What to Do with Lynnette?

This is a fictionalized account of a true story with a real ending that you’ll have to wait until part 2 for. It is much shorter overall than the last ‘series’ of stories that that covered 215 MS Word pages; I hope it’s not too short for those who like character development and short enough for those who don’t like to beat around the bush. Like I said, the story itself is true, although I have taken literary license in fictionalizing the specific details and names.

Thanks to Doktor Zhivago for the quick look for minor editing.

I was almost frozen with fear and fighting against arousal as my feet and lower body were insecurely planted barely into the informal dining area at the bottom of the stairs while I was leaning around the corner to make eye contact with my husband. Jerry was in the hallway at the top of the short flight of stairs and just preparing to enter the master bedroom. He needed to take a quick shower to get the handy man dirt that clung to his moist skin so we could leave for my company’s summer picnic with a friend and work associate of mine.

The ‘friend and associate,’ Brian Reynolds was farther into the dining area and behind me; he was kneeling and had just finished pulling my panties down and off my weak and trembling thighs. I couldn’t avoid closing my eyes tightly against the visual contact I had been fighting to maintain with Jerry and shuddered as he slid two, then three long fingers into my rapidly lubricating sex.

As soon as he watched Jerry leave the room he had slipped both hands under my conservatively short tennis skirt to knead and caress the soft full cheeks of my ass and press the crotch of my panties deep into my moist crease. I tried in vain to slap his hands away and felt betrayed by my own sexual urgency that was quickly taking over.

I opened my eyes and fought to regain my senses so I could see what had happened to Jerry, and saw him staring back at me, almost as paralyzed as I was. . All of a sudden his eyes became steeled, they had been fixed on an image beyond me and now they narrowed with intense determination. His action was so quick and decisive I was unprepared to react equally, I could only claw at Brian’s hands to push him away, but he was much stronger than I and would not be distracted.

Jerry almost jumped all the way down the flight of stairs and wheeled to face Brian so quickly, my molester wasn’t even aware of his presence before Jerry grabbed his full head of blond hair roughly with his right hand and brought his left knee powerfully into Brian’s upper chest and shoulder. Brian’s body was thrown hard in deflection off the heavy dining table and heels over-head backward as he rolled into a stunned heap across the room.

Jerry was on him even before he rolled to a stop and picked him up like a large spiritless rubber dummy. He literally carried Brian back through the room and into the entry like a weightless swimmer and threw him into the closed entry door so hard the wood and glass exploded from the force and disassembled from the weight of Brian’s body that had finally become heavy, then his body continued on into the yard and I was truly afraid that Jerry was going to kill him.

Instead of following the limp body into the yard however, he turned on me, and now I feared for my own life. I had never seen Jerry like this, and could never have imagined the intensity, maybe even the violent capacity of the man I had spent almost every day with for the previous six years. Instinctively I brought my arm up in defense against the blow I expected but never received. Instead, those intense eyes drilled into my soul as he said in a controlled steady voice. “You’ll need to pack a bag Lynette. I’ll call the Fairfield Inn and reserve a room for you. Then he turned, picked up his truck keys and disappeared into the garage.

That was about 4:30, and I didn’t even bother to see how Brian was or if he was still even in the yard. We were going to pick up Brian’s wife Darlene at their home so we could get to the picnic site by 5:00, 40 miles away, and I didn’t know if she was home at the time so she could look after her husband, or if he actually needed an ambulance. I’m afraid my concerns at the time were far more self-centered as I tried in vain to even begin to deal with my own desperate situation. My husband was gone, right then I wasn’t sure I even knew who he was, the only thing I was sure of, was that if I was still there when he returned, I may not have been able to afford finding out whom he had become.

The more I tried to deal with the mechanics of packing some clothes for an uncertain stay in a local hotel, away from my home, the more I focused on the little almost trivial and taken for granted details of my life that made me frightened for my future. I had been a working wife, and had been very successful by all standards. I had climbed up through the ranks of sales and marketing to a position with a successful high tech company as an executive and designated corporate spokesperson. Unfortunately my greatest ambition had eluded me since after year six; I was still not a working mother.

We had tried desperately for the previous three yeas to have a child and had recently become serious about the process of adoption. Nothing was found wrong with Jerry, and after to all the tests conducted on me nothing could be found in my condition that would account for our failure, but the fact remained, those eggs of mine refused to play well with Jerry’s sperm. We had tried so hard, for so long that, in spite of the discouragement I was sure we would both feel that having our parenthood battle end with divorce or separation seemed to be an unacceptable epitaph to our relationship and an intolerable consequence of foolishness.

Other than the failure to satisfy my deep longing to experience what I considered to be the ultimate in womanhood, most people would probably be envious of my success resume. I graduated from college in communication and after a couple of inconsequential positions in which I archived a measure of success without challenge; I secured an entry level position with the marketing division of a successful up and coming high-tech leader. I honestly suppose my appearance accounted for my rise to fame more than my mind, but I believe I was able to deliver in performance on the opportunities that came through my looks and figure.

I was always very competitive and flourished during my freshman year in college as a JV cheerleader and as an outgoing student who was always in the middle of the social ‘in scene’. This was in spite of the fact that I was not sexually promiscuous; in fact, I was still a technical virgin when Jerry and I were married. I qualify the technicality of that by confessing that I was adventurous, maybe even outlandish without going ‘all-the-way’.

One thing about me, tied into my competitiveness, is that I found it very hard to back down on a dare. It started with my roommates in one of the girl’s dorms where we all challenged and dared each other to flash the guys who played football on the spacious lawn outside our building. I got so excited by doing it that I almost came the first time I met eye contact with one of the guys while I was standing buck naked and visible from my head to upper thighs in front of my window.

It became so exciting that I routinely undressed and paraded around my third floor room in the nude. The next year I made sure I got a room on the second floor so I would be more easily seen. When the dorm parents warned us that some of the girls needed to be more careful about their blinds I spent endless amounts of energy trying to find ways to act or behave so that my exposure looked accidental.

When I had first started my little games as a freshman, I managed twice to forget the heavy bloomers that were part of the cheerleader outfits and had to lead cheers in my sheer, almost transparent nylon panties. Just knowing what I was wearing and showing was so stimulating that I was soaking wet. When one of the male cheerleaders did a lift with me and held me above him with his hand cupping my hot pussy, I know I came all over his hand. If he had held me there any longer, my juices would have been flowing and showing down his arm. He looked at me with a naughty smile and winked to acknowledge that he knew what a hot tease I was. He asked me out, but I was too afraid to accept because of what I thought he may try.

I flashed my panties and even my bare pussy to professors as I sat in their classrooms and always allowed guys sitting across from me plenty of views up my skirt between spread thighs. It was during those first two years at college that I learned to masturbate, and did it often. Mostly I did it by myself in front of my open window, but occasionally with roommates in mutual masturbation sessions. On only two occasions, did someone else get me off, or visa-versa?

One time with a roommate who came in unexpectedly and caught me lying naked with my pussy facing the window and my legs spread as wide as possible hoping someone could see me plunging my fingers rapidly in my hot eager sex. I was so overcome with lust already, that when her discovery of me was added to the excitement, a mind-blowing orgasm took over and kept me bucking wildly while she watched.

Lori was so turned on watching me, that she ended up stripping down as well and straddled my head facing my feet as she moved her mouth between my legs and thoroughly devoured my pussy with her mouth. I could feel her tongue on me in such detail it was as though I was watching what she was doing in a virtual image and I was sure I could replicate those sensations for her in her own sexy swamp. We fingered and chewed each other to delirious cum after delirious cum all evening.

I’m sure it was such a momentous night that we would have become sexually co-dependant partners, if she hadn’t mysteriously withdrawn from school two days later and returned home. The second and only other person-to-person encounter before Jerry and I started seeing each other was when I ran into Stewart Warren, the cheerleader who lifted me to orgasm during the previous year.

I thought we had both forgotten about the incident and accepted when he asked me to go with him for a hamburger and movie. Things were going fine while we were eating; we had been laughing as we reminisced about the fun, humorous, and unexpected things that happened during games and practices and then he brought up my adventures with panties. I blushed, but felt a tingle between my thighs as I immediately remembered all of the most outstanding orgasms I had had during the previous years.

When he asked me if I still wore the kind of panties that were see-thru or did I wear the tiny G-string style. I blushed and couldn’t answer. “I’ll bet you have to wear panties with an absorbent crotch.” He said. “I felt between your legs once and I was afraid my arm was going to shine under the bright lights from the fluids you left.” My mouth shot open in a shocked expression, and Stew just smiled with a wicked expression.

While I sat there blushing and hot, he just looked at me, hoping to catch something in my expression that revealed the effect he was trying to have on me. “Let me see them now, I’ll bet five dollars they are soaking wet.” He said, continuing to stare through me. As he spoke, and watched, he held out his hand as though waiting for me to hand him something immediately.

I looked at his opened, waiting hand and when its meaning registered, I said in a shocked and strangled voice. “What? You mean right now, right here?”

Stewart just stared, and smiled, and then said three magic words in a challenging tone. “I dare you!”

I had blushed many times in my life, but I had never felt the power of blush, embarrassment, and arousal as much as I did at that time. The thought of being discrete by going into the women’s restroom never crossed my mind. If the dare had been to stand on the tabletop and do it with a table dance, I don’t know if would have refused. I thought how fortunate it was at least that I was wearing a skirt at the time.

My expression was totally serious, and I was totally turned on as I wiggled down into my seat and slowly pulled my skirt upward. When the hem was about three inches below my pussy, I snaked my fingers up along the sides of my legs until I could hook them into the leg openings of my panties at both hips, then I began pulling them down. I had to lean back against the seat and lift myself so the material could slip between the seat and my ass. When they had safely passed the holding point, I didn’t try to disguise my actions at all. I hoped everyone in the restaurant could see the progress of my revealing exposure.

When they were at my feet, and I slipped them over my shoes, I kept my knees spread about 20 inches and used the already damp crotch to mop up the sodden mess that was running out of my steamy hole. I left my skirt pulled up like that and closed my knees only to about 12 inches while I brought the baby blue sheer panties up and laid them openly in Stewart’s hand. It excited me to see them sitting there openly, so anyone else could see. I hadn’t seen anyone I recognized there, but it wouldn’t have mattered, I wanted anyone who was interested to know how daring and sexy I was willing to be.

Stew handled the blue nylon with both hands opening the panties up without making any effort to be discrete. He sensuously rubbed the crotch between his fingers and thumbs and pulled them up to his nose to draw in my full heady aroma, and then he licked at the wet crotch with his pink tongue. I moved my right hand down between my legs and slipped a practiced finger into the depths to pick up the slippery lubrication to make my action against my clit feel better. I closed my eyes and clenched the muscles in my face to show the delicious feelings that were racing through me in the intense climax that seemed to start, build and then carry on and on.

“Beautiful.” Stewart said. “God you’re exciting. Let’s go.”

He took my hand and led me from the table on wobbly legs. When I looked back, there was the pile of wet baby blue nylon, fluffed out like a table decoration centerpiece. I flushed with heat and satisfaction feeling wicked, daring and thoroughly nasty, all together at the same time. As we approached the car, he slowed a little and pulled me to him warmly with an arm around my shoulder. He gently turned me toward him and moved his lips to mine, tenderly at first and then with a little more passion while he caressed my back and then moved down to the upper swells of my soft ass.

While holding me there and kissing I noticed his hands in a more purposeful examination of my clothing. His attention centered on the zipper of my skirt and my pulse quickened as I felt him slide it slowly down. The cool evening air on my bare skin was thrilling, but his warm fingers against the soft skin at the top of my ass crack were mind blowing.

His mouth with sensuous kisses brushed along the side of my face below my ear lobe and onto the side of my neck as his hands started to ease my skirt from my hips. We were in a restaurant parking lot and I wasn’t sure where we were in relation to the pickup truck we parked when we arrived., but that didn’t seem to matter at least to Stewart since he had already started to strip me where we stood.

My body shook and shivered, and not just from the cool air I felt as the skirt fell to the ground around my feet. Shit! If I hadn’t already become almost addicted to exhibitionism and masturbation in the safety of my own dorm room, I would have screamed and bolted from the site immediately. I was too intoxicated by the original dare and my own sexual excitement to do anything but stand in breathless anticipation of what was going to happen.

Stew held me close as he as he continued to nuzzle his face into my neck and shoulder while he reached his strong hands around me and caressed the bare quivering cheeks of my ass. He slipped his hands under the tail of my silk blouse and tickled the flesh of my lower back with his fingertips. On upward his fingers danced until he came to and traced the line of my lacy bra strap. He stopped at the clasp and took a secure grip so he could unhook the connecting parts, he was going to continue.

He caressed my whole naked back to confirm to me how close I was to nudity and that he was exercising control over my exposure. He teased the sides of my breasts without moving to fondle them and pinch my anxious nipples, and then he pulled his hands out and brought them to the front, between us and started to unfasten the eight buttons that held it secure. When the buttons were all unfastened, he pulled the two sides apart and stood slightly back to look at my bare flesh, covered only partially by my opened blouse and loosened bra.

Goose bumps covered my hot flesh that was being cooled by the night air and I shivered again as he slid the material back, off my shoulders and let it flutter to the ground. He delicately lifted the shoulder straps of my blue lace bra and drew them off my shoulders as well, and let the flimsy garment fall to the ground with my other clothes. I couldn’t believe I was standing there, completely naked except for the shoes I was wearing, in a dimly lit restaurant parking lot. The look on Stewart’s face made me drip with lust and his eyes literally glowed with admiration and interest.

He took my left hand delicately in his and slowly walked me to the passenger side of the pickup truck. As I climbed to the seat, he touched me with familiarity for the first time, running his fingers up the inside of my thigh to the soaked lips of my arousal. I couldn’t move as he traced the open crease with the tip of his finger and then slid it sensuously inside. My breath caught as I concentrated on his penetration; deeper and deeper he slid his finger into me until he could go no further.

I was half-way into the truck and quickly rising to climax; as I arched my back in need for the release, then he pulled the teasing digit out, leaving me desperate and on the edge. He patted me on the rump, to move me up and into the seat and disappeared. In only a few seconds the driver’s door opened and the interior was bathed in light from the dome fixture. Apparently the switch on the passenger door didn’t work. I was doubly self-conscious of my nudity as I sat there beside him completely illuminated, since he was still fully dressed.

When the engine thundered to life, the interior of the truck cab was plunged into protective darkness and he backed pulled out of his spot and we slowly left the lot. There was a brief instant of concern as I considered my clothes left in a pile on the asphalt, but it was more for the economic impact at having to replace them than the thrilling danger of not having them available to re-dress in, in the event of an emergency or discovery.

He had to adjust the position of his penis in his slacks due to a certain state of arousal, and then quickly compelled me to spread my thighs so he could look at the wet lips of my pussy swollen with arousal. His gaze kept shifting between my exposed labia and the road as he tried to avoid crashing, and as his bulge grew, I opened the lips with my own fingers and started to masturbate toward the climax I desperately needed.

Needing to be freed from restriction Stewart opened the zip and clasp on his trousers so he could haul his erect prick out into the open. I had seen pictures of flaccid penises in books and magazines, but in spite of my experience in fantasy and masturbation, I had never seen one up close, in the open and live before. I was fascinated with the size and menacing appearance of his hard shaft. It looked almost angry in its rigidity and he pulled my left hand to it so I could feel its heat and energy.