For "Dana".
Based on a true story.
________
She avoided her husband's questioning eyes and pretended to be absorbed in the sermon, but it was difficult to follow along. The preacher's passionate ranting just could not command the same amount of attention from her as the butt plug she had jammed up her ass.
Try as she might, she couldn't stop shifting in her seat. With every little movement, every time she crossed or uncrossed her legs, slouched forward, leaned back, and just generally rubbed her ass all over the chair, she was hyper aware of the plug's hard stem...
Pulling... stretching... this way and that...
As her sensitive little hole puckered - and grabbed it tight.
Shift, pull...
squeeze
.
Slouch, push...
squeeze
.
Slide, stretch...
squeeze
.
She couldn't deal, at the moment, with her husband's concerned glance, as he soothingly stroked her bare knee. She had bigger problems.
The continual play in her asshole had her nerves buzzing, which wouldn't have been such a big deal if only she had been allowed to wear a bra. Nipples standing at attention, she told herself she wasn't nearly as exposed as she felt. But still, the poor young man seated to her other side, barely older than her own son, must have noticed her condition. Averting his eyes and mirroring her uncomfortable shifting, he pressed the cover of his hard-back bible into his lap, trying desperately to discretely maneuver his hardening cock into a more tenable position.
Dana, a cute, waifish little blonde whose presence had raised many a cock, had never been sure if she ought to be excited or indignant about the hard-ons she inspired. And now, mortifying embarrassment before this kid was tempered with smugness at the effect she was having, which itself had to compete with pity and a bit of guilt at having put him in such a bad way.
But even the poor boy's arousal wasn't her biggest concern at the moment. It was her own. A little knot of anxiety began twisting in her stomach when she considered the fact that she hadn't been allowed to wear panties either. It made her wonder which would be worse for her to soak through, the seat of her little skirt, or the cushion of her chair.
With a nearly panicked anxiety, an indignant inner voice vented, "I can
NOT
believe I'm making this decision", as she slid her ass forward, flaring her skirt out behind her. Pussy now rubbing directly on the rough weave of the chair, she reached down and rearranged her skirt. Gripping onto the sides of the chair to slide back upright, she gritted tensely, aware of every little detail in the texture of the seat cushion, as that damn pontificating preacher prattled on, and unceasingly on.
When the service finally drew to a close, her young admirer executed a mercifully swift exodus. And she managed to slip a hymnal over the wet spot on her chair, casually edging away. Nerves abuzz, flushed with self consciousness, she tried to drag hubby through the sea of bodies. But oblivious to her condition, he was just too much of a social creature to cooperate with a hasty retreat.
Forced to give up on escape, she demurely tagged along, inch by excruciating inch, trying to make polite conversation as she went. And she tried to act as natural as she could, her face burning with secret shame, every time some bubbly girlfriend wrapped her in a hug, rubbing up against her thinly veiled nipples. "How the hell did I get into this?", whined that tortured voice in her head, as the knot in her stomach tightened, her asshole clenched, and her pussy drooled.
________
It's not as if she was some sort of straight laced priss. She'd always loved to party, and had done some downright wild things when she was younger. But she'd always been happiest following someone else's lead, and for the second twenty years of her life that had been her husband. They were married pretty young and had partied together, but that seemed like a lifetime ago.
Life was still good, if not as exciting as it had once been. They spent a lot less time frequenting beach bars, and a lot more time raising two kids in the high end suburbs and being involved in school and church social circles. On balance, she really couldn't complain.
But with the kids reaching teen-age, her life was no longer wrapped up in babies and children, putting her identity in a bit of transition. And having had youngsters in the house as she'd come into her sexual prime, her libido had been simmering and suppressed for years now. So lately she'd begun fantasizing. ...about women, as it happened.
Eventually, she began browsing the online personals, never thinking she would actually answer one, until one day she ran across this:
Does Submission to a Younger Woman Make You Wet? - w4w - 22 (Newport Coast)
Does the thought of submitting yourself to a younger woman turn you on?
Does that growing sense of anxiety at putting yourself in the hands of a free spirit who will almost certainly not play responsibly with your trust and sense of modesty make you start to tingle and cream?
If the need to submit overcomes the panic that's about to make you pee yourself, you should get in touch with me.
I'm spoiled and entitled. I'll ask more than is fair. You'd be crazy to get involved with me.
Now put "Please" in the title of your e-mail, and send me a picture of yourself.
There was just something about that ad. It had a picture of a statuesque young blonde, standing proudly atop a pickup truck, a taut, lean body in a bikini and cut-off half top, filled out with a pair of gravity defying young tits.
But it wasn't the body. It was the attitude. Here was a girl who liked to take charge, with enough confidence for the both of them. Suddenly there was a way for her to get with a real beauty without having to re-cast herself as the aggressor. This beautiful young girl
wanted
a woman that was both older and submissive. And yeah, the very idea of giving control to the arrogant little bitch was making her a kinda warm and tingly.
from
: Dana
to
: PersonalAd_jwznc-2462734471
subject
: Does Submission to a Younger Woman Make You Wet?
YES!!!! Reading your post made me want you to fulfill my fantasy of being with a woman
Please respond
________
from
: Erin