Uptight Annie Ch 02

Annette's cloudy mind tried to assess her appearance as Steven opened the front door. Usually when when he came home, he would find her hunched over her computer desk enthralled by her research or typing away at her thesis. But today, as she looked down at her supple curvy body, she realized that Steve would definitely notice a difference. Her already slightly too-big tits were taut underneath her shirt. The short little plaid schoolgirl skirt was riding up, exposing almost all of her pale white thighs. And worst of all, her body was covered in splashes of hot soapy water. A stack of clean dishes piled up next to the sink. She had been a good little housewife, and she felt humiliated.

Steven eyed her up and down as he walked into the kitchen. The musky vanilla scent of her new lotion was wearing away, and suddenly she felt deeply self-conscious. "What are you looking at?" she snapped. He looked reproached, and she felt a little better. "Nothing, sweetheart" he replied, putting down his bag and walking towards her. "You look nice", he almost smiled. Suddenly, she felt warmer. She felt bad for being mean. Also, she could smell him. He smelled really good - musky, hot, and male. A little like her lotion. She felt confused.

"Um. Thanks. I.. I need to get back to work", she said.

He was close to her now. She could see the dark stubble on his face. Something about the way he towered over her made her nervous. She felt his hot hand on her breast, and remembered she wasn't wearing a bra. He grabbed her hard. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. She felt her nipples stand up underneath her wet cold shirt. She felt her pussy heat up and moisten in response. And she felt his hot, hard cock gently pressing against her skirt.

"Hey! W-wait!" she exclaimed. And she didn't know what else to say. She tried to step away, and he stepped closer to her. He backed her all the way up against the sink, and suddenly he was kissing her deeply. Despite herself, her mouth opened up, and his tongue pushed in, taking over her mouth. She felt full, fulfilled, and right. His hard dick pressed up against her meant she was giving him pleasure. He was filling her mouth completely.

And then suddenly he stopped. "Thanks for doing the dishes, babe". He walked out, and left her there, horny, soaking, and confused.

***

Annette woke up the next morning feeling swelteringly hot and completely naked. One hand instinctively crept up to her tits, mauling them mindlessly. Somehow, her nipples were already hard. Her other hand barely crept down to just above her pussy before she felt it soaking wet and needy. Hot dopamine fireworks went off in her brain as soon as she touched it.

She stretched out luxuriously, and almost unconsciously she found her hand grasped around the cylindrical bottle of moisturizer. She massaged and squeezed it. The sweet, musky cream squirted onto her hand, and she gratefully rubbed the stuff all over her body until she was shimmering and absolutely primed for sex. And then she looked at the time.

11:14. 11:14? What did that mean? How could that be? Usually she was up at 8 AM with Steven. He made her coffee. She'd explain to him some new details of her research. He'd take off to work, and she'd have the place to herself to work and to think.

But today she was confused. It was past 11 and she was sprawled out on the bed, completely naked and still absentmindedly stroking her wet cunt. She tried to stop when she realized what she was doing, but all she managed to do was sit up. One wet finger slid along her lips as she tried to figure out what to do. Her finger was sweet with the taste of pussy juice and musky lotion combining together. Helplessly she sucked on it.

She stood up and got out of bed, two fingers still deep in between her pillowy lips. She absentmindedly licked and sucked on them, her overly sensitive tongue and lips relishing the sensation.

"Clothes," she thought, "I really need to get dressed. I never even put on panties yesterday. I need panties. I really, really need to wear some cute panties." Annie bent down to her underwear drawer slowly and luxuriously, hyper-aware of her exposed and soaking cunt. She felt confused. And horny. But mostly confused. She was rarely naked. She was never wet. Annette had always been a prude. But right then, with her ass in the air, she wanted nothing more than to be bred like an animal.

She eventually picked out tiny lacy pink pair of undies, and slipped them onto her slick thighs. These were old, she hadn't worn them in years. She didn't even remember buying them, actually. Did Steven put them there? Her mind was working too hard. Frustrated, she turned around and stared at herself in the mirror, idly tweaking a hard pink nipple. Were her tits - uh, breasts - were her breasts bigger than yesterday? She couldn't remember.

Modesty. She was getting dressed. She managed to stuff her tits into a lacy pink bra that just seemed a little too small and tight. She turned in the mirror again, admiring her tight and curvy body, amazed at how she felt incapable of looking away. And then suddenly, the doorbell rang.

***

On her front porch was another small cardboard box. She was overwhelmed by a sense of deja vu. Hadn't this happened yesterday? But as she reached down for the box, she realized something was very different. She was almost completely naked except for an unfamiliar and entirely skimpy set of lingerie. She was completely exposed to the street, where traffic whizzed by. She felt dizzy and dirty and very naked.

She quickly picked up the box, whirled around, and slammed the door shut, breathing heavily, unsure how long she had even been standing outside. She knew something was going on. She knew this wasn't how she usually behaved. She was Annette. She was a doctoral candidate in psychology. Her passion in life was research, and she did not go walking around in frilly little panties like some dumb slut. Something strange was happening to her mind, and she didn't know

But there was still the matter of the box to attend to. She considered it carefully. The old Annette would realize something amiss, the old Annette would definitely not be tempted to open up this box. But it was so tempting.

She grabbed a pair of scissors and hastily ripped open the box. Surrounded by layers of bubble wrap was a something shiny and pink - a thick, glossy pink vibrator. At first she recoiled, thinking "Surely this must be a mistake. Vibrators are phallic and disgusting, they're representative of oppression they're.. it's... so big..."

She couldn't help but be mesmerized by the thing. It smelled sweet and musky, the whole thing did, sort of like her moisturizer. Moisturizer which she suddenly found herself craving. She stroked her fingers over the shaft of the vibrator and picked it up, feeling a wet warmth deep in her cunt. No, vagina, not cunt.

Without thinking, she pressed a button on the front, and the whole thing whirred to life. She pressed it up against her cunt.. her cunt. She couldn't help herself, she was instantly set on fire. Hardly able to walk, she made her way to the bedroom, her body pulsating in rhythm with the vibrations. She covered her fingers with musky moisturizer, and yet again rubbed it all over herself. As she did, incredible pleasure came over her. All thoughts seemed irrelevant. Her intelligence seemed so stupid, so far away, so useless. She plunged the vibrator deep insider her cunt, filling herself, humping it desperately. All she wanted to do was cum, over and over again, feel the pulsating vibration in her panties. The moisturizer had washed all thoughts but pleasure away. The vibration told her everything she needed to know. Thinking was pointless. She knew what she was. She was just a stupid girl. She was a slut for pleasure.

***

Annette came to her senses a few hours later. She was lying in bed in the dying light, with a quickly dying vibrator still deep inside her panties. She was almost completely naked. As she took stock of her situation, she felt deeply uneasy.

She got up out of bed without looking in the mirror, without fixing her hair, without adjusting her makeup. She wandered into the living room. She thought of her work. She hadn't worked in two days. She sat down at her computer and pulled up the latest section of her thesis. As soon as she opened it, her eyes glazed over. The words were blurring together before she could even start. She started to panic - wasn't this her passion? Why didn't she even care? Thinking just seemed really hard. Helpless and confused, she started to cry. Which was even weirder. She was usually stoic, and here she was an emotional little girl. And then the door unlocked, and Steven walked in.

"Hey, babe. Wow! Are you working? I didn't expect th-" he stopped himself.

"Stevie! Steven!" she exclaimed, "I'm so confused! I feel all weird and funny and I woke up late and all I did today was sleep and play with myself and cum and- oh, oh no, I shouldn't even tell you that, I promise I'm not a little slut, I promise!"

She realized she was babbling and tried to shut herself up. As Steven walked toward her, he towered over where she sat in her chair.

"All you're wearing is panties and a bra, Annie." He said, "You sort of look like a slut to me".

Deep shame washed over her. She could see herself objectively for the first time since she'd opened up the box of lotion. All she could think about lately was her oversexed body. She wasn't working, she wasn't building her career, she was just fucking herself over and over. She started crying harder. And for some reason, the whole thing was making her feel warm, and good.

"Oh, silly girl, don't be sad. You look so sexy." he said.

He was standing above her where she sat in her chair. Her face was level with his crotch, and through his jeans she could see he was hard. He said:

"I think things are turning out just fine for you. Maybe you feel like you're changing. Maybe you feel confused and slow and horny. But maybe this is how you're supposed to be. Maybe you belong in your panties in my house. Maybe this is what you've always wanted. You're a good girl, Annie".

She felt a burst of pleasure at his words. Her pussy did feel wet. She was still crying, but she couldn't get around how good she felt despite herself.

He unzipped his jeans and hoisted his cock out of his pants. It was hot and musky and strong. It really smelled like it had been inside his pants all day. She felt paralyzed. She couldn't stop looking at it. Annette knew she was not the type of girl to give blowjobs. Usually she would avoid even looking at Steven's cock if she didn't have to. But as he took out his cock, she could do nothing but watch, utterly hypnotized.

He stuck his dick between her soft, pillowy lips, her face still wet from crying. She could smell his musk. At first she tried to draw her face away from him. But he put his hand on the back of her head and and gripped it firmly. He pulled her head down onto his cock, and her mouth opened up almost instinctively. It just felt right, somehow.

"Good girl, good girl", he told her. "Stupid bitch, don't let your teeth touch it. Good girl. Open up wider".

She felt a flash of utter shame that she'd displeased him. It didn't seem worth it to question him. She knew she had to do a good job. She was doing the most important job in the world. She was pleasing him. He fucked her mouth, deeper and deeper, his large cock filling her up and stretching her out. She was nothing but a hole, and she felt right. She tried not to gag as the head of his cock hit her throat. Her cunt was burning hot, but pleasing herself seemed irrelevant.

He started to speed up. He grasped handfuls of her long blond hair. She was nothing but a head for him to fuck, and she was doing such a good job. She was being such a good girl. Suddenly, she felt gobs of hot, sticky cum pour down her throat. It was sweet, so tasty, so good. It felt just like her lotion. He pulled his cock out of her mouth, still spurting, and deposited the last of his seed on her open and waiting lips.

He stood back a few steps, looked at her, and said "Good girl. Very subservient. You're coming along quite nicely".

And then he walked away to the bathroom. She was left there, her face wet with cum and tears, just a wet hole sitting in the dark. And she felt so good. She'd fulfilled her purpose.

She wanted more lotion.