Unleashed by Nair Chapter 1
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Unleashed By Nair, Chapter 2 free porn video
This story takes place the day after the events of "Unleashed By Nair."
***
"Dammit, hon!" my wife's voice broke my reverie. Her head poked from the
bedroom doorway.
I'd been standing in the hall, transfixed by my image in the mirror.
I had flashed back to the day before, when I first saw my Naired legs,
along with the rest of my cream-skinned, hairless body, slimmed by months
of daily running, in that mirror.
The shock and excitement of seeing the hot girl of my dreams reflected
there had led to an evening that I hadn't quite processed yet.
Emboldened by my neighborhood being nearly deserted on the eve of the
Fourth of July, I had ventured out dressed in one of my wife's minis, a
spaghetti strap bandeau, and a pair of strappy high heels, my long,
creamy, newly hairless legs bare.
I had strolled to the donut shop and gas station that shared the corner
behind my house, stood on a normally busy street corner en femme, and
danced in the gas station driveway with the slender, leggy girl I saw
reflected in the donut shop window.
When the gas station owner - Hank, my secret crush - caught me dancing in
his driveway, I impulsively bared my body before him, first dropping my
mini to expose my ass and legs, then removing my top thrust my big puffy
nipples at him.
Then I danced naked in the service drive.
I introduced myself to Hank as Carla.
After we danced a Texas Two Step together, I practically gave him a
standing lap dance in the driveway, milking the bulge in his pants with
my bare ass.
Hank had responded by picking me up and pinning me like a butterfly
against the gas station wall, spreading my long, smooth legs wide, and
fucking me like a girl, in full view of the street.
He kept whispering "Carla" while fucking me.
Did all that happen just last night?
My wife broke into my fugue. "Dammit, it's bad enough that you have an
ass like a teenage girl. Now your legs look a Wolford model's - did you
wax them?"
"I used Nair."
My wife's eyes narrowed.
"You haven't been up to your habit, have you?" My cross-dressing habit,
she meant.
I'd been in "the grip," a powerful compulsion to cross-dress, these past
two weeks, my thoughts consumed by dressing like a girl, looking like a
girl.
I dissembled. "You know I've been dealing with the stress by running,
hon."
She blew a blonde lock out of her eyes, turned back to the bedroom. "I
should go running with you more often. You look really good. Not
exactly... studly. But really good..."
I entered the bedroom, carrying the jeans I'd retrieved from the dryer. I
was still trying to decide whether to wear Speedos underneath.
A Fourth of July picnic with a gang of my wife's college chums was in our
plans. The picnic area, on a fellow alum's property an hour away, had a
shaded, secluded swimming hole branching off the river.
Speedos under straight leg jeans it was. My jeans were slightly stretchy
women's CKs, 36 inseam, with the label removed. They fit my full ass
snugly.
I wore my usual long-sleeved sun-blocking running tee, in dark turquoise.
I tended to avoid sun exposure, something I'd picked up from my Chinese
mother, who was translucently fair.
It was a women's tee, but not overtly so.
I slathered SPF 80 on my moon face (also my mom's legacy). Carla looked
out through my big long-lashed doe eyes, a characteristic of (mostly)
women on my Scots-Irish dad's side.
A pair of Stan Smiths completed my ensemble.
I carried our cooler the quarter-mile to the picnic area, while my wife
toted a couple of folding camp chairs. We both wore Ray-Bans, floppy
hats, and ponytails, hers blonde and straight, mine dark and wavy.
An hour or so into festivities, I had a nice buzz from the beer and BBQ.
I sprawled on a camp chair in the shade, watching the jungleball game
that had sprung up a volleyball court that our host had set up on the
lawn.
Since I was in the grip, my inner girl was scoping out the men from
behind my Ray-Bans.
Tim, a tall, rangy, guy who had a nice thatch of brown hair on his tanned
chest, looked like a player. He moved like a panther in his board shorts,
all silken grace.
I'd played volleyball in high school, mainly because I liked the girls.
Most of them were the long and leggy and graceful jock ballerinas the
sport seemed to attract.
I wanted to be them.
I woke from a doze to my wife gently kicking the bottoms of my shoes.
"Hon, Tim and the guys want to play doubles."
I groaned, unfolded myself from the camp chair, doffed my floppy hat, and
kicked off my shoes.
I was paired with Tim. We had instant chemistry, reading each other and
playing together with a certain fluidity, which won frequent calls of,
"Nice play, hon!" from our wives.
The other team attempted a dink that just cleared the net. From a flat
dive, I bumped the ball up perfectly with the back of one hand for Tim to
crush.
Tim helped me up, then patted me on my ass as I walked back to serve.
"Nice play, hon," he said. I smiled at him over my shoulder, and give him
a hip-wiggle.
We played on that theme the rest of the game, saying "Nice play, hon" to
each other.
I flirted subtly with Tim, wiggling my toned, denim-clad ass at him as I
signaled our play with a hand behind my back.
For his part, Tim took every opportunity to touch and bump me in passing.
Our wives just rolled their eyes at the byplay.
After one point, we exchanged clasped hands above our heads after one
point; Tim, who was much taller and larger, pulled me into a quick hug
and squeezed my ass with one big hand. "Great play, hon."
Inside, Carla was swooning.
We won two straight games, then stopped for refreshments.
Halfway through our second beer, Tim said, "Hey, I could use a dip in the
swimming hole.".
I raised my eyebrows at my wife as I swigged my beer. "Sure," she said.
"Race you, hon," said Tim, as he swatted my ass and started to trot away.
I looked at my wife, who was gathering up some things. She laughed and
said, "Go ahead, we'll catch up."
The swimming holes were a few hundred yards away through more woodsy
terrain. Since I'd been running almost daily, easing past Tim on the path
didn't take long.
I shortened my stride, and pretended that I was prancing down a runway in
high heels. I could feel Tim behind me, ogling my long slender legs and
girly ass.
"I know a place to jump off," said Tim, as we reached the edge of the
water.
I followed Tim up a path to the left, which disappeared into the woods.
There was a ledge a short distance away, about 10-12 feet above the
swimming hole.
"Hold up," I said. I took off my Ray-Bans, smiled up at Tim, who smiled
back and studied my face.
"Nice eyes, hon," he said.
"Why, thank you, hon." I turned away to a nearby branch, took off my
shirt, and draped it on the branch. The air was cool on my slender,
hairless, toned torso; my big puffy nipples hardened and popped from my
cream-skinned chest.
I turned to face Tim, and pretended to fuss with my ponytail, giving him
a nice eyeful of my puffies as I thrust them at him. My underarms were
still smooth and hairless; I knew how femme I must have looked.
Seized by an impulse, I said to Tim, "No peeking, hon," not really caring
if he did.
I turned away, and peeled my jeans down to my knees, 'accidentally'
taking my Speedos with them.
I brought a hand to my mouth. "Oops," I said as I looked back at Tim.
I straightened and presented my full, creamy ass and long, smooth thighs
to Tim's view.
After a moment, I stepped out of both jeans and Speedos, picked my
Speedos, and slid them back on.
I let Tim get an eyeful of my long, hairless legs and feminized body as I
hung my jeans with my shirt on the tree.
I turned, smiled at Tim, sang, "Last one in is a rotten tamale!" and
jumped off the ledge.
The water was bracingly cold and deep. I treaded upright like a water
polo player as Tim cannonballed in a safe distance away. He came up
almost underneath me, caressing my legs and ass as he surfaced.
We paddled a bit and grinned at each other.
"Great body, hon," said Tim. "Wish I could take a longer look."
We were about a hundred feet from the shore where the main path came in.
There was no one yet in sight.
There was an indentation behind the ledge we had jumped off, with a bit
of shoreline.
Another powerful impulse seized me. "Stay right there, hon," I said.
I swam behind the ledge, climbed out of the water, and saw that I
wouldn't be visible from the path.
I turned my back to Tim, peeled off my Speedos, and pressed myself face-
first against the cliff wall, presenting my creamy ass and smooth legs to
Tim's view. My fair body contrasted starkly with the dark rock.
I tiptoed to lengthen my legs and display my ass better, reached my arms
up and spread-eagled against the cliff.
"Like what you see, hon?" I asked Tim, looking at him over one slim
shoulder.
Tim climbed out of the water, fondled my ass with both hands as he
pressed against me. "Such a sweet body, hon. And a really, truly gorgeous
ass."
My heart pounded as Tim dropped to his knees and started kissing,
licking, and fondling the smooth, soft skin of my butt.
He ran his big hands up the backs of my thighs to my ass, and squeezed
and kneaded the globes of my bubble butt.
I buried my face in the crook of my arm to stifle a scream as Tim gently
parted my ass cheeks with his hands, stuck his face between them, and
started tonguing my hairless asshole.
For endless moments, the only sounds were my suppressed moans, and the
sound of Tim loving my ass with his lips and tongue.
If Tim ate pussy like he ate my asshole, his wife was one happy lady.
I could feel myself opening up under Tim's passionate assault as he
started practically tongue-fucking me.
But I heard a peal of laughter in the distance.
"Tim, they're coming!"
I heard the rip of Velcro as Tim stood and unfastened his board shorts.
My asshole was so soft and wet from Tim's attentions that his big cock
slid balls deep into me on his first slow but relentless thrust.
I'd never been unfaithful to my wife in our five years of marriage. But
for the second time in two days, since Nairing my legs had truly
feminized and unleashed me, I had teased a man into fucking me in public.
I must be losing my mind.
Tim fucked my ass with long, powerful strokes, almost lifting me to my
toes at the end of each stroke.
He reached around, grabbed my big puffy nipples, and pinched and pulled
them in rhythm we fucked.
After a dozen or so strokes, he erupted. My body flushed in response to
the flood of hot seed that Tim was pumping deep into my ass.
Tim collapsed against me with a stifled groan, his arms around me, his
cock still hard and twitching deep inside me as he tried to embed his
cock in me.
"Oh so good, hon. Your ass is so fuckable."
I heard more laughter, even the murmur of conversation, from the
direction of the clearing.
I said to Tim, "Hon, they're here. Put your shorts on and jump in the
pool."
Tim pumped his cock into my willing asshole a couple more times, then
reluctantly withdrew. Semen streamed down the insides of my thighs.
He slid his board shorts back on, entered the water in a flat dive. I
heard shouts and laughter as he was spotted.
I saw that a ladder of two-by-fours, bolted to the cliff, led up to the
ledge from this side. I put on my Speedos and clambered up.
I reached the top, peeked out, and saw that the ledge was deserted.
I climbed the rest of the way, stood atop the ledge, and waved to the
handful of people in the clearing. My wife pointed and waved back.
I took a couple of steps back, ran, and dove off. I knifed into the deep
water and touched the bottom, where it was cool and dim.
I took a few moments to wash as much cum from my freshly-fucked ass as I
could, then swam to where others were starting to enter the water.
I emerged, squeezing water from my ponytail, as my wife met me with a
towel and a smile.
"Hon, you are such a showoff sometimes," she said.
Oh, hon, you have no idea.
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