The Jealousy Test Date free porn video

The day we first met, I was wearing a skirt without panties and he literally landed between my legs, looking up into “paradise” as he announced to the crowd. I’ve desperately tried to break the spell he has over me but discovered that I really don’t want to. Before I give myself over the wild abandon that has been our relationship thus far, I decided that he must pass my tests; well, my mother helped me decide. Guys may cry “foul” at that, but women will understand. If he is going to be in my life in any capacity, he must be able to handle me. Is he insecure or jealous like my last boyfriend, or can he pass the test? It was time to find out!

We met at a Renaissance Faire while he was fighting in a tournament, literally while he was fighting. His opponent laid a mighty blow on him and he flew across the arena, landing between my legs. He was brazen, insolent, bold, and very forward and confident. I also felt, at the time, that he was a showboat with a huge ego, kind of a “rock-star knight”. He was also charming, sensual, and his elfin features and gray-rimmed hazel eyes in tandem with his roguish attitude and constant mirth charmed me. I wanted to simultaneously punch him in the face and sit on his face.

He stripped my long, red sash from my waist and tied it around his arm to repair his damaged demonic-looking armor and waded back into the fray. He found me later and somehow turned the tables on me. It was like he had some hold over me, turning me into a submissive, giddy little girl that would say or do anything just to gain his attention. We met in a dream-like fairy tale atmosphere and his bizarre life swept me up like a whirlwind.

Each and every time we’ve been together it was either on his turf or at my place. I hoped, dreamed, and fantasized, despite reality, that he might be “the one”. I hate the power he has over me but I love it at the same time. With my mind, my heart, my dripping-wet loins, and my hopes pulling me in different directions, I became confused over how to handle things. Not knowing exactly what to do, I did what any woman in my position would do. I cried to my mommy!

“Well, Kryssie,” she said with understanding. I could also detect delight and humor in her voice. “It seems to me that each and every time you’ve been with him he was in his comfort zone. It’s easy to keep your cool when you’re the one calling the shots.”

She continued. “What you might want to do is to get him out his element and see how he reacts to your wild streak. If he acts like all the others you thought were perfect for you, then you’ll know better, or at least to be wary.”

I thanked her for her sage advice, as always, and she drew out the tale of how we met. I left out the part where I masturbated for him in front of about twenty almost-total strangers. I did not leave out the threesome, though. She asked me what he looked like and I had a picture of him on my cell phone. I sent it to her. She agreed that he is handsome in a smiling rogue, elfin way.

Our conversation concluding, my mother said one last thing to me. “One thing, honey,” she said.

“Yes, mom.”

“If it doesn’t work out, give him my number, Okay?”

“You are such a slut, mom.”

“Like mother, like daughter! Love you, Kryssie.”

Mother knows best! I had my devious plan all worked out. I mulled it over and revised it all through the week. The next time we’re together, I would pull him out of his Medieval swamp, avoid my house altogether, and make him take me out on a real date. Then I would go crazy and let my inner sex-goddess run free to see how he reacts. I would go full-on “slut” and if he cannot handle it, then I would be forewarned. Also, I hadn’t had a proper date in ages!

I waited all through the week for him to contact me. I barely managed to resist the urge to do so myself. He’d contacted me every now and then but it seemed friendlier than the “I want to be with you” kind of messages. I hinted that I was all alone for the weekend with no plans except for laying a flagstone path in my garden. He is oblivious to ladies hints.

Finally, I took the direct approach. “I’m free for the weekend. Do you want to see me?” I messaged him.

Almost an eternal-hour later he responded. “I’d cherish your company. What would you like?”

He walked right into my naughty trap! “I want you to take me on a for-real date! No swords, no armor, no fucking at my house. A real date.”

His response was, as always, sarcastic and charming. “A real fucking, no fucking, date. As you wish. Pick you up at your place at 8.”

“No,” I messaged back. “It’s a date. Pick me up at work.”

Friday arrived and I, as usual, awoke late because, well, erotica! I hurried through my shower so I’d have enough time to brush out my hair and put on my makeup. I dressed in a simple dress that was slightly attractive but suitable for business attire. I didn’t bother with underwear, not because I wanted to feel sexy but because I was in a hurry. I had forgotten all about our “date” in my rush.

My morning was hectic with books coming in, books going out, things needing repricing, and our archaic computer system crawling along at a snail’s pace. It was well past noon by the time I remembered that I was going to unleash my fury upon him. Oh my goddess! I wasn’t dressed properly. I thought about cancelling; I pondered telling him to pick me up at home, instead. I ended up doing neither of those things because the day consumed me.

It was maybe twenty minutes before closing and I was talking to Marcy; my friend and an invaluable employee. My back was turned to the door. I was talking to Marcy about our ideas on how to reconfigure one of our displays—her idea was better than mine—and I saw her face go blank and her mouth gape as she looked towards the entrance. As the bells on the door rattled their entrance-song I turned and followed her gaze. There he stood.

His long, fine hair was flowing and glowing in the light. He wore a light blue button-down shirt that still showed his fine physique beneath it. The sleeves were rolled up over his forearms. His broad-shouldered torso angled inward into his envy-inducing tiny waist and his bottom half wore black pleated pants. No moccasins this time; his feet were covered with black leather casual shoes. He held a bouquet of roses in his hand!

The light coloring of his shirt made those gray-ringed eyes of his jump out like a vampire’s eyes should look. He smiled at me and looked me up and down at least twice. He confidently swaggered, yes swaggered, over to me and handed me the roses.

“You look amazing as always,” he beamed out to me.

“I’m sorry,” I said to him. “I meant to dress up, but I was in such a rush.” I took the flowers and looked at them. It was a bunch of red roses with a single white one in the center. “Aren’t you the hopeless romantic?” I said to him, desperately trying to not sound impressed by his old-fashioned gesture.

“Hopeful romantic,” he replied.

I read the card. “In every bunch, one stands out. You are that one.”

Get it together, Krystal! They’re just flowers; stop dripping down your thighs!

“I can’t go out like this,” I exclaimed to him. “I look a mess!”

He put those manly, strong, muscled-with-the-veins-showing arms around me. I remembered how many orgasms I received at the tender mercy of his hands as they touched me. I felt my body explode in delight at his touch.

“Nonsense,” he said to me as he nuzzled one of my hot spots at the nape of my neck. “We’ll just cancel the first thing I had planned for us and rectify your wardrobe fears.”

I turned to Marcy. “Marcy, would you mind if-“

“I closed up shop for you. No problem!” She was smiling and nodding. Her eyes met mine and she mouthed, “You’re so lucky”. We shared a girl-giggle together and I gladly let him escort me out.

We walked to his car, a nice, nondescript SUV. I forced myself to stop feeling giddy over his conduct and began to execute my plan of being wild. Always the true gentleman, he opened the door for me and held his hand on the small of my back as I climbed in to ensure my safety. As I swung my legs into the interior, I made sure to give him a slow and a clear, lingering look up my dress. His eyes lit up with delight.

“I love what you’re wearing under your dress,” he said to me.

“I’m nude beneath this,” I retorted in my sultry, sexy, husky voice.

“I know,” he laughed. “That’s what I love about it!”

He grabbed a CD from the door pocket. “You mentioned that you like hair metal, right?”

He drove me to the local mall around to a side entrance. Again holding the door for me, he steered me inside and led me to an Indie bohemian clothing boutique. It was empty except for us and a young college-aged attendant. He was kind of cute. The attendant greeted us, asked if we needed any help, and then went back to his phone.

“Pick out anything you like,” Glade said to me. “Once you feel you’re properly attired, we can get some grub.”

I loved, loved, loved the clothes in the store. I wanted at least two of everything! I ended up choosing a stone-washed cotton pixie dress of sorts. It had a corset stylet top with cups in the front and thin spaghetti straps, laced in the back. The skirt portion flared out in diamond-pointed strips; very pixie-like. I also chose an ornately embellished maxi dress with slits going up both sides.

“You can try those in there,” the attendant said, pointing at a curtain-covered little alcove of a dressing room.

I went in and remembered how naughty I had planned on being. I smiled to myself as I decided what to do. I only closed the curtain halfway. This kept me hidden from the majority of the people that might be walking around outside of the storefront but left me totally exposed to Glade and the inattentive attendant.

I tried on the black maxi dress first. It was gorgeous! However, the cut was just off for my figure. Nonetheless, I decided to see if I got any reaction. My lover was milling about looking at other garments and the attendant still had his nose buried in his phone.

“How do I look?” I asked. I put one leg up high so it spilled out of the slit. They both turned in my direction. They both had appreciative looks.

“You look like passion made flesh,” he said to me. I smiled. “Do you like the other one better?”

“I haven’t tried it on yet,” I said.

Before I lost their attention, I simply undid the necktie of the maxi dress and let it fall to the floor. I brazenly stood there, nude, basking in their attention.

“Did I say that I love what you’re wearing under your dress?” he said to me. The attendant just stared at me hungrily. Their dual attentions really got my heart pounding and my juices flowing.

I smiled at my lover and turned my eyes to the attendant. He was openly staring at me, enraptured by my nude body. I pulled on the pixie dress and I liked it. I twirled a bit and enjoyed how it flared out with my movements. It was a size or so too big on me and it was a mottled blue color.

“I really like this one,” I addressed them both. “But I hate the color and it’s too big on my little boobs.” I pouted a little and held them up in my hands for dramatic effect. “Do you have this in a green or maybe a red and in a smaller size?”

The attendant stuttered out, “ah, I think we have a size small in moss green in the back, I’ll go get it but it might take a minute to find it.”

I smiled as he stood up. By the way his young cock was tent-poling in his shorts; I could see he liked what he saw. I stared directly at the lump in his shorts. “Can I go back with you? It will save time that way.”

He looked over, almost in fear, at my lover. Glade just stood there chuckling, looking impish and amused. The attendant nodded and I walked around the counter and followed him through the tie-dyed curtain into the back room. It was small and had lots of clothes on hangers, stuffed in boxes, and otherwise just kind of strewn about. My eye spied the exact same dress hanging on a rack towards the back. It was dark granite gray with charcoal mottling from the stone-washing.

“What about that one?” I asked, leaning into his back and rubbing my breasts all over him.

I was having a wonderful effect on him. “It’s the same dress but not in the color you wanted.” His voice cracked a little as he said it.

“I like it,” I whispered into his ear. I walked around him and stripped off the blue dress. “Hold this, please.”

I slowly walked over to it, feeling his eyes on my nude behind, and checked the size. It was my size! I pulled it on and it fit quite well. I turned my back to him.

“Can you lace up the back for me?” His hands shook. They shook even more when I reached down and felt how hard he was.

When he fumbled through tying me up in the back, I bent over at the waist. “Does my ass show when I bend over?”

“Ah…a little,” he said. I looked over my shoulder at him and gave him my bedroom eyes.

I bent over even more. “How about now?”

“Mmmhmmm,” he almost moaned out.

There was a high sorting table nearby and I placed my hands on it and pulled myself up to the tabletop, sitting on it and facing him. I spread my legs slightly.

“It doesn’t flash my pussy to everyone when I sit like this, does it?” I asked in an innocent, playful voice.

“A little,” he breathed out.

I spread my legs wide. “Can you see how wet you’ve made me?”

“Uh, what?” He sounded stunned.

“You heard me! Pull it out.”

“I’m uh, not supposed to. I’m at work.”

“Come here; I’ll do all the work. Just give me your cock.”

He walked up to me in a trance. I pulled his shorts and boxers down and his penis sprung out. It was average in size and thickness, but nice. I had an instant of guilt over using him to get under my lover’s skin, but then I thought about it. He would probably remember this for many years!

With him between my spread legs and staring at my exposed pussy, I took him in both hands and stroked him up and down. “Did you like looking at me?” I asked him.

It was over in a minute or less. He came quietly, but hard. It sprayed all over the tabletop I was perched upon and some of it got all over my thigh. When it was over, I kissed him hard and wet. I then jumped off the high table and bent forward to give his cute cock a gentle kiss.

“I’ll take this one!” I smiled at him. I made to go back to the front. “Well, follow me!”

Glade was seated on a chair out on the show floor, flipping through a magazine. He looked up and smiled when we walked out. He whistled at me and I did a pirouette.

“I want this one,” I said to him.

“Of course,” he replied. Glade paid, the attendant barely noticing that Glade was there due to staring at me, and we left.

As soon as we got outside I erupted in laughter.

“What’s so amusing?” he asked.

“The attendants cum is dripping down my leg!” I laughed out.

“What?” he said in disbelief. “Did you fuck him or something?”

I couldn’t tell if he was upset or just shocked or what. “No, but I might have if he was a bit cuter. He just got so turned on watching me flash you that I stroked him off in the back room.”

“You did what?”

“I told him to pull his cock out and I spread my legs. I pulled him into me and grabbed his cock and stroked it. He came all over the place and some of it got on my thigh!” I pulled up my pixie skirt to show him. The young man’s juice shined on my bare thigh and was starting to dry a little.

Now he was going to get upset! I knew it. He was going to call me a “slut”, a “whore”, get all possessive, and then berate me for my naughty behavior. I readied myself for the onslaught as he drew in breath to speak.

“That is so…fucking…hot!” His face lit up and he forcefully pushed me against his car. His lips sought mine and he kissed me like a man possessed. His hand ran under my skirt, up my thigh, and right into my hot, wet pussy. I moaned into his mouth.

He broke off our amazing kiss. “You’ve got me so turned on I can barely think about food,” he exclaimed. “Let’s go eat, anyway!”

“What?” I asked. “You’re not upset with me?”

He laughed then and those soul-piercing eyes of his made my clitoris tingle. “Hell no! I told you that you were my kind of crazy. Hungry?” I was, actually.

As he helped me into his car, I brazenly spread my legs for him. He reached out and gently stroked my wetness and then licked my juices off his fingers. We were seen and he jauntily waved at them as he climbed into the driver’s side. He drove me to our second destination. We conversed along the way. I didn’t know whether to be elated, upset, depressed, or worried that my slutty little backroom action didn’t faze him.

“Do you fuck random strangers often?” he asked me.

“Sometimes, when I feel like it.”

“That’s awesome!”

What? That’s awesome? The thought that he may be perfect me hit me like a ton of bricks. I fought it down. I decided to test him even further.

“Usually, I just like to tease and flash, but sometimes I’ll pick a random person that I think is hot and just make them fuck me.”

“Stop it,” he cried out in mock despair. “You’ll make me cum in my pants!”

“Maybe I’ll do that tonight. If you’re a good boy, then I’ll let you watch me get fucked!”

He laughed. “That rules me out! I am many things, but a good boy is not one of them.”

We arrived at the restaurant and despite myself, I was impressed. First off, it was a nice, upscale but not too fancy place, complete with tablecloths on the tables and real candles. Secondly, it seemed that Glade was the only man in there not wearing a tie. That wasn’t what impressed me.

There was a medium-sized line of people waiting for their tables. Glade strolled on up to the man that was either the owner or the manager, with me tailing behind him like his submissive little slave, and they exchanged hugs and pleasantries and we were immediately shown to a table set off in the corner of a more private room. That is what impressed me, well that and the fact that the table was set with more flowers in the exact same arrangement of red roses with a white one in the center and a bottle of moderately high-priced wine, a Pinot Noir that I am fond of, chilling in a bucket on the table.

“I’ll have your appetizers out to you shortly, Glade.” The maître’d said to him. “And thanks, again.”

“You ordered for me in advance?” I asked.

He shrugged and smiled like a rogue with that perfectly crooked and devilish smile of his. “I took the liberty of ordering a bottle of Pinot for you, the one you said you liked when we first met. I also ordered a few appetizers and figured that you liked your steak medium.”

He was totally correct. I honestly didn’t recall mentioning the wine. I tried to change the subject while inside my mind was doing cartwheels. He remembered! He actually listens!

Instead, I said, “Why was the manager thanking you?”

“Ben? Oh, I did him a very small favor some time ago and he thinks he owes me or something.” That was all he said on the matter.

Dinner was excellent, the service was fantastic, and Glade somehow sensed my every want and desire. His choices for me were exquisite and exactly how I like my food; most of the time. I flirted with him, talked in innuendo, and flashed him. During our meal, I ran my sandaled foot over his crotch. When the server came, I leaned forward so he could look down my top. Glade noted this and saluted me with his water-filled wine glass.

“No wine for me,” he had said to the wine stewardess, “I’m driving, so she’s my designated drinker.”

When the wine stewardess came to ask if I wanted anything else, I asked for a Jack and coke. When she came back with it I turned in my chair and spread my legs too wide on purpose. She pretended not to notice but an elder man in a nice suit and red tie did notice and had a coughing fit.

“Oops,” I said to my lover as I quaffed my hard liquor. “I accidentally flashed that man over there.”

“You’re a liar,” he exclaimed to me. “We both know that you did it on purpose and that you love it.”

“Oh, you don’t love it? Do you want me to stop?”

“Fuck no! I want you to do it again so I can appreciate it.” He paused. “In fact, I’m going to find some excuse to walk over there so I can appreciate his view.”

He did exactly that and our eyes locked in a lusty stare as I repeated the performance. By now, I was forgetting about trying to see if he could handle me in one of my moods and was letting myself just be free and wild. I was incredibly turned on.

He came back to the table and signaled for the check. He paid and left a huge tip and we left.

“What else does my prince charming have in store for the evening? When do you cue the romantic music?”

He laughed and hugged me to him as we walked back to his car. “Did you see all the eyes on you? Men and women all want you. I can’t blame them; you look so beautiful and so sexy.”

I ignored his compliment but was glowing inside. “So what’s next?”

“Well,” he said. “I thought that something exciting like laser-tag might be fun for a ‘date’, but as much as I’d love to see you bending and squatting in that dress, perhaps a leisurely stroll under the stars, so I can delight in your wit and intelligence, is better suited. Then maybe I’ll find some secluded locale and try to seduce you.”

I laughed at him. Call me a silly little girl, but I just love how gallant he is, all while being so open about how alluring he finds me. “I have a better idea,” I said, trying to emulate his impish tone. “We passed a strip club on the way here, let’s go there instead.”

“As you wish,” he smiled out.

It was, at the very least, an upscale nude bar as far as such things go. It was dark, mostly black but with black light and neon to give it a softer glow. It was surprisingly devoid of patrons. There were less than a dozen patrons in the place. I was relieved to see that I wasn’t the only female patron in the place. There was another woman, wearing jeans and a t-shirt, sitting at a table close to the stage. She was with two guys, one of them obviously her husband or boyfriend. The other, I couldn’t tell.

I was let in for free, and Glade had to pay admission. I saw a quarter-round booth off at the far end, away from everyone else, and pointed towards it.

“Can we sit there?” I asked. Why are you asking his permission, Krystal! Be assertive.

“Perfect choice,” he smiled out and then led me to the table. I sat as he stood “guard”. He brazenly admired my legs as I swung them into position.

He sidled in beside me, protectively, running his hand up my leg and resting it high enough that my pussy gushed but low enough to not seem like his fingers were up to “paradise”. We chatted a bit and soon a bubbly bleached blond waitress came up.

“Are you here to audition?” she asked me.

I blushed. “No, we’re just here to have some kinky fun,” I spouted.

“Too bad, hon, you’d make a killing! What’ll ya have?”

“The lady would like two double Jack & cokes, plus a bottle of water,” my lover said. “I’ll just have water for myself as I’m driving.”

She nodded, repeated the order and walked off, shaking her ass in her too-tight shorts that showed off her ass cheeks. I watched her go and turned to see if he was drooling over her ass. He wasn’t! He was looking at my breasts! Oh joy!

Our drinks came and I sat back, his arm around me and ever-so-slightly playing with my nipple through the fabric of my new dress, and watched the show. Some of the dancers were hot and sensual, some were merely going through the motions, it seemed. They would dance, collect tips, and then go and work the crowd. Seeing that they danced for tips made me understand why Glade was paid back in all ones.

He was his usual self with the dancers, which is gallant, flirty, confident, bold but somehow making it charming, and the total gentleman. I, however, was flirty, forward, and seemed to get much more attention than he. Then I saw a dancer that really got my motor revving.

She was over average height and maybe 120 or 125 pounds, by my estimate. She had a nice figure that looked at home in the gym. Her legs, stomach, and back were all toned and her decently sized breasts jutting out from her otherwise lithe figure. She had medium brown hair that hung low on her back and, unlike the others, she had no tattoos. She also danced very sensually and very sexually without it seeming to be trashy like most of the others. Our eyes locked and she smiled at me demurely.

“She is so sexy,” I said to him over the rock music. “Look at how she moves! She’s practically humping that pole. I’d love to have those thighs wrapped around me like that!”

My lover laughed and kissed my neck. Damn him, how does he instinctively know where my hot spots are?

“Why don’t you go tip her?” he said to me, holding up the small pile of bills on the table.

“You won’t mind?” I asked.

“Mind? I get to watch your sexy little ass walk over to do it. I’d love to see that!”

If only I could figure out what it is about his voice that made every casual comment seem like a subliminally embedded hypnotic command! I grabbed a couple of ones and slowly approached the stage. I felt the other men rip their eyes from the stage and watch me. I walked for their pleasure to heighten my own.

The sexually charged woman on the stage saw me approaching and abandoned a rotund man wearing a dingy baseball cap to meet me. Her smile, even if it was a fake “for show” smile, glistened under the black light. She beckoned me with her arms to the rhythm of the music.

I approached and held out a dollar and she shook her head with a playful expression in a “no-no” manner. She got on her hands and knees and crawled to me. Looking me in the eyes, she danced just for me, it seemed. She writhed on the stage, cupped her breasts, pulled my face into her bare cleavage and smothered me with her perfume. She then told me to put the bill in my mouth.

I did as she asked and she lay on her back. I leaned forward just a little bit, not really certain that I wanted to flash my nude ass to everyone. My mood told me to do it, but I didn’t want to get thrown out. She gently pulled my head into her crotch and ground herself on my face. As she did, she pulled herself up to a sitting position with her taut stomach muscles. She then clamped her mouth over the bill and took it into her mouth, her lips pressing against my own.

As she ground her hips to the music, she pulled the dollar bills out from our mutual mouths and then pulled my head in tight and kissed me. I kissed her back, caught up in the moment. Her hand trailed through my hair and down my back as we kissed. Her tongue sought mine and we probed each other’s mouths delicately, the way only two women sharing a moment of passion possibly can.

Then her hand grabbed my ass and squeezed. I let her and I moaned at her touch. Without thinking, I grabbed at her bare breast and gave it a gentle caress. Her hand then lifted the back of my skirt. I didn’t notice until the men in the place shouted their encouragement. Mildly embarrassed but burning with desire, I pulled back.

“I’m not wearing panties,” I said to her meekly.

“I know. I saw you get out of the booth,” she said to me. “Let them look at what they can’t have.”

We shared a knowing laugh over that and she released me. I walked back to my smiling and applauding lover on weak legs.

“Ask her! Ask her!” I overheard one of the other patrons say to his friend.

He came over to me and intercepted me. I glanced at Glade. He was still smiling but I could tell from the look in his eyes that he’d keep me safe.

“Excuse me,” the stranger said. “We have a bet. He doesn’t think you’re wearing panties and I do.”

He seemed safe enough. “Really,” I responded. “How much?”

“Twenty.”

“You lose,” I shouted out and I pulled up the front of my pixie skirt, showing him my trimmed pubes. He started to say something to me, but I ignored him and went and plopped myself on my lover’s lap. I could feel his hardness.

“Did you like that?” I said to him, smiling into those eyes.

“I loved it!” he shouted out. “I was just thinking that finally I’ve found a woman that can tolerate my wild streak!”

I kissed him then and made a show of placing his hand under my skirt. I was soaked, probably leaving a wet spot on his lap.

“You passed my little test tonight,” I said to him. “Now I want you to take me home and fuck me like the slut I am!”

He smiled. “As you wish.”

He helped me out of the booth and I waved and blew a kiss to the dancer. I wondered what it would be like to make love to her. As we left, the guys applauded and clapped for me and shouted out how much they loved my ass. Feeling naughty, I bowed to them and then looked at the dancer. She was making a gesture of pulling off a shirt. I thought I knew what she meant. I stopped, basking in the attention and reached back and undid the tie of the neck and back lace.

I brazenly pulled the dress up over my head and handed my new, lovely dress to my lover. I then took his hand and pulled him out the exit, walking briskly but not so fast that they all didn’t get an eyeful. We sped to my place and as soon as the ignition was turned off, I was all over him. He licked me to an orgasm with me in the seat and door open. He fingered me at the front door. When I had the door open, he pushed me down and took me on the threshold.

We cleaned up after that and talked, nude in the gazebo. I climbed on top of him and rode him as I verbally played out all of my most forbidden and sordid fantasies. He got me off time and time again, adding spice and extra kink to my already taboo desires.

When it was all done, he said, “I’m pleased I passed the test. Can’t wait until the final exam.”

The Truth:

For critiquing purposes, here are the main things that were fictionalized.

For starters, Marcy did not mouth “You’re so lucky to me.” She has her own boyfriend now and she is deeply smitten with him. She actually mouthed, “I’m so happy for you.”

In the store, the encounter with the young man did not really happen like that. He locked up the front and my lover asked if he wanted us to wait on the show floor or go back with him. He let us back there with him and while I did strip in front of him and I said and did the same things, I told him to pull it out “since he had already seen me naked.” Without recounting all the details, the young man stroked it himself; the end result was mostly the same.

At the restaurant, my lover actually gave a brief summary of the favor he did for the manager. The man has a young daughter and he showed up, at her request, to her birthday party in full armor because she’s in a Lord of the Rings phase. Getting seated automatically was merely returning the favor.

At the strip club, I did not peel off my dress and then show myself off to everyone. I wanted to! I actually just flipped up the front of my dress, when I saw that everyone was looking at me appreciatively, and then grabbed my lover by the hand and ran out, full-speed. I did, however, strip in the car as we were pulling out and ride home nude.

I also left out all the parts that didn’t paint me in a confident, sexy, or flattering hue.