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Can Someone Here Help?? free porn video
Dear Fictionmania,
I heard you sometimes offer advice, and I thought I'd write you about a
problem that's starting to concern me.
My wife Margo and I are in our mid-thirties, good-looking, well-off,
with high-paying jobs that nonetheless leave us time for well-defined
Leisure... and The Game.
We both enjoy an adventurous sex life, and together we developed the
perfect Streaking Game. Or at least I thought so till recently!
I've always been turned on by an element of Risk, the thrill of the
chase, with me as the quarry. I also kind of like being teased by my
lovely spouse. For her part, Margo has a rather mischievous sense of
humor, and I have long known she gets really turned on by little jokes
that cause me embarrassment. She's also an incurable flirt. On the
other hand, neither of us wants to do anything that would jeopardize
our reputation or jobs, so we've worked out The Game.
The Game works -- or worked -- like this: We'd schedule a long weekend
out of town, picking large, touristy cities when we could, but nothing
too crowded. We'd fly into town, check into a comfortable room, then
rent either a van or a large car with smoked windows... a very
important item.
Margo would put on a slightly brassy dress, make up her face a little
on the bold side, and put on a blonde wig. Then we'd start prowling the
Bars; we didn't go into any unsafe neighborhoods, just the sort of
places where prostitutes might show up from time to time... and be
noticed. This gives me an Out so that later, if need be, I could name
bars I'd been in where the Help would remember seeing me in the company
of an apparent prostitute. Then the Fun started!
Having got to know the area and established our "cover", we'd head back
to the Van. Margo would drive to some part of town not too far from the
hotel or the bars we'd visited. While she drove, I'd strip naked in the
back and lock my clothes, keys, wallet, etc. in a small briefcase. When
we reached our "destination", Margo parked the van in some dark or
deserted spot, then came back in the back, stripped off her wig and
dress, teased me with her body, stroked me to repeated arousal, then
giggled and dressed again -- this time a bit more conservatively, with
softer makeup. Usually, I'd go down on her then, since she really
enjoys that, and bring her to a shuddering climax--or two . After she'd
had her fill of my oral worship, she'd put a pair of lacy panties on
me, hand me a Room Card, open the back of the van, push me out and
drive off, leaving me to find my way back to the Hotel and make my way
to our room in a strange city--wearing nothing but panties!
Naturally, the first thing I'd do was scamper into the shadows out of
sight while I tried to figure out where I was and how to get back to
the Hotel ahead of Margo. I might find myself crouched by a trash
dumpster in a seedy alley, or huddling behind bushes in a park, looking
nervously this way and that, trying to judge the safest time to make a
sprint for the next position of safety, trying to get back to the Hotel
and into our room before Margo did. She, meanwhile, headed for some
high-class singles bar where she'd pick up an attractive guy (or woman,
sometimes, depending on her mood) for a wild night of Sex -- made all
the more exciting for her by just thinking of the embarrassing
predicament she left me in!
And it certainly can be embarrassing for me, trying to sneak back to
our Hotel through deserted alleys and side streets, in nothing but a
pair of panties! Sometimes, for "added spice" Margo will hobble my
knees or tie my hands behind my back, and occasionally she'll make me
wear a pair of her high heels, but usually I'm just in those scanty
panties. One night, when she was in a particularly wicked mood, she had
me kiss her to climax three(!) times, then strapped her high heels on
my feet, tied my wrists behind me, teased me to jutting erection, then
merely hung her undies on my throbbing member, "to keep you modest!"
she tittered, promising dire punishments if I should return to our room
without them. Well, of course I did eventually drop them, while hiding
behind a trash can, and had to retrieve them in my mouth and carry them
that way.
But our Game has definite rules: If I make it back to the Room before
Margo returns with her Lover for the evening, she has to send him away,
then be my personal slave for the rest of the night and the entire next
week. And I might add that Margo is highly selective in her choice of
prospective dates, so it can take hours of scouting, flirting, and
playful interviewing to settle on a suitable partner... my chances of
winning weren't all that bad!
But if Margo got to the room first with her lover (I could tell by the
DO NOT DISTURB sign on the door) I had to wait outside, hiding
someplace till they finished. At a suburban Motel this isn't too
difficult, since there are generally trees or shrubs in an open parking
lot for me to scurry behind, feeling the cool blacktop or soft mulch on
my bare feet as the wind ripples the lacy panties across my blushing
butt -- but at a Downtown Hotel, it can be practically impossible!
Anyway, once Margo sends her "date" away, she lets me in and has me
tell all about my embarrassing race back to the hotel, dwelling
particularly on anyone who might have seen me and what they said, Then
she tells about her evening, usually talking at length about how
attractive her lover was, and gushing about his or her prowess,
grinning broadly while I stand there in panties, burning with envy.
Usually, she'll have me go down on her again, and then, at long last,
we make wild, passionate love.
Woe betide me, though, if I can't get back to our room or end up having
to call Margo to come and get me! If that happens, I've lost the Game,
and have to spend the entire next week as her personal slave... and
Like I say, she has a real streak of Mischief! I've often had to take
off work just because she's taken away all my clothes for an entire
day, or made me wear one of her dresses.
Naturally, this means I try as hard as possible not to be spotted or --
worse yet -- stopped. If someone sees me, I run away as best I can,
often to the accompaniment of derisive hoots and whistles ringing in my
burning ears as my bare feet slap on the pavement. If I'm unlucky
enough to get caught, I shamefacedly "explain" that I visited a
prostitute who did this to me. If the Police were to pick me up, I
could "prove" my story by naming the Bars we went to, where witnesses
have seen me in the company of an apparent prostitute.
So even if I'm picked up, I have a story that makes me look like an
innocent victim, and as long as we take care that I never encounter the
Police in the same city twice, our game is perfectly safe. It can
sometimes get pretty embarrassing, running around pantied in public,
but the passionate sex from my amused wife makes it all worthwhile. Or
it did.
We enjoyed our little game for over a year, with only a few
difficulties, like the time Margo dropped me off near a College Campus
one Autumn and I was mistaken for a Frat Pledge by a group of sorority
girls, who herded me back to their house and made me rake the lawn in
the chilly moonlight with a group of panty-clad male pledges. Or the
time the two drunken black hookers caught me and decided to have a
little fun... well, I'll tell you more about that if you're interested.
But the problem really started about six months ago when Evan learned
about our game. Evan is an ex-boyfriend of Margo's from our College
Days. He was also friendly with me back then, but we lost touch until
he was recently promoted and transferred to our city. Well, as you have
no doubt guessed, we have an open marriage, so I couldn't really object
when Margo and Evan started having a harmless little affair. But as the
months went by and they kept seeing each other, it seemed like Evan was
becoming more and more possessive of Margo's attentions. To the point
where I sometimes felt like I was competing with him for my own wife.
Perhaps they got along so well together because Evan shares my wife's
love of practical jokes. But there's a certain cruel streak in him that
I never cared for. Margo has some of that in her own makeup as well,
but her style is more the playful, teasing sort, and I never have any
doubt but that she would rescue me if I got in serious trouble. That
is, I never used to have any doubt till Evan became a player in our
game.
As Evan became more and more involved with Margo, he naturally grew
curious about our long weekends together. And eventually, much to my
chagrin, Margo spilled the beans. Well, once he learned about our
little game, nothing would satisfy Evan but that he play it with us.
The first time wasn't really too bad, though it was kind of
embarrassing being stripped, dressed in panties and teased by my wife
while another man looked on, grinning.... but the more we played, the
wilder Evan's imagination got -- and the riskier and more embarrassing
for me!
First, Evan talked Margo into getting me to shave off all my body hair.
Margo said it'd show off my muscles better, like Body Builders do, but
I thought the result was rather effeminate. Then one evening, before
dropping me off nude, miles from the hotel in a strange city, Evan told
Margo to put makeup on my face! When I protested that this didn't fit
in with my story of being robbed by a prostitute, Margo said I should
say that the hooker had talked me into trying something kinky, then
left me like this.
Well, you can imagine I took extra pains not to be spotted that night,
scampering through the streets with my body all smooth, and sporting
big red lips, curled hair, demure, shadowed eyes and pink rouged cheeks
(upper and lower!) plus lacy white panties!
But my grudging acceptance of this gambit opened a Pandora's box of
humiliations for Evan to put me through. Soon Margo was tricking me out
in high heels or jewelry, along with the makeup. I already said I felt
like I was competing with Evan for Margo's attentions. Well now it
seemed like he was trying to put me at a disadvantage by keeping me
near-naked and making me seem less and less manly in front of my wife.
Though I certainly could compete with Evan as a man, I felt more and
more that I was competing with him as a woman... and almost a nude one
at that!
Evan delighted in adding little touches of embarrassing ingenuity. He
started bringing along a little cooler on our trips, filled with cotton
scarves soaking in ice water. As Evan drove us through the streets,
Margo gleefully wrapped my privates in these, causing them to shrink to
laughably small dimensions when she unwrapped me. They gave me nothing
to wear but makeup, wig and high heels, and their howls of laughter at
seeing me so shamefully tiny burned in my ears as I minced frantically
down the streets all naked and feminized!
Can you imagine the awfulness of having to run nude through the streets
like this, looking so un-manly and near-naked? I even started hugging
one forearm across my pouty chest as I ran, the other hand clutched
desperately over my shrunken 3-piece set--just like a nude woman!
And since Evan and Margo make love to each other, I never win the Game
anymore. My weeks of punishment are spent doing housework -- ours and
Evan's - all feminized and usually in the nude while they enjoy
themselves, and when I complained about having to sneak into his condo
in this state, Evan commented that perhaps it would simplify things if
he moved in with us!
And the humiliations just keep coming. Evan bought a tiny chastity
device and had Margo lock me in it, and now I can only make love to her
on their terms! Imagine having to tongue my wife to orgasm repeatedly,
then wait anxiously, stretched out on the bed while she sits on my
face, calls her lover, describes my performances and they gigglingly
decide whether to free me or not!
"Sorry, Dear," Margo will smile down at me as she closes her phone,
"Evan says not tonight. I guess he has other plans for me! But you
know..." she looks at my feminized body and cute face thoughtfully,
"Perhaps if you gave him the same attention you give me, he might let
you have some relief. Oh, he wouldn't let you fuck me or anything, but
if you gave him really good head, you might get to jerk yourself off
into a pair of my panties! Wouldn't that be nice?"
And just last night, after I dressed and acted like the perfect lesbian
slave for my wife, she laughingly told me she couldn't let me out any
more because Evan now has the keys!
Well, you can understand how I'm starting to think this whole thing is
getting out of hand, and if you or your readers can suggest anything,
I'd be glad to hear it. But hurry! Lately I've noticed some brochures
lying around, about breast-enlargement and permanent makeup! Whatever
would I do if they played the game and put me out, all naked and
feminine, in some remote woods or strange city?
Hoping you'll let me hear your thoughts,
"cc"
Emely
- 23.08.2021
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