Sally and her black lover Eddie invite me to visit
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Sally 10 Till 2 free porn video
Sally 10 till 2
I settled back on the couch with my cup of tea, and imagined Laura doing
the same with her coffee on the other end of the phone. Laura and I were
friends forever and lovers often, despite our respective marriages. She
was well on the way to being rich and had easily hit the absolutely
gorgeous checkpoint with no effort. I had managed to parlay my wit and
humour past the obvious mis-match in out attractiveness and lifestyles.
She was capable of being wild, filthy, supremely loving, and, on a regular
basis, cruel. I burned for her night and day.
On this particular day she had a rich girl's problem. Her cleaner was
struggling to fit in the hours required by Laura on a Friday due to family
commitments. I had never had a cleaner so knew I would be of no help. As
she ran over some options it occurred to me that I had known Laura for so
decades but from the very first meeting we were friends. I had never known
what it she was like to interact with as a stranger, as a third party to
her life instead of someone close. The closest, in my case, given where my
tongue went every few weeks. A question cracked over everything else in my
mind. I felt that leap in my stomach associated with the taboo and knew I
should not ask it. Unfortunately Laura stopped talking at the exact moment
and lunacy overtook me.
"When your cleaner speaks to you, does she call you Laura, or Mrs
Marshall?" I asked, pretty absent mindedly I thought. Idiot.
"What?" said Laura, properly surprised. "Why are you asking that? Do you
disapprove?"
I could sense wheels turning at terrifying speed in her head. Then she
made an exasperated noise and nailed me first time
"Is this one of your things? Do YOU want to call me Mrs Marshall?"
Years ago, I had confessed my weakness for fantasies of becoming female,
and we had sometimes played what for me were wonderfully exciting games in
bed, with Laura on top and sitting just at the point where my cock seemed
to be attached to her body. As usual, she had made an intuitive leap that
something was going on with me.
"No, it's not that necessarily." I knew I wasn't helping myself. "It's
just I've never seen you act with a stranger."
"Sally isn't a stranger. She has been my cleaner for years."
"But she isn't your friend, that is what I mean."
"So you want to know how I act when I am not with a friend? Why, for God's
sake?"
"It's just something I have never seen, and I have seen a lot of you."
"I don't get it, but I'll do it if you want," she said in a resigned tone.
"Thanks baby, I know it is a strange one."
"You're the strange one. Alright. Since Sally can't come tomorrow and I am
supposed to be seeing you in the afternoon anyway you come over here at 10
and you can be Sally for the day. But I will treat you exactly as I treat
her - I'm not going to make it up to do some stupid fantasy. I need the
place cleaned and the washing done. Do you understand?"
"Thanks honey, you are the best."
"And for the record, yes, my cleaner calls me Mrs Marshall."
Then she hung up without saying goodbye properly. My insides flipped so
much I had to lie down.
The next morning I parked in the private drive of her large but tasteful
house. As usual I went to the back door, but not as usual it was locked. I
knocked. Then after a minute knocked again.
Laura appeared behind the glass looking stunning as always. That hadn?t
changed.
She unlocked the door.
?Oh Sally, it?s you,? she said. ?I forgot you had left your key last week
when your clothes got dirty. They are upstairs in the spare room if you
want to get changed.?
Laura stood to the side and motioned that I should go on in on my own. I
went up to the spare room and stopped in my tracks at the sight of the
clothes laid out on the guest bed. There was a pale pink blouse, a denim
skirt, a pink bra, a pair of very opaque looking black tights and some
kind of black spanx type body control underwear. But what made my heart
jump a beat was the two flesh coloured breast forms. I picked one up, they
were similar to the ones I had bought many years ago and played with once
or twice with Laura, but these breasts were up a few grades from those. In
particular the moulded nipple and areole were amazingly realistic. There
was a note beside them which read ?Hurry up Sally, or I will have to think
about docking your wages xx?. This bode well for some fun later.
I dressed quickly. These were not the real Sally?s clothes. I had seen
Sally here briefly, sometimes leaving as I arrived. This was the kind of
thing she would wear but Laura had obviously gone shopping after my phone
call as the sizes fit my frame which, although not exactly a muscular
body, was not the petite shape of the actual cleaner. And the breast
forms? How did she get hold of them overnight? Money not an object I
supposed.
I checked myself as best I could in the wall mirror. Not the first time I
noticed that whilst my face was incongruous, that was because my body
could carry female clothing very well, really remarkable well I thought as
I dropped the second breast form into place. The first one was already
warming up to skin temperature, and clung slightly with the pressing
support of the bra. I bounced on tip toe and my boobs jiggled with me. I
bounced off down the stairs, my skirt brushing my legs above the knee,
dense but surprisingly thin tights hiding all trace of any hair. In
Laura?s house it was always shoes off. Now it was shoes off, boobs on.
She was sitting at the large dining table which sat parallel to the units,
drinking a cup of coffee and eating chopped mango and yoghurt, her
favourite breakfast. What was different was she had a newspaper spread out
in front of her. I had never seen her eat and read before, normally I was
at the other end of the table and she was focussed on me.
She looked up as I came into the room. I saw the barest flicker of a smile
before it vanished, but her eyes were strange.
?I?ll be out of your way in a minute honey, you just carry on with the
floor.?
I was confused for a second or two by the ?honey?, but then I realised
this was not said with the warmth and meaning that I had heard it carry,
rather it was said in a throwaway and meaningless way in place of a name,
a patronising pat on the head or bottom. How strange that the same word
could be used in such a different way between two people.
There was a bucket and scrubbing brush sitting beside the stone tiled
floor. I filled the bucket, clumsily added the detergent from the bottle I
found inside the bucket and started to scrub. Laura turned the pages of
her newspaper and said nothing. She did not look at me. After a few
minutes she stood up and folded her paper.
?I?m going upstairs to work Sally. When you are finished down here you can
strip the beds and put the washing on. Can you try and not disturb me too
much??
The combination of her off-hand manner and pull inside my blouse as I
knelt on the floor with the brush made my cock strain inside its shaping
garment.
?Of course, Mrs Marshall,? I said.
Laura sauntered out of the kitchen and I heard her singing to herself as
she went up the stairs. Singing, and laughing a little. Normally I would
be going with her, and in about half an hour she would be moaning under my
hands as I massaged her gorgeous breasts before bringing my mouth across
her hard nipples.
Her breakfast dishes were on the table. I tidied them away.
I had just finished the floor and hoovered the downstairs carpets when I
heard Laura shout, ?Sally!?
I climbed the stairs to the study door. I put my hand on the handle but
something then seized me and I stopped, straightened myself up, and
knocked. This time I did hear her giggle, however quickly she tried to
stifle it.
?Come in Sally,? she called.
She was at the desk working on the computer. With her glasses on she was
even sexier and very slightly more authoritarian, and she knew it. She
glanced up from the screen. ?Bring me some coffee please Sally, and one of
those cakes from the tin. I shouldn?t but I?m going to. You won?t tell
George, will you? We are going out to a gala tonight and I have to fit in
that stupid dress he bought me.?
?No, Mrs Marshall, I won?t tell.?
She smiled and went back to whatever she was typing. I didn?t enjoy that
so much. The unwritten rule between us was spouses were never mentioned
unless absolutely necessary. But she would mention him to Sally. And I was
Sally.
I took the coffee in on a tray with the cake. Laura did not take her eyes
off the screen. ?Thank you Sally, just leave it there.?
As I put the tray down she looked up at me over the top of her glasses.
?Do you want to have your break now sweetie? Take an extra five minutes if
you like. Start again at quarter to twelve?.
That meant my break was twenty minutes, and apparently it should be
fifteen
?Ok, I will.?
I stared into her eyes, wondering what form this break might take, what I
might be taking a break from.
?Off you go then,? she said. ?Make yourself a coffee. I?ll shout if I need
you.?
I was suddenly incredibly conscious of my bra, my blouse, my skirt. The
way my temporary boobs put weight across my back and my nipples were eye
level with Laura. The clothes seemed to cling, to shrink me down, to
envelope me in their Sally-ness. I left the study, a little disappointed
but still bizarrely excited.
Behind me Laura called out, ?Sally! Come back!?
My heart leapt as I turned. ?Yes, Mrs Marshall??
?On second thoughts put the washing on first, will you??
I whipped the sheets off the bed as quickly as I could, tortured by the
memory of the many times Laura had been fucked by me to the point of
losing the power of language. She did not now allow me to penetrate her ?
although I had done in the past ? so I made her come explosively either
with my tongue teasing then pounding her clit, or with her bouncing on top
of me in just her pants. A few times I had made her climax purely from
playing with her tits. Oh god, her tits. She had said from our first time
that she did not enjoy being penetrated, and if was possible she would
have herself sealed. That excited me in a way that I could not define.
The phone rang and Laura bounded down the stairs to answer. I heard her
voice drift up to the landing and through the open bedroom door
?...hiya gorgeous...nothing, Sally is here...no, I won?t tell you...stop
it George, you would not! I will smack your bottom you naughty boy!
....no...I am not saying that...no...NO! stop it, Sally is here...I love
you too, see you tonight sweetheart....?
I was insanely jealous as I tucked in the clean sheets for Laura?s bed.
George and Laura?s bed.
Back downstairs I emptied the laundry basket, sorting Laura?s fancy
lingerie from the more sturdy items. I was starting to lose my enthusiasm
for the day. Here I was putting Laura?s bras and pants into the washing
machine when I should have been taking them off her with my teeth. Worse,
I was handling George?s underwear and shirts.
?Sally,? Laura shouted from upstairs, ?I need you!?
This sounded promising. I couldn?t believe a being as rampant as Laura had
managed to keep this arm?s length game going for so long without wanting
something extra.
?I?m in the bedroom, Sally,? she shouted again as I as was halfway up the
stairs. Thank you God, thank you.
The bedroom door was open and I could see her standing with her back to
me. She was looking in the full length mirror, wearing a beautiful full
length black sequin gown, unzipped at the back down to the small of her
back, nearly but not quite showing the top of her delicious backside. Her
long blonde hair was piled on the top of her head and she was holding it
there with one hand. The gown was daringly cut at the front, with her
breasts appearing on the point of spilling out at any second, although
this was just a clever, and no doubt very expensive, illusion.
?Zip me up will you??
I obliged, and she contemplated her reflection, still holding up her hair.
?What do you think? Too much??
?No,? I said, a little huskily, "I like it.?
Laura pouted at herself a little
?To be honest I am worried that all George?s friends will be looking down
my top all night. Free show! I hate that. But he did spend a fortune on it
so I am going to wear it. Ok, unzip me again please.?
I slowly pulled down the zipper, drinking in her naked back, close enough
to smell her natural scent.
?Thank you sweetie,? said Laura simply, then turned around, moving back
slightly. She looked me in the eye. Neither of us said anything for a few
seconds.
?Yes?? she said, a little curtly. ?Do you need something Sally? Are we out
of washing powder or something??
?No...I thought...?
But she cut me off.
?Well, you still have half an hour. There is a pile of ironing by back
door cupboard, do that before you go if you can. I had better hang this
monstrosity back up till tonight although why I am bothering I do not know
as no doubt it will end up being torn off me and thrown on the floor at
the end of the evening once George has had a few drinks.?
My head was spinning. I was trying to process the anger I felt at her
putting the image of George ripping off her dress and the painful pleasure
of being dismissed from her presence without a thought.
?Come on Sally, ironing please. George won?t be happy if his shirts are
not done and god knows I?m not going to do them.?
I left the room and shouted over her shoulder ?Close the door behind you
please?.
In the back porch I found the laundered shirts and ironing board. In a fog
I pressed one after another, there seemed to be a never ending amount but
finally it was the last one. As I hung put the last one on the hanger I
realised Laura was there, and had been watching me for a while.
?That?s fine Sally, it?s two o?clock now so you can go,? she said.
?Thank God,? I said, and went to embrace her.
Laura put up her hands in front of her chest before I could get to her.
?Stop,? she said, ?I need to speak to you.?
?What? Have I upset you? Was this too much? I?m sorry,? I said trying to
move in again but she stepped back.
?I?m serious. You know I have been unhappy with all the cheating for a
long time. I justified it to myself by thinking you were the most
remarkable man I had ever known, but today looking at you in your little
skirt doing my washing, I don?t know, I thought having boobs in your bra
had made you a little sub-servient, but now it seems clear that it has
bought out the real you. I can?t do it. I can?t be with you anymore like
we used to be. It is for the best, for both of us, for both our
marriages.?
?Oh no...baby...don?t...? I felt like bars were slamming shut in front of
me.
?I know you need to see me, and you can. But it has to be like this. And
you can?t call me baby anymore. You can come over from 10 till 2 every
Tuesday and be Sally. You can get changed here and you can go as far as
you want in being her, I don?t mind. I will help you a bit if you like in
getting what you need. I know being a woman is more than a fantasy for
you, you actually want it, don?t deny it. I have so much money of my own
money, more than you know, more than even George knows. If you want to go
further I can pay for it. If you want implants, even the whole package,
your own vagina, I?ll fund it, no one will know. For now you can be a
woman, every week, here. I?m not being horrible to you, I?m just trying to
find a way that at least you can get something you need now that you can?t
have me. But understand this ? we can maybe talk a little more than today
sometimes but we can?t be friends. I cannot be friends with my cleaner,
she is my employee and there has to be a distance. I?m sorry to be harsh
about it but I have a position and you are too far below it to be in my
circle now. Here is a list of what you need to do each week, plus the jobs
that are occasional. Remember as well some Tuesdays I might not be here
when you are in the house, I am a very busy woman.?
She handed me a typewritten list, obviously what she had been working on
earlier. Stunned, I took it from her hand on autopilot. It was headed
?Sally Kirkpatrick, cleaning and help duties?. Kirkpatrick was my surname.
Sally was now my first name, at least in Laura?s world.
?I pay ?12.50 an hour, more than most people around here. I was pleased
with your work today so I have put in an extra ?5 on top. I don?t want you
going elsewhere.?
She smiled, and there was a little madness in the smile. ?Your money is on
bunker there.?
?Laura...please...don?t...? I stammered.
?It?s not Laura,? she snapped, ?it?s MRS MARSHALL! And don?t you forget
it! Right, come on, hurry up and get changed back into your other clothes,
I?m late already. I was supposed to be meeting a friend but that is not
happening now, or ever again it seems, so I?m going out with one of my
girlfriends for coffee.? And so saying she turned on her heel, depositing
a bag with my actual clothes in them. Quickly I stripped off Sally?s
clothes and dressed as myself again. Or did I? Which was myself really?
Laura came bustling back in, and started to shoo me out of the door. ?See
you next Friday Sally, Have a good weekend.?
Before I knew where I was I was standing outside holding the paper, which
I saw now had a key taped to it. I walked down the drive trying to decide
if I was angry or excited as I thought of next Friday ? maybe Laura
wouldn?t look at me at all. Was that really what I wanted? Even though I
had changed my clothes I could still feel the bra, the pants, the bounce
of breasts, I felt the hem of a skirt as I walked.
My phone buzzed. A message from Laura. Surely it was all a joke, it would
say, come back you silly boy and have me.
I opened the text. It said ?Sally, just checked shirts. Not good enough.
Do better next week please. Mrs M.?
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