Cyn for Short

Introduction

To Whom It May Concern:

That sounds ominous, but I’m taking the day off from work, I called in sick actually which may be reasonably justifiable. I needed to get some things down in my mind and in print but I don’t know yet who I’m going to share them with first, it may just end up being for me.

Three and a half weeks ago I let my car pool buddies completely undress me, I mean completely. They removed all of the conservative clothing my husband watched me leave the house in to go to work, and then during the commute they re-dressed me the way they wanted me to be, in sexy clothes for their amusement throughout the day at work. On the way home they undressed the naughty me, kept me naked for almost 45 minuets in the car before they re-dressed me like the conservative wife I’ve have been for 18 years and took me home to my husband who had no idea what his sweet wife had been up to since I left that morning.

Right now I’m trying to figure a way to tell my Husband, who by the way I still love so deeply it hurts, how his faithful, supposedly religious wife has become so slutty she lets any man fuck her any where and anyhow he wants. Obviously, I’m afraid he will throw me out on my ass, but I’m becoming so reckless, I know it’s only a matter of time before he finds out on his own, and then I think it will even be worse. This is my first attempt at confession or explaining the situation, so please don’t be too quick to judge until you know everything. This is a long story, so if you don’t have the time to get to know me, so you can understand, please don’t even start reading it.

My name is Cynthia Jamison, as I said; this is my attempt to describe to myself at least, if no one else, my journey of descent into obsession. There is a tendency in my nature akin to submissiveness that I think comes as result of a life that was rigidly structured where I was taught that abstinence, control and purity of thought was the only way to joy and salvation. It was a way of doing things in denial of ones’ natural interest to satisfy their personal needs or gratifying ones’ own passions. I think it left me somewhat submissive to someone with a strong or more dominant nature, and it left me extremely curious about all the things I was not permitted to enjoy.

Today I’m 37 years old, married 18 of them to one husband, Craig, 41 years old. I have one son by the name of Troy, almost 18, and two daughters, Wendy, 16 going on 21; and Alison (Ali for short), just turned 14. We live in a nice but modest home West of Portland, Oregon in Forest Grove. I am 5ft 3in tall and keep myself between 115 and 130 lbs in weight. I wear a size 6 or 8 dress so I’m petit and pixy like in appearance. I wear the size 6 or squeeze into a 4 if I want to look sexier. My measurements are 34 x 27 x 36. My hips are supple but not fatty and I think I have a very sexy round ass. I usually wear a 34 C bra for comfort, but when I wear a B cup, it pulls me together and creates a sexy cleavage and fullness in my breasts that shows nicely above a low cut bra.

I think my best feature however is my legs which seem long although I’m not really tall and are very smooth with well toned calves and thighs that I have kept hidden beneath standard issue pantyhose for much too long. I don’t try to tan much so there is a creamy whiteness to my skin that looks even more naked when I don’t cover them up with hoes or stockings. I think they alone have caused more than one lusty man to raise a nice hard on.

As a family, we still actively attended church together and have supported each other in school activities, intramural sports, work responsibilities and community service projects. I think it’s safe to say most people who know us would consider us to be good conservative chaste family.

I grew up in Helena, Montana in a family similar to the one I just described with two sisters and two brothers; I was next to the oldest. I was active in my church even then and we attended meetings together as a family every week. There weren’t many members of our church in Helena, but enough so that I wasn’t totally isolated in school. Throughout most of my high school years, I ended up dating only one boy, Eddy, who was not a member of my church.

A lot of emphasis was placed on morality in my family and church so my parents were constantly nervous about the amount of time Eddy and I spent together. He was so nice when ever my family was around that they worried less, but some of the kids in my church that were my age were worried because he was a boaster in the locker room and let people know he was not timid about sex, he cultivated and enjoyed his bad boy image! He wasn’t earning a wild reputation with me, but I wasn’t aware of anyone else he was seeing so I thought the reputation was undeserved and that our relationship was becoming more exclusive than he did.

During the first two years of high school, the thing between us was limited to friendship and I did not look at him romantically. Even as it started to be more romantic in my senior year, I thought he was nice and respectful to me all the time, even after we added kissing and cuddling to our activities, I wasn’t prepared to listen to any ones warnings and quickly came to his defense if anyone said anything negative about him.

We started to spend allot more time together as seniors and I thought it became obvious to others we were “an item”, and liked the idea. Eddy’s locker room reputation was well known by that time and several of my “churchy” friends tried hard to beak us up. Eddy was amused for the most part but got pretty upset a couple of times with their meddling.

One time in particular, he got really upset when he saw my friends verbally working me over with warnings and he angrily accused them of being up-tight goody-two-shoes that couldn’t come up with an original thought sexy or otherwise between the lot of them, and that all the teaching and moralizing by their church and families would make them sexless frigid housewives or dried up spinsters, then spun on his heels a stomped off leaving them with open mouths and shocked expressions and me wondering if I were included in his assessment or not.

“Are you like that Cyn?” He asked as he sensed me coming along side to catch up. He wondered if my affectionate nature was shallow and wouldn’t Permit me to loosen up or and have the kind of fun he liked. He didn’t really seem to be waiting for an answer, just sort of grumbled on, talking to no one in particular. I couldn’t understand what he was mumbling until he stopped and looked directly at me, as if to make sure I was following his line of thought and said. “When I reach out and grab your tit some day, you’ll probably break out in tears and run home to your mommy.”

I didn’t say anything, partly because I was intimidated by his declaration that some day he was going to do just that and partly because I feared that if I did run home when he did it, I would loose him, and I didn’t want that to happen. I said nothing no reassurance to sooth his ego, nothing at all, although I felt a strange almost perverse pleasure as I had watched his forceful exchange with my friends. I just looked at him waiting to see where this was going and what he was going to do, and wondered if he was still going to want me to come along.

By the time we got to Eddy’s car, the emotion and hostility in him had cooled and he became somewhat quiet, almost cool. He got in his side of the car and let me get in on the other side by myself. I think I believed there was more brooding in his manner than there actually was and for the first time, I wondered if our relationship was starting a downhill trend. I was soon t find out that the relationship was probably more solid than it should have been and that I was the only one who was going to start on a downhill stretch.

I looked at Eddy’s profile as he sat quietly behind the wheel and after what seemed like an eternity I quietly asked if he wasn’t happy with me or our relationship.

“Cynthia,” the use of my full name somehow made it seem he was getting a little serious and I thought oh no, here it comes. “I think you know by now that I have liked you for a long time, and now I almost think I like you too much.”

My heart jumped a little and asked, “What do you mean?”

“I just don’t know if we’re well matched is all.” He said.

“Not well matched, that doesn’t make much sense.” I said. “What do you mean?”

“How do I say this? You are, well you’re special if that doesn’t sound too corny.”

“It does sound corny to me.” I answered defensively. “What do you mean?”

“You’re a good “Church going girl” Cynthia, you’ve been raised with high standards and I just think you would be uncomfortable with the things I really like to do.” He admitted

“Now you are calling me a goody two shoes.” I said in mild defensive anger.

I’m not saying you’re stuck up or snooty or act like you’re too good for everyone else like some of your Church friends do, it’s just that I can’t imagine you doing the things I think some girls would.”

“What girls?” I said as I forced my eyebrows downward to make a stern face, “And what things?”

“No one in particular,” he said, “just any girl who has a sexy mind and likes to do sexy things.”

“So that’s it.” I said a little too hotly. “You’re not interested in me any more unless I let you have sexual intercourse with me, is that it?”

“Who the hell said anything about ‘sexual intercourse’? I’m talking about pretty tame things, just playing around here.” He reacted defensively. “You just seem a little up-tight.”

“Up-tight am I? Tell me ‘sweetness’ how am I so ‘up-tight’?”

“All right,” Eddy said, “I really love to look at legs, so pull up your skirt.”

I almost swallowed my tongue. In spite of all the lead up bantering I was not prepared for this move. I sat there silently waiting to see if he would let me off the hook, smile or say he was just joking, but he just stared at me. It was amazing, the longer he stared the stronger he became and the weaker I felt. At the same time, there was an unmistakable itch between my legs along with a slipperiness that was noticeable.

I had never masturbated in my life or even touched myself very much in an intimate way although I had become sexually exited before in being on the periphery of racy conversations and locker room teasing. It’s safe to assume that I had never experienced an orgasm, didn’t know what one was or how someone went about making one happen, but there was no doubt I had started on the road with mental foreplay as I watched Eddy’s eyes. Somehow I became certain in my own mind that if I failed to pass this test even with myself, I would not only loose Eddy forever, I would pass up an exiting opportunity to learn something sexy about myself and the wicked and forbidden side of life.

Pantyhose had taken the place of nylon stockings that were held up by girdles and garter belts in the 70’s and I had been raised as a practical girl so I had worn a skirt that day with plain white cotton panties underneath my conservative pantyhose; so I still felt well fortified and protected if more of my legs showed. The idea it wouldn’t be accidental and that someone else was taking control made the whole thing unnerving, but I liked this feeling of someone else being control; it excused me from feeling guilty over a little wickedness. The idea that someone else would take responsibility for what I was doing gave me a “devil made me do it” way out from my personal conscience.

After an agonizing period of debate in my mind, I surrendered. I slowly moved my hands down along the top of my thighs to the hem of my skirt and took hold at both sides of my knees. I gathered the material into my curling fingers and started to draw it upward. Eddy hadn’t told me how high to pull it up so when the friction between the back of my legs and the car’s seat made it difficult to continue, I stopped and turned to look at Eddy.

“I didn’t tell you to stop.” He said quietly and firmly as he sensed his growing control over me.

I realized he knew that I had given him control and I swallowed a lump deep in my throat, lifted myself a little and started to pull my skirt up again. Eddie said nothing as the hem reached the top of my legs; I’m sure my panties beneath my hose were coming into view. I stopped again and Eddy said nothing. We sat together looking at my legs until he quietly instructed me to open them. I had not been sitting close to him so there was a considerable space between us on the bench seat of Eddy’s old car. I slowly spread my thighs and my right knee soon reached the passenger door; and I continued to move the left leg until it came to rest up on the seat between us.

We both sat still, studying the scene created by my wide spread thighs and strained to see in the half light of a late afternoon in late winter. Our breathing continued in rapid staccato bursts and I was starting to feel dizzy and light-headed. Maybe I was hyperventilating.

“Take off your panty hose so I can see your panties.” He ordered.

My breath was coming so quick and shallow bursts. I was starting to feel light headed and my eyes started to moisten as I wrestled between what I knew a good girl should not do and what Eddy was making me do here in the school parking lot. It didn’t even register that I was now being driven to do this not because he was physically forcing me, but because my wanting to do it was overriding my training not to. Eddy was becoming the catalyst to my change, and he knew it.

I quickly moved my legs back together, pulled my skirt all the way to my waist well above the tops of my pantyhose, took hold of the sheer waistband and then pushed them all the way to my shoes. I had to slip my shoes off to completely remove them from my feet, then I balled up the material and handed the hose to Eddy before I resumed my position with legs spread wide again.

“There,” I said, somewhat triumphantly. “Is this what you wanted to see, SIR?”

He was cool and unperturbed as he remained looking at me alternating his focus between my eyes and my crotch while he appeared content to ignore my question. After a lengthy period focused on my crotch, he looked directly into my eyes and finally answered, “Were getting there.” His visual attention had made me squirm and I felt the slipperiness I had noticed between my legs increase so that my panty crotch was getting wet with the secretion.

Even though the panties were white cotton, Eddy could tell they were starting to become translucent with the wetness.

“You really like this, don’t you?” He asked.

“I’m just showing you that I can do what you want.” I declared.

“Is that right? I didn’t take off your pantyhose, you did and I don’t think your pussy would be getting so hot and wet if you weren’t getting off on this big time.” He said in a cocky tone.

“I don’t think you know what you’re talking about.” I protested.

“Sit where you are and don’t move.” He said “I’ll show you what I’m talking about.”

He place his right hand on my left leg above the knee with his thumb down between my legs and then started to move it slowly up toward my pussy. I could feel the smoldering wetness beneath the cotton panel of my panties, but didn’t know what he was going to feel and find when he reached it. When his hand got to the top of my leg, he rubbed the side of his thumb along the leg band of my panties. I was paralyzed with lust and could do nothing but watch the movement of his thumb, both afraid it would slip beneath my panty and desperately demanding it to; finally he slipped it inside the opening and started to track through the soft pussy hair and traced my fat swollen labia.

He reached the moist inner surface of my fat lips and I could take no more, I grabbed his wrist and pulled it roughly forward so that his thumb slid deeply into me. Almost immediately I felt the explosion of my first orgasm, sat up sharply shaking and yelled “WHHHAAAT ARE YOU DOOOOOOOOIIIIiiinnng, as I pushed his hand and thumb abruptly from me. My whole body had shaken in spasms around his wiggling thumb on the hand I held when his thumb was buried in my cunt and I clasped one of my own over the mound as it continued to pulse and quiver. I bit my lip so fiercely it started to bleed before I was able to loosen the fierceness of my grip.

I scrambled back into my clothing and between gulping breaths in post orgasmic tenderness said. “What the HELL did you do to me Eddy?” I’m sure I had experienced probably my first orgasm, but at that time and with the limited understanding the only thing I knew for sure was that the physical or sexual sensations that had rushed through my body were far more electric than anything I had ever experience in my life to that point, and I was totally given to the need to know what had caused them other than the deliciously wicked stimulation from Eddy’s wiggling thumb.

Eddy was amused and a little flustered. “Hey Cynthia, chill out.” I didn’t do anything bad, it’s no big deal.” He said as he watched me almost frantically putting my pantyhose back on, and then told me that maybe I was a little too provincial for him after all.

The thought kind of hung in the air as he drove me home and I wondered if I had overreacted. After he dropped me off and I had time to think without interruption I worried that I may have blown things by panicking and that maybe Eddy would loose interest in preference of girls who were a little less provincial and allot more fun.

After dinner I stayed in my bedroom by myself all evening, partly because I was sick with worry over upsetting Eddy, and partly because I was more curious about the powerful feelings I had felt in the fleeting contact with Eddy’s thumb and fingers. As I lay on top of my bed, I brought my feet toward my bottom and raised my knees. I was still wearing my skirt and as I watched carefully, I moved my knees right and left, toward my head and away from it, wiggled a bit and generally tried to see if my skirt would fall by gravity to reveal more of my legs. I felt naughty and imagined Eddy sitting at the foot of my bed watching what I was doing.

I desperately wanted him to pull my skirt down so he could see me as well as he had in the car, but since he was imaginary, his part could only be played in my sexual role play by the law of gravity. When I became frustrated with the uncooperative sexy nature of my skirt, I became more aggressive by spreading my legs as widely apart as I could to force my skirt to fall all the way to the bed and my tummy. With my legs spread widely like this before my imaginary lover, a warm rippling sensation started to awaken all of my erogenous zones, and my crotch especially felt hot and wet.

My eyes strained, looking toward the foot of my bed, for any thing I could focus on to remind me of my boyfriend’s lusty gaze as I tried to imagine what he had seen. I noticed the adjustable mirror on the dresser and jumped up with an idea. I rushed to the dresser and turned it to face the foot of the bed, and then I angled the mirror down so it would provide a reflection of me while lying on the bed.

I rushed back to the bed and opened the covers so I could hide quickly in case of emergency and then rewound the mental images until I got to the scene just before my interruption.

Now I could plainly see what Eddy had seen and the blood pumped in my temples as I became mesmerized by a wanton image of me. The nipples of my 34 B tits became erect and my pussy became steamy. I was thrilled by the forbidden nastiness in my mind as I grasped the waistband of my pantyhose and pushed them slowly off my rounded but, and all the way down my legs leaving them gathered around my feet.

Now very slowly, so I could make a permanent memory of everything I watched through Eddy’s imaginary eyes, I spread my legs wide, wide, wider still, all the way until my outer thighs rested on the cover of the bed. Damn I thought, what a sexy vision for Eddy.