Althea's Lovely Weekends free porn video

Althea's Lovely Weekends by Ginny Wolf I am at the motel. I arrived first and checked in. This is the rendezvous, halfway between our homes. I wait impatiently for my dear lover. I haven't seen her in almost two weeks and it's killing me. The longer I wait the harder it gets. When we can't make it to one home or another, we meet here but it has been a long time since we have gone so many days without seeing each other. I look down at my feet and realize that I have been unconsciously and repetitively tapping my left blue high heel to some song deep in the back of my mind. My black skirt, which I am wearing because she loves me in it, seems to be lightly moving and I recognize that in my impatience I am swaying side to side. I hear a car door slam and look out the window. I see her. Dora has already found the room and is coming my way. She is stunning. Tall. Blonde. As curvy as a high fashion model. As muscular as an Amazon warrior. Wearing dark blue slacks and a brown blouse with sleeves that come to her elbows. Ankle boots with a low heel. Her golden hair is nicely cut, short but cute for her face. I open the door and she grabs me with a hug that almost knocks me down. We hold each other tight for a second not saying anything. It feels good to be held in her arms again. She loosens her grip to talk to me but she doesn't totally let go. "I missed you so much! You can't believe how hard these last few days were," she declares, squeezing me tightly, then provocatively rubbing my bottom. "You don't have to worry about all that right now, dearest. We're together now for the next few days." I feel tears of joy in my eyes. Gently, she lifts up my chin. "Althea, darling, you know the answer to the problem of our separation. Stop resisting. There's no doubt any more that you are very feminine, a natural, beautiful creature. Become my bride. Move from being my courtesan to being my wife. You could stop working and just be a housewife. Remember telling me that was your dream job? I can make that happen. I'm making more than enough money to support a wife. Come, live in my house so we can be together each and every day. What an asset you will be to me. And you will make a lovely hostess when we entertain." I sigh. "Dora, I just don't know. What would people think of you if they discovered that your lesbian wife was really a sissy male? You could be ruined, honey. I can't do that to you. I will not risk your career." Dora sighs in her turn. "Well, we have a whole long weekend ahead of us for recreational sex, good meals and plenty of time for leisurely conversation. I'm especially interested in the recreational sex part but first we need to find some dinner. I don't want you to faint away while I'm in the middle of screwing your pretty brains right out of your pretty head." I laugh with her and we hug again. This time not as long and hard, but just as nice. "You look good," she says, "But maybe you ought to freshen up your lipstick a bit? You were impatiently sucking your lips while you were waiting for me, weren't you?" As she commands this, I can see an impish twinkle in her eyes, a look she sometimes gets. I know I have to cooperate, knowing also she has some naughtiness in mind. "If you don't take too, too long to get gorgeous, we can grab a bite to eat at a really respectable establishment," she says rather suggestively. I look at her eyes and can see the fire in them. My heart feels like it's about to break through my chest. I feel the warmth in my panties start to increase. I've been waiting for this for most of the last two weeks. I enter the bathroom and begin to reapply my lipstick. As soon as I finish, Dora enters, yanks the door shut, spins me around and slams me against the wall, kissing me so passionately that I can feel my knees start to buckle. I wrap my hands around her neck and deepen the kiss. I start to moan softly each time I feel the silk of her tongue touch me. When the kiss ends, the only thing keeping me up is the pressure of her body pushing me against the wall. As we try to catch our breath, she caresses my face, looking deep into my eyes. I return her gaze and can feel my heart pounding against my rib cage. She hugs me and whispers in my ear, "I really want to take you right now." I instantly feel myself grow excited and I moan into her shoulder. I grab her hips and start rocking them against my leg, making sure she grinds slow and hard against me. As I do this I'm kissing her neck, making my way up to her chin, then finally her mouth where I kiss her for all that I am worth. This time it's her turn to moan at the kiss. Suddenly, she takes my hands from her hips and pins them to either side of my head. She gives me one more quick kiss before she starts to make her way to my ear lobes, down to my neck, and to the top of my chest. She takes my blouse off and drops it on the floor. She presses and squeezes my breasts through my bra. She unclips my bra, but doesn't take it off. She hikes it up to my neck and immediately takes my right nipple in her wet, warm mouth. I moan again and bring my hands to her head pulling her to me. She moves to my left nipple and again I feel like I'm in heaven. After a couple moments of this, she starts to move down to my skirt and then, wham!, not paying attention to the distance between us and the sink, she smacks her tush hard against the sink's cabinet and her head hits my stomach. I start to giggle instantly, breaking the mood. She stands back up also giggling. At this point my giggling is starting to get uncontrollable and she puts her hand to my mouth to try to prevent me from getting any louder than I already am. "Ssshhhhh! Be a good girl! Stop laughing!" she orders me. "You want the room next door to hear you? Besides, that is not funny," she whispers at me between her giggles. Thankfully, though she is getting hers under control. "My bum hurts and it's all your fault!" "My fault? You're the one who started carrying on. I was simply applying my lipstick as directed, trying to be a good girl." I put my head on her shoulder trying to smother my giggles in her blouse. When I finally start to get control of myself again, she whispers in my ear, "I thought you liked my bum?" "I do." I bring my hands to her bottom, squeezing and kneading her round moons. "Does that feel better, honey?" "Much better, dear girl. Mmmmm... don't stop." If I wasn't back in the mood by then, I definitely am when she moans that into my ear. I remove both my hands slide them under her pants and panties, down to her bottom so I can feel her properly. "Oh, that feels so good," she murmurs huskily. I know I'm turning her on. I am starting to sense her arousal and it's beginning to drive me wild. I nuzzle against her neck, kiss her ear lobe firmly enough to leave a trace of my lipstick, all the while rubbing and squeezing her tush. "I'll do you one better, honey," she declares. Her breathing becomes a bit ragged, she puts her hands down my skirt without unzipping it and reaches under my panty hose and panties so the pressure is unbelievable. She puts her head on my shoulder again and whispers, "Surrender to me, dearest. Resistance is futile. I am going to take you, my sweetness, take you right now for all you're worth." In turn, I lean my head on her shoulder and nod my silent total surrender. She moves her right hand down to the front of my panties, stroking my love tool. Keeping my left hand on her soft bottom, I move my right hand to the front of her panties and I can feel her silky wetness covering the front of the fabric. The realization that I can make her that wet excites me, drawing me closer to orgasm. "Why are you so wet, darling?" I whisper into her ear. "You know damn well that you make me so hot and wet, you naughty girl, you. I going to take you right now." She increases the pressure on the front of my panties. I know I am getting close to an explosion. My darling lover is rubbing the front of my panties in a circular motion. We are both pushing our hips into each other, adding to our pleasure. I can feel my orgasm coming quickly. "Dear, you're about to make me come. I'm so close," I whisper. Suddenly, she clamps her hips against me and softly bites my shoulder. I can hear her whisper into my shoulder. When I hear her say my name, it sends my orgasm crashing through me and I can feel electric sensations. All I can see is white light and it feels as though bolts of electricity are flashing out of my body. We stand still together for a long while, with my one hand on her bottom and the other on the front of her panties, feeling her throb under the fabric. She keeps her fingers on my panties, preventing my love tool from totally deflating. "Get used to it, my cute little dairy cow," she whispers. "I've found some new ways to milk you, sweetie. By the time I'm done with you this weekend you will give up every last drop." "As you wish, my dear," I whisper back and giggle. "As long as call me a 'cute little cow' and not a fat one, I'm yours to milk as many times as you please. "That's the right answer. You might make a good wife yet. Yes, you are very cute and very shapely. I love knowing that I can excite you so that give your special milk just for me." She kisses me deeply while giving the front of my panties another firm squeeze. After our breathing becomes somewhat regular, we hear the sound of a toilet flushing in the next room. Dora looks at me with a questioning look and she mouths, "Do you think anyone heard us?" I start to giggle and I smile at her. She whispers at me, "Don't start that up again. Hurry and get yourself ready. I can't believe we did that. See what you do to me? It was all your fault." "That's it, blame your femme courtesan. But now I have to change my panties and my hosiery," I whisper. She looks at me and smirks. "You know darling you could pass as a very fine lipstick lesbian." "Oh stop that!" I mutter. As quickly as I can I change into fresh panties and hose. I add a firm panty girdle, both to look nice and as a little bit of chastity device to hold down my love tool. Skirt back on, I manage to freshen my lipstick, blush and mascara without interruption. I grab my purse, Dora helps into the car and she takes me to a lovely rustic inn. ********** I am the youngest child of the four boys and three girls of Thomas and Lettice Jones. They named me Gavin. Even in elementary school, I was good at gardening and cooking and terrible at sports. In high school I discovered that I was also good at sewing and in a variety of artistic media. I won an art scholarship to a fine college, graduated with honors and found a good job in an advertising agency. Eventually the paintings and needlecraft which I did on my own time won prizes and notice in the art world so I became successful enough to go free-lance. This provided me with time, opportunity and the resources to indulge my feminine side. My Grandma, Hester Jones, saved me from my mother's indifference, my father's hostility, my sisters' unconcern and my brothers' criticism. She provided me with the safety to first express my effeminate self as well as encouraging my artistic creativity. When I went free-lance she lent me some money to buy a pretty little home on a secluded lake which I could also use as my studio. Now in her eighties, she is spry and healthy and still my best friend. That is until I met Dora. Shortly before my 32nd birthday, I received a call from a large corporation in a city about a hundred miles northeast of my home. They wanted to hire me both to do some artwork for their advertising and some paintings to decorate some of their office space. The prospect offered long term work at very good money. They sent an executive from their marketing and development group to meet me in my studio. That was when I first encountered Dora Wallner. She told me a bit later that on the first day she figured out who I am. The decorations of my home, my androgynous clothes, the shiny clear polish on my nails, the incredible lunch I served her, the feel of my artwork- all clues which she correctly read as to my soft, submissive, quite feminine side. Despite the distance between our homes we soon were dating regularly. She took the role as leader and I gratefully became her follower. Some of our dates were shopping expeditions where she improved my wardrobe, teaching me about dresses, skirts, lingerie and high heels. Some of our dates were dining and dancing with me learning to follow her lead on the dance floor. Always she treated me as a lady, holding doors for me, assisting me into my coat, in a restaurant ordering for us both. In the dark of a movie theater she would gently and lovingly slide her hand under my skirt and make me purr. She introduced me to a friend of hers, a theatrical makeup artist with a national reputation on both coasts, who taught me how to properly apply my makeup and achieve a variety of looks. As part of her master plan, Dora found a wonderful beauty salon about 20 miles from my house. She smiled with great affirmation on the day when I emerged from their hands with my first really feminine hairdo and scarlet polish on my fingers and toes. I am now a regular client there. As another part of my womanly development, Dora encouraged me to have laser treatment to permanently remove my facial hair and to regularly have my arms and legs waxed. Early on she started calling me Althea, which she explained means "wholesome" in Greek, because "that's who and what you are, my darling, you are wholesome." Dora and I have been "an item" for over two years now. As a gift for my 34th birthday, she used some of her vacation time to accompany me to a surgeon in Canada where I underwent breast augmentation. Not only did she pay our airfares but the surgery costs as well. I feel wonderfully complete with my own well-rounded bosom. In the three months since then she has been petulantly asking me to marry her. "Althea, you reached a dream. You are beautiful now as well as smart and talented. You are a mythical creature, a special mix of satyr and nymph. All you need now is a good husband. Darling I am the person to be your husband. Marry me and be completely happy." ********** We return to the motel room after our wonderful dinner. At Dora's request I dress only in a red garter-belt and black stockings. My face turns absolutely red but I know she loves to see me blush. "You're just adorable when you blush, Althea," she declares. "Plus you do great things for a pair of stockings, what with those beautiful legs of yours." First I lay on my stomach while she takes my "clit" with her strap-on. It took me several months to become used to such love-making. However, I discovered that I could grow through the pain and reach the pleasure. Also, I could not but agree when Dora explained, "Darling my nature is dominant. Yours is submissive. This is the proper role with me on top and you on the bottom. You are having a real woman experience. As the lesbian couple we look like, I am the butch, you are the femme, honey." Satisfied with the first round, she turns me over on my back and rides my love tool until we both have crashing orgasms. I love being her filly with her on top of me like this. Teasing me that I have not given my all she starts petting and licking my new and extremely sensitive breasts while stimulating my bottom with one skilled finger. When she senses that I am gaining excitement she mounts my love tool once more and rides me hard. "Give me every drop you've got this time, my fair creature, or I shall have to do you once more." "Promise?" I ask with a giggle. Eventually we settle into sleep, her arms wrapped possessively around me. It is early Saturday morning. I have showered and dressed in preparation for going to breakfast. At the sink I look in the mirror to apply my makeup and check my hair. As I look at myself I say, "Goodness, will you look at my hair? I went to the hairdresser yesterday morning so I'd look nice for you. And you already have it mussed up." She stands behind me drying herself from her shower. Despite my intent to be a good girl the sight of her beautiful, toned body gives me a warm feeling in my panties. "Oh stop complaining. You know it was worth it and your hair still looks very nice," she tells me as she dries her breasts. She notices me looking at her and smiles into the mirror, looking back at me. I give her a wink. "Well, another goround like last night and my hair won't look nice. You keep carrying on and you'll have undone my salon set well beyond minor repair. I'll have to set it myself this afternoon," I say. "And the problem with that would be?" she asks. "You know very well the what the problem will be. Remember your last visit to my house?" I ask ********** We were spending the weekend at my house. It was Friday afternoon. Dora was shopping for wine and some additional groceries while I was preparing our dinner. That day my lovely salon style had been undone by her passionate handling. Instinctively, my fingers neatly arranged my hair in rollers, figuring I'd look nice for the evening. As I tied a net over my set hair, I didn't know how much my curlers turned on my demanding mistress. I stood in the kitchen, fixing vegetables, my hair up in rollers, when she came in. She looked at me, whistled and declared, "Mmmmmm! Dinner smells good and the cook looks good! Honey, you look so cute with your hair in curlers. Such a turnon!" I blushed as she said we ought to do "a quickie." She started rubbing my bottom and stroking my thighs with one hand, patting my set hair with the other. "You know you like having your special satyr tool handled and squeezed, don't you?" she asked coyly, squeezing me so firmly I could feel the warmth of hand all the way through my skirt, girdle, pantyhose and panties. When I just nodded and tried to continue cooking, she asked, "Would you like to be my little filly and have me ride you this afternoon? We have time for a quickie." She stuck one of her hands over the front of my skirt and rubbed my crotch and with the other massaged my blouse over my bra. "You are incorrigible," I muttered. "Let me get these vegetables started on a low heat and then you can have your wicked way with your little filly." As soon as the vegetables were cooking, I put my arms around her and gave her a kiss. In response, her warm soft tongue parted my lips and filled my mouth. Her hands went under the waistband of my skirt and firmly squeezed my bottom. Moments later, my skirt, girdle, stockings, panties and shoes were on the living room floor. Wearing just my blouse and bra, I lay on my back on the sofa, three fluffy pillows keeping my rollercovered head comfortable. She squeezed her warm, firm fingers around my tool while her other hand pressed gently against my hair rollers. Her mouth about swallowed mine completely. I felt myself growing warm and wet with a considerable erection. As I entered her and felt those magic muscles of hers taking hold of my tool, I squealed with delight. The sensation of the pressure within her womanly opening, the passionate kissing and her strong and gentle pressure on my scalp caused me to wrap my legs around her. I gave a soft little yip, shook with my internal explosion and shortly felt her vibrating on top of me. I enjoyed myself. Even for a "quickie" she was considerate enough to make sure that I was pleasured and satisfied. "Can't keep it zipped, big girl?" I teased as I put my panties back on. She lay on the couch watching me dress. Reaching over, she swatted my bottom. "Not when I'm around my girl who looks so sexy with her hair in curlers," she answered. "Used to be I couldn't see any attraction to a woman with her hair up. But I have to confess, you do look quite cute with your hair like that. I do believe I'd enjoy taking you again." "Aren't you ever satisfied?" "Frankly, no, not yet. I'm really enjoying your body and your loving, my girl friend. Want to do it again?" Her eyes sparkled with lust. I laughed. "Wait til tonight! I have our dinner to finish. You can set the table, please. Thank you for doing the groceries, dear." She gave me another love pat on my now fully-clothed bottom as she followed me into the kitchen. "That's another thing I have learned from you, darling. I never realized how sexy a person could look in a girdle. I love the look and feel of you when you're all nicely girdled up." She paused for a moment. "I think on our next shopping expedition I ought to buy you a naughty corset or two and lace you into one, good and tight. You'd look spectacular with a good old-fashioned hourglass figure, especially with that buxom chest of yours." I turned around and kissed her. Our tongues did a tango. When we broke the kiss I said, "Well what's a poor little girl to do when her lover wants her corseted? I've learned a lot from you dear so I can learn to wear a corset too, if that pleases you." Her grin told me that she was happy, that in bed that night I could expect a repeat performance and that soon I'd be wearing my first ever corset. As my cooking neared completion I went into the bedroom, changed into a pretty dark blue dress with matching heels, and styled my hair. I made sure that I had plenty of lipstick on my mouth. Dora whistled when I returned. She held my chair for me and then poured our wine. While we ate, she looked lovingly at me and said, "You are a great cook. You know you'd make somebody a great wife." I smiled and thanked her. Of course that night we did do the naughty with each other as well as twice during the day on Saturday. On Saturday night, I went to bed with my hair set so that I would look nice on Sunday for the close of our weekend together. With the intention of going to sleep, I got into bed with my back to my darling Dora. Voila- repeat performance! My set hair turned her on again. She started kissing the exposed area of neck between the top of my night gown and the bottom row of hair rollers, patting my hair on the rollers, then a little nibble on my ear, followed by another tender kiss on my neck, another little ear nibble, a squeeze to my tender nipples, fingers under my nightgown, massaging my love tool, then vigorous massaging while she was kissing my neck. Shortly, I was naked with Dora on top of me, riding me, exciting me. My kittenish mew rose to a gasp as she brought me to orgasm. ********** "Yes, of course I remember the weekend. And I remember that you enjoyed yourself, my dear. So if you put your hair in curlers, I will pleasure you. You're just so cute with your hair up," she says. "You did bring curlers, didn't you? And one or two of your corsets? I think I'll corset you before you set your hair. You'll look totally adorable in just your hair curlers, one of pretty corsets and a pair of stockings." "Whatever am I to do with you?" I answer. "Just love me, dear. Are you ready for breakfast?" I turn back to mirror, apply my foundation, lipstick, eye shadow and mascara. As Dora stands watching, I spritz on some perfume and grin at her. "Now that you are presentable, my dear, we'll get some breakfast. Then I expect you to change into the red and black negligee and some thigh-high stockings and get on that bed. I'm going to make sure first that you surrender every tiny drop of that precious liquid of yours, even if I have to milk you five times and then I will take you until I make your pretty and very talented brains shortcircuit," she says as she winks. I wink back. "I can hardly wait." After breakfast I dress as she wishes. We make long, slow, passionate love and then cuddle all morning. I know she wants to talk about marriage but I wait for her to bring up the subject. We dress and go to a favorite lunch spot. After lunch, as she promised, Dora snugly laces me into a pretty red and gold underbust corset which leaves my breasts exposed. She permits me to wear panties but no bra. I attach black stockings to the corset's garter tabs and at her command step into a pair of red stiletto heels. I set my hair. Dora tells me sit on her lap so we can talk. I blush like crazy. "I feel like a tart," I tell her. "That's okay, Althea. You are my tart. You please me. You do want to please me, don't you?" I kiss her. "Of course, I want to please you, Dora. What kind of question is that?" "Then why won't you become my wife? Darling, I'll take care of you for the rest of our days. I promise. Why do you resist?" I sigh deeply and suppress a few tears. "Dearest, I do want to please you. It's just that the idea of being a wife creates such turmoil within me. As I realized who I am, an effeminate male, a male body with female tastes and preferences, I figured I would never, ever marry. With the prospect now in front of me I'm at sixes and sevens trying to sort it all out. I never figured I'd be a husband, certainly not like my father and brothers. But I'm not sure that I can handle being a wife." I sigh again. "My sweet Althea! Can you tell me more about those feelings?" I take a deep breath. "I can say some things. This may be all jumbled but I'll try to get it all out. As I said yesterday, I worry about sabotaging your career. I mean, okay, so your friends and coworkers can accept you with a lesbian wife. But what would they say if they find out you married a little sissy, prissy male? I love you too much to see you shamed, Dora. You should have either a womanly woman or a manly man for your mate. I'm neither." She puts her fingers to my lips. "Stop right there for a moment. Look in the mirror over there. What do you see? A male figure? Or a very sexy female figure on the lap of her lover? You dress and groom yourself like a very fashionable woman. How do the waiters and waitresses at every place we eat address us? It's always 'hello, ladies' and 'have you ladies decided?' or 'would you girls like anything else?' Stella, your hairdresser, knows who you are but do any of her other customers ever squeak 'oh, a man' and ask what you're doing in that fine ladies' salon? When you are sitting under a hair dryer or being styled by Stella, don't other women talk with you like they would any other woman they meet in the salon? Your voice is a sweet, natural soprano. With your styled hair, smooth skin, expert makeup and those adorable breasts of which I can't get enough, you look quite womanly. You sew and paint like the finest female artists. You know why? You have a female soul, honey. Any ladies sewing circle or garden club would be proud to have you as a member. With your culinary gifts you will put to shame some of the other corporate wives when we entertain. Ha! I can see it now. Male colleagues ogling my pretty wife and their wives inviting you to play golf with them and wanting some of your recipes. My lesbian friends jealous of the beauty I snagged. As I told you, I've always been part lesbian and part straight. I've always found women more physically attractive but enjoy the cute boy tool more in love-making. Althea, you are perfect for me. What I am saying is that there is no way in hell that any colleague or friend could tell what is between your legs unless you yourself tell them. Honey, you look, talk, walk, act, feel, even smell like a natural woman, a refined, educated, very talented, genteel, aristocratic lady. Believe me, darling, no one can tell you are not what you seem. And when you are wearing an engagement ring and wedding band, you will present to everyone as what you are- a fine wife. My wife! A gorgeous and talented beauty that happens to have special love-making equipment that I particularly enjoy. You're perfect for me, honey, just perfect! Sorry, too long a speech. What else is bothering you?" I smile nervously. "Dora, I know that you have a strong and dominant personality. I know too that I have a submissive personality. Nevertheless, I worry that I may not be able to be the kind of obedient and docile wife you want. You expect deference and compliance. You've made it clear that's the kind of proper wife you desire. While I am quiet and submissive, a follower by nature, I doubt I could give a husband total, unconditional obedience. My mom tried that with my pop. It got her seven babies and two miscarriages. To this day she is overly thin and very withdrawn." Dora softly kisses my neck. "My dear sweet girl, let me calm your fears. I am no Simon Lagree. First, think about the things where you have already submitted to me. When I guide your shopping and dressing, has that been bad? When I selected a beauty salon for you, has that been awful or have you discovered how much you like being pampered there? When I insisted that you learn good makeup techniques, did I err? Isn't it true you love looking beautiful for me? Haven't you told me how much you like your body smooth after waxing? Isn't it a joy not to have to shave your face? When I select the restaurants for us to eat at, aren't my choices always pleasing? And most recently when I got firm about you having breast augmentation, did I make a mistake? I insist on the lead in sexual relations. Do I ever leave you unsatisfied? When I insist that you wear a corset, don't I make it worth your while? In all those things which I've required of you, don't you feel feminine? You really can't find fault in submitting to me, can you, darling?" Fearful that I might burst into tears, I simply nod that she is correct. She caresses my neck and kisses my chin. "Good god, you are beautiful," she says, making me smile. "Second, let me make clear what I expect from my wife when she vows to love, honor and obey me. If you wish to continue working, you can do as much or as little as you wish. I'll create a studio space for you in our home. I prefer you to wear dresses or skirts, especially when we go out or entertain. But you have a lovely wardrobe of fashionable slacks and you can buy as many more as you wish. What you wear around the house or when you go out with other wives is always your choice. I prefer you to wear heels most of the time but there too I think you have already discovered how much you like wearing heels and how feminine you look in them. I will require you to always wear appropriate hosiery. That's not unreasonable, is it? I expect my wife to place my career about hers. Schedule conflicts resolve in my favor. If I should receive an offer from another company, which I doubt as corporate head hunters have never yet been able to match my present earnings, I expect you to follow. I will set our budget, giving you a generous amount for running the house and require you to stay within that budget. What you paint or sew or read or how you vote are your affair. Is any of that unreasonable?" "No, darling," I whisper. "Of course, I do expect plenty of sex and your very fine performance in bed," she declares with a naughty grin. "And ours will be a childless marriage, for obvious reasons. Is that okay with you, my future Mrs Wallner? Obviously I expect you to take my family name." I smile and kiss her. Softly, I say, "Those things I can do if that's what you expect of an obedient wife. I'd gladly let you handle the budget and I'd follow you anywhere, darling. There's just one more major thing." "Yes? What is troubling that wonderful brain of yours, my Althea?" "I have lost touch with most of my family and, sad to say, I don't really care. Except. Except for my Grandma, Hester Jones. You know how special she has been to me. She protected me, encouraged me, got me through a lot of rough spots. She mothered me more than my mother. When my pop tried several times to interfere, like trying to stop me from going away to college, Grandma Hester took him on. Her own son. She never feared telling him off when she believed him to be wrong. I have told her a lot about you. We talk regularly. But, uh, well, um, I uh, never yet, um, not quite, you understand, got around to telling her about this." I touch my breasts. Dora grins wildly. "Well, how about if I help you do that?" I look at her quizzically. "Just what exactly do you have in mind, darling?" "Suppose that we spend next weekend at that lovely house of yours. I know Grandma doesn't drive anymore. While you cook up one of your super- duper luncheons, I will go pick her up. She can spend the weekend with us. Over good food and a bit of bourbon-she does still drink her bourbon, doesn't she?- we can talk it all out. If it seems right, I will go down on my knees in front of your grandmother and respectfully ask her for your hand in marriage." I'm in shock. "Would you really?" "Yes, I would really. However, if she says yes and gives us her blessing, you are stuck. You can not back out if Grandma Hester approves. It will be a life sentence. If you try to back out, I will sue you for breach of promise." My stomach bounces inside of me. My mind whirls. My heart is all a twitter. "Yes, but I have one condition of my own." "So much for being an obedient wife," she snorts. "What sort of condition, you uppity miss?" I smile at her. "Grandma has to agree to walk me down the aisle and give me away." Dora laughs. "Done and done! You better start shopping for a wedding gown. And I know just the place where I will take her for a mother of the bride dress. Your fate is sealed, sweetie. You are going to be my wife!" The days move in quick blur. Thursday evening Dora arrives at my home. Early the next morning I fix us a light breakfast. Dora drives me to the salon for a 7 a.m. appointment to have my hair and nails done. She watches as Stella puts my hair up on rollers and pops me under a dryer. While the manicurist does my nails, finishing them with ruby-red polish, Stella gives Dora a shampoo, trim and blow dry. By the time my hair and nails are dry, Dora is finished and she sits next to me as Stella removes my rollers and styles me in an attractive concoction of curls. As we drive back to the house Dora says, "All the while Stella was doing my hair I watched you in the mirror, sitting there so sweetly having your manicure. You are one hot chick, girl!" I smile appreciatively. My stomach does flip-flops. Will Grandma approve of the way I look? Will she approve of me becoming Dora's wife? If she does, I will be Dora's fiancee by the end of the day. Am I ready for marriage? Ready to be a bride? I still feel some uncertainty. We change clothes. Dora dresses herself in a glamourous burgundy top, figure-hugging grey pants and brown boots with a medium heel. She looks so wonderful that I wish we had time to snuggle. She selects an orange- and-black blouse, orange skirt, beige pantyhose and black pumps with 4" heels for me to wear. I worry that the skirt is far too short and shows too much leg but Dora insists. Underneath it I wear an extra-firm panty girdle to accent my curves. Dora hugs me and gives me a soft kiss. She has not met Grandma before and I hope all goes well between the two most important women in my life. She picks up her handbag and car keys, looks at her watch. "Alright, darling. It's a 45 minute drive to her complex. I'm figuring maybe 10 minutes to assist her from her apartment and into the car and another 45 minutes back here. So, my dear, you have a solid hour and a half plus a bit to fix luncheon. I should be back here between 12:30 and 12:45." She squeezes my hand. "Stop worrying, honey. It's going to be fine. Now tend to your kitchen duties." I have planned my menu and worked on it all week. Smoked salmon and watercress pinwheels for an appetizer. Pea and mint soup for the first course. Open-face pork sandwiches, the pork cooked with a garlic and herb coating. A green salad with honey and lemon dressing to accompany the sandwiches. Red-wine-and-caramel mousse for dessert. My preparation pays off. Cooking goes well. I look at the clock. Almost 12 noon. I go to the bedroom and apply my makeup with extra special care. When I hear the sound of tires on the gravel driveway, I look at the clock? 12:45 exactly. As I go to open the door I hear Grandma Hester?s silvery laughter, a sound which has delighted me all my life. She smiles at me as I open the door. Short, slim, ramrod straight, Grandma wears a magnificent purple dress and higher heels than one would expect from a woman of her age. Obviously she has recently had a perm and her white curls look lovely. Her fingers sport flame-red polish. I bend down to kiss and hug her. As she hugs me back she tenderly caresses my breasts. The warmth of her touch reaches through my bra and I have to hold back tears. With a smile that could melt frost, she says, ?Honey, you?ve grown more beautiful than your sisters. You look a lot like your Aunt Laura.? This high praise makes my heart bounce. Laura was Grandma?s first born. A beautiful woman who always wore fashionable clothes, the brightest red lipstick I ever saw, and smelt of fine soap and expensive cologne. She died unexpectedly when I was 15 years old, a terrible shock for Grandma. Dora grins from ear to ear. She takes Grandma?s suitcase to the guestroom while I guide this adorable old woman to a chair. ?A sip of bourbon before lunch, Grandma? Straight up or on the rocks?? She grins. ?I was hoping you?d say that. On the rocks, please, honey, with a tiny dash of club soda, if you?ve got it. A lady my age can?t go overboard.? We laugh. I fix Grandma?s bourbon and a scotch and soda for Dora. I serve the smoked salmon and watercress pinwheels and leave them to continue getting acquainted while I finish setting the table and double check things in my kitchen. Removing my apron I walk into the living room, noting Dora?s appreciative glance at my legs. ?Luncheon is served, ladies. If you would come to the table, please?? Our eating and conversation proceed at a leisurely pace as we fill Grandma in on pertinent details of the last two years and key parts of last weekend?s conversation. My heart jumps to my throat when as we are finishing dessert, Dora gets up, moves to the side of Grandma?s chair and kneels down. Taking Grandma?s hands in her own, she says, ?Mrs Jones, I am in love with your granddaughter Althea. I want very much to make her my wife. I am profitably employed, own my home, am debt free and can provide for her rather handsomely. Mrs Jones, may I have your granddaughter?s hand in marriage?? Grandma?s eyes glisten with happy tears. ?Yes, Dora, you may have my granddaughter?s hand in marriage. I think you two will do just fine together. As you know she is a very special being and I worried for the longest time about who would take care of her when I?m gone. I pray a blessing on you both, my dears.? To my surprise, Dora comes to the side of my chair, kneels down and from somewhere produces a black velvet little box. She opens it and removes a sparkling diamond engagement ring. Taking my left hand and kissing it gently, she says, ?Miss Althea Jones you are the love of my life. You heard your Grandma approve and bless us. Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?? I barely have enough voice to say ?Yes, darling? and she slides the ring on my finger. We exchange a passionate kiss and bone-rattling hug than both go and hug Grandma. When calm is restored I brew and serve coffee. Stirring her coffee, Grandma says, ?I?ll say this, Dora, honey, you are getting a damn fine cook for a wife.? Dora and I laugh. Turning to me, Grandma declares, ?I like your new name Althea. Honey, that?s a better and more appropriate name for you than Gavin. Did you know, honey, that your Aunt Laura was a lipstick lesbian? She and her ?roommate? Keyna had what once upon a time was referred to as a ?Boston marriage.? Almost twenty years since Laura died and Keyna still stays in touch with me, much to your father?s disgust. He was embarrassed by his older sister and there was some bad blood between them. That?s why he disapproved of you spending so much time with her. Keyna has never partnered with anyone else. On the anniversary of Laura?s death she most always spends the day with me.? She looks wistful. ?Grandma? May I ask a favor of you?? ?Certainly, honey. What can I do for you?? I swallow hard. ?Obviously we are going to have a small ceremony. You?ll be my only family member present. Would you walk me down the aisle and give me away?? She smiles. ?Honey, I?d be honored! Have you two set a date?? ?Not yet. Now that we have your blessing,? I answer, ?we need to work on planning. While you?re here this weekend, maybe you could help us?? ?Absolutely! Glad to do it. Let me start right now with some advice for the bride. Maybe I shouldn?t say some of these things in front of your husband-to-be but you know me. I speak my mind and I know you well, honey. Be a model wife for her. Be obedient. Follow her lead. Do as she tells you. Wear your hair and makeup and clothes to please her. I suspect you already are from what you two shared over our fine luncheon but don?t stop once you?ve taken her name as yours and have her ring on your finger. Keep your figure. Never refuse her when she wants sex. That is key for a good wife. Satisfy your husband. Always. Even when it feels inconvenient for you. When she comes home from work greet her at the door in a nice dress. You are obviously a good cook. Cook things she especially likes. Keep a good house for her. Be by her side when you can help her career. Know when to keep your mouth shut. For example, if you go to a beauty shop where neighbors and the wives of her co-workers go, don?t gossip while you?re having your hair done. Rather listen to those women and gather information that might help your husband. Likewise in a bridge club or at the grocery store or when you?re gardening do twice as much listening as you do talking. It pays off, honey. On the other hand find at least one or a couple of other wives with whom you can become very good girl friends. Every wife needs one or two close friends to whom she can bitch sometimes, in confidence of course, and can listen to her girl friends when they need to sound off.? ?I?ll try Grandma,? I answer. ?I know you will, honey. Now a word or two to you, Dora. If Althea ever does get out of line, you call me. I can and will put her over my knee and paddle that pretty behind of hers.? ?Grandma!? I screech, ?You wouldn?t? Would you?? ?I?m teasing. Honey, did I ever lay a finger on you? Even when you ruined my favorite rose bush? But I want you to know, Dora, you can always confide in me. Treat me as a mother-in-law who understands you and loves you. After all, you?re marrying my favorite granddaughter. Remember to be a good husband. When she comes from the beauty shop, compliment her on her hair. When she wears a new dress, tell her how much you like it. Praise her cooking and her housekeeping. Don?t ever criticize her in front of others, especially your colleagues. And especially remember this. A beautiful wife like Althea while being submissive in bed, can wrap you around her pretty little finger. Sexy wives have plenty of wiles to get their way so be attentive and considerate. When she is squirming and squealing with delight under you, satisfying your needs, be attentive to her needs. And her wants. A wife who gives you all of herself, is entitled to have her reasonable wants satisfied as much as her needs. Trust her with the domestic part of your marriage. I know she is going to be a great housekeeper. With Althea you won?t have to worry about her having her monthlies but if she says she doesn?t feel like it some night respect that. Sometimes what a wife needs more than getting her ashes hauled is just a lot of cuddling, petting and plenty of pillow talk. I think you know all those things, Dora. You seem to have the makings of a sensible husband. Just don?t forget them. I think Althea will make a very proper wife. Honor her. Respect her. Don?t ever take a girl like this for granted. She?s quite the package. Beauty, brains, talent, high spirits. Above all love her.? ?Thank you, Grandma. I will love her. I promise,? Dora declares. ?Do you mind if I call you Grandma?? ?Certainly, dear girl. Do so. I expect nothing less. I?m the matriarch in the family. And don?t either of you forget it!? After I put away left-overs and start the dish washer, the three of us sit in the living. Dora insists that I sit on her lap. Grandma smiles approvingly. Soon we are actually talking wedding plans. It becomes clear that in our small wedding, there will be few people on the bride?s side. Suddenly Grandma?s face lights up. ?Girls, if it?s not out of place, may I make a suggestion?? We assure it that?s fine. ?Althea, every bride should have at least one attendant, a maid or matron of honor. What would you think about asking Keyna to be your matron of honor? She still thinks of you fondly and often asks me about you. She admires your work. Any time she sees your things in a gallery show she tells me. She is your aunt by marriage, if you know what I mean, and she has many fond memories of your time with her and Laura. I?m sure that if you asked her, she?d accept. What do you think?? ?I like the idea.? Turning to Dora, I ask, ?Husband of mine, what do you think?? ?I love it, Mrs Wallner! A great idea! From what Grandma told us over lunch, I think we should honor your Aunt Laura in some way and having her widow as your matron of honor would be grand.? ?I?m glad I thought of that,? Grandma adds. ?If you both approve and this is your weekend to plan the wedding, why not call her and invite her to drive over here tomorrow afternoon? I?m sure I have her phone number in my address book in my handbag. She?ll be home from work in a few hours. She?d love to see how beautiful you?ve become, Althea. And she?ll be impressed with you, Dora. Not only is your future wife a lot like her aunt, I think you have a lot in common with Keyna.? I spend much of Saturday morning fixing a nice luncheon for our meeting with Keyna. My menu consists of my homemade tomato soup, a cheese and spinach quiche, whole wheat rolls and banana cake for dessert. Dora dashes out to buy a nice wine to accompany the meal. Grandma sets the table for me. At Dora?s instance I wear a two-piece silver dress, black tights and open-toed, ankle-strap black sandals with a high heel. I select dangling silver earrings and a matching necklace. Of course I worry that my skirt is much too short but Grandma supports Dora, insisting I look great when showing off my legs. Just as I finish the last touches of my cooking I hear Grandma introducing Dora to Keyna. I remove my apron and walk in to greet my aunt?s one true love. I haven?t seen Keyna in five or six years but she looks unchanged except for attractive grey streaks at both temples. Dressed in a green silk blouse and yellow skinny jeans, she looks as slender as ever. With a start I realize that she is exactly as tall as my Dora. Keyna?s mouth drops open when she sees me. She runs across the room and sweeps me off my feet in bear hug, lifting me right off the floor. ?My god! Gavin, you look just like my Laura! You?re stunning!? I kiss her and say softly, ?It?s Althea now, not Gavin.? Gently she puts me down. ?Wow! I guess you three are going to fill me. That?s fine. I planned to be here all afternoon anyway.? Two and a half hours later, every last bite of luncheon gone, and as we sip our refilled cups of coffee, I look at her and say, ?I have a favor, a big favor, to ask, Keyna. It?s going to be a small, private wedding but I would love for you to be my matron of honor. If that?s okay with you?? ?Good god, Althea! That?s more than okay! I consider it an honor! You got it, girl.? Dora and I both go hug her. As I sit back down, Keyna says, ?I gotta say, Althea, just like your Aunt Laura, you are one fine lookin lipstick lesbian chick!? Dora practically falls off her chair laughing. Six weeks fly by. Helped by Grandma Hester, Keyna and Stella, my hairdresser, I am preparing to walk down the aisle in a little chapel and pledge my love to Dora. Grandma laces me into my bridal corset, slowly and firmly bringing my waist down to 17 inches. As she does, she tells me, ?Honey, remember that the whole purpose of this corset is to heighten sexual tension and, ultimately, release when your husband takes you like never before. All during the ceremony and the reception Dora will be looking at your slender middle and increasingly getting hot in her panties as she thinks about putting you in the bridal bed. With your diminutive waist you will be the envy of every woman and sensuously attractive to every man present. When your husband begins to undress you, blush and giggle demurely. Make her go slowly so her desire will increase.? Once Grandma has me constricted in the lacy white garment, Keyna laughs. ?You?re simply gorgeous. I?m just glad that it?s you in that corset and not me.? She and Grandma help me into my stockings, the slip, the crinoline and my wedding gown. Grandma buttons the numerous buttons up the back and the two at each wrist. Keyna slides the bridal garter up my leg which gives me a feeling both happy and nervous. I am about to wed! Keyna puts my feet into the white satin pumps with 4" heels. Stella applies my makeup, using a brow pencil on my brows, plenty of mascara on my lashes, one shade of green eye shadow on my eye lids and a different green under my hazel eyes, eye liner which she extends into a sexy line, blush on my cheeks to give me a rosy glow and does my lips with lip liner, gloss, and two coats of warm pink lipstick which matches the polish on my fingers and toes. With her usual dexterity she removes the curlers from my hair and proceeds with comb, bush and hair spray to build a curly confection on the top of my head. With her help Grandma places the veil on my head and gently lowers it over my face. She leaves the motel, saying she?ll be eagerly watching me come down the aisle in the chapel. The chauffeur Dora hired helps me, Grandma and Keyna into the limo. ?Get us to the church on time,? Grandma jokes. She and Keyna both look stunning. Grandma wears a fashionable cobalt blue dress with black T- strap pumps. Keyna presents in a striking silver lame cocktail dress and silver sandals. ?I want you know that this is the first time I?ve worn a dress in five years,? Keyna tells me. ?That?s how special you are, Althea.? At the chapel, Grandma walks me to my groom at a stately processional pace. I feel relief that it?s a small chapel with a short aisle. Dora stares admiringly at me as I approach. She and her good friend Tess, serving as best woman, wear white tuxedos with white patent pumps. When Reverend Rachel asks, ?Who gives this woman to be married?? I tremble with joy as I hear the response, ?I give my granddaughter in marriage.? I tremble again as I swear to love, honor and obey Dora ?until death do us part.? After the exchange of vows and of rings, I kneel while Reverend Rachel prays over me that I may be a good and faithful wife who brings honor to my husband. Once I am officially Mrs Dora Wallner we go to a lovely dinner in the private dining room at one of the finest restaurants in the city. As soon Dora and I sit down at the bridal table with our small wedding party, our guests commence clinking silverware against their glasses, calling for the bride and groom to stand and kiss in a public display of affection. Dora stands up, takes me firmly in her arms, tilts me back and performs a tonsillectomy which leaves me gasping. I feel the heat of her passion all the way to my stocking feet and blush as I retake my seat, to the evident delight of everyone at the reception, especially Grandma. They make us repeat the performance seven more times. Dancing follows our delicious meal and again I turn scarlet when I must sit for Dora to raise my skirt and remove the garter. Any number of her friends? male and female, lesbian and straight? make suggestive comments as she ever so slowly slides the garter down my leg. After the garter toss, a champaign toast and sharing wedding cake, we dash through a shower of rice into the limo. At the door to the bridal suite in one of the best hotels Dora picks me up and carries me over the threshold. Slowly and lovingly we undress each other. I do not know if it is actually being a wife or having her name or wearing her ring or Grandma?s direction or Reverend Rachel?s prayer, but I shake all over like a virgin bride as Dora uses her strong hands to effortlessly hold my hips, probing and entering the tender flesh of the opening between the shapely curves of my buttocks. We have made love like this many times but tonight her strap-on feels powerful, wide, rock hard, totally rigid. I am being penetrated, stuffed, skewered as a wife is skewered by her husband. She completely controls me. I writhe and whimper with pleasure as her staff impales me. With her fully inside my bottom, she reaches her skilled fingers around, grabs my love tool and makes me rise to the occasion. I feel submissive, obedient and absolutely, physically, mentally and spiritually hers. She wants me and needs me. My wiggling increases. Dora?s thrusts come harder still and I explode with pleasure, feeling her orgasm too as she squeezes me ever so tightly. The next morning we catch a flight to Hawaii. For ten beautiful days we are a honeymoon couple. I am complete as a person. I know now that being Dora?s wife is the fulfillment of my life. It is eighteen months since I have become Mrs Dora Wallner. I am extremely happy. My wonderful husband converted a back section of the house into a mother-in-law apartment with its own entrance. We moved Grandma Hester into it two months after our marriage. Dora insisted that we keep my lakeside house as a place for us to get away when she needs a break from the pressures of work. (She is now Vice-President of Marketing.) I have a studio space here as well as in the lakeside house to work on my painting and needlecraft which I now show and sell under the name Althea Wallner. (Yes, that was my show last month in San Francisco!) My dinner parties have become famous, not only with Dora?s co-workers but with many new friends in the arts community. As Dora foretold, several other corporate wives invited to play golf with them at the country club. I?ve become a pretty decent player. With Grandma?s encouragement I have found two other wives with whom to share intensely. We have become best girl friends. Zoe is a gorgeous femme lesbian whose husband Cara, a classic butch, owns and operates a large and successful car dealership and garage. Petula, a delicate and sweet straight woman, is married to Theo, a prominent civil rights lawyer. So the lesbian, the straight woman and the she-male are best friends, ladies who lunch, and shop and gossip together. We often laugh at how similar our husbands are, extremely demanding in the bedroom, extremely proud of their beautiful wives. Talking frankly with each other we discovered that each of our husbands likes to regularly take the wife in the alluring ampleness of our feminine derrieres. Somehow we find it a bit comforting to know that our friends have literally been in the same position. We also trade secrets on exercising our feminine wiles. It?s amazing the things to which a submissive wife can make her husband agree. Stella, unwilling to lose a customer such as me, opened another beauty salon here in the city where Dora and I live. I introduced Zora and Petula to the salon and they too have become regulars. It is Friday morning. Grandma and I are going to the salon for our weekly manicures and hairstyling. This afternoon I shall cook and bake for my husband. Before she comes home from work I will change into a pretty dress and a pair of high heels, check my makeup and apply my best perfume. This weekend, as all my weekends are now, will be a lovely weekend. The End (Really the Beginning of My New Life!)