Pammy Submits Ch 03

So, we cleaned up, dressed, and I took Pammy with me shopping. I live near nothing so it took a while. It took a while getting to a couple of towns and a stop or two at shady shops along a major highway south of Dallas. Some of the things I bought I bought Pammy thought were for her but they were going to be for my pleasure. Some of the things were mine and I made Pammy stay in the car when I bought them. These were for another day.

The next to last stop was to a liquor store. I bought stuff I liked. I bought stuff Pammy liked. The last stop was for Tex-Mex – lots of it – I did not feel like cooking tonight.

I let Pammy chatter during the meal. I let her chatter about everything she wanted to that did not include me or our history together. Poor girl went on like a pressure valve letting out steam. Some of her life was even happy. She seemed quietly content on the rather long drive home.

I dropped the packages on the floor, her stuff in one stack and my special stuff in another. When I turned from that, there Pammy stood, in the middle of the floor.

'What?'

'I'm waiting,' she answered.

'Waiting for what?'

'I'm waiting for you to tell me what you want to do with me,' she said.

Hmm, that might be a good sign.

'Need to pee?'

Pammy nodded.

'Go get that done then come back here,' I said taking the time to do the same in the back toilette.

I sat on the couch when she returned. Quite pointedly, Pammy walked to the center of the room and turned to face me. She waited. I couldn't help smiling. Pammy saw that I was pleased and smiled at her action. Damn it.

'Do you want to try on your new clothes?'

'God, yes.'

'Do it.'

Pammy rummaged through the sacks pulling out the flouncy white, gauzy, button up shirt with long sleeves and a high collar and a black business suit. She picked off the tags.

'No bra, Pammy,'

'Yes sir.'

She pulled the tank top over her head creating poetic magic as her tits flopped out from underneath the shirt then went taut as her arms pulled the shirt over her head. More poetry in motion as she slipped into the translucent white shirt. Now, Pammy's areolas and nipples were pale, only a slight shade darker than her fair skin, but they managed to cast pretty, oval shadows against the material. She would glance at me as she put it on watching me watch her. Cheeks reddened a bit as she buttoned up.

She wiggled out of her own skirt and wiggled into the black, short, straight cut business skirt. She tucked in the shirt and zippered the skirt before turning the zipper to the back. Next was the very straight-laced matching jacket with a bit of padding in the shoulders. She straightened the jacket and tugged at the shirt beneath until some of the cuffs peeked out.

'Can I wear the jewelry,' she asked shyly.

I nodded.

'Make up?'

'Just a bit, okay,' I answered. I was never a fan of too much war paint.

Pammy stooped to grab her purse (my mistake but I did not know it yet) and paced tight-assed back to the bathroom mirror.

She padded back in barefooted for we did not buy heels. The bracelet that caught her eye, variously colored gem stones on a silver chain, showed on her wrist. The modest glittering earrings dangled from her pierced ears. She stood a moment. Patted her hips impatiently and did a couple of model turns cocking her knee and hip, halting turned away from me to swish those hips again while looking over her shoulder at me.

'Like it?' she asked quietly as if fearing my answer.

I nodded. 'How about you? 'Like it?'

'God yes, Dirk. It's – it's, no one ever did something like this for me. You can use me any way you want. Any way you want.'

'I will,' I said. I reached in a sack I had put on the couch. I pulled out a package of shiny, shear, nude-woven, pantyhose. 'Drop your drawers and slide into these.'

Pammy wiggled her white panties off her hips, let them drop to her ankles, and stepped out of them. She stepped over to the chair to sit and unpack the pantyhose. Using thumbs and fingers she pulled up one of the nylon legs onto her fists until she was at the toe, raised her foot, slid the toe over her toes and drew that up her leg until it was at her knees. The process was repeated with the other leg. Pammy stood and drew them up both thighs one at a time pulling the nylons into the right place. Then, with one of those woman's magic tricks, managed to draw the hose over her hips with hardly a peek of bush from under her skirt. How do they do that?

I stood. 'Want to get drunk?'

'Sure. Always.'

'Come and sit on the couch. I'll get the drinks.'

I came back with a tray and ice, sat them on the coffee table, and moved the chair from next to the couch to before the table opposite Pammy.

'You just want to look at me. You just want to look at my legs,' she said but there was mischief in her eyes.

'I do.'

'Why?'

'Why not? I enjoy it.'

'I'm not very pretty.'

'Pammy, you are pure eye candy,' I said and that was not a complete lie. She was handsome more than pretty sure but long legs and great skin... Come on.

She was silent with that but shyly crossed her legs. I love what crossed legs do to the shape of a woman's thighs, to how crossed legs give prominence to her knees, how those knees press against tan nylons – a lighter shade than the rest of the legs. I loved the shadow of the double weave gives the impression of hose tops as the pantyhose peek from beneath her skirt. I poured her a drink.

'What's with women and their flavored liquor?' I said as I added charged water to her sloe gin and stuck a lime wedge on the low-ball glass. I handed it to her.

'It's good,' she said shrugging.

I poured my Irish whisky over ice.

'Do you remember that weekend we spent out on High Island?' she said and giggled.

'Damn! I do. We were so young,' We'd camped out on the beach with some petite little slut and her flashy spoiled boyfriend and tried to act so grown up. 'Remember trying to have what we called an orgy in the back of that car?'

She laughed out a good belly laugh while I was remembering Pammy and I naked under one blanket and the other couple under theirs both couples trying to fuck and calling it an orgy. Still, that little 'blonde' with her black pubes and cute little ass that kept getting uncovered so close to my nose looked pretty good.

'What was that girl's name?'

'It was Amber and Mike. I think she liked you. She always said I'd picked a prize.' Pammy said taking a big swig.

I laughed then. That bitch, all fire and attitude, was way too high maintenance for me.

'Whatever happened to her?'

'She went off to New Orleans with some man. The last I heard he pimped her out as an escort. A whore is what she was. A whore is what she always was.'

'I suspect your right.' I said with visions of nailing that bitch in mind. 'We fucked each other silly that weekend.'

'I remember smoking a lot of pot and getting sand up where I didn't like it to be.'

'Oh, but I had a lot of fun pulling your bikini down in the surf and cleaning out all that sand.'

Pammy flushed. 'People were looking.'

'I liked feeling you off in the tent at night. Your pussy tasted good, all salty,' I grinned.

'If I remember, you licked me clean there too. Drove me crazy.'

'You should have learned to let go and cum with a man licking you.'

'Well, I know that now,' Pammy said. She slouched down a bit and let her leg slide down so that her ankles crossed showing an expanse of thigh. I noticed her skirt had ridden up a bit. She saw me notice and gave the skirt a tug.

'Do you remember the first time we did it?'

She took a sip. 'I remember. I lied when I told you it was my first time.'

I had thrown a party for my druggy friends. That included Pammy. We trashed the apartment pretty good and drank ourselves silly. Everyone else went home. Pammy stayed.

'I knew you were lying.'

'How did you know?'

'It didn't hurt when I stuck myself in you. You didn't bleed. I remember licking you up pretty good that night. You wouldn't cum that night either...'

'God, you just wouldn't stop. I couldn't stand it,' she said. We both laughed at the memory. She began to rock her legs back and forth. 'I wasn't a virgin but it was probably only my third time. I was so sore the next morning.'

'We were both pretty young. We weren't very good at it.'

'You got better,' she said. She took another drink. Was she beginning to slur a bit.

'So did you.' And, she did. We learned together that summer.

Pammy put her feet on the coffee table but kept her knees together. She looked at me over her knees seeing me look at her legs.

'You always liked my legs. You like girls' legs.'

'I do.'

'You want to see my pussy though, don't you?'

I could only nod. Men are dogs.

Pammy jerked her knees apart quickly then jammed them back together. I got only a quick glimpse of how the pantyhose press her bush flat and form-fitted her pronounced mound. Pammy giggled. She started to rock her legs back and forth, as she watched the effect on my face as I looked at how that motion exposed the back of her thighs and showed a bit of ass.

'I bet you want a better look, yes?'

'Always.'

'Will you pour me another drink?' She said holding out the glass. I complied.

She took another drink and tried to appear as if considering whether or not to show me.

Finally, she scooted down closer to the edge of the couch and parted her knees but then she brought her other hand down to hide her pussy. She raised her fingers showing herself then quickly hid herself again.

'Again,' she offered. She pulled her hand away then it flopped back in place. She showed her pussy again and hid it again. 'If you come over here you can feel it, if you want. You can play with my legs. You always liked to play with my legs.'

I shrugged but I joined her on the couch. Pammy snuggled up against me, pulled her foot up to tuck it under her other leg and dropped that leg over against my thigh. I reached to stroke her knee and then slid it up to stroke her thigh. God, I love thighs. Nothing. Nothing feels better than a woman's leg in nylons.

'Feel's nice,' she said.

'Tell me about the guy that beat you up?'

'Nothing much to tell,' she obviously lied. She took another swig. 'He'd come home angry and take it out on me. You know, when we first met he asked me if I liked rough sex. Rough can be nice sometimes. Like a fool I told him I could take anything he could dish out.'

She laughed a laugh that had no joy in it. She took another drink.

'What was rough sex for him?'

'Well, it wasn't making love. He screwed me. He fucked me like he was angry with me. Mean fucking. He liked to slap my breasts. He liked to poke stuff in me. Dildos, carrots, cucumbers. He liked carrots the best. I liked the dildos, even the cucumbers. He could make me orgasm with those. He could,' she almost looked wistful at some of those memories. She drank and she giggled again. 'He liked to play this game. Pat search he called it. He frisked me up then he'd pull down my panties and stick pencils in my butt and my pussy. Probing for drugs he called it.'

'Christ on his cross,' I said shaking my head. However, I had a few nice visions.

'I could... I could take... take whatever he dished out 'til he socked me in my face...' she slurred.

I looked more closely at her heavily lidded eyes, her slack mouth.

'Damn, woman, what did you take?'

'Ludes. I had some... When I went to – to – make up... put on...'

'Damn, Pammy, who told you you could do that. How many?'

'Not too many. 'Like 'em. Don't be mad. Don't hit me.'

'No one's gonna hit you,' I said. So, instead of slapping her face I grabbed her jaw and shook her roughly. 'And no one told you to take any ludes, damn it.'

'I'm gonna pass out soon. Don't be mad. You can do me while I'm asleep. You can. Somebody gave me a roofie once. I think he did me in my butt. I was all oily and sore down there later. 'Next day. 'Sore for a week. 'Sore...'

Pammy's eyes rolled back. I shook her again.

'Not too many, Dirk. I just sleep some. You can do me while I sleep if you want. You can. It's alright... Alright, really...' Her eyes rolled back in her head. She almost let go of her drink as her arm dropped to rest the glass on her thigh. I grabbed it and sat it on the table.

'I just might, Pammy.' And, I was just about pissed enough to do it, too.