The following fictional story is being reposted by Mr Double.  If you are the author of this story and would like to receive proper recognition (an Author's Page at my website at: http://pw1.netcom.com/~mrdouble/main/stories.html), please contact me at mrdouble@ix.netcom.com.








From an282402@anon.penet.fi Sun Feb 18 07:44:12 1996
Message-ID: <065312Z18021996@anon.penet.fi>
Path: news.uni-c.dk!newsfeed.sunet.se!news01.sunet.se!sunic!psinntp!psinntp!psinntp!howland.reston.ans.net!EU.net!news.eunet.fi!anon.penet.fi
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
From: an282402@anon.penet.fi
X-Anonymously-To: alt.sex.stories
Organization: Anonymous forwarding service
Reply-To: an282402@anon.penet.fi
Date: Sun, 18 Feb 1996 06:44:12 UTC
Subject: Mom's Story - I   (Repost on behalf of Cyber Sculptor; see notes)
Lines: 415


This is a repost of a story by Cyber Sculptor. The ending suggested
further chapters, but there were none for a long time, so I wrote him to
offer a little encouragement. He wrote back to say that he just wasn't
getting any ideas and that he had given most of his erotic-writing
attention to the story "Barfly" (see that one?).  When I offered a few
ideas of my own, he suggested that I write some continuations and then
run them by him for some editorial comment and revision (it is his
series, after all), and he would reserve the right to resume the series
himself if he wanted to at some future time. That arrangement is fine
with me, so here goes! For the sake of continuity, I'm reposting his
first story and then I'll take a shot at continuing. I hope you'll enjoy
both this one and the ones to follow.


                                 Mom's Story - I
                     (Original, by Cyber Sculptor)

     "Mom, I'm SEH-VUN-TEEN!"

     Damn, I was getting tired of hearing that!  Like a weekly TV
series, it was time for my Friday argument with daughter, Lori. She had
this incredibly annoying way of accenting each syllable of her age as if
it were the revelation of the century. Of course, the message was
obvious: at 17, I know everything, am ready for anything, and I'm not
about to be told what to do by my fuddy-duddy mother! Her familiar,
defiant stance, her gritty voice, her frigid stare, all told me my
efforts to hold her in line were futile. 

     As always, she looked like a twenty-dollar whore, dressed in her
thin T-shirt and sprayed-on jeans, waiting for her boyfriend Rob to pick
her up to go to God knows where to do God knows what (as if I didn't). I
felt helpless, trying to instill a little sense of being ladylike,
perhaps just a trace of propriety to soften the edges, and, as always,
my admonitions might as well have been directed to the dishwasher for
all the effect they had.

     With a haughty sneer, she turned from me and planted herself on the
sofa, awaiting Rob's arrival. I was about to deliver yet another
mini-sermon when the frustration took over and I felt a sudden,
overwhelming wave of fatigue and depression. Summoning what motherly
dignity I could manage, I turned and left. I felt a failure, as if all
the values and principles I'd tried to teach her had all been so much
dross in her eyes.

          It was almost bizarre, how this issue divided us, compared to
the rest of our relationship. In fact, there were times when I got the
distinct impression that she was being especially cooperative and
solicitous in other things to compensate for troubling me with this. In
lots of ways she was a model daughter: respectful, helpful, eager to
please, making single motherhood quite a bit more tolerable than it
might have been otherwise. The transformation that occurred on these
weekend dates with Rob was all the more disturbing in contrast.

     Shortly, Rob had arrived, greeted me politely and left with Lori.
He wasn't a bad kid, really; Lori could have done a lot worse. To tell
the honest truth (OK; what other kind of truth is there?), I found him
quite attractive. Well, if they're at it, at least it's with someone I
can stand, I thought. It wasn't much comfort. 

     I was collapsed in a chair, for some reason especially drained on
this particular night. There she was, independent, almost incorrigible,
undoubtedly having a great time while I watched television and the walls
yet again. My thoughts drifted to Darren, the man in my life who came
closest to the title of boyfriend. Why he put up with me I myself
wondered at times. I knew there was little enough in the way of warmth
or romance in our relationship and I knew who was responsible for that,
and I wasn't he. I had grown withdrawn and cold in the years since my
divorce, I knew it and hated it, and yet was a powerless against it as I
was against my daughter's mercurial rebelliousness. Still, Darren must
have seen something in me that I could not; he stood by me, endured my
moods and still seemed to enjoy what good times we had. I credited him
with a good part of what ability I had left to retain some sanity, but
it seemed beyond me to express my appreciation to him. 

     The television droned on but I paid scant attention. My thoughts
this night were stepping from Lori to Rob to Darren and back again like
an out-of-control slide show. There was something unusual going on in
the troubled mind I possessed - or did it possess me? - and I was too
tired of it all to even try to interpret it.

     How dare she? I'm her mother; I still have something to say about
her behavior, seventeen years old or not! But I was beginning to have as
much trouble believing it myself as I was convincing her of it. She was
a level-headed girl in most ways, and on the threshold of legal
adulthood. Soon she would be leaving the nest forever, and the friction
was undoubtedly part of the natural separation process. I'd best get
used to it; quite probably the time wasn't far off when her departure to
begin her adult life would present the bittersweet twang of parents
through the ages, and I might well miss even these arguments.

     Once again, I found my thoughts drifting to my own life and the
aching emptiness that so pervaded it. Lori would never succumb to this,
I knew. She was too free-spiritied, too full of life to ever build an
emotional cocoon around herself as I had. Yet, wasn't I much that way at
one time? What had happened?

     Right about then, it struck me with the impact of a fast freight
train. I was jealous! Jealous of my young, beautiful daughter's life and
unfettered spirit! The thought wasn't at all pleasant and reflexively I
began rationalizing against it. But it became more and more insistent,
to the point where I could no longer pretend it wasn't true. I was less
bothered by her open, radiant sexuality, her defiant stance and her
independence as I was troubled by the lack of those things in my own
life.

     And whose fault was that? I had to face the fact that I was the
architect of my own mental prison, and my own jailer. I wanted freedom
and liberation, and the only person barring the way was myself.

     Such insights are often unwelcome, at least for a while. Still,
facing the truth has a way of clearing the mind and a murky, distant
memory, long suppressed, began revealing itself. It was of a young
woman, eager to challenge life, that was me before the shock and hurt of
a major loss rendered her spirit comatose. And it was time to awaken.

     Preoccupied and dreamlike, I mounted the stairs and entered my
room. There, hardly aware of my own motives, I found myself reviewing
the clothes hanging in my closet. There were some pretty sexy items
there, but they were all bunched at the far end, long displaced by the
more practical and unflattering garments that I always wore. They seemed
almost lonesome, over there in the shadows, as if waiting for a chance
to come forth and serve their intended purpose.

     My eyes became fixed on one particular dress. It was the one I wore
only for my husband when I wanted some of that very special kind of
attention. It was made of a glossy, clinging fabric, cut very
revealingly, and it fit perfectly. I had taken quite some time searching
for something that provocative, and it had paid off. In it, I had looked
sexy, and more important, I had FELT sexy. Wearing always brought out
the animal in me, and even more so in him. I wonder what it would feel
like now...

     In moments I had put it on. It felt good, and the feeling was like
an old, forgotten song that suddenly rekindles an equally old and
forgotten sensation. I modeled it in the mirror, indulging for the first
time in literally years an admiration for the physical gifts Nature had
bestowed upon me. At 36 my breasts hadn't even begun to show my age and
were still firm and proud in their fullness, a trait that my daughter
had definitely inherited. My nipples were hard and sharply revealed
under the thin fabric and for a few fleeting moments I recalled how my
husband had reacted to them. He really was a breast freak, always
getting a good rise out of any lady with a good set, especially if her
nipples showed at all. There were times I found that annoying, but I had
always tried to remember that a little whetting of appetite in the world
out there meant a full-course meal in the bedroom later.

     I smiled when I recalled how I really put on the pressure at times.
The dress was the kind that tied behind the neck and if I leaned forward
just the right way it would fall forward and reveal just as much of my
breasts as I wanted him to see. I could be a real tease at those times
and it drove him crazy - just as crazy as he drove me in bed just a
little later.

     I turned so the mirror was to my side and acted out that little
ritual once more. I had always managed to find an excuse for it,
pretending that I was leaning that way for some utterly prosaic purpose.
It never fooled him, of course, but the illusion just heightened the
sexual pressure that much more. Too bad, I thought, that so many of
today's kids seem to have forgotten the value of subtlety and the
buildup to passion.

     Bending toward my nightstand, I picked up a rose that Darren had
given me that weekend. It was very close to expiration but I didn't want
to discard it, not yet. It was strange, imagining that he was there
getting "the treatment" when I had never let him get beyond caressing my
breasts inside my bra and blouse before. Can you believe it?

     At that moment a slight rustling sound to my right arrested my
attention. There was Lori, grinning as widely as I'd ever seen! And
behind her was Rob, making a lame pretense of looking at something down
the hall as if he hadn't seen my little role-play fantasy. I was shocked
and angry; they had been acting like voyeurs. Yet, somehow, in this
state of mind I had entered, the negative feelings faded quickly, more
quickly than I wanted. I faced them, remonstrating her for her
spectating, all the while aware of a strange glow inside knowing that a
man had actually enjoyed the sight of my body for once. I was fighting
that glow; it just wasn't right! This was a situation that called for a
firm, sensible attitude and I just wasn't finding it.

     Ever find yourself trying to look stern and having to fight the
urge to burst out laughing? Well, this was such a case, and my daughter
saw right through me. My inchoate diatribe was barely beginning when I
saw her just grin a bit more widely and I felt my own resolve crumble.
My lip twitched; my face lost its grimace and in moments I was embracing
her, laughing and crying while she returned the warmth, not really aware
of what had hold of me but knowing that an icy dam was breaking and that
it was good. Rob had dispached himself to the bathroom, probably more to
spare me embarrassment than out of need, but in a few moments Lori
called to him and he sat beside us on my bed, looking uncomfortable, but
only slightly.

     Surprisingly, considering the fact that he was there, I found
myself pouring out my feelings. I really did feel comfortable with him
and in a way it was good to have a decent man there to hear me describe
the flow of feelings that had characterized that evening. All the while
I was aware but strangely unconcerned about the fact that I was in that
sexy dress and wasn't at all inclined to hide my body from his
occasional glance. He was struggling bravely against his urges but I
could easily see him trying to get a good look at my breasts or my hips
and legs whenever he thought I might not notice. And I WANTED him to.

     And how could Lori fail to notice? Well, she didn't. As became
apparent later, she had no problem whatsoever with her boyfriend's
appreciation of her mother. The intimacy of our conversation, the
momentum of the liberation of my long-locked feelings and the whole
atmosphere were warm, sexy and uninhibited.

     It was she who finally broke the ice.

     "See, Rob; I always told you  my mom was a sexy lady!  Tell me you
don't get a charge out of seeing her in that dress!" I stared at her,
amazed but not upset with her brazen statement.

     "Come on, Mom; give him a show. Strut your stuff a little!"  Just
what is she up to, I wondered. Yet the openness of the situation seemed
to allow for even this. In amazement at my own actions, I rose, faced
him and smiled.  Arching my back a little, I forced my breasts against
the fabric of the dress, emphasizing their full form. Lori clapped in
delight, and Rob, freed from the need to pretend he wasn't noticing,
looked on with eagerness tempered with enough gentlemanly deference to
keep me from becoming apprehensive. 

     I was starting to really get into it. My mind flashed on some of
the famous women who had bared their bodies in men's magazines and how
nudity and open sexuality were so much more acceptable than when I had
been Lori's age. Here I was, showing off my body for my own daughter's
boyfriend, and yet it didn't seem all that remarkable, less so as time
went by. Didn't Drew Barrymore's mother doff her duds in PLAYBOY just a
few months after her daughter did? And I wonder if Francis Albert
Sinatra was annoyed or proud when daughter Nancy, still gorgeous in her
fifties, did the same. 

     I had nothing on under the dress and as I turned my back to Lori
and Rob I knew my hips and buttocks were plainly outlined by it. I felt
tingly, losing myself in the outrageousness of the whole situation. Rob
made a little sound of appreciation and that spurred me on. Before I
resumed my place on the bed I had actually done a little swaying dance,
setting my breasts and hips in motion in a way I had never dreamed of
doing for any man I was not married to. 

     "Mom, you are HOT!" Lori exclaimed and Rob smiled his agreement. I
thanked them, reiterating how long it had been since I had felt any
sense of my body and my sexuality. I was sitting between Lori and Rob
now and without even a thought, I embraced her again, a motherly
embrace, but then turned and gave him one, this one quite a bit more
provocative. The feel of a man's chest against my breasts without the
glacial resistance of the past was starting my motor running and I was
beginning to wonder just how far this might go.

     My daughter knows me well. She knew exactly where I was and how
charged the situation was. When she softly pulled the drawstring on my
dress she knew I would not resist. The filmy fabric fell away from my
breasts and remained almost motionless, simply reveling in the feeling
of being openly bare-breasted with an appreciative man. Presently I
found myself rising again, dancing again, this time finishing what my
daughter had begun. I modeled my bare breasts for Rob while Lori slyly
lifted her T-shirt and removed it. I didn't mind at all. Swaying my
hips, I slowly slipped the dress off them and stood, completely nude,
before them. Lori took Rob's hand and signalled him to stand. As I
looked on, she began unzipping his jeans, and the readiness of his cock
was clearly visible even before she started. He removed his shirt while
she took care of his jeans and shorts, then motioned us both to be
seated while she peeled off her own jeans and panties in a wild, sinuous
dance. Where the hell had she learned this stuff? But what did it
matter?

     Rob, his cock as fully erect as any I've even imagined, rose and
took Lori in his arms. They began swaying, their bodies pressing
together ever more firmly, urgently, as if their incipient mating
couldn't wait. His hands roamed her breasts and buttocks and then I saw
his fingers straying to her pussy. She pressed her hips against his
touch, gasping with the sensations. Her own hand was caressing his cock,
skilfully keeping it at a peak of pleasure without going too far too
soon. How angry I'd have been to get any hint they were so experienced
together the way I had been before, and how excited I was to see it now!
I was mesmerized, my eyes fixed on their bodies, my mind drinking in
their passion. How crazy this is, yet how natural! I felt my own hands
cupping and caressing my breasts and nipples and that glow was becoming
a four-alarmer!

     Lori turned and walked to the bed, leading Rob by the hand. She lay
back, her eyes bright and eager, glancing from me to her handsome, sexy
boyfriend. He took his place between her opened legs and began kissing
and playing with her breasts with wild abandon. Even Lori hadn't been
sure how far involved I'd have been willing to get, but all my barriers
were down. I wasn't going to let her have all the fun.  I was on my side
next to them and I took Rob's hand and placed it firmly on my breast. My
hands began roaming his backside and he soon politely excused himself to
Lori and began addressing his attentions fully to me. I lay back beside
my daughter, becoming completely lost in the sensation of his lips on my
nipples and shortly, his finger on my long-neglected clitoris. There was
no longer the slightest thought of impropriety; I wanted this, all of
it, and I wanted my daughter to have her full share of it as well.

     Rob, it turns out, had plenty to spare for both of us. My
fingertips touched his throbbing cock and I felt it twitch at the
contact. My pussy was flooding and my heart was racing. I saw Lori nod
to Rob and felt him place himself between my legs. His cockhead brushed
my clit; his powerful chest loomed above me and I instinctively raised
my hips to meet him. Even a few moments earlier I would have sworn it
would never go this far, but with one movement, one thrust, and he was
inside me, probing, thrilling, igniting the pent-up fuel of my inner
passions. I felt each hard, delicious thrust and met every one with my
own. Wild, animal feelings coursed through my being and every nerve
seemed to be on fire with pleasure.

     "Come in her, Rob!  Come in my mother!" Lori's chants became the
cadence of our union, accelerating as we accelerated. Rob was reaching
his limit and I was already losing count of my climaxes. When he reached
his peak I met him with rapid thrusts and he exploded in me, spilling
his seed into his girlfriend's mother. Lori clapped again and Rob,
momentarily spent, collapsed between us.  My own excitement became
subdued into the warmth of afterglow and presently I turned to face Rob.
I kissed him and whispered, "Thank you! I haven't felt such a thrill in
years. But now I want something else."

     He was momentarily confused, and Lori's face echoed that
uncertainty.

     "What is that?" he asked hesitantly.

     "I want to see you fuck my daughter!"

     Had I said THAT? Lori's face showed that she was surprised as I. I
mean, that word just wasn't in my vocabulary! But it wasn't long before
I watched Lori's lips surrounding Rob's cock as he caressed her breasts.
I had never done that myself and it seemed bizarre for while, but only a
short while. Before long he was erect and ready, ministering to my
daughter's body with expert finesse. I watched as she reached for him,
indicating her readiness. I stared at his cock, eager to witness every
moment of his penetration of Lori just as I had experienced his
penetration of me. I saw his rigid manhood touch her flesh and disappear
within it. Their moans of ecstacy their passionate mating drove me crazy
and I knew that before the night was over we would both know Rob's cock
again, and again.

                                ***

     When I awoke, I was startled to discover a man beside me. It was
morning, quite a bit later than the time I usually rose, and the
experiences of the previous night flooded back into my mind. For a while
the old me threatened to assert itself; the overriding influence of
passion wasn't there at that moment. But that feeling waned and the
delicious sensations of the night displaced them. 

     Not much later, Rob and Lori awoke and rose to meet the day. I just
wanted to stay in bed and live in the recollections of that night, but
one other thought had begun to disturb the dream: Darren. Even though I
had, in a sense, only "borrowed" Rob with my daughter's active approval,
there was a growing sense that I had somehow cheated on him. Well, I
had, hadn't I?

     "What's wrong, Mom?" As usual, Lori read me perfectly. 

     "It's Darren, baby," I murmured. Lori sometimes winced when I
called her that, but not this time. She could tell that my new-found
liberation was threatened by something and she didn't want it to die,
any more than I did.

     We decided to discuss it after Rob had left. After breakfast we all
showered together, building up a new wave of pleasure and once more Lori
and I both felt the welcome presence of Rob's skilled cock within us.
But thoughts of Darren were in the way now; it wasn't the same.

     When Rob had left I explained. Lori listened patiently as I
expressed all my concerns and the sense of guilt that had begun rising
inside me. She seemed intent on letting me pour it all out before she
spoke. And when she finally did, her words were stunning. 

     "Mom," she said almost in a whisper, "we've been hoping this would
happen. All of us. Rob, me, " she paused, "and Darren." 

     I felt a momentary displacement of consciousness, as if I were
dreaming. This didn't make sense.

     "I...I don't understand," I said, or more accurately, blurted. 

     "You've had your mind and your feelings bottled up for so long and
Darren's a pretty open guy, more than you think.  He loves you, Mom, so
much that he is willing to let another man break the ice in you as long
as he knows he's still the one in your heart." 

     I had known about such liberal attitudes before, but they had
always seemed distant, something that people you never meet might have.
But it did seem to fall into place. Darren did love me, so much that
he'd stand me in spite of all my reserve, yet he was so firm in his own
self-confidence that he knew that a liberating experience like the night
before, with a man who could not replace him, would be good for me -
and, ultimately, for both of us. 

     "Dear, I'm beginning to understand. You may not believe this, but
I've never been to bed with Darren - I haven't even let him see my
breasts naked!  But I know that that will soon change. There's just one
thing, Lori."

     "What's that, Mom?"

     "The next time we share Rob, will we be sharing Darren as well?" I
smiled wickedly.

     She returned that wicked smile. "No problem, Mom. I think we'll be
having one heck of a party!"

     A new chapter had begun in my life. This crazy experience brought
about great changes in me, my attitude and my lifestyle. Perhaps you, my
patient reader, would find them interesting. You tell me, and if you
like, I'll see about sharing them with you. But for now, until the next
episode, so long.

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From an282402@anon.penet.fi Sun Feb 18 07:56:41 1996
Message-ID: <070304Z18021996@anon.penet.fi>
Path: news.uni-c.dk!newsfeed.sunet.se!news01.sunet.se!sunic!uunet!in1.uu.net!EU.net!news.eunet.fi!anon.penet.fi
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
From: an282402@anon.penet.fi
X-Anonymously-To: alt.sex.stories
Organization: Anonymous forwarding service
Reply-To: an282402@anon.penet.fi
Date: Sun, 18 Feb 1996 06:56:41 UTC
Subject: Mom's Story - II  (after proper proofreading; please ignore previous post!)
Lines: 558


The last post wasn't properly proofread. This one is. Sorry about that;
please ignore the first one.

This is the next installment in the Mom's Story series by another
author. With his editorial help I'm writing these continuations, at
least for a while.

I also plan to write other stories that center around sexy wives and
moms. Mine will be a little different; while there are quite a few of
these on the net, most of them get to hard "action" quickly and never
let up. No problem there, for those who like that style. But I
personally prefer a bit more of human thoughts and feelings, a bit more
buildup and a generally different style. The original "Mom's Story" and
the other one by the same author, "Barfly," were that way and I liked
them, so I'll be continuing in that fashion, as best I can. If you want
non-stop hard sex, well, this probably isn't for you. But otherwise,
give it a look; you might like what you see!

	Mom's Story - II
	by Free Spirit

My mind seemed to drift through a dense fog as I attended to the
ordinary chores of that day. So much had happened in such a short time!
A single mother with a heart and mind encased in ice had become a wild,
sexual fiend, sharing her daughter's boyfriend's skilled cock with her
and then discovering that my ever-patient boyfriend (yes; I could call
him that now; until then he'd been little more than someone I dated on
occasion) had actually hoped something like that would happen and
actively encouraged it! These things were the stuff of fantasy; to
recall that they had all occurred within less than a day's time left me
almost in shock, though of a quite pleasant form.

My body was still tingling with both what had happened and the
anticipation of what may lie ahead. Rob's powerful instrument had
invaded me twice already, the kind of invasion I hadn't experienced in
over five years,  and I felt ready for nearly anything - anything, that
is, that my loving Darren might want to share with me. For I knew he
loved me; the signs that I had so energetically ignored for so long now
coalesced into a mosaic of thrilling detail and dimension. Here was a
man who had proven, in a way few men have the chance to do, that his
love for me extended far beyond mere lust for my body. I had denied him
even the most basic access to it and he had stood by me faithfully
anyway. Now that he would soon enjoy that last, long-denied intimacy
seemed to be a completion of the mosaic, one that I longed for and
counted the minutes until it could come to fruition. I had broken out
into a wide smile and my heart was leaping and I hadn't even noticed for
quite a long time.

There were windows to wash, carpets to vacuum and a daunting array of
other dreary duties to get accomplished. These things had for years been
part of the backdrop of my colorless life, but today I found them
oppressive, and the clock seemed to have become weary - hadn't it slowed
to less than half its usual speed?

For it was Wednesday, our usual night out. I had a job that kept me busy
on Friday and Saturday nights, and I now realized that that was no mere
accident; my old self had wanted to keep the usual nights of dates,
parties and fun well-occupied with more mundane obligations. Darren,
bless his heart, had silently accepted this strange arrangement despite
the fact that his Wednesdays were occupied with his profession of
software engineering (is there any other job these days?) and he was
good and tired by evening. What a man! As I mentally listed the
extraordinary accommodations he had made for me over the years, I
increasingly marvelled at his selflessness. What he had seen in me for
so long I couldn't fathom, but at that moment, I could not have been
more grateful for it.

When the sun had completed its agonizingly slow passage to twilight, I
heard the doorbell ring. It was Darren, ready for his night out with me!
I could feel a sly smile break out on my face as I imagined his reaction
when I appeared in that same sexy, black dress that Rob and Lori had
caught me in, the one that I had never allowed to be seen in public when
I was married. Yes; I did have a special, low-cut bra to go with it; I
wasn't quite planning to show my breasts to the entire crowd out there
and I new that must happen if I bent over at some time and wasn't
careful. It didn't fit quite right; Lori had lent it to me and her young
breasts aren't quite as full as mine. But it fit well enough for the
purpose and I couldn't wait to see Darren's face when I appeared in it.

When I greeted him at the door I was still in a pull-over sweatshirt and
baggy jeans, my usual household-chores uniform. That was typical; he
wasn't in the least surprised. He smiled, gave me a warm if perfunctory
hug and took his place on the sofa as I offered him a drink. As he began
sampling it I excused myself to dress, trying not to smile too
obviously.

There in my bedroom I slipped on the bra Lori had lent me and the
panties that went with it. Then a wicked thought occurred to me: why not
go without the panties? I new a lot of women did that and their husbands
and boyfriends loved it, and the dress, though just above knee-length,
would keep things adequately covered.

I slipped on my sexy black dress, feeling the same wicked pleasure I had
when Rob and Lori were admiring it on me before, only amplified by a
huge factor. Primping in the mirror, I adjusted it, trying to get just
the right emphasis of the dress' dcolletage while still being a bit
demure and teasing.

It took a while, but what man isn't used to waiting for a lady to get
dressed? I strode to the top of the stairs and then froze. I had a brief
image of Darren becoming upset, angrily insisting that no date of his
would appear in such a revealing outfit. But in a few moments I recalled
what my daughter had said, and the hints and indications in Darren's
attitude. Yes; he wouldn't mind, and perhaps even...

Partly to be seductively poised and partly out of nervousness, I
descended the stairs very slowly. Darren, occupied by the television,
didn't observe me for quite some time. Then he noticed the movement on
the stairs and turned to me. This is it, I thought, a lump forming in my
throat.

Darren's eyes seemed to grow to the size of half-dollars, and his
features shone with confusion. But there was no denying the smile that
accompanied those features; he liked it!

The utter amazement had caused him to lose concentration on the drink in
his hand and it slowly tilted until it spilled on his shirt. In a moment
I began correcting the problem (fortunately, the drink contained nothing
that would stain), and then his gaze returned to me, his look of pleased
shock not at all abated.

I couldn't have been more thrilled! It was better, many times better,
than the best I had hoped for. As the nervousness disappeared, I took on
a slinky, seductive walk, a wicked smile on my face (at least, I think
it looked that way), my hips taking on a sway I though I'd forgotten
years ago, and then I stood before him.

"What do you think, my love?"

His obsession with my unexpected appearance seemed to have rendered him
speechless. He could only nod his head as his wide eyes scanned my body
from head to toe and back again. When he finally found his breath, it
was but a throaty whisper.

"Carole! Carole...I don't think I believe this! Am I dreaming, or what?"

"You're not upset, are you?" I knew he wasn't, but I wanted that last,
overt, word of confirmation.

"Not at all. You are stunning - ravishing - incredible! In my wildest
dreams I have never imagined you this way!"

"Well, my love," I had never even addressed him that warmly before,
"this is for you. Your mentally-imprisoned iceberg has melted. I want to
be a real woman to you, for once, and this is the moment!"

In the time it took to give this little address he had regained most of
his functional abilities, and now he rose and stood before me. His arms
enveloped me, an eager embrace that spoke of new and feverish energy
within him, and I responded automatically, pressing my body to his with
such fervor that it conformed perfectly to his. The heat of the passion
he had so long held restrained flowed into my body, driving me to
heights of love that I could not recall ever having felt before. This
man loves me, wants me, has waited for me and now is embracing me in a
way that has for so long been known to me only my dreams.

It was a long time, a very long time, before our bodies separated.
Neither of us wanted to end that timeless embrace, but we had places to
go.

"I'm...I'm not really sure I want to go anywhere now, but perhaps we
should. There's always afterward, isn't there?" He wasn't as articulate
as usual, and I enjoyed that. It was I who had shaken his usual fine
intellect, and he had done the same for me.

Our quivering hands slowly separated and he fumbled, with considerable
difficulty, for his keys.

"You don't think this dress is too revealing for the restaurant, do
you?" I hesitantly asked.

"Not at all. There will be more than a few ladies there with revealing
dresses. The difference will be that not one of them will fill them as
beautifully as you!"

"You devil, you! I replied, with pleasure. "I'll bet you say that to all
the ladies."

"It's been a long time since I had any other lady in my life. And the
wait has been worth it, I assure you." I could feel myself melting
inside, as if only the tiniest shard of the old iceberg remained and had
just disintegrated in the flame that had been kindled within us both.

Our arrival at the elegant restaurant Darren had chosen did not go
unnoticed. I was perfectly aware of many sets of appreciative eyes
sending fugitive glances my way, the men trying to take mental snapshots
of me without irritating their own partners. I saw no boorish leers and
it felt good, and I could see that Darren was getting a few from the
ladies. We women aren't quite as driven to look as men are, but we like
to get our share now and then, and Darren was indeed getting his.

The perky and courteous hostess showed us to our table, but I then saw
Darren whisper something to her. She then altered the plan and took us
to another table, one further in the corner and much more dark and
secluded. He wanted intimacy, and I was more than glad to accommodate
him. For a moment I wondered if he was becoming jealous, trying to
shield me from the other men there, but something told me that wasn't
the case. The obvious pride on his features as we had walked to this
table and the same message I could see as I made my way back to the
table after a routine trip to the ladies' room made that impossible.

"Have I told you lately that I love you?" That's the name of a
country-and-western song isn't it? But it was also a question that
needed an answer.

"Just tell me again, Darren. And again, and again..."

"Well, I most certainly do. And I'm proud to have you beside me. Not
just your loveliness, not just your sexiness, but there's a radiance to
you that I've never seen before, something from within I just can't
describe. And that's what I like the best."

The liberation was complete. The iceberg was history. From now on this
woman was *all* woman - unfettered and unbridled. Darren had yet to
experience the full impact of the change, but it wouldn't be long.

I felt wild, wicked, ready for anything. And as we waited for our orders
to arrive, a crazy, wild urge struck me. I fought it for a few moments,
unsure of what the consequences might be. But realizing the seclusion of
our table, I knew I wanted to do it.

"Darren, love..." There was a trace of hesitation in my voice, but only
a trace.

"Yes?"

"I want you to unhook my bra."

He shook his head in that particular manner that suggests one doesn't
exactly believe he's heard what he thinks he's heard.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. It's dark here. Only you will see."

"Yes, I know, but do you really..."

"Yes I do. For you."

I put on my sweater to hide the action and leaned forward. The action
dispelled any doubt in his mind that I meant what I had said, but he
still hesitated. Then I felt his fingertips on the clasp of the bra, and
I noticed they were shaking. The years of celibacy had made this almost
new to him; he was like a 17-year-old getting his first taste of a
girl's sexual urges.

I tried to make the action as unobtrusive as possible, and eventually he
got it loose. I pulled it out of the dress and put it in my purse, then
removed the sweater. Darren's eyes were again wide with amazement as he
looked upon the woman who so recently had learned to love him.

As I said before, when I lean forward with that dress, my breasts are in
plain view. I was positioned so they were hidden by the table from
whatever part of the assembly there might be looking and able to see in
the dim light, but not from my ever-more surprised lover. He gazed
longingly at my fully-revealed breasts for the few moments before I
straightened up, drawing the thin, almost diaphanous fabric over them.
Darren again shook his head slightly, as if awaking from a dream.

"You have the sexiest breasts of any woman alive!" he breathed.

"Oh, I'm sure there are a few you haven't seen yet," I responded,
playfully.

"And I don't care if I ever do. I don't know what's gotten into you,
Carole, but whatever it is, I hope it never gets out."  I felt a shudder
of pleasure flow through me at his words.

The prime rib was exceptional and I tried to temporarily put aside the
passion that had overtaken me. I only succeeded partially. Darren also
seemed to be hurrying slightly through his meal, which was clearly as
wonderfully prepared as mine. It was easy to see where our minds were.

When it came time to leave, I felt a twinge of apprehension. While
removing my bra had seemed like such a crazy, sexy thing to do in our
dark corner, I didn't feel quite like I should put it back on, yet the
walk to the front door and the repetition of the barrage of fugitive
glances in the brighter light made me distinctly uncomfortable. Darren
seemed to sense this and yet didn't want me to be tempted to run to the
ladies' room to put the bra back on. Anyway, the trip there wasn't all
that much shorter than the one to the front.

Wordlessly, he gently took my hand and I arose for our departure. I
could feel my now-unfettered breasts sway and a glance at a mirrored
wall opposite us told me that my nipples could hardly have been more
prominent if I'd put Christmas-tree lights on them. I tried vainly to
locate any other woman there with a dress as revealing as mine, trying
to determine if the precedent had been established for such a thing. I
found none.

"What are you waiting for, my love?" Darren's voice bore no impatience;
he just seemed a bit uncertain as to why I was taking so long to move.

"I'll explain later," I said, and steeled myself for the trip through
no-man's land - or perhaps I should say, every-man's land, since I felt
that every man alive would have his gaze glued to my swaying breasts and
full, excited nipples.

Then it occurred to me! In my concern, I had completely forgotten the
sweater. I reached to put it on, but Darren by then had figured out what
my concern was and softly asked if I would leave it off. The option was
mine, but somehow his request seemed compelling. I felt safe with him,
and somehow knowing he was there beside me and wanted me to look this
way shook my resolve. For a few moments I tried to ignore him and put
the sweater on, but after just a little uncertainty, I smiled and
relented.

I walked with deliberate slowness and smoothness to try to keep the
swaying of my breasts to a minimum and it seems that it was the best
compromise. The momentary glances seemed a little more eager; I'm not
sure if that was a fact or merely my imagination. Regardless, by the
time we had reached the front door, the apprehension had dissolved
completely, replaced by a new edition of that wicked craziness that had
grown so steadily in me over the past several days. I had *enjoyed*
being that revealed, that sexy, and I hoped it would happen again.
Darren had not even become aware that I wore nothing under the dress,
and I decided to make that apparent soon.

When we reached the car he opened my door for me in typical gentlemanly
fashion, but I deliberately waited to get in until he had gotten his
door opened. When he had taken his place, no doubt wondering at my
hesitation, he was looking at me. I then entered, ceremoniously taking
my place, but also, as naturally as I could, moving my left leg over and
upward.

The new look of shock, not much different from the one I had seen when
he first saw me coming off the stairs, took over his visage. I had
succeeded! He was getting a flash of my pussy, while I pretended not to
notice. Trying to prolong the show for as long as possible without
seeming obvious about it, I feigned some kind of hangup with my dress,
as if it had become caught on something, and fussed with the nonexistent
problem for a few seconds before settling into the normal position on
the seat. I was more than pleased to see his hands again shaking and his
look of amazement once again yield to one of pleasure.

He didn't have to conceal his observation; my decision to go panty-less,
he realized, was no accident. And he quickly saw through my little ruse.

"Carole, you are..." he tried to be delicate about it, "you are lovely
in places I never imagined I'd ever see."

"You like that, don't you? I did it just for you. Do you think it's kind
of wild for me to go without panties where only you would know?"

"Yes, indeed. And I'd like you to do that again, sometime when I'll know
beforehand."

"Consider it done, my love. But let's not spend the whole night in this
parking lot."

In his state of mind he had totally neglected to start the car. That was
quickly remedied and we were soon back in the living room of my home.
Lori was over with a friend that night, and she knew exactly why. She
had given me a sly smile when I asked her to find other accommodations
for the night; she know this was Darren's evening and the agenda was no
secret to her.

I excused myself and practically ran for my bedroom. I quickly removed
the dress and selected the neglige I had set aside for the purpose. It
was black again (I like black), as clingy and teasing as anything ever
manufactured. I reveled in the feel of it, seeing the way it showcased
my nipples, hugged my waist and obscured my most private regions just
enough to tease, but not enough to hide.

"Ready or not, here I come!" I called down to Darren, noticing the
double-entendre in the phrase.

Again I descended the staircase slowly, but this time there was no
nervousness. I strode to him, swaying my hips and setting my breasts in
motion. Even with all the revelations he'd already seen that night, he
still seemed stunned. But not for long. In a moment he had swept me in
his arms, leaned me back like a skilled dancer (which he was), and then
led me in a quick pirouette. The romance in the man was such a wonderful
prelude to sex that I could not ever recall such style, not even in my
former husband.

He then lifted me in his arms and almost effortlessly carried me up the
stairs. When he had returned me to my feet, I kissed him, a hungry,
determined kiss, one that locked us together in a way the presaged the
union that I knew was about to follow. As our lips met, I began tugging
at the buttons of his shirt, quickly removing it and casting it aside.
Breaking away from his sweet mouth, I descended to his pants, fighting
the urge to divest him of them as quickly as I could, and instead
heightening the anticipation with deliberate slowness.

When the zipper had been drawn all the way down, I kissed his swollen
member through his shorts and felt the ripple of pleasure pass through
him. My restraint was becoming much more difficult and I had soon pulled
down his pants and shorts. He quickly cast them aside.

I was no longer holding back. I practically dragged him to the bed,
pushing him gently onto it. I then stood beside him, that wicked grin
again taking over my face, and slid the thin shoulder straps down my
arms. For a moment I pretended that I would go no further, but then I
began twisting my torso slightly, setting my breasts in motion. With
just a little help, that movement slid the filmy fabric down, down, ever
further down my breasts, and then, for the first time, the man I loved
got a full, frontal view of them. I cupped them with my hands, tweaking
the nipples slightly, before beginning a new set of undulations, this
time of my hips, to slip the garment further down.

The swell of my hips held it in place for quite a while, but soon the
neglige fell to the floor and I stepped, completely nude, out of it and
lay on the bed beside my sweet lover.

Just for fun, I briefly placed my fingers on his carotid artery and felt
the frantic drumbeat of his heart. My seduction had worked, and he was
eager for me. The party with Rob and Lori had begun the process, but
this was different - far different. What I felt for this man transcended
mere sex; it was a union of spirits, minds and hearts. I felt his
devotion that had revealed itself over the years we'd spent together,
and finally I was free to return it, in kind and in spades.

He pressed gently on my shoulder, indicating that he wanted me to lie on
my back. Once again our lips joined, and for reasons that became clear
to me a few minutes later, he refrained from touching my breasts, or any
other part of me. I didn't mind; I knew what would follow and I was
quite willing to let him orchestrate the sexual symphony.

His lips slipped from my mouth to the side of my neck and I felt both
their soft, tingling sensation and the brush of his rapid breath against
it. The combination, and the pleasures they promised, brought the fire
within me to a whole new peak, and my hands began drawing at his back,
drawing him toward me.

But he had other plans - delicious ones. As his lips slowly descended
from my neck to my shoulders, his fingertips traced the side of my
chest, teasingly avoiding my breasts. I yearned to feel them there and
his teasing delay amplified the yearning. Slowly, agonizingly slowly,
his sweet lips moved from my shoulders and toward my engorged nipple.
His hands finally changed course to meet them and then I finally felt
the realization of my yearning as his lips encased my nipple while his
hand cupped and massaged my breast. Moments later I felt the other hand
ministering to the other breast, tweaking the nipple, and I was lost. So
many men are unaware, or unwilling to respect, the way a woman's
excitement builds slowly, but Darren was an expert at it, not only in
his learning but in his devoted willingness to restrain his own urges
and devote his attention to me. How did I deserve such a man? How could
I have for so long mistreated him, not only sexually but in so many
other personal ways, and then be enjoying such loving attention now?

But those concerns melted quickly in the excitement of the moment. I
reveled in the attention he gave my full breasts, and a glance at his
rigid cock told me that the pleasure was most definitely not one-sided.
With gradually increasing ardor, he sucked on my nipples, trying to
sense the precise degree of intensity to give them (that can change for
a woman, particularly depending on her time of the month). Again, he
showed skill that you don't learn in a classroom, but from the heart.

The attention to my breasts and nipples had so occupied my fevered mind
that I had barely noticed that his palm had slowly moved its way between
my legs. But the moment his fingertip found my clitoris I became sharply
aware of the fact. Building on the intense arousal he had already
kindled in me, the contact was a shock wave, one of intense pleasure,
that began at that little point and radiated through me like the waves
that expand from a stone thrown into a placid lake. My hips bucked
involuntarily, and I saw the pleasured smile on his lips as he saw how I
responded. Quickly he brought his face to my eager vulva, teasing and
massaging my clit and lips with his dancing tongue while I instinctively
reached for his cock, tracing its length with my fingers and then
stroking it more ardently, at one point so much so that he had to signal
me with his hand to relax a little if the delights that awaited me were
not to be spilled on the sheets instead.

Continuing his lingual attentions, he reached inside me, seeking my
G-spot. It wasn't long before he found it, and my reaction made it clear
to him that he had. I momentarily wondered if the neighbors would hear
my cries of pleasure, but it wasn't about to waste much time on that
issue. Darren tenderly played with me, easily finding my most sensitive
points by my reactions, and then, at just the right time, he began
thrusting his fingers quickly. I felt an incipient orgasm on the way, a
deep, consuming one, and he continued to increase the pace until it
struck, blinding me in its intensity.

I could hardly find my breath and the fluids I forced from my body
suddenly made a sloshing noise as he slowly reduced the pace. I was
embarrassed by this, but he soothing told me that he was very pleased
that I could have felt such pleasure. And I most certainly had.

I was ready. Oh my God, I was ready! I drew him to me, unwilling to wait
another moment, and my opened legs were the gateway to what I needed and
craved. He placed himself there, that magnificent instrument poised, and
as he gave me a tender kiss, I felt it touch my lips and then penetrate
my body.

Oh, how that union felt! It had been years, long frigid years, since
anything like it had occurred, and I was sure that never had I
experienced it with such passion, after such loving and expert
preparation!  His smooth, beautifully-timed strokes filled my womb with
ecstasy. He was a bit larger than usual - seven inches, I was later to
learn - but I could not have asked for, or dreamed of, a more satisfying
cock. He knew to vary his strokes and the practice from his earlier
marriage and perhaps other things seemed to give him a staying power
that I admired.

In a while he had turned me over, entering me from behind. He penetrated
deeper in that position and the new-found touches within were forcing
yet another climax from me.

"I...I'm gonna come!  I'm gonna come, Darren! Don't slow down - don't
stop!"  The words emerged in desperate gasps, each one, it seemed,
interrupted by the need to take a deep breath.

I don't know how he did it - he must have known just what he could do
and what would be too much - but he managed to accelerate, smoothly and
distinctly, triggering the delicious sensation of building to climax,
suddenly exploding in that exquisite sensation.

"Oh, I can feel it! I can feel you pushing it all out of you! So warm,
so exciting!" I knew that I was driving my juices out, around the base
of his wonderful cock, and his words excited me further.

I collapsed on the bed, my gelatinous legs no longer able to hold me up.
It wasn't over, not by a long way, but I needed just a moment to gather
my strength. I was soon on my back, begging for him to enter me again,
and he eagerly complied. Once again my hips bucked and thrust against
his and I knew he wouldn't last for long. He would recover, but for now,
I knew only this time, as if it were the culmination of the sexuality of
an entire lifetime. In breathy gasps he told me his time was coming and
I moved faster, ever faster, feeling yet another climax of my own on the
way. As it passed through me I could again tell that I was bathing the
base of his cock in my warm fluids, and I knew there would be time for
at least one more. They were coming in waves, and twice again I felt my
body erupt before it was his time.

"Now, now, love!"

I automatically burst into a frantic thrusting of my hips and I saw his
eyes glaze over as the beginnings of his orgasm struck him. I felt his
own quick strokes suddenly slow to very long, very deep, very powerful
ones, and in moments his seed sprayed into me. I could feel it, so
powerful was his climax! I could feel his jism enter me as my own
movements went wild. Our groins were meeting with jackhammer intensity;
he emitted a deep, resonant groan of pleasure and then, ever so slowly,
began to decelerate. Our movements took on a new, slower rhythm, not as
wild but nevertheless as sweet as any that had gone before.

Darren collapsed upon me, nestling his head beside mine. He stayed
inside me for a very long time, and I liked that. It was as if he wanted
never to separate from me and I felt the depth of his love for me in
that. I loved him; I love him; I will love him forever! Whatever it
takes, I will learn to please him, to devote myself to him, to make him
want to be part of my life, as I must be part of his. All these thoughts
flowed through me as his increasingly flaccid cock remained inside me
and his embrace continued unabated. I knew that his feelings for me were
exactly what mine were for him, and the blessed essence of our union
settled upon me as I began to dream...

 ***

More to come!--


Double for Nothing!!  Tricks for Free!!!

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