Latex boots and nylon stockings gal.
We managed to get up in time to catch the tail end of the evening meal. It seemed strange to be sitting across from Heather and Cassie again, twenty-four hours after meeting them, and be on such different terms of intimacy. All four of us were playing footsie under the table and exchanging delighted, sparkle-eyed, grins above it as we ate and talked. It felt wonderful. There was a joyous free and easy flow of affection and sexual play among us. Annie and I were somewhat concerned at first about how the other people in the camp would react to our unusual bond but Heather and Cassie assured us that these were very tolerant people regarding relationships and this proved to be true. Later, the only comments we heard simply reflected the fact that we were viewed as a quartet without any negative implications.
While we were eating, the low throbbing sound of drums began to emanate from the woods, some distance away. Cassie and Heather explained that dancing around a bonfire to the beat of drums was a regular feature of these gatherings. Annie and I were both less than feverous with enthusiasm but it was clear that our two companions were eagerly anticipating the event so we quickly finished eating and joined them in finding the path that led to the constant thumping beat that called to us out of the gathering dark. As we got closer I felt the sonorous pounding quickening my blood and deepening my breath, touching something buried within.
They'd neglected to mention that most of the dancers danced naked so it was a bit of a shock for me when the bonfire came into sight and we saw the flashing forms of a number of naked men and women circling around it, moving to the insistant pounding cadence of the handmade Native American style drums. Heather and Cassie pulled off their dresses as soon as we reached the circle of people watching the dancers. Annie wasn't far behind. I however, chose to remain with the other spectators.
Heather was the hairiest woman among them. I enjoyed watching her dance. She seemed to melt easily into the intoxicating rhythm, oblivious to the wild swinging of her breasts. I was enthralled by the shifting views of her hairiness revealed by the fire's wavering light.
Cassie was more sedate, less absorbed. I enjoyed watching her too. Her hairiness, I realized, was almost as extensive as Heather's but much lighter, more subtle. Annie, my darling wife, was her usual spritely self and danced with quick joyful leaps. I saw that the three of them maintained an awareness of each other through playful touches and glances.
After observing the variety of movements and soaking up the primal excitement of the drums I found the courage to shuck off my t-shirt and cut-offs and join the exultant throng. The three women quickly noticed my presence and each greeted me with a smile or pat. It was a new experience in a weekend crammed with fascinating new experiences. I would never have imagined how exhilarated I could feel dancing naked with a bunch of other naked people around a fire in the woods to the solid hammering pulse of drums.
We danced for almost six hours, taking occasional breaks to sit on the grass with the spectators and other weary dancers. Finally Cassie announced that she'd had enough. I was ready to go too but both Heather and Annie were caught up in the fever of the dance.
"You guys go back to the tent and we'll show up when we show up, okay?" Annie said.
So Cassie and I put on our clothes and fumbled our way along the pitch black path. "We should have brought flashlights," Cassie grumbled irritably, at one point. For the most part, however, we were silent. I sensed that she was absorbed in her own thoughts and I didn't feel much like talking myself. I felt physically tired and yet light-hearted. When we got back to the tent we lit the propane lantern only long enough to take off our clothes again and arrange the bedclothes. There was an inexplicable tension between us that nibbled at the back of my mind but didn't capture my full attention. I just assumed that something was bothering her. After seeing that she was settled I shut off the lantern and lay down a couple of feet away.
(tale # 14) get full text ... Latex boots and nylon stockings gal.
Jill kelly shyla foxx.
My visitors arrived on time and before they started on their tasks I offered them a drink. Bill sat silently at the table while Stan seemed to hover about. I soon realised his purpose when he began to stroke my backside as I prepared their drinks. He told me how nice I looked and mentioned my cleavage letting his fingers trace along the edge of my blouse. My bra showed slightly and both men agreed how much more sexy it made it look. I didn’t protest when Bill stood and joined him – now they played with one tit each.
“All our friends that share our interest would be quite upset and jealous if they knew we were showing you the delights of spanking - I feel quite guilty about keeping you a secret,” commented Stan.
“You actually have a local group – and do you all get together and talk about it?” I was shocked and surprised at his comment.
“Yes, of course, we know a few women locally who indulge with us but sometimes we have to hire a willing girl if we want to enjoy our pastime. It’s not very often we meet someone like you.”
I was disturbed and asked, “Have you discussed me with them?”
“No, of course not – but they would be more nervous of you! They are very careful and wary not to attract any scandal. Have you considered the added excitement of being chastised in front of others?”
I was always amazed on how he asked the most intimate questions making them sound quite normal. When I answered no he sighed and thought it a pity saying how much more intense to excitement was and how it’s a chance to try other things. The thought intrigued me and as we talked and sipped our drinks and they played with my tits I found myself getting aroused imagining strangers witnessing me being spanked.
“So do these other men live around here?” I asked trying to sound mildly curious.
“All very near, yes,” Stan answered.
(tale # 15) get full text ... Jill kelly shyla foxx.
Ripe blonde nude outdoor.
I stood naked in the iron cage in the living room. My wrists cuffed to the heavy black bars above my head. Two maids—real Thai maids, not Mistresses—went about their business. What did they think of this? I could not tell. They would occasionally give me a curious glance, but spoke only to themselves in whispers.
My wait was longer than usual, but eventually I heard the click of Mistress’s steps as she came down the wood stairs. I had tried hard to prevent an erection in front of the maids, but the mere sound of my Mistress’s steps had my penis stirring. Then Mistress appeared.
It was not what I expected, but the effect was no less stunning. She was not wearing the fetish wear I was accustomed to. She was dressed like one of the many cute and sexy young Thai ladies I saw every day in Bangkok. She had on a rather short, simple skirt of light material and a white knit cotton spaghetti-strapped top that left just a hint of skin exposed between her top and skirt. Fleshed colored hose, a gold anklet on her right ankle, and open-toed white heels finished the effect that hovered between innocence and sexy seduction.
There was little innocent about her manner as she reached behind my head and pressed my face against the cage’s bars. She said, “I have a surprise for you tonight. We are going to a private little party. A couple of friends of mine invited me over. I have not seen them since I started this new line of work. I would not want to miss seeing them, but of course I did not want to cancel our session. You are coming with”.
Mistress managed to get my already rock hard penis into a harness and inserted a plug into my anus. The plug could vibrate at the command of a remote control, which Mistress placed in her purse. On the drive over I learned that her two friends had gone to school together with Mistress at the university. One had graduated with Mistress and was now working in an office. The other was still finishing her last year of studies. Of course I was ordered to follow my Mistress’s every command. She ordered me to act like her new foreign boyfriend until she told me otherwise.
When we arrived only Miss Tan, the student, was home. Miss Buu, the office worker, had called in and was stuck in traffic. She would be arriving home soon. Miss Tan was adorable looking. She had just gotten back from studying, and was still dressed in her university uniform white blouse and black skirt. Like many of the modern students, her blouse was very tight over her small, firm breasts, and her skirt was very short. She was barefoot, but I could picture her lovely feet in any one of the many pairs of shoes that were left just outside the apartment’s door.
Miss Tan brought Mistress and me a beer. We sat chatting, getting acquainted and waiting for Miss Buu to return home. Miss Tan sat opposite me. Her short skirt had ridden high up her thighs, but like all Thai ladies I had ever noticed she somehow sat modestly, not exposing herself. She was not exposed, but my imagination was running wild.
As we engaged in the usual getting to know you chitchat, Mistress would occasionally engage the vibrator’s remote. She did it, inevitably, while I was speaking. My voice would crack, as I tried to adjust to the sensation. I wondered what Miss Tan made of it.
We had almost finished our first beers when Miss Buu arrived. She, too, was remarkably cute. She was dressed in a short, but suitable for an office, gray skirt, a light blue blouse and black hose. I could not help staring as she slipped off her black pumps at the doorway and revealed her perfect little feet, with the hose’s reinforced toes and heels. Mistress, knowing how much I loved feet, knew exactly what I was thinking. Just as she was introducing me as her “special” boyfriend Henry she turned the vibrator on high. I somehow expected that, and was able to return Miss Buu’s greeting without undue embarrassment.
(tale # 16) get full text ... Ripe blonde nude outdoor.
Dressed in pantyhoses.
Christine looked at herself in the mirror. Her pretty face was the color of creme, her tears streaming around the gentle curve of her chin and dripping onto the porcelain sink. Why was she made to suffer so much humiliation, she thought to herself. Before she had a chance to answer herself mentally, however, the bathroom door burst open and James strode in.
"You cheating cunt," James shouted, "I'm not finished talking to you! Did you think you'd get away with it forever?" His broad shoulders heaved with anxiety, and his charcoal-black hair hung in his face, a few strands plastered to his brow by the spreading perspiration.
"James, please! I don't know what you're talking about!"
"The fuck you don't! I -saw- you out my window, you with your piss-colored cotton shirt laying next to you, your black skirt up around your slutting hips, and your pretty fucking pink panties around your fucking ankle!" His face was turning crimson, and his eyes bore into hers like daggers. "You were letting that nigger guy pound your pussy, right out in the open where I could see!"
At this, she could feel her dam of hatred burst. "I don't know what the -fuck- you're talking about, Jimmy! I've been in classes all day, and the only time I've had to fuck -anyone- was you at lunchtime!" She stopped to take a frantic breath, matching James's stare as she continued, her grey-green eyes burning holes into his. "If you think I would -ever- be a little whore like that to anyone but you, then you can go fuck yourself!"
Before James could respond, she pushed past him and ran out of the bathroom, out of their dorm room, and down the hall. She was only acutely aware of the tears that were streaming down her face as she pushed past the few people who were chumming around the building's exit. She ran for what seemed like hours, crossing the commons and not stopping until she reached the edge of the far fields. Finally, exhausted both mentally and physically, she sat down at one of the few picnic benches nearby, lowered her head onto the formica surface, and sobbed into her arms.
Only a few moments later, she could hear someone approaching from behind. Not about to take any chances, she tensed herself for the impending attack. She kept her head in her arms, listening to the soft footsteps as they neared her... Slower, slower still, and finally stopped. She swallowed back a lump in her throat, and nearly lost her mind when she felt a hand grasp her shoulder. Screaming, she leapt up as though a tiger on the offensive, lashing out with a hard slap. "Don't you touch me!"
The figure recoiled as the smack resounded over the empty field. "Ow, Jesus! It's me!" he cried out, but to no avail, as she was drawing her hand back for another slap. He managed to grab her wrist before she could launch her attack, and forced her head up to look at him. As their eyes made contact, he shouted again. "It's me! It's Pete! Get ahold of yourself, doll!"
Realizing that it's not her boyfriend, her rage turns to vulnerability as she wraps her arms around him, sobbing freely into his chest. He almost laughes as she does this, not quite knowing how to react. Choking back his natural reaction, he lets his arms fall freely around her, holding her against him. "Shh... It's alright. Whatever happens, I'm here now."
(tale # 17) get full text ... Dressed in pantyhoses.
Blonde mature wife spreading pussy in stockings.
This birthday thing started about 4 years ago. I was just about to turn 51. I have always done something on my birthday that I would not do the rest of the year. Like going out to a expensive place to eat. One year I went to New York and had dinner. But this year I was thinking of something different. At 51 I was thinking of doing something I only thought of doing. Going out and getting an expensive hooker. Not just any hooker, but one that has something extra. That was 4 years ago. I have been doing it ever since. Sue is her name. Sue is about 5'7" tall. About 135 and has a set of tits that most women only dream of. She is a white women and has a tan that she works on all year. Best of all she can pass with the best of them. This is what happen on my 55th birthday.
I called Sue and told her that my birthday was coming up. "Yes I remember you Bob, I was hoping you would call me. Now remember that we have to do lunch before hand to talk over what it is you would like this year." Sue and I have done this since day one. Lunch at a nice place downtown. A few drinks and then we would meet later on in the week or the next one. After lunch all was set. I was to take a change of clothing. Socks, underwear, shirt and pants to work and leave them. When she called me I would meet her for dinner and then a night of sex.
Just after my birthday I got a letter at work. 'Put your things in your car after work. Make sure you clean yourself, inside and out. Meet me at Fat Fish Blues at 5 tonight. If you can not, call me and let me know. I have cleared the night for you my love'. I got my bag and put it in the car. I also went and took my enema. I took one at 11 and then the last one at 3. This was a must with Sue. She had told me that if, "I'm going to use your ass it better be clean." And I must say she can use your ass.
I walked out of work and went to Fat Fish Blues. As I sat and had my drink I saw her walk in. Fuck did she look great. Her Red dress was open about half way down. You could see her breast as she walked in. The side of her dress was slit about up to the knee. Just looking at her this way, you would never know her secret. But I did. Sue walked over to me and kissed me on the cheek. "Hi Love. So I hear it is your birthday. Would you like to buy a lady a drink"? We sat and talked for about 20 minutes and was just about to get up when Karen walked up. I work with Karen and have thought of her in bed more then once.
"Hi Karen this is Sue. Sue this is Karen I work with her." They said hello to each other and talked for a few. Sue told Karen that it was my birthday and that we were just about to leave for dinner and... Sue just smiled. Karen just looked at me and smiled.
"Would you like to join us It might be fun. You look like your bi. Are you Karen.? Are you bi"? I thought I would die. Sue was asking her if she would like to have sex with us. And not only that but if she was bi. I just held my breath. I tried to smile but I couldn't. Sue looked at Karen and then bent forward and kissed her on the cheek. Her hand went to Karen's ass and pulled her towards her. Karen smiled and looked at me.
"I would love to. But I have a date and I do not think he is bi. So maybe another time. Okay"? With that she turned her head smiled at me and then kissed Sue right in the mouth. Her fingers went to Sue's cleavage. She ran a finger down it and then pulled back. "And yes I am bi, very bi and kinky. You two have fun." With that she walked away. I must have been as red as a beet. I paid the bill and we went to my car, then to Sues place.
Once at Sue's place I took a shower and as I did I could hear Sue doing the same thing in her bathroom. I put on a clean pair of underwear, socks, shirt, pants and then my shoes. I was just walking out when I saw Sue in the living room. The lights low, wine and her standing with a blue blouse on open to show her bra. A skirt that was just below her ass. Garter belt and stockings. I knew she had panties on. But I could not see them. She sat down and told me to come sit next to her. We had one drink and then I stood up to get another. As I stood in front of her she started. She started by unbuttoning my shirt.
"So it is your birthday, and you told me that you would like to take the next and last step. Just do what you like and you do remember the safe word. No matter what you say it keeps on going till I hear the safe word." Sue removed my shirt. She kissed my nipples and then bite them. Her lips and tongue went down to me navel. Then she bent and took off my shoes. Next came my socks and she kissed and sucked my toes. Sue would look up at me and smile. Then as she sucked my nipples I felt her hand unzip me. My pants fell and then I felt her remove my shorts.
(tale # 18) get full text ... Blonde mature wife spreading pussy in stockings.
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