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When I returned to the office at the end of the day, Linda was all wound up. She told me that she had not stopped thinking about our encounter in the shower all day. She wanted to talk about it, to re-live it in her imagination. She had found it an incredible turn on and she relished the memory of it. I was happy to let her go on with her recollections. As she described my shower from her perspective, I got hard just listening the details from her lips. i made no attempt to hide my excitement from her.

After her recollections and she was able to calm down somewhat, she really wanted to get my feedback on some of her more memorable “flashes” from the previous month (it was now early October). I was going to be there til the Winter Break and still had two and a half months left in my work placement.

I told her that the most memorable show for me had been on our first day. Perhaps because it was the first. But it had been a scary one too. it had set the stage for what was too follow this semester.

She had wanted to move some of her files, texts, etc. that had been piled on my desk to clear up some badly needed space in our crowded office. Luckily, there were several shelves on the wall above Linda’s desk with room for them. We both agreed to take care of it after work. She had the custodian drop off a step ladder at the end of classes.

I recounted to her that as I found my way back to the office after a busy and hectic first day and unlocked the office door, I was greeted with quite the sight. She had deciced to get started on her own rather than wait for me to show urfa escort up. As I entered the office, she had her back to me and appeared to be precariously poised on the fourth rung of the step ladder. She was reaching over to place a few text books on the top shelf and I was concerned that she might lose her balance. I dropped my things by the door and hustled over to steady her. As I reached up and grasped her around the waist, she was high up on the ladder and I had to reach above my head to do so.

She appeared somewhat disheveled with her blouse untucked, the waist of her skirt riding high from her stretching. As I was now directly behind her with both hands on either side of her waistband, my hands were very close to touching bare skin. On top of that, I had a raging hardon developing. I was still a bit disoriented and at a loss for words. As I expressed my alarm and was preparing to let go, she dropped back down a step and my hands slid up and under her blouse. As the edge of my index fingers came in contact with the underside of her bra, I gasped audibly as she took another step down and my hands slid further up and came in contact with her full breasts. Although unintentional, I hadn’t been in the office for more than a minute, yet my hands were holding her breasts!

Shocked and mortified (and incredibly turned on!), I quickly dropped my hands back down and out from under her blouse. She looked down at me from over her shoulder and dismounted the step ladder completely as I stepped back. As I was stammering out an apology, she tucked her sivas escort blouse back in, adjusting her waistband and asked if I would take over on the ladder to finish with the top shelf. I was reluctant because of my embarassing state that I could not hide. She could see that, but asked me again.

As I mounted the step ladder to continue with the lifting, my hard-on was raging and could not be hidden. She made a point of placing a hand on my inner thigh to “steady me” everytime she handed me another item to file and ended up brushing my glans or shaft “accidentally” several times. As we finished up, I was trying to draw things out, hoping against hope, but she was in control and we parted for the night.

As we were reliving that first day of sharing our office, she pointed out that she hadn’t been prepared to put on a show for me then. She had dressed as she usually did for work : a plain white bra that fully encased her large breasts in fabric. Great support but not very sexy. She was also wearing pantyhose rather than stockings. However, her blouse was complimentary in both style and fabric and clung to each of her breasts like a glove. The cut of the V-neck allowed a generous glimpse of her cleavage. The skirt and jacket were her usual fare and the latter was hanging on the back of the door.

After finding me waiting for her this morning at the school and realizing that she would be sharing an office with me, she had allowed her imagination to take over. Professionalism took a back seat as she scrambled for a plan that would let her kink tekirdağ escort run wild. She didn’t know me, but she had come up with a way to put on a show without knowing how I would react. She admitted that she had been impulsive, but could not resist her long-buried impulses.

Linda had not counted on any physical contact this first time either. She noted that I appeared nonplussed, upset that my hands had found their way to her breasts so quickly. Even though it had been her doing when she stepped back down from the ladder, I was in a quandary. I thought : WTF? My first day of my teaching career and here it was going to be my last?

I was relieved when she had chosen not to say anything and to pretend that nothing out of the ordinary had happened. But she was in the driver’s seat now and we both knew it.

As the semester proceeded an interesting power dynamic developed. A term I was unfamiliar with – Total Power Interchange (TPI) was at play here. Linda used her unacknowledged domination over me in order to act out her well thought out and orchestrated “shows”. With me as the Sub. She planned her outfits for them : lacey, push up bras with matching panties, garterbelts and stockings, merry widows, high heels… The Shows happened from time to time and on a fairly regular basis – just enough to keep me on edge. And she was able to pretend that they weren’t on purpose. That none of it was intentional. No need to be embarrassed or ashamed. She could count on my total submission to her needs. To her will. There was never any chance that I wouldn’t play along.

After that first day, there hadn’t been any physical contact (she played the game perfectly) until this morning’s shower. Now that everything was on the table, she told me she was willing to indulge her fantasies further, to take her imagination to the next level.

To be cont’d…

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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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Aubrey saw him staring again, but forgave him. She understood, understood how hard it must be for him not to stare at a pair of legs such as hers.

Tanned so well from the past few days out in the sun, her legs were much more interesting than any of the boring artifacts the two teens saw on their sight seeing.

But God, she thought, the boy is obsessed with my thighs. Can he look at anything else?

“Come on, we have to at least try to find the others again,” she said to her 18-year-old companion. “I still can’t believe they fucking left us, but let’s at least make the effort.”

Young Kevin, finally drawn out of the daydreaming he did while gazing at his group leader’s legs, legs that were shown off so well courtesy of the short khaki shorts Aubrey was wearing, followed instruction.

He was not only infatuated with the 18-year-old knockout, who was a classmate of his at the local high school, but looked up to her for she had many more friends than he did.

“You’re right, group leader,” he said. “Roger that.”

Aubrey was getting so annoyed with Kevin’s sense of humor – he kept using dorky phrases like Roger that, and insisted on calling her group leader, like they were in some army or something. For a high school senior, he still acted like some geeky little kid, but Aubrey would soon find out how Kevin was very much grown up.

He was annoying her though, with his acting like the two were part of a expedition, but they were merely part of a weekend outing in the Black Forest, and they didn’t even have the intelligence to stay with the group.

Kevin, and his weak bladder, caused them to lag behind. Aubrey was so annoyed with him when he begged her to stay and wait for him, for as a result the both of them got lost.

“Kevin dammit, do you have to pee every 10 minutes?” Aubrey said, her temper now short not only because of the fact that they were lost in a huge forest, but also because the heat had reached 95 degrees, a marking that was brought to their knowledge via the dorky thermometer Kevin brought along with him. “If you didn’t have to stop, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

“I’m sorry group leader – “

“And Jesus Christ, would you stop with the fucking group leader stuff. My name is Aubrey, and we are not part of a squadron – we are two campers who got lost from their parents. Got it?” she said harshly.

Kevin was startled she had used such language with him – his parents, leaders of a church group and teachers at his high school, didn’t even let him watch R-rated movies so he seldom heard the F-word.

“I’m sorry group leader – I mean Aubrey,” he said.

She sighed out of frustration, and took a look down the long trail in front of them, a trail that had no other travelers in sight except the two of them.

“God,” she said. “I can’t even use my cell phone to call my boyfriend – I can’t get a signal out here in the boondocks. We’re screwed.”

Kevin looked to Aubrey for leadership, but he wasn’t getting much of that. She knew he had a crush on her, which annoyed her even more. A cheerleader and top swimmer – not to forget a brown belt in karate, Aubrey had many outlets to boost her popularity even beyond what she gained from simply being so hot. And she had no attraction to boys as unpopular as poor Kevin.

Not only was he unpopular, but unpopular for a reason. He had all of these stupid camping things with him, she noticed, all of these things that made him look like some geeky scientist wanna-be. He was sort of a scrawny, nerdy type.

She noticed he wasn’t ugly, though. Actually, kind of cute – he had short blonde hair, blue eyes and a good build.

But God, was he a dork. And Aubrey found it difficult to get past that.

“Y-you have a boyfriend?” he asked her, hinting that he was interested in her availability, even though she wouldn’t date him if her young life depended on it.

“Yeah – you know Scott Thompson?” she asked. “You know, captain of the football team? Junior Prom King last year?”

Obviously, she was making Kevin realize the kind of credentials one would have to have to date her.

“Oh, yeah, he’s a cool guy,” said Kevin, whose geekiness never allowed him to ever even cross paths with a social icon such as Mr. Thompson.

“Yeah, been going steady for about a year,” she said to him, again making note that she was not only dating somebody, but seriously dating somebody.

She then burped out loud – the most unfeminine thing you could think of – to show she didn’t even care to act lady-like around Kevin.

But dammit, he was still very much attracted to her.

The thing he thought most about was her legs, but at his age, boys start to find out – via dirty magazines – what lies in between those legs.

Kevin masturbated a lot – the cause for his high-pressure bladder – and found it difficult to be out in the woods with a gorgeous female such as Aubrey and not, as they say, jerk it. He had an awful lot of stuff building up inside him.

He wondered what she looked like naked. The unbelievable heat had caused her to wear only rize escort a skimpy white T-shirt, which gave away the outline of her bra and even a pair of little bumps where her nipples lie.

Breast size was not a problem for Aubrey – she had some world-class knockers.

Kevin also thought about her crotch, maybe more than a young guy should. He was obsessed with it, thought about how hairy she was down there.

God did he get hard when he saw those pictures of a naked female showing off a thick bush of pubic hair. I bet Aubrey has one of those, he thought to himself.

Aside from all of those private parts, Kevin also liked the parts of Aubrey that weren’t covered. She had cute, short brown hair, and a pair of brown eyes he found it easy to look into.

Why can’t I stop pissing her off, though?, he thought to himself. Speaking of piss, however, that’s exactly what Kevin had to do. And he had to do it badly.

“Aubrey?” he said hesitantly as the two walked further down the barren path.

“What!” she said angrily.

“I…I have to go again,” he said, again hesitantly.

“We are not fucking stopping for you to pee for the millionth time,” she said. “Hold it for Christ’s sake.”

He thought he would go along with that idea for the moment at least.

“Okay,” he obeyed.

The pressure built up even more, however, and the sight of Aubrey’s plump, round bottom hugging those tight khaki shorts as she walked in front of him didn’t help either. It only made the pressure worse.

“But Aubrey, I really have to – “

“Stop fucking whining,” she said angrily.

Kevin had lost it. If he didn’t pee now, he was going to piss his pants, and what a sight that would be if the girl he had such a huge crush on saw him wet his damn pants.

He kept walking alright, but zipped down his fly, pulled out his penis, and urinated while walking in full stride.

Shocked with hearing the noise of something spraying against the fallen, dried-up leaves, Aubrey turned around and was shocked to see what she saw.

The 18-year-old brunette wasn’t shocked to see the guy peeing, but shocked to see the size of the penis that pee was coming from.

Kevin’s fist wrapped around the end of his tube steak, there was still enough room for two more pairs of hands to hold its long, fat shaft.

It looked like a damn snake – one of which the two saw in their travels earlier – was hanging out of the boy’s fly.

Aubrey tried to keep walking while staring back at his crotch, and that was a bad idea. She walked right into a tree, but at least now had a reason to stop her steps.

She couldn’t speak, only stare.

“Aubrey – for God’s sake turn around,” the boy said, embarrassed as hell a girl was watching him take a leak.

“Oh jeez, I’m sorry,” she said, sincerely apologizing to the boy – Aubrey would be pretty embarrassed herself if someone looked at her while she was peeing.

“I’ll just, um, head down the path a bit,” she said, turning her head and walking away.

Do I have heat stroke?, Aubrey thought to herself. Was that an hallucination? It must have been. She had never seen such a thing. No guy could have a penis that large. And it wasn’t even hard!

Aubrey even pinched herself to make sure she was not dreaming, and the realization set in that she was not.

Kevin, the dorky, annoying tag-along, was hung like a horse!

She wanted to see it again – not just to make sure it was real, but just to see it. She had only seen one penis in her whole life – her boyfriend’s, and his wasn’t anything special.

Aubrey never knew Kevin real closely – he only came along on this trip because his parents were friends with her parents – the parents that had somehow strayed away from the two youths earlier in the day. And that was the result of Kevin’s necessity to pee. This time when he had to pee, however, oh did good things happen for Aubrey. She had the vision of that huge penis etched in her memory.

She knew exactly how to see a re-run.

“Kevin,” she screamed out, seeing that her travel partner was heading up the trail with his trouser snake back in its cage. “Better drink plenty of water.”

“But I’ll have to – “

“Don’t worry about having to pee, sweetheart,” she said. Did I just call him sweetheart?, she thought to herself. Better not make my attraction to him not too obvious, she realized.

“Yeah, drink plenty of water – we don’t want to get heat stroke,” she said. “And I mean gulp it down, I mean really gulp that stuff down, by the bottle.”

Kevin went into his dorky backpack, a backpack that now served Aubrey quite well, and fetched his industrial-sized cantine. He started gulping down, just like Aubrey instructed, tons and tons of water.

He would have to pee in no time.

The two continued walking down the trail, but this time side by side.

Aubrey looked down at Kevin’s wardrobe and now realized why the boy was wearing pants despite the 90-degree heat.

With a penis that large, how could he wear shorts?

“I – “

“Gotta sakarya escort pee?” Aubrey answered, jumping to conclusions a bit too fast.

“Um, no. I was just going to say that I bet our parents went to the ranger’s station, which is only about a mile down that way,” he said, pointing the other way up the path.

He was probably right, Aubrey realized, but she didn’t want them to find their parents any time soon. She wanted to see that penis of his once, or maybe twice, again.

“Yeah…but you know what?” she asked.

“What?” he replied, already starting to show discomfort, as if he had to wizz again.

“We better keep walking down this way just a bit longer – you never know, they might have gone back to where we lost them in the first place,” she said.

“Yes group leader,” he replied.

Aubrey didn’t care what he called her now – she just wanted to see him pee again.

And she was about to get her wish.

“Well, before we start up, I’m gonna go,” he said.

“Sure,” she replied. “I’ll wait here.”

Kevin went about 20 yards off the trail, behind a big tree that was well out of sight of Aubrey.

But never underestimate the power of a woman, even a youngster such as Aubrey.

The brunette very quietly – not counting a few broken twigs she stepped on here and there – snuck out to behind where Kevin was, as they say, marking his territory.

She saw his body, but a bush covered up where his penis was. She was so close, she even heard the splash of his pee against the ground.

Better hurry up, she thought to herself, before he finishes.

She snuck a few steps further, crouching behind a tree of her own, and managed to raise her head just high enough to see Kevin’s midsection.

Funny thing was, however, she still couldn’t even see the head of his penis.

Just saw the shaft.

Jesus, she wondered, does he actually have a third leg?

Stepping on her tippy-toes, young Aubrey now finally saw the boy’s entire package, from the pubes that stuck out from his fly to the big fat head that looked like one of the apples they had picked earlier in the day.

She looked, and looked, and looked. His huge, thick penis looked so out of proportion compared to his skinny legs.

Kevin went on peeing for about 45 seconds, and when he was done finally tucked his penis back in his pants. He had to grab the head with one hand and actually reach into his fly and tuck it to the left side of his trousers.

He started to head back to the trail, and Aubrey followed.

“Where were you?” he asked.

“Girls have to pee too, you know,” she replied, lying that she went off the trail for such a reason. “Had to go really bad.”

“Me too. I find that I have to pee the most when – “

“Before Kevin could continue on with one of his dorky stories, Aubrey interrupted him as they began walking down the trail.

“Kevin, I was wondering,” she said. “Why aren’t you wearing shorts? I mean, it’s fucking hot out here.”

“Protects my legs from poison ivy,” he said calmly.

“Yeah, but I’m wearing really high shorts and I don’t have any poison ivy,” she said, rubbing her thigh ludely to get the attention of young Kevin.

“You’re probably lucky, I guess,” he said. “My mom told me that I should always wear – “

He was cut off again.

“Even if you got poison ivy, you can just take calamine lotion,” she said. “It’s not like poison ivy is deadly or something. It’s not like a snake bite.”

Aubrey had snakes on the mind for some reason.

“Oh, I know, it’s just – “

“Kevin, what did I tell you about drinking – keep drinking your fluids,” she demanded as they walked toward a long part of the trail that was dangerously surrounded by a cliff on one side and a steep rock face on the other.

There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

Ever the good listener, Kevin gulped down more and more water as the two headed onto the tricky part of the mountain trail.

Five minutes into it, Aubrey got her wish.

“Gotta pee again,” Kevin said.

Aubrey had built up enough nerve inside her by now, nerve that came from the knowlege of her dominance over the boy, that she made a gutsy request.

“Just go here,” she said. “It’s quicker.”

Aubrey was facing Kevin directly.

“I could jog back to the woods – it would only take me a minute – “

“Kevin, we have to hurry. Do you want to find our parents or not?”

“Well, yeah of course,” he said.

“Well, go,” she demanded.

“Alright. Well, can you at least turn around,” he said.

“God, you are such a baby,” she said, trying to get him to doubt his manhood. “Wah, wah, could you at least turn around,” she said, imitating him with a mock cry.

“Alright, fine. Don’t turn around,” he replied.

Aubrey wasn’t going to anyway, whether he liked it or not. He reached into his pants and grabbed his huge penis.

Upon pulling it out, Aubrey couldn’t help but gasp, and say “Jesus Christ” in fascination.

Pee flowed for about 20 seconds – the sight samsun escort so erotic as there was the fully-clothed Aubrey facing young Kevin, his large penis on full display for her.

She stared right at. The follow-up jiggle, as they call it, caused Kevin to shake his huge penis, only making it seem even larger, even though it remained totally flaccid.

It had finally been time for Aubrey to voice her opinion of Kevin’s anatomy.

“You’ve got a really big dick,” she said.

“Wh-what?” said Kevin, the momma’s boy whose face was now beat red with embarrassment.

“Your dick – it’s fucking huge,” Aubrey said, still staring at his crotch.

“Could you please turn around?” he asked.

Aubrey was having none of that.

“Shake it again,” she said with an amused grin.

Kevin grabbed his penis and jiggled it once more, the huge shaft flopping around like a large eel caught on a fish hook.

“You’ve got the biggest schlong I have ever seen,” she said, further complimenting him but embarrassing him at the same time.

He finally reeled in his eel and tucked it in his pants.

Eventually giving into Kevin’s request, the two headed back toward the ranger’s station. Aubrey realized she only had about an hour or so before they would reach their destination, and her chances to see Kevin’s massive penis again would be over.

“Kevin, Kevbo, the Kevmeister,” she said, trying to soften up her young, and shy, companion. “Can I ask you a personal question, and you have to swear that you will answer it.”

“I have to swear?” he said.

“Yep,” she said. “Have to swear on your mother’s name.”

“Stop with my mother – “

“Would you quit crying you momma’s boy,” she said, playfully hitting his arm. “Just swear you will answer my question.”

“Okay, okay, I swear,” he replied.

“Have you ever measured your dick?” she asked, looking right into his eyes as the two stopped.

“What kind of a question is that? I didn’t ever ask you what your bra size is,” he said.

“Answer the fucking question,” she demanded.

“No,” he said.

“Does that mean, no I’m not answering your question or no I’ve never measured my dick?” she asked.

Kevin tried to take the easy way out.

“No, I have never measured my penis,” he said.

“Fucking liar,” she said.

Kevin nervously kicked at the dirt at his feet, creating a cloud of dust.

“Why would I measure my dick?” he asked.

“Because it’s fucking huge,” she said right back to him.

“Can we not talk about this?” he asked.

“Fine, I’ll just tell all my girlfriends at school you have a real tiny weeny,” she said, walking away.

“No, no, don’t do that Aubrey, please,” he said. “I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” she asked.

“Anything,” he said.

“Alright,” she said, taking a deep sigh to make her satisfaction heard. “Measure your dick for me.”

“Will do. As soon as I get home – “

“No, not when you get home. Now,” she demanded.

“Now?” he asked.

“Yes, fucking now,” she said, growing impatient.

“Alright, turn away for a second,” he said.

“Enough with the turning away shit,” she screamed, almost creating an echoe off the nearby rock face. “Whip out your schlong.”

“No,” he argued.

“Take your dick out,” she said, walking in close to him.

“No,” he said, still thinking that showing a female his penis was a naughty thing to do.

Aubrey had had enough of this arguing, and she went up to Kevin and used a simple karate move in order to get him to the ground.

She then jumped on top of him, and his head was soon squeezed in between the the gorgeous pair of thighs he had been gazing at all afternoon.

But those thighs – strengthened so well from years of swimming – threatened to strangle Kevin if he didn’t do what the girl said.

“I am going to make this real simple Kevbo,” she said. “You are going to take your dick out, you are going to let me measure it, and from this day on you will always do as I say.”

Kevin not only gave into the girl’s orders, but enjoyed doing so.

“Yes mam,” he said.

“Now get up,” she ordered.

Kevin did so, and without hesitation pulled his huge penis out through the fly of his jeans and let it hang down while he fetched a ruler – a ruler that had absolutely no purpose earlier – from his back pack.

“Your big dick is flopping around again,” she said, letting out a girlish giggle.

Kevin brought out the ruler, which was yanked from his hands by the young Aubrey.

She took his dick in her hands and placed the ruler up to it.

Wanting to make sure her measurement was accurate, she yanked on his penis to pull it down as far as it would go.

“Ouch, that hurts,” he said.

“Shut up. I want to see just how far it hangs down,” she said.

Aubrey kept fidgeting with his penis until it dangled nearly halfway to his knees.

“Spread your legs,” she ordered.

Kevin did so, making the size of his penis emphasized even further.

Aubrey then went into the boy’s backpack, and took out a camera.

“Hold that pose,” she said.

“But Aubrey, this is kind of embarrassing. What if someone – “

Before he could finish talking, camera flashes started going off, as the young girl wanted to fill her role of film with shots much more interesting than trees and mountains.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

All the characters in this story are above 18. Also, this is the first story in the series. Thank you and I hope you will enjoy it. So see you soon and keep reading my stories.

———————————-

It was one fine day; cloudy but still sunny, at least till I reached my high school when suddenly winds started blowing, clouds started gathering and the rain started pouring.

I and my classmates were lucky enough to get inside the building on time and out of the stormy rains with mini cyclones that used to form on our jr. college ground, because of the vast open landmass of saltpans behind it, from where the wind used to blow.

Anyway, we were lucky, but not our classroom teacher Miss Ruchi/Runa, as her car broke down on the way. Well her car broke down just around the corner of the road to our jr. college, so after calling her mechanic she started walking towards the main gate and as I said earlier the climate changed suddenly.

when she reached near the gate the rain started pouring and those mini cyclones started forming. Well, what to say, her fate was not with her and thus, she got caught in them and ended up getting fully drenched from head to toe.

But, it not just stopped here because when she finally made it inside, she decided to go to the staffroom first and get changed. But, to her misfortune, there were no spares in her locker as she had already used them a week ago and forgot to replace them.

Then, she went to other teachers but, again got nothing as they were also either out of spares or not of her sizes. So, finally, she came to the classroom and by that time, water had stopped dripping from her saree which was fully soaked.

Also, she was wearing a cotton saree that was now stuck to her body very closely accentuating her curvy figure and even though not intentionally but was still arousing us and not only just the boys but the girls too.

Okay. So, before going ahead let me describe Miss Runa, at 28 she had four years of experience in teaching after graduating with a bachelor’s degree in English and Economics.

And at 4’11” with 50kg in weight and 34-28-36 figure, she was the shortest and cutest among all the teachers. She also used to look much younger and more like a student rather than a teacher.

Anyway, here she was standing in front of her desk, thinking, what to do after telling us how she got in this situation, while we boys had our hands busy trying to hide the state of our arousal. When suddenly Madam Principal who was on her daily round stepped inside our classroom and everybody of us stood up to greet her.

This sudden move caused Miss Runa to jump on her place as she too greeted the Madam Principal; as she got back to her senses.

Then with her hand gesture, we all sat down while she asked Miss Runa to explain herself, that too in a piercing kütahya escort voice. But, due to fear, Miss Runa didn’t speak a word and only on asking again why was she being naughty by showing her curves to her students, finally noticing now; what her saree did to her.

She, finally with courage spoke up and explained Madam Principal’s all her story. “and…and, I don’t know what to do,” she said.

“But I do,” said Madam Principal and ordered Miss Runa to follow her.

So after they went we started talking even though the monitor has appointed to mind the class.

While they went to the back of the staffroom where Madam Principal opened a box filled with spares of school uniforms of both boys and girls. From those, she removed one in Miss Runa’s size and giving it to her, “quickly, now get dressed and get back to your class.” she said, “I’ll be coming again.”

About, 10 minutes later a girl enters our class who was wearing the same uniform as others, but the hem of her pinafore was shorter than the girls’. Also, at first, we thought, she was someone new from another class of our grade and had come to ask for chalk or something.

But, on closer look, we got shocked as she was none other than Miss Runa, our classroom teacher or should I say Runa, our classmate. As soon as we noticed her, girls got up from their seats and surrounded her blocking our boy’s view. Finally, after brief minutes of commotion, she orders all girls to seat down and she too went behind her desk.

After everyone was seated she began with the roll call, initially, we were caught up in our gossips so didn’t pay any attention at her. But, soon the roll call started and OMGs started coming from our mouths along with present miss or yes miss.

First, she didn’t pay any attention to those and kept to with the work at her hand, then halfway through the roll call, she looked up at us and noticed something had caught our attention and on further realization, she noticed it was her shaven pussy, which she was giving a clear view off to all of us and quickly close her legs which were still now widely open.

At first, it was not intentional, but habitual as she forgot she was not wearing her saree, which used to cover everything and her fair face started to become red with embarrassment as ashamed she felt partly from her own mistake and partly from the comments which were now coming like a tsunami at her.

At that time someone others should have run away, but not her as she decided to take the situation in her hand, “but how?” she thought And a second later she did something that surprised us all.

She again widely opened her legs as they were before and asked,” do you all like what we see?” and the girls started calling her shameless and other names.

“yep, I am shameless, because my motto manisa escort is; be shameless, be always happy, so go ahead and gawk at my pussy,” she said and the class went silent.

Anyway, after the class got silent she again stared with the roll call while asking us to look at her pussy after calling our names… saying, ” Hey, Mako look at my pussy, come, Mruko look at my pussy, look, Roko look at my pussy, come, sidga look at my pussy.” and so on.

And even though we’re shocked, we too started answering, yes miss or present miss looking at her pussy and while it was happening Madam Principal stood up again in the door as she heard what we said.

She had come to see how the things were going but, what she saw and heard were beyond her beliefs and thus, walking to Miss Runa, who was now standing at her desk, she pulled off her pinafore, leaving her with only a shirt on the top and nothing on the bottom.

This caused Miss Runa to shriek and cover her pussy using her hands but was ordered to remove them by Madam Principal as “why hide when you want to be Miss shameless, answer me Miss Nagde(naked); Miss Ruchi Nagde(miss interest naked).” in an anguished tone, she said.

This made us students jump in our seats in shock, as we got to know her last name for the first time in those three years she was teaching us. Then Madam Principal took the pinafore and started walking towards the backbench where sidga was sitting and taking a seat next to him told Miss Runa to start the class.

So, finally seeing no option, she gathered her shattered courage and removed her hands giving us all a clear unobstructed view of her pussy and a tattoo above it, which was of two, intertwined letters D and A with angel’s wings and devil’s horns. Also, her shirt was semi-transparent and so one could easily make out the shape of her firm 34C breasts. Also, she had left the top two buttons open and was not even wearing a tie.

So, here she was standing in front of her class full of teens with raging hormones and almost wearing nothing, with her glasses and 6inch heels and her wet raven hair let open to dry, she was now looking slutty or so I thought, escalating the atmosphere from mild to hot.

She then took her book and started teaching by reading and explaining a poem while leaning back on the desk such that only her butt was touching the desk. About 15 minutes went like this when she turned back to write some points on the green board and the second wave of OMGs fascinated by her round and proportionate butt started flooding.

Thus, Miss Runa turning back and looking at us, gave just a smile and continued with her teaching till the bell rang and Madam Principal started walking towards her and giving back her pinafore with a spank finally left the classroom, but not before saying that she will be mardin escort observing her.

Thus, feeling relief, Miss Runa, quickly put on the pinafore which came short on her long and slender legs, about 5inches above the knee, then picking up her bag and books she went for her next class dressed as a cute schoolgirl again, maybe a little bit slutty with the short skirt and the shirt with top two buttons open showing a fair amount of cleavage.

After that, the rest of the day seems like a very long one as the lectures after that felt very boring till she came back for the last lecture followed by Madam principal who closed the door behind her. But, this time she was carrying some clothes with her which were no doubt was Miss Runa’s saree with her blouse, underskirt, bra, and panties.

Then facing Miss Ruchi and looking in her eyes, “Miss Nagde (naked) or should I say Miss Shameless, you thought your punishment is over but, I am sorry because it’s not. So, quick strip out of that schoolgirl uniform and get as naked as your last name, before I pulled them off myself.” She said while keeping the saree on Miss Runa’s desk.

Not wanting to get her courage shattered again, Miss Runa quickly strip off the schoolgirl uniform and giving it to Madam principal stood as naked as her last name, showing full of interest in being naked.

Then as Madam Principal went back to sit next to sidga again Miss Ruma came in front of the desk tying her hair in a high pony and adjusting her glasses started with the roll call again as it was taken in every lecture because of some of the students used to bunk the classes.

Anyway, she took the roll call again by adding ‘look at my body’ after our names and we too answer but, this time instead of yes Miss or present Miss we decided to tease her by using yes Ruchi, present Ruchi, yes Nagde and present Nagde while looking at her firm round breasts with brown nipples, navel piercing, and shaven pussy.

So after finishing the roll call she opened her book and started with our economics lecture by reading and explaining the theory of diminishing marginal utility; at first only verbally while leaning back on her desk as before but, then turning back and walking up to the green board to draw the diagram.

And, we again got awestruck, this time not because of her butt, but because of the red; devil’s tail tattoo emerging from her tailbone in the shape of infinity as another wave of OMGs flooded the classroom. Thus, making her turn to give only a smile with a wink this time, before continuing with the teaching till the end bell rang.

As the bell rang Madam President coming up in front of the class, “based on my observations and reviews I got from you and other students I have decided to make schoolgirl uniform compulsory for Miss Runa, every Friday in the future; as it was Friday that day.

She then left for her work leaving the door wide open to let anyone passing by, gawk at Miss Runa in all her naked glory. But, we were too, quick enough to cover her until she wore back her saree and leave the classroom with some of us following her while some walking ahead of her.

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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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My husband, Martin, and I are sexually adventurous and I smiled at the exploits we had enjoyed over the previous couple of days.

I had earlier challenged Martin to have all his body hair removed by waxing at a beauty salon where I knew he would be ‘looked after’.

The beautician who would do the waxing was Helen, a twenty year old, stunningly attractive blonde who had performed exquisite oral sex on me after waxing my pubic hairs to a complete Brazilian.

I was aroused, she sensed it and we realised we are both bisexual. I need no encouragement to go back to Helen regularly to keep myself completely smooth.

Martin had suffered some discomfort, especially the ‘back, sac and crack’ bit, but Helen had then climbed on top of his thick, stiff prick and ridden him for twenty minutes. She teased him by slowing and then quickening her riding action until Martin exploded his spunk into her.

Martin’s challenge to me had taken place the previous Saturday.

We had travelled by train to Marylebone Station in London and checked into the large hotel right across from the station. We had a large room on the second floor overlooking the busy main road.

I stood in front of the large window and could look directly at the passengers on the top deck of the red London buses. Martin stood behind me and undressed me, displaying me to various sets mersin escort of passing passengers.

All had noticed me and the last lot had seen me orgasm as Martin stood behind me, caressed my nipples with one hand and fingered my sopping cunt with the other.

As we had planned, Martin tied me spread-eagled on the bed with lengths of soft cord we had brought. I was blindfolded with an airline style mask over which Martin tied a black silk scarf. I could see absolutely nothing.

All I was wearing was black hold-ups. My legs were held so far apart I could feel the strain at the top of my thighs — just the way I like to be tied. My hairless cunt was stretched open.

Martin teased me by licking me for about thirty minutes. He is very good at bringing me close to orgasm then slowing and backing off leaving me just on the edge of coming. He can do this time after time, causing me to buck my hips in frustration and to shout at him demanding that he makes me come.

He then calmly called room service and requested a bottle of Chablis, an ice bucket and two glasses. He then got back to licking me. The anticipation of who would bring the wine and see me spread open was delightfully arousing.

When there was a knock on the door, Martin placed the small hand towel from the bathroom across my hips and thighs muğla escort but left my breasts exposed.

The cords tying me to the bed were visible as was the fact that I was blindfolded.

I heard Martin asking the waiter to put the bottle by the window, thereby ensuring that he or she would walk right the way across the room. The staff member must have seen me and I heard Martin say “I have been teasing her for thirty minutes and she would rather like to come, wouldn’t you darling?”

I responded as we had agreed: “I don’t know who you are but I am desperate to come — this bastard has been teasing me for ages and I would like you to finish me off”

The towel was removed and I felt someone sit on the bed next to me. Then I felt Martin resume his position between my legs and to start flicking my clitoris with his tongue.

I moaned and tried to move so I got more pressure on my clit but Martin just moved away. I felt the stranger’s hand on my breasts, rolling my erect nipples through their fingers. The stranger spoke — a deep male voice with a French accent.

He asked Martin if he could fuck me. Martin said “Of course you may, with a condom” I listened as I heard the stranger undress and heard Martin open the condom wrapper.

The stranger kissed me passionately then stopped and positioned himself above nevşehir escort me, taking his weight on his arms and knees.

The only contact with me was then the end of his cock nudging at my cunt lips. Martin must have assisted as the next thing I felt was the stranger’s cock driving into me, filling me and stretching me.

He was big and he knew how to use his dick. He pistoned into me, mixing deep thrusts with shallow ones. On the deep ones, I felt his wiry pubic hair against my bald mound.

On the shallow strokes, he almost withdrew his cock and teased my clitoris with the glans of his dick. Then he would drive his tool slowly right into me, filling me again.

I lasted about two minutes before he drove me to a wracking orgasm during which I writhed against my bonds. He carried on fucking me. Wave after wave of orgasm swept over me, almost merging one into another to a continuous crescendo of pleasure.

Martin pinched my nipples hard which he knows I love. The stranger had tremendous stamina and just carried on. I cried out loudly: “Come inside me. Fill me with your spunk” I felt him shudder and his prick grew even larger as he finally emptied his balls and stopped, still inside me.

Even then he did not collapse onto me but withdrew his softening cock and climbed off the bed. He dressed, explaining to Martin that he had to get back to work.

Martin thanked him and let him out of the room. He then untied me and removed my blindfold and we lay on the bed, entwined and kissing. Martin fucked me slowly and gently, telling me that seeing me screwed by the waiter like that was the horniest experience of his life.

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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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Rina was driving back to the same isolated area where she’d had the adventure with the gel pack battery and electromagnet. This time, she expected her self bondage session to be less strenuous, and of shorter duration. But what she had in mind was still exciting, because she’d be doing it outdoors once again.

Her excitement was manifest by the fact that she had the foresight to fold up the towel and place it under herself as she sat in the driver’s seat. A silky red set of bra and panties were on the backseat of the car. Rina didn’t expect to need them at all. They were merely there as a precaution.

Her 38D breasts, unrestrained inside of her blouse, swayed and jiggled with each bounce of the car on the road. This caused her nipples to rub and rub against the soft material of her blouse. That delightfully maddening friction increased her arousal, and her pussy was lubricating well in response. This might have ruined her skirt, but she’d hiked her skirt up around her waist as she drove, thereby letting her leaking pussy make direct contact with the towel beneath her.

She had her car windows closed, and the aroma of her cunt juices permeated the air around her. As she inhaled her scent, it acted like a positive feedback loop, increasing her arousal, which, of course, made her lubricate even more. By the time she neared her destination, she feared she might’ve needed to have two towels under her, rather than one. She certainly would need to take a long drink of water to replenish the fluids her body had generated and lost into the towel.

Using her cars off-road capabilities as before, she pulled in to a similar secluded location. She drank a good bit of water, as she’d promised herself. With a hair tie, she pulled her dark brown hair into a neat ponytail, before climbing out of her car.

Should she strip off here at the car? Or wait until she got to the meadow? Walking all the way there naked still seemed so naughty a thing to do. But she’d been naked the last time, and she had to admit, although it felt strange at first, it became quite natural after a very short period of time. She suspected she had a healthy streak of exhibitionism, but was loath to admit that to herself yet. She rationalized it, though. “If I leave my clothes here at the car, that’s one less thing to carry,” she told herself.

Indeed, she found that stripping ‘in public’ was much easier this time. Unlike the last time, this time she pulled off her skirt first, yanking it down. A stray breeze washed over her damp sex, evaporating some of her juices, and giving the tissues there a cool ‘kiss’ sensation. Playfully, she pressed her labia open, and let the air play with her entire vulva. What a glorious feeling!

Her hands went to her blouse, unbuttoning it down her front. She imagined being on some stage, opening her blouse before a group of men whose eyes were riveted to her chest. When the blouse was fully unbuttoned, she playfully flipped one side off her tit, and then flipped it back, as if teasing her onlookers. She blushed as she realized that she enjoyed that image, and wished she had enough courage to really do such a thing. “Yeah, yeah – I’m just a big chicken,” she berated herself gently. Sighing, she slipped off the blouse, and placed her clothes in the car’s trunk.

As she’d done before, she applied insect repellent to her exposed skin. She was happy how well this stuff worked. Not even a mosquito bite last time. Reaching back into the trunk, she pulled out a medium-sized metal cooler, along with a small cloth bag. Locking up the car, she put the car keys on top of the rear tire on the driver’s side, just like last time.

She started her stroll to the meadow, almost bouncing with happiness and anticipation. There was something extra special about performing self bondage outdoors. She didn’t know why she’d waited this long to try it. She noticed that there was more of a breeze today, and the sky was overcast, even though it was still nice and warm. The breeze made her skin rise up in goosebumps. Her nipples couldn’t be mistaken for goosebumps, but they expanded, poking forward in an amazing fashion. Both her hands were busy carrying things, or she’d have been playing with them.

After a few more steps, though, she thought to herself, “Hey! Am I in a rush or something? My nipples feel like they could pop, they’re so swollen!” With that, she set down the cooler and the bag and stood, playing with her nipples for a while. It felt wonderful to pinch them and tug them, and soon her hips were making gentle bucking motions as she squirmed. Once again, rationalization sprang up. “I won’t be able to make myself cum for hours, in a few minutes. Why waste this opportunity?”

Still playing with her tits with one hand, she used her other to probe her cunt, pulling out her sticky liquids, and smearing them on her labia edges and clit. Looking around instinctively, she even smeared some juice on her butt hole, and teased that forbidden opening with her wet finger. As her arousal built, she caressed kuşadası escort all of her generous tit flesh, as well as her tummy, mound, and thighs, still fingering her cunt. Finally, she jammed three fingers into her hot, greedy tunnel, while polishing her clit rapidly with a finger of her other hand! The resultant orgasm turned her knees to jelly, and she sank down onto the grass, shaking and panting with pleasure waves.

As she got back up onto her shaky legs, she murmured, “Being naked outdoors is making me even more horny than usual. Must be all this fresh air.” She took an extra deep breath, and her tits rose as her chest expanded. “Down girls,” she giggled.

At the meadow, she saw what she’d noticed during her previous excursion. Near its edge was a smooth wooden railing or fence. She had no idea why it was there, but its height appeared to be ideal for her purpose.

She went to the far end, and leaned over the wooden crossbar. Years of yoga practice had made Rina supple. She could easily bend over with her legs straight and press her palms to the floor in her home. Here, bending over the railing, she found that it pressed right across her lower abdomen, and her wrists easily grasped her ankles. Perfect. It might have been specially built for a person of her height.

Opening the cooler, she pulled out a block of ice with a very sturdy string hanging out of it. That string was tightly secured to a handcuff key, which was embedded in the center of the ice block. She tied the string to the railing, with the ice hanging just above the low grass. Again she bent herself over the railing, verifying that the height of the ice was where she’d want it.

Leaving the cooler off to the side, she took the cloth bag back to the other end of the railing. From that bag she pulled out not one, but two sets of handcuffs, and her trusty brad nail. She stooped down and carefully ratcheted the cuffs to a fit that was snug, but not tight, one on each ankle, and double locked them with the brad.

Relishing the moment, she paused and looked at the railing, the ice, the meadow, and the woods surrounding the meadow. The breeze flipped her ponytail around, making it brush sensuously against the nape of her neck. That same current of air even ruffled the short brown pubic hairs that adorned her mound. After several deep breaths, she was ready.

Rina folded herself over the railing again. Leaning down, she attached the cuff at her left ankle to her left wrist. The moment she did that, she was committed to this adventure. A frisson of delight coursed through her body. Getting more excited, she secured her right wrist to the cuff on her right ankle. For safety, she double locked them with the brad as well.

Now she was stuck like this until the ice melted.

Not only that, she’d have to work her way laboriously down the railing, inch by inch, shuffling along, to reach it. This would certainly take hours.

At first, she just rested where she was, enjoying the feeling of being restrained like this. In a mental image, she saw her bare ass, thighs, and shapely calves exposed on one side of the railing. On the other, her tits were pressed against her knees as she stared at her shins. Her ponytail dangled off the back of her head, nearly touching the grass. The railing actually gave her some support, so she doubted that her muscles would fatigue very much.

Turning her head, she looked at the block of ice. From this distance, she couldn’t tell if it was even starting to drip yet. Similar blocks of ice, in the past, had taken about 4 hours to melt fully, so she was in no rush to start moving toward it.

After perhaps 10 minutes of her confinement, her mind started the typical ‘what if’ and ‘worst case’ scenarios that made self bondage such a thrill for Rina. Of course, there was the thought, “What if someone stumbles upon my car? Will they find the keys? Drive off with it? Or, what is more likely, will they start calling out and searching for the driver?” The last time, none of that had happened, so these thoughts were less intrusive than they’d been. She trusted that the car would be unmolested. She relaxed as much as she could.

Five minutes later, the sun briefly broke through the cloud cover, and shone brightly on her ass cheeks. She’d neglected to put on any sun block, and sincerely hoped she wouldn’t end up with a sunburn on her exposed butt and sex region. That might be difficult to explain. The clouds churned and returned, so the perceived heat of the sun was only apparent during brief gaps in the cloud cover. But Rina knew that exposed skin could even receive a burn through cloud cover, anyway. Yet another thing she’d have to take into account during future outdoor sessions.

About fifteen minutes later, she mumbled, “Oh drat! I was going to call Suzie and tell her what I was doing, and where, with the idea to come and look for me if she hadn’t heard from me in… let’s say eight hours. But I forgot! And my phone is now locked kocaeli escort in the car. I hope I don’t regret neglecting to do that. Her heart started thumping hard, imagining being stuck like this. She had to breathe faster, lest she get dizzy. She forced herself to calm down. The ice block ‘timer’ had never failed her before.

To escape these worries, Rina went into a special state of mind. She’d heard of submissives entering something often called ‘subspace’ when having a session with their Masters, but she didn’t know if that was what she did during her self bondage sessions. Perhaps her mind was going into an alpha state – conscious but unfocused – when she lapsed into this mindset. It was better than fretting about something going wrong, and her being trapped like this, and ultimately being discovered.

Being discovered. That triggered a whole new type of reverie. With her very healthy libido, Rina often fantasized that her restraints were due to the actions of captors. They might be pirates, or robbers, or men that kidnapped women and enslaved them – really, any sort of lusty males. And of course these males had sex on their minds. Sex with her, as she was rendered helpless and vulnerable.

Rina seized on this mental scenario now. Maybe the men were outlaw desperadoes, and they’d robbed a train or a stagecoach. Finding a delectable female traveling alone, they’d grabbed her, and taken her away with them. This railing might be a hitching post outside their cabin, and they’d secured her there until they played cards to see who won the right to be the first to use her sexually. She could beg them… plead with them… to let her go, but their lust would have to be satisfied.

Rina was so ‘into’ this visualization that her pussy was now lubricating like mad. Its juices anointed her thighs, evaporating in the soft breezes. Even with her head down by her shins, she could smell that aroma. That scent, wafting into her nostrils, triggered areas of her brain. Primitive areas. Areas devoted to passion and reproduction. Her hands grasped her ankles right next to where the handcuffs encircled them. The chain on the cuffs jangled slightly as Rina tightened her grip, and pressed her thighs together firmly.

While this was going on, Dave wandered into the far side of the meadow. He wasn’t expecting his friends to be there yet, waiting for him, since he’d come quite early. He enjoyed the peaceful solitude of that meadow, and wanted to have some quiet time before they arrived. He scanned the open space for any evidence that they’d shown up uncharacteristically early. He didn’t see his friends, but his masculine eyes discerned the partial shape of a woman. The shape of a woman from her buttocks to her heels. Correction. The naked shape of a woman from her buttocks to her heels.

Dave was incredulous. This was something a guy dreams about happening, but never really expects it to actually happen. He blushed, and averted his gaze for a moment, trying to be a gentleman. But, being a man, he had to look again. He stared. “Yep, she’s naked from the waist down,” his brain confirmed. He noticed a glint of metal, down by her ankles. “What the hell is that?” he asked himself.

He’d been frozen in place, stupefied during all this. But then he thought, “Why isn’t she moving? Why is she bent over like that? Is she in trouble?” Mentally donning his ‘white knight’ outfit, he moved toward her, quietly, hoping not to startle her.

As he got closer, to his amazement, he could tell that the metallic flash had come from handcuffs – handcuffs around her wrists and ankles. She was trapped on that railing. He swallowed hard, and said with his softest, most soothing voice, “Miss, I don’t mean to startle you, but are you all right?”

She startled. Her leg muscles contracted, pushing her up onto her toes. Her ass muscles performed a mesmerizing rhythmic, rippling set of contractions. “Oh fuck!” Rina exclaimed. “Who’s there?” Her heart leaped into her throat as it accelerated. It had no difficulty doing this, since gravity was tugging it that direction anyway.

“Ummm. My name’s Dave, Miss. Ummm… who did this to you?” he asked curiously.

Rina’s face and neck, already red from blood pooling there from her pose, flushed a rather deep shade of purple, as the restrained woman tried to figure out how to answer that. Ultimately, she decided that the simple truth was best. “I did,” she admitted.

As she was answering, Dave had walked around the end of the railing to see the rest of her. He was pleased to see that the top half of her was as naked as the bottom half. He was delighted to see those glorious tits of hers, which drew his eyes like a magnet. As he restated, “You did?” with a questioning tone of voice, Rina turned her head, to face where his sound was coming from.

She was mortified to see him ogling her nude, vulnerable form. But as his eyes left her breasts to look into her face, she was relieved to see a pleasant looking young man, whose expression konya escort was one of concern for her. She thought to herself, “If I had to be discovered by anyone, this might just be the best guy to do so. He looks really nice.” While she had eye contact, she stated, “My name’s Rina, Dave.”

To allay Dave’s look of concern, Rina launched into what she hoped was a lucid explanation of self bondage, and tried to give him some concept of why she had these needs. She was pleased that he sat down on the grass where he was, listening carefully. When she finished, he didn’t berate her at all, just nodded his understanding of what she’d said. “He’s a good listener, too,” she judged. “I like him even more. I wonder how he’ll respond to a gentle prodding.”

“I realize how naughty this looks,” she said, smiling at him. She even winked.

Catching on, Dave said, “So you know how naughty you are, huh? Do you think this deserves a spanking?”

She swallowed hard, which was difficult, being upside down. But her libido demanded that she feel his touch. Her inner slut sent shock waves to her tits and cunt, crying out for attention.

“Yes, Sir. I think this naughty slut deserves a spanking for disturbing your day like this.”

“I must admit that it did disturb my day,” he responded. “But only in a good, fantastically good way. I wish that every day I’d encounter disturbances like this.” He grinned impishly. “However, far be it from me to deny you the spanking that you deserve.” He got up, and moved out of sight behind her.

Rina knew he was behind her now. She knew he was staring at her naked ass. She bit her lip as the thought occurred that he might even be able to see her pussy. Maybe her puffy labia lining her slit. Maybe her fluids, weeping out of that slit. She was both humiliated and very, very turned on. She waited an eternity for that first swat from his hand on her bare flesh. She was wondering if he’d reconsidered – decided that he couldn’t take advantage of her helplessness. She was beginning to feel disappointment.

Therefore, the shock of his first spank actually caught her by surprise. The ‘whap’ sound came to her ears simultaneously with the bright sensation of pain being reported by her right ass cheek. “Ow!” she cried out, without thinking, as her body jerked involuntarily.

“Sorry,” he said from behind her. “Too harsh?”

She’d only cried out like that from the surprise. She didn’t want to discourage him, though. The warmth from his swat was spreading through her body, and a lot of the sensation seemed destined for her cunt and tits. “No, Sir,” she replied quickly. “This naughty slut needs that, and more. If it gets to be too much, I’ll say your name, Dave. OK?”

He scratched his chin, considering. “OK, if you say so… slut.” His open palm cracked against her left ass cheek this time. She gasped loudly, for two reasons. First, the mild pain was lighting up her cunt and tits, making them engorge with hot blood and get even more sensitive. And second, she loved the way he used the word ‘slut’ when referring to her. He’d clued in on her suggestion.

For the next several minutes, Dave alternated between spanking Rina’s ass, and rubbing his hand sensuously over her sensitized skin. From her breathing, gasps, and other sounds, plus the extra wetness streaming down her thighs, and the scent emanating from it, he was pretty sure she was getting more and more aroused from his actions. It was certainly turning him on – his dick felt like a steel rod inside his pants. He decided he wanted to ask her a question.

With his ass gently gliding over her reddened ass cheeks, he said, “Tell me something, Rina, and please be very honest with me, OK? Have you ever fantasized about being used when you were bound?”

Her eyelids flew up, hearing his question. “Ummm… by ‘used’ do you mean sexually?”

Now it was Dave’s turn to blush, hearing her ask that so directly. He cleared his throat, nervously. “Y… y… yes. That’s what I mean.”

“To be honest, Dave, yes. Yes I have. It’s actually a recurring fantasy of mine.”

Dave found that he was having trouble breathing now. “Would you… would you like that fantasy to come true, Rina? Right now?”

Rina’s inner slut was jumping for joy. She slowed her breathing, since her body was trying to hyperventilate from excitement. “Yes,” she choked out. “Oh my god, yes. I want it to come true. Make it come true, Dave.”

His hand slid down her ass crack, across her butt hole, and touched the edges of her puffy pussy lips, that were protruding from between Rina’s thighs. In response, she moved her knees apart, widening the gap between her thighs invitingly. When his fingertip slid into the wet slit between those pussy lips, Rina groaned, “Oooo, yes! Fuck yes! Yes, yes, yes! That feels amazing! More, please – more!”

Dave knelt down, and slid his finger into the hot wet tunnel of her pussy. One finger wasn’t enough. He quickly inserted a second finger, and began sliding them back and forth inside her. Rina thought she was in heaven, but she had no idea what heaven really was. Because moments later, she felt Dave’s lips kissing and sucking on her labia between his inserted fingers and her mound. Suddenly ‘heaven’ took on a whole new meaning. She tried hard to hold herself still for him.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

My wife and I live in Phoenix, Arizona. Yes, we know. We have heard ALL of the jokes about living here. Like, it’s a dry heat, much like a bon fire. Or do you guys live on the sun? Maybe. Quite possibly. Valets parking cars have been known to complain how at the end of their eight hour shifts, their shoes have come apart at the seams, standing on the blacktop all day. So, we cope by taking daily showers. Okay, four showers a day with the water stone cold would be much more accurate, but we do cope. The bright side? No matter how high the temperature climbs, we do NOT have to scoop it, as in snow shovels have become extinct here. I did see one though as a child, in a museum, so I know what they look like.

My wife and I have the good fortunes to have jobs where we have our week-ends off together. On one such Saturday morning, we leisurely got up at nine in the morning and each of us had a bagel with our morning coffee.

“What would you like to do this morning, if anything?” I asked my wife Angie.

“I woke up this morning feeling kind of randy. I could be in the mood to go to the mall and play a few games,” she answered with an enthusiastic smile.

“Anything special?” I asked as she immediately had piqued my interest.

“Yes, I wanted to get a new pair of shoes and then maybe a blouse or two.”

I smiled. We had played this game a time or two before and it always led to wild, passionate sex. I don’t mind sharing my wife, up to a point. First of all, let me say that Angie and I take care of our bodies We eat right and try to make it to the gym twice a week. Angie is twenty-four, and I am twenty-six. We have been married for almost three years now. We met in college and married after she graduated.

Now, about Angie. She is five foot, seven inches tall with legs that go on forever. She has dark brunette hair with matching chestnut brown eyes. So as not to keep you guessing, she wears a 38 DD bra when she wears one at all. They are perky enough so that if you would put a pen or pencil under her breasts, it would fall directly to the floor. Gravity had not yet touched her ample bosom with hard, full nipples and light pink areolas. It should be mentioned in passing that her breasts and nipples demand a lot of attention. If I fail to play with them for a single day, she asks if I am mad at her.

We are totally in love and several years ago, when we first began our ‘games’, she wanted me to know that she would only play them with my permission and when I was with her. She said she didn’t feel safe doing it on her own, as I tokat escort was always there to protect her if some horny guy wanted to take it to the next level.

This morning she took an abbreviated shower, and quickly dressed, allowing me to shower and shave as well. With no winters to speak of in Phoenix, your closet pretty much consists of summer clothes. While I quickly dressed, my wife had put on a beige dress. It was low cut in the front with no bra. She never wore a bra unless she was going to work. When she bent over in front of someone, you could see everything but the nipples. Her dress came to about a foot-and-a-half above her knee.

With both of us dressed, we headed for the mall which of course opened at 10 a.m. Angie headed for a shoe store where she had noticed a cute clerk waiting for business. We entered the store.

“Good morning to you both. If there is something special I can help you find, just let me know!” he said with a smile. As far as he was concerned, I was invisible. Didn’t exist. Couldn’t even see me. He instead, couldn’t take his eyes off her chest.

“There is something, actually. You have a red stiletto shoe in the window. I would like to try them on,” she said through her smiling lips.

“Do you know your size?”

“I usually take an eight, but various brands run differently. Why don’t you bring me a few to try?”

He disappeared into the back of the store and re-emerged later with six boxes. He wanted to make his first sale of the morning and he wanted to please. My wife sat down in the chair and hiked up her dress when he wasn’t looking. Angie had dealings with this guy before. He would sit down on his little stool in front of female customers. You know the kind I mean. They slope up at an angle toward his crotch allowing you to easily put on the shoes.

However, like all men on the planet that are not gay, he would try to sneak a peek at a woman’s panties by pushing his stool up close to the chair they were sitting in. It worked every time. Angie knew this and decided to toy with him.

He tried the first pair of shoes on her but they were too small. As he reached down into the second box of shoes, she readjusted her dress. When she lifted her foot he put the shoe on his foot and almost had a heart attack. When she lifted her foot he had a perfect shot of her crotch. She wasn’t wearing any panties! She spread her legs apart, pretending to look at the shoe on her foot from all possible angles.

This only caused the lips of her pussy to pull apart and she could feel yozgat escort it when it did. She trimmed her pussy only leaving a shadow of her hair. The shoe clerk could see everything but her clit. She asked to try on the other shoe, stood up and walked around.

“I’ll take them!” she said, giving the clerk a chance to catch his breath. My wife and I laughed as we walked down the mall to the nearest clothing store. “I gave him an erection!” she said, obviously pleased with herself.

“Funny, I noticed the same thing,” I said as we walked together.

“Next stop, I need to try on some new blouses.”

“Lead the way,” I said eagerly.

We came to a national brand store and we each began looking for blouses for her to try on. Angie quickly dismissed the modest ones, the ones that button up clear to your neck. She did prefer the ones that buttoned rather than the pullovers. That way she could unbutton as many buttons as she was in the mood for, and turn the guys on with them always hoping to see just a bit more.

It was getting onto to noon, and the mall was filling up. Mostly female shoppers but a few men as well, being dragged along by their wives. Most of them wore expressions like they had just finished running a 50K run and just wanted to go home.

Angie and I picked out four new blouses for her to try on. As I looked around, only one other male was waiting by the changing room, waiting on his wife to come out and show him something or other.

My wife came out in a flowered print with half sleeves that buttoned.

“What do you think?” she asked as she slowly turned around for my appraisal. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw this other male obviously staring at her. She is a knock-out and could easily grace the cover of any porno magazine.

“It’s okay.” I said, “But let me see the other ones before I make a decision.”

“Okay,” she said and went back and shut the door.

“You got dragged out here too, I see,” I said, striking up a conversation with the only male within a hundred yards of the dressing room.

He was forty something with premature balding and a stomach that hinted at one too many donuts in the morning. I learned that he had been married for over twenty years and had three kids. He volunteered that they were being watched by a neighbor so they could shop in peace. His wife came out and modeled a pair of jeans for her husband. He said they looked fine and she disappeared behind the door.

His wife showed signs of gray in her hair, and looked like she took a size zonguldak escort 22W jeans. The poor fellow really looked like his best sexual days were behind him. The only light in his eyes came on when my wife emerged with a different blouse on. He obviously admires my wife’s looks. I couldn’t blame him. Put the two wives together and there was no contest. It made me wonder what we will look like in twenty years with a few rug rats running around.

Angie came out wearing a red blouse with mini dots in white all over it. It looked cute on her and I told her so. She quickly changed into a white see-through blouse that hugged her like a second skin. Both the other guy and myself both gave my wife the thumbs up.

“Okay, last one,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”

I waited patiently while she tried on the last blouse. The other fellow’s wife came out to show him a new blouse. He tried to muster up some enthusiasm so she would choose something and he could go home. His wife disappeared after saying she was going to purchase her blouse and the jeans. Then, drum roll here please, Angie came out.

She was wearing a pale lavender blouse which was totally sheer! If she had been topless, you probably couldn’t have noticed the difference. She unashamedly modeled it for me and the stranger next to me. Then she put her hands behind her head, lifting up her breasts in invitation to me. I thought she might have picked out a size too small, because her erect nipples were straining against the fabric, bursting to be free! It looked way more like something you would wear on your honeymoon night, in the privacy of your bedroom than a blouse to wear out of the house.

“Well, what’s the verdict? You like what you see?”

“Oh my god, yes. I love it! Wait, what do you think?” I asked the guy next to me.

The poor guy seemed to be tongue tied. You could see it was taking all his will power not to reach out and grab her tits.

“Yes, definitely, Yes!” he stammered.

“Thanks for your honesty, both of you,” she said. She stood there for a moment more, letting us take in the full effect of her swollen breasts. She did absolutely nothing to cover herself. She disappeared back into the dressing room and decided on the see-through white blouse and the sheer one.

The others guys wife came out and he followed her to the check out counter. He turned to me and whispered, “You are one lucky son-of-a-gun!” with this huge smile on his face. Then my wife joined me.

“So, how was the show?” she asked.

“A fantastic matinee! Let’s check out and go home and you can model the sheer one again, just before I jump your bones!”

“Can’t wait,” was her answer. “I am so wet I can’t stand it. I hope you are up for a marathon session in bed.”

“Try me!” I said as we made out way out of the mall.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

She knocks twice, then twice again and calls out “Hello, room service!” just like she has learnt during her half-day of training for this job. She has learnt to say “yes”, “right away”, “of course” and “not a problem”, followed by “sir” or “ma’am”, and she has mastered the art of being unfailingly friendly and polite even when she doesn’t know exactly what a guest really wants from her.

Luckily, body language is pretty much universal. It helps a lot.

Her job is simple but satisfying. This hotel is in the sweet spot between being too big and too small, between being too busy and being deserted, between being so cheap that it attracts slobs and encourages vandalism, and so expensive that the guests are entitled snobs who take everyone and everything for granted and never honestly say ‘thank you’. The pay is decent, the benefits are fair, and there is always enough to do. Bad days here usually consist of cleaning the toilet of a guest with bad aim and sitting through yet another meeting on why worker’s unions are the literal antichrist. That is all.

The guests, for all intents and purposes, are ‘normal people’. That was a selling point at the job interview.

After three years of working here, she is still surprised at how liberal the ‘normal people’ are with their personal lives when in a hotel. Most guests leave their wallets and passports, their work-related things – documents, important-looking lanyards, filofaxes, business cards, electronic devices and so on – their toiletries and medication, and their dirty unmentionables for housekeeping staff to find. No one would leave these things out at their own home when other people came over. At a hotel all bets seemed to be off.

But the ‘normal people’ are surprisingly lax with the other facets of their lives as well.

Aside from stripping bed sheets and pillow cases with very obvious stains created by bodily fluids, she regularly picks up racy underwear, sex toys and accessories strewn across the rooms and ostentatiously draped over furniture. She has taken off handcuffs dangling from bed posts – once she even had to cut them down with a wire cutter – closed and re-shelved erotic books and magazines that lay open on bedside tables, and has thrown untold numbers of used condoms and suspiciously damp paper towels into the waste bins. The large flat-screen televisions in the upper suites have been tuned to porn and saucy movies dozens of times when she came in.

Sometimes she thinks some people mean for her – or someone – to find their evidence. It often feels like they intentionally leave the mementos of their sexual adventures before they leave the rooms, and then put the ‘room service required’-sign onto the door handle as a beacon. An invitation to the cleaning staff like her, to come in, rifle through their debris, and live vicariously through them.

And she does. She tries not to, tries to be impersonal, aloof and unaffected and do her job like a robot would. She tells herself that the things she cleans up are just that – things – and that it is irrelevant how they have previously been put to use. She doesn’t want to give the guests the satisfaction of knowing that they succeeded in stirring her up a little. It is reminiscent of the naughty teenagers at her first job at the supermarket, who would buy condoms and cucumbers, or try to buy condoms but then ‘change their minds’ and purchase zip-loc bags and rubber bands instead. She never wanted to give people the satisfaction then and she doesn’t plan on starting now, either.

She imagines The Normal Hotel Guests enjoying their breakfasts and lunches at the restaurant on the first floor and shooting each other private, wicked little glances because they know that, right at that moment, some stranger – she – is sifting through their things and reconstructing the events of last night, like some sort of unwilling detective.

Especially when the display in the room is particularly elaborate – colorful, floppy dildos that are shaped like tentacles dangling from the shower walls, or a complete bondage setup made of almost comically thick iron chains, or leather leashes curled on top of the bedside table and two large feeding bowls next to it in a hotel where dogs are not allowed – she furtively glances around for hidden cameras and strives to keep a very straight face.

She sometimes imagines the guests watching her on little screens in adjacent rooms, lying in wait for her to walk into their traps.

She imagines them hoping she would try out the offered toys and clothes and accessories – because some of them are placed and showcased like offerings to her.

Then, she imagines herself walking into those traps, and what would happen after.

As she untangles ropes from the bedposts, she imagines herself lying down on the bed instead, spread-eagled, slipping her hands through the little loops – just for a second, just to see how it feels – and pulling them tight until they karaman escort close around her wrists.

They are much tighter than she had bargained for. Sweaty panic sets in.

She would writhe around, the knee-length skirt of her cleaners’ uniform riding up on her thighs. She imagines the guests coming back and finding her there, catching her in the act, pleased that she took the bait, ready to exploit her self-inflicted helplessness.

As she drapes the delicate thong, garters, garter belt and silk stockings over the back of a chair in order to vacuum the floor, she imagines herself stepping out of her sensible work shoes, panty hose and panties and putting the lingerie on instead. Leaving out the panties, of course.

Just for a moment, to feel beautiful and sexy for a while. Being pantyless only makes it that much better, and worse.

The guests would come through the door and catch her as she stared at herself in the floor-to-ceiling mirror, her crotch obscenely framed and emphasized by all that lace trim and the silky frills around it.

Every so often, she thinks back to that very realistic suction cup dildo she had found stuck fast to the bottom of the shower cubicle. It had almost had her on all fours, bending over all the way, taking the phallus into her mouth and throat while her ass would stick up in the air.

Her mouth slides down on the toy, her lips tracing the veins and ridges, until the bulbous tip nudges the back of her throat. She would gag and choke a little – and try again, try to reach the shower floor with the tip of her nose.

Whoever would have come in would have seen her big, round buttocks, her maid uniform straining over it, and between them the gusset of her sensible white cotton panties with a little wet spot on it that would grow and get darker.

Of course, all of these things are just in her head. She never would and never could.

She loves and hates her job in equal measure.

***

The group made of two men and two women comes around the corner and passes by her and her cleaning trolley on the corridor. She meets their eyes in turn and gives them a polite smile and a “hello, good afternoon”, and they give it back.

She is struck by the beauty of the brunette with the high ponytail who is walking in front. Her lipstick is glossy and so red it looks like fresh blood dripping from her sumptuous mouth. Her green-eyed gaze seems to pierce through something within her. Her gait is that of a cat, a sure-footed, graceful strut on black heels.

The other woman is small and delicate in comparison but not any less striking, with almond eyes and hair so black it is almost blue, braided all the way down her back. She is holding on to the other woman’s elbow and leaning into her with a dreamy look on her face. They must be best friends, she thinks.

The two men who walk behind are both taller than the women. One of them is broad like a rugby player, the other lither. Both of them have an aura of utter self-confidence and easy grace. The bigger one has his hand around the brunette’s upper arm, but it is unclear whether he his leading her or being led.

She watches the group as it vanishes into a room at the far end of the corridor, a room she had skipped on her rounds due to the ‘please don’t disturb’ door hanger dangling from the doorknob.

Immediately, her imagination opens like a flower.

Two men, two women. So many possibilities.

Maybe they just talk, she thinks to herself, but a quiet, sly voice picks up where the thought left off – at first and then each man picks one woman for himself and holds her in a tight embrace from behind as he makes her watch what the other couple is doing on that big, white bed – he makes her watch and doesn’t allow her to touch herself-

Or maybe it is exactly the other way around. The women have picked a man and ordered him to his knees – lower – lower, so that they can mount their faces like a rider might mount a horse.

She suppresses a shiver.

Or maybe the two women and the two men are in a contest of endurance. Whoever makes their same sex partner orgasm first, by whichever means necessary, will win a tryst with the winner of the opposite sex team, while the losers will have to watch.

She sucks her lip into her mouth, inhales and tries to focus on work. She quickly goes through a couple of unspectacular rooms, changes sheets, linens and towels, cleans showers, mirrors and toilets and tops up the bedside mini-fridges with new bottles of water. All the while, her mind flits back to the group, though. She wonders what might be happening in that room at the end of the corridor.

They are not just talking.

She cannot even decide what she would like was happening instead, though. Too many possibilities.

Going around the corner, she spots the ‘room service required’ sign on the door of suite 317. She goes through the appropriate kars escort steps – knocking, calling out, opening the door slowly and calling out again. There is no answer, but there is a sound. The TV? She opens the door far enough to enter the suite.

It is one of the more spacious ones on this floor, with a large bathroom just to the right of the front door, the sleeping quarters measuring 30 square meters, flooded with daylight through panoramic windows, furnished with a king-sized bed, a closet, a large desk, chairs, a little lounge, and a 60 inch television and entertainment screen.

The screen is the first thing she sees. A flash of red like fresh blood pulls her gaze like a magnet.

It’s a super close-up of a beautiful face. The make-up is almost ruined now, the mascara smudged around her green cat eyes and running in rivulets down her cheeks, the lipstick smeared all around her cheeks and chin. Her skin is sweaty and blotchy, her hair a tangled mess, snot and tears glisten on her upper lip. Still, her eyes, larger than life on the high definition screen, focus on the camera. They are bright and alert and full of fire.

And full of lust so hot it’s blistering.

And looking straight at her spectator.

At her.

Her whole body goes cold and hot all over.

Red lips are stretched over the veined flesh of a hard penis that shuttles in and out of her mouth, causing her to gag and choke every now and then. Hands are buried in her hair and clamped around her head, forcing her forward and back, forward and back. Fingers hook into the sides of her mouth to hold it open even wider for the big cock.

The red-lipped woman groans and her watering eyes roll up and back in ecstasy. The people around her moan along with her, two men and one woman, and coo and taunt her as they pet her head and slap her cheeks. “What a good girl. Such a good little cocksleeve.”

It is only then that she blinks and realizes that one of the voices does not come from the TV at all, but from a man on a chair right in front of the screen. An audience of one in a home cinema.

He is naked, tied to his seat, his arms pulled up behind the back rest and tethered to a leather collar around his neck, which forces him to sit up very straight and with his chest pushed out.

Involuntarily, she inches forward, closer to him and the TV, to see him better and make sense of the sight.

The collar is made of thick, sturdy leather, with silver rings dangling from it. A ring gag keeps his mouth wide open and causes drool to drip down his chin and run down his chest. A pair of nipple clamps quiver upon his pecs. A small silver chain connects the clamps to the round piercing adorning the tip of his penis.

She stares. It is inevitable.

His cock his not very long, but the bulky jewelry and shape and movement make it impossible to look away from it. In this position, seated with his thighs spread wide, the man’s cock reminds her of a water tap. It is curved not towards his torso but forward, the heavy, bulbous, bejeweled glans almost drooping down. Fat drops of clear pre-cum seep from the slit like water droplets from a leaky faucet, onto the piercing, and drip onto the chair’s leather seat. The angry-looking organ jumps and jerks wildly, jangling the delicate chain that leads to the nipple clamps, pulling at them, doubtlessly making things more uncomfortable with every movement.

Abruptly, the man notices he has company. He groans loudly, pathetically, and tries in vain to say something around the contraption between his jaws. He tugs on his three pairs of cuffs – two on his ankles, two around his knees, and the two that keep his hands behind his back and his back so uncomfortably straight and strained – so hard that the whole chair creaks.

She gasps as she notices the same blood red color again, across his slightly hairy chest this time. Some letters are smeared by sweat and saliva, but the message is still readable. It is also simple and clear.

Clean this, accompanied by a perfect imprint of puckered lips right above his right nipple, and an arrow pointing down at the man’s crotch.

Again, her eyes cannot help but follow. Her gaze drops down yet again.

Feeling the weight and touch of her gaze, the man shifts around on the seat, mewling, and she realizes that there is some sort of toy lodged between his testicles. A vibrating one, judging by the low hum emanating from it. She imagines that the part pushing his balls is only one component of a bigger device, its other part leading into-

The man whines and tugs so furiously on his bindings that the whole chair scoots forward on the carpet, toward the TV screen.

One of the men is groaning like a wild animal and pressing the tip of his cock against the woman’s face and ejaculates over her cheeks, mouth and nose, smearing his spend on her lips and chin. “Don’t you dare wipe that off,” kıbrıs escort a deep voice warns from behind the camera, and the woman gives an eager, obedient nod which is interrupted by someone grabbing her hair and violently yanking her backward until she is sprawled on the floor. The other woman with the exotic features pushes her shoulders down and straddles her face. The camera zooms out to capture the whole picture. Bare, sweaty flesh. Pale, creamy limbs. A man grabs the woman’s ankle and spreads her legs so that her shaved pussy is on full display. It is swollen and ruby red and so sopping wet it glistens.

Clutching at her housekeeping uniform that suddenly feels too tight and too warm, she presses her thighs together and feels her own cunt weeping a droplet of confused, overwhelmed arousal into her panties.

The man in the chair tries to articulate again, but she has no chance against the ring gag. His cock jerks obscenely, comically, and another drop of pre-ejaculate seeps out of his tip, slides down the piercing and forms a thin thread that quivers as it reaches for the seat of the chair. The man throws his head back and jerks his hips once, causing his penis to bob, the chain to jangle and tighten, but quickly looks back to the screen as though he does not want to miss a second of what is happening in the room down the hall.

She imagines the woman being dominated by the three others may be his girlfriend, or his fiancée, or his wife, the three others her former lovers. Or his lovers? Are they teaching him a lesson? Or her? Or both? Or has she given herself freely, for her own amusement, because she likes to be tormented and torment her current paramour in return? Or maybe he has given her away because he likes seeing her like this, manhandled and used? Do they both enjoy being helpless? Do they have a standing agreement to come to this hotel and inflict this on themselves and on each other?

The man’s eyes are fixed on the red-lipped woman’s pussy. The camera zooms in on where two people’s index fingers vanish into her slick hole and pump in and out of it.

She notices the flush that creeps up his chest and straining, collared neck and into his face. Clean this, the lipstick words read, crimson on red.

The need to do as she is told, to kneel between this anonymous man’s spread legs and take that phallus into her mouth – smell it, taste it, feel its texture and size, feel it move against her tongue, lap that moisture up and make it all clean – is even more urgent than it was with that dildo in the shower. Her breath hitches, and as if he could hear it even over the moaning and groaning from the TV, the man throws a feverish glance over to her, no doubt taking in how her thighs are clamped together and how her nipples are turgid enough to create an outline through both her sensible bra and her starched work uniform.

Only with endless self-discipline does she manage to tear her gaze away from his gaze and his crotch, and turn away from the TV screen where one of the men has attached his mouth to the woman’s pussy, his shoulders and arms clamped around her upper thighs to keep her still even as she writhes madly under his assault.

Clean. I need to clean. With a deep breath, she turns toward the bed and strips the linens, pillow cases and sheet. Her hands move as if automatic. Her thoughts are racing, elsewhere.

“Oh fuck, you taste so fucking good.”

She wipes down the little desk and both night stands with jerky movements.

“Slap it.” A smacking sound. A shrieking moan. “Again. Harder.” A wet slap.

As quickly as she can, she slips into the bathroom and collects the towels. Through the open door, she can still hear everything.

“Ah, yes! Eat that pussy, bitch!”

The man on the chair gives a long whining, groaning sound.

Is he—

She replaces the little shampoo bottles with full ones. Her fingers are shaking ever so slightly.

Is he having an orgasm?

A high-pitched, moaning curse from the black-haired woman.

Is she?

She closes her eyes and tries to shake her head free from this maelstrom of lust and perversion, and from the sudden surging need to clean this, clean this-

“Oh God, oh God, oh God, please, please, please-!” follows her and snakes underneath her hot skin as she flees, clutching used towels to her body.

She pulls the door shut behind her as she steps out into the corridor. The solid wood keeps all the noises inside the room.

In the silence, she breathes.

Normal people will be the death of me.

She has never finished a bathroom, nor the rest of a floor, more quickly than that day.

She has never been haunted more by the muted bronze color of the ‘Please do not disturb’ door hanger that seems to wink at her from the handle of the door all the way at the end of the corridor.

All the while, she can feel the soaked fabric of her panties chafing against her swollen lips.

She does not clean this, either.

***

Two days pass, unremarkably.

The nights between them are another matter entirely. She feels restless. Her routine is shot by something that seems to move and surge inside of her whenever her mind is not entirely awake and occupied.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

This story is from a role-playing game where a girl was banned from wearing any panties, but she does anyway and gets caught and punished for it. Names may have been changed to protect the guilty. Cheska is the mysterious Innkeeper of the Wander Inn.

—

Silently sneaking into the Inn, Ada tiptoes and makes her way towards the foray board, but squeaks and freezes in her tracks as a soft ahem draws her attention. She giggles and straightens up, and quietly shuffles over to the source of the noise, assuming her most innocent smile as she presents herself before the Innkeeper.

A pleasant grin playing on her lips as she notices Ada approach, Cheska casts an appraising look at her from head to toe. Letting her piercing gaze rest on her leggings for a moment, she looks up at the startled Siren and merrily tilts her head as she goes, “Well?”

Rooted on the spot as Cheska appraises her, Ada fidgets and clasps her fingers before herself, then lets her hands idly dangle by her side as the Innkeeper takes her time to look at her. She giggles shyly at the obvious question and mumbles for a moment, seemingly unable to lie her way out before she murmurs out a questionably convincing answer, “Maaaybe?”

“Maybe?” Cheska repeats, prompting Ada to continue with a slight raise of her eyebrow.

Ada blushes and shyly shuffles her feet as she looks down, avoiding Cheska’s gaze as she stalls, ‘Umm..,’ but nods after a moment’s pause.

Grinning mischievously as Ada avoids her gaze, Cheska takes a more comfortable position on her perch and simply intones, “Out of it.”

Blinking at the sudden and simple order, Ada gapes at Cheska and takes a moment to fully understand her intent. Finding the Innkeeper’s face straight and her gaze unwavering, she lets out a nervous scoff before she quickly stutters, “W-what? Here?”

A merry grin playing on her lips despite her best effort to keep a straight face, Cheska shifts position and leans her face on an elbow, her gaze fixated on Ada as she keeps quiet, intently watching what the Siren would do.

Shuffling closer to Cheska as she closes the gap to whispering distance, Ada leans over the bar with the intent to argue, but ends up pausing midway, the thought instantly evaporating and replaced with a shy giggle as she meets the Innkeeper’s implacable gaze. ‘Umm..,’ she stalls with a raised finger, but ends up looking away for lack of words, eventually trudging to a spot behind the bar, far from the crowd.

Her gaze following Ada as she positions herself far from the Inn’s patrons, Cheska grins amusedly but lets her be, idly twirling her finger through a lock of kilis escort her hair as she waits. Swivelling on her perch to get a better view, she finds the Siren fidgeting with her shoes, and licks her lips as she finally straightens up and looks like she would do what she hopes she would do.

Taking a deep breath as she stands barefoot before the Innkeeper, Ada casts a furtive glance across the bar from her place, silently cursing herself at accidentally having placed herself in a spot where most of the patrons would have a clear view of her, thankful of having her back to the wall, nevertheless. Her attention drawn to Cheska again, she smiles shyly and dips her fingers into the waistband of her leggings, wiggling this way and that as she rolls the tight garment off her legs, her motions hurried and nervous as she tries to get over with as quickly as possible. Bending over as she pushes the garment to her ankles, she steps out of the lacy pile and straightens up slowly, goosebumps pricking her naked skin as she crosses her hands to cover herself between her legs, her cropped shirt doing little to contain her exposure.

‘Umm..,’ Ada stalls but blinks as Cheska flings a napkin at her, turning a shade of crimson on the cheeks as she realises what it’s for. Her face scrunching from embarrassment as she holds the little square of folded cloth between her legs, she wiggles and dances and manages to push her panties off her hips with one hand but pauses just as the garment reaches till the middle of her thighs.

The sudden realisation of silence around her drawing her gaze to the rest of the inn, Ada gasps at finding the patrons extremely interested in her ‘performance’ and squeezes her thighs despite herself as the exposure sends shivers up her spine like a powerful aphrodisiac. Her gaze flitting to Cheska once again, she blushes as she tries to cast a pleading glance towards the Innkeeper but bites her lips at finding her looking just as expectant as before.

Closing her eyes momentarily as she tries to regain composure, Ada finally manages to focus on the task at hand and pushes her panties all the way down to her ankles, before kicking the flimsy net towards the Innkeeper, blushing as it is rapidly collected and sequestered out of sight. Still remaining somewhat hunched as she tightly clutches the napkin held between her legs, she looks up to meet Cheska’s gaze and makes her best impression of puppy eyes in an attempt to woo her, but ‘Eee!’s as a soft gust of wind caressing her back reminds her of her state of undress. The casual lack of any haste from the Innkeeper making her fidget, kırklareli escort she bites her lips as her arousal continues to climb from the exposure, flushing her crimson on the cheeks and behind her ears as she helplessly squirms and rubs her thighs together.

Taking deep breaths as a measure of control while Ada strips before her, Cheska lets her gaze openly wander over the Siren’s naked curves, a silly grin threatening to break free of her carefully maintained demeanour as her eyes feast on the naked expanse of smooth skin from her toes to all the way up to her navel. Fully aware of Ada’s helpless arousal from exposure, she lets the Siren remain naked and squirming for a few moments longer than absolutely necessary, and squints suspiciously at the napkin held between her legs.

Grinning as she realises Ada is no longer in control of her own hands, Cheska finds herself momentarily mesmerised with the discreet yet unmistakable motions of the square napkin against her sex but shakes her head as if breaking out of a reverie soon enough. Rummaging through her belongings, she quickly finds a suitable garment for the Siren and loudly snaps her fingers at her, letting a sigh of relief at having caught her attention before her ‘performance’ culminated to its crescendo with everyone watching her.

Her eyes closing momentarily as a silent moan escapes her, Ada finds it increasingly difficult to maintain her composure, helplessly squirming and rubbing her thighs together despite herself as she waits for Cheska. Gasping as she feels her arousal cresting, she clenches her teeth and tightly squeezes her thighs together in a bid to distract herself, and nearly lurches towards Cheska as soon as she hears her fingers snap for her. With the napkin tightly held between her legs, she pants as she places a hand on Cheska’s shoulder for balance, gratefully stepping into a pair of what looks to be a pair of tiny shorts held up for her. She ‘Eee!’s and wriggles as Cheska keeps the garment lingering at her shins for a few moments longer than really necessary but stills herself quickly enough as she feels the fabric being pulled up to her thighs.

A merry laugh finally escaping her lips as she watches Ada scurry over to her, Cheska holds the rather skimpy shorts for her to step into, seemingly forgetting about pulling them up on her legs as she savours the sight up and close. She blinks and shakes her head as Ada begins to squeal and wriggle and takes her own time to pull the garment up to her thighs, a merry grin gracing her lips as she finds her face level with the square napkin still karabük escort tightly held between the Siren’s legs. She clears her throat and waits, and giggles at the Siren’s brief hesitation, a short gasp escaping her as the napkin is finally pulled out of her way. Unable to resist the opportunity, she tugs the Siren closer to herself and plants a deep, slow kiss on her already aroused sex. Letting go only when she feels the Siren’s arousal cresting yet again, she carefully orchestrates it and pulls off just as she tips over the edge, watching merrily as she successfully ruins it, the silken folds uselessly contracting against nothing while a shuddering moan escapes their owner. Pulling the shorts up to the Siren’s waist, she pats her sex over it and looks up to find her mildly annoyed and surprised at the same time, at which she reasserts her authority and declares, “As for punishment..”

Hunching over and leaning both hands on Cheska’s shoulders as she feels her kiss her between her silken folds so intimately, Ada freezes momentarily in place and closes her eyes as she avoids looking at anyone still enjoying the sight and finds herself shuddering as a sea of pleasure glimmers on the horizon of her conscience. She runs for it, breathlessly and desperately, and almost squeals out in triumph as her feet dip into the waters, her sea of joy rapidly replaced by a pit of despair as Cheska withdraws, at which she opens her eyes and stares at the Innkeeper with wild eyes, a torrent of emotions rippling through her as she tries to think straight. She stares at her angrily, but suddenly gets a pang of shyness in her stomach as she feels the shorts being pulled up to her waist, her legs still trembling from the experience as she blinks at the mention of punishment.

“..you’re not allowed to touch yourself. Yes? Good.” Cheska intones imperiously to Ada, and almost avoids giggling as she tries to impress the consequences on the Siren. She ponders momentarily as Ada remains standing near her but slaps her on the hips and casually dismisses her before turning to tend to her customers again, the din of the Inn resuming as soon as she shouts at somebody trying to sneak away without paying for their meal. Letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, she relaxes as she feels the Siren pad away from behind her, but casts a quick glance to the receding figure, her tongue wetting her lips yet again as she murmurs to herself, “I hope I wasn’t too harsh on her..” Making a point to be kinder next time, she returns to her place and rings the next person to their room, a rosy blush decorating her cheeks from the day’s events.

Staring as Cheska forbids her from touching herself, Ada bites her lip and fidgets as she waits to be let go and makes a run for it as soon as the Innkeeper turns to face away from her, giggly laughter escaping in her wake as she calls out to her wolf, seemingly ready for the next adventure already.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

A young’un, only 18, he worked in a fitness store. He worked in back, doing mechanical work on the equipment they sold. Up front, a number of guys (and two gals) took care of the sales aspect. Eventually, they told him, he’d work up front too. But for now, he’d only hear of the interesting customers, whether difficult, eccentric, pretty, or whatever. Out of sight in back, he felt comfortable in his own little space, his own workbench, his own tools. Well, they really weren’t his tools. They were the company’s, but they were exclusively for him. It didn’t matter that they had been previously used – in fact, he preferred it that way. It only seemed right that the more experienced techies got the nicer tools. After all, they were the teachers; he was a student.

Typically, on slower days, the other guys would come to the back. Multiple work stations allowed a lot of equipment to be worked on at once, and he’d learn a lot from the more experienced employees. But when customers came in, they’d leave him and help the customers. Sometimes, he’d tag along, admiring the smooth way the guys would explain a feature and why it was a benefit. He’d never forget these ideas, and he treasured the opportunity to learn more.

One day, the front bustled with activity. A record day, he thought. He looked down at his hands. Greasy, grimy, they were pretty dirty. As one of the “teachers” pointed out to him, “When you have to wash your hands *before* you go to the bathroom, you know you’ve been working!” How true it was, he thought.

His mini meditation was interrupted by the manager.

“Come out front, we need your help.”

He looked up, a little panicky.

“Um, lemme wash up…”

“There’s no time for that. Just come up front and greet people and tell them one of us will be right with them. If you can help them out, great, do it. Okay? Thanks.” The manager’s head disappeared around the corner.

He got up, wiping his hands as best as he could on a clean rag. Not much improvement, but at least he wouldn’t be trailing little bits of grease and such. He walked into the front and stopped. It really was busy, and the floor was crowded enough that he actually had to watch where he was going. He picked out the customers standing alone and timidly asked them if they needed help. Each one thanked him but someone was already helping them out. He made the rounds and ended back at the entry to the rear of the floor.

“Hey, everyone’s been helped out,” he reported.

“Just hang out here for a sec, okay? We may need you in a bit.”

He turned to watch the customers. The best customer service, he thought, was the service that someone provided before the customer can even ask for it. With that in mind, he tried to anticipate if someone was going to turn to ask a question. But they were all deeply involved with the equipment, accessories, and various pamphlets and such. No one looked up and around, a sure sign that they were looking for help.

Then the door opened. The sunlight streaming in accentuated the golden hair of the person walking in, but he couldn’t see more than that – the glare washed out anything he could see. He looked around – all his colleagues were busy. So he walked forward, shielding his eyes from the sun.

Oh my god. He paused. This girl is gorgeous, he thought. About an inch taller than his 5’7″, her blonde hair framed a delicate, heart shaped face. Her white t-shirt covered a sports bra struggling to hold in her breasts, and her baggy running shorts only accentuated the taut thighs and slim calves. She looked around, then seeing the clothing section, she walked towards it.

He turned around, not believing van escort his fortune. All the guys had taken notice, and everyone hurried to finish whatever they were doing. But in the 15 seconds it took for her to pause in front of a rack of shorts, even the best salespeople couldn’t write up an order. And so it was up to him to help her out.

“Um, hi, can I help you?” he asked shyly.

“I’m looking for some of those lycra shorts, bike shorts,” she replied.

“Uh, for yourself?”

“Yep, for me.”

“Well, we have the women’s shorts right here. Those are the large’s, those the mediums, that section is the smalls, and then we have the extra smalls there.” He mentally thanked whoever made him build this whole rack the week before. It was the only part of the store he actually knew.

She pawed through a few of the small sized shorts.

“How come most of them are black?” she asked.

“Well, it seems to be the most popular color. But we have a couple colored ones too,” he offered.

“I like these,” she said, pulling out a red pair, size small. “You think these would fit me?” her glance flashed at him. She held them up to her waist, pulling on the short’s legs and hips to see if they’d cover her. At best, it would be a struggle. Her slim waist would be fine, but even her slender hips would stretch the material, and he couldn’t even think about her legs.

“Uh..” he didn’t know where to look. Helpfully, she turned her hips so he could see her rear. This, unfortunately, did nothing to make him more coherent. “Uh, I guess so. Um, I don’t know. I don’t know how women’s sizing works,” he admitted.

“Well, maybe I can try them on,” she offered.

“Um okay. Can you hang on a second?” he asked.

“Sure!”

He walked over to the manager.

“Do we have a dressing room?” he asked.

“Uh, that curtain over there? It’s for the dressing room,” the manager replied.

“Oh. I didn’t know. Um, if she wants to try on some shorts, do we have to take a credit card or something?”

“Oh, no, just let her try them on.” The manager was looking over his shoulder at the girl. “You know, if she needs anything and you’re not sure about it, just let me know, okay?”

“Okay, sure.”

He trotted back.

“Over there, see that curtain. That’s the dressing room. You can try them on there.”

She walked over there and pulled the curtain closed. But she tugged midway up the curtain, so the rings didn’t quite make it to the edge. When she let go, the curtain dropped back just a bit, a couple inches short of closed. As he looked in astonishment, he could faintly see her form as she bent over and pulled her shorts off. Then she pulled the red shorts on. She pulled back on the curtain and saw him looking at her. She smiled a knowing smile.

“You think these fit?” She asked. She turned her hips again, thrusting her butt out towards him. This time, he could see her firm rear end, the curvaceous butt, the slim hips, the toned legs. The red shorts brought out her tan, and combined with her white t-shirt, she looked like a centerfold come to life.

“Uh. Um.” he squirmed uncomfortably.

“You think these are tight enough?” she smiled at him.

“Uh….” He felt hot and warm and all of a sudden the air conditioning was not enough.

“I don’t know if these wrinkles should be here,” she said, pulled at her butt, smoothing out a single wrinkle.

“Um, I think they fit fine,” he finally blurted out.

“Really? You don’t think I should try a smaller one?”

“Um, no, the leg band would be too tight them. Um. Like right there.” He pointed at her thigh, not daring to touch. yalova escort “It looks fine they way it is.” His voice cracked and he hoped she didn’t notice. Her knowing grin said otherwise, but he was so distracted, he never realized.

“Are you sure?” she asked, turning the other way. Her whole body was a slim, slender thing, and whatever she did to try and see the shorts on her just made her all that much more sexy and pretty. He swallowed, his voice threatening to betray him.

“Um, yeah, I’m sure. The shorts look really, really good.” He realized what he just said and blushed.

“Okay,” she said, watching his reactions, enjoying his obviously nervous and inexperienced attention. “Is it okay if I wear them out?” she asked.

“Well, you have to pay for them first,” he pointed out.

“Oh, of course, I just didn’t want to change back to my other shorts.”

“Okay.”

They walked over to the counter, and he wrote up a sales slip. This slip was only his third or fourth one, so he wrote out the shorts information carefully and completely. She stood patiently, but when he accepted her credit card and went to run it through the machine, she started fiddling behind her shirt. She had to arch her back to do so, and he returned to see her thrusting her breasts right at him. He looked down quickly

“Um, can you sign here?” he asked, not daring to raise his eyes. She signed and took her copy.

“You know,” she said, still fiddling behind her back, “there’s a tag in these shorts. Could you cut them out for me?”

“I’ll get some sissors,” he said, and turned to go back to the work area. Frantically, he looked for some sissors but couldn’t find any. The only thing he could find were some wire cutters, the kind that look like pliers, with a half inch cutting edge.

He ran back to the front where the blonde waited patiently.

“Here,” he said, “I think these will work.”

He held them out to her. She looked at them blankly. Then she looked at him.

“Can you cut the tag off?” she asked.

“Um, my hands are dirty and I don’t want to get your clothes all greasy,” he protested.

“It’s okay, they can be washed.”

“Uh, but I don’t want to, um, uh, you know, uh, bother you,” he stammered.

“Hey, I don’t mind. The tag is just bugging me.”

He stood just to her left and timidly pulled at the waistband of her shorts. Like many lycra shorts, the waist was high, and the shorts were actually multiple panels sewn together. Helpfully, she put her hands on the counter and slightly arched her back, thrusting her butt outwards. Glancing down for a moment, he noticed a faint panty line. But it was just a moment – he felt like he could only sneak a peek, not blatantly stare. He could actually feel the heat of her body she was so close. She smelled fresh, feminine – he’d never been this close to a girl before. He had to step back to avoid touching her, and his hands trembled as he pulled her waistband back, looking for the tag. He peered down her shorts then he realized something.

“Um, the tag isn’t on the waistband. It’s like 6 inches down from the waistband on a little tag down there.” He tilted a bit to look at her and continued, “Um, I really think you should do it. I’d have to reach too far down to cut it. These cutters have a short cutting edge so they have to be right next to the tag to cut it.”

“No, really, I don’t mind.” She thrust her butt out just a bit more. “Just cut the tag, it’s okay.”

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Really, it’s okay,” she said, turning over her left shoulder and smiling at him.

He grinned weakly back. “Okay, if you insist.”

He çorlu escort pulled the waistband back a few inches and peered down. There it was, the price tag with the little white thingy holding it to the “care on reverse” label. Her panties were visible too, white cotton ones with some hearts or teddy bears or something roundish and small printed all over. He gulped. Not only was the first girl he’d been so close to, this was his first panty he saw on a girl.

He reached down with the pliers and tried not to touch her back. Her spine was there, and he really didn’t want to tap her spine with the hard plier handle. So he pulled a little more on the shorts to give himself room. Of course, this only gave him visibility.

“Okay, I got it, I’m going to cut the tag,” he said.

Snip.

Oh shit.

The tag fell.

“Um,” he said.

“What, did you cut the tag?” she asked.

“Um, I did.”

“So just take it out,”she suggested.

“Uh, I can’t. The tag fell.”

“Oh. Well, I can’t walk around with a tag in my shorts. Can you just grab it?” she asked.

“Uh, maybe you should do it. I really think it might be better if you do it,” he stammered. “It kinda fell.”

“No, you can do it. At least you can see it, just grab it.” she answered.

“Um, okay.”

He reached down towards the tag. A typical clothing tag, it measured about 1″ x 1 1/2″ with the remenants of the little white thing that attaches to the clothing. First, he got the white nib left in the “care on reverse label”, tossing it on the floor. Unfortunately (or fortunately?), this particular tag chose to fall till the leading edge hit the line that separated the shorts from the girl. As he reached down, the shorts pulled away from the girl, and the tag, free to drop further, followed the curve of the shorts.

“Um. It keeps falling further,” he reported.

“It’s okay, really.”

He didn’t reply, instead focusing on the task at hand. He kept reaching and the tag kept falling, until it leveled off, sitting in the crotch of her shorts.

He couldn’t grab the tag, it sat perfectly flat on the crotch of her shorts. So he did the next best thing, he tried to push down on it with his index and middle finger. Then he could slide it towards his hand so that he could grab it between those fingers and his palm. It worked, except that he made some unexpected contact while doing so, with the knuckles of his fingers. They grazed the cotton panties that formed the only barrier between his fingers and her sex. She felt surprisingly hot and he could feel the sensation of soft, warm cotton.

Then he had the tag and extricated it.

“I got it!” he declared triumphantly.

“I knew you could do it,” she answered, smiling. “Thanks!”

He looked at her sheepishly. The customer service side of him surfaced.

“You need to keep the tag?” he asked her.

“Oh, no, you can throw it away, thanks.” she responded.

She straightened up, turned and walked out the door. He watched her push open the door and walk out. He squinted and could see that she got in a car out there, a sporty little car. She backed out of her spot and pulled away.

He turned and walked in back to throw out the tag.

“Hey!” someone called.

He turned. A thought crossed his mind. Maybe he did something wrong.

“What?” he replied tentatively.

It was the manager, writing up a large order for some customers out front. Without looking up, the manager kept talking.

“You get her phone number?” the manager asked.

“Phone number?”

“You know, on the receipt there’s a section for phone number and stuff.”

“There is?”

“Hey, look. If a girl asks you to stick your hands down her shorts, you ask for her phone number, okay?”

He mulled over the words. It did make sense, now that he thought of it.

“Okay, next time, I will.”

Of course, it never, ever, happened again.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Thursday evenings my husband worked late. A teacher at the local high school he was one of those wonderfully conscientious people who’d volunteer for any (and all) after-hours activity. On Thursday nights he was supervising, of all things a hip hop dance crew. When he told me I snorted with laughter. And then when he’d struck a pose, holding out his hands like some kind of bad boy rapper I fell to the floor, almost peeing myself I laughed so hard. Brent was so white, so neat, so suburban the very idea of him having anything to do with hip hop was ludicrous—Vanilla Ice was too urban for him.

On one of my Thursday nights alone I discovered I was a voyeur.

The discovery came as a genuine surprise to me as I’d never before felt the urge to watch. My college roommate had tried her best to make me voyeur, never locking the door or leaving a sign when her boyfriend ‘visited’. I’d found that whole experience revolting. Now, looking back I think perhaps it was because I knew her and had to make eye contact the next day. As a very visual person I’d found it difficult—whenever I looked at her, all that had been spread the night before would flash before my eyes…yuck.

Strangers, I discovered, were not at all yuck. They were a whole different story. I liked to watch strangers.

In fact, I loved it.

Our apartment complex was shaped like a giant horseshoe. The long thin space between—in the middle of the horseshoe—was filled with beautifully landscaped gardens and a swimming pool. We loved the building—made of weathered sandstone it stood out like a regency jewel amongst the surrounding generic glass and steel structures.

All the apartments had big sash windows, almost floor to ceiling in their length. They let out heat like a bitch in winter but it was worth it because in summer they were glorious.

Summertime everyone kept them open—mostly uncovered by curtains or blinds—which meant of course, with the horseshoe formation of the building we could see right into the apartment opposite. At night often it seemed as if giant TV screens were hung across the way—that’s how clearly you could see in the windows.

Summer school break had ended; the nights were starting to cool but the diehard of us kept those windows open for as long as possible. That Thursday I had an awful headache and I came home early with the intention of taking a little afternoon nana nap. When I awoke I found I’d slept longer than I thought. It was past eight o’clock and the apartment was dark.

Because I knew Brent was not yet home I didn’t bother to turn on a light. He usually didn’t make it home until after nine. After deciding I’d wait to eat with him, I grabbed a soda from the fridge and went to sit at the table by the window in the dark.

I heard them first—a soft moan that floated across the space between the buildings. It drew my eye to the windows directly opposite our apartment. In the brightly lit frame of the window I could see a couple locked in an embrace. He was young and buff. It was his apartment, I knew because I’d seen him before. She I’d never before seen, older than him she was dressed in an expensive grey suit—the kind that lawyers or business executives wore. She moaned again. Expressive and lyrical—a beautiful sound—not at all like my own wounded animal cries of pleasure.

The young guy was shirtless in jeans; I saw her hands go to the fly and then watched as they sunk down low on his hips to expose his pelvis. I’ve always loved the V of muscle that sits low on a man’s stomach. Brent’s was lovely, no romance novel cover six pack, but lean and defined. I loved to run my tongue along that v-line of muscle, down, down to the coarse hair below and bury my nose in the manly smell of him. The business woman obviously did too because she sank to her knees and buried her head in his crotch. The young guy threaded his fingers in her hair and guided the movement of her head—pulling her back so I could see the wet length of the erect penis in her mouth.

She was sucking his cock.

I was watching her suck his cock.

I moved closer to the window, on my knees, the base of the window frame at my hips. I felt a hot wet gebze escort rush between my legs. I knew as I pushed a finger under my skirt and inside the elastic edge of my panties that I’d be soaked. I was. Slipping into that steamy heat I slicked a finger along my slit and started to masturbate. My skirt had ridden up past my hips, pushed back by the hand wedged between my legs.

Cool night air blew on my exposed thighs.

I felt deliciously dirty. Skirt up, ass pushed out, on my knees. Watching her suck his cock. The thrill was so intense my orgasm came quick. Hitting like a match to pooled gas. Bright, fiery and intense.

So fast and furious it left me a feeling a little empty. I would have liked to have tried for a second more leisurely orgasm but I knew Brent would be home soon and I didn’t want to share what I had just done. I pulled down my skirt, washed my hands, turned on the light and waited for my husband to come home. All the while knowing that across the building the couple was having sex.

* * * *

While I’d hoped, when I checked the next Thursday to see if the couple was there again, I didn’t really expect it. To my surprise—and delight—they were there, erotically displayed for my viewing pleasure—that Thursday and every other that I cared to look. I started to make up little stories about them in my head—scenarios to explain their delicious Thursday night liaisons.

‘They were having an affair. He was her secretary. While at work she’d forcefully push him under the desk to lick her pussy, that’s why he became so dominant in the privacy of his apartment. He was her step-so. It was an illicit assignation that would shock and devastate the family. He was an escort, a high class hooker that she paid for every Thursday.’

The stories went on and on, becoming the staring feature of every masturbatory fantasy. Apart from my usual Thursday voyeuristic sessions I’d become voracious in my need to make myself come. In the shower of a morning, at night lying beside Brent, even a couple of lunch breaks at work after I’d locked the office door. I’d close my eyes and picture them, always in the frame of that window.

When I was on my knees, skirt up, panties pushed aside I was lost to my need, totally oblivious of everything other than my finger and the couple across the way. Because of that I didn’t hear. I didn’t hear the door or the soft footsteps of Brent as he came up behind me. I don’t know how long he stood, watching me, watching them. However long it was it was enough time for his cock to stiffen and press out against the placket of his trousers. I knew because it was the first thing I saw after he spoke my name and I jumped, spun around on my knees to face him.

“Lila?”

On my knees, my head at his crotch I still had my hand in my bunched up panties. Shame hit me like a wave. Full force to the whole body as if I’d been violently dumped in the surf. Oddly, the shock of him seeing me like that didn’t chill my ardor it spiked it, like an accelerant to flame. Right there, on my knees, hand in my panties caught like a dirty little bitch, I came. Spasms rocked my body. I wailed and I knew just from that sound he’d know what had happened.

“Did you just come?” he asked.

Still panting from the intensity of the unexpected orgasm I didn’t speak, instead nodding slightly.

“What were you doing?”

To me, the question seemed stupid. It was obvious what I’d been doing. Where he was standing he could clearly see out the window at what I’d been watching. He looked between the window and me, back and forth. I knew because of the hard-on in my line of sight that he wasn’t completely disgusted by my actions, but I wasn’t sure how he felt.

“You were watching them. Fingering yourself and watching them.”

Again I didn’t speak, just nodded.

“And you came when I caught you.” He looked down at me frowning. I still had my skirt rucked up at my hips, I felt so exposed while he frowned, so turned on that I had to cover myself. My fingers were at the hem, ready to tug the fabric down to cover my legs when he said in rumbling bass, “No. Leave it. Leave it up.”

I gümüşhane escort was shocked silent by his words. Speechless. Our sex life was good, I always came, but it was pretty vanilla—never had he spoken to me like that before. I did as he said, leaving the skirt bunched up above my panties.

“Turn around.”

I shuffled around on my knees to face the window.

“Forward. Hands on the frame.”

Palms out I leaned into the window frame. He placed a hand between my shoulders and lowered me further so that my ass was arched up.

“Head up. Watch them,” he said.

I raised my chin to look up, out over the divide at the apartment opposite. He had her on the couch in the center of the room. Her legs were splayed open and his head was between them, licking. He had his fingers spread out on her knees, pushing them wide, wide open.

Brent pulled down my panties. Not all the way down, just so they sat under the swell of my ass. He’d come down on his knees beside me, I felt his hip bump into mine.

He left me there panties down, ass uncovered for an excruciatingly long time.

Across the way she’d come on his mouth in the time I knelt exposed. Now she was bent over the arm of the couch and he was fucking her from behind.

I wanted something. Anything. I began to rock on my knees, aching for some kind of contact. The contact came as a short sharp slap to my ass. It was unexpected, in the both the action and my reaction. It contracted my pussy, a sharp jolt of pleasure not unlike a tug to the nipple.

“Dirty girl. Touching her pussy watching the neighbors.”

I moaned and rocked back, aching for another slap. I got what I wanted in a rain of stinging smacks—his hand barely leaving my ass before coming back down again. I heard myself, like an animal I grunted, moaned and heaved. My pussy flooded, throbbing heavy with wetness. The hand not slapping my ass he brought between my thighs, spearing his fingers into soaked heat. Two fingers he thrust inside and in a moved that shocked me he pushed a thumb against the puckered entrance of my ass.

“Come dirty girl. Come.”

Without a touch to my clit, just the slap of his hand on my ass, the fingers in my pussy and the indignity of that thumb at my ass, I came. Clamped hard around his fingers I called out and drenched him with my orgasm. Did they hear me? Did they hear the slap of his hand on my ass? Across the building did she hear me come?

My body shook with aftershocks. Unable to hold myself up I sank down to rest my forehead against the window frame. I was panting, my chest heaving when I felt rough fingers pulling my panties down my legs. He gave a light slap of my thighs and I lifted each knee one by one to allow him to pull them off my legs. I thought he’d take me like that, shove his cock in me while I rested against the window frame.

I was wrong.

“Get up.”

It didn’t really register what he said, so I stayed face down, with my head now resting on my crossed arms. The fingers that pinched my sore ass made me jump.

“Get up.” He pinched the spank sore flesh again and I didn’t hesitate. I got up on my knees. “Turn around. On your knees. Face me.”

I hadn’t spoken since he’d gotten home. First shocked and now I sort of liked the silence. The way it figured into whatever this game was we were playing. I looked up at him. He was back standing in front of me; feet spread his pelvis rocked slightly forward. Neatly dressed in his work clothes he made me feel all the more exposed.

“Open your blouse. Show me your tits.”

I gasped. Gentle Brent never spoke this way.

My blouse came open easily, shrugging my shoulders I let it fall open to reveal my bra.

“Pull them out.”

I went to unbuckle the front clasp of my bra but he said, “No. Just over the top. Pull them over the top.”

I pushed back the lace cup over the swell of my breast down to the underwire. He nodded and so I did the other.

“Touch them.”

I cupped my breasts which pushed up by both underwire and the fabric of the cup seemed almost obscenely round.

“Pinch the nipples.”

My nipples izmir escort were the kind that came out to play at the slightest touch—poking into large round points. They’d been hard from the moment I’d started to watch the neighbors. I rolled each fat pointed nub between my thumb and fingertip. The sensation shot through me like fire. I had to rock my hips it felt so good.

“Yes,” his voice came out thick. His hips rocked too bringing the jut of his cock closer to my head. There was a damp spot where the wet head of his cock pressed against the fabric. I met his eye as I licked my lips. He unbuckled his belt and opened his fly. His khakis fell over his hips and he unbuttoned his white business shirt exposing that V of muscle that I loved so much. His khakis hung open and low but he made no move to take them off, instead he pulled down his briefs until they rested below his balls. His cock jutted out, the head bobbing at my cheek. I made no move, waiting for his words.

“Suck it.”

I’d never before thought of myself as a great giver of blow jobs, but I fell upon that cock like a porn star. Moaning around that hard shaft I took more and more in my mouth. Loving it. Loving the thrust of his hips and the rough pull of the fingers fisted in my hair.

“Look at you. On your knees. Cocksucker. Dirty little cocksucker.”

The words shot heat through me as real and as electric as a brush against my clit. I flicked my tongue into the slit at the tip of his cock.

“I can see them. He’s pulled out of her pussy. He’s spreading her ass. He’s going to fuck her little asshole. She loves it. She’s bent over the couch, her tits rocking as he fucks her ass.”

I moaned around his cock and the hand in my hair tugged harder. I needed more, the throb between my legs had become unbearable. I slid a hand down my body, my fingers moving to ease the throb of my clit.

“Are you touching yourself? Making yourself come again?”

I nodded, bobbing my head on his cock.

“Fuck!” The hand in my hair pulled me back, my mouth leaving his cock with a sucking wet pop. He shoved me down, fingers gripping my shoulder moving me until I was on all fours in front of him. Without even a moment to ready myself he was in me, thrusting like a piston. His fingers gripped my hips using them to pull me back each time he pushed forward, our bodies slapping together.

He rocked me back, pulling me up so that I was up on my knees, his sweat slick stomach pressed to my back. His hands wrapped around, fingers gripping my breasts.

‘Touch yourself,” he panted in my ear.

I brought a hand down to my clit. It was swollen, poking out like a little erection. The first touch made me spasm, a swift strong contraction around his cock.

“Fuck yeah,” he said as he continued to plunge inside me

The angle of his cock was exquisite, short sharp thrusts that vibrated pleasure through my whole body. My fingers were a blur on my clit, rubbing fast and hard.

“Come. Come. Give it to me. Come around my dick.”

And I did.

Soul sapping, muscle melting violent spasms that racked my body.

“Lila!” he yelled out my name as he came so loud it rang in my ears.

I slumped forward, no longer able to hold myself up. The hard wood floor was cool against my bared breasts. I lay flat with my head to the side. He came down on the floor and lay on his side looking at me. Reaching over he brushed a lock of damp hair that had fallen in my eyes.

“Lila,” he said my name, awed and hushed, like a revelation.

That’s how it felt to me too.

“What was that?” he asked.

I swallowed and rolled to lie on my side facing him. “A revelation.”

“Tell me. Please.” He’d propped up his head on his hand and was looking down at me intently.

“I’ve been watching them awhile now. Every Thursday you’re at work.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I’ve discovered that I’m a bit of a voyeur.”

He laughed. “Well, I’ve just discovered that I’ve got a bit of dominant streak.”

“Mmmm,” I said, remembering the feeling of his hand on my ass.

His eyes darkened, clouded with lust. “Tell me. Tell me what else you’ve discovered.”

“I’m a voyeur. I like being spanked. I like you pulling my hair. I love your cock in my mouth. I love you fucking me hard. And…”

“And?”

“And I think I might want you to fuck my ass.”

“Revelation,” he murmured and moved in to kiss me, for the first time since he’d come home.

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