Wendy And Andrew

This story is a complete fantasy and no association with real life whatsoever. No one is under the age of 20 and there is no physical hurt or pain.

*****

Chapter 1 - Introduction

My name is Wendy Banks and I am 34 years of age and have been married for over 11 years to my husband Andrew Banks. We have always been reasonably happy, but over the last 3 years our marriage has altered dramatically. I think it started with some playful girly dressing up and then slowly graduated to some equally playful disciplinary corporal punishment involving our elderly neighbours. I am however moving ahead of myself and should really start at the beginning.

When I was in my very late teens it was clear that Andrew and I were made for each other. Our parents were delighted. Andrew had always been such a polite boy and was exceptionally good looking with very fine delicate facial features and his skin was perfect, almost porcelain. My friends were insanely jealous although they were so happy for me. His manner were so gentle and he was so shy my mother loved him to bits and was always telling me how attractive he was. My Auntie Rita used to go overboard with the praise and tell my mother "He is not just attractive Ellen, he is positively pretty. I feel I want to wrap him up in lovely gift paper and take him home with me".

We all used to laugh at her expressions but my mother used to tell me afterwards "Your Aunty Rita is quite right Wendy. Andrew is so lovely and nice you really will have to take special care of him." I nodded, although I wasn't sure what she meant by 'special care'.

The first time I visited Andrew's home I was about 18 and found his family so loving and welcoming. His mother was pleasantly plump and immediately kissed me on both cheeks and made me feel at home. His sister Michelle was about a year older than Andrew and I was surprised, as I remembered her from school. Due to our age difference we were not close friends but she was always very nice to me and was very popular. She was full of fun.

His father Herbert was a very quiet introvert man. He didn't have a very strong personality. Quite nice but with very little to say. I smiled as the women seemed to be giving all the instructions.

During Andrew and my courtship, Michelle and I developed a strong friendship and we did start to go out together to concerts on a few occasions. We talked a lot and found out we had both been in the Girl Guides. I had always enjoyed the very close companionship of the Girl Guides and wished I had never left.

She was fascinated that I told her this and explained that she had felt exactly the same and in fact she was now a Senior Guide in the local organisation. She told me a little about her duties and the close companionship with the girls.

One evening Michelle told me that she and her mother were more than pleased that Andrew and I intended to get married and said that Andrew was a very special person and needed a woman like me who would 'take special care' of him.

It really was strange that she should use the very same expression that my mother and Aunty Rita had used. It was very clear that both Michelle and her mother wanted the very best for Andrew and it was nice to feel that they thought I was ideal.

One evening I was over their house and Michelle wanted to show me a dress she had bought that day. As I followed her into her bedroom I was impressed how nice and neat everything was with lovely windows and curtains and pretty wallpaper. Then I gasped as I saw a drawing pinned up on the wall near her bedside.

It showed a young man with his trousers down and it was clear he was wearing girl's panties. They were pretty mauve panties but what was much more shocking was that there was a young woman sitting at his side and she had his penis poking out of his panties and she was masturbating him.

I muttered "God, Michelle, that looks a bit much."

She laughed "Its only a bit of fun and it is a good drawing isn't it Wendy?"

I knew that both she and Andrew were good at drawing and he intended to be an architect. I nodded. It was good but I did ask "But what if your mother sees it?"

Michelle tinkled with a laugh "Of course she sees it every day. She thinks it is a great drawing and its only a bit of fun and the boy looks as if he is enjoying it doesn't he?. He looks as if he is about to cum."

She was so matter of fact that I looked at the drawing again and could see what she meant. She was right. I giggled "He doesn't look as if he can last much longer."

She laughed again "You are right Wendy. These boys are all the same. No stamina."

We were both enjoying each others company but I had to ask "But what about your father Michelle. Surely he would object to drawings like that?"

She smiled and I felt she was treating me like a younger sister as she explained "Daddy isn't allowed in any of our bedrooms but even if he saw the drawing it doesn't really matter. He is easily sorted out."

I had already had the impression that Mr Banks was a very nice man but wasn't all that important in the household.

Michelle looked thoughtful and then took me by the hand and led me out of the room and into Andrews bedroom. Again I was shocked. The bedroom could only be described as exceptionally pretty. It was all decorated in pinks and yellows and had a lovely big pink teddy bear on the chair at the side of Andrews bed.

I must confess that once I got over the prettiness of it all I loved it. It was the sort of bedroom I would love to have especially when I was younger. I told Michelle this and it clearly delighted her and she gave me a nice kiss. It wasn't a passionate kiss or anything like that but it was full on my lips and I liked it.

There were no more incidents like that and I tended to put them out of my mind as Andrew and I planned out marriage. The wedding was really lovely and we also managed a modest honeymoon. Neither of us were very experienced and I suppose it was reasonably successful although didn't know what to expect. We then put down a deposit on a small terraced house and for a few years saved very as much as we could to improve things.

Although Andrew was quite shy, he was also quite a clever architect and was slowly making a reputation for himself. I worked in an accounts office.

After about 5 years, as our finances improved we were to mortgage a charming cottage at the end of the village. It was very private although there was another beautiful cottage nearby with our gardens adjoining. There was even a small stream passing at the bottom of our gardens making it all the more idyllic. The mortgage was however quite a strain.

Our neighbours Mr and Mrs Rose were a lovely couple in their very late fifties. Ann was retired and worked a lot in the garden and would also type a few letters for her husband. Mr Henry Rose was semi retired but still held an important position in the property industry.

Mr Rose was also very highly regarded in the nearby village community and they had asked him to be chairman of local Community Committee.

He would organise charity events and send people to collect monies outside the big stores in the main town.

At Xmas times his committee would send a Float around with someone dressed up as Santa to give presents to the Village children. He was such a respected man.

Although they were a very private home loving couple they took an immediate liking to Andrew and myself and we all got on so well. Andrew being an architect found Mr Rose's advice on various buildings invaluable and Mrs Rose was so helpful with her guidance in the garden. We had indeed been so fortunate.

Andrew was not a very dominant macho man and tended to do whatever I told him. He was such an easy comfortable man to live with and over the years I began to understand what my mother had meant when she told me that I would have to take special care of him.

He wasn't a big man and with his lovely delicate face he was very easy to please.

He wasn't a demanding man sexually and I found that I always made the opening moves but to be fair he always responded well enough and did whatever I told him. His physical equipment was not very big and powerful but it was sufficient for my needs although I did wonder what it would be like to do it with a really powerful man.

We used to stay in most nights and after we had tea we would tend to settle down to watch the television in our living room. On one occasion I had left my silk blouse at the side of the settee and I noticed that as we were watching the television that Andrew constantly played with my blouse running his fingers through the material and almost unconsciously rubbing the material against his face. With his gentle smile, he seemed almost dreamlike.

It did fascinate me and although I could have easily asked him, I decided not to embarrass him. Instead I decided to experiment and a few days later I 'accidentally on purpose' left one of my short petticoats out on a chair which was close to where he would be sitting. As he settled down to watch the TV, I saw his startled look as he spotted the nylon petticoat.

I deliberately ignored him and pretended to be concentrating on the TV. I could see him tentatively reach out for the petti and over the next couple of hours stroked the material in his hands in much the same ways as my silk blouse.

I didn't feel annoyed or upset. In fact there was a degree of curious excitement. He clearly liked pretty things and I remembered how pretty his bedroom was in younger days. It made me think more about his delicate porcelain face and my Aunty Rita's words that he was 'positively pretty' and should be 'wrapped up'. I even wondered about buying him a teddy bear.

Over the next few weeks we became much more overt. We didn't talk directly about it but I would now always leave something out for him to play with. I would even leave out some underwear I had been wearing and he always reacted gratefully. On a few occasions I forgot to leave anything out and when I noticed his disappointment I would slip into the bedroom and bring him something. I noticed he was especially grateful when I gave him my tights or a suspender belt.

We hardly talked about it but it was clearly a fetish with him and although he wasn't a big man his excitement did show in the swelling in his trousers. It had got to the stage where he looked as if he may embarrass himself. I quietly suggested "Perhaps it would be better if you went into the bathroom now Andrew to be on your own"

He nodded gratefully "Thank you Wendy". As he left I noticed he always took my tights or silk blouse with him. I could see his little swelling.

I was now enjoying myself as much as I was making him enjoy himself. Helping Andrew with his fetishes made me think more freely about my own secret enjoyments. Like most girls when I was younger I had fantasised a lot about older men in authority and especially along the lines of being disciplined in a friendly way.

When in school the girls all liked the Head Master spanking fantasy and talked about different variations amongst ourselves.

There are so many ways of describing these fantasies but it all came back to the deep seated desire that I wanted to be spanked and preferably by an older man in charge of me.

It made me feel vulnerable and it excited me, especially when I thought about being alone with him in the library.

In that fantasy he would be lecturing me as I had my skirt up and my panties down. I had always been quite a big girl but he would talk to me calling me his little girl. Secretly I wanted to be his little girl.

Actually when I was alone in the bedroom or the bathroom having these secret exciting thoughts, one of my weirder secret fantasies was being spanked by a woman.

My main excitement was the thought of being disciplined. It was essential that the person was older than me but it could be either a man or woman as long as I was vulnerable.

Some evenings after I had given Andrew some of my silky things to play with and he was especially grateful, I started to tell him about my own secret spanking fantasies. As he would be rubbing my underwear into his face, he wasn't really in a position to object and gradually I could see my fantasies were exciting him as much as they did me.

It was exciting to fantasize on my own in the bathroom but it was a million times nicer to tell my husband my fantasies in great detail.

Although he was embarrassed, I found out that I liked saying rude things and he would listen avidly. I loved telling him secret family fantasies with me being spanked by his father or brother or even his mother. Whoever it was supposed to be with it would end with my panties down and my legs open. It was total fantasy but so exciting.

When it came to fruition and bubbling time I would send him to the bathroom and I would retire to our bedroom. We usually took about 30 minutes each before we reappeared in the lounge and by then we were both recovered and settle down with the TV and he would make us a nice cup of tea.

Although my fantasies excited me, I found it an even bigger excitement to tell my husband dirty things and see his excitement become almost uncontrollable. His biggest excitement was when I told him I wanted the Head Master to fuck me. He looked so humiliated when I told him the Head had a much bigger cock than he had. I had to be careful sometimes as Andrew would actually cum in front of me.

He was so embarrassed and humiliated but it became clear to me that the more I told him what I would like the Head to do to me, the more excited he would get. It was even better when I gave him my panties to play with.

I could see he wanted to bring them to his face and I told him a few more naughty things and watched him slowly sniff the silky material before sobbing and them making a mad dash for the bathroom.

This was of course very separate from our day to day lives. It would never be mentioned and as I said earlier he was an ideal husband and we had great respect for one another. I remembered my mothers advice and I took great care of him. He was precious.

Andrew was doing better in his business now and I used to work from home and do all his invoicing. This gave me plenty of time to myself and I really started to enjoy gardening. As Mrs Rose was in her garden quite a lot it was only natural that we chatted over the fence. Her gardening advice was invaluable and she sort of took me under her wing.

On some afternoons she would invite me into her lounge for a cup of tea and we would chat for ages about work and hobbies and just about everything. I told her that it was Andrew's ambition to combine his architect skills with business and hopefully move into the property market.

Ann was so kind and told me "I am sure that Henry will be able to help Andrew with that move whenever he is ready." I thanked her very much. Actually Andrew had voiced the same hope to me a few nights earlier. He thought that Mr Rose was such a knowledgeable man and any advice would be appreciated.

We would sit in her lovely room as she told me that before she had retired she had been been Personnel Manageress at large company and that it had been so interesting and rewarding to help younger people with their problems. She had almost been a mother figure to some of the younger employees.

In work she had been called Ann or Nan and she had smiled when she told me that some of the younger women used to call her Nanny.

I found myself confessing little things to her and was so grateful that she didn't laugh at my little foibles and it made me feel better in myself. I even told her about my Head Master fantasy. She seemed like a loveable Nanny.

After a few weeks of these occasional visits I found myself looking forward to our afternoon chats so much.

I gradually I told her all about Andrew and his apparent liking for my prettier clothes and about his pretty bedroom when he was younger and about the drawing in his sisters bedroom.

I had half expected her to laugh at me or be disgusted but instead she smiled gently saying "That is nothing to worry about Wendy. Anyone can see that your husband is a very attractive man and that it is quite natural for him to like your beautiful clothes".

I was so relieved at her reaction but did say "I suppose you are right Mrs Rose, although it did worry me when my Aunty Rita said that Andrew was so pretty he ought to have been a girl."

Again Ann took away any of my doubts by saying "And what's wrong with that Wendy. There is nothing wrong in being pretty. I can tell you that if Andy was a girl he would be a very pretty girl and I am sure he would wear pretty girly clothes. He would be a gorgeous girl."

I felt so confident now about things that I went on to explain how he would cum as I was talking to him especially when I talked about my Head Master and his big penis.

Again she seemed so knowledgeable and explained to me "As we said Wendy, your husband is small and quite attractive and he probably feels so inadequate when you tell him that you think of men with big penises and his own humiliation excites him."

This concerned me a little and I asked her "Would it be better if I stopped showing him my underclothes and didn't embarrass him by talking dirty?"

She chuckled "I can see you love him so much Wendy but that would be the worse thing you could do to him. He cannot perform normally and you treating him the way you do at the moment is a wonderful relief for him although he gets embarrassed. You could take it a lot further if you want to."

I did want to and I was feeling nicer and nicer as she was so reassuring and asked nervously "I have been thinking about it recently Nan and I did wonder if I should let him wear my clothes"

She nodded "I am surprised you haven't let him wear your clothes before now. He is not big man and your clothes would fit him ideally."

I knew this was true and said "Actually, Nan, I have let him try my blouse on and taken a photograph"

I thought that I may be boring her with this trivial detain but she seemed genuinely interested and said "That's lovely, Wendy. He really is attractive. I would like to see his picture like that."

I felt wonderful. I had the picture in my bag and I could see the pleasure in her face as she looked at Andrew.

She smiled at me saying "He really is so beautiful, Wendy. You are so lucky to be married to such a pretty little boy."

The way she spoke about my husband was a little unusual but it was so intimate that it made me feel really flushed. It was exciting.

I almost wanted to hug her but I knew that it wouldn't be appreciated.

As she looked at Andrew's picture she asked "What about your skirt Wendy."

I blushed "I hadn't thought of going that far"

She smiled sympathetically "Why ever not Wendy. And your underclothes as well. I am sure Andy would love them."

We were moving on now and my mind was racing and it was quite pleasurable as I told her "I let him play with my tights when we watch the television."

She laughed "I am sure Andy Pandy would love to wear them." She added "And your panties."

I loved how she was referring to Andrew in that familiar way but gasped "My panties?"

She smiled at my surprise "Of course Wendy. Not only your panties but your brassiere as well."

The exciting thoughts were racing through my mind and I murmured "But my bra wouldn't fit him very well."

She smiled "That is only cosmetic Wendy. With a little padding we could make him appear to have really nice big breasts. Later on we could make it even more real. He could be a really pretty girly boy. Nice and juicy." She added with a tinkling laugh "A lovely Andy Pansy. A Pretty Pansy."

The conversation with all the girly words was now really exciting me and I was wriggling a little as we chatted. I noticed that she referred to 'we' a lot and I loved this. I felt I wanted her to help me as much as possible. I loved being in her company.