Second Chance by © Joyce Hamilton ff FF humil

I had profited from my husband's usual Sunday morning golf to have a lay-in, 
a long bath, and then finished my  letter to my mother. I sealed it, wrote the 
address on the envelope and looked in my purse for a stamp. No luck. I knew 
Lenny would have some, and went up to our spare bedroom, now his office. 
His wallet was beside his laptop. Yes, stamps. I was replacing the book when a 
scrap of paper fell out. I picked it up and turned it over. It was a 
photograph...well worn round the edges from being in his wallet for some 
time.

The woman was blonde. Emerald green satin basque....no, a waspie really....., 
black stockings,  black high heeled slippers. She was posed side on....so you 
couldn't tell if she was a natural blonde. What was she holding? A whip! I 
looked more closely at it, and turned it over. The pencil marks  were nearly 
faded out, but I could see a phone number and her name, Irma.

I was quite calm really....after all most men will go for a bit of variety after 
six....no five...years of marriage. And I'd considered it myself.......I'd married 
too young. Should have played the field a bit first. Well, now I might do a bit 
more than just consider. The bastard!......But a whip?

I looked again at the photo. She had a good figure....rangy and muscular. You 
could tell she worked out. I let my negligee slip to the floor, and looked at 
myself in the wardrobe mirror. I took up the same pose. My figure was 
different, but just as good I thought. Perhaps he was into the leggy, teenage 
type.  I pulled my belly in...but it still had a slightly rounded curve. And my 
legs were plumper....not dumpy...but more feminine. Good arse....hers a bit 
stringy. And my tits. I'm proud of them....enough cleavage for him to fuck me 
between them . Full, rounded, shapely. Hers were odd. Sharp and hard. 
Conical almost....like Madonna when she wore that funny bra....but no bra. I'd 
only ever known one woman with breasts like that. Woman? Girl really, 
though she had been three years older than me.

Suddenly I felt hot, and my heart beat. I picked up his magnifying glass and 
looked again at the photo through it. It could be! It was!

I sank down in his big office chair, heart beating strong now. It was her. My 
mind went back ten years to the summer camp. I was in my bunk, the early 
morning sun streaming in through the open window. She had stripped off her 
pyjamas and slipped into my warm sheets. Was it her cold body pressed 
against mine, or her hot lips on mine that woke me? As I remembered all those 
years ago, my hand slipped down into my panties, and I felt the moist 
slipperiness. I swivelled the chair clear of the desk, and saw in the mirror my 
hand behind the transparant red nylon, my fingers entering my cunt, my thumb 
pressing and rubbing my clit. Her tits were hard even then. Pointed. As we 
kissed and hugged each other, her breasts pressed into mine, which , fuller and 
softer, gave way to them. My right hand working at my pleasure, I felt a nipple 
with my left. It was hard, hard as a little brown nut. I touched the other one, 
and it too sprang to attention.

I remember her body. Long adolescent legs, and a slim, almost boyish bottom. 
As we lay together I squeezed and kneaded her flesh. Her lips on  my breasts 
now, and her hands feeling my bottom and thighs. Our bellies tight against 
each other. Suddenly her leg prised between mine. And out two hot little cunts 
meeting, swollen lips to swollen lips. She sighed, and muttered in my ear how 
she had wanted this. Her clitoris was pressed against mine and as we moved 
they rubbed together, sliding in our mingled moistness.   We wriggled, panted, 
writhed, and then she slipped from my grasp her lips feathering down my 
body, over my belly, her tongue briefly penetrating my navel, and then down 
to those other lips.

I now knew what it was to be awoken with a kiss. As she planted her lips 
against my clit my excitement boiled over. Scarcely had she flicked at it twice 
with her tongue than I came. Still the biggest, longest orgasm of my life as she 
sucked and licked through my spasms. 

I hugged her. 'Maddy! Maddy! Maddy, that was lovely!' I whispered in her 
ear. 'Let me now....'

She knelt over me, her blonde cunt inches from my face. I could see her lips, 
plumped and open with lust, her little nub standing, glistening and eager for 
me. And her tits....from below so hard and proud as they stood. She lowered 
herself onto my face, and I tasted another girl. My tongue worked eagerly at 
her......I loved it. She was raking her open lips up and down my face, and I was 
trying to enter her with my tongue on each stroke, and to catch her clit with my 
pursed lips as it dragged across my face. I was covered in her slippery juices.

Remembering, I was close to coming now, and I watched in the mirror as my 
body arched, and both hands felt, rubbed, tweaked and entered my body. I was 
coming. I closed my eyes and let it flow through me...... Finally I was still, my 
hand,  inside my panties, resting motionless over my cunt.

She had come once, me holding her hips as she bounced up and down. Then 
she, still glued cunt to my lips, bent over me , collapsed onto my belly, and 
sought out my cunt again with her tongue. This time it took long enough for 
me to really enjoy it....and we both came together.

And that was the end. Ten years!

Suddenly her body was wrenched off mine. Our passion was broken, as one 
might smash a priceless figurine.  I saw in horror her being restrained by the 
Director, a prim, mean, middle-aged bitch. She was standing, holding my 
Madeleine crushed against her....one hand grasping each of her tits, pulling her 
back and bottom into her scrawny bosom. Madeleine was struggling and 
protesting, and I could see the thin, clawlike fingers gripping and bruising her 
bosom. Suddenly I felt myself being pushed down on the bed as I tried to sit 
up. It was the Padre....a fat, middle-aged failure of a man. He had one hand on 
my chest and another on my belly....if I said it was a hand on one tit and the 
other on my nearly hairless mound, that would be nearer the truth. 

Who said what? I closed my eyes to blot it out. All I could hear was their 
voices....'Filth! Disgusting! Evil!.......' And Maddy, sobbing .  And on it went. 

I was told to dress and pack my case. Madeleine was hauled away by the two 
of them. I never saw her again. We hadn't had a chance to exchange 
addresses....I didn't even know what town she came from.

                                 .....................................................................

If I and Madeleine had known the effect this event had had on the two adults, 
that would have been some consolation for the weeks of tears and sorrow that 
followed. How the image of the two bodies inter-twined, long , athletic limbs, 
and rounder, more feminine forms, how this picture had embedded itself in 
their minds. Hands clasping buttock-cheeks, blonde head bobbing up and 
down between soft, olive-skinned thighs. The panting and passion. The image 
would accompany the Padre's solitary, guilty, feeble masturbations through all 
his long years. The beauty of our bodies created an ideal in Mrs Powell-Parry's  
imagination that for the rest of her days made all her fumblings and guilt-
ridden half-pleasures unsatisfactory by comparison.

One day I'll write about how we got our own back on them. 

But enough of these sad old farts, hypocrites both!

                         .......................................................................

That night I came , unusually, when  Lenny decided to fuck. He noticed my 
satisfaction, and was pleased with himself. But he would have been less 
pleased, perhaps, if he had known that in my imagination it was Madeleine in 
my arms and her lips on mine! At all events, as I fell asleep I promised myself 
I would call that number as soon as he was out of the house.

                         ......................................................................

I had assured her I wasn't angry and wasn't going to play the wronged wife 
with her....just curious. It was five to four when I stood outside the plain, dark-
red painted door next to the chemist's on High Street. Funny! I'd never noticed 
it before. I pressed the bell and gave my name, my married name, and the door 
clicked open. My heart raced as I went up the stairs, deep red carpets, and on 
the walls pictures and photos of women dressed like Irma in the famous 
photograph that started all this. 

At the top of the stairs a broader corridor with a long mirror. I stopped and 
checked myself. I hadn't been sure how to dress...I'd wanted to look sexy 
without being too obvious. As I looked at myself, I thought I might have got it 
wrong. Tarty! My black leather skirt was too short, and you could see my 
nipples clearly through the skimpy white top. And my cleavage too. And my 
lipstick was really just too scarlet. I primped my hair. Too late now! I knocked 
and the door was opened instantly.

Perhaps I hadn't dressed too tarty after all. She was in a black satin negligee, 
with a matching black ribbon like a sweatband for her short, cropped blonde 
hair. She was taller than me, especially with her very high high-heels. And you 
could see her nipples too, worse than mine, outlined through the shiny cloth. 
As soon as she spoke I knew it was my Madeleine.

She settled me in the deep leather sofa, and sat close beside me while we drank 
a cup of tea.

'I'm so glad we can discuss this,' she said. 'So many women would be upset 
finding that in their husband's wallet.'

'We're not as close as we were. And I've been considering things myself.....'

She laughed. 'They assume they can do just what they want...and then come 
home to the everloving!'

I finished my tea.

'Which of my photos was it?'

'Wearing a sort of basque.... green. well not a basque, really. A sort of 
waspie...but with more suspender straps.'

'The men like that. I prefer this' She stood up, tweaked the bow on her 
negligee and let it fall apart. I couldn't take my eyes off those perfect tits. 
Perfect for me , at least. She must have seen something in my eyes as she 
didn't fasten it  again when she sat down, even closer to me now.  Her naked 
thigh pressed against mine, and I shivered . She leaned over and kissed, 
lightly, my willing lips. It was merely a brushing contact, but I moved closer to 
her, grasped her in my arms , and really kissed.

I found I was carressing her, one hand on her  thigh, and the other round her 
shoulder, feeling firm muscles through the satin negligee. She had her right 
hand in my hair, pushing my head closer, supporting it while her tongue forced 
its way into my mouth. My breasts now, as she reached into my top , reaching 
down for my nipple and rolling it between finger and thumb. I fell backwards, 
and felt her weight on my body as we writhed and wriggled together.  I was 
able to move my hand from her bottom up over her hips, and then between us 
so I could enjoy her firm breast. 

Suddenly she broke away....still silent...and was sitting on the floor between 
my legs. She pushed my skirt up, and  was brushing my thigh with her lips. I 
had slipped forward on the sofa so my bottom rested on the edge. I  felt her 
face buried into my crotch, and then nibbling at my lips though the thin nylon. 
She was running her hands up and down my legs. I took her blonde head in 
both hands, and pressed it harder into my cunt, moving up and down against it 
now. I felt her pull the panty aside, holding it with one hand while she parted 
my lips with the other. I was moaning! And now her tongue on my clit...after 
all these years.

It took longer than it had all those years ago, but her tongue licking up and 
down, penetrating, and returning to suck and nibble at my clit, before returning 
to my vagina.....well it didn't take long, and I was bathed with the ecstacy of a 
huge orgasm.  

Now we were sitting , in each others' arms, kissing and fondling. I murmured 
in her ear, 'Maddy, Maddy, Maddy.............'

A huge double take. 'How.....? How did you know my old name? Unless....' 
She held my face in her hands. 'Donna?'

'Yes, Maddy. After all these years.' We kissed.

'Do you remember?' 

I was scrabbling at my clothes, kicking my shoes off, unzipping my skirt, 
pulling my top over my shoulders, slipping my panties down. And she was 
laying on top of me, her face in my crotch, her legs open and her cunt  inches 
from my eager lips. She was shaved and smooth. In wonder, I parted the lips, 
pulling them apart with fingers and thumbs, and as I felt her lips nibble on my 
nub, so I raised mine to hers and pulled at it, sucking hard.

I was a teenager again, with my first sexual partner. And the best! My hands 
on her slim buttocks, pulling her down and onto me. My tongue deep inside 
her as she writhed, rubbing her clit and lips against my face. Her mouth on me, 
nibbling at me, sucking, licking, tongue penetrating. And I was soaring! I 
suddenly remembered in a helicopter over the desert, soaring and swooping, 
the laughing pilot his hand on my thigh and then inside my panties, fingering 
my clit. I came, and felt Maddy's orgasm under me.

Later. 'I have to get ready for a client. He's due at six...that's about ten 
minutes.'

I helped her with the hooks on her basque, and with the suspender clips. I 
enjoyed the opportunity to caress again that marvelous body. As we dressed 
she was talking.

'I  learned two things that day ten years ago. The first was the pleasure there is 
in a woman's body. You taught me that , Donna.' She held my head in her 
hands as kneeling to fasten  a suspender, I planted a tender kiss on her shaven 
mound. 'The second was that men like to be beaten....some at any rate, perhaps 
most.'

??? I looked up at her enquiring.

'They  hauled me off to her office...the bitch Director. Imagine the shame, 
standing there naked, the two of them dressed. They both shouted at me a bit, 
and then she went to a cupboard and took out a cane. One of those whippy 
little ones, with a walking stick handle. Anyway, she sat down in an armchair 
and made me kneel in front of her. She pulled my hair....it was longer 
then....and pulled my head up between her legs till my face was hard against 
her crotch. I can still remember how white her thighs were above her black 
stockings...and her black nylon panties. She closed her legs trapping me there. 
And then it began. I felt her lean forward over me, her cunt moving against my 
face, and then the swack of the cane across my bum. Each time it fell I 
wriggled, and I knew she was using me to  stimulate herself, rubbing herself 
against me....I could feel her getting hotter, and wetter through her pants, and 
finally I felt her come. The whipping stopped.'

'Did it do anything for you.'

'I must admit! But I think it was more her coming than the caning. Anyway 
that wasn't the second of the lessons. She was still gripping me between my 
thighs, when I felt him against me. His naked legs against mine, kneeling, and 
then his cock pressed against my bottom...'

'He didn't......?'

'No, I expect he'd have liked to. But he didn't dare. Either hole.' She laughed. 
'And then my second lesson. I heard the cane swish again, and I realised she 
was leaning over the two of us and caning his bottom. Each stroke his cock 
moved up and down my crack...not in it, though I was sopping wet by now as I 
felt her heat rising again. I even nibbled a bit at her as she caned him. 
Suddenly he was shouting. Demanding more and faster and harder. And I felt 
him come all over my bottom, and at the same time felt her come under my 
lips now. There, just the stilettos again and I'm ready for business.'

'So you have men pay you for caning them?'

'That and a few other games.'

'And Lenny. My husband. You whip him?'

'I'm not sure who he is...some don't use their real names here. Describe him.'

'Blonde, long hair, slim, short...much shorter than me. Pale white skin. Not 
hairy at all.'

'I've got him. Leonard. A very pretty boy!'

'I suppose he is!'

'Do you really want to know what he does?' I nodded. ''Well, he has me dress 
him up in panties and stockings. Tie him up and whip him till he's good and 
hard. And then I fuck him over a bench till he comes in his knickers.'

'You fuck him?'

'With a strap on. I'll show you. I need it for the next customer in any case.' 
She looked very intimidating with the great black penis strapped to her!

'I'd like some of that. I think.'

'What? Fucking? Or being fucked?'

'Both. I think.'

Well, it'll have to be tomorrow. Duty calls now. But tomorrow. Promise.' She 
kissed me briefly. 'And we'll have to see whether we can go into partnership. 
I'm sure some of my clients would like two dominatrices. Now shoo!'

As I was going down  the stairs the street door opened, and a tall, burly gent, 
of military appearance greying....about sixty I'd guess. But well preserved. He 
waited till I was down, and politely muttered a good evening. I turned and 
watched him lumber up the stairs. I tried to imagine him in panties and 
stockings, being caned. I giggled. It was just too ludicrous. But Lenny. Now 
that would be different. He would make a  pretty girl! The germs of an idea 
entered my head. Yes! A  very pretty girl. And he deserved a whipping. A 
hundred pounds a month on sex! Bastard! Yes. I'd whip him all right.

There is a sex-shop by the station. I walked past it three times before I plucked 
up courage to go in...and only then because I realised I looked like a whore 
walking up and down! I needn't have worried. The shop was empty, and the 
boy at the counter was totally bored, reading his sports pages. I chose a black 
cat-o-nine-tails type whip, a big black strap-on, and a pair of handcuffs. Now 
the shoes.

The girl in the shoeshop was helpful. I bought a pair of high-heeled slippers, 
silver with diamente,size five  for Lenny....Leonora? Yes, Leonora! But there 
were no black stilettos in size eight for me. But the shop-girl told me they'd 
got them in the window of a shop down the road. 

It was a drag specialist. Advertising transformations. The assistant was very 
helpful.....only her voice showed she was not really a girl. Her voice, and her 
hands, perhaps. I bought my shoes, and was looking at a french-maid's outfit.

'Too small for you, dear.'

'It's for my husband. 'I blurted out. And blushed when I realised what I'd said.

'Lucky him! Does he look as good dressed as you do?'

'I don't know. I've never seen him.'

'Ooooh! Well let's see. You'll need these, and these, and these...and these'

I left with a bag full of underwear, kinky dresses, special make-up, breast 
forms, a wig...and I don't know what else! I hurried up as I turned the corner 
into our road. Still an hour to lay out his clothes  , bath, and ,yes, shave myself. 
He was in for a treat! And so was I!

                                          ....................................................
