Jennifer s Journey Becoming the Perfect Housewife Part 4
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Jennifer's Journey -- Becoming The Perfect Housewife, Part 8 free porn video
Jennifer's Journey - Becoming the Perfect Housewife, Part 8
Two Calls on A Tuesday Night
Sarah and I were spending a quiet evening at home on Tuesday. We had
enjoyed a nice dinner together and I had finished cleaning up the dishes.
The two of us were sitting at the table in the bedroom where I usually
serve Sarah her breakfast while I did Sarah's nails. The phone rang.
"Bear a dear and get that, would you?" Sarah said, wiggling her wet nails
to demonstrate that she was incapable of getting the phone herself.
I answered the phone. "It's for you," I said to Sarah. "It's Dr.
Roberts. Again."
I carefully placed the phone on Sarah's shoulder where she could pin the
phone to her ear without using her hands. I went back to work on her
nails as she talked.
"Oh hello, Jake. What a nice surprise." Sarah was all smiles.
I really wasn't trying to listen in on her call, but I was right there,
so what could I do? It seemed to me that Dr. Roberts had been calling
pretty often lately. After the first couple of times he called, I asked
Sarah if she was alright, wondering if perhaps there was some health
issue she hadn't told me about. "No silly, I'm fine. Dr. Roberts is a
new client of mine, remember?" she explained. I guess that made sense,
but Sarah's other clients hardly ever called her at home.
"Oh that would be lovely," I heard Sarah say. "No, this really isn't a
good time to talk."
Sarah listened for a few moments, giggled a bit at something Dr. Roberts
must have said, then replied, "That's just fine. I'm looking forward to
it. I'll see you then. Bye-bye."
That was my signal to take the phone from her shoulder and hang it up.
"So what was that all about?" I asked. My tone no doubt somewhat
accusatory.
"Keep your panties on, Jenny," Sarah replied. "Jake is taking me to
lunch tomorrow at the River Edge Caf?. Doesn't that sound delightful?"
It certainly did, except that I wasn't going and Sarah would be with Dr.
Roberts. The River Edge Caf? was the trendiest, most expensive
restaurant in town and it was impossible to get reservations there. I
tried to let it go. I knew Sarah often had lunch with her clients. But
still?
"Come on, help me figure out what to wear," Sarah said excitedly. She
grabbed my wrist and I found myself being dragged into her enormous walk-
in closet.
Part of me wanted to pick out something ugly for her to wear but I
realized that that part of me is pretty weak. Sarah selected a little
black Donna Ricco dress from Nordstroms. She knew she looked great in
that slinky little number.
"I see you're dressing to impress," I said dryly.
"Well it's not everyday that a girl gets invited to the River Edge."
Sarah wasn't picking up on - or at least not reacting to - my unease with
her lunch invitation.
Later that evening, already in my nightie and halfway through my face
cleaning routine, the phone rang again. I figured it was probably Dr.
Roberts again, so I let Sarah answer it. "Jenny, it's for you. It's
Mark," Sarah called to me from her office.
My heart started pumping fast. Why was he calling? And why did Sarah
have to pick up the phone? I was sure there would be embarrassing
questions from her later about the call. The last thing I wanted to do
right then was to talk to Mark.
"Hello?" I said quietly into the phone in the bedroom. I heard the click
as Sarah hung up the other extension.
"Hi, Jennifer. It's Mark. How are you?"
"I'm OK." I couldn't think of anything else to say.
Realizing that that was all he was getting, Mark continued after a second
or two. "Great! Look Jenny, I'm really sorry about Friday. I think I
upset you and I feel bad about that. I wanted to apologize for making
you feel uncomfortable." If nothing else, Mark certainly was sincere.
"That's alright. I admit that you startled me, but I'm not upset. I
guess I should be flattered," I conceded.
"Great. I was really hoping you'd say that. So, are you still my
client?"
"I guess so," I couldn't hide the hint of a giggle in my voice. This guy
was so disarming.
"And are you still my lunchmate?" he asked. I could hear the smile in
his voice.
"Your 'lunchmeat'? No, I definitely am not your 'lunchmeat.'" It was my
turn to have some fun. "But you are welcome to stay for lunch on Friday
if that's what you're asking."
That got a big laugh. We chatted and laughed for several more minutes,
and I felt a pang of sadness when he said goodnight. Suddenly, I
couldn't wait for Friday to come.
Sarah was standing in the bedroom doorway. I hadn't noticed her there
and had no idea how long she'd been listening to my call.
"Sounds like we both have big lunch plans this week," Sarah said with a
smile. I could tell from her eyes that she was ready for bed, but not
ready to go to sleep, if you know what I mean.
She stripped off her clothes and left them in a pile in the middle of the
floor. She then sat down, naked, on the edge of the bed in front of the
mirrors. I knew what that meant. I fell to my knees in front of her and
began to work away at her with my lips and tongue. She placed one hand
behind her on the bed to keep herself propped up. Her other hand was
behind my head, keeping me in place and pulling hard into where she
wanted my mouth to be. I knew she was watching the show in the mirrors
and she was getting wetter and louder by the minute.
When she had had enough, she pulled me up onto the bed. I slipped on a
condom and let Sarah ride me for a while. Her moans were softer and
calmer now as she enjoyed the gentle massage of my "Little Princess"
inside of her.
"Is my little sissy-wife enjoying this?" Sarah asked breathily, staring
hard down into my eyes, her eyes penetrating deep into my soul.
"Of yes, yes. I am enjoying this. You know I am. You make me feel so
good, " I answered back.
"And does my lovely little sissy-wife want to cum inside of me?" Sarah
asked.
"Oh yes. Oh please. You get me so excited I need to cum. Please let me
cum inside of you." Sarah's voice was driving me over the edge.
"But have you been a good girl? If you want to cum in me you have to
promise me you've been a good girl."
"I'm always good," I panted. "I'm always good for you."
"Really? You promise? And you'll be a good girl for me forever?"
"Oh yes, Sarah, yes. I promise. I'll be a good girl for you forever.
And ever."
"Then cum inside me now."
I did.
Wednesday
Wednesday morning came quickly. Between Mark's call and Sarah's lunch
plans, I had trouble falling asleep. But I got up at 5:30 like I do
every Wednesday morning when my alarm went off.
Wednesdays are usually my big cleaning days. Sarah is almost always out
of the house (and certainly would be today) so it worked well to take
care of some big chores on these days. My plan today was a top-to-bottom
cleaning of the upstairs bathrooms, including all the cabinets and
shelves.
But first I liked to get some exercise on Wednesday mornings doing a
workout in the basement "rec room" using the DVDs Sarah had gotten for
me. I really enjoyed my collection of exercise outfits, which had grown
to an entire drawer full of leotards, tights, yoga pants, tank tops and
sports bras. Depending on the workout I selected, I might wear girls'
sneakers (with anklets with those pom-poms on the back) or else I might
wear ballet slippers. And I loved watching my reflection in the floor-
to-ceiling mirrors that lined two walls of the "rec room" as I did my
workout.
When I was done, I showered and dressed, did my make-up and hair, and
then prepared Sarah's breakfast. Sarah had asked that I wake her at
8:30, which was later than usual, so I had plenty of time to do
everything. I brought Sarah her breakfast and we discussed my big
bathroom cleaning project and her schedule for the day. Her plan was to
go into the office around 10:30 before leaving for the restaurant at
12:30.
She took her shower and I helped her get ready. She slipped on some
incredibly sexy little black underthings, including a garter belt with
seamed stockings - Wow! She put on her jewelry including some pretty
sparkly earrings that I didn't recognize. I then did her make-up,
including a bronze shadow over her pretty dark eyes and I gave her pouty,
glossy burgundy lips. She asked me to try pinning her hair back on one
side and it really looked great. I guess she wanted to show off her
earrings.
She poured herself into her Little Black Dress and slipped on a pair of
sexy Jimmy Choo sling backs. She looked stunning. Every head in the
restaurant would turn when she walked in. And everyone in the office
would notice too. What would they be thinking, I wondered. Nobody came
to work looking that glamorous and sexy. She's just meeting a client for
lunch I kept repeating to myself.
I helped Sarah find the right purse to go with her outfit and she was all
set. She gave me a quick air kiss, not wanting to muss her perfect make-
up, and grabbed her coat.
"Have a nice time," I said softly as she headed out the door.
I stood at the window, watching her car pull out of the driveway, feeling
very uncomfortable with what was going on.
But when her car was gone from view, it was time to change into my "big
cleaning" clothes and I got to work. The project was bigger than I
planned. I had to empty out all the cabinets under the sinks to really
clean them out. I put on my yellow rubber gloves and, on my hands and
knees, I scrubbed the insides of the cabinets with scouring powder and
hot water.
I also did the same for the medicine cabinets as well. As I was going
through these cabinets, I made a surprising discovery. In the medicine
cabinet in the hall bathroom (not the master bath that we usually use)
there was a container of birth control pills. That's odd. I had thought
that Sarah had been off the pill since shortly after we were married when
she asked me to start wearing a condom. Maybe it was an old
prescription. No, the expiration date on the package was still well into
the future. When did Sarah start taking the pill again? I put the
package of pills back in the cabinet and resolved to ask Sarah about it
later.
Around 4:00, Sarah returned home from her lunch. She kicked off her
sexy, spiky shoes and collapsed into a chair. She reported that the
restaurant was "heavenly" and that she had a "wonderful time." She
didn't offer more details and I didn't press. I had planned a nice
dinner for the two of us, but Sarah said she was too full from lunch and
simply too tired, so she headed straight up to the bedroom. When I came
up later to check on her, she was fast asleep.
Date Night
On Thursday afternoon, Sarah met me as usual after the girls at the
salon had finished with me. My hair was getting lighter and lighter with
every visit. But I did look nice and Sarah showered me with compliments
and we were off for our "date" to the Old Watermill Inn.
Over dinner, Sarah couldn't stop talking about the previous day's lunch:
how elegant the restaurant was and how wonderful the food was and so on.
She did go out of her way to say how pleased she was with the job I had
done on her hair and make-up, so that made me feel good.
Sarah also asked me about Mark. I had somehow avoided too many questions
up until this moment on what happened last Friday. I let Sarah know that
Mark had been a "little flirty" with me, but added that I thought it was
all in jest and that he was just trying to make his hostess feel good.
"Maybe," Sarah said. "Maybe not."
I had planned to ask Sarah about the birth control pills I had found, but
like the sissy I am, I was too timid to raise the topic.
Friday
Friday morning required all the usual preparations, including getting up
early to get most of lunch ready. I made sure that the guest room shower
was all set with towels and supplies for Mark, and made the final
preparations for our sun-room-turned-spa by adjusting the curtains,
turning on the soft soothing music, putting our fresh towels and lighting
the scented candles.
I got myself ready by showering and making my skin as soft and pretty as
possible. I pulled on my "gaffe" and a pretty Anne Klein swimsuit with
some cut outs that were filled in with illusion netting.
I had decided to pick out my own after-massage outfit. I didn't ask
Vicki or Sarah for their input. If lunch with Mark was going to be a
regular thing from now on, I might as well let him see me the way I'm
most comfortably dressed around the house. I planned to wear a pretty
sleeveless dress in a black and white print. The bodice of the dress was
nicely fitted and a full, flowing knee-length skirt. The dress came with
a skinny patent leather belt that when cinched tight helped give me an
extra "wasp-ish" figure.
The massages were wonderful as always. Sarah was shameless and
practically screamed with pleasure at Mark's manipulations. My massage
was delightful. I had learned to become totally relaxed as Mark's hands
worked over my skinny; silky sissy body. After my massage I showered and
changed into my dress and did my hair and make-up.
When I joined Mark in the kitchen, he quickly wrapped up the call he was
on and put away his phone and appointment book. He stood up and walked
over to the pantry door where I was getting my apron from its hook. As I
started to tie my apron's bow, Mark said, "Let me do that for you." He
tied a neat, if a tad tight, bow behind my back.
I took some things out of the refrigerator. "How can I help?" he asked.
"Just don't get in my way," I replied with a smile.
"OK, Boss. I'll just watch the show."
And watch he did while I quickly stir fried some vegetables to go with
the poached salmon I was serving. I arranged two plates of food and
placed them on the counter. I then turned off the stove and started to
untie my apron. But as I started to turn away from the stove, I bumped
directly into Mark's broad chest. I suspect that he had positioned
himself there to ensure that I would collide into him when I turned
around.
I was startled and embarrassed bumping into him like that. "Oh! Excuse
m--," I started to say. But before I could get even these few words out,
Mark wrapped his strong arms around me and kissed me - on the lips.
Hard. And long. My brain couldn't keep up with what was happening. At
first I was too shocked to react. But then he came in for a second kiss.
It was then that I became aware of how his strong arms had imprisoned me.
His lips pressed against mine for a second time. I tried to squirm away
from his iron embrace but it was no use. I tried to shout, "No! Stop
that!" but my words were badly muffled by Mark's lips which were still
pressed against mine. Mark finally relented.
"Please, Jenny, please! Why are you fighting this? Why can't you just
give in. I know you want to. I really like you Jenny, I really do. I
think we could have a great time together, but you're going to have to
give me a chance."
I was speechless.
Mark looked deeply into my eyes and I suddenly my tummy felt funny. He
leaned in to kiss me again, more gently this time, and I let him do it.
I closed my eyes and felt myself floating. We held the kiss for a long
time. I became aware of how tightly Mark was pressing my body against
his chest, his strong hands on my back, no doubt feeling my bra straps
through my silky dress.
We just kept holding the kiss. And then I felt the tip of his tongue
tickle my upper lip. It was as if his tongue had just discovered a
secret latch, because on its own, instinctively, my mouth opened
slightly. Mark's tongue sensed its opportunity and it darted into my
mouth, exploring my teeth, my tongue. The sensation shocked me back to
consciousness. I broke away from Mark and his arms released me.
"Oh my," I gasped, placing a hand on the kitchen counter to steady
myself, as I was suddenly feeling terribly wobbly atop my high heels.
Mark took one of my arms and led me to a kitchen chair. I couldn't move
a muscle. "Just sit for a minute and let me get the plates," Mark said.
He brought the two plates over and poured me a glass of iced tea. I
noticed Mark was positively beaming.
"Oh my," I repeated weakly.
There didn't seem to be anything wrong with Mark's appetite as he dug
into the lunch I had prepared. After a few bites he said, "You really
should eat. It's delicious. You don't want it to get cold."
Slowly I picked up my fork and managed to eat several bites, but I
realized that I wasn't hungry at all. What did I just do? How did I
allow that to happen?
"Aw, come on. Cheer up. It wasn't that bad, was it?"
I couldn't suppress a smile when he said that. I even laughed a bit.
"No, I admit. It wasn't?hideous." I was laughing now.
"You sure know how to make a guy feel good." Mark was laughing now too.
The whole problem was what Mark had just said. His kiss and his embrace
wasn't bad. At all. In fact it felt incredible. I hate to say it, but
I think I actually saw fireworks.
We chatted fairly normally over the rest of lunch, but throughout the
rest of our meal, I felt Mark's leg pressed against mine under the table
- and I did nothing to move away or to make him stop. The feel of his
leg rubbing up against my stocking-clad knee was electric.
Before I knew it, it was 1:20 and it was time for Mark to go. And as we
said our good-byes at the door, Mark gave me one last kiss. A gentle
kiss on my lips. I couldn't help myself. I wrapped my slender arms
around his powerful neck and savored the feeling of his mouth pressed
against my soft, painted lips.
As he turned to leave, I noticed that my make-up had left a small smudge
on his clean white polo shirt. I pointed it out to him but he was
unconcerned. I would have to be more careful in the future.
He said good-bye. I could say nothing in return. I was literally
breathless.
After Mark's car had turned the corner and disappeared from view, I
regained my senses. I became aware of a distinct dampness in my panties.
Even though my "Little Princess" was still safely tucked away where she
was supposed to be, she had nonetheless managed to create a wet spot down
there. I went upstairs and stripped off my wet panties and pantyhose.
And as I did, my "Little Princess" sprang to attention, demanding that I
satisfy her immediately. My whole body was overcome with excitement. I
grabbed the tube of perfumed hand cr?me that I kept on my side of the bed
and squeezed a small dab into the palm of my right hand. With my left
hand I gathered up the full skirt of my dress up to my waist. I sat down
on the edge of the bed in front of the mirrors that Sarah had arranged
and quickly worked myself into a frenzy. I watched myself in the
reflection, very turned on by the show I was giving myself. I panted,
"Oh Mark. Ohh Mark, Ohhh Mark, Ohhhh God!" as I exploded into my
hand.
After I cleaned myself up and put on fresh panties and stockings, I tried
to get myself focused on the ironing I needed to get done. But it was
hard to concentrate. What was happening to me? Why was I finding Mark
so exciting? Where was this going to lead? And most ominously - what
would Sarah think if she knew? Would she leave me - or throw me out -
for cheating on her. With a man, no less.
That evening, when Sarah came home, I did my best to act as if nothing
was different, but I've always suspected that Sarah can see right through
me. Over dessert, Sarah said, "Oh Jen, I noticed that there were some
damp panties and stockings on the floor of the bedroom."
Oh shit! How could I have been so stupid? How could I forget to put
those things in the hamper? I was totally busted.
Sarah calmly continued while she ate her dessert, "On days when you think
you might have an issue with wetness down there, you might want to wear a
panty liner. I realized you didn't have any so I put a package of liners
in the cabinet under your sink. By the way, you did a lovely job
cleaning the bathrooms - the cabinets look great!"
"Uh, thanks," I mumbled.
And that was it. Sarah didn't confront me as to why my panties were
soaked. She didn't give me a hard time about it. Of course this might
also have been an opportunity to mention the birth control pills I found
while cleaning out the cabinets, but I was just so relieved that she
didn't press me about my panties that I didn't even think of confronting
her.
That evening, I checked under my sink, and just as Sarah had said, there
was my very own pink plastic package of "light day" panty liners.
Sarah's Busy Schedule
Between my chores and my schedule outside the house, I felt like I was on
the go almost all the time. On some days I wasn't even getting a chance
to take my afternoon nap.
I was also spending more time as Sarah's personal beautician. It seemed
that with each passing week, she was spending more and more time out of
the house. She was having many more lunch and dinner engagements that
she needed my help with her hair and make-up, to get her look just right.
A lot of her lunches and dinners took her to the Commerce Street Hotel, a
lovely old hotel with a very popular restaurant, The Trader, on the
ground floor. I was surprised that she was going there so much. The
Trader seemed a little crowded and noisy for a business lunch.
And while we were usually together on Thursday, Friday and Saturday
evenings, Sarah would typically have plans at least two and sometimes
more of the other nights. On those nights when Sarah had dinner plans, I
would change into my flannel nightgown early and make myself dinner. I
got in the habit of reading those silly romance novels while I eat. I
quickly learned that I only really enjoyed cooking when I was doing it
for someone else.
But even on the nights when Sarah went out, we still usually had a little
quality time together when we would cuddle in bed or maybe even play.
But I was beginning to feel a little lonely and neglected with Sarah
being out so much.
More Errands
When Tuesday morning came, it was hectic as always. I got Sarah out
early to the gym for her personal training session with Carlos and later,
when she got back, got her dressed and primped for the office and lunch
at the Commerce Street Hotel. I was just putting on my earrings,
finishing getting myself ready to leave for my session with Dr. Mitchell,
when Sarah came into the bedroom.
"Jen, before I forget. Do you mind doing a favor for me?" Sarah asked.
"Let me guess. Another pair of shoes to pick up."
"No. Dry cleaning this time. It's in Mayfair so it's on your way." She
held out the paper claim ticket. What was Sarah doing in Mayfair anyway,
I wondered.
"Do I have to? You know I hate running errands dressed like this in the
middle of the day. People will stare."
"Maybe they stare out of envy. Or desire," Sarah said with a grin.
"Besides, it's mostly your blouses that need to be picked up. Come on.
It's not that big a deal."
Of course, I gave in.
As I was about to leave, Sarah called after me, "One more thing. Could
you drop this dress off while you're at the cleaners. Thanks, sweetie!"
And with that, Sarah tossed me the little black dress she had worn to
lunch with Dr. Roberts.
And so I left the house knowing I was now committed to not one, but two
trips to the dry cleaners - one trip today and another next week to pick
up Sarah's LBD. And this became a new part of my routine. Sarah managed
to maintain a weekly - sometimes more frequent - need for me to go to the
dry cleaner or the shoe man or some other errand.
I really hated doing these errands. I hated the stares and whispers. I
hated being so exposed and alone. I thought, over time, I would get used
to it, but I never did. It was often frightening and sometimes
humiliating to be out like this. It was fine when people didn't notice
or if they made an effort to be extra nice realizing my situation. But
that wasn't always the case. It's not that I was called names or felt
that my safety was truly threatened. No. It was the smirks and giggles,
especially of younger woman who seemed to have particularly good radar
that would see right through me.
But I was simply too much of a sissy to tell Sarah that I wouldn't do
these things anymore.
End of Part 8
I sincerely hope you are enjoying Jennifer's ongoing story. I have
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Grace
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