The 40th Birthday Present - Chapter Two free porn video

The 40th birthday party - Chapter Two This is a continuation of The Birthday Party and it would be best to read Chapter One as this is not a free standing story. The party after the party Less than ten minutes later my wife appeared with a huge smile on her face. She came over to me and as I stood up she put her arms around me and said "Thank you for letting my plain Jane help you out, especially as it was such a surprising outfit." Then she planted a wonderful kiss on my lips, forcing her tongue on me - which is what I usually did to her. "Did you enjoy it?" "What?" "The party. Did you enjoy it?" "Oh yes, strange I thought you meant did I enjoy the outfit." A smile played on her lips as she mischievously asked. "Well did you?" "Not particularly, can you get me out of this corset, it's killing me." "All in good time lover, I want to have a little fun first." She squeezed my cock as she said this and my eyes lit up. "Does me dressed like this turn you on then?" "Not really, but having the control of letting you out of it does a little bit for me. Wait there whilst I slip into something more comfortable..." and she backed away from me then went upstairs to our bedroom. I waddled over to the drinks cabinet and poured myself a wine - didn't want to mix my drinks - then collapsed onto the sofa. Somehow the chair didn't seem big enough tonight. Flicking through the channels to distract me from the erection, it was the usual Saturday midnight rubbish - except for Later with Jools Holland and fortunately there was some decent music in among the usual experimental outfits. "Are you ready for this, Queenie?" I turned and Samantha had transformed herself into a raving sex goddess with various items I'd bought her over the years. She looked amazing in the thigh length black patent leather boots over the pink stockings, which in turn were held up by the pink leather basque. Her breasts almost spilled out of the cups and her hands were encased in soft leather gloves that went all the way up her arms and were attached to the leather collar. Her make-up had been altered too, much more dramatic, with dark eye shadows and thick eyeliner extending well past her eye line. The only hint of colour was on her lips, with a bright, glossy, sparkly pink that matched her outfit. Even her hair had been back combed, looking like the Bananarama girls did in the eighties. "Wow" was the pitiful noise that came out of my lips. "Time to earn your release Queenie." "Of course, whatever you want Samantha." I almost stuttered as I said this, meaning every word. "Be careful what you promise, you might just regret it." "Honey, I've been waiting for you to dress like this for years. Whatever it takes to get you to wear it again, it will be worth it." "Let's find out then, shall we? Lie on your back on that table." She instructed, pointing to our low coffee table. It was made from a solid lump of granite, so I wasn't concerned about it breaking, so in a flash I was face up on it. "Can you control yourself Queenie?" "If you want me to Samantha." "Let's make sure that you don't get too excited too early. Just in case..." She took my right wrist and tied a stocking around it, then had me sit up and tied the other end to my left wrist behind my back. Pushing me back down, which was now uncomfortable, she explained. "I want this to last, so you won't be playing with yourself to make you forget all about me after coming too quickly." Was this the same Samantha? Me coming too quickly? She usually pushed me of as soon as I'd finished. Watching her walk around me, I realised that she was glistening and really was enjoying herself. She lowered herself slowly onto my face, with her pussy straight into my mouth and her clit just about level with my nose. Needless to say my tongue came out. She raised herself as soon as I touched her, the wetness millimetres from my tongue as I strained to reach the honey pot. Naturally, my neck muscles could only last so long and eventually I sank back to the table, when she once more lowered herself to touching distance... Again, as soon as my tongue touched her, she raised up to just out of reach. When I sank back, she lowered herself very slowly, and I waited until I was smothered by her, hardly able to breathe, as soon as my tongue reached out - as much to make space for oxygen as anything - she ground herself onto me. Struggling for breath, I forced my tongue between her lips and my nose onto her clit and wiggled ferociously, but she simply ground lower and lower and I felt myself panicking as my breath wouldn't come, but more and more she forced herself onto me, squeezing her thighs onto the side of my head to ensure there was no escape. Just as I felt the blackness descend, she raised her body a fraction. My gasp must have been heard on the next street, as I sucked in the air, then without warning she was on me again, forcing her full weight onto me, her thighs squeezing my brain, my mind in overload as I wondered if this was her way of getting back at me for straying... Then she was up again... Another gasp... More pressure... More pain... More struggle... Another release & gasp... More pressure... How many times this was repeated I'm not sure, but suddenly her body was racking sideways and upwards and downwards and round and round and her legs were squeezing me and I realised she was digging her nails through the thick material into my stomach and then - through my gasps - I heard her screams, as she came like never before. Her movement and screams seemed to go on forever, but all I could do was breathe. Gasping to get oxygen into my system, my mind seemed to surface and as I felt like a drowning man breaking out of the surface, my head was forced under again, as she pushed down on me once more. This time, there was no stopping and as consciousness slipped away, there was no panic. Somehow I knew she was punishing me, but also I knew she was making sure I would remember everything about this and there was no way that I would be unfaithful again. Then nothing. After an eternity or a fraction of a second, I felt my penis being sucked. Unknown to me, it had adopted the worm configuration as I'd blacked out. No surprise there as all of my blood had been trying to get oxygen to my brain - and failing. But now, as consciousness slipped back, I felt her lips sucking like they've never done before. My head throbbed with lack of oxygen as my mind recovered some semblance of being. My prick hurt with the sheer force of her lips drawing the force out of me, yet it was gaining width and length and hardness as she continued to devour me. She moved quickly and impaled herself on me, riding like she was being pursued by Zorro. Then she stopped. Without coming off me though, she just stopped. I looked up at her smiling face. "Now that you satisfied me without satisfying you, I'm enjoying this. Can you last without coming before I do?" With my mouth as dry as it was and my head still throbbing, I only nodded. "Are you sure?" "Yes," I croaked. "You better be otherwise you will be eating what I am told is cream pie." What had happened to this woman I thought. She is suddenly behaving like the dominant woman I'd asked her to be, except this was way over the top compared to what I'd asked. She had started grinding again, slowly drawing me into her as she moved backwards, then pushing herself upwards and circling my tip with her lips before easing down again. Although this was clearly an incredibly sensual experience, I wasn't concerned about having to eat her out of my sperm as I'd come three times that night already and was not likely to come quickly. She was already breathing heavily and her eyes - which had begun to glaze noticeably - were now closed and her nails were beginning to dig into my groin area, just above my dick. Her movements were less controlled now as she thrashed about and squeezed my chest, nipples, stomach, groin, thighs and even my balls every now and then, although fortunately not too hard, as I reacted every time. As her orgasm took over, she flopped down onto me, nibbling my chest - including my nipples - painfully and this stopped the build up of my own orgasm. She continued moving for well over a minute, her loud moans eventually settling into cooing noises, then deep sighs. Then, a light snore. Or was it? Had she really fallen asleep on top of me? I kissed the top of her head, despite it being painful to reach forward and do so. Another sigh. Trying to get further up to wake her gently - after all this had been enjoyable so I didn't want to shock her awake as there was every chance she would never do anything like this again - I managed to reach the top of her cheek and began kissing it over and over again, despite the pain in my neck as I strained forward. She eventually moved and opened her eyes. Pulling herself up towards me, I felt my flaccid tool flop out of her, but she seemed not to notice as she smiled, kissed me fully on the lips, then slid her tongue inside and moaned as she explored my mouth. How long this went on I don't know, but I felt my headache disappear, especially as her hands were now at the back of my neck gently massaging the knots out of them. She stopped kissing with a sigh - although continued those ministrations to my neck - then oozingly said. "Why can't you ALWAYS last that long?" What could I say? If she let her plain Jane blow me three times before we had sex, then of course I'd last this long. Of course that is not what I said. "Perhaps it was you being in control that made sure I didn't lose control." "Is this one of your fantasies then? Being controlled by me whilst wearing girly clothing and not being allowed to come?" "No. Not the girly clothing, but the control was wonderful." "You seemed to be enjoying those clothes." "Not really, I enjoyed the way we managed to hide ourselves without being found out." "Are you saying you didn't enjoy the feel of suspender on stocking, the restriction of the corset, the swish of those skirts around your legs? Tell me that none of that had an effect on you." "Not really, the only thing I remember about the clothes is the pain of this corset and the unnatural position of those heels. Not a lot of pleasure, but just too much discomfort really." "Perhaps now you understand why I won't wear a corset then sweet cheeks." "But the corset is made for your shape, not mine!" I knew that I was pleading, but couldn't help myself. "Perhaps, but they still have to be laced tight to enhance the figure, they are not pain free for us real girls you know." A pause followed as I didn't really have an answer for that. Sensing an opportunity, I asked. "Could you untie my arms now and help me out of this outfit?" With a wicked smile and her left hand grabbing my penis, she replied. "Does this mean that you have had enough sex for one evening?" Feeling my erection beginning to return gave me the confidence to answer. "You know that you always turn me on and I did promise to do whatever was necessary to get out of this outfit. Are you satisfied, or do you want more?" "Well you have been VERY good and you did keep your ejaculation back just for me. Before I release you, it is time for your little reward. This time you can come as quickly as you want." My erection was almost fully there now, as she moved upwards to my face, never letting go, and even using her other hand to tease my balls. Once more her pussy was over my lips, although this time her rear rosebud was near my nose. She also did not press down on me and supported herself just enough above me to make breathing easy whilst still tonguing her beautifully swollen lips. Then she leaned forward and pulled my cock into her mouth. Next thing she did was a huge surprise. She pulled the French Knickers back up around my balls and began massaging them gently with the knickers. I must admit the feel of the silk was very enjoyable, and she continued to move upwards slowly with them as she began to wank me with the knickers. All the time her mouth continued its work on my upper penis, with the sensual part under the rim of the bulb having particular attention being paid to it. Her left hand continued to caress my balls with that beautiful material and her right was moving much faster up and down now, as she clearly wanted me to come soon. Whether I could have delayed any longer or not was irrelevant as I was desperate for release now and she clearly felt me beginning to ejaculate as she pulled her mouth away and covered my tip with the knickers, capturing all of my sperm as it finally oozed out. The feeling of the silk on my sensitised tip was fabulous and painful at the same time. Samantha had clearly enjoyed herself as well, but not to orgasm this time. She peeled herself off me, then helped me sit up to untie my wrists. As I rubbed some feeling back into them, she helped me to my feet and then began the process of helping me out of the dress. I felt many buttons being undone at the back and her help to loosen the buttons on the wrist was essential also, as they appeared to be too small for me to work one handed. She then lowered the dress and I stepped out of it. A quizzical look appeared on her face. "What?" I enquired intelligently. "You have gorgeous legs you know." "Why thank you." I replied, attempting a curtsey which only got her laughing - and me pulling up quickly as the corset reminded me of its constraints. Samantha began the process of untying and loosening the corset and I felt huge relief as this process continued. Once it was completely loose, she said. "I'm sure you can manage the rest. I'll go remove my makeup and get ready for bed, by which time you should be ready for me to help you take yours off." "What's wrong with washing it off?" Another old fashioned look came my way as she explained. "Jane almost certainly used her theatrical make-up on you which doesn't just wash off. You need specialist removers which I have upstairs so once you've disrobed and hung up the clothes, I'll see you upstairs." She did help me remove the make-up and even suggested that I might want to keep the wig on for the night and wear one of her nighties. Needless to say I declined this offer and we fell asleep in each others arms for the first time in years. Back to routine - or not... The following day was an extremely "normal" day off, with some work being carried out around the house, some in the garden and some on my laptop for setting up the Malaysian project. Since our early days of marriage we had clearly grown apart and it was very relieving to have those little touches we used to have... My hand caressing her lower back when we were looking out the window at something insignificant. Her lips on my neck when I reached for something in one of the tall cupboards. Holding hands as we sat enjoying a cuppa during a break from the normal everyday work that goes on in everyone's lives. Sadly, the feeling was shattered when we went to bed and Samantha cuddled me, but explained that she was too tired after last night's exertions to have any repeat performance. My boner did not settle down quickly as I lay beside her wondering if there would ever be a repeat performance. Work continued and after a similar excuse on Monday evening, Samantha surprised me on Tuesday night by rolling on top as I entered the bed, asking if I could last longer than her. "Only if you stay on top, I suspect." I could feel how wet she was, therefore guessed she had been masturbating whilst waiting for me to come to bed. She eased me easily inside her and I must have guessed right as within seconds she was tightening around me and losing her normal self control. Needless to say this sent me over the edge quickly and I emptied inside her in double quick time. She lay on top of me for some time, her weight not seeming to bother me as once more she fell asleep. This time though, I simply kept my arms around her and waited until I plopped out. Who cares about the mess, I thought. If this happens just twice per week I'll happily pay someone to come in and wash these sheets. As I headed out the door to work, Samantha shouted. "Don't forget to take Jane home tonight and that I'll be late. Jane promised to cook you dinner if you want." "Yes, sure, that's great. Tell her I'm looking forward to it." Shit, why did I say that? Samantha will definitely pass that comment onto Jane who will now think I'm looking forward to our little meeting, rather than her dinner. Later that day as I picked Jane up, her smug smile told me that she had indeed been informed of my comments. "Looking forward to it then are we? Is that the corset, the make-up, the dress or the heels? She smirked. "The dinner actually." I replied, trying too hard to be a bit dismissive. On entering her flat, she explained that she had a spare bedroom where she did most of her theatrical work and that she had rearranged it so that we could learn together there. Leading me into the room, there was a dressing table with lights on either side that was covered in various lotions and potions, powders and brushes, then a chest of drawers with unlit candles on top and a rack of clothing that were all very colourful. "Time to get your clothes off." "Couldn't we wait until after dinner?" "Oh no, the outfit I have in mind for you tonight is so outrageous you might just want to serve dinner yourself." Needless to say I groaned. "Now don't be like that, you agreed to the bet and lost, so why don't you just look at it as a learning experience. Not many men get the chance to experience life as a woman." "Not many of us want to." I retorted. "You'd be surprised." She said with an almost dreamlike expression on her face, then, after a short pause she continued... "Remember the conditions of the bet, you have to learn to do this yourself, so I'll leave you to it. If you need any help, let me know. There are instructions on that pad on the dresser." And she swept out of the room, leaving me to carry on. Like I wanted to do this. Then again, if it meant that she would get her sweet little mouth around me... Suddenly realising that this was not part of the bargain as she had won, I began to realise that I was expected to dress like a woman without getting relief. She really had got one over on me. Let's get on with it then. Remembering the discomfort of having the makeup put on with the corset already digging in, I decided to ignore her instructions to put the corset, stockings, heels and knickers on and moved to item four which was make-up. Following her instructions, I did a reasonable job and only had to remove the eye liner, mascara and lipstick a couple of times to repeat it properly. Next came the wig and then I decided to go back to the lingerie. Pulling the corset as tight as I could without it being painful, I them smoothed the stockings up my legs, pulled the knickers on, put the breast forms in the corset cups and put on the heels. Strangely, bearing in mind that the eye shadow was green, the lingerie and heels were all pink. Looking back at the list, Jane's next instruction was. 'Make sure your waist is corseted down to 28" or the dress will not fit.' Her tape measure was on the dresser so I took it around my waist and it stopped at 31. Never I thought. There is no way I can get another three inches off this waist. Realising that I had to try something, I reached behind and pulled some of the laces downwards to the middle (as I'd just pulled the laces and tied them off) and was surprised to find that this meant my waist could come in a little more. Next I did the same from the laces below the middle and once again, this allowed me to pull the waist in a little further. Tightening the laces as much as possible, I tied them off at the front and measured again. 29" this time. Well that was it, I was going to try this dress. Looking at the instructions, I was to open a dress bag that was hanging on the rack, marked "Wednesday". Humiliation upon humiliation. She was taking the mickey something seriously here. I now understood why the eye shadow was that garish green colour. In my hand was a bright, fluorescent green silk French Maid's outfit that probably won't reach my stocking tops ("My stocking tops." Where did that come from?). It also had a bright pink petticoat that was clearly designed to make the dress stick out at an amazing angle and portray the wearer as a willing and ready slut. Nevertheless I determined to get it on and not hang about too much. Needless to say it was perfectly fitted and I could not get the zip up past my waist. Swallowing my pride I walked over to the door, opened it and quietly asked. "Jane, would you mind coming in here to help me please?" "Why certainly, Queen." "Eh?" My response may not have been the most intellectually stimulating, but it did get exactly the correct sort of reaction from Jane that an intelligent, reasoned question about her referring to me as "Queen" would have done. "Whilst you are here, I'm going to call you 'Queen', but don't get above your station, it's just a name as you can't seriously expect me to call you Jason dressed like that." Without allowing me time for an answer, she continued. "Anyway, your corset isn't tight enough, I can see the gap at the back. You obviously didn't try hard enough. Take this dress down and we'll do it together." As I stepped out of the dress, I felt her hand touch the laces. I put the dress onto the dresser chair, then she said, give me your hands. Without thinking I put them round behind me and she showed me how to tighten the corset a little more by feel (I'd been looking in the dresser mirror). Jane instructed me how to breathe deep in my lungs, but force the air out of my stomach, to make it easier for the corset to be tightened. In next to no time, I found that the corset had indeed been closed at the back and, although it certainly bit in, it wasn't as tight as first time at the Halloween party. "Now try the dress." Pulling the dress on, the zip slid past my waist and I managed to get it all the way to the top without asking for further help. "Now let's sort that makeup." "Why, what's wrong with it?" "Look in the mirror." I did and she continued. "By putting your makeup on before we tightened your corset, you managed to screw your face up and create these lines at the side of your eyes. Let's start again and I'll watch." So we did. This time it took less time, but that was partially because of the extra little comments from Jane. "Sweep the brush upward at your cheeks." "Use this smaller applicator for your eye shadow." And other such gems. "Now stand up and we'll sort the dress out" "What is wrong with it?" "Nothing that a little fluffing won't solve." I now realised why the lingerie and heels were pink. The petticoats that were under the skirt were moved around, fluffed here, flattened a little there and very soon the skirt was sticking out at a ridiculous angle. She also produced a matching pink apron that she handed to me. Tying it round, I felt really ludicrous, but this was only added to when she provided the hat in matching green and pink, with long ribbons hanging down the back of my neck. "Look in this mirror Queen." Turning round, she had uncovered a full length mirror and I instantly recognised the ultimate sissy outfit, which had removed any semblance of masculinity from me. Still not pretty, I nevertheless looked very sheepish - perhaps even cute. Her smile at the side of my shoulder was one of satisfaction, not triumph and this pleased me in some way. Then she did something completely unexpected. Her hand went under my skirt and stopped on my erection. My erection! Her smile grew into a huge grin and she said. "I thought you didn't enjoy women's clothes." "I thought so to, but this is as surprising as it is overwhelming." "Turn sideways and keep looking at the mirror." She instructed. So I turned until my profile was in view and I admired my legs in the 4" heels, and noticed that my stockings and bust looked all woman, and my hair and ribbons looked incredibly sexy tumbling down my back. Her hand had not left my prick, then she knelt down, pulled down the panties and I watched in the mirror as her eyes never left mine, she took me inside her mouth. Her head disappeared beneath the mass of pink satin as she swallowed me, then she backed off - without her head ever reappearing - and tongued my bulbous head, the underside of my rim, in fact everything that she had done before. It did not take long before I exploded into her mouth and she swallowed everything, licking me clean, patting me down and putting me back inside those wonderful knickers, and eventually emerging from those frothy petticoats, smiling at me. "This could be more enjoyable than I thought..." "It certainly could." I replied. "Time for dinner though sweetie." She led me through to her main room where the table had been set, two candles on it, a small vase with flowers and the starter already set out. She sat at the head of the table and I went to sit at the only other place laid, but she stopped me saying. "On the rare occasions when you dress as my maid, you will have to adopt a different way of sitting. Instead of smoothing your dress under you as ladies normally do, you must fluff your petticoats and skirt up, so that you are sat with your panties directly in contact with the chair. In other words, make sure you do NOT have any part of your dress or underskirts under your bum. Also, to make sure that the dress and petticoats do not get bunched at the back, you must sit on the edge of the chair, almost as though you are about to fall off." I sat, doing what she described and felt the cold chair on my bare legs above the stockings, as well as through the thin panties, then realised I must be too close to the back and slid forward to avoid the bunching. She said a grace, making sure that I lowered my head "like a lady should, whether she is a believer or not" then we ate the smoked salmon. At the end of the course, she instructed me on how to remove the plates, taking them over to her scullery and loading them into the small worktop dishwasher. Next I was instructed in how to bring the stew out of the oven and onto the table, then dish it out whilst still standing (Jane was still sat of course) and then sit, fluffing my skirts out again. Meanwhile the seat had grown cold again. Same thing with desert, although the portions both appeared small to me, yet I found it difficult to eat with my restricted waist. Toasting me with wine, Jane finished the meal by saying. "Here's to my maid's first experience of serving. It's not often that a 'Queen' wears a maids outfit and looks so cute in it. Thank you for participating so well without complaining - too much". Not sure if there was anything to say, I simply waited. "Time for Queen to go and Jason to come back I think." Jane said, then went on. "Will you admit to getting just a teensy bit of pleasure from wearing these clothes?" Hesitating, I thought. Do I get pleasure from wearing these clothes? My erection told me that I did, but I wasn't sure why. So nodding, I explained. "For some reason I do get aroused by wearing these clothes, but I don't understand why. It just turns me on." With that she stood up, reached for my hand and asked me to stand. I did so and was led to a stool where she asked. "Do you trust me?" My reply came easily. "Standing in front of you with this outfit on, I think I have already given you plenty of trust. Of course I trust you Jane." "Sit down then, please." I sat, then Jane proceeded to use a very soft ribbon to tie each hand to the bicep of the other arm, behind my back, I began to wonder if there was some collusion between Jane and Samantha - but dismissed it out of hand. She then pushed my legs apart and I realised that this stool was a little deeper than normal as she tied my right ankle to the outside of the leg. Repeating this with the left, she then put a night mask over my face. Her hands then guided me as she took me on a journey of discovery down my body. Every word she used to describe a part of my body was matched by her hand touching that part of my body, very gently, yet definitely there. Her voice was so soft, so very, very slow and amazingly sensuous as she began. "I want you to feel all the materials that are covering your body right now. From the hair tickling the back of your neck, through the ribbons falling onto your bare back, then the satin of your dress clinging to your shoulders and upper arms, smoothing down to the tightness of your corset, cupping your breasts as they rise and fall with each breath you take, squeezing your waist into that delightful tight figure that is yours, encompassing your hips and connecting to your soft, soft stockings that then disappear into your tight high heels giving your calves that gorgeous look." Her hands stopped on the outside of my right shoe, then she was speaking so softly. "As my hands slip back up your stockings, think of the swish of your petticoats on your thighs between the tops of your stockings and the bottom of your silk panties. Feel the gentle tug of your suspender as it pulls between your deliciously constricting corset and your smooth, sensuous stockings." Silence as her hands slowly moved upwards, gently caressing the front of my stocking clad leg and working their way round behind to my calves. Tickling the back of my knees, then continuing to pulse along the tops of my thighs, reaching the top of my stockings and fluffing my petticoats gently, smoothly, erotically over my skin. Skimming back into the centre of my "v" where I know there should be a smooth, slim vagina, but instead her hands rest on my hard, eager cock and it instantly bursts forth its load, filling the silk panties with my jism. Never before have I come with being touched for the briefest of seconds. Never before had I heard such sensuous talk. Never before had I felt such a lascivious voice. Meanwhile, as my breathing began to get back to normal, Jane's mouth was covering the panties, sucking my come through it and swallowing as much is she could get. This obviously did not satisfy her as she peeled the panties back and took my softening member into her mouth and cleaned it deliciously, seemingly lapping every part of the juice that she could get. Tucking me away inside the panties, she emerged from under my skirts and began untying me, leaving my hands to last. Once the last hand had been released, I hesitated before taking the night mask off, wondering just how embarrassing I would feel. I need not have worried. Jane was behind me by now and simply slid the mask up, saying. "Off you go Queen, all of the correct makeup remover is on the dresser and there are fresh towels in the bathroom if you want to have a shower." And that is exactly what I did. Went through to the spare room, took off my makeup first, took off the wig, then the shoes, dress, stockings, knickers and finally the corset. Yet this time, I regretted taking the corset off. It seemed to have become part of me and as I removed it, I brought it round in front of me and held it close, as though it were some form of precious metal, or a cuddly toy for a child that ensures everything in the world is good. Having a shower seemed a sensible idea as I didn't want the smell of come to be on me as I arrived home. Re dressing in my suit and tie, I kissed Jane on the cheek and said. "Thank you. It seems you may know me better than I know myself." Smiling back, she answered. "You're welcome, but I don't know you - yet. But maybe we will get to know the real you." Developing feminine feelings On returning home, Samantha was not back yet and when she did she was in a foul mood, so I simply offered her some wine before doing an hour's work on the project. This meant that the email would be in Malaysia in time for them getting into work. What did surprise me was that Samantha did not even ask about Jane. Usually she was very interested in her mousy little assistant, but not tonight. Needless to say, she was not interested in any sex that night - which kind of relieved me. Nor the next night or Friday, but Saturday was a different story. Waking up on Saturday morning - it is wonderful without that alarm - Samantha was already awake and smiling at me. "Hi gorgeous." I said. "Hi yourself." "What do you want to do today?" I asked. "Tie you to the bed and frustrate and mount you whilst I satisfy myself." "Can I go to the loo first?" "No, I will help you out with everything today. Give me your left hand." I did and she wrapped a large ribbon round my wrist, tied it off and dropped it out of sight at the side of the bed. She did the same to my right wrist and my ankles. The duvet was on the floor and my member was proud for all to see. Samantha then tied the other ends of the ribbon to some hidden points and then sat on my penis. Now it is unlike a man to NOT go to the toilet as soon as they waken, so you can imagine what I was like. There was no way I was coming as I desperately wanted to pee, so Samantha simply rocked herself gently on my member, pressing on my bladder occasionally and smiling at my obvious discomfort. After far too long, but it was probably only a few minutes, Samantha put one of the pillows over my head, then I felt her get off the bed. Seconds later, she removed the pillow and straddled my face with her pussy, facing down the bed. I instantly got to work with my tongue and felt a cold cloth on my member. She was obviously enjoying herself, judging by the flow coming over my face and into my mouth. Very soon I was soft and Samantha was pressing down on my bladder. I had to let go and felt my piss racing through but desperately tried to concentrate on satisfying Samantha. Although initially worried that she had not prepared for the amount of my first pee of the day, it soon became clear that she had everything worked out and that I needn't have worried about a thing. Not long after, I felt her breathing pattern change as she was getting close to her orgasm, then she simply stepped off the bed, turned round and put the pillow back resting on my face. Silence is one of those situations that give time no meaning and I lay there relaxing, wondering exactly what was going on. For a long time it seemed nothing was going on, then without warning her lips were around my penis and he jumped into life - literally! In a few seconds I was hard and she mounted me with no further preamble. "Remember, you can't come before me or you get to eat cream pie." Shit, I thought. She is bound to last longer than me, I'll have to think of something. Trying desperately to think of the unsexiest thoughts in the world is difficult when you are being rode by your gorgeous wife. Every time that I thought about something - like plain Jane for instance - a counter thought would appear - that frothy green and pink outrageous outfit for instance, then tried the bank, but an image of me dressed as the Queen, in all my sensuous corsetry, impossible high heels and an even more impossibly high wig, demanding my money as my head was on the notes. "I'm... not... going... to... last... Samantha." And she was off the bed. She returned an indeterminate time later in exactly the same manner, with exactly the same warning, sadly with exactly the same result. Four times this happened, then after another indeterminate, but seemingly much longer time, the pillow was whipped off and her sweet pussy replaced it, this time she was facing the headboard though. Pressure, release, breath, lack of breath, quick breath, suffocation, her orgasm approaching, another quick breath, her body shaking, me passing out, then coming to with a blindfold on and a cover over me. "Will you be able to last longer than me this time?" she asked very quietly, with her mouth only inches from my ear. "I doubt it Samantha. You have teased me so much that I'm ready to explode." "Perhaps we need to give you some relief to allow you to last longer. Would that help?" "Of course, thank you. That will help enormously." "I did say perhaps, so let's wait and see. Will you tell me if you are close?" "Yes" Her hand took a firm grip of me and began jacking up and down. Within a few seconds I had to tell her. "I'm very close." She stopped, paused, then began kissing my body starting at the neck down and heading slowly down my chest, kissing even my armpits, nipples, belly button, getting closer to my member. "I'm... really, really... close Samantha." She disappeared! Simple as that, one moment she was teasing me gloriously, the next there was nothing. How many times she came back and teased me, or mounted my face, or whispered in my ear I don't know, but finally she appeared from nowhere once more, my face still blindfolded, sat on my penis and said those wonderful four words. "You may come now." And I did, boy it was like a dam bursting, I simply exploded into her like she needed rocket propulsion. Her body began to react a few seconds later, clearly not a simultaneous orgasm, but only a little behind. Then she was gone again and I felt her juices and my juices on top of my legs and groin area. Not the most pleasant feeling, but hey I'd just had a mind blowing day so I could wait for it to dry. Sadly that was not the plan. In only a few minutes, I heard Samantha come back into the room, felt my blindfold being removed and after my eyes had adjusted to the light and my right wrist released, I saw her disappear back out of the room with loose trousers and a loose top on. She shouted back to me. "Just popping to the shops, will only be about an hour." Then the door closed. Untying myself from the ribbon was remarkably easy as she had simply used a slip knot, but as it was down out of sight (and reach) it has been impossible in the position I was in. Time for a shower. Looking at the bedside clock, it was almost 5pm. What a day! Would it be described as a waste? Possibly, but not by me that is for sure. An experience and a half. If this was what Samantha wanted now, I needed to make sure that I could control myself for longer. Perhaps I needed to masturbate more. Then again, the feelings at the point of losing it were so intense that I might want to experience it again. Samantha came back, we kissed and cuddled a lot that evening, then went to bed and slept. The sleep of the exhausted for me, yet Samantha was wide awake again early on, and as I woke up she asked. "Same as yesterday?" "Wow, are you really up for that?" "Afraid not, but I can tell that you are so let me just wake you up properly and then we can get on with the day." Saying so, she mounted me, she clearly had been playing with herself - or perhaps just dreaming of something. In no time at all she was bucking all over the bed, digging her nails into me once more, screaming, moaning, loving every second of it. As she calmed down, we both realised that I had not come, but I knew that I was desperate for the loo. Smiling at me, she saw the desperation and said. "Off you go then." And I did, into the loo, long, long pee as usual, then I jacked off. It had been weeks since I'd jacked off and never had I done so with Samantha in the house, let alone in the next room. Fortunately I had used the en suite so I just shouted that I was going for a shower and jumped into it. When I came out, Samantha was not in the room, so I dressed in jeans and t-shirt and went looking for her. Nowhere to be seen, until I checked the bathroom and she was relaxed in the deep bath, thoroughly enjoying the chill time with her earphones in listening to music. I left her there and started work. Should have done some of it yesterday, but she was so damn distracting that I could not refuse her. Mind you, being tied to the bed makes it a touch difficult to refuse... There was to be no sex from my wife for the next three nights, meaning that I would be coming back from Jane's to some good time - at least I hoped so, hence I would have to be careful at Jane's. Picking her up at the usual time, with my wife again going out, we arrived in her apartment and she simply said. "The instructions are on the dresser." I went through and read them, which was like reading a lecture from my school teacher. Apparently I had enjoyed myself too much the previous week and did not behave in a very ladylike manner! Hence because I clearly enjoyed the clothes too much, I would be wearing less sexy ones this week. The cheek of it. Naturally, this week the corset (plain black) went on first and I tightened it properly to 28" without too much difficulty and only a little breathing challenge. Then came the stockings, which were smoky grey and the French Knickers, which were black to match the corset and seemed a little loose. In the corset cups went the breast forms, although they really augmented the amount of flesh that I pulled up, rather than replaced it. Mind you, as I pushed them as far down into the cups as possible, this gave the distinct impression of cleavage - which I enjoyed of course. The shoes were low heeled - about 1.5" grey dull shoes that would have looked fine on my gran. Next came the make-up which was quite grey and lifeless looking, although the slight blush made a useful difference and the lipstick, whilst hardly startling, was a gentle pink. Looking at my face in the mirror was like looking at one of the girls in our typing pool - but not the young raunchy ones. A plain wig, simple brown "bob" which was quite short compared to the previous full, sexy wigs that I'd had before. Then the dress, except it wasn't a dress. A white ladies shirt that buttoned all the way to the neck, a grey woollen skirt that came to just below the knee, although it was fitted at the waist so I was glad to have tightened the corset. On top of these was a grey woollen cardigan! What did she think I was, some old spinster or widow? Finishing the instructions, I clipped a pearl necklace under the collar of the shirt, clipped matching drop ear-rings and put on the pearl bracelet on left wrist and small ladies watch on my right wrist. Having found the full length mirror, I checked how I looked, thought it was good - if a bit frumpy, then called for Jane. "Why don't you just come out here Queen, if we need to sort anything, we can do so." I waltzed out of the room, feeling somewhat proud of the look. Jane appraised me, then spoke. "You have done better than last week, there is no doubting that, but let's get that wig sitting just right, then your cardy needs to sit a little higher on your shoulders. I must say that your makeup is a whole world better than last week. Have you been practising?" "Of course not. Where would I get time and make-up to practice?" "Well, you have more time available now that you don't see that slut any more, and your wife does have one of the most extensive collections of cosmetics that anyone could wish for, therefore it would have been easy for you to practice if you wanted. Perhaps you realise that I wasn't really asking a serious question as there are still challenges all over your face." Jane then proceeded to critique almost every square millimetre of my attempt at make-up, then had me work around her house on "women's jobs", pausing to check the work every now and then and interrupting me every so often with little requests, such as a cup of tea, a foot rub, a shoulder massage, or many other little ideas that seemed at best designed to keep me on guard, and at worst to humiliate me. Towards the end of the evening, she simply lifted the woollen skirt, pulled down the French Knickers and sucked me off looking straight into my eyes the entire time. Routine By Christmas I was really enjoying my visits to Jane and had even begun to smile at myself in the mirror as I put the make-up on. Also the corset was now down to 27" and I rarely dressed in the dull, lifeless woollen skirt and white top. As Christmas fell on a Wednesday that year, it meant a three week rest from dressing feminine and I found myself wondering if my wife would notice if I tried her clothes on. Bearing in mind how slim she was I realised that the chance of me wearing any of her 26" waist clothes with the corset was possible, however without it, there was no chance. My waist was normally 32" due to a fitness regime that I'd managed to stick to at least four times per week, therefore a 6" stretch would be too much. On New Year's Eve, when Samantha went out for a couple of hours with some of her friends, I did put on a very loose, but lovely satin nighty and had a very quick jack off that seemed to be satisfying but I could not believe how guilty I felt afterwards. The routine of life was so much better at home as Samantha had grown into her role on top and became even more demanding of my ability to hold back. It surprised my how I managed to adapt to that demand and it did not involve thinking of the woollen skirt or anything equally sexless, but simply concentrating on her needs and thinking less about mine. My secretary was surprised once when the flower company delivered two bouquets of flowers on my wife's birthday. She had ordered the usual bouquet for me to take home and was delighted when I gave her one of the bouquets I'd bought, as well as the one she had ordered for my wife, however she was even more surprised when she arrived at work on her own birthday with a similar bouquet, along with 2 tickets for her favourite group who happened to be visiting Liverpool that weekend. Not sure that her boyfriend appreciated going to see the boy band though. Routine at job just wasn't happening though and true to his word, the Chairman had Annabelle transferred to his department and she seemed to blossom there as well. Mind you, her career didn't stall as the Chairman realised that her skills were not limited to those of a sexual nature. The Malaysian contract went from strength to strength and the Chairman raised once more the possibility of my interest in the Far East job. In late spring, my wife and I had a serious conversation about transferring to the Far East and we agreed that it would not necessarily be a good move, partially due to her work, but also her real desire was to retire to Australia, not actually work when living there. The February three weeks in Australia had confirmed this in her mind, hence I was quite happy to continue with this, especially as I thought that I'd reached the stage of preparing myself beautifully as "Queen" and was concerned that Jane would now say that my weekly dressing was to come to an end. As it turned out, she clearly was enjoying this arrangement as well and had decided to give me the opportunity of continuing. It was a Wednesday when my wife was out of town - very unusual during the week, however as it turned out, I was kind of glad. Arriving at Jane's I used my key to get in, knowing that she would be late and we had agreed that this would be a "test" evening. Entering the theatrical bedroom, I removed my male clothes and felt myself relax. Knowing that I had time, I determined to enjoy the experience like never before, so gently tightened myself into the ivory coloured corset, measuring that I was now capable of the same waist as my wife. This was the only corset that had no shoulder straps so I guessed that there was a strapless dress for the evening and I remember thinking how fortunate I was to have little chest hair and none on my back at all. The stockings were rolled up my legs gently and I wondered what my wife would think if I suggested shaving, or perhaps better, waxing my legs... A beautiful pair of ivory French knickers were slowly drawn up my legs, managing to tuck myself into the gaff before enjoying the smoothness of the knickers on the small area of my thighs between the corset and the top of the stockings. Breast forms were put in to the top of the corset and my flesh pulled above them, providing the natural looking cleavage that I had come to crave. Next came the 5" heels that were still difficult to walk in, but made my legs look gorgeous. These were ivory coloured courts to match the rest of the outfit, therefore I was hoping it was the tight, short sexy leather dress that finished a fraction below my stoking tops and was almost indecent when sitting in certain ways. Sitting at the mirror, I switched on the lights and began my canvass. The moisturising creams that Jane had provided had certainly proven wonderful at smoothing the beard, although if I didn't shave at the weekend I still looked too hairy for my own liking - and my wife's, therefore I only didn't shave when she was away with her friends. The instructions were to be more dramatic, as the dress and dinner deserved it, hence my need for extra stick on eyelashes, added mascara and thick eye liner extending beyond my eye line. This was the only dark on my canvass as the eye shadow was pale, blended to enhance the eye liner. The lip liner, lipstick and lip gloss were all ivory also, a colour I'd never used therefore I thought it unlikely now that it would be the leather outfit as that had deserved dramatic, bright red lips and cheeks. Only the faintest, light blusher highlighted my cheeks and brows and my nails were also ivory. Jane now trusted me with press on nails, which were easier to put on, but - although I never told her - never felt as good as the glued on extensions. Having said that, they were easier to get off at the end of the evening. The blonde shoulder length wig, which gently curled inwards at my shoulders, looked perfect with the rest of the outfit and I opened the garment bag with excitement, glad that the gaff had proven successful in holding my back at all previous uses. The chiffon skirt flowed from a silk bodice that had a side zip and as I stepped into the soft satin underskirt I knew why Jane had chosen this gorgeous, flowing, calf length dress. She had never provided me with a dress or skirt as long as this before and she must have realised the overwhelming feminine feelings that would swell up as I pulled it upwards, settled the narrow, fitted waist over my corset and pulled the zip up to seemingly lock me into this epitome of femininity. Clicking a pair of beautiful, pearl, drop earrings on, then clipping a single, large pearl necklace around and having the pearl settle into my cleavage was the final touch. Going out to the full length mirror I almost broke into tears. Although I'd never look beautiful, I did look like an elegant lady in her thirties looking to attend an awards ceremony. Then I noticed a matching clutch bag in front of the mirror and picked it up. Holding it in a way that I thought was elegant, I realised that there was probably a message inside as Jane had a way of playing tricks with me. Opening the bag, indeed there was an envelope, as well as a small bottle of Chanel No. 5. Opening the envelope, I read... "For some weeks now I have struggled with the fact that you are now a perfect 'Queen' as I fear that you may wish to relinquish your evenings spent in beautiful femininity." "To allow you an easy way out, this night will be spent with my mother who will be arriving at 8pm for the dinner that I know you will probably smell as it is in the oven already." "She is an extremely conservative person who believes in dressing for dinner and I have told her that you will fill in for me as I have to work late. One of her concerns is that I am a lesbian, therefore it would be very helpful to me if you can play up your boy friend and how long the relationship has been going. In addition, you appreciate the opportunity to dress for dinner as I never do with you - or your boy friend - and that you love to be feminine and elegant, as I am sure you will look tonight." "My only regret is that I will not be able to see you dressed in that lovely dress, therefore it would please me enormously if you could ask my mother to take a photograph of you with the digital camera that is on the dining table.." "Should you wish to stop our feminine evenings hide the camera and I will release you from the bet that you have carried out far better than I could have hoped." "If, as I suspect, you have come to enjoy these evenings as much as I have, please leave the camera on my bed and I will look forward to meeting you next Wednesday for an evening of pleasure, rather than paying off your debt. "Hugs and swishes." "Plain Jane" The doorbell rang before I had time to take in the full extent of the message. Folding up the letter quickly I put it back in the envelope and the bag and walked to the door, checking my hair in the mirror before opening it. A very sophisticated lady of around sixty stood there and smiled at me, looking me up and down and exclaiming. She was dressed in a simple black sheath dress that reached to her knees, low heeled courts and a light coloured jacket that was below here hips. "Well, when Jane said that I would love the way you dressed, I did not believe her, but I have to say you look beautiful. May I come in?" "Of course." I replied, fortunately remembering to keep my voice soft and raised a little. "May I take your coat?" "Why thank you." "What would you like to drink?" I asked, leaving a pause to allow her to introduce herself. "Cybil. And Jane tells me you are known as "Queen". "Yes, my mother used to call me Princess and I rebelled in my teen years, so she began to call me Queen instead. In some ways I am sad that it stuck." "So what is you proper name then?" Thinking on my feet, I could only come up with my secretary's name as Jane, Samantha and Annabelle were clearly out. "Sally, Cybil, but you can call me Queen, Sally or Sal as your preference." "Sally is my preference then, and to answer your original question, if you have some dry white wine, that would be excellent." Whilst this was probably the most terrifying experience of my life, I don't have an awful lot of memory of it, given that I was concentrating on not slipping up and giving away my true gender. One part I do remember is - bearing in mind the importance of the message earlier on - asking Cybil to take a photo of me and she left her email address (a surprise in itself) and asked me to send her a copy of her work. She almost became artistic and posed me in a number of ways, mostly sat with my legs crossed, although a few were standing holding my clutch bag and these appeared to be her favourites. One thing is sure, the evening flew by and I left wondering if it had been wise to agree to a continuation of our feminine evenings...