I will tell you of how I met Angela, my new best friend. She has an interesting story to tell and I was ultimately able to pry it from her. It is worth repeating, and so I tell it to you here on these pages. I am sure that she would not mind.
A few months ago my 20 year old step-son entered our home along with a woman whom I had never seen him with before. Her age I would place closer to 30 than to 20, and therefore I was curious as to who she was. She was a blonde with shoulder length hair, and she was very attractive with a slender girlish shape. Of medium height with long legs, she had a small but well-rounded tush and perky breasts I would take for a size B. While she had the look of innocence about her, her attire suggested otherwise, dressed in a tight petite black leather skirt above the knees and a low cut top without a bra. She smiled meekly towards me when she spied me sitting in the living room, and lowered her eyes as if in shame. I knew that I recognized her from somewhere but could not immediately place the face. Matt gave me a quick hello and equally quickly rushed the woman up the stairs to his room, her spike heels clicking on the floor as she rushed by me.
I was surprised to hear how quickly the bed frame began to knock against the bedroom wall. Quite the girl I thought. I was equally surprised by how soon it stopped. Losing his edge I thought. Soon the happy couple were back down the steps and at the front door. Seeing her standing there it came to me where I had seen her before. She was a regular at church, typically seated between her husband and her father. I knew her father well, and knew him to be a strict and firm man. Her behaviour upstairs therefore surprised me a great deal. As Matt opened the door I rose up and asked "Matt, must you be going so soon after just arriving home?" I inquired.
"Gotta go mom, ball practise, can't be late." He replied.
"And does your new friend need to leave so soon as well, or can she stay a while?" Matt just shrugged his shoulders as she tried to make an excuse to go, but grasping her by her arm I insisted "Please, stay for a while, I always try to become better acquainted with Matt's new friends." At this Matt was out the door, leaving the poor girl standing with me, blushing and clearly ashamed of her recent performance. "Sit dear." I further insisted, and sat her on the love seat across from the sofa I was sitting on. "Are you not the daughter of Mr. Jacobs?" I inquired. "And the wife of that nice young man that sits beside you at church?" I asked. She nodded her head meekly while staring at her feet, unable to look me in the eyes.
Touching her chin I pulled her face up to mine. "Look at me child." I insisted further. "Look at me when I speak to you directly." She nodded softly as her wet eyes stared into mine. "I know your father to be a good man, a man of God. And your husband appears to be a handsome enough fellow. So tell me, why were you just fucking my son?" I jabbed accusingly. Her eyes fell back to her feet but seizing her by her hair I forced her face back in alignment with my own. "Tell me your name now, and why you just fucked my son, or I will march right over to your father's house and tell him what I know!"
With this threat tears started streaming from her eyes and she could only mutter "I am so ashamed, so humiliated. Please don't tell my father, I will tell you anything, I will do anything. Please." Finally, we were getting somewhere. I released the girl and calmed her down with a few drinks, and then let her tell me her story.
She said that her name was Angela, and she explained how her husband had converted her from a timid virgin at the age of 18 into the "cum dump" (her words, not mine) I now saw before me now. She began to explain her life and situation to me - Growing up I had a very domineering and controlling father, and this resulted in my being a meek and nervous virgin to the age of 18. In fact, on completely high school, I had never kissed a boy and dressed in an overly conservative manner, which ensured that no boys ever took an interest in me. On attending college I was fortunate to meet with some great girls who helped me come out of my shell a bit, taught me to wear make-up and dress a bit more tantalizingly, and most importantly, introduced me to boys at the local parties. At one of the parties I met the boy who was ultimately to become my husband.
Paul was a few years older than myself, tall charismatic, and very handsome. He paid me attention at the party after being introduced by a mutual friend, and I fell for him instantly. Embarrassingly, having had a few drinks and being infatuated with Paul at first sight, I made out with him on the back deck swing that very night. I even permitted him to go a bit further, despite my better judgement and the lifelong warnings of my father that all boys only wanted one thing. We kissed deeply and then he slipped his tongue into my mouth. I eagerly accepted his warmth and did not even flinch when he placed his hand upon my bare knee, showing under my summer dress. I gasped but still did not resist when he placed his hand on top of my breast and began to caress my flesh through my top and bra. Only when he attempted to slide his hand up my leg did I insist he stop. Aware of the limits I imposed and being a gentlemen he did not attempt to go any further again, and the rest of the night we spent in each other's arms, kissing and fondling. After this first night together we were forever inseparable afterward.
I soon confessed to Paul that I was a virgin, and had in fact never been with a man before in any manner. I described my father's strict religious upbringing, his strongly domineering and overly controlling nature, and how he would never let me leave the house to meet with friends after school throughout all of high school. I told Paul how I had become a book worm, and how I had always been very shy and reserved around boys. Surprising me, Paul said that my innocence and purity turned him on deeply, and that he loved that he would be the first man in my life. I explained that we could share some aspects of our love, but that I wanted to save myself for marriage. He accepted my conditions, but also placed his own conditions and expectations on our relationship. He said that I would have to be prepared to explore our sexuality together in ever regard short of intercourse, to trust him, and to obey his commands without question. I was actually very excited by his terms, having fantasized about being controlled sexually by a man, and agreed to them eagerly.
Paul was gentle and slow, letting me learn and explore my sensual desires at my own pace. In time I offered him my breasts, which he caressed and sucked upon so lovingly that I would beg for more. He asked me if I was wet between my legs and embarrassing I admitted that I was. He said that I should play with myself then as he fondled my breasts and kissed my lips, and that he would play with himself as well. I laid back upon the bed, resting my head on a soft pillow and leaving my bare breasts exposed for his enjoyment. Sliding my hand under my dress I began to touch myself beneath my panties while Paul played with my nipples and pulling his pants off began to stroke his stiff penis where I could watch. I had never seen a real one before and found it to be a fascinating object. He noticed the intensity of my staring at his crotch and moved upward so that I could see his full penis more easily.
"Do you like looking at my penis?" Paul asked.
