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Subject: Cuckold and Cross Dressing Story - The Awakening
From: Doug the Donkey <dougdonkey@yahoo.com>
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Date: Fri, 25 Aug 2006 22:08:02 +0000
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===================
This is an original work of erotic fiction. It employs intense graphic
sexual descriptions and explicit sexual language, and is intended only
for an adult audience. If you are under 18 years of age, or are offended
by explicit sexual descriptions, then please do not read this story.
If you agree to and comply with these terms, then scroll down to begin
the story.
@Copyright 2006 by DougDonkey@Yahoo.com
Unlimited redistribution permitted, as long as this original author
copyright notice remains attached.
The Awakening
How my Cheating Wife Awakened my Secret Self.
Chapter One - Suspicions
I could sense that something was different; something was not quite right
between us. After two years of marriage, the newness of our relationship
had worn off, and the excitement of being together had turned into more
of an obligation. There was now a distant feeling, a gap that had
somehow grown noticeably greater just in the last few days.
Michele and I were both working long hours at our jobs, trying to stand
out as high performers, and hoping for quick career advancement. The
strain of this sustained effort took its toll on our relationship, and we
were most often too tired to do much more than say goodnight when it was
time for bed.
But all that changed for Michele. One night, not long ago, she came home
from work much later than usual. She didn't call, as she often did, to
say she was running late. The noticeable difference that night was her
energy level. Instead of dragging herself into the bathroom and then
flopping into bed, she almost flew through the house, with a smile on her
face and a spring in her step.
I got up from the couch and headed to bed, and I heard the shower
running. She usually just pees and puts on her cotton nightshirt before
crashing, but here she was, in the shower. I heard her say, "I'll just
be a minute. I just need to wash off a layer of this work stress." She
never showered before bed before, except when coming home from
volleyball. Why just tonight, then? Something was not quite right.
She bounced out of the shower in her robe, and went into her walk-in
closet, emerging in her cotton nightshirt. Things were looking more like
normal again. She went off to the kitchen for a glass of water before
bed. I was already in bed, but decided to take a quick leak before
sleep. I got up and went into the bathroom, which also contained the
tub/shower. I closed the door, lifted the seat, and started to pee. I
looked up and saw something that made me do a double-take. There was a
very sexy pair of panties and a sexy bra hanging from the hook on the
back of the door. "Whose were these?" I thought to myself.
Michele has never been very feminine when it comes to her underwear.
It's always been cotton full briefs and plain white cotton bras. I have
purchased a couple of sexy things for her to wear in the past, but she
was not excited by them in the least. She said that she wouldn't even
try them on, and that they would make her look cheap, and asked me to
return them. "What were you thinking about when you bought this?" she
had asked sarcastically. Clearly, I was thinking about sex. I guessed
that she just wasn't in the right mood for any romantic overtures.
Well, my attention was now on these items, hanging there, a foot from my
face. I saw a lacy white underwire bra, front hook, with push up pads.
Hanging in front of it was a pair of white silk panties with a lace trim.
I touched the bra, and felt the push up pad. Yes, it was not my
imagination; there it was, really there. I felt the silk on the panties,
and admired the high cut legs and their shiny texture. Then, my eye
caught a glimpse of something else.
I looked more closely at the crotch of the panty, where there was a
cotton shield sewn into the silky panty bottom. There was something
there, not quite the same color as the cotton, and it seemed to have some
sort of texture to it. I felt the crotch with my thumb, and it felt a
little wet and sticky. If I didn't know better, I would have thought
that it was a dab of cum. I gave it a sniff, and smelled a musky odor
that could have been just the residual perspiration from a long day of
wearing the panties, but I wasn't sure what this spot was all about. Was
she getting another yeast infection? I flinched at the thought of that,
since that would put yet another damper and time-out on our already too-
infrequent sex life.
I got back into bed, and debated whether or not to ask her about the
lingerie in the bathroom. She came back from the kitchen, now yawning
and dragging her feet, and flopped into bed. She was clearly showing me
that she was tired. When she does that, there is no room for
conversation, especially for conversation of a possible sexual nature. I
let it go for now as she pulled the covers over herself and rolled over,
away from me, mumbling "G'nite, honey". That was a clear signal to me to
leave her alone and let her get to sleep.
When I got up the next morning, I went to take a leak, and noticed that
the bra and panties were no longer hanging on the back of the bathroom
door. Sometime during the night, she must have remembered them, and
slipped out of bed to put them away. Or did I just imagine them there,
or see it in a dream? Who knows?
Nothing else unusual happened along these lines for the next week. I
made an effort to try and watch her undress after she got home from work.
She has always been a bit shy about that, and when she caught me looking
at her undressing, she shut the closet door tight and said, "I need my
privacy, you know." I saw only the outline of her regular cotton bra
under her top, and there were only her cotton panties in the hamper when
I did the wash later that week.
Chapter Two: The Suitcase
The next week, she had to go out of town on business. On the day she
left, I went to work at my regular time, while she stayed home and
finished packing, since she was headed directly to the airport from home.
We talked for a few minutes each night while she was gone, and everything
sounded all right. She had an evening flight back, but the connection
into Dallas was late. She made the plane for home just in time, but her
suitcase didn't make that last connection. When she got home, she said
that the airline would deliver her suitcase to the house tomorrow. We
went to right to bed and to sleep, both of us again tired from a long
day.
The next day, things at work went well for me, and I came home a little
early to catch up on chores. I wasn't expecting Michele home for at
least a couple of hours. After I parked the car in the garage, I saw
that next to the back door was her suitcase, where the airline had
dropped it off earlier that day.
I brought the suitcase in and set it on the bed. Something in my brain
rang a little bell, and my intuition said that I needed to see exactly
what was in this suitcase, based on the little incident with the lingerie
in the bathroom last week.
I opened the suitcase locks with the spare key, and popped the levers to
open the suitcase. Inside, there were her business suits, but under
them, there was something I hadn't seen before. It was a short, black
cocktail dress. I took it out and held it up, and couldn't believe my
eyes. The Michele that I know would never even consider wearing
something like this, not even to some high-class cocktail party. It was
very low cut, with a built-in bra and a flirty chiffon skirt. Next to it
in the suitcase were a pair of three inch black patent leather heels, and
inside one shoe was a pair of black pantyhose. It certainly looked like
she dressed up for some occasion that she didn't mention. She had never
dressed like that for me, though. It's almost always pantsuits. I can't
even get her to wear a skirt and heels when we go out, much less a sexy
short dress like this one.
I looked a bit further into the suitcase, and found three bra and panty
sets, all of them lacy and sexy. I'd never seen those before either, nor
had I ever seen her wear anything feminine and sexy like that. She has
always been comfortable in that boring cotton granny underwear of hers
that she has worn since before we were married. All three sets looked
like they had been worn. I imagined what she must have looked like
wearing them, and felt my tummy flip and my cock start to stiffen. But
the most surprising discovery was a cream-colored silk and lace teddy. I
looked at it closely, and the silk was wrinkled as if it had been slept
in. There was a sizable stain about mid-way down the front. If I didn't
know better, it looked as though there might have been some sex involved
with this teddy.
I felt confused and suspicious by these discoveries, but I knew that I
just needed to put things back like they were, re-lock the suitcase and
pretend like I had no knowledge of any of this possibly incriminating
evidence. So, I replaced the items, and left the locked suitcase on the
bed for her to unpack when she got home.
I figured that I would hang around the bedroom once she got home, and see
how she was going to handle the unpacking. When she got home an hour
later, she saw the suitcase on the bed, but she said that she was too
worn out from yesterday's trip and a long day today to feel like
unpacking tonight. She set the suitcase in the corner by the bed, and
got ready for sleep. I watched her through the gap in the partially
closed door to her walk-in closet, and saw that when she took off her
pantsuit, she had on the same old cotton underwear that she always wore.
So, something certainly was different about what was going on today
compared to what went on during her trip.
Chapter Three - The Stash
She slept late the next morning. I had to get to work, so I missed out
on the suitcase unpacking. That afternoon, she called me at work and
said she needed to stay an hour or two extra, and asked me to hold up
making dinner until she got home. I left work at my usual time, and got
home to find my curiosity still aroused by the suitcase contents.
I went to her walk-in closet and began poking around in the mess of
boxes, plastic storage bins and gym bags that were in there. She was an
athlete, and had several gym bags for her volleyball, running, softball,
tennis, etc. I looked in a few storage boxes with no success, and then
thought to look in a gym bag that I hadn't seen her use in a while. I
pulled it out from under a pile of folded sweat pants, and unzipped the
top. I lifted up the grey sweat pants that were on the very top of its
contents. What I uncovered was difficult to comprehend at first, but
then it hit me: here was her stash.
There were several sets of bras and panties all neatly folded on one side
of the bag. I pulled out a bra, and saw that it was a pink demi-cup
push-up that must have barely covered her nipples. The matching panties
were French cut, and were made of Lycra with a lace trim. Under this set
I had just removed was the white bra/panty set that I saw hanging on the
back of the bathroom door a week ago, judging by my recollection of its
color and style. Wow! I would have never thought that she would ever
own this sort of sexy lingerie. Of course, my suspicions were raised
even further now, since now I knew that she was clearly hiding this stuff
from me. I knew there must be a reason for this sort of deception, and
it must be about some wilder side of her that she was concealing.
The rest of the contents of the bag were along the same lines: two lacy
teddies (neither one was the cream color that I had seen in the suitcase
the day before) and several pairs of expensive pantyhose (Hanes Ultra
Sheer), still in their store boxes. Also in the bag was one pair of black
three inch heels with ankle straps, and the same black pumps I saw in the
suitcase the day before. No sign of the dress or lingerie from the
suitcase, though.
I opened a plastic keeper in the corner, removed a layer of bed sheets
lying on the top of its contents, and there I found the rest of it. I
saw the black dress, the black hose, the cream color teddy and three
bra/panty sets. This must be the dirty laundry stash. I'll bet she runs
this over to the cleaners or does some wash while I'm not around. Quite
a little plan she has going here, I thought. I put everything back in
its place and went to the kitchen to get a beer, and to sit and think
about what all of this might mean, and what to do next.
My jealous thoughts turned to spying on her. While she worked late at
least one day a week, she also played sports on other nights. I imagined
that her regular sports schedule would allow her time to do things other
than sports, if she chose to use it as a cover. Her regular volleyball
night was on Thursday, so I had an idea.
I'm a pretty sharp technical person with electronics, so I went out and
bought a miniature wireless microphone and a hand-held scanner. I tried
it out, and found, as I suspected, that the scanner's superior
sensitivity allowed me to hear the wireless microphone clearly at a range
of over a block. I thought that the two small hearing aid batteries
should power the microphone for at least one day's worth of monitoring.
I got up early on Thursday morning, and went to the kitchen to perform my
task. I took an Exacto knife, and carefully slit the lining of her
purse. I turned the microphone on, and inserted it into the gap in the
lining. I used a small piece of duct tape to hold it firmly in place,
and a piece of double faced carpet tape to close up the small slit that I
had made. My patch job was neat, and it was impossible to tell that the
purse had been tampered with. I turned on the scanner, and tested the
channel. It was working fine. The microphone was placed high enough in
the purse to pick up the slightest sound I made. I was ready to do some
spy work now.
Chapter Four - Spy Games
That afternoon, I came home from work as usual. I called her at work,
like I usually do. She said that volleyball was still on for tonight,
and that she would be going out for a beer or two afterwards, so don't
wait up. I told her to have fun, and that I was going to run to the
grocery store for a few things, then come home and watch some TV. She
said goodbye and we hung up. Then I got into action.
I drove to her work, and parked near her office building. I was still a
few blocks way, but close enough to where I could still see her car. I
waited until she came out. She walked to her car, got in, but did not
head toward the Rec Center, where the volleyball games were held.
Instead, she drove off in the opposite direction, leaving the office
complex and heading into a residential area.
I followed at some distance, and at one point lost sight of her. I
thought I saw her car turn into a side street several blocks up, and I
took a chance that it was her. I passed by the street and turned at the
next block. I pulled over and switched on the scanner. The signal was
strong, so I knew I was close by. Over the scanner, I heard her car door
slam, and I also heard the unusual sound (for her) of high heels clicking
on the concrete. Shrubbery had obscured my view of her office parking
lot. I couldn't see her closely as she left the office, so I didn't
notice if she had changed clothes there before leaving. I suspected that
she did, now.
She continued walking for another minute or so. I supposed that she
parked intentionally a distance away from her destination to avoid any
association if she were to be spotted by someone. Then I saw her, a
block away, walking up the same side of street that I was parked on now!
I panicked, and wondered what to do next. If she got much closer, she
might recognize my car, even though it was a common make and color. But
just then, she turned and walked up a driveway, towards the back of a
house at the far end of the block. I could see her clearly enough to
tell that she was NOT wearing what she wore to work today (an ugly brown
pantsuit), but instead was wearing something I hadn't seen on her before:
a short, tight black skirt, with a dark blouse and a suit jacket to match
the skirt. She also had on black hose and those strappy heels that I had
discovered earlier in the week..
I heard a door open and close, and heard a kiss, then another, then a
moan, almost like purring. He said that she looked great tonight, and
she replied that she didn't have a lot of time, so could he just pour
some wine and we'll sit. There was no conversation after that, and she
didn't say his name, so I had no clue as to who he was. There was
something that sounded like more kissing and some heavy breathing. Then
I heard them walk across what sounded like a wood floor and heard a door
squeak open. It was clear that she had carried her purse with her into
what I assumed was the bedroom, since the noise of their movements over
the wireless microphone was still loud and clear.
It sounded like they almost broke the bed when they fell onto it, and I
heard her start to moan and breath in heavy gasps. She said, "Oh, touch
me, touch me, baby!" and he replied, "I love it when you wear stockings
for me."
"That's not all I wore for you tonight," she responded. There were more
kissing and heavy breathing noises, combined with the rustling sounds of
clothes coming off. He must have been impressed by whatever she had on,
since he said next, "Oh, baby, you look so hot in that!" The bed creaked
a little more, and then he said "God, you're so wet!" She was breathing
hard now, and she said, in a breathless voice, "Fuck me, fuck me now!"
There was no more talking after that. The bed was creaking, and she was
moaning in a repetitive "Oh! Oh! Oh!", keeping time with his every
stroke. After about ten solid minutes of hearing his balls slap against
her pussy, I heard her begin that little grunting, mewing, choking sound
she makes when she comes. Then, she surprised the hell out of me by
vocalizing her orgasm. She never has said a word with me, just a few
grunts and she was done. But with this guy, she was uninhibited and
cried out over and over again, "Oh, Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me! Oh, God!
Oh, God! Oh, God! You're so big in me! You're so big! Oh, God! Oh,
God!"
I was flushed, and I found myself with a stiff cock in my pants from
listening to my otherwise not very sensual wife lose herself to this
guy's cock. I was breathing hard and a little dizzy, and I had what I
think was a panic attack. I shut off the scanner, started the car, and
drove home, shaking from the shock.
Chapter Five - The Evidence
I got home somehow without getting into a traffic accident. I went to
the bar, got a lowball glass and poured about three fingers of Jack
Daniels. I sat in my chair, stunned. I sipped the bourbon, and wondered
what to do when she came home. Unable to cope with this any more, I just
went into the bedroom, got out of my clothes and went to bed.
I was awakened some time later by her arrival at home. She was trying to
be quiet, but I was a light sleeper. She entered the bedroom, wearing her
volleyball uniform and carrying her gym bag. Obviously part of the
deception, I thought to myself. I stirred and sat up when she turned on
the closet light. I asked, "How was volleyball?" She replied, as if
well rehearsed, "Oh, we lost, and we went out for a beer afterwards. I
need a shower." She put the gym bag away and went into the bathroom. I
watched the door close, then heard the water start. I jumped out of bed,
and went to the closet. Her gym bag was there, near the rear of the
closet, beneath her shoe shelves. I pulled the bag out and undid the
zipper.
Her brown pantsuit was on top in the bag. I removed it, and there was
the black skirt, blouse and jacket that I saw her wearing on the street.
I pushed that aside, and underneath it I discovered a long black bustier,
complete with garters. It was a front zip, with stays all around and
underwire push-up bra cups. I picked it up, and immediately smelled the
perspiration from it. My hand went inside it, and I could feel the
dampness in the fabric from her sweat. She must have gotten quite a
workout, judging by how wet and smelly it was. Then I saw the black
nylon stockings. I remembered her lover commenting about the stockings,
and I guess the bustier was her little surprise for him. The black
stockings were made of very sheer nylon, and I noticed some darkness
around the thicker stocking tops where the garters attached. I felt the
dark area, and it was wet and sticky. I brought it up to my nose, and
recognized the unmistakable smell of a man's cum. His juices must have
run down her legs and onto the stocking tops.
Here I sat, in her closet, stunned, confronted by the undeniable physical
evidence of her infidelity. I quickly regained my senses, realizing that
she would be out of the shower very soon. I carefully put the items back
in the bag, placed it back under the shoe shelf, and exited the closet.
I just got back under the covers when I heard the water shut off.
I tried hard to get my pulse and respiration back to normal before she
came out of the bathroom. Thank goodness that only the closet light was
on, and not a bed lamp, or my flushed condition might have given me away.
Anyway, she opened the bathroom door and walked back into her closet
wearing a towel. She changed into her cotton nightshirt, turned out the
closet light and climbed into bed.
"Long day, good night, honey," she whispered as she rolled over and
fluffed her pillow for sleep. I pretended to be asleep and said nothing
in reply.
I felt sorry for myself. We hadn't had sex in two months, and when we
did, it wasn't all that good. She wasn't much into foreplay, so she
never really allowed herself to get her motor going. She wouldn't let me
eat her (she said that was nasty) and wouldn't let me pet her and finger
her until she was wet. Instead, she had me use lubricated condoms (I
guess because she never did get very wet) and then just sort of laid
there and allowed me to pump her until I came. The last few times, I
even had to fake that, since it just wasn't working for me either. Yet,
I had heard this same woman, not three hours ago, slamming her pussy up
against a pair of pounding balls, and crying out with a crushing orgasm.
Where had we gone wrong? What have I failed to do to keep her? My
overloaded brain forced me into a fitful night's sleep.
Chapter Six - The Awakening
The next morning, it was as if nothing unusual had happened. I showered,
dressed and left for work, leaving her still in bed. I was lucky to have
another easy day at work, because I was totally distracted by the events
of last night. When she called in mid-afternoon to say she would be
working late again, I just said OK and see you later, like some sort of
zombie. I left work early, since I was so distracted by the recent
events that I wasn't getting anything done, and headed for home.
I got in the door, poured myself a drink, and sat down. After a few
minutes, my curiosity got going again. I was wondering what she did with
last night's clothes, and if there was any other evidence that I had yet
to discover.
I headed to the closet, now more confident in what I might find there. I
looked for the gym bag under the pile of sweats, and, yes, it was still
there. I got it out, and opened it up. Inside, I found both pairs of
high heels, and all of the lacy underwear that I had previously seen.
All three teddies were now in there as well, so it looked as if she had
time to do her wash since her trip. I looked up at her rack of suits,
and pawed through her dry cleaning bagged items. There, carefully tucked
under a raincoat, was the little black dress, now cleaned and hung up.
The short black skirt and coat she wore last night was also hung up
there, mixed in with her other work clothes. Since all of the items
seemed to be accounted for, I was assuming that tonight she really was
working late tonight, and not off somewhere with him.
I poked around a bit more, but did not find any other hiding places or
unusual items. Finally, I turned toward the plastic storage keeper,
where I knew her soiled clothes were hidden. I pulled it out, took a big
breath and let out a sigh. I popped the cover and removed the bed sheets
from the top of the pile again. There it was, the black bustier that I
saw briefly last night when she got home. Next to it were the black
nylon stockings as well. I took the bustier and stockings out, and
brought them onto the bed, where I could see them better in the light
from the window.
I examined the bustier, taking my time now, since Michele wasn't due home
for several hours. It still smelled strongly of perspiration, and it was
still damp on the inside. On the outside, in front, a few inches from
the bottom, there was a large dark area. I felt it, and smelled it, and
I knew at once that it was a cum stain. Up near the space right between
the bra cups, there was yet another spot, and it, too, was easily
identified as another cum stain. That bitch! She would never, ever let
me cum on her when we made love! She said it was gross and nasty. Now,
here was the proof that she not only permitted it, but must have
encouraged it.
I looked next at the stockings, and spread them out across the bedspread.
I could see the drip lines down the stockings, how his cum must have run
down her legs as she stood up to take off the stockings and bustier. I
had a sudden flash, and I went back in her closet to the hamper. Her
volleyball uniform was there near the top, and right under it was a Lycra
sports brief that she usually wore under the tight fitting volleyball
shorts to firm up her tummy a little and look good in the shorts. I
lifted the sports brief up and out of the hamper, and returned to the
bed.
In the strong sunlight, I could see what I had feared I would find. In
the crotch of the brief, which she wore home as a part of her volleyball
uniform disguise after her tryst, was a large, sticky mass of cum.
Judging by the amount, the guy must have pumped her full of his seed more
than once, and then it flowed out as she was driving home. I guess she
didn't think to hide this brief, since she probably figured that any
wetness might have dried up long before wash day, which was several days
away.
Looking at this cum-strewn mess, I found myself getting very aroused. I
have always been interested in women's underwear. I follow the sales
circulars in the Sunday paper to see the newest styles. I find myself
sneaking a peek at a bra when a blouse is gapping open at the buttons. I
look at visible outlines of bras and panties through clothes and try to
guess at the style and brand. I sometimes cruise through the lingerie
section of a big department store and touch the fine fabric of lacy bras
and panties. In short, I have always had a "thing" for lingerie. And
now, I was looking down at a provocative bustier and the matching
stockings that clearly had been involved in a recent, very strong sexual
encounter. I touched my hard cock through the fabric of my pants, and I
felt a rush of hormones flood through my blood. What came over me next
is something that I can't explain, but something that I suppose made
sense, given these energy-charged circumstances, my extended period of
Michele-imposed celibacy, and my fondness for fine lingerie.
I found myself getting out of my clothes, and standing next to the bed,
naked. I need to add that Michele was a rather large and big-boned
woman, and in many ways about the same size as me. I took the bustier
and wrapped it around my chest. I started the zipper at the bottom,
sucked in my tummy and chest, and pulled it up tight. I could feel the
stays in the bustier holding tightly to my sides, chest and tummy. I
could feel a little clammy chill from the dampness still inside the
garment, and I could smell the strong, musky odor of her sweat (and his
cum, I suppose) rising from the fabric.
Then, I sat down on the bed, and took up a stocking. Having had some
experience with stockings and garters from previous girlfriends before I
was married, I knew how to roll up the stocking until I could just get my
toes into it, and then gently roll it all the way up my leg and thigh.
It fit surprisingly well. After doing the same with the other stocking,
I stood up, bent over as much as I could, and attached the garters. My
cock at this point was made out of wood and standing straight up.
To complete the effect, I picked up the sports brief, bent over to slip
it over my stocking-covered feet (not an easy thing to do in the bustier)
and stepped into it. I pulled it up over the stockings, all the way up
tight to my waist, and I could feel the wetness of his cum on the bottom
of my balls.
I fell back onto the bed, on my back. I pushed the sports brief to one
side and extracted my hard cock. All I could imagine at that point was
how she must have felt, with him mounted on her, deep in her, pumping her
pussy and slapping his groin into her hot clit. In my mind, I could hear
her crying out again, saying, "Oh! Oh! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!" I had
my cock firmly in my hands now, and I was stroking it like the madman I
was. The sensory overload from the bustier and its stays, the nylon
stockings, the Lycra panty and the wet cum at the base of my balls drove
me into a frenzy. I was breathing hard, getting dizzy. Then I exploded
into my hand, and the cum shot out and over, onto the stockings. It was
by far the most powerful orgasm that I had ever experienced up to that
point in my life. I felt completely spent, and I just lay there, with my
cum-covered hands still gripping my cock.
I came back to reality eventually, and looked over what I had just done.
Instead of feeling guilty about wearing her clothes and using her
infidelity as a stimulant, I felt like it was a payback for what she had
done to me, and I deserved the pleasure I got from it. I got up, went to
the sink, and began to clean up after myself. I took off the sports
brief, then the stockings, and then unzipped the bustier. I gathered it
all up and replaced it back in the plastic storage container where it
belonged, except for the sports brief, which I returned to its place the
hamper. Then, I took a long, hot shower and scrubbed myself all over in
an attempt to cleanse myself of the pain of her cheating and her/his
scent of sex.
Chapter Seven - Observation Post
Afterwards, I decided that I needed to learn more about what was going
on, including the guy's name and the true extent of their relationship.
I bought a telephone call recording device that activated the recorder
every time the phone was off the hook. I also found the radio frequency
for our cordless phone, so I could monitor her conversations in real time
using my scanner. With this equipment in place, I was now ready to find
out what I needed to know.
There were a few short calls, nothing of any substance, during the
following week. I found out that he had a wife, so Michele couldn't call
him and he could only call when he knew, from her intelligence info, when
I wasn't home. Apparently, their last encounter was at his house when
his wife was out of town. They weren't comfortable with just getting a
room on the other side of town as an alternate location. That thought
gave me an idea.
I inspected our house layout, and found that the storage closet in the
back hall that backed up to the master bedroom could be turned into an
excellent observation post with just a little handiwork. Since I was
also competent in general home repair, it was not difficult for me to
carefully remove a small section of the drywall in the storage closet,
then locate a spot on the corresponding bedroom wall to create a small,
hardly noticeable hole using the wallpaper pattern as camouflage. I
tested my modification, and found that I could see clearly all the way
from the vanity to the bed and a bit beyond. The hole was in the
shadows, sandwiched between two shelves of a large entertainment center
that held the bedroom TV and stereo, plus a lot of miscellaneous
decorating objects and mementos. Within the closet, I moved things
around a bit to make a space big enough to sit comfortably on some of the
storage containers. My observation post was ready, so now it was time to
start things into action.
When Michele came home that night , I announced that I had to go out of
town next Wednesday for a short technical seminar. It was for two days,
with an overnight stay. She said that the seminar sounded interesting,
and hoped that I would have fun. I secretly hoped that she was thinking
about her own fun instead.
Sure enough, on their next phone call, Jim (I now knew at least a first
name) was told about my upcoming trip, and he jumped at the chance to
come over and keep her company in my absence. They began to make their
plans. While there were several calls over the next few days, it was a
little hard to figure out their plan. I could almost follow the flow of
their communication, but it was clear from the large gaps in information
over the phone that they saw each other every day, most likely at work,
where the real details were being worked out.
He did confirm that he was successful in getting a kitchen pass for next
Wednesday night, and that he was excited about coming to her house and
spending some extended quality time with her. He asked a couple of times
if she was able to find any of the things he wanted, and she told him
yes, but it would be a surprise, so she wouldn't disclose any more
details. I wondered what that was all about, but I supposed I was going
to find out soon enough.
I had placed some small tell-tales on the gym bag and plastic storage
keeper, but neither was disturbed. This could only mean that they had
not had a chance to get together since the last meeting, so they must
have both been anxious, horny and ready for more. I requested the two
days off to go to the seminar on my own time, and prepared a small travel
bag to take on my "trip". It was now early Wednesday morning, and I
headed out for the drive to the seminar, about five hours away. I woke
her and gave her a kiss goodbye on the cheek, and told her I would see
her Thursday night. She wished me a safe trip and went back to sleep.
Instead, I found a donut shop, got some coffee and rolls, then found a
good safe spot on her way to work to stake out and watch for her passing
car. Right on schedule, I saw her drive past, and I felt the plan was
now in motion. I called her at work around mid-morning, and let her know
that I arrived safely and was about to go into the first seminar session.
This news should have put her mind at ease, and it did. I then went
back to the house, and got set up for what was to come. I knew they had
planned for an afternoon rendezvous, so they could spend more than just
the evening with each other. He was to park a few blocks from our home,
in a nearby strip mall, and she was to drive by and pick him up. He
would duck down below the dashboard so no one would notice a passenger in
the car and possibly say something to me later. Their plan was to meet
at 1 PM. It was now nearly noon. I had also parked my car several
blocks away and walked home. I was in some comfortable clothes, and was
well-hidden inside the storage closet, which was near the back door,
which would allow for my silent escape afterwards. I had a drink of
water available in case things went long, and I had just gone to the
bathroom. I was ready.
Chapter Eight - Prepping for an Afternooner
About 12:10 PM, I heard the garage door open, and her car pull in. She
was early for some reason. The car door shut, and I heard the kitchen
door open and close. I heard her walk through the living room, on her
way to the bedroom. I spotted her at once, and she was carrying a large
shopping bag and a dress on a hanger. I put two and two together and
assumed that she was going to change out of her boring, shapeless
pantsuit and dress up for him again. She went to her closet and came out
naked to the shower. I heard the water start, and it ran for a few
minutes before it ended. She must have wanted to freshen up for their
afternoon. After drying off and drying her hair, she did something I had
never seen her do before. She sat down on her vanity chair and applied
her makeup. Normally, she wore no makeup, not even lipstick, to work or
in general. Now, here she was applying mascara, eye shadow, foundation,
blush and lipstick, not for me, but for this Jim fellow. I was upset by
this, but understood where her brain was at.
Next she walked over to the bed and took some items out of the large bag.
The first item made my eyes pop out. It was a white, high-waisted, long-
leg panty girdle. It had a side zipper and looked like it was pretty
heavy duty and firm control. The amazing thing about this was that she
has never worn a control foundation before (she said it was old-fashioned
and dated), and even expressed her dislike of the sport brief she wore
under her volleyball shorts. Clearly this was Jim's idea, his fantasy,
and she was going to satisfy it regardless of her preference. She
kneeled over and stepped into it, struggling to pull it over her backside
and all the way up to her waist. She grasped the zipper firmly, let out
a big breath, and pulled it up. It really fit tightly, and she now had
something of a waist curve where her big-boned body had previously been
fairly straight up and down.
She gave out a "Whew!", and reached into the bag again. She pulled out a
stocking package and opened it. She took out a pair of white thigh high
stockings, and rolled one onto her foot and pulled it up. She folded the
long leg of the panty girdle up and back, and finished pulling the
stocking all the way up her thigh. Then she rolled the panty girdle leg
back down over the stocking top to hold it on place. She did the same
with the other leg, and she was now partly dressed. Next out of the bag
was a lacy, long line strapless bra. She sat down on the bed, leaned
forward, placed her breasts into it, then reached around back and started
doing up the several hooks in back. It took her a minute or so to
complete this task, and then she laid back on the bed to rest a minute.
It was about 12:30 now, as she glanced at the clock on the night stand.
She lay there for another minute, then cupped her breasts and felt along
the smooth, curvy front that the combination of the long line bra and
tight girdle had made. Then, her hands wandered down to her crotch. She
fiddled there for a few seconds, fingering herself, and I could see (what
a view I had!) that the girdle had a split crotch, with two overlapping
flaps that could be opened by hand. I suppose that was to allow the
woman to pee without the chore of undressing. Anyway, she kept on
fingering herself through the opening, and let out a little moan.
Suddenly, she stopped and stood up, then kneeled over her side of the bed
and reached underneath. She took out a plastic storage box, opened it,
and pushed aside some winter clothes that were on top. She took out a
long, medium thickness chrome vibrator and a tube of what looked like K-Y
jelly. She put a little lubricant on the vibrator tip, laid back down on
the bed, and turned it on. I could hear the gentle humming as she worked
it around the outside of her vagina, then slid it in. Clearly the crotch
opening was big enough to allow a vibrator, or a hard cock, to penetrate
her. I suppose this was a trial run, a little warm up. She worked it in
and out for a few more seconds, then withdrew it and sat up. She was
flushed and her breath was a little heavy. Using a tissue from the night
stand, she wiped off the vibrator and put it back under the bed. I made
a mental note to check out this new stash location later.
Now, she grabbed the dress bag and took the dress off of the hanger. It
was a white coatdress, linen, with red buttons all the way up and down
the front, and a wide red belt. She took off the tags, unbuttoned it and
slipped it on. She started buttoning it up, leaving quite a few buttons
at the top and bottom undone. Then she buckled the belt, and I could see
the probable reason for the high waist girdle. The tightened belt gave
the dress its curvy shape, and Michele now had the waist curve required
to make it look like it fit properly. She added some white two inch
heels that she never wore from the closet, and her outfit was complete.
I had to admit that she did look more feminine than I had ever seen her
look before.
Chapter Nine - Witness to a Crime
She walked out of the room and out the kitchen door. I heard the garage
door and the car again, and checked my watch. It was almost 1 PM. I
slipped off for another quick bathroom break, just to be sure I could
last for a while without getting uncomfortable. Then I settled back into
my spot, and waited. The garage door started moving again, and I heard
the car again, then silence. The kitchen door opened, and they were
inside. There was some small talk about "Nice house" and "Want some
wine?" It was pretty quiet, and I guessed they had made it to the couch.
I heard some intermittent kissing, then a moan or two from Michele. I
heard her say, "It's so big!" I guessed that she was on her knees,
giving him a blow job. In the three years we had been together, she had
taken my cock into her mouth only a few times, and then only at my
persistent urging. She said that she didn't like the whole idea of
putting anything like that in her mouth, but then again, she also didn't
like me to give her oral sex either, so I guess it was a mouth thing for
her. Anyway, my suspicion was confirmed when I heard Jim call out, "Oh,
baby,! That feels so good, baby! Your tongue is so good to me!" I was
worried that they would never make it to the bedroom, but Jim must have
been ready for more. I heard them get up, kiss, then walk across the
living room to the bedroom hallway. They came into view, and I saw him
with his arms around her waist, then touching her sides and her breasts
through the dress fabric.
He asked, "What's that you have on under there, baby?" She replied,
"It's your surprise. Unbutton me!" He started at the bottom, and worked
his way up. He saw the stocking tops and the panty girdle bottom, then
the high waist of the girdle and then the strapless long line bra. She
slipped the unbuttoned dress off, and it fell to the floor. He seemed to
be in a trance, feeling her all over, shaping her slimmed waist, and
cupping her breasts through the bra. Then he held her close and tight,
crushing her breasts into his chest. They locked in a passionate kiss,
their mouths wide open and exchanging tongues. Her hand went down, and
felt his hard cock through his pants. "Oh, baby, you're ready for me!"
she moaned in a low, gravelly voice. He reciprocated, putting his hand
between her legs and parting the spilt crotch, slipping his fingers into
her. She gasped a little, then relaxed. He said softly, "Baby, you're
so wet and ready that I need you right now!"
She fell back on the bed, and he was out of his clothes in a few seconds.
As he removed his shorts, I could see why she was so taken by him. He
was hard, of course, but also he was about three inches longer than me,
and about as thick. Now, I'm an average size guy, but I have never had
any trouble satisfying a woman before. But he really had a big woody,
and I was about to watch him put it in her. I was excited and hard
myself, but I kept still to avoid making any noise.
She was on her back, and she raised up her legs and offered herself to
him. He took his cock in his hand, and guided it through the maze of the
split crotch of the girdle. Once through, he slowly pushed himself in
all the way to the base of his cock, and she cried out, "Oh, God, you're
deep in me!" That started him stroking, faster and faster. After only
about 60 seconds, she started her little grunt and moan thing, and then
cramped up, sitting up to grasp him in an intense orgasm. She stayed
cramped for about ten seconds, then fell back to the bed and collapsed.
He seemed upset. "I'm nowhere near done yet!" he said in a loud and
arrogant voice. "On your hands and knees, bitch, right now!" he yelled
out at her. She looked surprised at his attitude, and she just laid
there and looked at him. He took her by the shoulders and rolled her
over, then grabbed her waist and pulled her up to a kneeling position.
She looked back at him over her shoulder, and he was there, grabbing his
hard cock and aiming for her cunt. He worked the head through the girdle
opening again, then grabbed onto the top of the girdle and pulled her
back onto him. She cried out, maybe in pain, and stuck her head down
into the bed. He grabbed her by the bottom of the sides of her bra and
pounded her for what seemed to be a long time (boy, could this guy last
or what?), and she came again, this time screaming out at the top of her
lungs, "Oh yes! Oh yes! Oh yes! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me! Oh, God! Oh,
God! I'm cumming! I'm grrrrrrrrr aaahhhhhhh!"
She collapsed, stretching out her legs and laying flat on her tummy,
panting hard and squirming. He said in a demanding voice, "I'm still not
done with you yet, bitch! Roll over!" She just laid there, panting hard
and looking back at him. Her eyes looked glazed over. He took her by
the thigh and rolled her onto her side. He lifted one leg high in the
air, flipped it over his shoulder, and got himself close up behind her.
He sat on the other leg, straddling her and holding her wide open. She
protested his action, pleading, "No! No more! I need a break! Stop!
Oh, God, I can't take any more! Please, oh please, no!"
He was still fully aroused, and was not going to take no for an answer.
He guided his cock into her one more time, and, holding her legs spread
wide open with one arm, he entered her deeply and started pounding away
again. She cried out, "No, no, please, no, please, no, stop, no please
stop! Too deep! Too deep! Ow! Ow! You're hurting me! It hurts! It
hurts!" He just kept slamming her, holding her open for maximum
penetration. This went on and on, for several minutes. She eventually
stopped crying out for him to stop, and started to get back into it. She
began a low moan, and then came again in a loud, grunting orgasm that
sounded almost animal-like. He also grunted a few times, and then
stopped moving and held his cock in her, deep, all the way in. I
supposed he was shooting his load deep into her now, since I could see
him holding still, but his hips and tummy were twitching in a spasmodic
rhythm. He reached behind his balls and began to masturbate the spot
right behind them, just in front of his asshole. I had heard that this
technique stimulated the prostate, and made a guy just cum and cum and
cum. He kept cramping up over and over again, and I could see white
cream start to flow down over Michele's exposed crotch. Eventually his
spasms stopped.
He pulled out of her, and lay down beside her. After a minute, he
reached over and touched her breast and then her face. She reacted, but
not like he expected. She yelled, "You bastard! You selfish pig! You
hurt me! I told you to stop! I told you that you were hurting me! Get
out! Get out of here now! Don't touch me!" He tried to speak, but she
wouldn't hear of it. She got up, ran to the bathroom, and slammed and
locked the door. He figured things were done, so he put on his clothes.
He called out, "I'm going!" with no response from her, and he left. I
suppose he walked back to his car.
She came out of the bathroom in a few minutes. She sat on the bed, undid
the bra, rolled the stockings off, unzipped the girdle and tugged at it
until it fell away. She curled up in a ball and hugged a pillow, and was
asleep in a minute. I watched to make sure she was sound asleep, then
quietly slipped out the back door. I then drove to a nearby motel and
got a room for the night, since I was supposed to be out of town.
I called her that evening and asked if everything was OK, and she said
yes. She sounded tired, and a little depressed. I wished her a good
night and hung up the phone. I fell asleep early that night, since with
all of the excitement, I was worn out.
Chapter Ten - The Morning After
The next morning, I woke up, showered and dressed, then checked out. I
grabbed breakfast and headed for her work. It was about nine in the
morning, and her car was in its usual spot, which means she was probably
safe at work for the day. I left for the house, intent on checking up on
the phone recordings.
I got home, and went to where I had hidden the recorder. There was
something on the tape, and I rewound it and hit play. He was talking to
her, telling her how much he had enjoyed their afternoon. She was harsh
in reply, and told him that she didn't enjoy it at all. He argued with
her, reminding her that she had multiple, strong orgasms and seemed very
satisfied. She yelled back that he was a selfish bastard, and they she
was still hurting and in pain from his attack. "What attack? he replied.
"I told you to stop! I told you that you were hurting me! You just kept
on hurting me, and that's rape, buster!" He tried to calm her down, but
she kept on ranting at him. "I never want to see you again, you pig, you
bastard, you rapist!" Then she hung up on him. There were no other
calls.
I felt a little sorry for her, since I did agree that he did treat her
roughly, but she was playing with fire and wound up getting burned. I
replaced the recorder, and headed to the bedroom. My first stop was to
check out the stash under the bed. I dug underneath, and found the box
she had pulled out the day before. Inside, under the winter clothes,
were a small, thin white vibrator, a larger soft plastic dildo, and the
long silver vibrator I saw her with yesterday. The tube of K-Y was there,
about half used, so I figured out that this is what she must have been
doing for sex, once she cut me off from herself.
I went next into the closet, and found that the tell-tale I had placed
on the plastic storage box was disturbed. I pulled the box out, and
looked inside. There, under the bed sheets, was the white linen dress.
I pulled it out and saw the bra, girdle and stockings on the container
bottom.. I took them out and brought them back to the bed, where the
light was better. The foam bra cups and the places under the armpits
were still damp from the sweat of her sex. I could smell the
perspiration, and knew from an eyewitness perspective that she had
gotten a hard workout from this guy, Jim. Next, I inspected the girdle.
It, too, smelled of perspiration. I turned it partially inside out, and
took a look at the split crotch area. It was plastered with cum! It was
even still sticky! He must have given her a huge load when he stimulated
himself as he came. The folds of the split crotch must have held it all
inside the girdle when it leaked out of her as she ran to the bathroom.
I started to feel a little anxious and panicky next. I was breathing
heavily, and my cock was stiff with excitement. It was as if I was
somehow out of my body, watching myself. The feeling form the other day
was coming over me again: a feeling of need, of desire to be something I
wished I could be. I was in some sort of trance state, and I saw myself
take off my clothes and start to pull on the girdle. I was acting out,
repeating her command performance in my mind. I pulled the girdle up
over my butt and snugged it up around my thighs. I gave it a final tug,
and pulled the zipper up. Boy, was this a tight fit! I felt around in
the split crotch, and released my cock and balls through the hole. They
dangled free below the girdle, and I could feel his wet cum press against
my crotch behind my balls. I rolled the stockings on and tucked them
under the girdle legs as I saw her do. Then, I placed the bra backwards
around me, and did the hooks. Then I spun it around on me, and centered
it on my front and tummy. I felt so tightly bound, I could hardly
breathe.
I walked back into the closet and picked up the dress. This was the
first time I had ever gone this far in play acting a role like this. I
slipped into the arm holes and wrapped the dress around me. I did up the
buttons, buckled the belt, and walked back out to the bedroom. I started
feeling myself through the dress, like he did to her. I watched myself in
the mirror, and imagined being ravished. My hands felt the stiffness of
the bra stays. The curve of my waist was molded by the tight, high
waist control top of the girdle. I felt the smoothness of my butt, and
the silkiness of my legs in the stockings against the linen dress. I
caressed my crotch through the dress, and then pulled up the hem of the
dress and touched my stiff cock. I stroked it a few times, then I
unbuttoned the dress, imagining that it was him doing it. The dress fell
away, onto the floor. I fell back on the bed, raised up my knees, and
started stroking my cock and moving my hips in a rhythm. I was getting
really excited, really into the role I was playing. I imagined him in
me, deep in me, pounding away at my pussy. Then, I turned over on my
hands and knees and raised my butt up in the air, just like she did. I
imagined that I was getting hammered from behind, and I moved back and
forth in a rhythm while I pressed and masturbated the prostate "hot
spot" just behind my balls. I was approaching a really intense orgasm.
I rolled over onto my side, again like he forced her to do, and I saw
the silver vibrator that I had left there on the bed. I grasped it, and
turned the base to start it up. I raise one leg up in the air, spreading
myself wide, ready for the imagined deep penetration. I touched the end
of the vibrator to the tip of my cock. The effect was like an electric
shock, flowing all through my body! I could feel an intense fullness in
my abdomen, and my breath started to come short and shallow.
Then, I moved the vibrator to the opening in the girdle bottom. I
started to probe the entrance to my asshole, and found that there was so
much of Jim's cum still in the girdle that it was making the vibrator tip
wet and slippery. Some of the cum had even made its way to around my
asshole. I decided it was now or never, so I pushed the vibrator up and
in. I felt it penetrate me, and then I knew just how she must have felt
with his cock in her. I moved the vibrator in and out a little, then
more and more until I was stroking it in and out, in and out. I could
feel my tummy cramping and my balls contracting. I felt the prickly
release of the hormones flow like a river over me. I came hard, pulsing
my hips over and over again, just like what Jim did when he was filling
her with his cum. I pulled out the vibrator and it rolled away, still
humming. I laid there for a few minutes, catching my breath and trying
to clear my head. I looked down, and there was a large amount of cum
covering my hand and cock. I had come back down now, from the high of
the orgasm and the excitement of the fantasy, and felt it was time to
move on.
I went to the sink and got myself cleaned up, then went back to the bed
and removed my costume. I carefully placed the lingerie and dress back
where I found them, and put the toy box back under the bed. Wow! I was
still shaking a bit from all that, but I felt really satisfied. She had
cheated on me with him, and so I felt that violating her privacy, wearing
her clothes and acting out her sex scene was justified as compensation
for the wrong done to me.
That night, she came home and I was there, waiting. I told her that the
last conference session was cancelled, so I came home early. I made us a
nice dinner, and she was friendly, but distant. I wanted so much to talk
to her about what had happened to her, what had happened with me, and how
I would have never hurt her the way that he did. But, it had to remain
my secret, since I knew that if she found out that I had spied on her,
worn her clothes, and used her vibrator, that she would order me out of
the house and never let me back in again. We got ready for bed, and I
offered to give her back rub, but she turned me down, begging off and
saying she was just too tired to stay awake much longer. I watched her
fall asleep quickly, then I, too, went off to sleep, but I didn't recall
dreaming.
Over the next weeks and months, there was no activity in the closet. I
checked from time to time, and everything was still in its place and
undisturbed. The toy box under the bed seemed to be getting some use,
but that was understandable, considering she dumped her new lover, but
still didn't want me, even though I made several attempts at romantic
overtures. We were in some sort of sexual limbo, a place where nothing
was happening and there was nothing I could do to change that condition.
I knew that sooner or later there would be some sort of break-out, so I
kept a close watch and waited for a change in the weather.
To be continued..