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Crossing The Street 2

Sonia is invited to Dana’s house. With conditions, of course.
"Took you long enough!" I blinked away the sleepiness that last night’s fitful slumber hadn't resolved. "I said to be at the phone at ten. Where were you?" Dana accused.

"I...I was just here... I..." My words trailed off, remembering last night's dinner, the distracted conversation, the DVR shows Mitch and I had watched that I couldn't recall, my brain occupied by yesterday's events. Tossing and turning all night as Mitch snored, blissfully unaware of what his proper wife had been up to that day. Oddly disturbing dreams that had woken me and vanished.

I couldn't tell her, couldn't explain how the things she’d made me do had affected me, how the shame and desire had thrilled me, how exciting and terrifying it had been. I had been both afraid and elated when Dana had agreed to take me under her wing, agreeing in desperation to do whatever she said. How could I describe how I'd felt to her? She'd lived so fully and I only...existed. How could I tell her how it had affected me to do her bidding, to lose myself in pursuit of my future self? I could barely understand the attraction I felt, how drawn to her I was, drawn to her life, pulled in like a moth to flame. Some kind of animal magnetism, but more...admiration for her, the desire to be like her, the lure of her life so powerful I couldn’t resist.

But I'd been drawn to her from the moment we’d met after she’d moved in, hanging around her, making a nuisance of myself, gazing out the window for a glimpse of her, going out, coming home. Seeing her friends arrive, waiting to see them leave, rumpled and happy. I stalked, made excuses to come over, just to talk, to be near her, her life, her bright shining heat. I’d finally confessed my desire to share her life, to know her life. She’d scoffed dismissively, resisting my entreaties for weeks until I fairly begged. Admit it Sonia, you did beg! You pleaded and whimpered and cried for her to save you from your own life, to show you what you were missing, what was going on beyond your limited vision!

When she’d finally conceded she’d made me promise, swear I’d do what she said, anything she said. She’d lured me with vague, dark promises of unimagined delights, of sensations and experiences unknown to me. And I’d put myself in her hands, trusting her beyond reason, accepting her commands. Yesterday. The horror and shame was still fresh, masturbating in my front window for her, at her command, letting her watch as she goaded and teased, thrilled at the danger, elated at the attention, aroused past my limits at the crude filthy and oh, so wonderful experience of pleasing her with my obedience and willingness, my surrender to my own lust.

If I didn’t do what she said she’d abandon me!

I couldn't risk her disappointment, couldn’t tell her how afraid I was, how the fear stimulated me, confused me. Before she’d called I'd been sitting at the kitchen table reminiscing, lost in my memories of yesterday’s event. My eyes surveyed the breakfast dishes and cold mug of coffee, still here long after Mitch had kissed my head and left for work. "I was...busy," I lied.

"Bullshit, Sonia," she spat angrily, "don't you fucking lie to me. Don't you ever lie to me!" I jerked a breath as my face reddened, the shame of being caught out excavating a hollow in my chest and wet pulse between my legs. "What were you doing?"

"Remembering," I whispered, hanging my head. "Yesterday."

"Good. That's a good girl." I could hear the smile in her words and felt my spirit lighten. The sleepiness vanished at the sound. "No lies, Sonia, not ever," she warned. "You know what happens if you lie to me?"

"Yes," I answered dutifully, crestfallen. "You'll...let me go. Leave me alone..." I trailed off.

"In a fucking second," she clarified. "I have no tolerance for bullshit, remember that. You do what I say, no questions, no hesitation. No lies."

"Yes, Dana, I promise, please," I whimpered, the hollow of shame expanding as my eyes closed.

"You have work today, Sonia?"

"No," I stuttered, confused by the change of track to something so mundane. My regular life. "No, not 'til tomorrow." I finished. She knew I worked as a cashier at the Safeway, I’d told her. She'd seen me there.

"Good." The word bit off, filled with promise and foreboding. "How's that bushy cunt of yours?"

I gasped at the coarseness of the derision. Her use of the c-word and her opinion of my pubic hair hit me like a punch and I gasped a shuddering breath. Her snorting laugh deepened my embarrassment.

"I guess it's still a giant hairy mess, then?" she inquired, sure of the answer. I nodded, silent. "Hello? Earth to Sonia? You still there?"

"Yes, yes, I'm here," I mumbled.

"Well? Is it a giant hairy mess, still?"

"Yes," I admitted softly. "Yes, it is."

"Uh huh," she confirmed. "What are you wearing, Sonia?"

"Uh, sweats. And a tee shirt."

"Panties, too, I'm sure."


"Take them off. Show me that awful hairy cunt, Sonia." I blanched, remembering the window and what she'd made me do to show my commitment. How I'd hated it, and loved it. My head swam.

"At the window?"

"Not this time. A picture. Take a photo with your phone," she instructed. "Take off your sweats and panties, and send me a pic of your awful hairy housewife bush. Now," she added. "Right now, do it!"

My breath went short as I struggled the sweats and panties off, still holding the phone in my hand as though it were my touchpoint, my connection to her, her life, the life I wanted. This is your future, she'd told me yesterday as I’d sucked my fingers clean. I couldn't let it go. I needed to know. I heard a tinny sound from the phone as I pushed the sweats past my ankles, freeing my feet, my bare ass resting on the polished wood of the kitchen chair. I fumbled with the phone and switched it to speaker.

"I'm sorry, Dana," I pleaded, "I didn't hear-"

"Are you ignoring me, Sonia?"

"No, no," I explained in a rush, feeling shameful juices spilling out of me, squishing under my bare cheeks. "I was stripping, I swear, I...I didn't have the speaker on."

"I said," she repeated slowly, "I want a nice full spread beaver shot. Got it?" I didn't answer. "Get your feet up on the edge of the chair and spread 'em. I wanna see that mess in all its awful glory."

I sheepishly obeyed, pulling my knees up, bracing my heels on the edge of the chair, my butt sliding in the cooling juices spilling from me. I thumbed the screen, switched on the camera and flipped it to selfie, and looked at the screen.

My embarrassment was met by a snickering from the phone. My hairy, overgrown pubes surrounded my...cunt, a vulgar unkempt caveman mess of damp tangled wiry weeds surrounding glistening lips that parted slightly. A shining pink slit of desire peeked from between them. My free hand crawled down my belly.

"Don't you touch it," the phone warned, and I yanked my hand back. "Just snap it and send it." And the line went suddenly dead.

I stared at the image of my hairy cunt and pressed the shutter button. The phone made that camera sound and the image stayed on the screen for a second. Hurriedly, I switched to text, attached the photo and pressed send.

And waited.

I held the position she'd left me in, my labia cooling in the open air. I waited. I breathed deeply, stilling my nerves. I waited more. I panicked. I fought the urge to touch myself. And I waited.

Finally the phone chirped and vibrated. I examined the screen to read her message.

Very good, slut. What a horror! You have two hours. I'll be out running errands. I want all that hair removed before I come back. Send me another pic when you're done. I want it smooth and bare, and no nicks or cuts, so do a good job.

I blinked, read it again. I glanced at the clock and then back at the phone. Two hours. I looked down between my legs, imagining haw it would look, how it would feel. What Mitch would say! Oh, my God, what will he think? What will I tell him? The phone chirped again.

Do a good job and I'll show you something new. I'll rock your world.

I nearly swooned, my imagination blazing with possibilities and promise. I made a mad scramble out of the chair to the bathroom, my damp heel leaving a smear on the hardwood floor.

Ninety minutes and two new blades later I stood in front of the bedroom mirror, admiring the hairless area between my legs, fighting the urges that tried to overwhelm my obedience. I have to check, part of my brain cajoled. You've checked it three times already, another part countered. She said don't touch it! But I was already squatting, spreading myself for examination. I have to make sure, I explained to myself. In the mirror my fingers traced the shape of me, checking for stubble, for stray hairs and missed spots. I watched myself as though it were another person and not me stroking my shaved cunt. A different woman, a stranger, touching herself, showing me her beautiful labia, her glistening slit, her juicy, open hole of need. She stroked the full, swollen lips, stroked the place beneath and behind that had never felt unhindered air. She slid her finger further back, checking the wrinkled rubbery skin, clean and soft. She slid her finger up, allowed her fingers to touch the opening where there was never any hair.

It wasn't me. It was her. Her finger came away wet and shiny, and the image stirred me, a thrilling erotic vision of naughty boundaries being crossed.

I looked at the image of my cunt, studying, seeing it as if for the first time. So different, so...beautiful. Sexy, attractive, seductive. My fingertip slipped into my mouth as I examined every smooth inch of skin, seeing colors, patterns, textures. The creases outside my lips. The tiny roll of flesh covering my clit. I sucked the sweet drop of my elixir from my finger and pulled it from my lips with a pop. I fought the urge to touch myself again and saw the clock on the nightstand. Twenty minutes left. I smiled at the naked woman in the mirror.

I'll be early, I thought as I scurried to my feet, she'll be proud of me. I scampered naked to the kitchen, gathering up my phone and checking for messages on the way. She's promised to show me something, I reminded myself, smiling so hard it ached. If I'm early, will she treat me special, show me more? Nearly giddy at the possibilities, I resumed my seat in the kitchen chair, naked and bare. The wood was cool on my back and ass, but heat wafted up from between my legs, bathing my chest and face in my moist scent. I can smell my cunt, I realized. I worked my feet up to the edge, the backs of my thighs pressed tightly against my heels. Switching on the camera and turning it to selfie, I held it in front of me, and spread my legs.

I clicked, saw the image. I typed the words.

My shaved wet cunt.

My fingers trembled as I attached the photo. A thrill of delight and pride rippled from my feet to my scalp as I pressed the send button.

I sat at the table, willing her to answer, flipping back and forth between the before and after pictures, memorizing the difference. I thought of Mitch, and what he would think. I'd have to tell him I did it for him, of course, that it had been an impulse. I wondered if I should delete the photos. The phone gave me my answer.

Very nice, Sonia. Don't delete the pics.

I couldn't imagine why she wanted me to save them, but I dared not disobey. Not when she'd promised to show me something! Not when I was so close!

The phone announced another message, telling me she'd be home in twenty minutes. I wondered if I should get dressed, but reasoned she would have told me to, so I sat, naked and fidgeting and wriggling on the kitchen chair, trying and failing not to think about touching myself. I had the good sense to put my feet back on the floor. I looked at the breakfast mess, still here, waiting for me to clean it up. I promised myself I'd get to it, and watched the minutes tick by on the clock, lost in thought and sultry daydreams, thinking of the happy, satisfied looks on the faces of Dana's friends, wary of the calculating expression Dana sometimes wore.

My world was about to open into hers. She would let me in, show me things, she'd said. Make me do things. I recalled yesterday's stunt at the window, the overwhelming excitement at the fear of discovery, the need it had ignited, the desire to please her so she would show things. I looked down between my legs. Well, that's new, I told myself proudly. I wondered again what to tell Mitch.

The phone rang and I snatched it up off the table breathlessly, seeing her name.

"Dana?" I asked pointlessly.

"Duh," she snipped. "Are you dressed?"

I panicked. Should I have dressed? Did I miss something?

", I'm..."

"Good. Why not?" It was a test! And I was going to pass!

"Because you didn't tell me to?" I answered with a timid question, not daring to embrace my pride at my tiny success.

"Very good, Sonia, you might be smarter than I thought." I stood then, anxiously shifting from foot to foot, oblivious of being naked in the kitchen. "I want you to put something on and come over here."

"Okay, I'll go get-"

"I wasn't finished, dear," she cut me off with a condescending tone. "I want you to dig into your closet and find your sexiest heels. Something dressy and stylish. Can you handle that?"

I thought of the jumbled mess of shoes and clothes at the bottom of my closet, under my bed, in the spare closet, trying to recall where I would find those black and sparkly ones I'd worn to Mitch's holiday dinner last year. I bit my lower lip.

"Yes, I can. I will."

"Good. And let's see...oh, I know," she snickered, "put on that natty bathrobe you were parading around in yesterday."

"Uh...okay, I guess..." I answered, astonished that she'd want to see me in that, after she'd ridiculed it so vehemently. "What else?"

"Nothing else!" she snapped, and I jerked the phone from my ear. "Just the robe and the shoes!" I blinked at the phone. "Is there a problem, Sonia?" Her challenging tone told me my response was no, but my brain was whirling with problems.

My old yellow robe? It was more of a beach cover, really, from before I was married. It was for wearing over other things! Practically transparent, the tie sash long lost, and it barely came down past my butt! I wore it around the house, over my tee shirt and shorts, just for, well, for comfort, really.

"Hello? I didn't hear an answer!" Her obvious irritation sharpened the question. The demand.

"No," I squeaked, emotions whirling. "No, no problem, Dana," I assured her, silently begging her continued direction. "I'll...I'll be right over."

"See that you are, and bring your phone" she snipped, and the phone went dead. I stared at the lifeless rectangle in my hands as my heart thumped heavily. I took several deep breaths and carried myself on unsteady legs to the bedroom.

I had to drag half the shoes out from under the bed to find the strappy sparkly heels. I must have been quite a sight, naked, on my knees, ass in the air, struggling to pull shoes out, heaping a pile of footwear I hadn't worn in years on the bedroom floor. But I found them both and sat on the floor, inserting my bare feet, loving the way they looked as I had when I'd bought them last year. Strapped in, I struggled to my feet and stepped to the mirror to admire them, and found myself admiring my naked sexy body instead. The heels lifted me, enhanced my calf and thigh, made me stand straighter, tightened my butt. I turned, side to side, gazing at the image and astounded at the changes in me. Finally, looking full front, I remembered Dana was expecting me, and snatched the robe off the hook on the back of the bedroom door, and slipping it on, returned to the mirror.

My face went red as a beet and I shook, trembling with fear. There was almost no difference! Anyone looking closely could see I was naked underneath! My nipples showed through, my skin showed through, my legs, for as good as they looked, were completely bare and exposed. My trembling hands struggled to hold the flimsy garment closed at my breasts and waist. I turned slightly, and noticed that pulling it too tightly made the back rise up, exposing the bottom of my butt! And when I turned back, the bottom edges in front swirled out, flashing my shaved cunt!

I stood there, turning and watching, trying different handholds, mortified of walking across the street to Dana's house so...undressed. I bit my lip and strangled a desperate moan. In the back of my mind was the ticking clock, the passing of time, the impatient tone in Dana's voice. If I hesitate, I reprimanded, I'll never know...

I gritted my teeth and straightened my spine, hoping to bolster my resolve. I picked the best placement of hand grips I could find and turned for the hallway. Passing the kitchen I stopped, remembering the phone. No pockets. I'd have to carry it, struggling to decide which hand could least afford to lose its grip on holding my robe closed, and settled on the top. Clutching the phone, I managed two fingers to hold the top closed and keep my breasts from popping out. I stepped carefully to the door, my fear of exposure making my legs wobbly, my chest a swelling pit of foreboding. Walking slowly I could control my legs, but it took forever to cover the distance to the door. If I walked quickly, the thin fabric pulled and rose and threatened to open and completely expose me.

Then I was at the door, staring, hands clutched at the robe, no hands free to turn the knob. I nearly quit, feeling defeated at my inability to decide, stymied by a doorknob! I finally chose my left hand, releasing the fabric covering my lower half, and reached for the brass handle. I pulled it open and stepped out, feeling the outside air brush up under my cover and caress my bare, exposed cunt. With a gasp I froze, cunt pulsing and leaking, then forced myself to turn and pull the door closed before clutching at the fabric again, pulling it tight around me. With a slow, steady breath I turned and took the first tentative paces, down the front steps, face afire and cunt steaming, nipples crinkled and hard. One, two, three, four, and I was on level ground. I looked across the street at the path to my future.

It seemed miles, pulling back from me as my vision tunneled. How many steps? Fifty? A hundred? Two hundred? It seemed further the longer I stood and stared. I trembled with fear, feeling exposed in my short thin robe, and embarrassed to be wearing it with such dressy shoes. I must look like a slut, I thought. My fingers seemed to lose their grip as the tremors rippled through me. Inhaling with panic I focused on the task, pulling the garment tight, covering my nakedness.

Was Dana watching me? I couldn't raise my head to find out. My lower lip quivering, I took my first tentative step, then a second, and a third, approaching the intersection of my walk and the sidewalk. I passed the rhododendron at the edge of the yard and stepped gingerly across the sidewalk and onto the grass, my legs wobbling as the spike heels sank into the soft earth. I lifted my feet higher to pull them free and stepped to the curb as a small breeze wafted down the street, rustling the leaves. I felt the cooler air brush across my ass cheeks. Oh, my God, is my ass showing? I turned my head, looking over my shoulder to peek behind me, twisting and seeing my bare butt flesh jiggling as I strutted in the heels. I am a slut! I thought, panicked and frantic at my exposed body. Thinking quickly, I released the top of my robe to reach behind me and pull the back down, covering most of my butt and pulling it tightly down my front. I looked down to see my cleavage exposed in a wide swath of skin and my erect nipples poking through the flimsy fabric, darker than my skin and shockingly obvious.

I tried to move my feet more quickly, taking small steps so as not to jostle my clothes. It made my breasts jiggle luridly and I slowed again, feeling like a stripper between sets, imagining strange eyes watching my progress. I felt cooling on my legs and pulled my lower hand down before understanding that there hadn't been a breeze. My cunt, I gasped silently, is leaking down my legs! I was horrified and my face reddened with shame at my arousal as the heat increased inside me, swirling up to my belly, making my chest tighten and my heart flutter.

I was halfway there. No turning back now. I can do this, I reminded, and she will show me something. My libido took up the chorus. And it's getting you hot and steamy, you eager slut! Your dripping cunt and aching nipples tell everyone! My eyelids fluttered at the truth of it. Yes , I answered, yes, I'm horny, and walking practically naked to Dana's house is turning me on! Because anyone can see me, because it's forbidden and naughty, I added in my head.

And , the voice goaded, because she told you to do it!

I nearly collapsed with weakness at the thought. My footsteps stuttered and my hands shot out, the one behind me with the phone slipping loose as I pitched forward. My robe flew up in back as I instinctively put my hands out to break the fall my body felt was imminent and unavoidable. My robe flew open as I clutched at air, arms waving and awkwardly stepping under myself to regain my balance. I avoided the tumble, but as I stood up straight I saw my entire front exposed to the world! In the middle of the street! My pale breasts fairly glowed in the sharp sunlight, and my shaved cunt, bare and white and throbbing, leaked like a faucet. I whimpered and stopped in my tracks, looking up at Dana's house in desperation.

She was at her front door, watching me through the window, laughing and leering. I fumbled ineffectively for my insufficient cover, managing to hold the phone and cover one breast. The other jiggled gaily as I hurried my pace, not caring anymore about prying eyes, ignoring my exposed butt wobbling behind me. My empty hand grabbed frantically at the edges below my belly, trying to cover me and failing, pulling only one side across my nakedness as the other flapped freely with my hurried motion. I stepped quickly across the rest of the street and looked up at Dana, grinning wickedly and making a lewd gesture between her legs, like a crude man grabbing his crotch. I looked down to see my cunt, facing her from the edge of her walkway, and hung my head in shame. No questions, no objections, I reminded myself, or you'll never know.

I steeled my nerves, raised my head to face her and dropped my arms to the sides. My robe fell open and showed me to her as I walked up her path to the steps. I pretended to have dignity when all I really felt was determination and a craven lust. I took the steps slowly, trembling, wanting not to fall and shame myself, to show her I could do what she wanted, that I was worthy of her attention and time.

She opened the door, swinging it out towards me as I reached the landing. "Nice parade, Sonia," she sneered with a laconic chuckle. "Get in here before you cause a scandal." Head still high and proud of my accomplishment, I silently stepped past her into the hallway. "Make a left," she called as she closed the door behind me, "in the den. And wait." I turned left to see a sparsely furnished room of mismatched but clean furniture. I stepped in and stopped, nervous, waiting for what might happen next, jittery with anticipation and the fire between my legs. I faced the back of a lacquered ladder-back wooden chair that faced an easy chair. The sofa on my right faced the flat screen on the last wall. I felt my breath coming in short pants and tried to inhale more deeply, struggling for control, my hand sweaty on my cellphone.

I heard her enter, her voice in that careless nonchalance I was becoming accustomed to. "Took you long enough," she observed as she came around me. She stepped between me and the wooden chair, facing me, a smirk curling her lip. "I thought you'd never get here, you walked so slow." She cocked her head and her eyes travelled my body, bare and exposed. "Not bad, Sonia. Lose the robe." She held out her hand and I shrugged it off, handing it to her. She wore a loose tee shirt and sweat pants, the tie strings hanging from her waist. On anyone else it would have been frumpy. On me, certainly. But on her, the way she stood, her cocky confidence, her assuredness, her dark eyes and full lips...she made it sexy.

"You said..." I managed.

"Yes, yes, I said I'd show you something, in a minute. First," she asked, stepping into me until her body was inches from mine, "tell me. Did you enjoy your little parade?" Her voice turned soft and seductive, slightly raspy. "Did you like showing your naked body off to the neighborhood? Hmm?" She stepped closer still and I gasped as her hand pushed between my thighs. Her eyes narrowed. "Did your lonely housewife cunt get all wet?" Fingers parted my lips and her mouth opened in a devilish grin. "Oh, it did!" I blushed with shame and lowered my eyes.

"Please, Dana..."

"Ooh, it's like a swamp in there!" She laughed as my face heated, and she pulled her fingers free. When I opened my eyes her hand was in front of my face. "You want this, Sonia? You wanna suck your cunt off my fingers?" She rubbed them across my lips roughly and my tongue stabbed out, making her laugh. She pushed them into my mouth.

"Suck them clean, and I'll show you something hot," she hissed. I felt her breath on my face even as my lips closed around the slick digits, sucking my essence from her. "There, that's a good girl," she cajoled. I blushed again, fingers tight on the phone, but kept sucking and licking until I could taste only her skin.

She patted me on the cheek, leaving wet saliva traces on my heated skin. "Good girl." Her voice turned nonchalant again. "Gimme your phone," she ordered and I handed it to her. She took my hand. "Come with me, and I'll show you your first treat."

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © This piece contains adult oriented material not intended for minors, and is the copyright property of the author. The use of any material in part or its entirety for profit is strictly prohibited. Copying, reposting, publication or duplication without the express permission of the author is prohibited.

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