Night With Mommy

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Night With Mommy Page 57

by Sofia Connor


  Cassie slowly lifted her sea green eyes, looked at him as if he was somewhere else, then smiled, she kissed him softly.

  'Where are we going Lee?'

  'I'm not going anywhere Cassie, I've found you, I'm keeping you!' he told her.

  'But it's all wrong Lee, can't you see that?' She told him. 'I am here under duress, although nothing can ever take away what I'm feeling right now. This has been my best day and night for so many years, and I am more than happy to be your woman, for now?' she added.

  'For now?' he asked quizzically.

  'Yes Lee, my blackmail has to stop if you want to keep seeing me, I won't put up with it, I should have had the strength to say no in the first place, but I'm so glad I didn't honey.' She said as her lips found his again.

  'Let's come to an agreement Cass,' he said, 'you convince me I'm wanted, and I'll dump everything.'

  'Haven't I already just done that 2 minutes ago?' she giggled that giggle that nearly killed him, he loved it.

  He laughed out loud, 'we need to get to know each other, and I have a job to do, as you have babe.' He told her.

  'What is your job Lee?' she asked.

  'I work for several night club owners in different towns and cities, like a go between, it sounds boring but it isn't.'

  'Oh it does Lee.' She never asked him anymore thankfully.

  She took him into her shower where they frolicked for at least an hour, getting back to bed, he told her to get on her back, she did. He 69nd her for 30 minutes, he drove her crazy, her pussy was obliterated, he munched it, licked it, sucked it and fingered it, she had orgasm after orgasm. He also fingered her soon to be fucked arse hole.

  Cassie was in heaven, utopia, bliss, she loved everything about him, and what he was doing to her. She made several vain attempts to suck him to a climax, but he refused to allow it. His mind was on her arse, along with his eyes as he pounded her pussy with his mouth.

  Finishing up, he lay next to her, and after wiping his face off the copious amounts of her cum and love juices, he told her to lay next to him, her back spooned into him.

  She obeyed implicitly, gripping her tightly in his arms, trapping hers, his cock slid easily between her cheeks and into her sopping pussy. Cassie moaned in pleasure. He jammed it in and out several times before he pulled it back, slightly adjusted his hips, and drove up and into her unsuspecting brown hole.

  The stunned, stunted, silent scream that emitted from her lips would have brought people running had it been audible! 'Lee,' she screeched. 'Huh, oh Argggh, Ooooh, no, please, Argggh. Hmmmm, ah oh oooh,' her voice became ragged, raspy, throaty. She thrashed about in his arms, but she was locked in, and she was also trapped on his prick, she had no way of getting off!

  He pumped at her, soon the pain quieted her, her body made her lay still, accept it, and it seemed to understand that it would be better to surrender. Surrender she did.

  Sensing her capitulation, he pushed forward, and Cassie rolled onto her stomach with Lee securely on top.

  Then he fucked what had been her tight hole, she moaned in pain, which then grew into submission, followed by definite pleasure.

  Lee reached under her and rubbed her clit, Cassie exploded once more. 'How many orgasms can one woman have in such a short space of time,' she asked herself in a rare lucid moment.

  She bent head and Lee took all she had, he blasted vast amounts of cum into her, 'she would never recover her mind after this,' she told herself.

  He pulled out slowly, Cassie felt her bowels emptying, and she would swear she heard a plop as it did!

  Lee rolled onto his back, Cassie stayed where she was, she couldn't move, she was done for.

  In all her life she had never fucked, nor been fucked like this. She thought of her dear deceased husband, a tear filled her eyes. 'I hope you are okay with this Ronnie?' she said to him in her lovely head.

  Cassie was laid face down, total surrender, complete submission, and so very happy and satisfied. 'He really must think a lot about me?' she hoped.

  She felt him lift her hair from the back of her neck. The next thing she knew he had his mouth clamped on it, he was biting and sucking, she couldn't stop him, her strength was gone.

  Lee left an enormous hickey on her.

  'Just to keep you reminded of whom you belong to Mrs Watson!' he smiled.

  'Yes Lee, I already know baby.' She answered.

  They spent the rest of the day talking and loving. Cassie learned of Lee's losing fight with school to get the education he had wanted. She sympathised, 'but it was unusual' she told him.

  Cassie resolved to do something about it.

  The following night when she came home, she and Lee carried into her house a massive amount of books and other teaching paraphernalia.

  'What's all this for Cassie?' he asked between molesting her luscious body, with her begging him not to, 'not just yet baby,' she said, as they kissed passionately.

  He won, she lost, they made frantic love on the kitchen table.

  Later, she explained that he was moving in permanently with her, and that she would teach him, he would enrol in night classes when it suited, and get him his qualifications, or die in the attempt.

  Lee accepted it for the stupid idea that it was, and agreed. But told Cassie that he would visit his mother on a daily basis, and he explained why. Cassie agreed totally.

  Their life became one, the film, stills and e mails were all ceremoniously deleted and destroyed. She often worried about the age gap, but Lee was unconcerned, and 10 months later they had a baby. Her children loved him, especially 21 year old Karen, Cassie's daughter, who had let him know she was available if he needed a change? And she giggled in the very same way her mother did!

  He thanked her, and told her he might take her up on her kind offer one day?

  The End.

  Brief Encounter

  It's early morning and I haven't slept in days. The sun is brushing up against the horizon and the last twinkle of the stars is fading into a rich blue glow behind the silhouettes of the trees. I've been working at the club all night, drinking vodka and smoking cigarettes. The air is chill and fresh and it makes my eyes feel hollow and my body feel sharp.

  I come to your house and quietly I let myself in. I make two cups of coffee and take them up the stairs. I feel greasy and tired and I think about borrowing your shower but as I get upstairs I hear the water running. You're up already and in the shower, getting ready for your day. I go into your room and I sit on the bed and sip my coffee while I listen to you showering. I kick off my shoes and wiggle my toes on your carpet.

  The water shuts off and I can feel myself waiting; waiting for you to come into the room. I sip my coffee and watch the door.

  You walk in, one towel wrapped round your body, another for your hair. You see me on the bed and flash me a daring little smile. You're not surprised to see me here, although you never ask how I get in. I take another slug of coffee and just watch you dry your hair and brush it back.

  Watching you fills me with an urge to touch you. Maybe it's the way you move your hair, the way you watch yourself in the mirror while you brush. I trace the contours of your body with my eye. The towel hides a lot, but my imagination fills in the gaps.

  I rise smoothly and walk up to you. You pause, holding the brush in your hair. I walk up close, so I'm just a few inches from you. Your eyes are wide and beautiful. Your mouth is slightly open as if you were about to say something but it didn't quite come out. I reach up and gently take hold of the brush. You don't resist as I slide it out of your hand.

  Part of me worries that I stink of the nightclub, of smoke and alcohol. I know I should take a shower. But you're right here in front of me. Your breathing is almost timid like you're scared to move. Part of me worries that if I go to shower you might get dressed before I can come back. Worse, you might rush off to work and escape me completely.

  I drop the hairbrush on the floor. We don't break eye contact so much as a glance to see where it
falls. I lick my lips and I can feel my own breath. I tilt my head toward the wall.

  "Turn around."

  You turn, keeping your eyes on me as long as you can, until you're facing the wall. I gently put my hand on the small of your back and push you. You resist a little at first, uncertain of what I'm trying to do. Then you take a step. I keep the pressure on with my hand and guide you forward the few more steps it takes to get you up against the door. I hear you swallow and feel the tension in your body.

  I stand close behind you and I can smell the shampoo on your hair and the fresh scent of your clean skin. I take a fist full of the towel at the back and pull at it gently. You try to step back as I pull, but I hold you still with my other hand. The towel comes undone and I drop it to the floor.

  You stand still, your breasts just brushing the gloss wood of the door, your arms at your sides, your legs just slightly apart. You shiver just a little and I wonder if it's the excitement or just the cool air on your damp body.

  I place my hand at the small of your back and slide it slowly up you -- up over the smooth, soft skin of your back, my palm curving round your shoulder blade as my fingers touch your hair. I move my hand up to the nape of your neck. My fingers curl round one side, my thumb the other. I gently massage the sides of your neck, enjoying the way your hair cascades off the back of my hand.

  I step up close and I can feel the fly of my jeans brush up against your ass. I keep stroking your neck and you murmur quietly to yourself, little pleasure noises in your throat. You rock your head to one side to let my fingers slide up to your ear, my palm cupping the back of your head.

  I step forward, my body pressing you up to the wood. You gasp and flinch; I guess the wood much be a cold shock on your hot stomach. I don't give an inch, I keep you pressed up firmly; the door will be warm soon enough. I feel the way your ass pushes against me and you try to keep yourself from the cold wood. It presses my jeans up against my panties; my panties up against my pussy.

  I realize how hot I've become. My hands tremble slightly and I find I want to just rub up against your ass. I want to press you up against the door until you feel like you're fucking the woodwork.

  My tits are squashed up against your back and I can hold you here without need of my hands now. I put one hand on each of your shoulders and I run my fingertips down your arms. You're trembling so bad I think you might just collapse to the floor if I let you go. I rock my hips, rubbing up against you, rubbing you against the door. You lean your head back onto my shoulder and I put my fingers on your lips.

  You bite my finger and the sharp sting of pain makes me twitch. I force myself up against you harder and you gasp and moan. I slide my hand round your shoulder, my fingers clawing across your throat, and I arch you back slightly while I thrust my hips forward. The door bangs in the frame as I push you up on it again.

  Then your hand is between us, your palm facing out, you fingers seeking along my jeans until you grab the belt hooks. Your thumb finds the top button and you press at it, fumbling to undo me. I want you to. I want to be naked and up against you. I back up just enough to give you access, but I don't help you. My hands are busy.

  I hold you steady with one hand and I slide one the round your chest, slipping my fingers down between your breasts, rubbing down the center line with two fingers. I want to pull your hair and I want to put a hand between your legs. I just don't have enough hands. I explore your chest, teasing your nipples with my nails, rubbing firmly round the curve of your breasts.

  My jeans come undone and at once your hand slides into the front, your fingers grabbing roughly against my panties. I move forward again, trapping your hand between us. Your wrist pressed against your ass and your fingers pressing the cloth of my panties hard into my pussy. I try to bite your ear but get a mouthful of hair.

  You're trying to push your ass out and I'm rubbing myself up against it while your fingers wiggle up between my legs, trying to work round the edge of my underwear. I use my hand on your chest to hold you now and move my other hand round your hip, curving round the front until my fingers find the hot wet lip of your pussy.

  My jeans are slipping down my thighs and you manage to pull my panties aside. I feel your finger pushing into me and I mirror with my own finger on you. I'm breathing hot in your ear and I wonder if you can smell the vodka in my breath. I want to eat you. I want to fuck you so hard you scream my name.

  Each time you move your finger I do the same. You slide it in, hooking at the hot, wet flesh and I curl my finger in you. I move on my toes, rubbing my chest on your back. My bra rubs against my breasts and I wish I was naked. I can't stop now to undress. I don't want to change anything in case you stop moving your fingers in me. I'm so hot I could burst.

  I move both hands between your legs, relying on the fact that you're leaning your top half on the door to keep balance. I rub my palm over your clit while my other hand pushes into you. My breath is coming out in uneven gasps and shivers. My legs feel unsteady. I push up onto my toes, my calves twitching and I know I'm going to cum first.

  I don't try to fight it. I let your fingers guide me. You must know how close I am because you start to rub slow and firm up the front of my pussy and I tremble against you. It rises in me like a flood; from my toes to my throat every nerve pulls taught at once. I feel my whole body shudder as the wave breaks and escapes my mouth in a long silent cry.

  For a moment I can't do anything but stand there, bathed in the glow and the warmth of your body. I open and close my mouth a few times, trying to work out how to breathe. Then the air slips from my lungs in a sigh.

  I slide myself off your fingers and I can feel my arms are shaking. You're standing naked up against the door. My arms are still around you; my hands are still clutching your pussy.

  I move smoothly and firmly, taking your shoulder in my hand and turning you round to face me. I push my lips onto yours and find your mouth is hot and open. I push my tongue into your mouth, hungry for you. I can taste the mint of your toothpaste. I dread to think what you can taste in my mouth.

  I stand up close to you so that your nipples brush my t-shirt with every move I make. I slide my hand up between your legs and gently caress you. I run my finger slowly along the lips of your pussy, from one end right to the other. You're trembling again and I hold you steady with one hand on your shoulder while I rub you with long, rocking strokes. I kiss your neck, your throat, your collar. I nuzzle up against you and lick your ear.

  I can feel your body shaking. I can pull you right to the edge with just the tip of my finger. You dig your toes into the carpet and lean your head on the door. Your eyes are closed. Your mouth is open. Your legs are losing control.

  I'm barely touching now. Each little brush of my nail on your clit makes you convulse right through your whole body. I keep touching. You're going to cum. I can feel it. You can't hold it much longer.

  I slide my finger up into you all the way. A firm, slow thrust until my palm feels your wet lips. You gasp and shake. I rock my hand up against you. Your knees fold under you and you grab hold of me to steady yourself. You bury your face in my chest and cling to me; your whole body rocking like an earthquake.

  You twitch for ages, each little spasm coupled with a gasping breath. You fingers dig into my shoulders and I feel like I'm supporting your whole body with my one hand. After long, glorious moments, you pull your hips away. I feel your body slide off my fingers leaving them sticky and wet, cooling in the air.

  I wrap my arms about you and we stand a moment, hugging in the early morning light, your body still trembling with aftershocks. You look up, your eyes shining like stars. Your cheeks and throat are flushed red and hot. I kiss you tenderly. You brush my cheek with your hand.

  You dress quickly while I sit on the bed and watch you. I've probably made you a little late for work, but I hope it was worth it. Once you're ready, you kiss me and run.

  I lie back on your bed, my jeans still undone and open. I can still smell you in the roo
m. I feel warm like I'm wrapped in cotton wool; safe in the cocoon of your home. I know I should shower. I know I should probably eat something. But I just want to stay here for a while remembering your body, your heat, your eyes.

  The End.

  The Sewing Class

  My wife (2nd marriage ) divorced me because she could not deal with my cross dressing. It was actually the best thing that could have ever happened to me. I proceeded to get my own apartment where I would not have to hide my wardrobe and I could come and go as I pleased. Except for going to work, I started to live dressed up as a woman almost all the time.

  My goal at the time was to transition completely but I was denied hormone therapy I would have needed because of medical reasons as a result of bypass surgery. Still I enjoyed my life as a woman.

  I soon gathered up many cross dressing friends and transsexuals and life was one big party. I loved shopping for pretty dresses and shoes and of course my kid leather gloves and boots, and of course leather skirts and coats. I was always attracted to prom dresses and ball gowns especially in satin. Perhaps it was because when I was younger, my mother who was a wonderful dressmaker would use me to model long dresses that she would be working on . I also grew partial to satin bridal dresses and developed a fetish for anything in satin.

  One day I was reading an ad for evening sewing classes which were to be held at the local high school. I thought that it would be fun to learn how to sew my own dresses and that it would be an opportunity to meet women as well.

  Needless to say, I was the only male who enrolled along with 12 women. They all giggled a little to see a man wanting to learn how to sew. I told them of how my mother had been a great dressmaker and of how she would have me wear dresses for her to work on. I also confessed that I enjoyed dressing in women's clothes and wanted to make my own ball gowns. None of the women were really shocked at this. They all thought that I was kidding them until I showed them pictures of me dressed as a woman. They all agreed that I looked pretty good as a woman. One of the ladies even went so far as to say that it would be OK if I came to class dressed as a woman and that it would make things interesting. They all agreed that I should dress for class and from that day on I came to all the classes in my nicest clothes.

 

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