Finally Abducted

It all began with a walk along the breakwater of our wonderful seaside town, a chance to glance at the boats docked this season in the harbor below. My eyes noted shabby sailboats with names like Double Down or Nora II. Then, without warning, I saw it a large beautiful vessel whose hull carried two words that made me shiver with excitement The Abduction.

Could this boat and its owner be the key to my darkest sexual desires? Was it possible that a lady lawyer, who easily commands juries and prosecutes criminals, might finally be herself commanded? I’d fantasize for far too long about finding a man who understood that I needed to be taken, that I ached for a fierce captor who would forcefully possess me, bind me in every possible way. I desperately wanted to surrender control in exchange for the dangerous pleasures I’d only imagined. But how could I be sure it was my destiny?

I watched for a few minutes, but there was no sign of the boat’s owner, so I decided to inquire at the harbormaster’s office. Murmuring the name of the boat, I was shocked to realize that even the words made me hot, wet and weak with need. The man looked at me with some curiosity, then told me who captained The Abduction. I should have known.

It was Michael’s boat Michael, my former lover, the man I nearly married last year. We’d separated bitterly when his work took him to Vancouver I was afraid of a long distance relationship, and I’d sent him away with no promises that I’d want him back when he returned.

I drove back to town, to my office, but couldn’t concentrate on my upcoming trial. Then at about four thirty the phone rang, and my secretary told me it was Michael. The harbormaster had described me too well, and he knew I’d seen his boat . . . but did he have any idea how it made me feel?

Leslie? His voice deep, rough, mysterious as ever caressed me through the phone. I’ll buy you dinner at the Harbor House seven o’clock.

A command performance one I couldn’t refuse. I was too curious, too intrigued and too aroused by the dark promise in his voice. I hurried home to get ready, unsure of how to play it, what to show him. Finally, I decided to dress as I wanted him to see me as a woman full of dangerous longings, a wanton whose clothes might tempt him to uncover my secrets.

I fastened a black lace garter belt around my waist and attached sheer silk stockings to the delicate garters, then slipped on silk thong panties that would leave no lines. Feeling outrageously sensual, and like a woman clearly looking for trouble, I threw on my black silk dress that comes to a deep V in front, draped low in the back and tied with slender strings over each shoulder. The dress was the most daring thing I’d ever bought it made me feel wildly exposed. I’d never worn it for anyone before. Then I donned a pair of very high heels my best friend called fuck me pumps, with straps that wove around my feet and bound my ankles in black patent leather.

Just before seven, the doorbell rang. I gasped when I saw myself in the hall mirror. Was it too late to run and change, to hide what I saw in my eyes from the man who already knew me too well? The doorbell sounded a second time, and I knew I’d have to answer it.

As I held the door open and invited him in, Michael moved quickly inside, taking the doorknob from me and closing the door firmly. I turned to walk into the living room and felt his hand on my wrist. He pulled me around to face him, then stepped back. His eyes burned into mine, then paused on my lips and breasts. I couldn’t breathe and felt my nipples stiffen with erotic excitement. Moisture collected between my legs and a throbbing began deep inside.

I can smell your excitement, he said quietly. I can hear your heart racing, feel your heat from here. He stepped close, until his mouth was inches from mine and his breath brushed my lips. You’re mine, Leslie. When my lips parted, desperate for air and the pressure of his mouth on mine, he staked his claim, penetrating me with his tongue as if it was pussy he’d captured. Just like that, Michael had demanded and seized my unconditional surrender.

I felt dizzy, aching to be taken right then in the hallway, pushed to the floor and stretched open by his cock. As if he’d read my mind, Michael grabbed my wrists and pulled them together behind my back, forcing me toward him so that my breasts brushed his chest, then pulling me away so that I moaned with urgent need to be touched. I twisted in his grasp, but that only made him grip me tighter.

Suddenly, he released me. Dinner first, he said, and took my hand to lead me to his car.

Michael, I cried out. Wait . . .

It’s my party, baby, he said softly. I’m calling the shots tonight. But it’s your dream we’re dancing in . . . and mine, too.

At the curb he opened the door of a black Porsche and I sank into the leather seat, feeling the smooth animal skin graze mine. Michael leaned across me and buckled the seat beat across my body. I was every inch his captive, strapped in place, awaiting his powerful touch.

He said nothing more until we arrived at the restaurant overlooking the water and he had escorted me to a secluded table in a candlelit corner. Michael ordered dinner for us, then gazed at me with undisguised fascination. His eyes were full of questions, but he was silent for a long moment.

Open your legs, Leslie, he commanded, softly. I obeyed instantly, feeling cool air brush the thin silk that barely covered my hot pussy. Moments later, I felt Michael’s bare foot graze the inside of my thigh, then tease its way toward my core. When I responded by slightly closing my legs, he grabbed my wrists, held them down to the table and repeated his order. Open your legs. All the way, baby.

I was his to control, to tease with pleasure, and he knew it. Suddenly, he pressed his big toe against my clitoris and began rubbing and prodding it through the silk until I closed my eyes and moaned softly as tremors shook me. I blushed, remembering the shock the first time he did this to me. The pressure softened, and with a brief brush of my sensitive mons, which nearly drove me mad, he pulled away and released my hands.

I was reading about a sultan who used to amuse at least six ladies at once, using both hands, his mouth, his cock and both big toes, he said with a wicked smile. But as you know, I like to drive one lady out of her mind in six ways at once.

Name the time and place, I retorted with a grin that mirrored his, and he laughed. Later, he promised.

Somehow we got through dinner, with lots of verbal teasing and erotic eating, sucking our fingers and thumbs, trying to distract the other. Afterward we headed for the docks. Michael parked in the darkest corner of the lot, and I knew he wanted privacy for his next game. Every inch of my skin tingled with anticipation, and my mind was running wild, wondering what he would do to me. What fantasies had he imagined when he named his boat The Abduction?

He pulled me from the car, his hands snugly gripping my wrists, then pressed me against the side of the Porsche, his lower body hard against my softness. Ever been fucked on the hood of a car? he murmured in my ear. I shivered with arousal and just a little fear, but the threat was enough to make me soaking wet. He kissed me then, deep and hard, claiming my mouth as he claimed my dark fantasies. Then he took my lower lip between his teeth and bit gently at it. It’s that thin line between pain and ecstasy that’s so seductive, isn’t it? he said quietly. Bet you never imagined that being bad would taste this good . . .

He let go of me, and I sank against the side of the car, my eyes never leaving him. He loosened his tie, then snapped the silk out of his collar with a crack that whipped me into a frenzy of lust. In shock, I didn’t resist when he wrapped the tie snugly around my wrists, behind my back, and fastened me to the door handle. Bound, I yanked against the tie but I knew I couldn’t get loose. For a second, I wanted to scream for help, but I wasn’t ready to be rescued. It was all part of my fantasy of being captured, the stunning reality Michael was giving me now.

Tying a woman, making her helpless, is unbelievably exciting, he said, his voice a growl. I feel absolutely savage, knowing I can touch you anywhere I want, do anything I like. And you can’t raise a hand to stop me . . . although you may struggle all you like. His words dazzled me, made me feel like a battle prize, a slave to be toyed with as my captor pleased. I pulled against the silk bind, but only to experience the wanton sensation of being captive again and again.

Michael reached into his pocket and pulled out his Swiss Army knife. What are you doing? I whispered.

Your panties, he said, lifting my skirt until the slender straps of my thong panties were revealed. With a single slash of the knife, he cut them from me. No turning back now, babe. And none wanted, I just barely said. Everything he did thrilled me beyond description. I was his to possess, lost in a fantasy come vividly, wildly true.

His fingers began to play me, like a virtuoso commands his instrument, and as he fingered the soaking cleft of my pussy, the sounds that emerged from my lips were the sweet music of female surrender. I twisted and turned, enjoying being able to resist when, actually, I was doing my best to fuck myself on his hand. I was desperate to come or go mad trying. Michael laughed at my eagerness the perfect lady now reckless with desire and need, a wild female animal. You’re a real handful, sweetheart, he teased, as I began climaxing against his palm.

He untied the silk from the door handle, but left my hands bound behind me. He slipped off his jacket and wrapped it around me, then started walking, his hand collaring the back of my throat. We walked toward the breakwater. What if someone ? I started quickly, feeling dangerously exposed.

No one can see that you’re my captive, bound, half naked, he growled into my ear, his hand still on my neck, his words exciting both of us beyond description. Only we know . . .

The area was deserted, thank heavens, and we were alone when we reached the farthest tip of the concrete embankment that stood between the harbor and the sea. As Michael slipped the jacket from my shoulders, I couldn’t help but glance around, embarrassed, even scared, but unbelievably aroused by my predicament. Michael grabbed the tie’s end and roped my hands to the railing, so that I faced the boats docked between us and the shore. Somewhere out there was The Abduction.

He took my face in his hands and kissed me quickly, nibbling my lips and leaving a burning trail of love bites along my throat before bending to take each nipple in turn and suck it through the thin silk of my dress. I moaned as his tongue bathed my sensitive tips, and his teeth nipped at me until I cried out. Someone’s going to hear you, he threatened, aware that the danger of discovery was a new aphrodisiac.

Then, using his teeth, he seized the string that fastened my dress on my right shoulder and pulled the little bow loose. Half of the bodice fell to my waist, exposing my breast and its taut, puckered nipple. Michael drew it into his mouth, tonguing and sucking it until I reacted even wilder, moaning louder, feeling the heat sparking throughout my body. Seconds later, he grabbed the other string with his teeth and yanked the bow free. I was naked to the waist, and Michael was kneading my breasts, sucking and pinching and nipping at them, until I was struggling to rub myself against his chest and end the erotic torment he was so skillfully delivering. But I was tied tightly, helpless to stop the man who knew just how hot he’d made me, who was determined to see how much further he could drive me.

Moonlight streaming over the pale white breasts of his lady captive, Michael muttered. Prettiest sight south of the northern lights. Every pirate’s dream. Oh, he wants this as much as I do, I thought.

Tell me about The Abduction, I begged him. I want to know what it means.

He wrapped his arms around my waist and moved close enough to whisper in my ear. I promised myself I’d have you, even if I had to kidnap you and keep you my prisoner, until you admitted that no other man could satisfy you the way I do. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a long silk scarf. I want to fulfill every desire I see in your eyes and feel in your body. This is the abduction you always told me you dreamed about, Leslie. Before I could say a word, he wrapped the scarf behind my eyes and knotted it tightly over my head. I felt him untie my hands from the rail, and I gasped when he suddenly picked me up and slung me over his shoulder. Hang on, baby. I don’t have much practice!

Dizzy with excitement and the shocking thrill of being bound and blindfolded, my darkest sexual fantasy so exposed, I barely was aware that my dress was sliding down. Michael had one hand on my naked ass and the other around my ankles as he walked quickly to where the boat was berthed.

Could anyone see us? I wondered, not that it would’ve mattered. I was helpless to prevent what was happening to me, and I was loving every bit of it. I’d never been so wet, so damn hungry to be taken.

I felt Michael land on the wooden deck of the boat, pliant in the water. My hands were suddenly untied, and he began rubbing the skin where the soft silk bonds had left their mark. Michael on what I judged was a chaise lounge laid me down on a pile of cushions. He pulled my dress completely off and then picked up my right foot. These shoes could turn a guy into a foot fetishist, he warned. Then I felt him wrap rope around the ankle and shoe, fastening it to my left ankle beneath the chair’s frame. I’ve got to sail this thing for a bit, and I want to look at you open, exposed, he said, his fingers teasing the hair of my soaking cunt. Maybe I’ll even make you play with yourself while I watch. I wish you could see how gorgeously erotic you look right now.

Oh, Michael, I feel like a harem slave lying here, wondering when I’ll feel the sultan’s huge cock slam into me, I said, my own hands tangling in the curly hair that barely hid my pussy. But before I could dig my fingers inside and relieve the ache, Michael grabbed my wrists and roped them together, then fastened them to the top of the recliner. Not until I say so, darlin’. I want you so hot you’ll come at first touch. I struggled with the ropes that kept me from touching myself, but all the wriggling and writhing made me crazier still.

He left me then for endless minutes, straining, struggling, aching to be touched but only the breeze caressed me as the boat sailed quietly out of the harbor. I tried to push my thighs together, but I couldn’t. I even tried to make myself come just by fantasizing, but nothing I could imagine was wilder or more arousing than what I was living restrained by my lover, roped hand and foot on a boat in open water, being carried helplessly to some secret place where my ravishment would take place.

Finally, Michael finessed the boat somewhere quiet and anchored it there. It was utterly silent, and as he pulled my blindfold off and straddled my bound body, I saw only a nearly full moon above us, not a single light anywhere, and Michael, stripped and ready to carry out the rest of his wild abduction.

He moved until his cock bigger and harder that I remembered it pressed against my lips. Stick out your tongue, he ordered. I gave him a few tentative licks, then pulled him as deep into my mouth as I could. I vowed to bring him off with what I had to work with, to punish him with kisses that sucked him dry and held him captive, at least for as long as I could. Michael knew what I was trying to do and squeezed my nipples with his fingers, until I gasped for breath and moaned from the pleasurable pain of it. Then he began driving in and out of my mouth, burning the depths of my throat with the heat of his endless erection.

Suddenly he stopped, pulled out and began untying my legs and arms. He pulled me up from the chaise and led me to the stern of the boat, where a steel ladder reached to the top of the deckhouse. Give me your hands, he commanded, and roped them together, then threw the rope over the highest rung, pulling it taut so that my arms were raised high over my head and I stood on tiptoe, swaying slightly. The cold metal on my flesh made me shiver, and my body glistened in the silver light.

I could leave you like this, Michael threatened. Hanging there in the night air desperate to be touched. Maybe I should tickle you with the feathers I have stashed below. His voice trailed off as he continued to torture me with erotic images of new ways he could drive me mad with sexual hunger. Then he moved close and whispered, Maybe later. Right now I want to take you standing up. He pulled me to him and wrapped my legs around his waist, then slammed into me with a force that made me cry out.

There are people who live just up that hill, he warned me. What would they think if they saw you tied like this, naked and moaning in ecstasy? The notion was so outrageous that I burned with embarrassed excitement.

Michael reached for a scarf he’d draped nearby. Or else I could gag you, he said, moving quickly to cover my kiss swollen lips with the soft fabric. It was a kind of release, feeling the press of the silk against my mouth. I was at the mercy of his imagination, and my own. As Michael drove into me with all the need his reckless foreplay had produced, I cut loose a groan that sounded like a wild animal in rut. If he hadn’t been holding me, I know I would have fallen to the deck, so overwhelming was the climax that followed his pounding penetration of this tethered captive.

When he finally let me down and uncovered my mouth, kissing me with tender fierceness, I was exhausted. Michael carried me inside to the captain’s bedroom and laid me on the mahogany four poster that nearly filled the small cabin. Covering me with his naked body, imprisoning me in his arms, we fell asleep, both drained by the intensity of the fantasy we’d shared.

I awoke hours later to find my legs stretched wide apart, and silk scarves tying my limbs to the mahogany knobs at the corners of the bed. Michael? I called out, wondering where he was.

Down in a minute, he called. Then I heard him say, Help me carry this inside . . .

He couldn’t be bringing anyone in here! I was naked, completely exposed. No one else should see me like this!

Michael leaned inside the doorway. Did I scare you, or get you really hot? he teased. He could see I was terrified . . . and excited by the idea of a stranger knowing that I was Michael’s willing captive. He smiled and said, No way would I ever share you with anyone, baby. You’re for my eyes only. Not even James Bond could have made me cream by growling those words like Michael did.

Guess what this morning’s lucky number is? Yup, old sixty nine’s the winner! he said, diving for the soaking wet muff that lay open to his teasing tongue. Once more, I tried to capture my tormentor’s cock with my lips and take control, and this time I nearly succeeded. It was only a matter of moments before he turned around on the bed and sank his cock deep, deep inside me, pummeling my pussy, until I shook with a series of orgasms that left me shattered and Michael as glazed with pleasure as was I.

At last, he reached to untie my bonds and pulled me up to rest against the headboard. He took a small box off the night table and opened it. Inside were two lovely gold bracelets from Cartier, which he carefully screwed shut around my wrists.

You know what these mean, Leslie? he asked, holding my hands in his. The world may see them simply as jewelry, given by a lover who wants everyone to know you’re taken. But for us they mean much more. You wear my chains now, and anytime, anyplace, I can, and will, make you my captive again.

I pulled him down and kissed him with all the passion I’d never dared show before. I love you, Michael, and every secret dream you’ve made happen tonight. Now, how about abducting me somewhere very tropical for our honeymoon?

SURPRISE DISCOVERY HEATS UP AN ALREADY VERY HOT RELATIONSHIP

A few months ago, I moved in with my girlfriend, and although it changed my life in all the obvious ways not squeezing the toothpaste from the middle of the tube, sharing household expenses it changed my life in another, quite unexpected way.

Sheri is a total clotheshorse. She has a walk in closet full of beautiful outfits and drawers bursting with multi colored socks, textured tights, and lingerie ahh, the lingerie. The first few weeks that we were living together, I would shop for groceries on the way home and have dinner ready for her when she arrived an hour or so later. Or I would neaten up, organize, anything to make our happy little home that much happier. Sometimes that meant folding laundry and returning it to its proper place. And, sometimes, it meant folding and stashing my lover’s lingerie. I adored the way the fabric felt between my fingers, the stretch of the spandex satin and the scratchiness of the stiff lace. And sachets made all her exquisite lingerie smell beautiful.

One night, before I even knew what I was doing, I had pulled one of her camisoles from the drawer and slipped it over my head. It slithered down over my shoulders, coming to a whispy rest against my chest. Sheri has a broad back and full breasts, so her camisole fit fairly well on my thin frame, even though I failed to fill out the delicately pointed darts.

Admiring my reflection in the dresser mirror, I ran my hands over the silky material and my erect nipples. My cock had hardened, which confused me. I had never had any interest in this sort of thing before. But now it was obvious, from my involuntary physical reaction, that I was pretty turned on.

I reached down to stroke my cock with one hand while the other continued petting the soft shirt slip. I pumped a few droplets of lotion onto my cock and languidly ran my fingers up and down the shaft. Then I began squeezing rhythmically, occasionally tweaking my nipples, until I was almost ready to come. When I put all the pressure just below the head, where I’m most sensitive, it was only seconds before I was spraying come all over the dresser.

Soon, I was coming home from work every day and cooking for the two of us dressed in one of Sheri’s beautiful pieces of lingerie. Then, after masturbating, I would change into my robe before she got home, neatly refolding my cooking outfit and replacing it in Sheri’s drawer.

This went on for months until one afternoon I was standing at the stove, stirring a pot of spaghetti sauce, listening to loud rock ‘n roll on the stereo, when Sheri strolled in and surprised me. Or should I say, I surprised her? The two of us just stood there me with my spatula in hand, Sheri with her armload of paperwork without speaking. I felt my face redden and started to stammer some sort of explanation, but Sheri set her bundle down and walked over to me, smiling.

She ran her hand over my ass, which was sheathed in her lace and spandex panty girdle, and gave it a playful smack. You look great in that, she whispered in my ear. I put down the spatula. Sheri rubbed her hand over my semi erect cock, pressed tightly against my belly by the reinforced panel. With each pulse, as Sheri kept rubbing and I got harder, the girdle felt more constricting. Soon my cock was pressing up toward the waistband, straining to get out of its confines.

Still rubbing, Sheri purred, Why have you kept these little dress up sessions a secret, Sam? I think it’s pretty sexy. And she reached inside the tight girdle for my cock, rubbing the oozing pre come over my cockhead with her thumb.

I was afraid . . . of what you would think, I whispered.

Well, Sheri said softly, I think you’re hot, and if wearing my clothing gets you hard, I want to be a part of it. Here, let me help you out of those tight panties. Sheri peeled the thick spandex down over my thighs and soon the girdle was around my ankles. Kneeling before me, Sheri wrapped her lips around my throbbing cock. I moaned. I had been excited for such a long time since I’d encased myself in the girdle some two hours earlier and I was already set to ejaculate. I told Sheri I wouldn’t be able to take too much of her talented tonguing and she chuckled around my cock, nodding slightly.

Popping my cock out of her mouth, she slathered her saliva down around my balls, licking at the undersides, and then returned her mouth to my ready to explode cock. She started really sucking, and pumping her fist around my cock, and I felt my knees begin to shake. I closed my eyes as tightly as I could, shoved my pelvis at Sheri’s face and let loose a long stream of come, with my knees wobbling. Sheri sucked at my cock until she was sure she’d gotten every drop before she stood and kissed me.

That was incredible, I told her, trying to catch my breath.

Yeah, it was, Sheri purred. Wait until you see the new stuff I’ve ordered from our favorite catalog. And she pulled me to the bedroom. We spent the rest of the night trying on all kinds of lingerie, and fucking like we had the first month we started dating. We never did eat that spaghetti!

Mr. S.A., Washington

CONFESSING A PASSION FOR LADIES’S LINGERIE TO A WOMAN WHO THINKS IT’S DELIGHTFUL

Recently, I had an experience that changed my life. I have always had a desire to wear panties and bras but never told anyone. I have occasionally ventured out to the mall wearing panties under my street clothes, however this is very rare. I enjoy looking at panty lines on a shapely bottom. I get real excited if I can notice the color or the print of the panties that a lady is wearing. I’m always looking for the opportunity to notice panties under a skirt from across the room. I find this very appealing and exciting. One of my constant sexy secrets is wondering what a lady would think if she noticed panty lines on the pants I was wearing.

I am a professional at an international corporation and make many business trips each year. Often I travel with colleagues or my secretary, Debra. My last trip was a memorable one. Debra and I are very professional in our careers and would do nothing to taint our relationship, although I had one time over cognac told her about my wild thing for panties.

We had finished our seminar early Friday afternoon and had plenty of time before our business dinner. Debra decided to go sightseeing and shopping. I went back to my room to finish some paperwork. When I completed my work my curiosity was building up inside to see what kind of underwear Debra had in her room. We always get adjacent rooms should we need to entertain in the evenings or discuss business at night, however, we never break the trust we have in each other.

I went into her room and poked through her suitcase and found a sexy pair of black panties and a matching bra. My heart was thumping out of my chest. I took the lingerie into her bathroom and removed my clothes. I slowly slid the panties up my legs and snugged them around my raging hard on. They felt and looked fantastic. I took the bra and slipped my arms through the straps, then locked the clasp in the back. Looking at myself in the mirror, I did all I could to hold back my eruption. The sexy panty lines around my ass were incredible. I was having so much fun posing in different ways and looking at myself in the mirror that I turned around to a click and a flash that took me back ten feet.

Debra had returned to her room to get her camera and noticed the bathroom light on. As she approached the door, she noticed what I was doing and prepared to take a picture. I was so embarrassed and excited that I accidentally shot come inside Debra’s panties. I tried to apologize, but she giggled and said it was okay. I washed her panties and left them to dry on the towel rack. We talked for a while and she told me that she was surprised to see me wearing her panties but no one would know of our little secret. She decided to keep the picture, promising me no one else would see it.

She took me shopping at a lingerie store in the mall and we bought many panties, a few bras, a teddy, a garter and stockings. We went back to her room where I modeled my new lingerie for her. She told me that I was to wear panties under my street clothes all the time we were on business trips together as part of our special secret of course, her support and assertiveness excited me tremendously. We became very close that evening and have had outrageous sex when we both are wearing panties. I really look forward to my business trips with Debra now.

Mr. L.S., Missouri

NIGHTGOWN NAUGHTINESS OF HORNY BUSINESSMAN PIQUES THE INTEREST OF PLAYFUL HOTEL MAID

As a cross dresser with many delightful years of experience, I have assembled a nice wardrobe of feminine attire, and whenever I travel I do what that credit card company advises: I never leave home without it. This particular experience happened to me on a recent business trip to the West Coast.

I arrived late, tired yet exhilarated by the constant reminders of my exotic undergarments. As soon as I checked into my hotel room, I stripped off my male clothes and admired my reflection in the mirror as I unpacked. Always a pushover for my own reflection while dressed en femme, it wasn’t long before I was seduced by my own hand.

After showering I slipped into my floor length white satin nightie and matching peignoir and got into bed with the latest edition of Variations. I scanned through the exciting photos, advertisements and, best of all, the letters from your readers. You always seem to carry at least one letter on transvestism, and I found it quickly in your Wide World of Variations section. It wasn’t long before I was hard again. But my desires were less urgent now and I was able to play with myself for a half hour before ejaculating into the voluminous satin folds of my gown.

Exhausted, I fell asleep, only to awaken in the morning with another raging hard on. With Variations in one hand and my cock in the other, I repeated my experience of the night before. In my sexual reverie I lost track of the time and only a frantic rush of showering and shaving kept me from being late for my first appointment. Even so, I took the time to put on fresh panties, a garter belt and a new pair of sheer black nylon stockings. Only later did I realize that in my haste I had left my soiled nightie, still damp with my come, balled up on a chair in my room.

It was late when I returned to the hotel. My room had been made up and the bed turned down for the night. But what caught my eye immediately was my nightgown, which had been shaken out and laid neatly over the back of the chair. I had to smile. The maid had to have noticed the come stains.

The thought titillated me as I got into bed, again in my gown and peignoir. I found an adult movie on the cable channel and whacked away at myself while watching the steamy sex scenes, managing to climax just as the heroine faked an orgasm. The next day I awoke with plenty of time to get rid of my morning erection. I even had time to wash out a few things, which I did in my favorite way, by taking a bath with them on. The feel of warm water and wet satin against my skin is unbelievably sexy. When I departed, I deliberately left my gown, along with two pairs of panties, drying on the shower rod. It was a daring thing for a security conscious fellow like me to do.

Another busy workday, another late night. I had not actually dismissed the nightgown episode but I was totally unprepared for what greeted me as I entered my room. There were my panties, carefully folded and placed on top of the dresser. The bed had been turned down and my clean white nightgown was laid out on it, ready for me to slip into. But there was more. Right beside my nightgown was a black nylon slip!

I was stunned. At first, I thought it must be mine. But no, mine was still in the drawer where I had left it. What was going on? Was this a joke? Or some kind of signal? I went out and looked up and down the hall. No one was in sight. Puzzled but extremely excited, I settled down to enjoy my good fortune. I couldn’t get into the slip, but I took it to bed with me, fantasizing about its owner as I slowly stroked my rigid cock. I got off twice that night and once more in the morning, each time catching my come in the black nylon.

I left the black slip rolled up in the bed, still damp where I had jerked off, and with an envelope tucked into the lace bodice. In the envelope I enclosed a fifty dollar bill and a note that said, Tonight, please. I also left my Variations on the bedside table, folded open to the letter about cross dressing. I surveyed the battery of maids on the way out, feeling a bit like the prince searching for Cinderella, with my only clue being a black slip instead of a glass slipper. When I returned that evening, the black slip was gone. So was the note. And the fifty dollars. Would my Cinderella accept my invitation?

I poured myself a drink and got ready, just in case. I put on my red satin padded bra, matching panties, a black garter belt and sheer black nylons under my own black slip. I had just finished applying makeup when there was a knock at the door. Through the peephole I saw a young woman dressed in a maid’s uniform clutching an armload of bath towels. I gathered my peignoir around me and opened the door. She looked about the right size. She had dark hair and eyes, and her figure strained pleasantly against the undersized uniform. The name Carrie was stitched above her small left breast. She glanced quickly up and down the hall before stepping inside.

Thank you for taking such good care of my things, I began.

Carrie smiled nervously and in a soft voice thanked me for the money I had left. You are very beautiful in that, she said, shyly. It was an exaggeration but I appreciated it. A girl can use all the compliments she can get.

Carrie declined my offer of a drink, and then, without a word, she unbuttoned her dress and slipped it off. Underneath, she was wearing a black slip. The black slip. Somehow, despite the pose and the situation, Carrie seemed girlishly innocent, almost virginal.

This is you? she asked, fingering a place on her hip where my dried come had left its mark. I grinned in confirmation. And this is you? she added, touching a spot under her breast. I grinned again. She reached behind her and picked up the lacy hem of her slip, holding it out for my inspection. And this is you, too?

Yes, Carrie. All of that is me. I took her hand and placed it in my crotch. This is me, too.

Carrie’s eyes widened as she began exploring the growing hardness between my legs. Your cock is so big. Can I see?

I let her hike my slip up to examine me closely. She caressed the bulging outline, then fell to her knees and peeled down the red satin panties to set my cock free. Carrie stroked me gently, then took me in her mouth. Something I had only dreamed about was happening. I came almost immediately, flooding her mouth with thick white cream.

We moved to the bed where the virginal image I had of her disappeared as she skinned off her pantyhose and leaned back, legs spread wide in invitation. I dove for her cunt which was already glistening wet. Carrie squealed with delight as I flicked my tongue against her clitoris until her breathing became shallow and she had an explosive orgasm.

That was the beginning of a night of frenzied lovemaking. We sucked, fucked and stroked each other for long sensual periods until relief came, then napped or just cuddled quietly together, recovering. Carrie insisted that I show her how I masturbated and then, while watching me, she fingered herself to a climax. We seemed to know by instinct exactly what the other wanted and responded eagerly to provide it. By unspoken agreement, we kept our bras and slips on during our lovemaking. I’ve never enjoyed sex as much as I did that night.

Near morning, Carrie got up and dressed, hoping to make her escape unnoticed by the other hotel employees. We agreed to exchange underwear and she left wearing my red panty and bra set.

I saw Carrie once more before I left. When I was packed and waiting for the bell captain to collect my luggage, she let herself in without knocking. She stood there, smiling happily at me and the secrets we shared. Do you like my new figure? she asked coyly, putting her arms behind her and poking out her chest. I took her padded bra in my hands and squeezed the familiar shapes. She pressed her mouth hard against mine in a deep tongue lashing kiss. There was a knock at the door. She pressed a piece of paper in my hand. On it was her name and phone number. Please come to me again, she whispered. Then she was gone.

Mr. L.O., Mississippi

LET’S PLAY DRESS UP! FUN LOVING GAL TURNS HER STUNNED BOYFRIEND INTO A LIVING DOLL

My girlfriend, Ruth, and I work together in the same office. At lunch one day we were talking about our favorite games when we were children. When she said she loved playing with her dolls, I commented that it was too bad she didn’t have them anymore. A couple of days later, Ruth asked if I would go to her apartment and play dress up with her after work on Friday. I thought it would be fun and so I agreed.

When I arrived at her place, Ruth ushered me into the bedroom where she had several outfits laid out. I selected a denim skirt and frilly cotton blouse and had great fun dressing her in her cowgirl outfit. Then Ruth told me it was her turn to dress me up. Stripping me, she said that she never saw a doll with hair all over the legs and chest, and so I went along with her shaving my body hair. She then said that since I had picked out her outfit, she got to pick out mine.

I was flabbergasted when she pulled out a pair of black panties and matching bra and full slip, in my size, no less! She said that since I got to dress her up, it was only fair that I let her dress me up. Since I was standing there naked and she was dressed and made up, I decided to be a good sport and let her have her fun.

So, I stepped into my first pair of panties and let Ruth pull them up. She then quickly hooked the bra around my chest. She opened her dresser drawer and handed me two weighted breast forms for me to put in my brassiere. Next came the full slip and a black panty girdle with jet black stockings. After I had squeezed into the girdle, Ruth pulled up the stockings and showed me how to fasten them to the garters of the girdle.

There was also a black skirt that she pulled up around my waist and zipped up the back. She then gave me a black t shirt decorated with embroidered flowers. She put a pair of black high heels in my hand and told me to put them on. I realized that I was enjoying all the attention and getting more submissive as each item was added to my outfit. It was obvious Ruth had planned this well because all the clothes fit perfectly.

I put on the heels and Ruth led by the hand to dressing table so she could put makeup on me. After foundation, eye shadow, rouge and mascara had been applied, my eyebrows were plucked. Now I was ready for clip on earrings, a pearl necklace and a shoulder length brown wig. Finally, Ruth handed me a tube of bright red lipstick.

I stared in the mirror and saw what I would look like if I really was a woman, not a man going to a costume party. Ruth handed me a purse after putting my wallet and some makeup in it and said we were going for a walk. I told her I didn’t want to go out in public dressed like this and she said why not, women do it everyday. And besides, I looked just like a woman. We went to the apartment of a friend of hers, a woman who, I learned, had helped Ruth find my outfit. Rebecca wanted to see how my transformation from Carl to Carly had turned out. She was ready with a camera and took pictures of Ruth and I together.

Later, Ruth took me to a bar and bought me a drink. She asked me to dance and rubbed herself provocatively against me. This attracted the attention of some guys, who commented about what a waste it was for two girls to be going together. But the women in the bar were more perceptive. A few of them remarked to Ruth how cute her boyfriend looked dressed as a woman.

Later, when we returned to her apartment, I found that my reward was a pink babydoll nightie and a night of great sex. Ruth insisted that I keep all my female clothes on, allowing me to remove only the panty girdle so she could have at my cock. She took complete control, first sucking my cock to a state of aching rigidity and then riding it, fittingly enough, like a cowgirl. I never would have believed I could derive so much pleasure from assuming the passive role.

The best was when she had me roll onto my stomach and then penetrated my ass with a strap on dildo. It hurt a little at first, but before very long I was moaning with pleasure and asking her to fuck my ass good. Later, after I had come in her mouth, Ruth laughed and said that playing with her Barbie Doll as an adult was even more fun than it was when she was a child.

In the morning, she handed me white panties and a bra as I came out of the shower. When I couldn’t find my clothing, she laughed and said that maybe I would like to put a dress on over my bra and panties before Rebecca came over to help her teach me how women stand, sit and flirt! Before I knew it, I was in a light flowered print dress, full petticoat and three inch white heels, ready for a lesson in proper female behavior. What fun!

Mr. C.Z., Texas

A CLOTHES ENCOUNTER OF A DIFFERENT KIND FOR A BOLD YOUNG WOMAN

I have always desired to be among men while dressed in men’s clothing. It is so exquisite to imagine satisfying myself with my own touch as all the while they assume I am one of them.

The other day, while I was throwing out trash in the dumpster behind my apartment, I noticed a cardboard box filled with men’s clothing. I fished it out of the garbage and brought it up to my apartment. There, I pulled off my jeans and t shirt and crouched naked at the side of the box. It contained a bunch of old shirts and suits, nicely folded and not soiled. The best surprise was a pair of narrow suspenders. I was thrilled because I used to wear my father’s and grandfather’s old castaways. They often joked that I looked like a boy in their clothes, but it’s my style. I’m in my late twenties now but I still love dressing like a man.

A white button down shirt, faded yellow, was the first thing I picked out and tried on. My pink nipples became hard as I rubbed the starched cotton shirt over them. I slipped on one of the dark, striped jackets, pulled up the matching trousers and rolled up the cuffs. I was becoming wet with excitement. Scampering off into my bedroom, I dug around in my closet for my scuffed pair of wing tips and an old silk tie with diagonal stripes.

Looking into my full length mirror, I imagined walking into a crowd of men, none of whom could tell I was a female. They’d probably think I was a nattily dressed boy from prep school.

The inside label of the jacket read Brooks Brothers Ltd., New York, New York and the wool suit felt exquisite against my skin. Putting my hands in the pockets of the trousers, I reached for my crotch as my labia swelled. As I continued to gaze in the mirror, my pussy grew hot in my hand like the heat from a cigar lighter.

I unfastened the tab and unbuttoned the waistband. I touched myself between my legs, caressing that special spot between my vagina and anus. My thumb eased back the lips of my cunt and I slowly rubbed my clitoris. With my other hand I pulled the elastic suspenders out and gently snapped them against my nipples. The sensation was fabulous. My breasts tingled with a delicious mix of pain and pleasure.

I love to satisfy myself because who else knows my body better than I do. Before I realized it, my thumb was sticky and I was sliding it into my cunt as my knuckle massaged my clitoris. I fell back on my settee and rocked my hips. With my other hand I negotiated the buttons of the shirt and found my hard nipples. I wet my fingers and pulled at my nipples, pinching them as well.

I was panting. My breathing became sporadic as I moaned a long and dulcet, Yes. My hand was wet from my excitement and I licked it from each of my fingers.

Wearing the clothes in the privacy of my apartment was great fun, but the true test would come in public. After picking up my latest acquisitions from the dry cleaners the following evening, I dressed in men’s boxer shorts, tank t shirt and paisley socks under my suit and tie. My hair is dark and cut short like a boy’s, so I slicked it back with gel, pushed a pair of schoolboy glasses on my nose and took a walk around my neighborhood.

There’s a barber shop on the same block as the volunteer fire department and I thought I would drop in and mingle with the neighborhood men who pass the day there. The door’s bell jingled and the barber and his sole customer looked up to see who had entered. From their expressions I could tell I had them fooled. The barber and the old timer, who was smoking a foul smelling cigar, were talking about how lousy the Red Sox were playing. The team better start playing some baseball if they wanted to get into the playoffs, the old timer stressed.

I sat down and perused the fishing and girlie magazines. I must have been engrossed in one the gatefold spreads, because the next thing I heard was the barber calling me. Young man? Hey, young fella, you’re next, he said as he took scissors out of his smock pocket. This was one of the moments I had always dreamed about: walking up to the barber chair, sitting down and getting my hair cut. Between the magazine I had just put down and the thought of having my hair cut, I was ready to slide my finger against my clitoris and finger myself to orgasm.

The two men took up their baseball conversation again as the barber twirled the apron around my body and fastened it around my neck. Immediately, under the cover of the apron, I carefully unzipped my fly and took hold of my wet labia. I hoped I could stifle my whimpers of satisfaction, but between the barber gently positioning my head with his fingers and my finger slowly fucking myself, I could have been moaning and not realized it.

The best part came after the haircut and the tingly splash of spicy smelling cologne, when the barber slapped me on the back and said, Well, son, you’re my last for today. Neither he nor the old man had realized I was a woman. I paid the barber, hoping there wasn’t a wet spot on the crotch of my pants. Walking back home, I stuck my hands deep in my pants pockets like men do and continued to massage my pussy until I reached the steps to my door.

All I can say is, no sooner was I inside my apartment than my trousers were around my knees and my hands were exploring the crack of my ass, the slit of my sex and my wrinkled areolas. I felt like I was in the fast moving hands of a Saturday night date only this time I would go all the way. I slid my middle finger deep into my pussy and played with my clitoris like a kitten plays with a small ball of yarn. My body vibrated like a ringing bell and I fell into a heap on the floor among the dark jacket, heavy shoes and crooked necktie.

Ms. S.K., Massachusetts

BREATHTAKINGLY LOVELY IN SIMPLE YET ELEGANT CLOTHES BEFITTING THE PERFECT LADY

I am forty one years old and have been cross dressing for most of my adult life. My ex wife could never fully accept my transvestism, but we parted amicably and still see each other on occasion. In fact, since our divorce our relationship has improved greatly. She often helps me out with my shopping. On special occasions, such as my birthday, she always buys me lovely lingerie.

I have built up quite a nice wardrobe over the years. I have a number of cocktail dresses in silk or similarly fine material and even have some formal evening attire. I also have many silk blouses and wool skirts. I like the classic look of a wool blazer with a wool skirt and silk blouse. I do have a few pairs of pleated slacks, but I feel a lady should look as feminine as possible, so I wear either a skirt or a dress in public, depending on my mood and where I happen to be going.

I adore shoes and have twenty different pairs. Fortunately, I have a relatively small foot for a man and can fit into a woman’s size ten. The highest heels I own are three inches. I know many of my sisters go for those outrageous heels of six inches or more, but I prefer to remain ladylike and dress conservatively. In fact, that is probably a good description of my style of dress classic conservative. I try to look simple yet elegant.

I always try to accentuate my dress with the appropriate jewelry. I have many different rings, earrings, necklaces and bracelets. I have a beautiful gold woman’s watch that I usually wear. Although over the years I have bought many different wigs, I usually wear the same one. It is a shoulder length auburn wig with light streaks of gray in it. Let’s face it, at forty one I can no longer pass for a twenty two year old beach bunny! My wig is styled with a center part, bangs and an upward curl at the bottom. I like to brush it back behind my ears to show off my earrings.

I go to great lengths to ensure that I look as beautiful as possible. I like my makeup to look smooth and silky. I always wear eyeliner, mascara and eyes shadow. I usually wear some rouge to accentuate my cheekbones. I love applying my creamy lip gloss, which most often matches my nail polish. Perfume is a must.

Although on the outside I look sophisticated and elegant, underneath I am Paris nights. I love the look and feel of soft and silky lingerie. I have drawers full of bras, panties, garter belts and slips. They are all satin and silk with lots and lots of pretty lace. I have all different styles and colors. You name it and I probably have it!

In the years since I first came out of the closet, I have made quite a number of girlfriends. I often entertain them at my home. It is a fantastic time when ten or so TVs get together. On most of these occasions, we try to pick a theme for the evening. We have had theme nights ranging from evening gowns to bra and panty displays! On those nights when there are only a few of us present, we have long and loving sex sessions. Understanding both our male side as well as knowing the softness and compassion of the female side results in the beautiful caresses we all enjoy to the fullest.

Tonight I am going out with one of my oldest and best girlfriends. Lori is thirty seven years old, five feet eight inches tall and has a very slender build. I have known her for almost five years, having met her shortly after my divorce. We have become full time friends and part time lovers. I met her at a New Year’s Eve party. Believe it or not, I met her as a him. Although I was dressed up at the time, Lori was not. I had no idea whatsoever that the man I had just met would end up meaning so much to me!

The evening we met, Lori asked if he could see me again. I was thrilled to say yes. I had never been asked out on a date by another man. He was so handsome and a true gentleman. He suggested that I come to his house the following Saturday night at nine. Although I was a bit taken aback that he didn’t offer to pick me up, he said he would have a nice surprise for me and that I would not be disappointed. What a surprise it turned out to be!

I remember that night as if it were yesterday. I dressed in a beautiful red cocktail dress. Underneath, I wore a pair of red lace silk panties and a matching garter belt that held up black seamed stockings. I had on a red silk slip with plenty of lace in all the right places. As I put on my black three inch pumps, I knew I looked beautiful and sexy. I brought along an overnight bag just in case I decided to stay.

When I rang the doorbell to Lori’s house, I was shocked when a beautiful young lady answered the door. You guessed it, that beautiful young lady was the handsome gentleman from the party! She had on a silky, dark green sleeveless cocktail dress. She took me in her arms and gave me a wet French kiss. As our bodies rubbed up against each other through our silk dresses and lingerie, I knew I was about to have an evening of love and passion I would never forget.

Lori poured us both a drink and we sat down together on her sofa. Over the course of the evening we talked, embraced and gently kissed and caressed each other. Lori told me that she, too, had been married but now lived alone and dressed up frequently. She was so happy to meet me because she desperately wanted to develop a friendship with another TV. I don’t think I have ever felt as relaxed and as totally comfortable with another human being as I did that evening with Lori. We had the same likes and dislikes. Eventually, we went up to her bedroom.

At first it was a little awkward, because that we didn’t know who should take the lead. Lori finally did. She started to rub my throbbing cock through the silk of my dress, slip and panties. She then slowly pulled up my skirt and slip and tugged my lace panties down around my stocking clad knees. My throbbing cock was hot and waiting to be sucked. And sucked it was! Lori’s creamy lips enveloped my cock as she slowly and lovingly gave me the best blowjob I ever received. When I came, she swallowed every last drop of my semen until I was totally spent.

When she was done, she softly whispered in my ear that it was my turn. I had never even touched a man’s genitals before, let alone give one a blowjob. But I knew that if I were to become the real lady I wanted to be, I would have to perform fellatio. I gently lifted Lori’s skirt above her waist. She had on a dark green lace half slip beneath which I saw the outline of her bulging cock. I gently massaged her cock through her slip and panties for a few minutes, then lifted her slip up to reveal a pair of black lace panties. I pulled her hard cock out of her panties and placed it between my red glossed lips. I sucked that cock passionately, eventually gulping down Lori’s load with pure delight.

That evening we slept together in each other’s arms, as we have done numerous times since then. We often go on shopping trips together and have even double dated, dressing as our female selves, much to the delight of our totally male dates.

Well, it’s time to go. Lori and I are all set for another night of fun and adventure.

Mr. D.Y., New York

HE LET HER IN HIS FRONT DOOR SHE LET HIM IN HER BACKDOOR

A good buddy of mine recently telephoned me in a panic. He said Alicia, a friend of his, was going to attend a symposium in town and needed a place to stay for a few weeks. Would I help out? Though I did not know Alicia, my friend convinced me that she would not pose a problem, so I told him she could use my apartment.

She arrived late on a Friday evening. Her voice sounded sultry over the intercom and I thought I detected a slight Spanish accent. Intrigued, I buzzed her inside.

When I finally saw her through the peephole of my door, I realized the stereotypical picture I had of a history academic was far from what Alicia really looked like. She was stunning, with long, kinky hair the color of my favorite leather belt. As I opened the door, I noticed her firm breasts under a crisp cotton shirt and a well curved ass expertly fitted in faded jeans.

We made our introductions and I showed her the apartment. Of course, the small studio I rent made us feel like we were living on top of one another, but Alicia didn’t seem to mind. She was comfortable on my sleep sofa, and I dreamed of her beautiful body every night as I slept on a futon I kept for emergencies.

My work schedule at the non profit foundation and hers at the university meshed easily, so there wasn’t a need to fight over the bathroom in the mornings. In fact, every morning Alicia made strong coffee and we ate biscuits with butter. She was from South America and was doing her Ph.D. on the Peruvian government in the early twentieth century. That hour we shared each morning helped me to understand a bit of South American history, but what I daydreamed about was making love to Alicia. She sensed a mutual attraction, and as the days passed, we gradually extended our hour in the morning.

We sparred with intellectual ideas, though I think we both knew that sooner or later we would discuss sex. Alicia was quite proud of her body and not at all shy about showing it off. I loved the sight of the tiny bath towels draped teasingly over her pert breasts and round ass. More than once, the daily newspaper hid my hard on as I watched her walk by after a shower with her muscular legs slick from the water.

In the confined space of my studio we were forever bumping into each other and one day she accidentally tripped into my arms. I held her longer than was needed to help her up. While she was in my arms I kissed her on the forehead. Alicia nuzzled her face in my chest and squeezed my waist with her small hands as she said, You are a handsome man, Ryan. You should find yourself a woman.

I think I have, I said. She turned her face away as if bashful, then said she was in need of a man’s touch.

I maneuvered her against the small kitchen counter. She was still wrapped in a damp bath towel and the curves of her body felt nice next to mine. Alicia said she had to meet a group of people at the university. She broke loose and walked to the bed where her clothing for the day was laid out. When she got down on the floor and looked under the sofa bed for her shoe, I caught sight of her sheer, black panties. As she reached under the bed, I knelt beside her and loosened the damp towel from around her body. Her breasts hung heavy and her nipples were the size and color of pink gumdrops.

I must go, she protested in a voice that lacked conviction.

Stay with me today, I said.

Still on her knees, Alicia slipped off her panties and whispered, Touch me then, Ryan. Make love to my ass. In seconds, I was caressing her smooth, round bottom as she crouched on the floor.

In her knapsack, she said, there was a small jar of Vaseline she uses for her lips. Alicia moaned and raised her ass higher in the air, as if beckoning me to fill it. She reached behind herself and spread her cheeks with her hands.

I smeared the lubricant on her lovely asshole, which looked like the tightly closed bud of a dark rose. Fuck me, she pleaded. With my stiff cock lubricated, I knelt between her legs and eased one of my greasy fingers into her ass. Alicia squealed and twisted her hips.

Your cock, put it in, she pleaded. Slowly I pushed the head of my cock past her ring of muscle. The fit was almost unbearably tight her sphincter gripped my cock in a stranglehold. Alicia gasped and clutched the edge of the sofa bed as I eased the entire length of my cock into her inviting bottom. The sensation of her anus stretched tight around my cock was almost unbearably good. I leaned over and kissed Alicia on her back and she ever so slowly started to rock her hips.

Finally, I eased my cock out of her ass and then pushed it back in at the same slow speed. But soon I was picking up the pace, relishing the tight fit as I pumped long and hard into my sexy roommate’s perfect ass. And then I couldn’t hold back any longer and came inside Alicia. Her eyes were closed tightly and her mouth was open as I caressed her clit until she trembled from her orgasm and slid onto the floor. As my cock grew soft, I pulled out of her.

She crawled onto the sofa bed and cleaned my cock with her bath towel. My cock was a bit tender, but I wanted to fuck her ass again. Alicia thoroughly greased my penis again in the hope of reviving it. And soon, my cock was long and hard once more, glistening from the slick layer of lubricant.

Alicia bent over the bed until her face was flat against the mattress. She spread her asscheeks and said, Again, Ryan, fuck me more.

This time it was easier to slide my cock past her sphincter. Her moans were muffled by the sheets as I pumped in and out until I couldn’t control the jerking of my hips. I grabbed Alicia’s soft hips and sprayed my come in her rectum. We both screamed as if mortally wounded, then sighed with pleasure.

Alicia never did meet up with her student group that day, because I continued to make love to her ass until late in the afternoon.

Mr. R.B., Washington

GRAB THAT STRAP ON DILDO AND GIVE YOUR GUY A SPECIAL THRILL, ADVISES HAPPY WIFE

My husband and I opened up a new world of sexual pleasure for ourselves when we discovered that he enjoys being penetrated anally as much as I do.

Lou had been having trouble getting and maintaining a full erection, so I thought we’d try something different during foreplay. As he lay on the bed, his knees pulled up to his chest, I dipped one finger into a jar of petroleum jelly and then gently pushed it inside his ass. I felt my husband’s sphincter gripping my finger like a taut rubber band. I worked my finger in and out until his muscles started to relax, then began to move my finger in a circle, pushing sideways against the ring of muscles, stretching them a little.

I applied more jelly to two fingers and then inserted both. Lou gradually relaxed, the tension on his face replaced by a look of intense absorption, as if he dare not move a muscle. His cock was hard and pink and it jutted up, pulsing slightly with each heartbeat. A drop of fluid glistened on its tip. Lou started to squirm his hips, pushing against my two fingers.

I grabbed his cock and he shuddered and groaned. I started milking it with my whole hand. After only five strokes, his whole body arched and he groaned again, his come spurting out in powerful jets. The first one almost reached his chin, and I counted four more strong contractions. Lou grabbed my hands with an iron grip and held them still, my fingers still in his bottom and my other hand still on his cock. He breathed in gasps, as if unable to catch his breath.

After he got his voice back, Lou told me it was the most powerful orgasm he had ever had. He said that at first the penetration felt strange, but as he relaxed his ass got warmer and warmer, that warmth seeming to flow into his cock. Finally, he felt his anal muscles go slack and with that a feeling of surrender washed over him.

Hearing this really turned me on. As I kissed and hugged Lou, he reached down and found my clitoris. In no time, his knowing fingers brought me to my own shuddering orgasm.

Two nights later, we decided to see what penetration with a dildo would be like for him. We ordered a small one from a mail order catalog. I prepared Lou with my jelly coated fingers and then pressed the lubricated dildo against his relaxed asshole. The cold plastic had Lou tightening up, but I worked him through it, pushing the dildo in an inch at a time and then pulling it out, then pushing in two inches, and then out, and so on.

Without waiting for Lou’s go ahead, I started pulling the dildo almost all the way out and then pushing it all the way back in. For a minute he didn’t say anything, as if gauging how it felt. Then he began to moan and said, Oh, that’s great! Oh, faster! I picked up my rhythm and soon he was squirming his hips to try to meet the dildo’s thrusts. Fuck my ass! he begged. Oh, pull my cock! I want to come while you’re fucking me! It was awkward to pump his cock while thrusting the dildo into his ass, but I succeeded and soon he was spurting semen in gobs across his hairy chest.

Lou asked me not to move, saying that he wanted to savor the sensation of the dildo in his bottom while I held his spent cock. My sex was slick with my juices, but that was almost secondary to the thrilling power I felt in creating this sexual firestorm. Lou roused himself, slipping the dildo out of his ass and pulling me down onto the bed. He began by kissing me fiercely, then slid down to lick my pussy passionately. Soon I came, clutching his head between my thighs.

Afterward, Lou described how delicious it was to be fucked by the dildo, saying that it felt as if there was a direct connection between his ass and his cock, so that every time the dildo drove into him it was like the dildo was rubbing my cock from the inside.

We have three dildos now, the original small one, a medium and a large, as well as a harness that I strap on so I can fuck Lou with my whole body. When I put on my harness and dildo, the look of pleasure, excitement and anticipation on my husband’s face is something to behold. I love fucking Lou because I feel like I am entering him in the most intimate way possible. He surrenders all control to me, trusting me as he would never trust anyone else. The power of those moments is intoxicating.

We usually make love doggy style. I love when my thighs slap against Lou’s as I reach full penetration. And this way Lou can thrust back against my cock and I can reach around him and squeeze his cock at the same time. Sometimes we prop his bottom up on pillows so I can enter him from the front and see his face while I give him pleasure.

We usually use the small dildo, which is about the size of his cock. With good lubrication, Lou’s anus can easily accommodate it, and I can thrust as fast and as hard as we want. Because his ass is used to the small dildo now, I don’t have to prepare him with my fingers anymore, except if we want that as part of our foreplay.

Sometimes Lou likes the medium dildo for a fuller feeling. I have to be gentler and slower in my thrusting, and it takes longer before his anus really lets go. Our lovemaking then seems more mellow, less frenzied. We’ve only used the large dildo a few times. Bill says his ass never really relaxes enough to accept it and he doesn’t get the feeling of surrender that is the most exciting part of being fucked in the ass. I must admit that I love the sight of the large dildo sticking out of the harness and into his ass, while Lou looks on it as a challenge to accept such a monster.”

We also have ordered two different size anal plugs. We’ve tried regular intercourse with Lou wearing an anal plug, but he doesn’t have really powerful orgasms that way. I have used the anal plug on myself while making love to Lou anally. I love the feeling of my ass gripping the plug while I’m working the dildo in and out of Lou’s anus.

I always get very excited from fucking Lou. Often I can just reach down under the harness and with a few strokes of my clitoris bring myself to orgasm. With the dildo still buried in Lou’s ass, I’ll collapse right on top of him. Other times he brings me to orgasm with his fingers or his tongue after I’ve pulled my cock out of his bottom.

We are lucky to have discovered this key to bringing ourselves such pleasure. I would recommend anal sex to other couples seeking something new and exciting. I know that, like me, many women enjoy getting fucked in the ass, and were they to try ass fucking their men, they would no doubt discover that giving is as thrilling as receiving. And their men will be overjoyed.

Ms. A.T., Massachusetts

HOT CALIFORNIA BLONDE LOVES TO GET IT WHERE THE SUN DOESN’T SHINE

After I graduated from college, I landed my first job in California. This was a big treat for a native northeasterner like me, to be in a sunshine state, where the girls never have to wear heavy winter coats! I couldn’t wait. I found an apartment near the beach And even bought a bike to ride on the boardwalk.

That first Saturday I rode the few blocks to the oceanfront and spent the day cruising up and down the boardwalk, ogling all the gorgeous women and taking in the sights and smells of the Pacific coast. With the sun about ready to splash into the ocean, I found myself right behind a stunning set of buns and I got so distracted I almost slammed my bicycle right into her. Instead, I rode off into the sand and sort of flopped over, bike and all. The woman whose buns had thrown me for such a loop stopped her bicycle, put one tanned bare foot down onto the pavement and turned to look back at me. That really wiped me out.

Margot’s ass may have been her finest feature, but her wide set green eyes and broad smile, which flashed between two dimples deeper than the Grand Canyon, all framed by a mop of wild blonde curly hair, certainly gave her delightful bottom a run for its money. Not to mention a healthy pair of silky, sun kissed breasts. Yes, all around a fairly tasty package, I thought. Enough to make me lie back in the sand and play the victim.

She stood over me and inquired, Are you alright? What happened?

Thinking I could perhaps dazzle her with country bumpkinisms, I told her, Where I come from, there are laws against looking so beautiful. She laughed and offered me a hand up. It was warm and soft and strong. We walked our bikes alongside each other for the entire length of the boardwalk, talking and getting to know each other, and at the end Margot invited me to her apartment for a Gatorade.

I live right up there, overlooking the pier, she said, pointing to a balcony above the boardwalk. We locked our bikes together and I followed her firm bottom up the stairs. Man, was I tempted to grab it!

We watched the sunset from Margot’s balcony, first drinking Gatorade, then beers, and eventually we wound up talking about losing our virginity. Her story had me pretty turned on not like I wasn’t turned on just from looking at her, mind you. When I kept shifting uncomfortably in the deck chair, it was like she knew how I felt.

Yeah, talking about this kind of stuff turns me on, too. I wondered how turned on. I put my hand on her bare thigh and she immediately moved closer to me, which kind of answered my question.

Hey, I’ve got an idea, she said, setting down her beer and standing up. What do you say we get this sexual tension out of the way? I just about choked on my beer. Well, it is distracting, isn’t it? I had to agree, but all I could do was nod. Okay then, come ‘ere. With that, Margot slipped her bikini bottoms down her luscious tan legs. She kicked them aside and draped herself over the balcony railing, pushing her delectable ass right into my disbelieving face. Come on, let that poor cock of yours out and put it in me. I simply cannot carry on a conversation when all I can think of is fucking. So let’s get on with it.

She wasn’t making it sound terribly romantic, but I wasn’t about to pass up an opportunity to make love to this paragon of California perfection. I staggered out of my deck chair and struggled with my drawstring shorts, yanked them down to my ankles and waddled over to Margot. She was right about our storytelling turning her on. My cock slipped along her slick folds the second I pressed up against her. I slid in to the hilt in one swift motion, but when I started to screw her, she stopped me.

Okay, now that you’ve got it wet, stick it in my ass.

Excuse me? I asked politely.

Fuck me in the ass. It’s been weeks since I’ve gotten it that way and it’s really the only way I like it. See, I don’t come from regular intercourse. With anal sex, you get off and I get off, maybe even at the same time, if we’re lucky. It’s really the best way.

Now, I’d had anal sex a couple of times with past girlfriends, but it was usually after much cocktailing and cajoling on my part. I loved the way my cock felt all snug inside a tight rectum, but I’d never found a woman who enjoyed it half as much as I did. Until Margot. She sounded pretty convincing.

I pointed my glistening cock at her puckered hole and she wriggled her ass toward me. With one hand guiding my cock and one hand attempting to still Margot’s wriggling ass, I started to get inside her.

That’s it, nice and slow. Ooh, you feel great in there, she cooed, and I popped my cockhead past the muscle. She was so tight, I wanted to just stand like that for a while, but Margot kept wriggling at me. More, please, but slow . . . nice and slow. I like it slow at first, and then once you’re all the way in go hard . . . and fast.

I continued to slowly work my cock into Margot’s ass, pulling out a bit and then pushing back in just a little bit further until I was buried deep, my pubic hair matted against her asshole. With both hands free, I reached around and gave her breasts a few quick squeezes, but what I really wanted to do was play with her ass. So, as she begged me to speed things up, I started working my cock in and out of her asshole a bit more roughly, and I gave her ass a few playful little slaps. Then I just grabbed at the muscular flesh and kneaded it and closed my eyes.

Margot was really getting into it and I saw her arm moving, so I knew she was playing with herself. I lay across her back and listened to her little moans so I’d know just when she was about to come. I’ve got great control and I wanted us to get lucky, as she’d said, and come at the same time. My hands never left her smooth, round behind as I slammed into her. I pushed and squeezed while she rubbed and wriggled, and when her moans got louder and her voice went up about an octave, I knew she was ready.

I got a good grip on her ass and rammed my cock as deep into her as I could a few times, and she let out a groan that made one or two of the moonlight bikers down on the boardwalk look around. I let go at the same time, filling her up with what felt like a quart of come, groaning as well. I could feel her muscles echoing my spasms as I rested against her back, exhausted. For a few minutes we just stood like that, listening to the waves and each other. When I thought that maybe she’d passed out or fallen asleep or something, she whispered, That was awesome. She started to straighten up and I pulled my wilting cock out of her asshole with a juicy pop.

Yes, I’d have to agree with you there, I said, reaching down to hoist my surf shorts.

Now, where were we? Margot said, climbing into her bikini and sitting back down on her deck chair. Such spontaneity, I swear! And it was just as spontaneous and equally awesome the next, like, hundred times I gave it to Margot in the ass. She loved it and I loved it, and I’ll never forget those first few months on the Pacific, watching the sun set over Margot’s perfect little ass.

Mr. T.S., Maine