Since you won't believe me, I won't tell you that this is a true story and that the names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent...
As is usually the way, the wedding ceremony was an absolute bore. My wife’s cousin, having finally persuaded her unfortunate fiancé to put a ring on her finger, had done everything possible to make sure her moment in the spotlight lasted as long as possible. My boredom grew by the minute as the production grew ever more elaborate, and pretty soon I had stopped paying attention altogether.
My eyes wandered across the rest of the congregation…there were certainly plenty of attractive women here to admire. They were, of course, all dressed up very nicely; hair and make-up just so, outfits carefully selected. Competing with each other, and with the bride, without doing so too obviously. They all wanted to look good today, they all wanted their share of the attention, they all wanted compliments. And why not? Good for them. Most of them had few enough excuses to make such an effort, and I, for one, was most appreciative. Of course, my appreciation would remain unspoken, but still it was there.
I have to admit that my wife Jennifer looked really good too, and I had told her so as we left the hotel earlier. She’s lost a lot of weight in the last year, and was grateful for an opportunity to show off her newly toned figure. Her dress was soberly coloured and patterned, not too ostentatious, but showed off a tantalising hint of cleavage, plenty of leg, and accentuated her natural curves. Best of all she was wearing, for the first time, the rose pink sandals I had bought for her the month before. They were stunning, very high, but the pretty colour and the delicate straps made them elegant rather than tarty. I love the way high heels make a woman look, and these not only made her look taller and longer legged, but also revealed her cute feet, pedicured the day before and looking perfect.
I’d seen them on sale as I walked through a department store, and couldn’t resist. I knew she’d look great in them. Unfortunately, my wife doesn’t like to indulge my little shoe fetish – “You’re supposed to find me attractive, not the shoes,” she always complained when I asked her to wear sexy footwear. And so, they had remained in their box ever since. Until today.
Mischievously, she had opened the box and strapped them on rather slowly and seductively this morning, while wearing only her bra and panties. She knew perfectly well she was turning me on by doing this. Better late than never, I’d thought to myself, silently hoping she’d treat me by keeping them on when we went to bed that evening.
Not wanting to push the issue, I’d just told her that she looked very beautiful. She thanked me and told me I looked good too. We kissed, and smiled, and climbed into the car.
And so, yes I was instinctively admiring the other women there (and, since I was in church, doing so with that delicious combination of guilt and exhilaration that Catholics feel when irresistibly drawn to doing something they know they shouldn’t). But it’s not like I was wishing I could be with any of them. Jennifer looked great to me, and frankly I couldn’t wait to get her back to the hotel and fuck her all night long. I made a mental note to tell her so once she’d had a glass or two of wine. It would turn her on. At least, I hoped it would.
At long last, the wedding ended and we filed outside. The bride continued her preening – posing for photographs, throwing the bouquet, air kissing every last member of the congregation and so on. Jennifer, indulging her new found interest in photography, took my camera from my shoulder and wandered off to get some shots (presumably for purposes of boring disinterested people silly at a later date). Meanwhile, I stood vacantly, glancing at my watch occasionally, enjoying the warmth of the sun and looking forward to a cold beer at the reception.
My Mother-In-Law, Janet, suddenly appeared at my side. She and her husband Greg were staying at the same hotel as Jennifer and I, the same place the reception was being held, so we’d all come together in my car for the service. Now, Janet is a walking contradiction. Having just turned fifty a month ago, she is still very attractive and exercises every day to maintain her shape. Her manner is flirtatious – all batting eyelashes, girlish giggles and laying her hands on your arm or your chest to accentuate a point. And she dresses very nicely – certainly not provocatively, but not demurely either. Fitted jackets over tight tops, knee length skirts, sheer nylons, patent leather shoes. That sort of thing. Sexy, but in a restrained way.
(Confession time: I happen to know that Janet was not averse to wearing something more obviously sexy underneath those outfits. I’d been left at their house alone for an hour for reasons I forget, and found myself having a quick look in her underwear drawer. I found nothing outrageous, of course, but plenty of silk and satin and lace in black and red and purple. Designed for seduction rather than comfort, certainly.)
And yet, despite all that, she is very straight-laced in a lot of ways. Deeply religious, a pillar of the community. She visits the elderly. She arranges flowers in church. She gasps, actually gasps, when she hears anybody use a swear word. She literally leaves the room if she is watching a movie and a sex scene begins. She wears a crucifix around her neck, and rubs it gently when confused or stressed. I watch her do this sometimes, and think about the contents of her underwear drawer, and I can’t quite align the two. A walking contradiction, and here she was beside me.
We exchanged the usual pleasantries. The bride looks beautiful, we said (she didn’t). The weather is glorious, we said (it was). We were looking forward to dinner, we said (we were).
“And Jennifer’s looking so great these days, isn’t she?” asked Janet.
“She really is.” I agreed.
“It’s a great outfit too. I love those shoes she’s wearing! They’re gorgeous, and what an unusual colour.”
“Yes, they’re great.” I replied – a little offhand, as if I’d not really noticed. The last thing I needed was an embarrassing conversation about my predilection for sexy footwear.
“You men are so lucky,” she went on, “not having to totter about in silly shoes all the time. I mean look, they’re hardly practical are they?” She indicated her own feet.
She too was in heels, in this case black sandals over bare feet. She often wore heeled shoes, but I’d never seen her in anything quite so high before. And here she was inviting me to have a good long look…I wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity. Her feet looked great now I thought about it, soft smooth skin, cute little toes, her toenails perfectly painted in a dark red.
It seems strange to say in retrospect, but this was genuinely the first time I’d felt aroused looking at my Mother-in-Law. She is indisputably attractive; pretty face, large green eyes with an intriguing sparkle in them, small, pert breasts and shapely legs. She is quite short, but perfectly proportioned. I’d just never really thought of her that way. Even my explorations of her lingerie were out of bored curiosity rather than lascivious desire. She was, after all, my Mother-In-Law, and one is not supposed to think such things.
But, as I looked at her legs and feet, here I was…and I was most definitely thinking such things.
“…not that he notices…”
Janet was still talking.
I realised I’d been staring at her shoes and feet for rather a long time, and hadn’t been listening to a word she said.
“Sorry, not that who notices?” I asked.
“Greg, of course. I always try to look nice, and he never even notices. He says women look silly trying to walk in heels. Honestly, would he prefer me to wear wellies?”
“I think they look great. Your shoes I mean. I mean, I think you look great. In them.”
She looked up, surprised at the stammered compliment. I wondered for a second if I’d gone too far somehow, if my sudden attraction to her had become too obvious.
She broke into a wide smile.
“Thank you, Steve. That is so sweet of you to say. You’ve quite made my day.”
“You’re welcome.” I replied, simply, smiling back.
Our eyes met, each gazing silently at the other. It probably only lasted a second or two, but it felt meaningful, as if we were assessing the other, maybe searching for an answer to an unspoken question, maybe trying to reassure each other. Something. Janet dropped her gaze first, looking a little flustered.
“Anyway…yes…anyway, yes her shoes look great. I wonder where she got them,” she spluttered.
“Oh I can tell you that, I bought them. She didn’t even like them that much at first, but I thought they would look good.”
“Ah so it’s you who has the great taste in shoes, is it? Perhaps you should take me shopping one day, eh? Be my own fashion consultant.”
God the thought of shoe shopping with my Mother-In-Law was suddenly about the sexiest thing I could imagine. Finding all sorts of sexy styles for her to wear, and watching her sliding them on and off her pretty feet. Maybe helping her try them, caressing her ankle. Just a momentary image of this in my head made my cock begin to stiffen, I could feel it growing. I told myself to snap out of it. It was just a silly fantasy and I had to stop being so easily turned on, or I’d embarrass myself.
I tried and failed to think of a response that neither discounted the possibility, nor sounded too openly flirtatious.
“Sure,” said quietly and hesitantly, was the pathetic best I could come up with.
Janet looked at me again, a little quizzically, and then broke back into her beautiful smile.
“Come on you,” she said, gently laying her hand on my arm, “looks like they’re almost done here. Let’s round up the others and go get a drink.”
“Good idea,” I replied, “let’s do that.”
Having found my wife and her father, we all walked back to the car together. Jennifer and I hand in hand, Janet and Greg walking ahead of us. And the whole time, my eyes were glued to Janet, the curve of her hips, the way her dress flattered the contours over the small of her back and her arse, how toned and tanned her legs looked, her slender ankles and feet as she walked confidently in the high stiletto heels.
Time and again I told myself to think of something else. That this wasn’t going to happen and thinking about it did nobody any good. Yet I couldn’t tear my eyes away.
Back at the hotel, the reception was only a little more entertaining than the wedding itself. I was at a table with some terribly dull people, and their irritating children. They were friends of the groom, and no more attractive or charming than he was himself. Jennifer sensed my irritation and gave apologetic smiles every so often. I did my best to keep the conversation going, but it was hard work all the way.
Perhaps fortunately, my in-laws were placed at a different table, somewhere behind me, and I could neither see nor hear them. My earlier arousal faded slowly, and the thought of it seemed odd in retrospect. I couldn’t quite believe how turned on Janet had made me, and I was sure it would never happen again. I permitted myself a slight smile at the thought of it, earning a quizzical look from Jennifer. I just said I would explain later…which, of course, I didn’t have the slightest intention of doing.
Then, after the meal, the interminable speeches. I was considering myself lucky that at least I was staying in this hotel, didn’t have to drive, and could at least enjoy a few drinks to make the evening go a bit more easily. Finally, by around six o clock, we were excused from our tables and could go and relax a bit in the bar while the hotel set up the room for the evening’s disco.
I found a comfortable sofa, Jennifer plonked herself beside me and we were soon joined by her Uncle and his two teenage sons. They were much, much better company; I was laughing and talking more, relaxing with a drink in my hand and feeling hugely relieved to have survived the worst parts of the day. I caught a glimpse of Janet, talking animatedly with her sister, a glass of champagne in hand. Strange as the feeling had been, remote as it now seemed, my arousal had certainly been real. A shadow of it remained. A flicker. She did look really good; my eyes were still drawn to her, tracing over her body, imagining how it looked under the dress, how it would feel to run my fingers over it, my tongue over it.
“…is that ok, Steve?”
This was Jennifer. Once again I’d been caught out staring at Janet and not paying attention to what was being said.
“Sorry, babe, what was that?”
“I need to change...these shoes are killing me, I can’t possibly dance in them, and I need a less low cut top too, otherwise I’ll be popping out all over if I get carried away jumping around. You know what I’m like.”
My face obviously gave away my disappointment, and I got a conciliatory smile in return. She leant in close and whispered,
“Aww I’m sorry…if you’re good I can put them back on later, eh? When we go upstairs?”
That sounded promising, and I kissed her on the lips.
“Of course…sure, you go ahead and change. I might grab a quick shower myself in a bit, put on something a bit cooler.”
“Alright sweetie…you want to come up with me or stay here for now?”
“You go ahead, I’ll keep your Uncle Gordon company. See you in a bit.”
She kissed me and excused herself. I watched her go and, as she left the room, I felt my gaze move instinctively back to Janet. Janet, who was looking directly back at me. Who was walking over to me. Who was now sitting beside me on the sofa, crossing her legs, slowly and gently rotating her ankles so her feet brushed the air tantalisingly close to my knee. My earlier arousal flooded back, stronger than ever.
She wasn’t talking to me, wasn’t looking at me, she was talking to her brother and nephews. But something in her body language made me feel she was communicating something to me. A softness in her pose, the way she held her body, how closely she’d sat to me, how she positioned her legs and feet. Flirting with me. She was flirting with me, without saying a word. Did she even know that’s what she was doing? I wasn’t sure. Maybe this was all in my head again, an overactive imagination, an overactive libido. Be careful, I reminded myself. Be very careful.
I tried to remain casual, taking part in the conversation, laughing along with their jokes, even as I felt myself inch slowly closer to her, by tiny degrees. Trying to look relaxed, I’d shuffle slightly in my seat, repositioning myself to be more comfortable…but really, really I was trying to move half an inch closer. I was flirting back. Did she know that too?
Of course the peculiarly wonderful thing about the situation was there was no fear of getting caught. If my wife came back and found me as cosy and close as this on a sofa with any other woman, there would be questions asked, accusations made. But this was her mother; this was my mother in law. Of course there was nothing flirtatious there. Any such thoughts would be laughed away as soon as they entered the mind.
And, sure enough, my wife did come back a few minutes later. And, far from objecting to me sitting so close to her mother, she even gave a satisfied smile when she saw us.
“How lovely to see you two getting along so well,” was the unspoken message.
Jennifer sat on the sofa too, but not beside me, at the other end, leaving Janet in the middle, beside me, closer than ever. Touching each other. Our hips and upper thighs pressed together. She crossed her legs over the other way and rotated slightly towards her daughter, and now the soft backs of her thigh was against me, the subtle curve where it became her buttock. I rotated slightly too, so that more of my leg was against hers. I could feel she was warm. Although space on the sofa was limited, I was sure she didn’t need to be quite so close to me. I was sure she was choosing to be.
My mind was racing. Did she have any idea how much she was turning me on? Did she have any idea how naughty she was being? With Janet, you never knew. Was she the naïve churchgoer who had no idea of the effect her actions had? Was she the flirtatious giggler who thought it was fun to be teasing, but that it was just a silly game? Or was she the naughty, sexy woman who bought and wore seductive lingerie, who wished her husband would appreciate her sexuality more, who needed to know she could turn a man on still, who needed a man to tell her how attractive she was, how aroused she made him, who would be hard for her, who would let her feel his hardness inside her?
Be careful, I said to myself once again.
My mind and heart racing, I was finding this hard to take and needed some space.
“I’m going to grab a quick shower, guys. Just before the disco starts, if you’ll excuse me?”
“Of course baby, take your time,” replied Jennifer.
The others said they would see me after, all except Janet, who remained silent, a peculiar and amused smile on her lips.
“See you soon, then,” she finally said with eyebrows raised, eyes wide, smiling lips.
I stood and walked to the stairs, somehow resisting the urge to look back.
A few minutes later, and I was in the shower, the bathroom full of steam from the scalding hot water. Wash it all away, I told myself. These silly thoughts, wash them away before they get you in trouble. Well, it’s a funny thing with thoughts, the more you try not to have them, the more insistent they become. Asking myself to not think about Janet, about how sexy she looked, about how she had looked at me, how she had sat close to me…I may as well have asked myself not to breathe. My cock grew large and hard as the water ran over me. There was no denying it.
“Oh for god’s sake…have a wank and get it over with,” I said to myself aloud.
Then paused…I’d heard something. Listening carefully; there was somebody in the bedroom. I turned myself to the wall, thinking if Jen walked in I wouldn’t have the embarrassment of explaining my obvious erection. I looked at the door, breathing a sigh of relief that I’d locked it.
“Hi babe, you alright?” I called through.
I heard her reply but couldn’t make out the words.
“Sorry, can’t hear you, let me finish up, I’ll just be a sec.”
My erection was beginning to subside as I finished washing myself and shampooing my hair. I climbed out of the shower and wrapped a towel around myself. My cock was still a little hard, but the towel made it less obvious and I didn’t think it would raise too many questions. I dried myself quickly and unlocked the door, the bolt snapping back into place.
“Everything alright babe? I thought you were staying downstairs.” I asked, about to walk back through to the bedroom.
It was Janet’s voice that replied.
“It’s not Jennifer,” she stated simply.
Christ. I didn’t know what to do, wearing only a towel, and my cock beginning to harden again with excitement. I kept the bathroom door closed.
“Janet? Are you alright?” I asked.
“Mmhm I’m fine.”
“Okay good. Did you need something?”
“Well…you could say that.”
She’s so hard to read. Her replies were light, easy, but not giggly or openly flirtatious. What to do, what to do. I’d paused too long.
“Are you going to stay in there all evening?” she teased.
I opened the door a little and looked around it, but couldn’t see her. She must be over by the bed, I thought. My erection was returning fast, I had no chance of hiding it with just a towel. Thinking fast, I stepped quickly into the passageway and grabbed the white dressing gown from the wardrobe opposite, keeping my back towards the bed.
“There you are! I thought you’d gone down the plughole,” her voice behind me as I shrugged on the gown.
I tried to laugh lightly in reply, but my mouth was too dry.
“No, I’m fine. How are you doing? What was it you needed?”
“Well, I decided I needed to change too. And I thought…well…come and see for yourself!”
What was she up to, I wondered. I pulled the belt tight around me, hoping my erection wasn’t too obvious, and walked around the corner to where the bed was. I saw her black heels lying casually discarded at the foot of the bed, and felt a strange little disappointment. I was hoping she’d still be wearing them and I could enjoy looking at them a little longer. As I rounded the corner, I saw her sitting on the side of the bed, legs crossed and bent at the waist. She was wearing a different dress now, a dusty pink colour, low cut at the back, and a lot shorter than the one she had on earlier. Her legs looked tanned, toned, and beautiful. On her feet she was just finishing fastening the buckle on Jennifer’s gorgeous new shoes.
“There,” she said, straightening up again, “what do you think?”
“What do I think of what?” I asked, playing dumb. She looked momentarily disappointed, and I felt a peculiar pang of guilt. It was obvious she had been hoping for a compliment.
“Oh…your outfit…yes, very nice. So you came to borrow Jennifer’s shoes?”
“Yes, she said I could wear them since they’re too uncomfortable for her.”
Her voice was quiet, she still seemed slightly disappointed, as if this wasn’t going quite as she expected, as if she’d expected more of a reaction from me.
“Ah, I see,” I replied, more upbeat, “well, let’s have a proper look then. Sorry, do you want me to put some proper clothes on?”
“Oh no, don’t worry about that. Oh Jennifer gave me her keycard by the way,” she told me as she stood up from the bed.
What a strange thing to say, I thought. Was she just telling me so I would remember to retrieve it from her and give it back to Jen? Or was she telling me that we wouldn’t be disturbed? As I pondered this, she had stood up and was standing in front of me, barely a pace away, looking at me expectantly.
Her dress suited her perfectly. It had large black buttons all the way up the front, and was cut to show just the merest hint of cleavage. Mid-thigh length would have been too short on most women her age, but with her figure she carried it off perfectly, her legs looked more stunning than ever in those toweringly high shoes. I could feel my cock getting harder, fortunately the towel was holding in place and hiding it.
Janet gave her charming wide smile again, I guessed the look in my eyes told her that I approved.
“You look…really great, Janet. Really…great.”
I so wanted to say “sexy”, so wanted to tell her that she was turning me on, but the words didn’t quite come out. Janet gave a little girlish giggle now.
“I hoped you would approve,” she said.
She hoped I’d approve. Not wondered if I’d approve, or thought I would approve. She hoped. She wanted me to. And oh god I did. I needed her to know that. And I needed to know what came next.
“I do. Very much. So,” I asked, trying to sound natural and calm, “did you come to borrow shoes, or see if I approved, or a bit of both?”
She cocked her head to one side, looking me right in the eye, with an amused look. My guess was she was as curious as I was, she didn’t know what came next either, neither of us wanted to make the next move, but at least we both know we were playing a game, it just wasn’t completely clear what game it was.
After a moment’s thought, she replied.
“Well, a bit of both I suppose. I thought the outfit would look better with these shoes, so I came to borrow them. And I knew you liked them because you bought them. And I bet you’re a bit disappointed Jennifer took them off. So I thought you might like to see me wear them instead. I thought maybe you’d like me to…wear them for you instead.”
She spluttered a little over the last sentence. She was nervous. Saying she was wearing them “for me” was the most obvious move yet, the most obvious statement that she wanted to look good to me, that she wanted to turn me on. I paused, not knowing what to say or do next. My cock was rock hard, I wanted to tear that dress off her and fuck her right then. But I had to play the game. If that was to be my prize, I had to play the game and I had to play it carefully.
Janet looked at me steadily, waiting patiently to see how I’d react. She could leave and go back downstairs. I could get dressed and follow her down separately. And we could both carry on as if nothing had happened. We could even kid ourselves that nothing but a normal conversation had passed between us as she came to borrow my wife’s shoes. Is that what she wanted?
“So,” I began hesitantly and immediately dried up.
“So.” she replied, with a crooked smile, with no intention of letting me off the hook.
“So, do you want to go back downstairs, or did you want to wait here with me. I mean, I still need to change and things.”
A pause, a beat, a breathless moment passed. She motioned for me to sit on the bed. I sat on the edge of the bed, halfway down its length, turned slightly towards her. I felt the towel around my waist loosen as I did so. If I stood up again, it would fall, she would see how hard I was for her, and there would be no turning back, whatever happened. She wasn’t smiling now, she looked…I wasn’t sure, nervous? Wide-eyed? Excited? With satisfaction I realised I knew what that look meant. I knew exactly. She looked horny.
She sat down too, at the pillow end of the bed. Space between us, still.
“Steve…”, she began.
“Jennifer said to tell you. She said to tell you that she was going to walk around the grounds for a while and take some pictures. She said she’d be about an hour, not to worry about her, she’ll see you downstairs when she gets back.”
She lifted her feet from the floor, and laid her legs on the bed, curled up slightly so her feet were just behind my back. I turned to face her. She was looking at her feet.
“They are nice shoes, aren’t they, Steve?”
“They’re beautiful, Janet.”
She raised one foot and softly laid it on my knee. I shivered involuntarily at her touch.
“Yes they are. You don’t think I’m too old to wear them, do you? Do you like how I look in them? I mean, you said you liked how I looked in the other shoes. What about these?”
I couldn’t resist touching her any longer. I gently placed my hand on her foot, just laying it there. Not stroking or caressing, not yet. Just touching. She didn’t move away.
“Yes, I love how you look in them. You look incredible in them. Not too old at all.”
“Mmm, thank you Steve. Are you glad I put them on?”
She lifted her other foot now, straightening her legs, resting both feet on my lap, perilously close to my hard cock.
“I’m very glad. I love that you put them on…” I paused, “I love that you put them on for me.”
She smiled a little now.
“That’s better,” she said mysteriously.
She was moving her feet slowly, rotating and stretching her ankle a little, the heel of the shoe was running along my thigh. My hand was stroking her foot now, running over the contours of the shoe, over the bridge of her foot, up to her ankle. I was shaking a little. My mouth was dry. But we were looking each other steadily in the eye. We were getting to the point of no return, to the point where we weren’t playing games any more. Where we both knew what the other wanted, and either gave it to them, or didn’t.
My hand reached her ankle, and I cradled it, raising it slightly, and let my other hand fall to begin caressing her foot. My touch couldn’t really be explained any more as anything other than sexual. This wasn’t the same as her resting her hand on my shoulder any more. And we both knew it.
“You know Steve,” Janet said, “it just seems to me like today…like we’re helping each other in a funny way. Can I ask you something?”
“You bought these shoes. You wanted Jennifer to wear them for you. And she did, but then she disappointed you, she took them off again.”
One hand holding her ankle firmly, the other tracing slowly up the back of her calf. I felt the heel of the other shoe slip inside the front of my dressing gown, the tip softly scratching my inner thigh.
“And now…I’m wearing them. For you.”
“Yes, Janet, thank you. And you look great in them…so what is the question you wanted to ask?”
“Well, I wondered…”
My hand had reached the back of her knee. Her legs were smooth, shapely. Her calves had a beautiful curve, but were firm and toned. My other hand raised her ankle a little higher. The skirt of her dress was riding up as her legs parted.
“…I wondered. It’s embarrassing to ask, but…do the shoes…do they turn you on? Do you think they’re…you know, sexy?”
“Yes, Janet. I do.”
“And is it just the shoes? Or is the person wearing them important?”
“Oh they’re very important. Without a sexy woman wearing them, they’re nothing.”
Both my hands supporting her ankle now, her foot level with my face, the heel of her other shoe scratching insistently higher at my inner thigh.
Very hesitantly now, quietly,
“Steve, am I a sexy woman? Do I turn you on?”
The thought that this could all be a trap flashed through my mind. But I was hornier than I could ever remember being. I bent my head slowly, touching my lips to her toes, kissing them gently. I raised my eyes to meet hers, to gauge her reaction. She was breathing fast, and shallow, one hand stroking her throat and chest…partly, I guessed, from arousal, and partly to reassure herself.
Her lips parted to speak, but nothing came out. She had a dry mouth too. She swallowed hard, as she watched me kiss each toe of her foot in turn.
“I want you to say it, Steve. Answer my question.”
“Yes…yes Janet, you turn me on. You are very sexy.”
Her eyes closed slowly and her head fell back to the headboard, but she was smiling. This was what she needed, and needed badly. She needed to know she was sexy. And I wanted to show her that she was.
Laying her foot softly on the bed, I stood, unfastening the belt of my dressing gown, allowing the towel to fall to the ground. The shape of my erection was clear, and as she opened her eyes again, I let the gown fall open, revealing my hard cock, already wet with pre-cum.
Her mouth fell open, wide, as I shrugged the gown from my shoulders. I stood naked beside her, looking her square in the eyes. I smiled reassuringly at her. My message was clear…you need proof that you are sexy, here it is. The last few doubts in my mind, that I had misinterpreted, that this isn’t what she wanted, all dissolved at once as she sat up on the bed, and her hands reached out to run up the backs of my thighs, up to my buttocks.
“Is that…for me?” she asked
“It’s all for you Janet.”
“Can I touch?”
I nodded once. Of course she could touch. I’d wanted nothing else all day.
Her right hand curled over my hip, ran slowly down my tummy, around the base of my cock, without touching it, lightly stroking my balls. Then one finger ran slowly along my length, from the base to the tip. My cock twitched involuntarily at her gentle touch. Desperately wanting more, but enjoying the tease.
She looked up at me as she softly wrapped her fingers around me. She didn’t stroke me, not even softly, just held my cock in her hand. I looked down at her, expecting her to begin wanking me, or bend her head to take me between her lips, but she didn’t do either. She didn’t seem to know quite what to do.
I decided to take the lead before she lost confidence, before the moment was lost.
“Lay down,” I told her, softly but firmly.
She did as I asked, looking deep into my eyes as she did so, almost pleadingly. I sensed that she wanted me, needed me, to guide her.
I sat beside her on the bed, and ran my hand up her leg, from her calf to her inner thigh.
“Unbutton your dress.”
She looked embarrassed, coy, as if she’d never had the confidence to reveal herself in this way before. My hands slowly traced further up her legs, to the hem of her dress, dangerously high on her thighs.
“Or would you rather I did it?” I asked, sliding the lowest button from its fastening.
“Oh god,” she whispered.
Slowly, I slipped another button open, then another. I could glimpse her panties now, black and lacy. Her back was arched slightly, her head pressed back into the bed, eyes closed. I continued unbuttoning her dress, kneeling over her, moving slowly further up her body. Revealing her panties, her stomach. Only one button remained fastened now.
I bent my head and touched my lips to her flat tummy, kissing it with soft lips.
“You have such a sexy body,” I whispered, “I want to kiss every inch of it.”
I ran the tip of my tongue down over her stomach, as she writhed silently under me. My hands ran softly down her sides, to her hips, and one finger of each hand hooked inside the waistband of her panties. I wanted to tear them off her and fuck her right away, my cock was throbbing, aching to be inside her. And yet I wanted this to last, I didn’t know if it would ever happen again and I wanted to enjoy it. Besides which, Janet seemed so surprisingly unsure of her body and her actions, I wanted to tease her, and make sure she enjoyed the experience too. I wanted to have her enjoy things she had never enjoyed before.
My lips soon reached the tops of her panties too. I could smell her wetness already, I knew I would soon be tasting her sweet juices. Without pulling her panties down, I kissed lower still, and could feel how wet the lacy fabric was. My lips reached her pussy lips, over her clit. She was soaking wet, the panties slick and tight against her, the shape of her pussy perfectly outlined through them. My mouth close to her pussy, I breathed deeply and warm, so she could feel my breath on her. She arched her back further, her legs spreading wider apart but her pussy moving away from me slightly, as if she simultaneously wanted, and wanted to resist.
I pressed my lips softly against her clit, through the fabric. Not kissing, or licking, just there, inhaling her scent, feeling the wetness against my lips.
“Janet,” I whispered, “your pussy smells so good. I’m going to taste you. Do you like having your pussy licked?”
“Mmmm,” she replied, wriggling around, but not answering.
“Tell me Janet…do you like having a tongue deep inside you?”
“Never…I’ve never done it.”
I wasn’t altogether surprised. It was obvious that her sex life was sadly lacking in any sort of adventure. I wouldn’t be surprised if Greg would consider it unmanly or disgusting to lick his wife’s pussy. Well, if he wasn’t going to, it was down to me to show her how good it could be.
I ran my tongue along her slit, feeling how wet and slick her panties were. I licked firmly, with the flat of my tongue, letting her get used to the feeling. She tasted so good. I slid my finger down from her waistband, letting the knuckle rub against her pussy, and pulled her panties aside. She had a beautiful pussy, and it was dripping wet for me. I kissed it softly, then gently slid the tip of my tongue between her lips and to her clit. It was swollen and, judging by the way she jolted as I licked it, sensitive.
I could hear her whispering to herself, but couldn’t make out her words…by the sound of it though, she was enjoying her first experience of oral sex. I continued working her clit, alternating my movements – running the tip of my tongue around it, then pressing with the flat, kissing softly then closing my lips around it and sucking.
Occasionally I would whisper to her, to reassure her, and remind her how sexy she was. She seemed to like being told that her juices tasted good, she moaned and writhed about more than ever when I told her that, pressing her pussy against my mouth urgently. As I sucked on her clit, I let my fingertip begin to tease her hole, just running little circles around it, feeling it get even wetter and open up at the slightest pressure. God I was so tempted to take that wet finger and tease her arse too, but I sensed that would be too much for her to handle. Maybe next time, I thought to myself, wickedly.
As slowly as I could, I pushed my finger inside her. She was hot and tight and wet around it, I was amazed how tight she still was. She gasped as it slid into her, to the first knuckle, then the second, all the way inside her. I looked up and watched her face as I rotated it inside her, her mouth open, eyes closed, breathing deeply. With my other hand I reached up and unfastened the final button of her dress, and pulled it open. She had gorgeous, small round nipples, which stood hard and erect for me.
I squeezed one slowly but firmly between my thumb and forefinger as I lapped at her clit, a little quicker now, and let my finger curl slightly inside her pussy. Occasionally, she would reach down with her own hands to touch the back of my head as I licked her, half stroking me and half pressing me down into her. Her breathing was deep, sometimes resolving into a moan or a half formed word. From between her legs, I watched her lips opening, her tongue running over them.
A thought formed in my head, something else I’d bet she’d never done before.
I slowly slid my finger out of her, saw the faint frown cross her face as I did so, but that disappeared as my tongue traced down from her clit and began pressing teasingly against her hole. I reached my hand up to her face, and softly pressed my finger, still dripping wet with her juices, to her lower lip. Her eyes flicked open, surprised at my touch. She hesitated, perhaps unsure what she was supposed to do next.
With one long, slow lick I ran my tongue along the crease of her pussy, drinking in her taste and scent. My lips and tongue slick, I whispered to her,
“Lick it…suck it clean.”
She blushed, she actually blushed, and it almost made me giggle. It was a little late in the day to be coy, I thought. But, as I suspected, the taste of her own pussy was obviously a new experience for her. My fingertip ran over her lips, wetting them a little. And, as my tongue slid back to her hole, I felt her own tongue push from between her lips and tentatively taste.
I pressed my finger into her mouth and my tongue into her cunt at the same moment, lapping and licking and curling and twisting my tongue inside her. I wanted to feel her come on my tongue, and I wanted to feel it now. She accepted my finger into her mouth hesitantly, but as I fucked her with my tongue she began to suck on it hungrily. Her initial shyness brushed aside, she obviously had quickly developed quite a taste for pussy…interesting indeed, I thought, the impossible but delicious fantasy of watching her licking my wife’s pussy dancing through my mind.
Her moans were growing deeper and louder, almost pleading, as I sensed her nearing orgasm. Both my hands snaked down over her body, around her hips, slid under her arse and lifted it slightly from the bed, allowing me to slide my tongue deeper inside her. I knew she was close, and I teased her mercilessly…making my tongue tighten, pushing my face against her, letting her grind herself against me, fucking her pussy fast and hard…then, just as she was about to come, softening my tongue, backing off a little, lazily curling it inside her, sliding it almost all the way out. Each time I did that she tried to slide down closer to me, but I gripped her hips and arse tight and had her under my control.
My lips, nose, chin, cheeks were all covered in her juices now…they were dripping down her thighs. I knew that her arse hole would be wet from her juices now too, and wondered again how she would react to me licking and fucking that too.
Just the thought of fucking her arse almost made me come, and I knew I had to fuck her. Roughly pulling her hips up, I fucked her harder than ever with my tongue, all sensitivity and sophistication gone from my actions. Her breathing grew faster and faster…then paused, and then one long, slow inhalation, her back arched as she pressed her head back into the bed…then a loud, uncontrolled, high moan, almost a scream as she came on my tongue. My tongue stretched deep into her and my fingers clawed at her arse cheeks as her orgasm peaked.
It went on and on, and just as it began to subside I slid quickly up the bed over her and kissed her deeply. My tongue in her mouth, lips clasped tightly together, sharing the taste of her pussy, of her orgasm. I felt the tip of my cock press against her pussy lips, I knew I was dripping with precum, I knew I needed to be inside her.
I broke off from the kiss, staring into her eyes.
“Your pussy tastes so fucking good Janet.”
She looked back at me, a little nervous. She knew what was coming next, and she wanted it so badly, even though parts of her were screaming at her that it was wrong.
“You’re so sexy, you turn me on so much.”
She smiled at that, a little crookedly, the twinkle in her eye stronger than ever.
“Can you feel how hard you make me?”
“Mmhm,” she replied, quietly, wriggling a tiny bit so I could feel her dripping wet pussy lips move against me.
I pushed up slightly, letting the tip of my cock press against her, not quite slipping inside her yet.
“Being naughty can feel pretty good, can’t it Janet?”
“Do you like being naughty for me?”
“Yes, yes,” she sounded desperate again, wanting me inside her. Teasing her was so easy, and such a turn on.
“Mmm good, I’ve got lots of naughty things you can do for me. Things you’ve never done before.”
“Oh goodness,” that half-excited, half-fearful look in her eyes again.
“But not today, later. You’d like to be naughty with me again, wouldn’t you?”
A pause. I wondered if I’d spoiled everything, if she had accepted this in her mind as a one-off; that the thought of doing it again would frighten her too much. She blinked slowly. As she opened her eyes, her tongue involuntarily flicked over her lips, and her eyes sparkled wickedly, and I knew the answer before she voiced it.
“When Greg’s out golfing maybe, hmm?” I asked, “we could have some fun of our own.”
The smile on her face broadened, she liked that thought a lot, apparently.
I slowly began to slide into her, just the head of my cock, feeling her pussy close tightly around it.
“I could fuck you on your couch,” I went on, sliding further into her. She gasped and closed her eyes.
“Lay you on your bed, and lick your pussy until you come…you liked that didn’t you?”
My cock now deep inside her, my hips rocking slowly and steadily, fucking her.
“Our naughty secret…you need somebody to be naughty for, and I need somebody to be naughty with.”
Her pussy was tight around me, I was close but needed to wait, I needed to feel her come on my cock. I kept my strokes long and slow, concentrating on my words, which I knew were turning her on as much as my cock was.
“I’ll kiss every inch of you, I’ll tease you until you can’t take it any longer, I’ll fuck you fast, and I’ll fuck you slow.”
She was moaning now, and pushing down against me. Her fingernails were clawing at my back in long deep movements. Her legs wrapped around mine, I could feel the tips of her heels scratching the backs of my thighs.
“I’ll fuck you with my cock, with my tongue, with my fingers.”
“I’ll watch you fuck your fingers, and lick them clean.”
Her moans faster and faster, pushing herself onto my cock as hard as she could. My own strokes grew faster too, and harder.
“I’ll come inside you, and all over your body.”
“I’m going to…” she gasped.
“Come…come for me. Come on my cock. You’re so naughty…you’re so sexy…”
She began to orgasm, trying unsuccessfully to hold back her uncontrollable scream of pleasure. And I could hold back no longer, my entire body quivered as I began to come too. My balls tightening, shooting my spunk deep into her. Our legs intertwined, our bodies clasped tightly together, as if one, our orgasm seemed to go on infinitely, as if time was passing quickly and standing still at the same time. Our eyes closed as the orgasm peaked, then opened and locked on each other as it slowed a little.
I remained inside her until we had both got our breath back, got our heartbeats under control…then I slowly and carefully slid my cock from her, rolled over to lay beside her, and took her in my arms, kissing her head. A long silence, neither of us knowing quite what to say.
Finally, I decided humour was the only way, the best way to make sure she didn’t get scared and bolt.
“Janet,” I began.
“Mmm?” she replied quietly.
“I think you should wear high heels more often.”
She laughed softly, paused for a moment.
Then she rolled over, straddling me, and laid her face softly on my chest.
“Would you really like me to?”
“Yes, Janet, I’d like you to wear them. For me.”
She kissed my chest.
“Then I will. For you.”
“You like being sexy for me?”
“Mmmhm, I do.”
“You like being naughty for me?”
“Good, good. You are sexy. Very sexy, and I can’t wait to be naughty with you again. And to find out just how naughty you will be.”
“I can’t wait either. I think I’ll be as naughty as you need me to be.”
“Hmm…we’ll see about that…and we’d better go. They’ll come looking for us soon.”
“Yes…I’ll clean myself up and put my innocent face back on. Nice Janet. But I’m keeping the shoes on. For you.”
“I’d like that,” I nodded, adding with a wink, “oh and you’d better check with Greg if he’s golfing next weekend.”
She smiled as she climbed off the bed, perhaps already knowing that he was. Or perhaps she knew I wouldn’t have to wait anything like that long. Just three hours later, back downstairs, walking back from the bar, bad music blaring from the speakers, bad dancing and spilled cider all over the dancefloor, my phone buzzed with a text. From Janet.
“Again,” it said, simply.
I looked up, across the room. She was sitting between her husband and her daughter, looking directly at me. Her legs crossed, her ankle twirling slowly to show off the beautiful shoes, her lips pursed…and her eyes, her eyes told me she wanted to experience more.
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