Message-ID: <22360asstr$948341401@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
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From: Jennifer Doalfer <doalfer@my-deja.com>
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X-Article-Creation-Date: Wed Jan 19 21:28:50 2000 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} Jennifer: The Changing Room - Proofed repost (MF, exhib, voy, wife)
Date: Wed, 19 Jan 2000 23:10:01 -0500
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THIS STORY IS PROTECTED UNDER THE LAWS OF COPYRIGHT. ANY REPRODUCTIONS,
ALTERATIONS, AND/OR SALES WITHOUT THE WRITTEN PERMISSION OF THE AUTHOR
IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED.
This story is one of a series of stories published to
www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/doalfer/www. Please also read the other ones, preferably in
the right order. I am very greateful for the proofreading done by my
friend PJ. Comments are very welcome. Jennifer Doalfer -
doalfer@hotmail.com
Note: This is a repost after PJ has proofed it.
THE CHANGING ROOM (MF exhib. Voy)
I am using the name Jennifer Doalfer, even though for obvious reasons
it is not my own name. However, it is similar to the name of a friend I
had in university and whose personality I like to adopt when I write.
I am 35 years old and live in an old house in the suburbs of
Copenhagen, Denmark, (that's a country in Europe - in case you don't
know). I have two children and I am happily married. And no - I am
not going to tell you what I look like - just imagine whatever turns
you on. I can tell you though, that I am still attractive enough to
make men's heads turn.
I am sorry to disappoint you; I am not a husband-cheating slut who
cannot get enough sex. But what am I like then? I don't really know.
I have always liked to write, and from when I was quite young, I have
both documented real sexual experiences in my diary, and written
fiction. Usually the fiction is based upon something that has happened,
and which in itself hasn't been very naughty or exciting, but for some
reason has got my imagination going. When my husband is away I often
sit at the computer writing what I dream could happen. That really
excites me and I love to write when I am in that condition. Later
however, when I read them again I can feel quite embarrassed.
I am a little bit of an exhibitionist; I like people looking at me. In
Denmark topless swimming at the beaches is quite normal. I love being
at the beach, knowing people are looking at me. Fortunately stiff
nipples can be explained away by the cold wind, of which we have a lot
of there. I like to wear loose blouses or dresses and get quite
excited when I discover somebody looking at my tits. I know my husband
likes me to do it, and he often encourages me, but I cannot get myself
to admit to him that I actually enjoy it. I just let him believe I
accept it for his sake.
I have only had a few extramarital affairs, and they are not really
anything I feel bad about, because they have only been single
occurrences, and only driven by sexual desire, and not because I loved
somebody else. Before I met my husband, I was quite wild and I feel I
have experienced enough during that time, so that I don't need more
than the relationship with husband can supply (which I am pleased to
say, is quite a lot).
However, I do have these wild dreams. I wouldn't dare to dream of them
coming true, but I like to write about them. The other day I found a
site, which asked for people to submit their own naughty stories. I
had never really thought of publicising any of mine, but all of a
sudden, the thought excited me tremendously. I took one of the few
stories I have written about a real occurrence and sent it in. I don't
know what will happen to it - I can't be bothered to pay for access to
the site to see if they feature it, but having done it and experienced
the thrill of it, it has made me want to write and publish more of my
writings.
What I would like to do is write stories and publish them in this
newsgroup. There is a lot of SPAM, but some people seem to request real-
life stories, so I hope to find an audience. My stories are either
based upon some occurrence that has triggered my imagination, or they
entirely fictitious or possibly some of the real occurrences of things
I have written about in the past.
The following is the only thing that has come to my mind recently,
but I hope you like it. Comments are welcome at doalfer@hotmail.com
In preparation for a big party we were invited to, my husband Poul and
I went to the shops in Copenhagen. I wanted a nice, somewhat "daring"
dress, and we had to go to the more expensive shops to find a suitable
one. I used Poul as an indication as to whether the dress I was trying
on, was "exciting" enough. I knew he wanted me to wear something which
would show my body off, and I let him believe I was doing it for his
sake. He likes the simple type with a bare back and just a couple of
strings to hold up the front, usually tied at the back of the neck, or
perhaps with a more elaborate string system. I like that sort too, as
they show off my body nicely. As I tried on the third one in as many
shops, I started to suspect that Poul just had me trying on so many
because he liked that fact that I had to strip practically naked in the
fitting-room to change into them.
He would usually manage to slip aside the curtain just as I was
getting a dress over my head, and I know from the look at his face that
that he was getting excited from watching me. I actually felt a bit
excited myself, so I let him leave the curtain open a bit, so he could
see in from outside as I changed into the next dress. I expected him
to be looking at me, so I was surprised when I looked through the gap
in the curtain, that I could not see him. Seeing I was decent enough
now and I was wearing the next dress, I peeked out through the
curtain. Poul was standing a bit further over to the side, and I
realised that another couple was also trying out clothes in the fitting-
room next to ours. He was pretending not to look, but I knew he was
trying to peer into the other changing room. He finally saw me and came
over, commented on the dress, but obviously wanting to get back to his
old position. I don't know what he could see in the other fitting-
room, but I could see the other guy doing the same outside the other
one; looking in, commenting, hanging around bored and pretending not to
look at me or the crack Poul had left open in the curtain into our
fitting-room. I was slightly annoyed, but I could also feel myself
getting excited. I looked out again, Poul never looked my way again,
so I left the curtain about 8 inches open, turned my back to the gap
and started to slip the dress over my head again.
I don't know if the other guy was looking in. I tried to look in the
mirror but I couldn't see anything in that direction, and I was too
embarrassed to turn around and maybe find him staring at me. I just
made sure I turned sideways to the opening as I pulled the dress over
my head, maybe leaving my arms up a bit longer than necessary.
I knew he must be watching, what guy wouldn't? I just hoped Poul
being there didn't make the guy shy. I bent down to get my shoes off
(I had brought high heels along to try on with the dresses, as they
don't look good in flat shoes), even though I could have waited until I
had my T-shirt on again. I only had on my small tanga panties, which I
was going to wear under the dress, and as I imagined him looking at me
like that, I felt my nipples go hard. I found and changed the shoes.
I took a long time to *find* my T-shirt and get it on. Finally I was
finished and had to emerge. The other guy was in a perfect position to
look in - but he didn't look at me, or in any way indicate if he had
been watching. As my excitement subsided I felt a bit embarrassed and
we hurried out of the shop. We went back to the first shop, tried on
the very first dress again - but this time the changing was entirely
uneventful, and I finally decided on that one.
Thinking back on this and writing it, makes it feel much more exciting
than it was at the time. I don't even know if anybody saw anything -
but gosh, have I been dreaming about it ever since.
Let's backtrack a bit: I looked out again, Poul was not looking my
way, so I left the curtain 8 to 10 inches open, turned my back to the
opening, and started to slip the dress over my head again. In the
mirror I saw some movement through the opening. First I thought it was
Poul, but then I realised the other guy had positioned himself so he
could pretend to be looking into the other changing room, but also have
a clear view of me through the opening in the curtains. I decided that
if Poul could look at other girls, I could have a bit of fun too. I
changed my mind and let the dress drop down again. I turned around
looking at it from all sides.
I pretended to check how revealing it was by lifting the material
away at the sides baring my breasts. I turned back and forth
pretending to look at myself in the mirror but actually I was looking
at him. He was handsome, with a rather square face and sand-coloured
hair. I found myself getting really excited and I wet my fingers and
squeezed my nipples hard. I let the material cover my breasts again
and pretended to check how much my hard nipples were visible through
the material. I wondered how that made him feel. The dress clung to
my body. I stretched it down over my backside pretending to see how
much my tanga strings were visible through the material. I decided
they were too obvious and lifted up the dress so that I could try to
reposition them, and at the same time letting him see a good deal of my
bottom. I was still quite tanned from the summer, and I had a distinct
white area where my bikini bottoms had been. I always find that this
area is rather private, because it indicates where you haven't
otherwise been willing to reveal in public. Having tanned breasts
shows that you sunbathe topless, but baring the white parts of my
bottom is to me really exciting. After having dropped the dress again
I could still see the outline of the tanga, so I lifted up the dress
once again, and this time removing the panties completely. I made sure
the dress stayed up above the cheeks of my bottom as I bent down to
untangle the panties from my shoes, giving him a perfect view of my
upturned rear-end. I keep my pubic hair neatly trimmed as I cannot
otherwise wear small bikini bottoms, but I still leave enough hair to
make it look as though I'm not completely shaved. However, I know that
from that position he must have been able to see my swollen lips, which
were probably obviously glistening wet from my excited state.
As I stood up again I looked in the mirror. He was right at the
opening, not even pretending not to look in. I wondered what Poul was
doing. Was he so concentrating on what he was seeing in the other room
that he wasn't noticing? Or was he finding it exciting to let the
other guy watch? Maybe they had agreed to swap positions to look at
each other's wives? As these thoughts flew through my head I realised
that he was looking straight at my eyes in the mirror, and was
obviously well aware that I was looking at him also.
I didn't look away but kept staring back - provocatively indicating
that I didn't mind. He could look as much as he liked - or more if he
dared.
I looked away again, smoothing the material over my backside.
Obviously now there was no outline, but on the other hand it clung to
the body in a way which also definitely showed that I wasn't wearing
anything underneath. Did I dare to go to the party like this?
As I was pondering this question I felt more than saw the curtain
move. I looked in the mirror and saw the guy slipping in. I didn't
know what to feel. The situation was unreal. I know I had been
goading him along, I know I was getting very excited myself, but I
hadn't really thought it would come to this! I kept thinking that as
long as Poul was outside it was safe to go along with this guy. Now I
could see Poul standing in the gap looking in, but quite obviously not
intending to interfere. A shiver went through my body as I realised
that Poul wanted this guy to be in here with me. All of a sudden I
felt so horny that my legs almost buckled under me. Fortunately the
guy was now up against me, holding his hands on my shoulders. All I
could do was lean up against him resting my neck on his shoulder. He
smelled nice. I looked in the mirror and saw him slowly sliding the
straps down over my shoulders and lifting the dress free of my
breasts. My nipples were as hard as I can remember ever having seen
them. I am quite proud of my tits; even after two kids they are large
and firm but maybe not as firm as when I was 18. The softness makes
them wobble when I walk, making it clear when I am not wearing a bra,
which I know makes guys look at me. Now this guy cupped them, lifting
them up and squeezing the nipples. I closed my eyes as he kept working
them over and kissing my neck. He grabbed my hair and forced my face
towards him so he could kiss my mouth. I was hungry for a kiss. He
smelled of excited man and I could feel a harness against my bottom as
he was getting more excited. Boy, this was so naughty. How could this
be happening? We were only five feet from his own wife and from Poul,
who had now moved the curtain further aside and made no secret of
watching us.
I didn't really care what, where or who, I was loosing it. I just
wanted this to advance to wherever it might lead, and the circumstances
just made it more sexy and exciting.
I felt his hand travelling down my stomach, grabbing a handful of
skirt and pulling it up. I looked in the mirror as my thighs became
visible. Again he lowered his hand, this time grabbing the hem at the
bottom of the dress and pulling it all the way up, baring my crotch. I
could clearly see where the tuft of hair I had deliberately left
stopped, and the shaven part of my pussy began. I lifted my hands over
my head indicating that I wanted him to take it off completely. Being
in front of the mirror added extra excitement, because it really made
me even more aware that I was now standing in front of a stranger,
completely naked, just letting him do whatever he wanted. I turned
sideways to him, making it easier for his hand to reach between my
legs. I knew I was wet, but only when his hands started to travel over
my pussy, lightly touching my lips and spreading the wetness all over,
did I realise just how wet I had become. I put one leg up on the small
chair in the corner of the room, allowing him easier access. He took
advantage of that and soon found my clit, but only teasingly, touching
it lightly. I grabbed his hand and violently pressed it on me, rubbing
it hard against me, the way I now craved. I could feel the nails of
his other hand travelling down my back. I thrust my bottom towards it,
wanting it to join in the game. He wet his fingers in my juices, and
then travelled back up to my other hole, wetting it. I was going wild;
I just love that feeling. He wet it a bit more and inserted a finger
carefully in my anus. I almost jumped. He was now working me over
really well. I clung on to his head as he kissed me; he worked on my
clit with one hand and slowly worked a finger in and out of my anus. I
wasn't long before I came in a violent shudder. I finally removed my
mouth from his as his finger slipped out of me. I was still shaking as
I whispered in his ear "fuck me". I don't usually use that word, but
it seemed the only appropriate one on this occasion.
He didn't say anything - as a matter of fact I never heard him say a
word - he just turned me around again facing the mirror. My face was
flushed, I had red blotches on my tits, and my hair looked like I had
just come in from the rain. I wanted him to grab my tits again, but
realised he was undoing his trousers. When his hands finally grabbed
my tits again I felt his penis straining against my bottom. I lifted
my hands over hid shoulders, folding them behind his head. I stood on
my toes so he could get between my legs, but he was so tall! He moved
my hands and bent me over, so I rested with my hands on the chair. I
spread my legs and stood on the tips of my toes, and finally I felt it
sliding past my anus and in between my legs, but still not
penetrating. I looked up in mirror. With his eyes closed he moved
back and forth sliding his penis against my wet lips. I looked between
my legs and saw its head poking at me. It was bent like a banana, with
quite a large blue head. I grabbed it with my hand and forced it
against me, as I also started to move against it. I looked in the
mirror again. He was obviously now also getting really excited. His
face was red and his hair dishevelled. I could just barely see Poul at
the entrance. I was wondering again what he thought of this, when I
felt his penis sliding into me. He had finally had enough of playing
around and soon we were going at full blast. I had to hold on to the
arms of the chair as he plunged into me harder and harder. I like
being taken from behind. I like my tits hanging free, bouncing with
each thrust. I often do it with Poul this way, also in front of a
mirror, as he loves watching my bouncing tits. I was well aware of him
looking at me now. It was just so erotic and exciting, doing it with
somebody else, right here in front of him. I know he has been dreaming
about experiencing this, because he had told me many times before.
With one hand the guy let go of my hips and when he found a dangling
tit and nipple to squeeze, I almost came. I thrust back against him as
hard as I could and soon felt him speeding up. He grabbed my hips
again with both hands so he could pull me harder against him. I
started to shake. I could so clearly feel his big mushroom head
pounding into me, and actually watching it in the mirror was just such
a turn-on. I had a hard time not letting out small yelps as I started
to come, but managed to bite my lips to stop it. I started an
uncontrollable shake as at just the right time, he slipped a wet finger
into my anus again. I was still shaking as he came inside me. A
couple of strong thrusts almost knocked over the chair, and he was
done. But my aftershocks were only just subsiding as he grabbed a tit
with his free hand, and moved me to an upright position, still with a
finger up my backside. As he squeezed my nipple hard and worked his
finger in and out of me, I came again in a small orgasm. Finally he
slipped the finger out and let go of me. I grabbed my tits myself
because I like playing with my orgasm-hardened nipples right after I
have come. I realised he must have been busy getting his trousers back
up, but when I looked up he was gone, and instead I saw Poul coming
in. I leant against him totally spent.
"Is this the dress you want?" he said as if nothing had happened.
"No," I said, "I think it is too provocative, you never know what might
happen, if I was to wear a thing like that."
He slipped out again, and this time I noticed he closed the curtains
completely. "Closing the barn door after the horse has bolted," came
to my mind as I got dressed again. I still looked like I had been in a
thunderstorm, and I could still feel sperm running out of me, but that
just kind of confirmed what had happened; I still really couldn't
believe it. I never saw see the guy again, and Poul never spoke about
it either. But he did manage to get me to go to the party with no
underwear - so maybe the experience had changed something for me after
all.
*****
Back to real life again. I just loved writing like this! It gets me
really excited. I wish I could jump into my stories and actually
experience them, and then jump out again if I felt bad about it.
Hope you like the story; I am off to bed now.
Hugs Jenny.
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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