my drive, blocking an exit for my car and I suspected that I would have trouble driving the van. I prayed that it would not come to that. To have an ambulance come to my house at that hour was out of the question. 

I placed my hands on his, lifted myself to sit on the freezer lid, and drew him to me between my legs. He moaned as I felt the back of his head, checking for blood or a raised place. His lips pressed against the top of my breast which gave me such a warm feeling. I prolonged my search for an imagined head wound, enjoying the hesitant movement of his lips, now open, was making against my skin. I slid forward on the lip of the box as far as I could and let my dress ride up exposing my bare legs. I positioned my feet flat against the box and raised my thighs to support his arms. 

I comforted him with a gentle rocking motion. His chest rubbed against my panty covered cunt and I was aware that his lips were moist and open against the top of my breast. 

‘I can stop this; I should stop,’ I thought. He was exaggerating the rocking motion by raising to his toes and falling backward. His chest rubbing against my pussy sent a flare throughout my body.

‘I should stop this; I can’t stop,’ I realized. I clamped my thighs to his sides to hold him in place and rocked with him, deciding to make it happen. 

I jerked on his jacket, making his arms drop to his sides so the jacket could drop to the floor. He replaced his arms on the lid and cupped my ass with his hands to pull me close. We continued to rock, both knowing what was happening, neither of us wanting to stop. When he lifted his head I cradled it in my hands and pressed my lips to his. I leaned to my right and brought him with me. My tongue entered his mouth and he responded. It was evident that he knew what he was doing; his hunger was a great as mine. I had lost control of all thought except, ‘I had to have him.’

From that point on everything is still a blur to me. Each time I walked past the freezer I tried to recall how it happened. Once when I was alone in the house I got on the box and went through the motions the way it may have happened. As I lay there on my back with my legs open and drawn up to my breasts I could almost feel the heat and the weight of his body. This is how I believe it progressed:

As I leaned farther to the right I clutched his shirt. He boosted himself upward and we were on the freezer lid with his knee against my cunt. I held him tightly to me and when he brought his hand between my legs and touched my wet panties I thought I would erupt. ‘Why doesn’t he hurry?’ I bucked my hips to add to the friction and to let him know I was wild with desire. His finger penetrated me and I broke the kiss to whisper in his ear, “Yes!” 

I was a Bitch in Heat! When his hand fumbled with the waistband to my panties I shoved him to the side and brought one foot up to push them down. They dangled around my other ankle. I tapped on his leg to position him between my legs. His jeans were down but he was struggling with his boxers. I reached up with both hands and slid them down for him. My legs were drawn up and the hem of my dress was around my waist. 

His stab was hurried and off so I said, “it’s too high.” I took his prick in my hand and guided him to my entrance. My vulva was so sensitive and open from the rubbing that I came upon first contact. My head was moving from side to side and I was lost in exhilaration until I noticed that my lover was having trouble with our connection. There was a sort of a hitch. I hoisted my rump to give him a clear shot and he bottomed out and, ‘God, don’t let this end’.

Cotton tried to restrain my head to kiss me but I resisted. The side to side motion was my way of expressing that I was breaking out. Nothing mattered, this was my new freedom. I met his thrusts with abandon. At one point when he slowed I dug my heels into his hips and pounded my fists on his back. I almost screamed in his ear, “Fuck Me!, Hard!”

When he slowed again I encouraged him, “Just one more, I’m so close.”

It was a plea, not an order. For that short time that we spent entwined in one another’s bodies on top of the freezer I was no longer a demanding bitch. For that brief time, it felt good to be a giver and a receiver at the same time; to want and to be wanted. 

The next day when I passed the freezer a smile came to my lips. There was a slight indention on the top where my back had lain. We had definitely made an impression on the makeshift bed. That was Wednesday and I was regretting what I had done. I had given in to lust without considering the consequences. In my frantic need for self satisfaction I had let him come in me. 

What if one of my children had come down stairs and seen their mother, spread-leg-out-of-her-mind? Realizing the risks I had taken, I returned to my roll of queen bitch. Even before it was over, without basking in the afterglow as I would have liked, I tapped on his leg again and said, “Get off of me and get out.”

By Thursday I was regretting my harsh treatment of my young lover. As I lay on the freezer, relishing the memory of the few minutes of pleasure there, I thought of Cotton and how I had acted toward him. It was not his fault that I had seduced him, then demanded that he get out. It would not be his fault if I was already pregnant. I was nearly twice his age and had not acted appropriately. I drew my legs up and opened them wide as I laughed to myself, ‘he did seem to know what he was doing though.’

On Friday I made the decision to visit the flower shop the next morning when I knew he would be there. I would get him alone and access the damage. ‘He’s an honest kid, I’ll be able to tell if he’s bragged to anyone,’ I thought. Laying on the freezer, I swung my head from side to side and folded my open legs back as far as they would reach. I raised my butt and touched myself in mock re-enactment of out Tuesday night tryst. ‘How did we keep from falling off?’ I wondered.

The children grumbled when I sent them to bed early on Saturday night but once they were warm under the covers they fell off to sleep. I had noticed the figure sitting on the wall across the street. There had been a light mist all day and it was still coming down. I tiptoed around the house turning off the lights. As the hall light went out the figure stood up and hopped on the wall. I was sure it was Cotton. He must be wondering if I’ve gone to bed.

‘That is what I will do, I’ll go to bed. He will see the light in my room and when it goes out he will give up and leave,’ I thought. Instead, I checked once more. He was still there, standing on the wall. 

I went to the kitchen and turned on the light, thinking I would bake some cookies. ‘If he crosses the street I’ll tell him firmly to leave, I’ll make it clear that nothing else is going to happen,’ I thought. ‘What if the kids smell the cookies baking and come down stairs?’ My mind was cluttered. ‘It won’t matter, he’ll be gone long before the cookies start to bake, I’ll see to that.’

Just as I suspected...or was it just as I hoped?, he was there in the back yard. Contrary to my customary position at my work table, I stood on the other side to face the porch windows. He was waving his arms but I pretended to be busy with my task. When he tapped on the porch window I had my head down. I wondered how long he would stay there if I paid no attention to him. I wondered how long I could avoid him. When he tapped the window again I looked up, attempting to look startled and annoyed. 

He waved his arms and pointed to the door at the far side of the house. I shook my head. My heart was beating at an abnormal rate and I’m sure my face was flushed with excitement. I considered how I must look. My makeup had been removed and I wore an apron over the same slacks I had on when I visited the flower shop that morning. He motioned toward the door and began to walk that way, looking my way.

I tried to ignore him, I really did. He must have waited by the door for several minutes while I let my emotions run unbridled. ‘I’ll go speak to him, I’ll be reasonable but firm, I’ll send him away.’ With that resolve I headed for the door.

Well, if you read Wendy, Chapter 6 you know what happened. It began to rain and I let him come in but I think now that even if the rain had not come I would have relented. We talked to one another through the latched door. His remark, “I want to help you get a roast out of the freezer,” made me laugh, which was something I needed. The rain started to really come down and it served as my excuse to let him come in; but I know now that I would have thrown caution to the wind, rain or no rain.

I held him at bay for the first 30 minutes until the cookies were done. He stood with his back to the sink, watching as I measured the ingredients. We got to know one another a little. I enjoyed his company at times but when the conversation became serious my mood changed. At one point I threw one of my little bitchy fits because of something he said and banged on the work table. I was sure the noise would awaken the children but the rain must have overshadowed it. The rain gave me an excuse to let him remain. 




Wendy Ch. 07



When he worked up the nerve to come closer I kept him there by exposing my fear that others would find out about us and that I could be pregnant. That was when he told me the ridiculous decree some girl had taught him about ‘never fuck and tell.’ He was so serious and apologetic that I let him hold me for a short time. When he told me about the condom in his sock I ask to see it, then I teased him. 

He kept asking about the color of my eyes. He was so well mannered I felt I could handle him. ‘If I could just handle myself,’ I thought. After the cookies were out of the oven I let him hold me again. His body was warm and his cock was stiff. It felt good when his hands moved over my back, making little circles up and down. I positioned my mouth to be kissed.

It was like Tuesday night again. We pressed ourselves together with only his manhood, which took considerable punishment, between us. For the next 10 minutes our lips were clasped tightly, my tits, ‘why had I worn a bra?’ crushed his chest and his left thigh served as a friction spot for my pussy. My right thigh mauled his prick. Miraculously, he hung on until I came and released my hold on his neck and lips. 

When I was able to stand on my own legs it registered where I was and what had taken place. I wanted more. And, poor Cotton wanted more to. Disregarding caution and the consequences, I took him by the hand and led him to my sewing room.

When Cotton saw the room it hit him that there was going to be more. He took in the long narrow room with the old cot and my sewing material as if he was visiting another planet. I locked the door and turned on the small table lamp. We were both in a hurry but it was I that prompted the removal of our clothes. I turned to him to unfasten my bra but I still wore my panties, just in case. He devoured my body with his eyes and his unspoken appraisal of my firm breasts and flat stomach was flattering. 

“Let me see you put it on,” I said, referring to the condom.

After some prompting he found the rubber and rolled it onto his cock while I watched. His size was about the same as I remembered Bradley having, not big but I knew I had found it quite adequate a few days before. 

I demonstrated why we could not use the old cot by pressing down to make the springs squeak. We grinned at one another. I placed the coverlet on the floor beside the cot and turned to him. 

“Turn out the light,” I whispered.

“Huh?” 

I pointed to the light, “turn it off.”

“Why?” he was truly mystified at my aversion to the light being on.

If he wouldn’t turn it off I would do it myself. As I took the first step toward the light Cotton tried to stop me by dropping to his knees and encircling my thighs with both arms. This halted my progress for a moment but my legs were too strong for him. I took another step, determined to drag him the few feet if necessary. 

I took another short step and the most amazing thing happened. I felt a warm rush of air against my pubic region that stopped me in my tracks. I looked down. Cotton had blown against my panties with all his might. His breath made my hair tickle and sent a rush through my thighs. He was blowing again and hiss mouth was pressed to my pussy. I placed one hand on his head to steady myself and opened my legs. His tongue depressed my panties into my vulva. My legs went limp and I thought I would faint.

“Are we going to fuck or hold hands?” I stammered as I leaned toward the coverlet, no longer concerned about the light being on.

My pants had been pulled down by the time my butt hit the floor and Cotton was between my legs, his mouth pressed to my wetness. I reached for him to move up but his mouth was fastened to my cunt and his tongue was probing my inner canal. I laid back and let it happen. What he was doing to me sent wave after wave of delightful quakes through me.

“Wha...what are you do...?” I tried to ask. He paid little attention to my question and went back to licking and sucking my slit. I couldn’t lie still, my legs folded up then spread wide as if they had a mind of their own. I raised my head to watch what he was doing then dropped back. When his tongue touched my clit my butt left the floor and when it came down my legs were weak and tingly. I begged him to stop. I was spent. 

I opened my eyes when I felt his hand on my mouth. “Shoo,” he whispered, removing his hand and smiling down at me. He tried to kiss me but I resisted. His lips and chin were covered with my juices, which I found repulsive at that moment.

I must have looked shocked when I realized he was fucking me. He smiled again and when I tried to match his thrusts my legs were still so weak that they wouldn’t work.

He stopped for a second and whispered, “let me do this.”

I nodded and tried to smile. I wanted to give him something back for what I had put him through in the kitchen for what he had just done for me. I lay back as he ask.

But soon I was trying to take over again. I whispered encouragement to him and raised my butt off the floor to meet his thrusts. I held my tired legs high in the air to give him greater access. If he had tried to kiss me I would not have resisted but his lips were busy with my nipples, first one and then the other. I tried to dig my heels into his butt but my legs wouldn’t work for me so I settled on wrapping them around his back and hanging on. I came twice more before I knew he was making his final short, halting jabs that signaled his spurt...spurt...spurt into the condom. Otherwise, he said nothing.

Unlike Tuesday night, I held him while we breathlessly mumbled praises to one another. This was our second fuck and it had happened in a lighted room. We had been naked together and we had made one another come. There were no more secrets, I held him in place, happy and unashamed at my actions.

I knew he was watching my ass move as I left the room to dispose of the condom and its contents. When I came back he was leaning against the cot, a contented look on his face. I took a place next to him and gave him a bite of a cookie. He still wore his socks, I noticed the slight protrusion at his left ankle and decided it must be a second condom. 

We shared little tidbits about our lives like old lovers do. I told him about being a gymnast and about Bradley and the other woman in Oregon. He was surprised that I had not had sex in over three years until the previous Tuesday night. He stroked my arm and my back and our legs touched at the knee. We were naked, contented to be in each others arms.

Soon we were kissing again. I tasted my juices on his lips and when I inserted my tongue into his mouth I searched for more of the taste. I felt his cock, hard again and prodding my belly. He moved it but when he let it go there was a thud against my thigh that nearly sent me reeling. He was ready again and I felt moisture rolling down my thigh. 

How should I handle this? We had been lucky so far, the children had not awakened but could I quell my verbal outbursts if we went ‘round again? I didn’t know. And there was the other question, to cover or not to cover. Would he produce the other condom or would I have to force him to? I couldn’t think, he was making me crazy with desire. When the cot moved from our weight I did what I perceived to be the sane thing to do.

“We can’t do this,” I said, pushing away from him.

He tried to hold me but I kept my distance. 

“I can pull out,” he said, there was a crusty edge to his voice that convinced me he was serious but I held my ground.

“I’ve heard that one before,” I said, amused at his attempt to pull an age old trick. I pushed back further.

“I’ll pull out and cum on your back,” he whispered, the edge was even crustier, I found it very sexy.

“You taught you that?” I asked, sarcastically. I knew it was the same one that told him to, ‘never fuck and tell.’ ‘Please don’t tell me,’ I thought. I really did not want to have that discussion.

I pulled away more but not in time. Cotton took my left tit into his mouth and his hand went to the other one. His tongue was flicking the nipple as his thumb and forefinger squeezed and twisted the other. My mouth was open to take deep gasps of air. ‘What to do, what to do?”

I pulled his head close and whispered into his ear, “are you sure?”

{to be continued}

{my thanks to Patrick}

~ ~ ~ 

My thanks to those who have voted on the previous chapters of Wendy. Feedback would be appreciated. Who should speak in chapter 8: Cotton or Lydia?



Wendy Ch. 08



Chapter 8 The Sewing Room

According to Cotton

Wendy stirred, her head came off of the arm rest and she gave me a quizzical look as if to say, 'where am I and who are you?' She had dozed off sometime during my description of my visit to the home of Mrs. P one rainy Saturday night. 

Her light snoring had not deterred me from my task. I droned on; determined to give a full account of the night that I watched Mrs. P bake cookies and later helped her loose her cookies in her sewing room. At one point I covered Wendy's bare feet with a quilted blanket I found in the lamp stand. She smacked her lips and made a meowing sound in appreciation. 

Putting my audience to sleep did not discourage me from continuing. Wendy had wanted to hear the story and I complied with her wishes. Once into it there was no stopping me; whether she listened or not.

Lydia was ready to call it a night. We had our fun and it was getting chilly in the room; especially given our state of undress. We were sitting on the coverlet with our backs to the small metal cot and our legs touching; basking in the afterglow of intensive and satisfying sex. 

Unlike our previous 'encounter,' when she ordered me to 'get off and get out,' we talked. She had told me that the room we were in had been a maid's room at one time but now it was her get-away harbor; a room with a door that locked, masking as her sewing room. She had also told me about her children's father and how she and he had strayed from their ideals. There had been no bitterness in her version of the demise of their marriage. In fact, there had been an admission of guilt on her part. 

Our bodies clung together, partly for warmth, party to extend the night that neither of us wanted to end. A few long kisses and a close embrace made it seem almost toasty warm. My hands roamed her back and she pressed her tits to my chest. I felt wetness when my prick brushed her pussy. She pulled away.

"We mustn't," she announced. 

I knew her concern. Earlier in the evening she had told me of her worry that she was already pregnant from our romp on the freezer the previous Tuesday night when I had come to pick up the floral display. She had watched closely as I rolled the rubber onto my cock earlier this night. 

'Had she not seen the slight bulge in my sock where the second condom was awaiting its call to action? I was almost certain that she knew it was there, making the sock on my left foot look like it was covering a growth.' 

"I'll pull out," I offered.

"I've heard that before," she laughed, putting distance between us.

"I'll pull out and cum on your back," was my last argument. She raised her leg and I felt her hand on my shoulder. She was making preparation to stand.

My mouth found her left nipple and my hand palmed her right tit. The hand on my shoulder relaxed. I twisted her nipple. 

I felt her hand on my thigh as she leaned close to my ear and whispered, "are you sure?"

I brought my mouth to hers as my left hand rubbed her inner thigh, letting one finger gently brush the outer rim of her pussy. She found my cock and stroked it gently, pulling it closer and closer to her wetness. Her tongue was fucking mine.

I tossed the pillow from the cot to the floor. Lydia knew what to do. She broke our kiss and crawled across the floor. Before she lowered her head to the pillow she looked back at me. Although no words escaped her mouth she appeared to be searching my face for an answer to her question, 'are you sure?'

I gave her a reassuring smile as I took my place behind her. I rubbed my hands over her ass cheeks; they were firm and soft at the same time. She reached between her legs and found me. There was urgency in the way she shifted her right leg to give me access to her cavity which, with the help of some hip action, drew me inside.

Lydia's head did not stay on the pillow. She was up on one hand while the other pulled one of my hands to her tit. I took the hint and did the same thing with my other hand. Her butt was moving in sync with my thrusts. Her hands and her right foot were flat on the floor. 

She moved one shoulder to the floor and her head to the pillow but only briefly. Soon she had both hands on the floor again to get more leverage; pushing back, pushing back. Her head swung from side to side with each push. I moved my hands from her tits and attached them at her waist where I could better control our movements or at least try to keep up with them. I pushed deeper. She looked back over her shoulder with an attempted smile but a frenzied mixture of anguish and desire overshadowed it. Her forehead was covered with beads of perspiration which ran down one side of her face. She mouthed, 'fuck me!' 

I nearly abandoned my promise to cum on her back when her head bobbed up and down like a filly slowing to a trot after a fast race. I heard little yelps and snorts coming from the woman as she climaxed. I stopped pushing when her head went to the pillow and one of her fists pounded the floor. The pause gave us both a chance to catch our breath. I renewed my resolve to do as I had promised. 

When I was sufficiently rested I made short movements to get Lydia's attention. She lifted her head from the pillow and placed her hands flat against the floor again; signaling she was ready to resume our mutual enjoyment. 

We glided together, increasing the pace to a flurry that built a rumble in my balls that would be impossible to stem. I warned her verbally that I was pulling out but she did not hear me. A puzzled look came to her face as she slowed her hip movement then brought her self to a stop. She must have felt the spurts of cum hit her back because she gave me a 'good-job' look and then collapsed to the floor.

We lay on the floor catching our breath and grinning at one another. I put my arm around her and stroked her back until I felt the pool of sticky cum which I spread out like icing on a cake. Her hair was matted with perspiration and her eyelids looked drowsy.

At the door she stretched up to give me a peck on the cheek. She was dressed in the slacks and the blouse but her feet were bare. I put my arms around her but she would not move closer.

"This is the last time, you must not come back," there was a resolve in her voice but I also heard anguish that made my heart ache. 

When I pulled her to me there was a brief kiss that ended quickly with a final word, "go." I heard the door latch behind me as my foot hit the ground outside.

I slept well that night and walked on air for the next three days but by Wednesday there was an ever present annoyance praying on my mind. Her words, "this is the last time, you must not come back," nagged at my subconscious. 

"Cotton, what's wrong with you?" Marcie said, calling my attention to the burning toast. It had popped up but I had absent minded-ly pushed the lever down. The smell had caught the attention of Marcie who hated to cook but hated burned toast even more.

"I'll do it," she said, pushing me aside. "Where is your mind these days? Everything all right at school?"

I assured her that everything was fine. As a decoy, I told her about the upcoming dance and my plans to test my dancing skills.

Marcies dislike of Ellen who had given me dance lessons during her week long visit saved me from further discussion. My absent minded blunders, caused by my preoccupation with my status with Mrs. P, went undetected for the balance of the week.

The following Friday night I took Patsy King to the high school dance. It was my first date with someone younger than myself. It was fun to be with kids my own age and the date was enjoyable, but frustrating. Our petting session ended abruptly when the couple we were with got into a disagreement and we went home early.

On Saturday morning Patsy's former boyfriend paid me a visit to gave me a forceful warning to stay away from, 'his girl.' Marcie saved me from taking a beating. For me, that was the end of Patsy King. My small world had crumbled. All I had left were the memory of Mrs. P turning from her position on the coverlet as she mouthed, 'fuck me,' and the lingering smell of Patsy's dried juices on my middle finger. 

That night Tad had just arrived when the telephone rang. He and Marcie were having a heated discussion about how they would spend their evening together. She wanted to scrap their plans to see a movie because the feature had already started.

"It's already five past eight and by the time we get there it will be twenty past," she whined as she went to answer the telephone. 

There was no one on the line which made her slam down the receiver in disgust. Tad was patiently holding her coat and waiting for her at the front door. "We'll go to the drive-in, it doesn't matter when you get there," he joked.

Marcie's disposition turned, she grinned up at him and gave him a peck on the lips. "Really?" she cooed.

"What are you going to do tonight, Cotton?" Marcie asked me as Tad held the door open for her. I had planned on jumping into the shower as soon as they were out the door, then walking over to Mrs. P's house and waiting until the lights in her house went out. There was always the possibility that she had changed her mind about seeing me again.

"Oh, not much. Maybe I'll take a walk after while." My words fell on deaf ears, they were already outside.

I decided to shave first and that was a good thing because I would not have heard the telephone ring had I been in the shower. It was 8:13 P.M. when I picked up the receiver.

"Is she still there? If she is just hang up," I heard Lydia say.

"No, no they're gone," I rushed the answer.

"Oh, good," was followed by a sigh and then, "would you like to come over? I have a surprise for you." Her voice trailed off, faintly warm, pleading.

"Sure, I mean sure, when, when should I come?" I stammered, trying to hide my excitement.

"As soon as you can?" she asked, there was a gentle urgency in her voice.

I cut my chin while shaving and my body was not completely dry as I raced out the door. Then, I remembered the condoms and I had to go back inside to stuff one in each sock. I ran most of the way; only slowing down the last block so as not to attract attention and to catch my breath.

She was wearing the dress with the buttons down the front and I noticed some makeup on her face. I leaned in to get a whiff of her perfume and told her she smelled nice. She seemed happy to see me. "Did anyone see you?" she asked me, expectantly.

"I don't think so, aren't your children here?" I whispered, astonished at my good fortune of being invited and not having to wait until the lights went out before I tried to get her attention so I could beg my way into her home.

"They're both on sleep-over with friends," she said, taking my hand as we walked along the porch. 

When we got to the freezer I looked at it longingly as I deposited my jacket there. 

"Don't get any ideas," Lydia laughed. It was good to see her in such a good mood.

At the kitchen she turned to me, "would you like to go to the sewing room or to my bedroom upstairs? There's light in the sewing room but not in my bedroom, I don't want the neighbors to get any ideas."

We were standing in front of the kitchen stove with the lighted clock but that was not the source of the glow that shined within us. There was a gaiety in the air; the joy of being together again. We were at a crossroads, 'which way to go? it was my choice.' I took her into my arms and kissed her. "I want the light," I said.

She did not lock the door behind us. The blinds were already drawn and the small table lamp faintly lit the room. 

"It's a lower wattage bulb," she explained. I nodded my approval, still amazed at my luck to be in the sewing room with her. 'No children at home and a dim light; this must have been prearranged,' I thought. 

"Nice surprise," I commented.

She came to me and whispered in my ear, "That's not the surprise. You're not going to be a papa, isn't that great news?" Her body quivered slightly in my arms. I drew her closer to express my relief at the news. 

"That's why I wanted you to come here tonight. I wanted you to know and there was no other way to tell you. It's not like I could call you on the 'phone or come by and see you," she whispered in my ear. Her body was soft and warm in my arms; the pent-up worry that both of us had suppressed for too long was drained from our bodies. It felt good to hold her. 

"It's good news," I agreed, moving my lips to hers.

The kiss was brief. She pulled away and moved to the cot where she leaned her back to the wall and sat with her legs drawn up under the dress. She motioned for me to come sit near her.

She took my hand in hers but kept her distance. "I had to pull some strings to get the kids out of the house. Did Marcie suspect anything when she answered the 'phone and no one was there?"

"She was aggravated I guess. They were on their way out, two more minutes and they would have been gone," I answered, not wanting to waste time talking about how Marcie felt with regards to the dead telephone line. I tried to move closer but Lydia squeezed my hand and pushed it back toward me to let me know I should stay put. We sat in silence for a full minute.

She squeezed my hand again and I squeezed back. We were like two teenagers on a first date, neither quite knowing what to say or do next.

"Are you relieved?" she asked, quietly, her voice was distant and she was avoiding me by looking straight ahead. Her grip on my hand had lessened. 

I didn't know what to say. Frankly, I hadn't thought much about the consequences of her being pregnant. There were too many other things occupying my mind. 'How I could manage to be with her again, was she really serious about ending it, what had I done to deserve this treatment,' and other such thoughts had overtaken my life. 

As I let the enormity of what-could-have-been sink in, a little shudder rocked my shoulders and I said, "yes, I'm very relieved, thank you for giving me the news."

Lydia squeezed my hand again but still looked straight ahead. Solemnly, she spoke, "you see why this can't continue, I did another foolish thing the other night, nothing like that will happen again".

She looked my way. I could tell she was seeking some indication that I understood what she was telling me. "Do you understand?"

"Yes," I answered, reluctantly. My world was shattered, she was telling me it was over. She squeezed my hand again and I moved my thumb over the back of hers. It was soft but muscular like the other parts of her body. 

She was using the hand movements as a buffer between us to establish a boundary, not be crossed. The hand squeezing was a silent way of expressing her feelings. I had to find a way to penetrate the line and get closer to her. Something needed to happen soon, by the feel of her hand the end to this rendezvous was near. 

I had it! 

"I would never do anything to put you in jeopardy," I said, turning to her in complete seriousness. 

"Jeopardy!" she screamed, pulling her hand away. "You wouldn't do anything to put me in jeopardy? What did you call that?" She was pointing to the floor in front of us where we had done it doggy style without protection only seven days before. "What was that? Me on my knees, taking you from the rear and you without a condom, what was that if it wasn't placing me in jeopardy," her voice was still raised and her face was wildly agitated. "Don't tell me you would never DO anything," she continued, screaming. There was a blue line that extended from her left eyebrow to her hairline.

I had clearly said the wrong thing. I had expressed my feelings badly, said it wrong. Do I dare try again?

"Didn't you enjoy it?" I knew the answer, it had been her that swung two gorgeous ass cheeks in the air and offered her pussy to me. In addition, I was almost certain she had seen the second rubber in my sock. 

The question took her by surprise. At first she pretended that she had not heard me but the question had quieted her. A smile appeared on her lips and she nodded, still not looking at me. I wrapped my arm around her and she came willingly.

We kissed and I fingered one of the buttons on her dress. "It was more my fault than yours, I could see you had another condom, I should have insisted that you use it."

"It was my fault too," I said. "I should have used the rubber."

"Cotton?" her lips were pressed to my ear. I had the top two buttons to her dress undone. 

I nodded my head to let her know I was listening while unfastening another button.

"We can't let that happen again, Okay?"

"Okay," I said in a low serious tone.

"Don't ask me to because, you know, I might let you do it again. I'm afraid Cotton, I'm afraid of myself."

When I didn't answer she shook me playfully, "do you hear me?" she asked.

I mumbled something as we kissed. As the forth button was undone I slid my hand inside her dress and felt bare skin. At first I didn't think she was wearing a bra but there it was, lacy and soft. I reached behind her to undo a single clip. Lydia squirmed around to give me a shorter reach. 

"I didn't intend for you to do that," she whispered. "Its new and you were suppose to see it on me."

"What do you want? For me to put it back?" My hand was already under the bra, massaging one of her breasts. 

"Unbutton the others," she said, whispering although there was no need to be quiet, her voice was supplicating, yet soft. She broke away and began to peel my clothes off with a flurry of energy as I labored with the buttons.

I kicked off my shoes and let my pants drop to the floor. My prick sprang out through the front opening of my boxers. We stood facing one another. Lydia's dress was open at the front and the bra hung loosely over her breasts. 

"Hold that pose," she said, dropping the dress to the floor as she turned toward the dressing table where the lamp stood. 

"An... oth... er... sur... pr... ise," she sang, as she returned. The bra was now fastened and left almost nothing to the imagination. The black skimpy panties barely camouflaged the target of my desire. She posed, first with one leg bent at the knee and arms spread to demonstrate what the underwear was doing to enhance her perfect figure. When I nodded my appreciation she smiled and turned to give me a view of her rear. Her scantily clad ass cheeks glistened under their lacey covering and the narrow bra strap clung to her rippled back.

When she turned again I noticed the package in her left hand. "Here's the surprise," she said, handing me a package of 12 condoms.

I was overwhelmed, "What was that?" I asked, referring to the display I had just witnessed. My cock was bobbing between us, responding to the lacy undies and the attention Lydia was giving it.

"These?" she asked, with one thumb under the front strap of the bra and another under the waist band of the panties. "These are a surprise too. Would you like to take them off or should I wear them?" This was delivered in a little-girl, high-pitched voice and she wore a goofy smile on her face. She put one thumb in her mouth and made her eyes bulge before getting serious again.

"Put one on," she ordered, rocking back and forth as if she was moving to music.

The package or rubbers looked expensive although I had never heard of the brand. She watched closely as I fumbled, first with my boxers and later getting the package open. Once the rubber was in place Lydia took my cock in her hand and gave it a how-do-you-do shake while giggling like a child. 

"Time's wasting, let's get to it," she said, turning to the cot, about to remove the coverlet. It was to be spread out on the floor as was had done before. 

I touched her arm and when she looked at me I shifted my eyes to the cot and back to her to suggest we use it instead of the floor. With a naughty grin on her face and a twinkle in her eye she jumped into the center of the cot, making a crunching sound as her butt bounced on the thin mattress. I pulled on her legs to bring her close to the lower end so my body, especially my stiff prick, could hang down without being painfully pinned under me. Her legs were smooth to my lips. 




Wendy Ch. 08



"Don't stretch them," her head came off the pillow; she was watching me move the underside of her lace panties aside in order to gain access to her pussy lips. I looked to her for a better plan.

"Just pull them down," she smiled, lifting her butt for me. Our four hands and her two legs worked feverishly to free her of the lace panties which, only a few minutes before, had been the object of our attention. She flung the tiny piece of lace toward the lamp.

Her dark pubic hair had been trimmed neatly and had been drenched in an aromic scent that I did not waste time trying to identify but it was gratifying to think that she had prepared for this moment. Her lips parted with the slightest pressure from my tongue and turned inside out, yielding the sensitive softness of her wetness. 

Lydia's legs changed positions without warning, neither of us knew which direction their movements would take, from straight up in the air to wide open to bent back to her armpits, then over my shoulders to capture my head. She expressed herself with her leg movement and with husky, halted utterances coming from deep within throat, "do... do that... don't... do... ah... do... yes... ah... tha... " Her butt danced from side to side and jumped from the cot with abandon. 

When I flicked her clit there was a stream of unintelligible blabber, "coz... mos... cu... mmm... go... god... do... don'... sto... plez... " as her thighs gripped my head. "Ahhhhh, Ahhhh, Ahhhh," then her legs went limp, freeing me.

Lydia's chest heaved, rising and falling in an effort to refill her lungs with air and to regain her composure. There was a half smile on her face as she stroked and patted the top my head, contentedly. 

"Let me... let me catch... oh, Cotton, that was so nice... let me, then we'll fuck... okay? I want to fuck... we'll fuck... okay?" Her hands were firmly fixed to my head, holding me some two inches from her pussy. 

I stuck out my tongue, playfully. This was returned by a frightened gaze and increased pressure on my head. "Cotton, no. My period lasted until Thursday, I'll be sore, let's just fuck, okay honey, we'll fuck." Her eyes pleaded with me but I was in a jovial mood. My tongue darted out again, harmlessly.

"COTTON, I SAID NO!"

"MOM," followed by knocking that rattled the door, "MOM, are you all right?"

{to be continued}

According to Lydia

I tried, God knows I tried to stay in character but it didn't work. Reminding myself that I was the 'Reining Queen Bitch' and owed it to myself and my followers to act accordingly. But seeing the forlorn figure standing across the street in the light rain like a young pup with an itch, and knowing it was Cotton, made me want to be the young pup's bitch. 

As I watched the figure stand on the wall I wondered if he could smell my inflamed labia and if he was getting a whiff of my desire for 'One More Time.'

The smells allured him, first to my kitchen and then to my sewing room where we had fantastic sex on the floor, after which we talked like adults, disregarding the difference in our ages. 

"We mustn't," I warned him but I could see that he would persist. 'I'm so weak,' I thought, knowing I was close to giving in. I even practiced, in my mind, what I would say. "Take the other condom out of your sock and we'll do it once more, then you must leave." But I didn't say anything.

"I'll pull out," he said, with so much confidence that I almost fell for it. I joked about having heard that line before. His hand roamed my back, making my skin tingle and his cock bounced around my most sensitive areas. 

"I'll pull out and come on your back," he whispered in my ear and I nearly crumbled. 'I must be strong, this can not happen, why am I even considering letting it happen?'

With resolve, I placed a hand on his shoulder in an effort to lift myself to my feet. I would stand, I thought, and if he got to his feet to pursue me I would insist that he use the other condom. Otherwise, I would show him to the door.

But just as I put my weight on him I felt his lips on my nipple and a hand on my other tit which seized my being and forced my body to shrink back into his arms. Without deliberation, I bent to his ear and whispered, "are you sure?"

Getting his assurance that he could pull out, which now I realize was not audible; his continued flicking and sucking on one of my nipples while mauling the other was convincing. I crawled across the coverlet and invited him to follow, to mount me from the rear.

Nothing else mattered, I wanted him in me. I even turned my head and mouthed, "fuck me!"

And he did. I wanted it hard and that's what I got. I urged him to take my tits in his hands and that's what I got. I announced to my neighbors and anyone else in the vicinity how good it was and that I was coming, coming, coming. From his position, Cotton could not control my exuberance but he tried to control the erratic movement my butt was making. I felt his hands on my hips, holding, freeing, holding, freeing in an effort to match the timing of our thrusts.

Cotton kept his word and spilled his seed on my back but I didn't hear his warning and kept pumping, fucking air for a time. We spread out on the coverlet and celebrated the pleasure we had bestowed upon each other. I let myself, and him, revel. But as they say, everything must come to an end and that is what I told Cotton. Clearly and with resolve, I made him understand that this was the last time. He was not to return. At the door we kissed and I told him, "Go!"

*~*

The warnings came late Sunday night and by early Monday morning it was there; that time of the month, that makes a woman irritable, quarrelsome and a pain to be around. I was overjoyed! I counted my blessings.

On Tuesday I sat with a cup of tea, thinking that I should be proud of myself for laying down the law, there would be no more visits. 'Cotton had understood that,' I told myself.

On Wednesday I had second thoughts. 'What if he did not believe me? What if he comes around trying to see me again? What if I let him?' That's simple, I won't let him in, I'll be strong,' I thought.

Thursday was a day of decision. I considered and reconsidered the risks and consequences of seeing, what I really meant was fucking, Cotton again. Was I crazy or just acting that way? What was I thinking? I walked from room to room, wondering how I had gotten there. Being found out would be my demise but so would not acting on my desires. I had needs and there was a young man who was willing and able to fulfill them. Deliberation was futile; the decision had already been made. One more time.

On Friday I drove fifty miles from home to make a purchase and ended making two. There were only two people in the small drug store, a young female clerk who I walked past as if she was a mannequin, daring her to question my presence or to follow me, and a pharmacist who looked to be about age 50. 

He wore a white jacket with pens in the pocket and had a thin mustache with one unruly hair that dragged on his lower lip; something I found disconcerting. He had observed my entrance, I was dressed in riding pants and boots, a flannel shirt and a hat that I had found in a box in the back of my closet: it was what we had referred to as the 'Al Capone' hat during its short lived popularity, and he came from behind his pill boxes to greet me.

Directly, and in my 'queen of bitches,' tone I announced, "I'm here to buy prophylactics." 

Without hesitation, the man in the white jacket showed me his selection of latex protection devices. He described the various materials, strengths, qualities and even the colors of different packages which he produced, one at a time, from a locked showcase as if he was selling me a new automobile.

I chose two packages containing 12 condoms each, which the pill man described as thin, yet durable to afford enjoyable, yet secure pleasure, because I liked the slick black packaging, not because of anything the druggist had said.

The clerk was bent down behind the perfume counter when I made my exit, expecting, I was sure, for me to produce a riding crop and swing it wildly if she showed her head.

At my car a block away from the drug store I threw the hat in the back seat, unpinned my hair to let it fall and took several deep breaths to satisfy myself that I was still alive. Then I crossed the street to a lingerie shop to purchase two sets of black lace underwear, so shear and skimpily they were 'naughty', personified. 

When I got home I hid my purchases in the sewing room and my bedroom. Then I telephoned friends of mine who had children the same age as Lisa and Junior. Casually, I arranged for my kids to spend Saturday night with their families. While I surmised that they were suspicious of my requests, the mothers did not ask questions. In fact, they were honored to be entrusted with my children in their homes for an entire night.

Junior was pleased to learn that he had been invited to a sleep over but Lisa complained that my friend's daughter was not one of her friends and furthermore, spending an entire night with the girl could cause her own social status to take a serious downslide. How did I know? It was too late to make other arrangements. I was desperate. Breaking one of my most strict parenting rules, I bribed her with the promise of a shopping excursion to an exclusive clothing store.

Saturday was a day for preparation. I spent the morning with the kids, helping them plan how to dress and what to take with them. The guilt that I was feeling for pushing them out of the house so that I could cavort with Cotton nearly caused me to cancel our plans, the children's and mine. But in the end, my craving to satisfy my own needs won out.

After delivering the children to their respective host families I took a long hot bubble bath and pampered my body with lotions and powder. While in the tub I shaved my legs and neatly trimmed my virginal hair. 

It was only 6:00 P.M.; two hours to wait. I had second thoughts. My plan was to call him and invite him over but what if Marcie was there? What excuse could I use for calling her employee? There was, I decided, no plausible reason for a 35 year old divorced mother of two to call an 18 year old high school student at 8:00 P.M. on Saturday night.

All would be for naught, the trip to the drug store for condoms, the purchase of sexy underwear and coaxing my children out of the house had been done in vain. I went to my room to change clothes, I would scrap the idea.

As I removed the simple house dress that buttoned down the front I looked in the mirror. My reflection looked strange as if I was looking at myself for the first time. I rubbed my hand over my tummy and thought, 'he's touched me there.' I turned to see the flesh of my ass cheeks extending below the black lace. Cupping the smooth skin I thought, 'he's touched me there.' Soon my hands were flying over my body and thinking, 'he's touched me here, here and here and I want him to do it again, one more time.' 

Marcie answered the phone and I hung up. 'Why was she still there? Did she not have the usual Saturday night date with Tad? Some said that he would never marry her, others said she would not marry him. There was an age difference and Tad, the state senator, had been married before. Marcie was nearly as old as I was. Why was I even thinking about this? All that mattered was that Cotton answered my call and that I could lure him to my home.' I would wait and try once more.

He arrived somewhat out of breath. I noticed his wet hair and there was a cut on his chin. He wanted to know if my children were there and I told him no. I had told him on the phone that I had a surprise for him. I lead him to the kitchen and gave him the choices: we could go to my bedroom with no lights or to the sewing room with a small lamp. He chose the sewing room. 

I didn't lock the door because there would be no one to disturb us. He noticed the dim light and thought that was the surprise. I stepped to him to tell him the surprise, "you're not going to be a papa, isn't that good news?"

At first I didn't think he understood but later he sighed and I could see how relieved he was. We sat on the cot and talked. I wanted to make sure that he understood how foolish we had been. I told him how vulnerable I was, how I might be swayed to let him enter me without protection. He promised that he would not ask me again.

However, when he said he would never do anything to jeopardize me I blew up, saying, "what did you think that was?" pointing to the floor where we had done it doggy style only a week before. 

It took him a long time to settle me down but soon we were in each others arms. He soon had four buttons on my dress undone and my bra unfastened. I told him to undo the rest of my buttons while I undressed him. 

But I wanted him to see me in my new underwear. I refastened the bra as I went to get the condoms. As I turned I could see how excited the new underwear was making him. I did a little sexy song: "An... oth... er... sur... pr... ise," and strutted for him. I even turned to give him a view of how my ass cheeks filled out the narrow band of lace. 

He was quite taken back when I handed him the condoms. He was overwhelmed, not knowing what to say. 

"Put one on," I ordered, rocking back and forth from my toes to my heals, anticipating what was to follow. I took his cock in my hand to inspect its cover and felt it throb. This is what I wanted, what I had dreamed about, what I had schemed for.

"Time's wasting, let's get to it," I said, a woman possessed with desire. Why was I rushing things? We had plenty of time, I had arranged that. But I wanted to make the most of it, to squeeze every drop of cum out of my young lover. I deserved it. Besides, this would be the last time, I thought, already regretting my vow to end it.

As I reached for the coverlet to spread it out on the floor as we had done before he touched my shoulder and motioned toward the cot, smiling. He was reminding me that tonight, we could make noise and why not use the cot. 'Why not,' I thought.

I jumped on the cot and remembered how old it was as the springs made a squeaking sound when my butt hit the mattress. Cotton joined me on the cot, pulling me down to the end where he knelt. He begins to kiss, from my ankles to my cunt. 

"Don't stretch them," I cautioned as he started to remove my panties. But I really didn't care if he tore them off and they were ruined, so be it. This would be the last time and I would have no more use for sexy underwear. If this was so, 'Why had I bought two pair?'

"Just pull them down," I said, lifting my butt to help him and noticing that the crotch was wet as I tossed them behind me. I was glad that I had spent time making my legs and virginal region smooth and sweet smelling. His face was buried in my pussy and I was going wild. 

Everything was working to plan. This was what I had waited for and I wanted to enjoy it. With the children out of the house I could let myself go. I didn't know what I was screaming, I just wanted him to know how good he was making me feel. The poor little cot must have taken a beating as my butt bucked and my legs slammed down against the mattress, trying to capture the pleasure that I was receiving. My hands held his head to my cunt as I screamed, "do... do that... don't... do... ah... do... yes... ah... tha... " 

"I'm com... I'm... Cot... ton... I'm... " I kept coming and he kept licking, I couldn't make him understand. He flicked my clit again, "Ahhhhh, Ahhhh, Ahhhh." My legs went limp and I couldn't catch my breath. I finally got his attention when I took him by the ears and lifted his head. 

"Let me... let me catch... oh, Cotton, that was so nice... let me, then we'll fuck... okay? I want to fuck... we'll fuck... okay?" My hands were firmly fixed to his head, holding him two inches from my pussy. 

I was covered with sweat and the bra was restricting my breathing. My arms were so tired that I let his head go. I looked down to see him watching me, grinning.

He stuck out his tongue again as if he was measuring the distance to my clit. I pleaded with him, "Cotton, no. My period lasted until Thursday, I'll be sore, let's just fuck, okay honey, we'll fuck." I couldn't take anymore. When his tongue darted out again, I screamed,

"COTTON, I SAID NO!"

"MOM," followed by knocking that rattled the door, "MOM, are you all right?"

{to be continued}

{my thanks to Patrick}

{my thanks to readers, double thanks to those who vote, triple thanks to readers who vote and provide feedback} 



Wendy Ch. 09



{Weekly visits to Wendy’s apartment had become the customary way to spend his Friday nights. What began as meetings between lawyer and client had evolved into the recounting of sexual experiences and even the re-enactment of certain encounters. Seeing her in high heels, Cotton had casually suggested they partake in a wall job. On this evening, Wendy had donned the house dress with thirteen buttons down the front and high heals in preparation for the event. Wendy could not go through with it but she didn’t want him to leave. She coaxed him to relive one of the nights in the sewing room with Mrs. P. Wendy slept through most of the telling, until....}

“COTTON, I SAID NO!”

“MOM,” followed by knocking that rattled the door, “MOM, are you all right?”

Wendy stirred. Her right cheek aglow, reddened by the arm rest of the love seat during her nap. In my exuberance to relate the details of the night Mrs. P and I got caught in the sewing room, I had awaken her.

Wendy gazed at me blankly, stretched and yawned. She had slept through my telling of the night Mrs. P and I were interrupted while sharing an intimate moment. Recalling that night, I got carried away with the telling and had used the same voice level as Mrs. P when she yelled, “COTTON, I SAID NO!”

I had forgotten that she was asleep. Wendy had not heard the details that lead up to the outburst and seemed irritated to be awakened. Clearly, I was boring her; I rose to leave.

“Where are you going?” I heard her ask, her voice rising in that childish habit that always annoyed me. “What were you saying about a door rattling?” I returned to my seat and watched her yawn again. 

Her dress had risen above her knees during her slumber. She sat up and laid the blanket aside, the one I had used to cover her. Knowing that she was not wearing panties, I paid attention to how much of her ample thighs were showing. She caught me staring but did nothing to dissuade my attention. In fact, she placed her bare feet on the coffee table and smiled, “now, where were we?”

Not knowing exactly when she had fallen to sleep, I recounted the earlier events that led up to the frenzied knocking on the door, followed by, “MOM, are you all right?”

The night had been carefully planned by Lydia. She had maneuvered invitations for her children to spend the night with friends in order for us to have the sewing room alone. Surrendering to her untamed desires, Lydia had schemed to surprise me with her new resolve to bring enjoyment to her harbored life. She had given me two choices: her room upstairs with no lights or the sewing room, with light. I chose the sewing room.

First, there was the soft light, just strong enough to light the room without casting a shadow. I noticed it as we entered the room. I also noticed the window blinds had been drawn. Amused at my approving whistle, she closed the door and came to me, molding her athletic body to mine. “I promised you light but there’s another surprise,” she whispered.

Pushing away from my embrace, she moved to the small table that held the light and produced a package of condoms which she brought to me for my inspection. I had never heard of the brand; the package of 12 looked expensive. 

Several questions crossed my mind but I restrained myself from posing them, not sure how Lydia would take it if I jokingly ask, ‘twelve, how long do you expect these to last us? or ‘don’t you trust the rubbers I carry in my socks?’

Lydia watched me, expectantly. Not wanting to disappoint her, I opened the package, removed one of the condoms and smiled my approval. She answered my third question. “There’s another package in my room in case you were wondering,” she said, edging near to be kissed. 

I stroked her back and kissed her neck, eager to make use of the condom. “How long do you think 24 rubbers will last, I joked.”

“Not long,” she answered, laughing, “if you’re a good boy.” She took the package and returned it the table drawer, leaving me with the one condom that I had removed.

“That’s still not the surprise,” she said, moving back close to me. “Unbutton my dress,” she whispered, playfully darting her tongue into my mouth.

Distracted by her searching tongue, I labored with the top button. Soon I had the second button open was rewarded with the surprise. A black lace bra barely covered the outer regions of her nipples, exposing the upper half of her breasts to my hungry eyes and lips. 

Lydia rose on her tiptoes to offer the soft fibrous tissue above the lace. She held my head there for a few seconds before reminding me of the task at hand. I gladly continued to unfasten the buttons and was rewarded with the sight of black lace matching panties that hugged a small portion of her mid section. Again, I paused to place wet kisses on her tummy, then her thighs, coming to a stop at her crotch. Lydia gasp in delight.

I flung the dress to the floor and reached for her, wanting to cup her nearly bare ass in my hands. But Lydia detached herself and with exaggerated strides, pranced the length of the room, turned and swayed back to me, turning slowly, proudly smiling, eyes gleaming, milking my attention which was freely given.

I was able to extract the condom from my pocket as Lydia removed my clothes, swiftly and without pretension, right down to my jockey shorts. My arms encircled her lithe, compact body, my left hand trying to master the mechanism that held the narrow bra strap together and my right hand examining the area below the lace that partially covered her ass cheeks.  

Wendy cleared her throat, bringing me back to the present. She was sitting in the same position, her bare feet resting on the coffee table. Her dress had slipped up into her lap. I sped up the story and brought my full attention to her reaction to the telling, testing my ability to turn her on.

I discovered the secret to unlatching the bra clasp and soon Mrs. P’s tits were released, falling only slightly as the support was removed. I wasted no time in circling the nipples and drawing them between my lips. Lydia’s arms were roaming; she eased my shorts over my swollen cock and dropped them to my ankles. Our undergarments were tossed in opposite directions without regard for where they landed. We groped, kissed and fondled one another wildly.

My attention was drawn to Wendy who was leaning back, eyes closed and mouth open. I wondered if she had gone back to sleep until I noticed her hand moving slowly around her crotch. 

Lydia bent to remove the coverlet from the cot, with the intention of placing it on the floor as we had done before. But when I suggested we use the cot she did not resist. Soon, she was on her back on the cot and I was between her legs, paying homage to those marvelous appendages that adorned her chest.

Wendy slowly unbuttoned two buttons of the dress and eased one hand inside. The other hand was still positioned at her pussy, making circling motions against the cloth.

The squeaking of the old cot was disconcerting to me but Lydia seemed to pay no attention to the creaking springs as I moved down her body, alternating soft and loud smacking kisses to her mid section, then to her inner thighs and around the newly shaven, another surprise, love region. She purred and moaned as I got closer and closer to her pussy.

Wendy’s voice was horse and faint but I clearly heard her hum as she unbuttoned more buttons and stuck the other hand inside the dress. I tried to maintain the same cadence as I continued to relate the events of the evening two years past.

The noises the cot was making as I moved over it soon faded from my conscious state but I was very aware of the reaction my attentions were having on Mrs. P. We had both abandoned our suppression of expression because, unlike our past love making when the children had been asleep upstairs, we had the house to ourselves. Lydia was letting herself go; praising me with each lap of her slit. 

Wendy had six of the thirteen buttons unfastened and was twisting her nipples, alternating between them. One finger and her thumb were moving in and around her pussy and clit.

Lydia’s legs were drawn up, giving me maximum access to her love tunnel. Licking furiously, I was rewarded to see the little nub poke out. My second flick produced a shriek, a flood of sweet liquid and the thunderous pounding as her heals hit the thin mattress, simultaneously. 

Lydia implored me to stop but I was relentless. I continued to flick her clit and she came again and again. She screamed, ‘we’ll fuck, okay?, please stop, let’s fuck!” Her strong legs clamped my head but I was still able to reach her most sensitive area with my tongue. I only stopped when I heard: “COTTON, I SAID NO!”

“MOM,” followed by knocking that rattled the door, “MOM, are you all right?”

Distracted, Wendy’s hands stopped moving and her eyes opened. She stared in my direction as if to question what I was saying. 

We froze, too dazed to know what was happening, too stunned to react. Then my heart began to beat again, flooding my head with near explosive pounding. Neither of us could move. There was frightful shock on Lydia’s face and mine must have expressed the same. The door rattled again, “Mom, are you okay?”

I stumbled to my feet, causing the cot to squeak. Our clothes were strewn around the cot. Lydia could not seem to move, her viginal region glistening, her tits giggling but she was immobile. I picked up the dress and threw it to her as I slammed my body against the door, causing a clatter as the old door settled against the jam. I threw the latch and tried to breath.

The door knob turned and there was pounding on the other side of the door, “Mom, let me in, what’s wrong, mom?”

Wendy sat upright and closed her legs. “Who was it? At the door, I mean?”

This was the reaction I wanted, I had her full attention. I went on to explain how Lydia had made it to her feet, searched aimlessly for the sleeves to the dress. Her naked body was trembling and her face showed absolute terror.

I went to her, helped to slide her arms into the dress and fumbled with the buttons. “Say something,” I whispered, “say you’re coming or something.”

“I’m coming,” she said, her voice sounding feeble and far away. We had six of the buttons fastened but one at the top was through the wrong button buttonhole, throwing the others off by one. 

The doorknob was being twisted from the other side and the pounding continued.

I was still naked and looked for a place to hide. It was a strange feeling, being naked with a limp cock. There was no time to pick up our clothes. I took a place at the door and motioned with my fingers for Lydia to open it only about two inches. Together, we unlatched the lock. Lydia stuck her nose in the crack and became motheringly. She spoke to Lisa in a surprisingly calm tone and explained that she was working on something for her daughter, a surprise as she put it. Then she turned the table by asking Lisa what she was doing there. 

Lisa and the girl she was staying overnight with had run out of finger nail polish and were there to pick up a bottle of a special color. The girl’s mother was waiting in the car. “Got to go, mom,” I heard from the other side of the door.

Wendy was let down, expecting fireworks to go off. “That was all there was to it?” she asked, showing disappointment.

“Well, not exactly, Lydia was a wreck. I’m surprised that the girl didn’t question why her hair was matted and the blood was drained from her face. 

“Did you get to fuck her?” Wendy’s eyes were wide and I could tell that this was the only part of the story that she was interested in so I skipped over the half hour it took to settle Lydia down and coax her to let me remove the dress. First, she had made me put my clothes on and follow her around the house. ‘What if Lisa had opened the door?’ She blamed herself for not locking the sewing room door. She also blamed herself for carrying on a lewd affair with me, a boy half her age. 

“Yes,” I said, “we fucked.” 

“How many times?”

“Twice, I believe,” I answered.

“Tell me about that,” Wendy’s face was wide-eyed, childlike.

We went back to the sewing room. She locked the door and turned the lamp off. I didn’t argue about the light. In the dark she found the coverlet and spread it out on the floor, then turned to me to be held. We kissed and I stroked her back for what seemed like a lifetime. She was still tense but there was an overriding desire that eventually surfaced.

She undressed me, slowly, deliberately. Carefully, she removed the condom from my pants pocket before placing them in a pile of my clothes next to the coverlet. She let me unbutton the dress at the same pace. As I lifted it over her shoulders she took it from me and placed it on the stack of my clothes.

Together, we sank to the coverlet and held one another, kissing and exploring as if it was our first time together.

“If I didn’t want this so much I would have kicked you out,” she whispered in the dark, finding my prick which had fully recovered. “This is what I want,” still whispering, stroking me with her small hand. Together, we rolled the rubber up my cock and she stroked me again. 

I found her slit moist, opening to my touch. She shivered, sinking her teeth into my shoulder.

In the dark she guided me to her opening. Slowly, I pressed forward until we were joined and I was buried to the hilt. Holding me there, “this is what I want,” she whispered.

We stayed like that, enjoying the feeling of the union. Gently, she gripped me and released me, gripped and released. We kissed and she gripped and released. “This is what I want,” she repeated.

I begin to move in short strokes until I felt her ankles against my butt cheeks, a signal to stop. Again, I felt the walls of her pussy collapse around my cock, grabbing, releasing. In the darkness I heard her whisper, “this is what I want.”

“She made me cum that way, gripping and releasing, gripping and releasing,” I said, watching for a reaction from Wendy. “That’s so sweet,” she said, “so tender,” she added thoughtfully.

Then she snapped out of it, recalling, “you said you fucked her twice, what about the second time?”

I was tired of talking. The change in her demeanor, from dreamy to lively, was unsettling. My scheme was unraveling. Wendy, always the lawyer, was outwitting me with her line of questioning. My plans to describe my sexual exploits with Mrs. P, get her hot and wanting and then seduce her were backfiring. 

“Tell me about the second time,” she insisted, leaning forward in anticipation. The buttons on her dress were still undone but she was no longer fondling herself.

My mood changed, I became angry. Angry at myself for divulging secrets. Angry at myself for entertaining this pompous, spoiled woman with stories of my past sexual encounters. Still angry at Wendy for terminating the ‘wall job’ earlier that evening.

“It was nothing special, we fucked doggy style and I went home, end of story.”

“In the dark?” She just wouldn’t stop.

“Yes,” I answered, “in the dark.”

“With a rubber?”

“Yes, with a rubber, she insisted on it,” I said, recalling the discussion we had and me giving in and using one of the condoms Lydia had bought.”

“Was it good? Was it a good fuck?”

“Why the fuck do you want to know all the details, haven’t I told you enough?” I erupted. Seeing her taken back, I added, sarcastically, “yes, it was good.”

“Then you went home? Is that what you said?”

“God, can’t you give it a rest, I went home but not immediately. I didn’t just pull out and say, see you later.”

“Oh,” she said, nodding, “that’s good, I didn’t think you would leave without talking awhile, that’s good, I’m glad you didn’t just leave.” She smiled, almost laughing, “I’m glad you didn’t just pull out and say, see you later, you’re too considerate for that.”

I had to laugh. “Considerate, is that what you think of me?”

“What did you talk about?”

“Fuck,” I said, shaking my head in disbelief, “don’t you ever stop?”

“Tell me.” 

It was getting late and I had to work the next day. “It’s been a long time, I’m not sure what we talked about but I believe that is the night she told me her children would be going out west to visit their father. They would be gone for a month and we would have the house to ourselves.”

Wendy nodded, satisfied with my answer. It was then that I recalled what I had said when I learned that the children would be gone for a month during the summer. ‘Better buy some more of those rubbers,’ I had joked. 

But I did not tell this to Wendy. Suddenly, she rose and picked up the blanket that I had covered her with when she had gone to sleep earlier. She casually spread it on the floor in front of the coffee table and gave me a wink. Then she walked to the side of the room and switched off the lights. Except for the light form the clock on the kitchen stove, the room was in darkness.

I kicked off my shoes and we met at the blanket. Like her body, her lips were soft and ample. We stood toe to toe, kissing, probing and exploring. Wendy undressed me, methodically, neatly stacking my clothes in a pile next to the blanket. The dress was shortly added to the pile.

“This is what I want,” she whispered, gripping my cock in her hand and stroking gently. She moaned as I leaned down to bring her nipples to full extension. Together, we unrolled a rubber on my cock and kneeled to the blanket. “This is what I want,” she whispered as she guided the tip of my cock to her opening. It was apparent that she was still well lubricated from playing with herself earlier. 

With a mixture of short stabs, grunts and shifting of her capacious rump, I was in. Knowing she wanted to savor the feel, I remained still for a long time. When I begin to move in her with slow short strokes she wrapped her legs around mine to halt my movements. “Don’t move, let me do it, this is what I want,” she whispered as she gripped and released my length.

I laid still and let her have me, felling her grip and release. Each time I made the slightest movement she entwined my legs with hers and murmured, “don’t move, this is what I want!”

She worked on me for ages, trying to duplicate the expert muscle work Mrs. P had rendered to my cock. Since she wouldn’t let me move within her my only option was to support my body just above hers and enjoy the feeling. She grunted and squirmed and opened her legs wider to me bring me deeper. Proclaiming, “this is what I want!” 

It was good but I couldn’t stand it much longer. I had the urge to jerk loose from her feeble restraints and pound the holy shit our of her. But that would tell her that she had failed. She was trying so hard to get me off I didn’t have the heart to tell her she didn’t have Mrs. P’s technique. I was content to let her squeeze and release my cock; she seemed to be getting the hang of it. And, she was clearly enjoying herself, repeating, “this is what I want!”

Wendy was working so hard, grunting, sweating and breathing hard that she let her rather boundless butt roll. This created the slight movement I was hoping for. ‘Could I give us some short strokes without her knowing?’ She detected my intent immediately and clamped her legs around mine. There was one long final squeeze before her legs released me and I felt her hands pulling me in. As I begin long hard strokes I heard her say, “this is what I want!”

“Is this what you want?” I yelled as I pounded her.

“YESSSSS,” she screamed and I knew she was cuming.

We talked for some time. She volunteered to tell me about her second time, a subject that had come up weeks before but had been dropped. We sat close on the blanket and pulled it up over our shoulders. She began slowly.

It happened at the beginning of her second year of law school. There was a study group formed and Wendy found herself matched with two other females and two males. They met two times each week and as the term progressed the group often socialized together on Friday or Saturday night. One of the girls was a knock-out and took her pick of the guys. This left Jeff, the other guy, to look after Wendy and rather plain but well dimensioned girl named Nancy when the group went to a party or a movie together. 




Wendy Ch. 09



After her first time in a filthy apartment, Wendy’s appreciation of sex had never reached its full potential. But when Jeff started showing an interest in her, she welcomed the attention. To be chosen over Nancy overwhelmed her. Soon, she succumbed to Jeff’s advances and was pleasantly surprised by his ability to make sex fun.

They did it their rooms after study group and in motels on weekends. Wendy showered him with gifts and Jeff showered her with attention. Nancy became the fifth wheel, the odd woman out. Wendy felt sorry for her and suggested to Jeff that they include her in their activities.

“I didn’t mean our sexual activities,” she laughed, rubbing my thigh.

“What happened?” 

“He claimed she seduced him but I always thought he was just trying to include her in our activities, without me of course,” Wendy nibbled on my neck.

“So, it was over?” I asked. She nodded, scrupulously.

“You didn’t mind?”

“Not really, he had run out of past experiences anyway,” she answered. Her hand had moved to my thigh, getting close to my manhood.

Suddenly I was getting it. Wendy had a sexual hangup, she needed a script to follow, something that had happened to her partner. I wondered if there was a name for it. 

“So, Jeff described his sexual experiences and you re-enacted them with him?”

But Wendy wouldn’t answer me, preoccupied with my cock.

“Enough talking, what was that about doggy style?” she said, playfully pushing me to the floor and letting her tits dangle in my face.

We kissed and fondled one another to arousal. We made short work of spreading the blanket and donning a rubber. One final check, she gripped my cock and I ran a finger up and down her slit. We were ready. 

Wendy offered her abundant butt freely, positioning herself in front of me, legs slightly spread. It may have been the view, or the change in Wendy, not submissive, that made me harder. After an initial, ‘oh, I’m sore there, that’s it, there, do it there, that’s it, give it to me, oh yes, yes,’ we were joined. I pushed her shoulders down and adjusted for height, took her by the hips and begin pounding with total abandon. Each thrust moved her forward but Wendy held fast with, her elbows on the floor and her tits in her hands. “Oh, yesssss..., oh, yessss,” she kept saying.

“Is this what you want?” 

“Yessss..”

“Is this what you want?”

“Yessss..”

“Tell me!”

“This is what I want!” she screamed.

I slowed down when I felt the storm in my balls, slow enough to let Wendy meet me with each thrust. She had stopped screaming. We were both tiring. I stopped, not for a rest but to reach around and find her clit.

“Cotton?” her voice was soft and far away.

“Yes?”

“Don’t worry about me, I’ve been coming over and over, don’t worry about me.”

I counted, one, two, three, four, five, six long hard plunges and I erupted. We collapsed together, both spent.

We spoke on the ‘phone a few times but nothing had been mentioned about the contract that she was suppose to be drawing up. I had stopped mentioning it. My plan to visit the growers the day after thanksgiving with the contract in hand had been foiled. I would go without it. My telephone rang early on Thanksgiving morning.

“Shall I pick you up?” Wendy began the telephone conversation.

“What?” ‘What was she talking about,’ I thought. It was thanksgiving morning and I was getting ready to go to Marcie’s for dinner. “What are you talking about?”

“We’re going to Marcie’s, I may as well pick you up, its on the way, right?”

“I didn’t know you were going to be there,” I said, tentatively wondering if Wendy had invited herself. “Do you even know her?”

“She called and invited me, 2 o’clock, right?”

“But...,” I was speechless, “she doesn’t even know you, does she?” Marcie had said nothing to me about inviting Wendy. Of course she knew of Wendy. She knew that Wendy was suppose to furnish a contract for me to take to the grower the following day and she had heard me complain that it had not materialized. 

“Well, she did and I’m going. I turned down two other invitations to accept this one. I would think you would be happy that I am going with you, it is thanksgiving, you know?”

I didn’t comment that I was glad that she was coming. I was having trouble believing that Marcie would invite her without consulting me. 

Wendy seemed to comprehend my quandary and put in, “She must know we’re fucking and decided to invite me out of consideration.”

“She doesn’t know! I certainly didn’t tell her,” I declared. 

“What is it, 10 minutes?, I’ll pick you up at two, be ready.” She hung up without saying goodbye, leaving me in a quandary, ‘Until now, I didn’t know that we were Fucking.’

Besides us, Marcie had invited two other couples, friends of Tads. The discussions were political in nature which were foreign to me but not to Wendy. I could tell that Tad was impressed with her political savvy. 

After dessert, Wendy apologized to Marcie that it was time for us to leave, announcing, “Cotton and I are going to visit the plant growers tomorrow.”

All eyes at the table turned toward us, knowingly, as if to say, ‘they’re fucking.’

“How long will you be gone?” Marcie managed to ask. She had agreed to fill in for me at the shop on Friday but if we were staying over she would need to make plans for a baby sitter for Saturday also. 

Wendy looked in my direction, “I don’t know, do you think we can get it all done in two days or will we need to stay over and come back Sunday, honey?”

“We’ll have to discuss it,” I said to Wendy. Then to Marcie, “I’ll call you tonight, we may stay over if that’s okay with you?” 

As we moved toward the door my expression must have struck Marcie as funny. “You’ve met you match,” she whispered in my ear as she handed me my jacket.

Outside, I snuck a glace at the house across the street, wondering if Lydia and her children were having thanksgiving dinner. There was no sign of life; perhaps they had been invited to have dinner with another family. I secretly hoped that she was not alone.

Snapping from my reverie when I felt Wendy’s eyes catch me looking at the house across the street, I tried to think of something smart to say about the architecture of the old mansion.

“I understand that house has a maid’s room that has been converted to a sewing room,” she said, giving me one of her ‘I’m-so-fucking-cleaver’ smiles.

‘She knows, shit!, she knows it was Lydia Patton,’ I thought. Somehow, I recovered.

“We’ll stop by my house. Since we’re Fucking,” I said, pausing to watch her reaction. She nodded, wrinkling her forehead, expectantly. “I’m going to bend you over the couch.”

“Hummm, sounds like fun, did you do that with Mrs. P?”

This reinforced my theory about her hang up. I realized why she had not gone through with the wall job. I had explained how it worked but not from personal experience. Wendy had a passion for re-enactment and a thirst for all of the details to make it work. She wanted to hear about Mrs. P being bent over the couch.

Mrs. P had never been to my house. The end had come before I lived there alone, after Marcie’s marriage to Tad. Ellen, my expert teacher, had bent over the couch and offered herself to me so I did have experience with the couch and Ellen, actually experiences.

“Yes, we did it a couple of times,” I lied. 

{To be continued}  



Wendy Ch. 1: The Meeting



It was early Monday morning, Kate's husband was off to his meetings and she was using the gym at the resort. Her auburn hair was up in a ponytail, her green eyes were bright and her work out outfit showed an exquisite body. Her body rippled under the thin covering, each of her assets highlighted. Kate was just finishing her warm up routine when she saw the woman enter.

She smiled, another wife filling time. Kate watched as the woman wandered around, looking at the equipment. She had dark hair, was quite pretty, late 30's or early 40's and definitely new to the gym. Kate did a quick survey of the gym, two young men into serious lifting, a couple of gray hairs into their thing and Kate and the new girl. Kate smiled and said hello. 

A couple of minutes of formalities and Kate knew the woman's name was Wendy and that her husband was attending the same weeklong conference. Wendy accepted Kate's offer to work out together. It was soon obvious that Kate would have to scale back the routine for Wendy. She was trooper and did all that Kate asked, but Wendy was struggling to keep up and while Kate was barely glistening, Wendy was soaking wet. They stopped for a water break and Wendy couldn't believe that an hour had passed. One last routine and they would call it quits. Kate usually rode the bike hard for 15 to 20 minutes then cooled down with a 5 to 10 minute ride. Wendy was to just ride at her own pace, while Kate took a hard work out. By the end of the half hour, Kate was as wet as Wendy. 

They smiled and headed for the showers. Kate removed her damp workout togs and was soon standing holding her towel. Wendy looked at Kate, her small firm breasts, flat tummy, shapely legs and the little tattoo where her pubic hair should have been. Kate gathered her shower stuff totally unaware of her nakedness. Wendy on the other hand was a bit shy. She hesitated stripping in front of another woman and was apprehensive as she looked at the showers, they were each private, sort of, separate walls but no doors or curtains. 

By the time Wendy had removed her clothes and made it to the shower, Kate was about finished. Kate stopped and looked at Wendy as she stood washing her hair, her eyes closed. Her breasts were large and showed only the slightest bit of sag, her body was attractive, but needed just a bit of firming, but very nice and her pubic hair was thick and dark. Kate looked at Wendy, smiled to herself and set about to make Wendy her goal for the week.

Kate slipped on a loose fitting sundress with spaghetti straps and pair of high-heeled sandals.  Wendy wore a bra, panties, tee shirt, shorts and slides with a wedge heel. They walked around the resort, looking in shop windows, talking and had an early lunch. Wendy was in her mid 40's with sons 19 and 16 and a young daughter age 8. Wendy was a stay at home mom and happy. Kate was 33, no children and had a hectic business schedule. Kate did not have children to keep her busy, but her schedule was full. Kate was enjoying a week away, no work, no phones, no meetings, no hassles. Wendy was enjoying her down time, no laundry, no homework, and no children. It was good timing for both of them.

After a light lunch and a bottle of wine the two new friends, took a second bottle of wine and headed to Kate's hotel room. 

The girls sipped their wine, enjoying the view from the window. Kate moved behind Wendy and began to rub her shoulders, massaging the muscles, working on the neck. Wendy closed her eyes, relaxed and let Kate ease the tensions. Kate led Wendy to the bed and removed her tee as Wendy lay on her stomach. Kate worked down the back, relaxing Wendy. Then Kate unhooked the bra, and applied body oil to the bare skin. Kate straddled Wendy's legs and rocked back and forth as she applied a deep massage to Wendy. 

As Kate rocked she rubbed her now wet pussy along the legs of Wendy, she could feel her friend get tense, then relax, moan, take a deep breath. Kate was sure Wendy was getting as excited as she. Then Kate announced time to do your legs and Kate bounced off the bed, pulled down Wendy's shorts and panties in one movement and dropped them on the floor. Kate used the oil and started at Wendy's toes, rubbing, massaging, oiling and slowly working up. Kate caressed each toe, the ball of the foot, the ankle, the calf. Wendy moaned softly and Kate was on the edge. By the time Kate had reached the thighs, Wendy was panting and when Kate's fingers slid close to the slit, Wendy bit her lip, she wanted Kate stop, it wasn't right and yet she had never felt quite like this. 

Kate's fingers slid along the slit, rubbing oil along the mounds, over the ass. Kate had Wendy spread her legs and a finger slid along the slit, rubbing the wet opening, then parting the lips, slowly penetrating. Wendy, let out a moan, lifted her hips and Kate slid the finger deeper, in and out. A thumb rubbed the clit as the finger slid in and out, then as Kate slid a second finger in, driving it deep inside. Wendy was moaning, then crying into her pillow as her body shuddered. Kate worked her fingers in and out, the wetness running down the leg. Wendy's whole body shook.

Kate rolled Wendy onto her back, kissed her softly on the lips. As Kate's tongue slid over the lips, Wendy opened, taking Kate's exploring tongue. Kate's hands roamed over the mounds, stroking the still hard nipple. As the fingers held it, rolled it, pulled it gently, Wendy was moaning. Never had she experienced such and intense orgasm and never had she had two in one week and now, the stranger, this woman was leading her higher.

They kissed, Kate's hand roaming the soft body of Wendy. Kate nibble on the ear lobe, she kissed and bit the neck, her hands exploring the mounds, rubbing the nipple, causing them to ache in anticipation. Kate's lips moved over the body, lower, lower then her lips brushed the nipple, covering it, pulling it into her mouth. Wendy felt electricity. Kate's hand had slid lower, she was sliding her fingers through the mound of hair. As the teeth pulled softly at the nipple, the fingers pulled the triangle of hair.

The fingers sliding along the crease, opening the lips, Kate was penetrating her. She pulled the hood back and rubbed the clit. Wendy bit her lip and trying to control her excitement. Kate continued to bite the nipple, easy then harder, then licking it, then nibbling it, then a bite again. Each bite seemed harder than the last and just as Wendy was about to cry out for pain, Kate kissed it, licked it, sucked it. Then she started again, a harder bite, a bit more pain, but this time it was exciting her and she could feel the wetness running down her leg.

Wendy was lifting her hips to Kate's hand, she was humping her building again. Kate moved down between Wendy's legs, lifting them over her shoulders, she buried her face in the wet pussy of Wendy. Kate's tongue moving in and out, her lips sucking on the juices, her fingers caressing and stroking Wendy. Wendy was bucking hard against Kate, driving her pussy against the tongue, the teeth, the onslaught. Wendy screamed, she shook, she rolled as her dam burst. Kate sucked the juices, the flow endless as she licked and sucked the new friend, as wave after wave of pleasure rolled from Wendy.

Wendy was exhausted, Kate was wet with the love of her friend. Kate moved up beside Wendy and held her in her arms. Kate held Wendy, stroking her hair, touching her cheeks, feeling her body next to her, their breasts against each other as they drifted off to sleep. Kate woke slowly, looking at Wendy lying close beside her. Wendy was on her stomach, her smooth white ass next to Kate. Kate looked at the clock, it was almost time for Dan to return. Kate smacked Wendy on the ass, and she jumped, moaned and looked at Kate. Kate kissed the upturned ass, rubbed it and smacked it again, and Wendy just moaned. Kate filed the reaction in her mind, told Wendy the time and they both hurriedly got dressed. 

Kate kissed Wendy passionately at the door as they made plans to meet in the morning.



Wendy Ch. 10



Wendy ch.10: The Wedding

Wendy drove the first five miles before making an excuse about being sore from the day before. She pulled off the road just outside the city limits. I opened my door, preparing to go around to the driver’s side when she spoke.

“I’ll slide over,” she said, motioning for us to changes places by me passing under her. It would have been faster if she let me go around the car. First, she slid her copious butt to the center section of the seat, then rolled onto me, meeting me face to face.

“Hello,” I greeted her tits, which were pressed against my chest. She lingered there, enjoying our closeness until I placed my hands on her hips and lifted my pelvis to meet her mid section.

“Move over,” she ordered, poking me in the ribs 

I was settled behind the wheel and had guided her Oldsmobile back onto the road before she got completely settled in the passenger’s seat. 

“What’s wrong,” I asked, “wasn’t my couch comfortable, how come you’re sore?’

She glared at me, blushing. “It wasn’t your couch that made me sore, it was your cock pounding my pussy,” she said, mocking anger, half-smile on her face..

After having Thanksgiving dinner with Marcie and Tad, I had suggested to Wendy that we drop by my house.

Reminding her of the comment, ‘now that we’re fucking,’ which had become her standard answer for every occasion, “I’m going to bend you over the couch,” I had said.

“Hummm, sounds like fun, did you do that with Mrs. P?”

Actually, I hadn’t. Mrs. P had never been to the cottage. But knowing that Wendy would not experiment without hearing the details from a past experience, I said yes, thinking of Ellen, my first sex pardoner, who had bent her frame over the back of the couch and said, “come and get it.”

We entered the cottage by the back door. I let Wendy go first, down the hall with the kitchen on the left and the bathroom on the right. She stuck her head in both rooms, sniffed, and briefly looked around. Next was the dining table on the left and the back of the couch on the right. She stopped and turned to me.

“This must be the famous couch where you bring women to bang their backside into submission.” It was a statement, not a question. She inspected the couch with disdain, as if I had brought her to the slums and she was only indulging me because the experience would be something to tell her grandchildren.

She mentally took measurements, judging how her body would fit. Taller than the others with whom I had exchanged pleasantries while driving my cock into them, Wendy had a quizzical look on her face as if to say, ‘is this going to work?”

“Mrs. P is short, isn’t she?” 

“She’s not as tall as you, neither was Brenda,” I admitted, immediately wishing I had not mentioned Brenda. 

“Who’s Brenda?”

“Just someone who came to the wedding,” I tried to sound casual, thinking, ‘just someone that made Mrs. P. never speak to me again.’

“Tell me about her.”

“Sometime I will,” I promised, wanting to get on with the task at hand, convincing Wendy that the couch would be a good fit, even for a woman of her stature.

She had briefly looked around at the rest of the room but we hadn’t gotten further than the back of the couch, where she stood with her hips resting there, almost sitting. 

“How did it happen, with Mrs. P, I mean?” Wendy’s voice had taken on the high-pitched sexy level that I had gotten to know as her ‘pouty’ tone. Her eyebrows were raised in that same quizzical look she used when asking a client how he planned to pay, a check or cash.

Knowing that she would need the details in order to know what was expected, I decided to give her a vivid description that would make her want to re-enact what I would describe. So that she would not be able to see my eyes as I spoke, I pressed my body to her and whispered into her ear. 

“Well, she came here one lunch time to give me the news that her children were away and we could be together that night.” This had never taken place with Mrs. P. She would never have come to see me on such a mission. She would have telephoned, after the shop was closed. It had been Brenda who had come to the shop, been told that I was on lunch break, and ventured into the cottage to see me. Now I was skipping over Ellen and substituting Brenda for Mrs. P. “She went to the shop and Priscilla told her I was here. She came through the back door, calling my name. I was surprised to see her. We met right here. I took her into my arms and kissed her.”

I brought my lips to Wendy’s mouth. She seemed to be getting into the role, moaning into my mouth. Her legs were open just enough for my cock to nudge her pelvic region.

“What was she wearing?” Wendy, always the perfectionist, needed the details.

‘Shit,’ I thought to myself. It had been mid-August. Brenda was dressed in shorts and a cotton shirt. I had unbuttoned the shirt and found the clasp holding her bra in place. Though it had been over two years before, I could still feel her smooth skin as I rolled her tits in my hands.

Wendy was wearing a silk dress with a mixed pattern of flowers, nuts, and berries; it was her Thanksgiving dress. 

“Something like this,” I whispered into her ear while unbuttoning the four buttons at the back of the dress. We had not taken Brenda’s shirt off, it had not been necessary. I had found the catch to her shorts and dropped them to her ankles. She had stepped out of them and kicked them to the side. All that remained were her panties.

I could tell that Wendy’s lawyer mind was churning. Something was not right. Did Mrs. P really wear dresses with high collars and buttons in the back?

I lifted the dress and Wendy raised her arms to permit its removal. She was wearing a slip. Of course, it was November. 

“When did this take place?”

“What difference does that make?” 

Even in her state of arousal, Wendy had worked it out. She remembered that my affair with Mrs. P had come to an end shortly after Marcie’s wedding, in August. 

“It makes a difference. Mrs. P would not have come here when Marcie was here. The only time it could have been would have been August, after the wedding. She would hardly be wearing a slip, would she?”

I had been caught in a lie. Embarrassed, I didn’t resist when she pushed me away. 

But she didn’t reach for her dress; perhaps I still had a chance to salvage something from my muffed attempt to bend her over the back of the couch. After all, as she so often commented, ‘now that we’re fucking.’

“It wasn’t Mrs. P, she never came here, it was Ellen I was describing,” I said, thinking, ‘Ellen was here in December, close enough to November, even for Miss Wendy Perfection.’

“Why didn’t you say so?” Wendy said in her perky voice as if to say, ‘we can work with that.’

I shrugged, wondering myself why I had tried to substitute Mrs. P, then used the time with Brenda for the description. 

“What was she wearing?”

Wendy watched me closely as I thought what I was going to tell her. Ellen had worn a bathrobe, usually over a nightgown but on the night we did it on the back of the couch, she had been naked under the robe.

“She wore a robe,” I answered truthfully.

Wendy, dressed in bra, panties, stockings, garter belt, high heel shoes, and a slip, stared at me, appraising my answer.

“Got one?”

I bit my lip, contemplatively. Marcie had given me a robe when I was a sophomore in high school. I tried to remember if I still had it, having worn it exactly twice. 

“This will work,” Wendy said enthusiastically when I produced the robe.

She must have taken thirty minutes in the bathroom. I took off my clothes, except for my boxers and socks, noticing how chilly the room had become. Naturally, I had a condom tucked in each sock, staying true to the script. Ellen had insisted we use them.


The first thing I noticed were her bare feet. The rob, a men’s small, must have shrunk while it hung in my closet the four years. The sleeves were short and it was too small at the shoulders. There was a three-inch gap down the front, showing bare skin from her tits down to her bush. Only at the middle, where the belt hugged her stomach, did the two parts meet. Timidly, she approached me. I was overcome with her courage. No wonder it had taken so long for her to get ready.

We hugged and I kissed her. My hands roamed her body, rubbing her back through the robe to generate some heat. I felt her hands on my bare back, exploring, clear down to the crack of my ass, then back up. 

The robe separated easily and I felt her nipples against my chest. Still locked in a deep kiss, I cupped her tits, rolling the nipples. I threaded one hand inside the robe and felt her bare back, tracing the vertebrae down to her ass as she had done to me. 

“How does this work?” she asked in a childish voice, making me wonder if she was really ready or merely going through with it to support her claim, ‘now that we are fucking.’

She wanted description, a script to follow. It had been so simple with Ellen. She had been in charge, bending over the couch and saying, ‘come and get it.’

Wendy was more refined than Ellen, she would be offended if I told her how Ellen had put it. I moved my lips to one of her nipples and at the same time, reached down and flattened my hand over her bush. Her arms tightened on my back as her legs opened to my touch, a slight moan escaping her lips. I slipped a finger between the lips of her pussy and to my surprise, she flooded my hand. 

Knowing Wendy’s affinity for realism, I gave her the straight story.

“Ellen bent her body over the couch and said, ‘come and get it.”

Wendy snapped her head back and her arms relaxed to her sides. With one quick jerk of her shoulders, the robe slid to the floor. An evil grin crossed her face as she reached down and slipped my shorts over my hips. She continued to smile, devilishly, as she watched me roll a condom on my cock. Her open mouth came to mine as she reached for my cock, squeezing, then giving it a little tug. Satisfied, she turned and leaned over the back of the couch and spread her legs.

“Come and get it,” she said in the scratchy high-pitched voice that I found so sexy.

She was indeed ready. I slipped inside her and begin to thrust. She braced herself with her hands on the center cushion and her feet on the floor, moving her butt back to meet me. We adjusted her height a couple of times by spreading her legs out, then tightening them to just right. She made a throaty sound, ‘ahhhhhhhhhhh,’ as I pounded her. She was immovable, holding her ass in place as I banged her. She was giving me the ride of my life. 

When the ‘ahhhhhhhhs,’ became shrill, I knew that she was coming. Her legs buckled and she was no longer pushing back. I slowed until I felt resistance again, she was back with me. A stir in my balls told me that I was getting close. I began to pound hard and heard the legs of the couch skid forward. The ‘ahhhhhhs,’ were getting faint as I felt the rubber fill with my explosion.

We were still, me slumped over her, clinging to her massive ass, she making little gargling sounds, both satisfied. I felt the walls of her pussy ‘talk’ to my cock but it was too tired to ‘talk’ back. I let it slip from her. She rose slowly, then raced to the bathroom, to clean up and dress, I thought.

“Cotton,” I heard her call to me in the little girl voice she often used. 

I went to the bathroom door and listened.

“Bring me the robe, please.”

As I handed the robe to her, she wanted to know if I had brought the pie in. Marcie had given us portions of two pies as we left her house. I had forgotten to bring it in from the car but said I would go out and get it.

To my surprise, Wendy appeared wearing only the robe. We sat at the dining table, eating cold pumpkin and apple pie with milk. Wendy insisted that I remove my shirt so we would be even. The robe did little to cover her body. 

We made plans for our trip the next day. We would leave early and take her car. We even went over what I would pack and what she needed to bring. We would get a motel room and come back on Saturday. ‘Hummm, or Sunday?” she grinned.

“Promise me something,” she said when I came back from depositing the dishes in the kitchen.

“Sure, what is it?” We were facing each other, standing behind the couch.

“That you won’t embellish stories any more.”

“I didn’t embellish,” I tried to defend myself. All I had done was take liberties with the characters in the story. Relenting, “I won’t.”

“Something else...” she had pulled down my pants and took my cock in her hand.

“Don’t even THINK of bending ME over that couch again,” she said, emphasizing each of the ten words with a tug, pulling sharply when she got to ‘THINK and ME.’

“Okay,” I responded, trying to free myself from her hand. But she wouldn’t let go.

“Let’s try the front side,” she said, pulling me around the couch and on top of her. What happened next was a milestone; it marked the first time Wendy and I had sex together without following a script. We made love on the couch, slowly, splendidly spontaneously. After which, she thanked me and I thanked her. 

~*~

Her big car was a dream to drive. It was a clear November morning and the sun was shining brightly. Wendy opened the conversation, wanting to know about my break up with Mrs. P. 

“It all started with the wedding,” I began.

**The Engagement**

Marcie told me I was the first to know. She proudly displayed the ring, a shockingly sizable stone. I acted as if it came as a surprise. She and Tad and been dating forever. It was inevitable that they would marry. There had only been one question.

“When is the wedding?” I wanted to know. What I really needed to know was where they would live and what was to happen to the flower shop and to me.

“Are you okay with this?” 

‘What was she going to do, call off the wedding if I had a problem with her getting married?’

“Of course not, how could I?” 

The marriage was to take place the 1st of August. There would be time for a two-week honeymoon before the state senate met to begin their fall session. They would make their home at the state capital. Tad had already picked out a house for them. 

“But we’ll be here on weekends to check up on you,” she said, brushing my hair; her sisterly charms begging to be heard.

“Do you think I need to be checked on?” I said, fishing for an answer to ‘what is to happen to the flower shop and me?’ while reminding her that she was not my sister; we were not even related. 

We were sitting at the dining room table where every conversation we ever had took place. I had finished my homework and was busy making entries in the ledgers. We talked until 1 a.m., which was totally out of character for Marcie. She was not a talker, especially on a school night. 

Of course, she would need to move to Capital City to be with her husband but Tad had always come back to his district on weekends. They were planning to buy a house on Elm and....

I faded out for a second. Mrs. P’s house was on Elm. “What did you say? Elm? What number on Elm?”

Marcie gave me a suspicious look, but answered. The house, it turned out, was the one with the wall, where I had sat one rainy night, watching the house across the street, waiting for the upstairs lights to go out before making my way across the street and peer in at Mrs. P’s in her kitchen.

This could be beneficial to me. Surely, I would be invited to the Senator’s home occasionally and that could open all sorts of reasons to get to know the neighbors. 

“Cotton,” she waved her hand in front of my face to bring me back. 

For the next three hours I listened to the many reasons she had for marrying Tad, a State Senator from a ‘good family.’ She had considered the marriage for some time and as it turned out, the pros outweighed the cons. 

Tad had been married before and had a child. He was also a dozen years older than Marcie. Those, plus having to leave the flower shop and me were the only cons, in her eyes. The pros were many. She enumerated them one by one, counting them out on the fingers on her left hand. When she got to the thumb on her right hand, I yawned. It was after midnight.

At a quarter to one, the conversation turned for the better and I became alert.

“We want you to stay here and run the shop,” she said. I wondered who ‘we’ was but was too excited to ask. I would be ‘in charge’ and on my own.

“We’ll look in on you on weekends and expect a full report, we know we can count on you,” she said smiling that sisterly smile of hers.

“Who’s we?” I wanted to know, knowing. 

**The Wedding**

Marcie had bought a new dining room table for the house across the street from where Mrs. P lived on Elm Street. Fully extended, the table seated two dozen people. She had me pick up enough chairs from Tad’s parents home to augment the eight chairs that came with the table.

On Saturday night before the wedding, I found myself seated between two of Marcie’s college friends. Across from me was Mollie, Tad’s twelve year old daughter, who, because I been assigned the task of picking her up at her grandparent’s home and was going to take her home, considered me her date for the evening. Mollie and I were the only ones not allowed to drink wine, everyone else did.

Marcie presided over the dinner from the head of the table, Tad at her side. Together, they kept the caterers, a young couple, hopping. 

Considering Tad’s status as a politician, the party was small. Marcie had invited four of her college friends and their husbands; the others were associates of Tad. With the wine flowing, the small group was laughing at the slightest provocation and becoming noisy. All I could think of was depositing Mollie at her grandparent’s house, then coming back to the house across the street without being seen. Mrs. P’s children were with their father in Oregon. We would have the entire week ahead together while Marcie and Tad were on their honeymoon. Little did I know that it was not to be.

Brenda, the lady to my right was a quiet, a refined college friend of Marcie. I noticed that she drank very little wine and only laughed when Tad got into a bread-throwing contest with one of his guests at the other end of the table. We made small talk. She told me about her two children and pointed out her husband who seemed to be having a good time with his seatmates, wives of politicians. Brenda was very attractive. We carried on a pleasant conversation. I would have been content to talk only with her, had it not been for the lady to my left. 

She introduced herself as Peaches, saying that had been her college nickname. Brenda said she would prefer that Peaches use her real name, Barbara. I agreed. A big boned woman, Barbara wasted no time in draining her glass just as the bottle came our way. She waved at a large framed man on the other side of the table, elbowing me, “that’s my better half,” she confided.

I had been ordered to be nice to Mollie. She looked bored but sat up in her seat when I included her in the conversation, explaining to Barbara and Brenda that Mollie was the daughter of the groom. 

“I hear you know Ellen,” Barbara said, probably because there had been several minutes of silence. Brenda’s head turned my way.

“Yes, she was here at Christmas time,” I answered, thinking nothing of the comment until Brenda looked around as if she was noticing for the first time that Ellen was not among the invited guests. 

I had noticed also that Ellen had not been invited but I was somewhat relieved. It would be awkward, considering that I was devoted to Mrs. P and was looking forward to the week ahead. No children and no Marcie to disturb us.

“How is Ellen?” Brenda asked. 

“I’ll bet he knows exactly how she is,” Barbara said before I could answer. I must have looked embarrassed, wishing I could slip under the table and disappear because Brenda put her hand on my arm and whispered in my ear.




Wendy Ch. 10



“Don’t pay any attention to her,” she said.

Overhearing Brenda, Barbara would not let it rest, “so you do know how she is, you found out, didn’t you?”

“Barbara, hush, you’re making Cotton uncomfortable,” Brenda said in a quiet but forceful voice.

I felt something on my ankle and glared across the table at Mollie. ‘The kid is bored, she’s playing games,’ I thought. But Mollie was deeply engrossed in conversation with the guy to her left. Besides, she was too short to reach that far unless she got under the table. I felt it again, raising my pants leg, rubbing my leg. I looked at Barbara. She was smiling at me, lustfully. 

Trying to dismiss the thing that was moving farther up my leg, I turned to Brenda, trying to think of something to say.

“Is something wrong, Cotton?” Brenda asked, seeing me grimace as I felt Barbara’s hand pinch the back of my leg. She had dropped her napkin and while under the table to retrieve it, ran her hand up my leg, pulled on the little hairs and pinched me.

“No, nothing,” I stammered. Barbara had resurfaced and was smoothing the napkin on her lap. 

I don’t remember what was served that night, just the wine being poured, and the bread flying through the air. There were several courses and the meal seemed to last forever.

Marcie introduced me to the other two college friends. The men had adjourned to what Marci referred to as the drawing room for cigars and brandy. I told her that I was going to take Mollie home and that I would see her the following day. Thankfully, she did not say anything about my coming back. Mrs. P was expecting me.

“Cotton, would you mind taking me to that dreadful motel?” Barbara must have overheard me tell Marcie that Mollie and I were leaving.

Mollie sat in the middle, next to me, inching closer to make room for Barbara.

“Take the little girl home first if you want, Cotton,” Barbara suggested. 

“No!” Mollie was indignant, taking exception to being called the little girl, I’m sure. 

She must be going through a traumatic time, I thought. Her father was taking a new bride, abandoning any hope that she may have harbored for a reconciliation with her mother. I yielded to Mollie’s desire and headed for the motel.

White’s Court was indeed a dreadful motel. Neon signs advertised ‘TV in every room’ and ‘air conditioned.’ Barbara directed me to room number 9. As she got out of my car, she thanked me for the ride and said she looked forward to seeing me the next day.

With Barbara out of the car, there was plenty of room for Mollie to move over but she remained leaning against me. Thinking of what she must be going through, I put my arm around her. She looked up at me, admiringly. We drove like that for a few blocks until I decided that it wouldn’t look right if someone saw us, my being six years older. I removed my arm from her and put my hand on the steering wheel, to the ire of Mollie.

The child moved away from me, as far as she could get. Taking my arm away had offended her. “That lady forgot her scarf,” she exclaimed, letting her voice rise.

I had noticed the scarf as we walked to my car. Barbara had a green silk scarf over her shoulders. ‘How silly, wearing a scarf in this weather,’ had crossed my mind. Other than matching her dress, it made no sense.

“It smells just like her,” Mollie had discovered. She placed the scarf on the seat between us and rolled down her window to get a whiff of fresh air. I didn’t blame her.

When we stopped in front of her grand parent’s house Mollie did not open the door as I expected she would. She sat on her side of the seat, silent. I caught on. The little flat cheated girl wanted me to walk her to the front door. I went around the car, opened the door for her and she stepped out, proudly. 

My first thought was to forget about the scarf until the next day. I would place it a bag and give it to her at the wedding, saying, “You left this in my car.” How I wish I had followed through with that thought.

But what would she do with a green silk scarf during the ceremony? She would probably be dressed in white, or off white, considering the weather. The scarf was too big to fit in a pocket book. Women didn’t carry pocket books to weddings anyway. What if her brawny husband overheard me saying, ‘you left this in my car?’ What if he took it the wrong way?

I parked in front of room number 9. There was no need to knock; the door was open and I could see her standing there in the green dress, watching me. I held up the scarf for her to see why I was there. She stood there, silently, watching me.

I opened the screen door and walked toward her. Barbara took the scarf from my hand and tossed it aside. Her mouth was open and her eyes bore into mine. I turned to leave and felt her hand grip mine.

When I turned back, her dress was open down the front, right down to her round belly and the dark bush below it. She placed my hands on her tits and her mouth to mine. “Barb...ah...I..don...Barba.,” was all could say. I felt my belt buckle being released and the sound of my zipper. Her tits filled my hands. They were soft, round, and large. My pants slipped to my ankles. I tried to move my hands but she had me in a bear hug, restraining me. When she reached for my shorts, I pushed off and held her at arms length, using her tits for leverage, of course.

“Call me Peaches,” she said, now covering my hands with hers. I couldn’t relax. She was pushing forward against my hands, holding them in place with hers. We were at a standoff. Checkmate: my pons were guarding her rooks but she had her sites on my king, which was showing signs of growing under a heavy crown. Meanwhile, her queen glistened in anticipation of capturing my king. 

“Okay, Peaches, I don’t think we...” 

My pons felt her rooks’ nipples grow. My pons...became......pons.

Her hands moved quickly. She had me by the shirt collar and was dragging my shackled body toward the bed. Clumsily, with short steps, I followed her. 

The dress was open down the front but in her haste to raise both legs, her knees caught enough of the fabric to cause the back of the dress to rip open. Hearing the sound, I thought immediately of the screen door, being opened by her husband. Suspended above her on one elbow, my shackled feet hanging over the end of the bed, I felt her guide my cock into her pussy. I couldn’t move, thinking I had smelled cigar smoke. She pushed upward to engulf more of me and wrapped her legs around my butt.

I could not move, sure that her giant husband was behind us. She was like a turbine under me, churning, grunting, grinding, using my immobile body. 

The cigar smoke became overpowering, circling the room, making my head pound. Or was it the pounding my cock was taking from the piston action beneath me? I had to know if he was there. I turned my head to look. Nothing, no cigar, no husband. 

Peaches grabbed my head and brought me down to her. The kiss was intense. Relieved that no one was watching, I slammed by cock into her. She gasp, surprised that I was participating in her game of folly. Breaking the kiss, I gazed down at her. She smiled, a satisfied smirk on her face, having captured my king, checkmate.

I took over the piston action, fulfilling her desires. She was getting what she came for. Her face was twisted and her breathing was labored. Little sounds, ‘ug...ug...ah..ug,’ came from deep within her. Her legs were no longer wrapped around my butt and her arms, which had clutched me so tightly to her, were now limp. Beads of sweat formed at her hairline and rolled into her eyes and down to the rolls of loose skin around her neck.

I was relentless, pounding her in her own fashion, foolishly thinking that I was teaching her a lesson, holding out as long as I could. Satisfied that I had given her something to remember, I surrendered to the boiling in my balls and let go. 

Leaving, I looked back. Her two chubby legs were now flat on the bed, open to the patch at the V, my cum oozing out and dripping onto the torn dress. Her chest was rising and falling, tits spiraled loosely without form. At one corner of the dress was a wet smear where I had wiped the juices from the ‘king.’

Wendy, recognizing that we were approaching our destination, suggested that we arrange for a motel room first, before visiting with the growers. 

“You can call the Bresdons to get directions and I can freshen up a bit,” she said in the seductive tone I knew so well.

{to be continued}

{my thanks to Patrick}



Wendy Ch. 11



Wendy Ch 11 Brenda

“See if the have a room number 9,” Wendy said with a wink when I got out of the car at a promising looking motel. It was still early in the day, no problem.

We had time to tour the greenhouses before lunch. The Bresdons were congenial hosts, serving a simple but nourishing fare, sparing us from left over turkey and pumpkin pie. They were in their thirties, just getting their start in the nursery business and anxious please.

After lunch, Wendy presented a freshly printed contract for our review. Not having had the opportunity to see it, I was furious. Glaring at her, I attempted to convey my discontent with her presumption that what she had prepared would be acceptable, to the Bresdons, to me.

To my surprise, the agreement was simple and straight forward with plenty of latitude for changes as the seasons changed. She had incorporated my suggestions and, unbeknownst to me, had spoken with the Bresdons to get their input. We selected the suitable plants for our area, plugged in tentative quantities and worked out a flexible delivery schedule. Within two hours the contract was ready to sign. Wendy distributed copies to each of us, placing mine and her copy in the expensive briefcase she always carried.

We had finished early and had several hours of daylight to explore the area. The

Bresdons wanted us to come back to have dinner with them but we made some excuse, not revealing that we had reserved a room at a local motel. We spent the rest of the day 

touring the area. This was only the second time Wendy and I had been together, outside of her apartment. Thanksgiving with Marcie didn’t really count.

“Can you pick up some things for me at the drug store? I forgot to bring shampoo.” Wendy said as soon as we got to the room.

“I brought some,” I said, not wanting to leave her.

“I need some other things, here’s a list,” she said, handing me a folded piece of paper. 

“Okay, I’ll walk, it’s just up the street,” I agreed, thinking the walk would do me good. I had eaten more than usual a nearby restaurant. 

“No, take the car, that way you won’t be gone so long,” she reasoned.

The drugstore was only three blocks away. Puzzled, I took the car keys, wondering, ‘what’s the rush?’

I saw it as soon as I open the car door and the overhead light went on. A green silk scarf, folded in half, lay on the seat.

At the drug store I took a shopping basket and unfolded the paper that she had given me. It was a short list: Shampoo! No brand name. I replaced the shopping basket and left the store.

Stepping inside the motel room I was not surprised to see her standing in front of the bed. She wore the dress that we had used to re-enact the night with Mrs. P., the one with thirteen buttons down the front. Naturally, the front of the dress was open and I could see that Wendy had nothing else on. She took the scarf from me and tossed it to the side, a flirtatious grin on her face. I must have had a foolish grin on my face, knowing what was going to take place. 

I turned toward the door, tentatively, as if to leave. Wendy grabbed my hands and thrust them to her breasts and her mouth to mine. I mumbled a half hearted protest. My belt buckle opened and I felt my pants slip down my legs. She stopped me when I moved my hands on her tits; I was enjoying myself too much. I was expected to try to leave. When I lifted my hands she caught me in a bear hug, clutching me to her. 

She reached for my shorts and I pushed off of her, noticing that her nipples were at full attention.

“Call me Peaches,” she said, now covering my hands with hers. We struggled, pushing back and forth. Using her weight to her advantage she held her place. 

“Okay, Peaches, I don’t think we.....” 

“You skipped the chess part, tell me about your king and my queen,” she prompted me to get me back on track.

“My pons,” I began, squeezing her tits, “are guarding your rooks,” squeezing again. Her look told me to play it straight.

Looking down at my cock, “my king is showing signs of defeat, see the pre-cum? It knows it’s about to be captured.” Wendy did as I suggested, looked at my cock, then smiled at me. 

“Now look at your queen. You can tell by the moisture and open lips that it

anticipates the conquest. It looks eager to capture my king. Peaches, I think it’s checkmate.”

With that, she took me by the shirt collar and drug me to the bed, falling backwards. Anticipating her move, I managed to lose my pants on the way but my shorts remained attached, making me stumble and fall on top of her.

The dress did not ripe on the first try. Undaunted, Wendy stretched both sides of the dress and tried again, bring both knees up in a jerking motion. I heard the back of the dress split up the middle. I thought of the screen door at room number 9 back at White’s Court. Was that cigar smoke I smelled? I was tempted to look over my shoulder to see if the huge husband was watching us.

From a pocket on the dress she produced a condom, already out of its wrapper. She unrolled it on my stiff cock, and drew me to her. 

She pushed forward, taking me, straining, bucking, consuming me. I pushed forward and felt a jab in my ribs, reminding me that she was to do the work. I let her 

thrust upward to receive my cock. She encircled my butt with her legs and held me within her range.

“Call me Peaches,” she ordered and I did.

“Peaches, you’re fucking the shit out of me,” I said, feeling the sting of her fist on my rib, stunning me. Silly me, for thinking I had praised her efforts. 

Peaches was working hard, evidenced by the perspiration on her brow and the sound of grunts, coming from deep in her abdomen. I held my butt above her, letting her have her way with my cock. When her legs left my ass and her arms slacked I knew that she was tiring. I let her bring me down for a long kiss, then looked over my shoulder to make sure the jealous husband had not entered the room. 

My first hard thrust was met with the expulsion of air as if I had knocked the wind out of Wendy...ah..Peaches. She tried to bring her legs up to give me better access but it was no use, they were limp. She clutched me with her arms as I hammered her. 

“Call me Pea....call me Pee...” 

I knew what she was trying to say, “Peaches, are you getting what you wanted? Is this what you wanted?” I was working hard, hoping the rubber would stand up to the abuse I was giving it. 

She ran her hands through my hair, then dropped them to the bed, exhausted.

“Peaches? are you all right?” 

She looked up at me through glazed eyes, a slim smile on her lips.

I was tiring also. Slowing, I pushed hard, making every thrust count because my balls told me there would only be a few more. Somehow, Wendy...ah Peaches, held on till I made the final plunge, releasing my cream into the rubber. 

“That’s something else ‘we are NEVER going to do again,’” Wendy said when we had come to our senses, tugging on my flaccid cock with each of the seven words. I had gotten up to remove the rubber, then took my place beside her on the bed. She lay there with her arms still in the sleeves of the dress. Otherwise, she was uncovered.

“What’s that?” I asked, guarding my cock between my legs so she could not get hold of it again.

“That hard fucking you gave me, I liked it better last night on you couch, you know, slower, more contact.”

“I know,” I said, kissing her. “I like it better that way too.”

“And another thing,” she said, reaching for my cock. I spread my legs and let her have it.

“NEVER call me PEACHES again,” she said, emphasizing NEVER and PEACHES,

We lay on our backs for a long time, both practically naked. She turned her head to me. “I was just thinking, I’ve had more organisms with you in the past two days than I had with that jerk I let fuck me school.”

“How touching,” I said sarcastically and immediately covered my cock before she could get her hands on it.

We got cleaned up and ready for bed. Wendy wore a short skimpy thing that passed for night-wear. We got beneath the covers; she wanted to talk.

“Was that what caused the break up with Mrs. P.? You and Peaches?”

“Not exactly,” I said.

I was mad at myself, pissed for letting Barbara seduce me, embarrassed because I had been afraid that her husband would catch us, catch me fucking his wife. I went home and called Mrs. P, making an excuse that I couldn’t make it to her house because I had been detained. She was disappointed but that’s all, she believed me. It would have been okay.

“But it wasn’t okay, why not?” Wendy asked, from the darkness in the room.

The next day was the wedding, followed by a reception. I picked up Mollie and her grand parents, took them to the wedding, then to the reception. The old folks wanted to leave early but Mollie put up a fuss. I pacified her by offering to dance with her. This was acceptable but when the first song was over she wanted to dance more. I agreed to one more dance and the same thing happened. I had to reason with her, comparing her to a twelve year old spoiled child. 

Having gotten Mollie and her grandparents home safely, my job was done and my time was my own. I stopped at the cottage to drop off my car and to change clothes. It was only 6:30 p.m. and hours till darkness and safe passage into the arms of Mrs. P.

The phone rang. Brenda told me she had volunteered to be the house sitter while Tad and Marcie were away, her husband having left for home. This was news to me. Why would they need a house sitter at this time? It wasn’t going to be their permanent home. They were to live in Capital City most of the time; the house on Elm Street was to be their weekend home. Brenda had instructions for me:

We were to pick up Tad’s car at the airport and bring it back to the garage. Brenda sounded nervous as she described the task to me. “You can drive me in your car and I’ll drive Tad’s car home,” she paused, “or I can drive you there in Marcie’s car and you can drive Tad’s car back,” another pause, making me wonder what difference it made, “or you can drive Marcie’s car there and back, I’ll drive Tad’s car.”

I walked the few blocks to Marcie’s house, thinking I could cross the street to Mrs. P after we had picked up Tad’s car.

Brenda had changed from the light beige dress I had seen her wear at the wedding and reception to sandy colored shorts and a sleeveless white top. She sat with one leg over a sandal covered foot, the bare knee and thigh pointing in my direction. I couldn’t help notice the summer tan on her arms and legs, a shade darker than her shorts, wondering how far the tan extended. She was 30 and a mother of two; I had no business wondering about how such things.

I did, however, wonder what was behind the house sitting job. Tad had given me a tour of the house a few days before, pointing out the fuse box and various utility shut off valves. He showed me where he kept a list of telephone numbers to call in case of emergency, adding, “you’ll probably know what to do,” as he patted me on the back. He gave me a key saying, “you don’t have to stop by every day.”

Now I had a house sitter to contend with. Had she been planted there to spy on me sneaking into Mrs. P’s house across the street? Or was it something more? Why hadn’t Marcie said something? Probably too busy, I thought, dismissing it, wondering if Mrs. P had spotted me stopping by the house across the street and driving off with Brenda in Marcie’s convertible. If she had, how would she take it? If she had.......

“The Ape Goes Wild In the Picnic Area,” Brenda said, breaking the silence.

“Huh?” I said, looking at her.

“That’s what’s playing at the drive-in,” she said, pointing to the sign in front of the outdoor movie theater. “Do you like the drive-in?”

How was I suppose to answer that question? The drive-in was a place to take a date and make out. I had never done that. My experiences at the drive-in was going with a car full of guys who made fools of themselves, making noise and disturbing older people who came to see the movie. We got kicked out once. 

“I don’t know, I haven’t been there very much,” I said, hoping she would drop the subject.

“That sounds like the kind of movie that gets the girl in your lap,” Brenda said, grinning at me.

“I’ll bet it is,” I grinned back at her, picturing a scene in the movie. The big hairy ape lifts a table full of food and waves it at the guys, holding them at bay while he selects the girl he wants to carry off into the woods. ‘That would get your date in your lap,’ I thought.

I shook myself back to reality, knowing that Brenda was watching me. 

On the way back I read the drive-in sign. In addition the ape movie there was a second feature, “Mister Geeters Goes to School.” I wondered who Mr. Geeters was, probably another ape. In my rear view mirror I saw that Brenda was pointing to the sign, motioning for me to read it. A line of cars was waiting to get in. It was getting dark and the movie would start soon.

It was getting dark. I set my plan, park the cars in the garage, then cross the street find Mrs. P waiting for me in her sewing room. Just thinking about her made my dick stir in my pants.

I could see that she was going to have trouble getting Tad’s car in the garage. What difference does it make? It can sit out one night, I’ll take care of it tomorrow. Still, that was the whole idea. Tad had wanted us to bring his car home and park it in the garage. I had parked Marcie’s car was over too far, I would have to move it over, park Tad’s car beside it, then I could be on my way.

“Are you leaving so soon? Do you have a date or something?” Brenda wanted to know when we had the cars arranged in the garage.

“No, no...ah...no,” I lied.

“It’s just that it’s dark in the house, would you come in with me till we get the lights on?” She sounded sad, lonesome maybe. 

I would give anything to have those precious moments of my life back. To make a different decision, to tell her not to be a baby, to go inside with her, to tell her not to be a baby, to go inside with her? If I had another chance, which would I do?

“Sure,” I said, we’ll go inside and find the bogy man.”

I went through the house and turned on all the lights. Brenda followed me, turning them off. When we got to the front hallway I turned and headed to the back door.

“Check upstairs please,” she looked up at me. What a lovely woman, I was thinking, wondering what was going on with her.

We went through the upstairs rooms, turning lights on and off. ‘Is Mrs. P watching this from across the street? What must she be thinking?’

Heading back down the stairs I started to laugh, thinking of the absurdity of what we were doing. Forgetting that Brenda was behind me I laughed out loud.

“What’s so funny?” I heard he say. Stunned, I turned to see her looking up at me.

“Ah....it was.....ah...it was nothing,” I stammered.

“It must have been something, now tell me what’s so funny,” she had a hand on my arm and she was standing close, imploring.

“I was just thinking about the drive-in, you know, what was playing and what you said.” I was just talking, not thinking what I was saying, making something up so I wouldn’t have to tell her the real reason I had been laughing.

“Tell me what your were thinking,” her voice was soft, inviting.

I had to think of something. But what?

“Better still,” she had an idea, I could see it in her eyes, “show me,” she said, looking around.

We were in the drawing room where the men had gathered the night before. There were lingering smells of stale cigars and brandy. She picked out a love seat and sat down.

“You sit here,” she directed me to have a seat next to her. I sat down.

“There’s the screen,” she said, pointing to the wall on the other side of the room, “now we’re at the drive-in, you tell me and show me what you were thinking that made you laugh.”

“Okay,” I said, “but then I have to get going, tomorrow is Monday and all that.”

She nodded agreement.

I looked at the far wall and raised my hands, imitating a director illustrating what was about to happen on the screen.

“Aren’t you forgetting something? You’ve brought a date to the drive-in, right?” 

It was dark in the drawing room. I was able to make out her wide laughing eyes.

“Want some popcorn or something?”

She laughed for several seconds. “Let’s try this again, you’ve brought a date to the drive-in, do you let her sit way over here?”

The love seat was not long. We were already sitting side by side, what was she saying? Wanting to get it over with, I put my arm around her and pulled her close.

“That’s better,” she whispered snuggling close to me. “It’s just like being at the drive-in. The movie is about to start. Now, tell me what we are watching.” 

She had a different aroma. Her hair tickled my cheek and I’ll swear, no I mustn’t think that....I’ll swear that her hand on mine was being pulled to her....I must not even think that...

With my free hand I placed the characters on the screen. “Three young couples are placing their food on a picnic table in a clearing. They are attractive and having a good time.”

“Describe them,” Brenda whispered. She had turned her head and I could feel her breath on my cheek. My hand was still captured by hers, dangerously near her breast. ‘Should I tell her there is a lady waiting for me, just across the street?’

“Those two,” my hand pointed to the right hand side of the screen, “are Dick and Jane.”

“How original,” Brenda laughed, playfully moving my hand.

“Dick is opening a package of chips and Jane is pestering him.”

“Pestering him, how is she pestering him?”

I whispered in Brenda’s ear, “Jane is pinching Dick and tickling his stomach.”

“Where is she pinching him?”

Whispering in her ear,” on his butt.”

“Whoa, this is a family picture, we can’t have that,” Brenda had moved away from me, still clutching my hand.

“Don’t worry, the kids are asleep in the back seat by now.”

“Oh,” she said, sighing and snuggling close to me, pulling my hand down even farther. I could feel the swell of her breast, round, soft. 

I took a deep breath and crossed one leg over the other, trying to hide my growing cock. I decided to speed things up so I could go to my woman who, by now, must suspect something was up. She would have been right.

“Besides Dick and Jane, Pete and Petra and Sam and Samantha are getting ready to sit down. Wait, I think something is happening.”

Brenda looked at me in mock surprise. “What, what can it be?”

“Oh, it’s nothing, Sam is just going to the edge of the clearing to take leak.”

Brenda jumped in shock, gave me a look of warning, then slammed back into me, bringing my hand back to her breast. ‘Had it grown, had the nipple stiffened?’

“Suddenly, an ape appears at the other end of the clearing, making the girls scream. Sam, who is zipping up his pants, turns to see the ape pick up the table, making the food fly in all directions. The other two guys, Dick and Pete, try to stand their ground but then the ape swings the table at them, they run squealing into the woods. This leaves the ape and the three girls and Sam of course. Sam is not sure what to do. The girls are making such a racket that it confuses the ape. He can’t decide which one to carry off as he had planned. He doesn’t like the sound of the screaming. Then he notices that Sam is not making a sound. This is very appealing to the ape. Sam, of course, sees that the ape is attracted to him, He tries to flee but the ape soon catches him and carries him off.”

“Is that the end?” Brenda asked.

“Not quite, Dick and Pete return to find Jane and Petra and Samantha sitting at the picnic table having salvaged some of the food. They join the girls and finish the picnic. THE End.”

We sat on the love seat for several minutes, silently staring at the blank wall. I was thinking of a way to make my exit when Brenda spoke.




Wendy Ch. 11



“What do you suppose that couple in the next car is doing?”

“Don’t you want to know the moral to the ape story?” If I could get her to laugh and release her grip on my hand for a second perhaps I could make my exit and make it across the street before Mrs. P gave up and went to bed. 

“No, I didn’t like the ape story.”

I was beside myself. Nothing was working. Was she going to keep me here all night? Little did I know.

“Look at them,” she said, pointing to the imaginary car with her left hand, not releasing my hand which she held in place with her right hand.

“They’re playing a game,” I speculated.

“Really, what game is it?”

“Baseball,” I said, having heard about a very popular game couples played at the drive-in.

“Baseball at the drive-in? How is it played?”

She was spoofing me. A woman her age had not only heard of the game but had probably participated in it.

“You know, first base, second base and so on.”

“I’ve never heard of it, honest, tell me,” she said in sincerity, pressing my hand to her tit. There was no question.

Hastily, I kissed her, “That’s first base, now do you get it?”

“That wasn’t a kiss, you’re still at home plate, in fact, that’s strike one, two more and you’re out.” With that, she freed my hand and brought her lips to mine. I put more effort into this kiss. Her lips were soft and moved like little ripples on a pond. She took my lower lip between her teeth to tease me. I tried to not think of Mrs. P. being alone across the street. Brenda broke our kiss and sat back, fanning her face.

“Okay, you got to first base but remember, you still have one strike, three strikes and your out. What’s second base?”

This little game was coming easy to her. But I was enjoying her attempt to disguise her prior knowledge as to how it was played.

I pulled her close again, slipping my hand inside her blouse. “This is second base,” I said, squeezing her bra clad breast, briefly, then pulling my hand away.

“That’s not second base,” she said, unruffled. “You have to ‘slide in’ to second base, you’re still on first, with two strikes, one more strike and your out.” With that, she pushed me back on the love seat and sprawled on top of me and gave me an open mouth, tongue searching kiss, feeling, I was certain, my cock which had sprung to life. I felt her bra strap on her back and fumbled with the catch until it snapped open.

Easing up on the kiss, she gave me space to unbutton the top three buttons on her blouse and insert both hands beneath her bra. The kiss intensified as I cupped her tits gently grazing the nipples with my thumbs. “You’ve got second base well in hand,” Brenda laughed, leaning back to let me enjoy massaging her tits. My eyes had become accustomed to the darkness. She seemed to be enjoying the attention I was giving them. 

I leaned over and took one of her nipples between my lips, circling it with my tongue, pushing it, flicking it, causing Brenda to take my head in her hands and say, “mercy.”

I snaked one hand up her shorts leg, feeling the edge of her panties before Brenda grabbed my hand and held it. “Is that how you go for third base? You’re running out of the base path, take a more direct approach,” she said, directing her eyes to the small belt around her waist. I was thankful that she didn’t call strike three. Instead, she pushed me back on the love seat arm and brought her mouth to mine.

It only took seconds to open the buckle and lower the zipper lowered. I felt the curve in her ass as I pushed her shorts down. “Watch the steering wheel,” she said, reminding me that we were at the drive-in as she broke our kiss and leaned back on the seat. I moved to the floor, careful to avoid bumping into the steering wheel or accidentally honking the horn. She looked down at me, anticipation on her face, wearing the sleeveless and unbuttoned blouse over the bra which hung loosely over her tits, and white cotton panties. 

As I had guessed, her legs were tanned as far as I could see and smooth with not a hair showing. The band at the top of her panties hugged her round tummy, reminding me of Mrs. P., for about two seconds. I knew what I was going to do. I was heading for third and I would run out of the base lines. Picking up her left foot at the ankle, I kissed her knee cap, then, raising her leg high, I kissed behind the knee. 

Brenda sat still, watching me through half closed eyes. Taking the other leg the same way, I kissed behind the knee and up her inner thigh, licking and kissing all the way to her panties. That is when I noticed the aroma invading my nostrils and the wet spot in the crotch of her panties. Repeating the process on her other leg I was enjoying running out of the base path because I knew she was not about to call me out for it. 

The wet spot was growing. I touched my tongue to it and pushed in. Brenda made a little coughing sound and pushed her pelvis forward, wanting me to pull the panties down but I paid no attention. I pushed my tongue against her panties again and moved it around. She opened her legs and clucked her tongue sharply. I felt her hands on the back of my head.

As I moved my hands to the top of her panties her butt came off of the seat in an instant to accommodate me. The plain white panties slid down her legs with ease to reveal her wet and matted hair. Her butt was on the edge of the seat, her legs open. My tongue traced her pink and open libia majora, then pushed inside. I looked up to see a strange expression on her face, her eyes were closed and her mouth was open. 

Her pelvis moved forward, anticipating each lap my tongue was making between her lips. I smoothed the wet matted hair aside and inserted a finger. Brenda lifted her butt off the seat to meet it. I inserted a second finger and pushed in farther, placing my thumb where her clit should be. My hand was getting wet as Brenda met each stroke. She hands rubbed my head as my thumb moved in a circular motion with each thrust of my fingers. Her head rested on the seat back, making her neck look unusually long and her lips were making little smacking sounds between gasps for air. 

I felt one of her hands leave my head to grip my hand, holding it still as her other hand pulled a fist full of my hair, forcing me to halt my actions. Her pelvis made little jumps, sending aftershocks to other parts of her body. At some point her legs had snapped shut, capturing my hand with two fingers inserted in her pussy. A full minute passed.

Relaxing, she released my hand and drew me up to her breast, lowering her chin to the top of my head. “Mercy,” she said softly, “mercy.”

She picked up her shorts and panties and took my hand. On the way up the stairs I thought of Mrs. P and considered what I would say when I got to her sewing room. Brenda was ahead of me on the stairs. When I reached up to run my hand over the smooth skin of her ass she looked back and smiled at me forcing any thought of Mrs. P to drift away. She led me to the upstairs guest room she was occupying. Light from the street filtered through the windows in the otherwise darkened room. I watched her remove the blouse and bra. She kicked off the sandals and turned to me where I stood at the foot of the bed. 

She stood in front of me, naked, her eyes fixed on mine, quietly anticipating her first move. Her thirty year old tits were small but perky, with nipples pointing upward, inviting. On tiptoe, her kiss was soft. I reached for her tits. The kiss ended abruptly as she rocked back on her feet and pushed my hands down to my sides. Holding my hands there, “I’m the batter now.”

When she resumed the kiss I left my hands at my sides, understanding that only our lips were touching, her tits were two inches from my chest. The kiss intensified, her hands came up to hold my face, holding me there with distance between our chests. Her mouth opened and I felt her tongue dart out to trace my lips. Short soft kisses to my upper lip, taking it between her teeth, moving to my lower lip, pulling it out gently, covering my mouth with hers while holding my face in place made my dick hurt. I responded to the gentle kisses, moving my lips to meet hers while holding my hands rigid at my sides, wanting to touch her, to reach out and pull her body to mine. 

“That’s first base,” she said as she dropped her hands to my shirt buttons. I was captivated as I watched her hands move, button by button until she reached for the shirt tail and pulled it out of my pants. I could feel the hear from her body as her tits came within one inch of my chest. The shirt sleeves slid down my arms to the floor behind me. She stood in front of me for what seemed like minutes, collecting her thoughts, mapping her next moves. I watched, trying to anticipate what was coming next, wanting this moment to last forever, wanting to reach out and touch her, my mind was a spinning blur.

Her arms were at her sides as she moved up on tiptoes to kiss me softly on the lips, then my neck, my shoulders and lower. I realized my mouth was open as I watcher her lips graze my chest hair. Catching myself, I slammed my hands back to the sides of my legs just as her tongue flipped my nipple. She smiled, amused at my restraint as she moved to the other nipple, flicking her tongue over it, again, again and again. I groaned, pitying my poor cock which was staining to be free of its confines. Something had sucked all the air from the room.

“That’s second base,” she declared in her quiet plainspoken way as she reached for my belt buckle. I wanted to help her, to pull my pants apart and drop them to the floor, to somehow grab my shorts and rip them apart at the seams, to free the blood-filled, aching appendage between my legs. Instead, I dug my fingers into my legs and suffered 

Brenda took her time, unbuckling, unzipping, lowering my pants, watching me step out of them and kick them aside. Carefully, she stretched the waistband of my shorts to clear my cock, lowering herself to her knees as she lowered my shorts to my ankles.

I watched this woman, stared deeply into her eyes and she lifted her head to watch my reaction as she gripped my cock at the.......

My chest imploded, invaded with pain. “NO!” Wendy shouted as her fist hammered my chest again, shaking the bed, “NO!”

I fought for air, clutching my chest, sure that she had broken my ribs. I coughed and wheezed, raising my arms to protect myself in case she struck again. I eased myself out of bed, wanting to get clear of her. I walked around the room, taking short breaths, testing my lungs to determine if something broken. 

“Cotton, I’m sorry, are you all right? come back to bed,” Wendy was whimpering.

I looked at her, fire in my eyes, sure that she had broken my ribs. 

“Come to bed, please, I’m so sorry, are you okay?” She sat up in bed, pleading with me. In the dark her voice sounded sane and sexy. I could see that she had removed the small piece of cloth that had passed for night wear. 

Her body was warm and soft. She cradled me in her arms and coddled me with kisses. “I’m going to be good to you, so good,” she whispered in the dark.