When we moved I took a week off work and spent several days getting the house up straight. Then, on the third day, needing a bit of a break, I decided to explore the wardrobe room. As I entered the room, I saw, on a little wooden chair, a large, elegantly covered, scrap book. On the front was printed a title:
The Wardrobe Mistress
On top of the book was a letter with my name on it. Inside the letter Polly again described how her hobby had become a passion. ‘This book represents years of work, it will open up a whole new world. Use the ideas, build on them – go on, have faith in your imagination!’
I picked up the book and leafed through the pages. It made fascinating reading. There were detailed descriptions of various fantasies. She’d added little notes when a fantasy had been re-played and improved upon. Perhaps she’d used different language or spoken or acted differently. She may have changed or modified the clothing or added accessories. Polly seemed to have perfected a number of roles. Reading about my aunt’s adventures was both erotic and arousing. I admired her guts but couldn’t see myself dressing up like that, Mathew would just laugh.
Later that day, when Mathew returned home, I was in the bath. Several minutes after his arrival he called out to me, asking if I wanted a drink. A little later, I heard him mounting the stairs and I quickly arranged the foamy bubble bath around me and lay in a seductive pose. He came in with a glass of wine.
‘I’m just going to watch the football, love,’ he said as handed me the glass. He smiled and walked back out. I lay there for a few minutes, disappointed by the lack of interest in my nakedness. Sod it, I thought, we were definitely in a rut and I needed to do something about it. I dried myself and, glass in hand, wandered through to the wardrobe room. I was nervous but excited.
Leafing through Polly’s scrapbook I picked a scenario that wouldn’t prove too taxing for a beginner and read her notes. It was a simple game, I just needed the confidence to carry it off. After a little searching I found the ‘equestrian’ outfit and followed Polly’s guidelines.
First, I hung fine, beaded tassels from my nipples. Then I put on
tight beige riding trousers, followed by a tailored, beige riding jacket. I only buttoned the middle of the jacket, which left plenty of cleavage showing. Next, I put on leather riding boots, scraped back my hair and applied lipstick and eye make up. I put on a hard, black, velvet covered riding cap and, with riding crop in hand, inspected the final result in the mirror. The overall result was a rather haughty look. Although a little nervous, I was also feeling aroused. Strangely, the outfit made me feel rather superior.
I wandered downstairs and entered the lounge where Mathew was watching television. I walked slowly, authoritatively, in front of the television and whacked the riding crop against my buttocks. I’d caught his attention.
‘Do you like the outfit, it’s one of many Aunt Polly left me.’
He looked me up and down.
‘You’ll need a horse if you’re going to take up riding.’
‘Oh, I think I’ve found the animal I want to ride, just need to check it out, make sure I’ve got a stallion with stamina. Stand up.’
Mathew looked bemused but he also looked interested. He stood up.
‘What’s all this about then?’
I walked over to him, stood by his side and tapped his bottom with my crop.
‘Get undressed I’ll need to make a full inspection. Come on, Mathew,’ I said, sternly, ‘haven’t got all day. I want to get some riding done.’
The admonishment further aroused Mathew’s interest. He began stripping and as he did so, I made appreciative noises. When he was fully undressed his cock was half erect. I walked around him, inspecting his naked body. I ran my crop up and down his back and gently tapped his bottom.
‘Mmmm, good flanks, fine legs, good, strong back …’
Mathew’s cock was now fully erect. I ran the tip of the crop slowly up and down its length.
‘That’s beautiful,’ I said. ‘I need a strong, smooth, sturdy saddle when I’m riding. The gentle tapping and stroking with the riding crop was having the desired effect. Mathew let out a little gasp. I was now fully immersed in my new role.
‘I think this stallion needs to get his oats tonight. I’m going to make sure you’re well fed. First of all though, you need a little exercise. Down on all fours!’
Mathew did as he was told. I climbed on his back, took a red, silk scarf from my pocket, leant forward and whispered in his ear.
‘Just need to put some reins on you, don’t want you getting out of control.’
I placed the middle of the scarf in Mathew’s mouth, then sat upright. I held both ends of the scarf in one hand, pulled back his head and gave his bottom a sharp tap with my riding crop.
‘Come on now, a nice gentle ride to begin with.’
I was enjoying myself and thoroughly turned on. Mathew carried me slowly around the living room. The riding trousers I was wearing had been ingeniously adjusted. An opening had been made in the crotch of the trousers. Each side of the opening had been lined with a thin sliver of soft fur. I moved my hand down and pushed my fingers through the fur into my pussy. I played with myself for a little while, enjoying the feeling of Mathew’s back between my legs, massaging me as he carried me around the room. It was time to spoil myself a little more.
‘Whoa, whoa,’ I commanded and Mathew halted. I got off him, removing his silk halter, stood over him and raised his chin with my crop.
‘That was a nice ride. I think you’ll need a little drink now, because soon I’m going to ride you very hard.’
I walked over to a big, soft comfy armchair, sat in it and spread my legs wide, hanging a leg over each side of the armchair. The fur lining between my legs parted revealing my pussy.
‘Come on over here, Beauty.’
Mathew let out a mock whinny and I laughed. He came over on all fours and began to pleasure me, licking and nuzzling my pussy.
‘You are a thirsty stallion,’ I groaned as I felt his tongue and excited breath caressing my pussy. I used my crop to tap his shoulders, giving instructions to speed up or slow down, until he brought me to orgasm. Then I had to put my boots on Mathew’s shoulders and push him away as he was still licking voraciously and I wanted cock, I wanted to ride.
‘Lie down on your back,’ I ordered.
His cock was twitching with excitement. I knelt down astride him, put the silk halter behind his neck and, holding on to the two ends with one hand, I reached back with my other hand and fed his cock into me. We both groaned. I began to move back and forth, holding onto my silk reins with one hand and using the crop on his thigh with the other.
‘Just a gentle canter at first,’ I moaned. ‘Not too fast,’ I commanded as Mathew was beginning to buck beneath me, losing control. I was a little harsher with the crop and he slowed down.
‘That’s better … my, my, this is hard work,’ I panted. ‘I need to cool down a little.’
I undid my jacket and my tasselled tits stood out proud, bouncing up and down. I watched Mathew’s face and felt his body react with excitement. Again, he began to buck beneath me.
‘That’s good, faster, faster.’
Mathew took hold of my hips and turned me over. I didn’t have the strength to stop him and didn’t want to. I was now on my back, legs over his shoulders and he was ferociously pumping into me.
‘Come on stallion, that’s it, take me to the finish line.’
I could hardly get any words out, I was panting so much. As Mathew pumped into me I gripped a cheek of his bottom with one hand and beat the other cheek with my riding crop, screaming out as I reached orgasm. I felt Mathew shudder and his buttocks tighten as he came. He collapsed on top of me, breathing hard.
‘What have you done with my wife?’ he laughed, when he’d recovered. ‘Enjoy it?’
‘That was amazing, darling, thank you.’
I told him all about Aunt Polly’s gift. I took him upstairs and showed him the ward
robe’s contents. He was plainly excited. Since that day our sex life has been wonderful.
Know what? Mathew said he’s going to start his own collection. I’m compiling a list of fantasies for him to think about. I’ve already written down a number of scenarios.
I’ve also added to my own wardrobe.
Once, maybe twice a week I surprise my husband. I ring him at work and utter a sentence that he says makes him instantly hard.
Tonight, Mathew … I am going to be …
The Waterfall
by Katie Lilly
The first time I saw her she was wearing ugly brown walking sandals, stone-coloured shorts and a tight cotton t-shirt, unsuitable for the narrow, overgrown woodland from which she had just emerged. As she stepped out of the earthy darkness into the shimmering light at the base of the waterfall, she was covered with dirt, sweat and leaves. I imagined her making her way down the slippery path with short, cautious steps, her arms outstretched for balance and to brush away the damp foliage from her face – the tragic heroine of a film.
She was about 35 years old, slender, with long, dark hair clinging to her dirt-speckled face. She walked to the edge of the pool and crouched down. As she scooped up the water and splashed it over her face, droplets fell and, together with the dirt, created a pattern across her chest. Standing up she glanced around before pulling the t-shirt over her head and slipping out of her shorts to reveal a simple black cotton bra and matching thong. As she was slowly wading into the water she stopped, expertly unclipped the bra with one hand and flung it onto the rock where she had left her other clothes. She continued wading into the water, wearing only her sandals and black thong.
The base of the waterfall was peaceful, missed by most of the tourists who walked along the upper path, took a couple of quick snaps and moved on. There was a group of large, grey rocks which helped squeeze the river into a kidney-shaped pool with two eddies of water either side. The whole pool was surrounded by trees and lush, green vegetation. The gushing rush of the water cascading from above filled the air but I found the noise soothing and relaxing.
I was lounging upon one of the rocks directly opposite the waterfall. On my back with my arms above my head, bent at the elbows to form a pillow, I was enjoying the warm sunshine on my naked body. At 42 years old, proud of my physique, I kept fit by walking, cycling and swimming. Enjoying the natural surroundings of the waterfall, I felt a little bubble of frustration at the interruption, nevertheless I watched her with fascination.
With the water lapping around her waist she stopped and began to playfully splash in the water. Scooping up the freshness with both hands she poured it over her head and face, rubbing her arms and small, pale breasts as the water cascaded over her skin. Aroused by her actions I grabbed my cock and, forming an open fist, began to masturbate. I was watching her and, as she waded closer to my position, I slid down the rock to cool my erection in the water. At this moment, her lightly tanned, slender body dipped under the water and emerged with a whoosh a few moments later, about ten feet in front of me.
“Hello there,” I said, looking into her big brown eyes and smiling. She was clearly surprised and I can recall her expression as she pushed her hair from her face to return my stare, before casually crossing her arms to shield her breasts from my gaze.
“Hello.”
“Beautiful here isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is truly amazing.”
“I was walking along the top path but couldn’t resist taking a peek.”
She smiled, “Me too.”
I can’t recall how long we were talking for, but I can remember the shimmering sun moving slowly across the water and, by the time our conversation drew to a close, my rock was in shadow. I found out her name was Heather and she was here alone to recover from a failed relationship in which her partner of almost two years had found someone new to be with. She was talking for most of the time and I was happy to listen. Her voice was light and crisp, her vocabulary betraying a love of literature; the many references to places across America, Europe and Asia, revealing her love of travel.
I was still leaning against the cold, grey stone but was now propped up on my elbows, absorbing the flow of information from her pale, round lips and trying to catch a glimpse of her covered breasts. She shivered a little in the cooling water and I felt my arousal once again. With my lower torso hidden under the water I relaxed and let my cock get hard.
She suddenly dipped under and I lost sight of her. A moment later I felt a rush of undercurrent and warmth around my cock. She flicked her tongue a couple of times around its head and sucked hard to let me know she was there, before surfacing for breath. I eagerly pushed her head back down to show her what I wanted and she was soon back under the water, her tongue working up and down my shaft, her warm juices in contrast to the cool water. This time as she surfaced for air, I lifted my body out of the water and leaned back on the rock, exposing myself for her delight. Placing her arms either side of my thighs she formed a wide, rigid oval with her mouth and took my cock deep inside.
Leaning back I lifted my arse in time to her movements, pushing myself deeper within her. Closing my eyes I listened to the rustle of the trees and the flow of the waterfall intermingled with her soft groaning. The sensations rippling through my cock, travelled up and down my body, causing my temperature to rise and my breath to quicken. I knew if she didn’t stop I would soon come, so I reached down and gently tugged at her hair. Lifting her face to mine, my tongue replaced my cock between her pale, round lips as the afternoon sun kissed our bodies.
Heather hadn’t planned her encounter with Roger. She was walking along a lightly gravelled path about five feet wide, shown as the easy route on her map, from the mountain village to the waterfall. Hoping for a pleasant afternoon stroll she was only wearing walking sandals, shorts and a t-shirt, not her usual boots and long trousers to protect her legs from insect bites and tics. The path was encased by woodland but the trees were spread thinly and the hot sun was making its mark on her pale, freckled skin. Stopping to drink from a plastic bottle she was carrying, she noticed it was almost empty and hoped she would find a water outlet or spring soon. They weren’t marked on the map and she would have missed the last one if it hadn’t have been for a ‘call of nature’ which took her into the woodland.
Heather was enjoying the holiday, the nature, the beauty and the walking. At times she found it difficult to let her mind relax and her thoughts often wandered back to Mike. She would ask herself all the pointless questions that people often did – why wasn’t he happy, what does she have that I don’t, and would she ever find someone? Overall however, the trip was a resounding success and she did feel a spiritual rejuvenation. The hotel was nice and other guests were friendly although she was a little disappointed that most of them were a good 20 years older than her.
She was pushing back the tangled green mass of ferns to capture a photograph of the waterfall when she spotted a water outlet. Next to the copper pipe was a crude wooden sign with two blue wavy lines and an arrow which was pointing into the undergrowth. Realising it was probably a path, Heather was soon following it in her search of a better photographic vantage point. After half an hour of difficult walking she reached the end of the path and stepped into the sunlight at the base of the waterfall.
She had seen Roger almost as soon as she entered the water. He was about 40 years old with a shaved head covered in a couple of week’s worth of dark grey stubble. He had silvery blue eyes, a Roman nose, thin lips and unusually high cheekbones. His broad chest was covered in matching dark grey curls which curved in a snake over his lower abdomen. She couldn’t help but admire his tanned physique. As she approached he lowered his torso into the water but the crystal clear pool didn’t hide his fully erect cock, suspended a couple of inches under the surface.
The sight of his readiness aroused her and, with arms folded across her chest, Heather was able to discreetly play with her nipples. It was on impulse that she slid under t
he water, swam towards him and captured his cock as if it was Halloween and she was apple bobbing. As he yanked her from the water and pushed his tongue inside her mouth, she inhaled the heavy scent of his musk and the odour of the damp foliage surrounding them. As she returned his kiss, a fantasy played across her mind, with the handsome stranger, the beautiful waterfall and the newly single woman anxious for adventure.
Parting her legs she straddled him and pushed her pelvis against his cock, the friction of her wet thong rubbing against his taught skin. Detaching from his mouth she leaned back and repositioned her pelvis so his cock was rubbing directly over her clit, stimulating the juices held back by the thin black cotton. Grabbing a breast in each of her hands she massaged them and was flicking at the nipples with her fingernails while he watched with delight. Sensing an orgasm building within her, she increased the pace of her rubbing and, as she closed her eyes and held her breath, she dug her nails deep into the pale pink tips. Heather shuddered and took a deep, noisy breath as a surge of energy radiated out from her body and she climaxed.
Roger immediately pulled at her thong and yanked it aggressively to one side, exposing a cleanly shaved cunt.
“I love shaved pussy,” he said, sliding his fingers along the creamy, smooth flesh before exploring inside. Taking the weight on her legs, Heather tilted her pelvis to allow him deeper inside. She was filled with her own juice and ready for more as she reached down and pulled his hand away, grabbing his cock and sliding it inside.
“Fuck me,” she said, smiling.
Roger grabbed her arse and, lifting his pelvis, slid her flesh up and down his shaft, controlling the pace at a slow glide. Heather let him guide her movements at first, but, as her excitement built and the urge for more of his hardness to fill her became stronger, she pushed harder, deeper and increased the pace.
“Slow down or I’ll come.”
She obeyed his command and eased back a little to give him a lighter ride, but Roger was unable to contain himself any longer. She felt his body shudder and, as he gasped for air, his cock exploded, shooting its hot, creamy satisfaction deep inside. As quick as a rocket Heather lifted off and, with his semi-hardness nestled under her nude pussy, she let out a torrent of hot, steamy liquid and covered him with her piss. Leaning forward she placed her lips on his and kissed him until she had released every drop of her golden delight and then she slid into the water.
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