Regular readers know this. You who are new to me don't. But these
stories are mostly true. The story and what happened and how I felt is
true. The dialog is how I remember it, but you and I both know that
memory is faulty when it comes to dialog. My name really IS Charlotte
and Paul's name really is Paul and yes, we really live in the Richmond,
Virginia area.
Most of the time, the names of anyone else has been changed but in
Leighton's case, I've used her real name and town because, well, she
asked me too.
Leighton, you see, is a fan. I don't now why it never really occurred to
me before her that I had fans. I have, after all, written a few stories
and put them "out there" for you and others to read. As close as I can
tell, a few thousand people have read each of them and that is just
totally mind boggling to me. It makes me feel very exposed, even more
than if I posted pictures. It's just delicious.
And yes, a few of you e-mail me from time to time and a couple of you
have even become friends, people I write to regularly and even share a
few pictures with now and then.
But fans? That was different in my mind. Singers have fans. Actresses
have fans, Novelists have fans I am a soon to be 43 year old woman
living (other than my sex life) a very ordinary life. I have a regular
job. I have a house. I'm divorced. I work in the yard. I am not model
perfect body wise and make no pretensions of perfection. I have, in
fact, the normal array of womanly insecurities.
The past three years, since I met Paul, have been an adventure in
learning and accepting who and what I am sexually and I have ended up
with a sex life that was unimaginable to me three years ago. Again, you
regular readers have shared the journey with me as I sporadically shared
the highlights in my stories. But fans? I never thought about it.
Until I started getting e-mails from Leighton.
She wrote me, she said, because she felt like she shared something of my
spirit, that as she read my stories, she felt something in her stir.
She was beginning to realize who she was, and what she wanted in a
relationship. And she wanted to have someone to talk to about it. It
wasn't, she said, something she could talk about with her friends and
family. She was from Columbia, South Carolina, a very conservative town.
"My friends would never get it if I told them that what I really want
in a relationship is the same kind of loving submission you give Paul.
She was very sweet, and very articulate, and we began to write
regularly. "I am such a fan." she said. "It's like talking to a movie
star for me, I want to have the life and relationship you have."
I was flattered. But I also know my path has had some bumps. My stories
only talk about the highlights, the hottest sexiest times. I wouldn't
suggest anyone use my stories as a role model. They are just my stories.
So we began to write back and forth. She was a delight. Smart,
Thoughtful. Just a couple of years out of college. A good job. She was
very in touch with herself, the result, she said, of going into therapy
while in college and sticking with it for three years. She seemed
remarkably together for a twenty three year old woman. Certainly I don't
think I was that together at her age.
Somewhere along the way, she sent me a picture. She was very shy about
it, but she was beautiful. She has a body like mine - full breasted,
narrow wasted, full hips. Dark hair, long and straight. Full lips and
that perfect skin of youth. I looked at her breasts and for the first
time, I think I understood why you guys are so attracted to a woman's
breast. They were perfect, full, high on her chest, with pink nipples
that were hard and pronounced.
"I've never taken a naked picture of myself before." she wrote. "I hope it's OK. I hope I look OK."
She was beautiful. I was almost afraid to send her a picture of me, but
Paul has taken a few that I feel good about, and I sent her one. We
began to share pictures along with our words. She would write me and
tell me how the shots I shared with her, often ones of my being tied up,
or with nipple clips, made her feel. She share what fantasies came to
her mind.
One day, she asked me if I could send her a picture of Pau'ls cock.
"I've read your stories and I've read your blog." she wrote. "And I know
you have an oral fetish. I think I might too, and I would so love to
see the cock that you worship so."
How could I resist? I send her one, then others, of his cock in my hand,
or between my lips. She was so enthusiastic in her praise. Her words
made me feel even more that I have something and someone special. She
was almost rapturous, and her rapture and desire fed my own. Lucky Paul
got more than the normal number of bow jobs for the next couple of
months,
She was also fascinated by my submission, She seemed to totally
understand that me, it's; not about Paul's making me be submissive and
dominating me in the stereotyped "Dom" role, Not, it's about my wanting
to give myself and my submission to him as a gift, my wanting to please
him by allowing him to push the boundries of our sex life. Because I
wanted those boundaries to be stretched, but on my own, I don't think I
would ever have taken the steps. But with him in the lead, taking me on a
sexual journey, his confidence gave me confidence, and I found myself
doing things at his "command" that I would have never done with anyone
else.
"I so know how you feel." Leighton wrote me one day. "I want to
experience that kind of giving of myself, and being at someone else's,
loving, tender command."
Then one day, she asked if I had shared her pictures and e-mails with
Paul. No, I told her. I had not. I had assumed they were private.
"Would you, please?" she wrote back. I could almost hear the little girl sound of her voice.
So I showed them, and the entire chain of e-mails. He reaction was just
what I could have predicted. He loved her look and that night, we
fantasized about having Leighton in our bed. The sex was hard and hot
that night. The next day, when she asked about his reaction, I told her
everything, about how his cock rose and swelled at the look of her, and
how, as we talked about her, his swollen cock pounded me relentlessly
until he came hard inside me. Yes, I assured her, he liked her just
fine.
Now, we had been writing and sharing our desires for nearly three
months. I felt like she was a little sister, a sexy little sister. And I
guessed I should have seen it coming. But I didn't.
The email read....."Do you think there is any possibility you and Paul
would have sex with me, for real? I so want to experience submissive sex
and I know you would treat me kindly. I want to experience it without
fear."
Now, I get guys writing me that all the time. Most of the time though,
they are one line wonders. This was a woman I had come to know, who was,
in truth, very sexy to Paul and to me. We had had sex with her on our
minds more than once. I had fingered myself imagining it was her more
than once. I love men most, but I HAD experienced a woman once and it
was good. And Leighton was something special, physically and as a
person.
I told her I had to think about it. But honestly, I didn't. I knew I
wanted to. I just had to gather my thoughts about it because I was
suddenly crazy in lust with the idea.
I called Paul. "Please?" I asked. "I know you always pick the people
we've played with before. But I really want to have sex with Leighton.
You can stay in control. You can tell us both what to do. I'll let her
have sex with you. Please? I'll do anything."
I don't think I had ever been so desperate. I can't tell you why really.
I just know that this young girl, with her soft and firm body, her
submissive spirit and deep desire to test her submissive nature against
reality had me crazy lustful.
"Get me her phone number." Paul said. "We'll see."
The next two weeks, I knew she and Paul were talking, but I was out of
the loop. It was between them. "Trust me." Paul said. When I asked
Leighton what was going on she only said "Trust Paul." I was going
crazy.
Finally, one Wednesday night, after Paul and I had finsihed making love
and were lying entwined in the afterglow, Paul said quietly, "You'll
need to pack for a trip this weekend. I'll pick you up after work. I'll
tell you just what to wear. We are going to Columbia."
Columbia, South Carolina! That's where Leighton lived.
I called her the next morning from work. Yes, it was all set up. We'd
meet Saturday night for dinner. We'd spend the night together. Paul had
told her just what to wear too, and she accepted that we would both be
at his command for the night. And like me, she was crazy at the thought.
"I can hardly function at work." she told me. I knew the feeling. I've
had it every time Paul let me know ahead of time that I was going to be
shared with someone else. And now both Leighton and I were experiencing
it.
The drive to Columbia was crazy. I was in my work suit and Paul had me
fingering myself for hours. I came like crazy. When we got into the
suite, he had me on my knees and I gave him a majrly loving blow job.
The next morning I woke up and there was sex again. The day dragged
along. About four, I began to get ready.
For me, getting ready for sex is like foreplay. The whole time I bathe,
do my hair, my nails, my makeup, I am thinking about the impression I
will make on the other person (or people.) Dressing is crazy, I seem to
feel the fabric more than you can imagine. I look at myself with eyes of
lust, and stop often as I put on my lingerie, my stockings, my dress.
This night, Paul had me in a black 1940's style cocktail dress. Very
pinup. Pencil skirt with a lowish cut bodice, with frills around the
collar. I wore my black brocade corset underneath, and Paul cinched the
corset to the point my cleavage was high and hard to miss. Black lace
stockings. I felt so deliciously trampy. I knew men would be looking at
me at the restaurant, but I was really thinking about what Leighton
would think. Would I fit the image she had of me? Was it too much? Not
enough?
We went downstairs and out the door to our car. Then to the restaurant.
He had reserved a table smack in the middle of the room. Eyes followed
me as I entered. I was so turned on. By the eyes.. By the look of lust
in Paul's eyes. In anticipation. We sat at the table and Paul ordered
champagne.
Then Leighton was at the door. I thought I would faint. Paul had dressed
her too. I could see the touches. Where I was in back and white, she
was in white. A summery white dress. High heeled white sandals. The
dress was sheer and you could see the white corset underneath. Behind
her, the light picked out her curves. The dress was unbuttoned a button
or two too law to be appropriate. I could tell she was uneasy. I was
too, the first time Paul had dresed me to show me off.
Paul rose and went to get her. He took her by the hand and began to lead
her to our table. I don't know what he said to her, but she laughed and
visibly relaxed. I was wet. Just like that, I was wet between my legs.
Paul brought her to the table and introduced us. We hugged, hanging on
to each other tighter than a normal meet and greet might indicate.
Don't ask me what we talked about over dinner. I remember I felt
relaxed, but aroused the whole time I felt very aware of my corset and
what I would look like when my dress came off. The wetness lingered,
because I wore no panties under the corset and dress. I was smooth down
there. If I knew Paul, she was too. The thought got me going all over.
I was very aware of all the men looking. I know she was too. I'd
experienced it before and I still get excited when I am dressed sexy in
public. But for her, it was a first time and she was almost glowing in
the admiration. There was a flush in her cheeks. And Paul was enjoying
it too. I could tell. Having all those men look at us and wish they were
him just made him smile with an enigmatic smile. He knew what was
coming was more than the men watching would believe, that what they
might fantasize about, he was going to experience.
Finally dinner was done. We had finished two bottle of champagne. Even
the coffee after dinner didn't take the buzz off. Paul rose. He reached
into his pocket and brought out two scarves. "Trust me." he said as he
went behind Leighton and tied the white one over her eyes. "Trust me" he
said, as he tied the black one around my head. Then, having us stand,
he led us from the room. I can't even imagine what people there were
thinking, or what the valet parking guys must have thought.
They brought our car, and Paul installed us both in the back seat. He
got in the driver's seat. "Feel free to kiss and explore, he said. Just
remember I'll be taking you through a lobby, so I'd suggest you leave
the clothes on,
Our first kisses were sweet and tender. Our first touches were
tentative. But emotion has it's own power and the kisses became
hungrier. Our hands became bolder. Then suddenly we stopped. Leighton
and I separated, breathless. Paul opened the car door, leading me out,
then reaching in for Leighton. He led us through the lobby, which fell
quiet as we walked through. I can't imagine what we looked like in our
corset enhanced, cleavage showing dresses and our lipstick smeared lips.
Frankly, at that point, I didn't care.
The elevator ride and the walk down the hall seemed to take FOREVER.
Finally we got to the suite. I realized that Leighton had shown amazing
trust in us. I at least knew what hotel we were in. She had come with no
idea. We entered, and Paul removed our blindfolds.
We were both rumpled, but she looked so beautiful in her white dress.
"Charlotte," Leighton's dress is lovely, but I think it's time you remove it.
I've undressed men before, but this was the first time I undressed a
woman. I was slow about it. Half awkward and half wanting to savor it.
Her chest rose and fell as she breathed heavily. Neither of us said a
world. I unbuttoned the back (It WOULD be buttons! One of Pau's touches
to extend the moment.), then lifted it over her head.
She was breathtaking. Once she had called herself a "wallflower" but she
wasn't at all. Her corset was only slightly cinched but her breasts
were so perfect they seemed to lift up on their own. And like me, Paul
had made sure there were no panties. She was shaved smooth. I pulled her
close and issed her tenderly. Her toungue flickered n and out of my
mouth
"Now, Leighton, your turn."
If I felt awkward, so was she. But my dress came off easier, again
probably on purpose. One long zip down the side and then over my head.
and we were both there, exposed in our corsets.
"Leighton. On the bed. On your back," She nodded and moved.
Paul went to our little black bag and pulled out silk ties. He handed me two.
How many times have I been tied with these? I could not begin to count.
We tied her, spread gently, not tight, on the bed. She was still, but
not quiet. "Oh god, Oh god, Oh god." she kept saying.
"She's all yours," Paul said. He sat calmly in a chair beside the bed,
but the bulge in his pants belied his calm. I could tell he was excited
as I was.
I began by unsnapping the front of her corset. She was beautiful in it,
but I wanted her prefect white skin exposed. He kept saying "Oh god, Oh
god" with each small unhooking until finally her corset fell open and
her breasts, still high and firm and impossibly beautiful, heaving with
her breath.
I tasted her right nipple. It was salty and musky. She stopped talking
and let out a low moan. I began to see why men like the fact that I am
vocal when they are having me. Her voice positively cried with pent up
lust and desire. I took my time with her nipple, feeling he rsqirm,
listening to her moan. She pulled at the ties but she could only move a
small amount.
I began to go from nipple to nipple, taking it between my lips soft and
deep, the way I like Paul to treat ine. She would cry out, a little
whimper, every time I moved from one to the other. My hands caressed her
side, her thighs, her flat belly as I took my time with her nipples.
Then she gasped and I felt her stiffen and she whimpered.
"Oh my God." she said again. "I had no idea."
"What? " I asked.
I'm not a virgin, but that was my first orgasm. It was so much more than I expected."
"We're not done." I told her. I began to kiss down her belly, then
kissed her thighs. She was trembling. So was I, I think. Finally, I
moved between her legs.
She was swollen and wet. My toungue found the prefect spot on her clit
easily and I was relejtless licking her. She cried out again, and then
again, and finally slumped. "Please," she whispered. "Please, no more.
Please, I have to please you. Please."
We untied her. She sat up and her corset fell off. She reached out and kissed me gently. "Thank you." she said.
"You're not done." Paul reminded her.
She nodded and moved behind me. She began to unlace the back of my
corset. (I had no snaps on the front.)l Not completely, just enough that
my breasts fell out, yet still cupped slightly by the corset. Paul had
thought of everything. I looked full and firmer than my 42 years as I
lay back on the bed.
"Now," Paul said, "Treat Charlotte exactly the way she treated you."
She tied me to the bed. Then carefully she began to kiss my nipple. She
was so gentle. Tender. IT was like a big tease. I was aroused, but I
could not get as worked up as she was. I shut my eyes and luxuriated in
the warm wetness of her lips on my nipple.
Suddenly I felt another set of lips on my other nipple. Paul! I know I
gasped. How could I not. Her, tender and slow. Him hard and hungry. It
was like someone had shot me full of sexual energy . I felt the tension
build up in me so fast it was frightening and I came, crying out in a
loud scream that I could hardly believe was me.
"Now," Paul told her. "Between her legs. Drive her crazy. Now."
Her tempo changed. It was as if his commands ignited her and she pressed
her face between my legs with energy, and began to lick and suck me
with passion. This time is was me crying out. My hand moved to her dark
head and pushed her harder against me, I was hungry for her. crazy
hungry and again, I felt that familiar rise. This one, I knew would be a
big one. It grew, and when it washed over me I thought I was going to
die, it was so powerful. I pulled on my ties. One of them broke loose as
I let it wash over me, gasping. Tears running down my face.
When I came down, Leighton was on her knees back between my legs, a very
satisfied look on her face. Her lips glistened with my juices. I came
down slowly, my chest heaving as I gathered my breath, when I heard Paul
call out.
"Leighton. You aren't done yet"
I turned my head to where he sat in his chair. He was unzipping his pants.
"Come here." he said, point to the spot in front of him.
She knelt. Suddenly looking very young again, unsure what to do.
"Charlotte. Tell her just how I like it."
I hesitated. Paul had shared me before. Several times. And I knew some
day I would have to let another woman have him. But I was unsure if I
was ready."
"Charlotte." he said, with just a hint more firmness in his voice. "Tell her."
I was helpless to resist.
"Begin by licking him. Lick his shaft. Slowly. Lick his cock head. Slowly."
I watched, almost paralyzed as she licked him. His cock, so beautiful
and firm, shaven and swollen, looked amazing. Her tentativeness aroused
me. I knew the feeling, that she was experienceing just what we talked
about, new sexual bounderies. I watched until I saw the first hints of
his hips starting to move. I knew that sign well.
"Now, take his cock head between your lips. Not hard. Let him pump you.
That's what he likes to do. He'll take your head and push it gently when
he is ready to go deeper. WHen he does, move closer and take just a
little more into your mouth. Let him be your guide. Don't worry. He
won't gag you. He's not cruel."
And I watched as this young, amazingly beautiful, perfect bodied woman
slowly got her face fucked by my man. I was jealous, excited, helpless,
all of these things. I watched his cock slowly inch deeper and deerp in
his mouth as his hips pumped her. His rythmn sped up. He pushed her
deeper. Not quite all the way. Maybe five inches of him. I could tell he
was close to coming. Part of me hated watching, part of me could not
help it.
"Should I come in her mouth, Charlotte?" I knew she would have done it.
She was as much under his control as I was with my ties. But I could
also tell she was afraid.
"No." I said, my voice husky. "Pull out. Shoot on her."
He nodded, pumping her faster and faster.then suddenly pulling back and
pulling her face from him. His cum shot and grazed her chin, and landed
on her neck, dripping down to her breasts. Her chest rose and fell. Her
hands reached up and touched his cum as it slid down her breast. A look
of amazement, like she could not believe what had just happened to her.
And she probably couldn't.
A few minutes went by. Paul's cock grew flacid. Paul gentlu moved her to one side of the chair.
"Stay there." he said.
He got up and untied me. He led me off the bed. Standing, kissing me
gently, he untied the rest of my corset, then stood back and let it fall
to the ground. He sat back in the chair. "Now," he said, "Show her how
it's done."
I so wanted to do this right. It had been exciting watching her suck
Paul, but he was mine, and I strangely felt I had something to prove. I
know sometimes, not all the time, but sometimes, Paul can be sucked hard
a second time. He claims he knows almost immediately after coming if he
has the second go around in him. I was hoping he knew this time and was
setting me up for the best. I took his half hard cock in my mouth.
I worship Paul's cock. Honestly, it's crazy how much I love it. I love
the taste, I love the feel of it (He shaves it smooth). I love how it
feels in my hand, in my lips, in me. It's the perfect sze. and the way
it responds to me is like a constant reassurance of how much he loves
and desires me.
For a minute or so, nothing happened, but then I felt it stir in my
mouth. I set on it in earnest then. I was hungry for him. And he
responded, growing harder and bigger. It's my feeling that on these
second go arounds, he's bigger than the first, but I've never been able
to prove it. But he feels bigger.
I glanced at Leighton, and she was staring. It was like she was mesmerized, watching.
Paul grew to his full size. And then he began to pump my face. Slowly.
Deeply In and out of my mouth. After three years, and lots of practice, I
know that I can take all of his nearly seven inches. I can take him and
once I have worked him in, I can let him totally face fuck me, all the
way, hard in hard out, until he comes. And that is what I could tell he
wanted tonight. He didn't hold my head. He knows I will simply do it for
him, that I will let him have his way with my mouth until he comes.
And he did, with one hard thrust deep into my mouth, the last little
dribs of cum from his first go around filling my mouth with that salty
taste.
I looked at Leighton again. She was crying and smiling. "That was amazing." she said. "I want to be able to do that some day.".
From there, we fell into bed. Paul got undressed and the three of us
spooned, Paul against my back, Me against Leighton's back. We slept.
Yes, there was sex the next morning. I won't go into detail on that
because it was something different, more spontaneous, less crazy. But
good. Maybe another story even. But the magic of this night was watching
another woman get initiated into submission the right way, where she
feels respected and protected, yet able to be taken and commanded. That
was a gift she gave us that night, and a gift we gave her. It was
amazing.
We stay in touch. She's still, two months later, sifting through her
emotions. I don't know if we'll meet again. Generally we don't with the
people we play with. It's a one night thing. But there is something
about her. With her, we might. We just might.