Jill Harrington slowly brought her horse to a slow and easy stop. The lovely sunset just beginning it's panorama of colour and light. The red of her stable and barn almost matching the approaching sun's fall. Of all the things her divorce years past had garnered her, Jill believed her horses were her favourite. None of them would be thoroughbred stock and none would ever win the Kentucky Derby, but Jill Harrington loved them all the same. She would take a ride at sunrise, and another at sunset nearly every day. Nearly.
As the stable boy took the reins Jill glared down at him. Looking at the dirty Mexican as you would something you just stepped in. She disliked having to hire help but it was truly a necessary evil. Having money and having stuff required help, and part of her lifestyle was to enjoy having, "the help", as it were. After quickly given instructions on the feeding and brushing, repeated a few times for good measure, Jill Harrington dismounted the steed and headed to the house. She had never really despised the help, until the divorce came as a result of Mr. Harrington's inability to keep his hands to himself. His inability to keep from diddling the maid and the chef's assistant and his secretary. After that the help was on the receiving end of the bad end of the stick, to put it nicely.
Getting into the house Jill put her crop down, and took off her riding gloves and scarf. Looking through the mail and headed for a nice long bath. Truly luxurious her bath time always was. Truly. She had the maid draw her a nice hot bubble bath. A great way to end the day for Jill. As she undressed, she stripped down and put on her favorite silk robe. Pink and short and oh so soft. Dismissing the older woman, once her bath was ready, Jill Harrington locked herself in her spacious en suite and prepared for a long slow soak in the tub. Dropping her robe, a sudden whim came to Jill Harrington. A deliciously decadent idea in her conservative mind. And after all, why not?
So with a nervous giggle, Jill sat on the edge of her luxurious bathtub. Taking out a nice little can of shaving gel. And a nice new pink razor. And taking a deep breath. Her naked body glistened in the steamy warm atmosphere as Jill Harrington parted her pale thighs. Biting her lip at the naughtiness of what she was doing, she gave a nice squirt of the pink shave gel right along the well trimmed landing strip she sported. The soft blonde down soaking it in as she giggled from the tickling feeling. The tingling feeling. So long since she had a man between those lush thighs. Not since the divorce and not for far too long.
Her legs wide apart and her toes pointed into the delightfully warm and bubbly bath water, Jill looked down and bit her lip as she slowly ran the pink razor up each side of her slit. Slowly denuding herself. Slowly removing the scant protection provided by her scant little landing strip. Using her hand to check for smoothness, she decided another run was in order. And this time, she filled her hand with the warming shave gel. Closing her blue eyes, Jill used her creamy gelled hand to massage her newly bald slit. A bit more than necessary. And discarding the razor, she slowly sank into the warm bath. Her eyes closed and her hand rubbing, massaging, masturbating herself. For a full hour. Listening at the door, the maid smirked at the soft moans of a woman pleasuring herself, as they echoed in the roomy, steamy, bathroom.
Heather Harrington...
The softly lit room smelled of incense and perfume. Candlelight flickering, causing the shadows to chase each other across the solid wood furniture. The sounds of mellow jazz wafted through, and the breeze outside rustled the fine embroidered drapes. The bedroom, while spacious, was not decadently huge. Not cavernous and certainly well understated.
So as the music played, the breeze blew, and the candles flickered, Heather Harrington tucked her long, straight, honey blonde hair behind her ear. Laying on her marital bed, on her side, and wearing only a sheer pink nightie, she looked first at the webcam. Then at her husband. And as her husband groaned, squirmed, and stuggled, tied to his chair and gagged, with his cock trying painfully to become erect in its steel tube, Heather Harrington wrapped her lips around her lover's hard cock and started to suck. Her blue eyes never leaving her husband's...
Since starting a somewhat risky online relationship with a somewhat risky partner, Heather's marriage had become something of a play, acted very frivolously. A play where the drama and comedy became one with her role as the leading lady. Her husband Gregory having been relegated to a bit player at best. His role diminished. His part only a supporting character at best. An understudy to her leading men.
The game had began innocently enough. Heather was a stay at home wife, and one thing led to another as will happen when a housewife has too much time in the day to explore things a working woman wouldn't have time for. Her online refuge became an online meeting place for her. The private chats. The steamy online conversations that she engaged in while she let all sense of time escape her. While her husband was away at work, away on business, away from Heather Harrington, she discovered a whole community online. She knew he had a fondness for porn, so the slight guilt she felt at first quickly diminished.
Then she met Michelle. Michelle seemed a free spirit and she took Heather to a new level of cyber sex. The steamy sessions became more and more kinky, with Heather finding out she had a submissive side. A submissive streak that Michelle quickly brought out and exploited. They would cyber for hours, leaving Heather a quivering wreck. Then Michelle stepped up the games.
It started as simple dare games. I dare you to...was the key phrase that would send Heather into a lustful pattern of behaviour most wives wouldn't consider. And the dares started easily enough. Higher heels, shorter skirts, more makeup. Her first outing to the mall without panties under her miniskirt and Heather was hooked. Of course Michelle insisted it didn't happen if there wasn't pics. Heather's toned and firm body and her beautiful face were quite photogenic, and the high definition pictures were very nicely done. The first time she sent Michelle pictures of her, completing a dare, Heather had demurely suggested that her marriage and her reputation were at stake. Suggesting to Michelle that with those pictures hanging over her head, Heather would be rather compliant in submitting to anything Michelle desired. This played well into both of their hands. Heather loved giving Michelle that kind of hold over her, and Michelle was only too happy to take it.
Gradually the dares became more risque. More sexual. More difficult. Heather hadn't started out on this journey bisexual, but she was quickly becoming so. The challenges set to her by Michelle including flashing her perky breasts to salesgirls and secretaries. Very discreetly but nonetheless very obviously at the same time. At Michelle's behest she kissed her first girl, and felt her first tits other than her own. Tasted her first pussy, other than her own. Michelle was a full fledged lesbian and it delighted her to no end to be introducing a married, heterosexual woman to the sapphic arts, albeit slowly.
Then Gregory became a part of the games. Poor innocent Heather had no idea Michelle was working off a secret agenda. So little by little her husband had a role to play. It started with the porn. Heather began watching porn with her husband. Then, more and more housewife type porn. Male and male and female threesomes. Cheating porn. Heather noticed Gregory would cum the hardest when she slowly stroked his cock, while nibbling on his ear and whispering about how other men would fuck her harder, longer, and deeper than him. It was all just fantasy of course.
But not for long. The first time Michelle gave Heather a challenge, to give a strange man a hand job, Heather had balked. The sex with other women didn't feel like it was cheating on her husband, but being slutty with a man was different. At least to Heather it was. Michelle reminded Heather that her marriage was entirely in her hands, and reminded Heather that she had pictures of Heather's unladylike behavior. So Heather reluctantly performed her task. Arriving home afterwords, Heather masturbated furiously to several climaxes over the entire situation. That was all the hook she needed. After that, Heather found she couldn't wait to be given a hotwife challenge, as Michelle came to call them. At first without her Husband's knowledge, Heather would have torrid affairs. Hot sexual trysts with men she met online or men introduced to her by Michelle. Men that were strippers. Male models. Male porn stars. The empire built by Michelle provided no shortage of hard cock for Heather, and she sampled the cornucopia with eager delectation.
It was Michelle that suggested the cock tube for Gregory. And he eagerly complied, having been led to fantasize about cuckoldry by his loving wife. And it was Michelle that suggested he watch. So that night, as Heather sucked another man's cock in front of her husband, for the first time, the fun did truly begin.
Jill Harrington sat anxiously awaiting her daughter's arrival. Her breakfast cold and her newspaper unread. The morning sun filtered through the sheer drapes in her solarium, giving the room a warm glow. But Jill only felt cold and nervous. Her daughter Chloe had left the night before, ostensibly to go clubbing. Jill tolerated it, so long as Chloe brought home good grades. But this time was different. Chloe had almost snuck out the back door, before Jill could ask where and with whom she would be going. Jill only caught a glimpse of the scandalously skimpy dress her daughter was wearing, before Chloe disappeared into her best friend Erica's SUV.
Repeated calls and texts to Chloe had no result and now she hadn't come home. So with trembling nerves Jill Harrington called her daughter's phone for the umpteenth time. She knew what a prize her daughter would be to any randomly gorgeous young man, and had no desire to be a grandmother at her age. To say nothing of the damage it would do to her own reputation in her social circles. The simple and honest truth was that Jill Harrington was more concerned for her own reputation than she was for her daughter's well being. To say it was selfish hadn't even crossed her mind. So she stirred her cold coffee and wished again that she hadn't given up smoking.
