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Mrs SwansonChapter 5 free porn video
Tension! She could feel the tension; there were times when she just wasn’t sure that she was going to do this but there was no time, she admitted to herself, when she didn’t want to do this. She was alone and didn’t expect Ned any time soon, maybe hours. She paced as she waited for him. Causing herself problems and asking herself questions.
Only now the focus was different; she was hoping that he was pleased, that she did please him. It had changed with her admissions at the theater. The conflict was there but the whole scene at the movie theater made it so much different. There was a giving in that happened there that made it necessary to simply follow his instructions. She also hoped that 38 wasn’t too old for him.
The door bell rang quickly three times, as he said it would, exactly on the time that he had told her. One last look in the mirror for her, and the fervent hope in her mind that he would like the way she looked.
‘She had dressed exactly the way he told her: three inch red heels, rose colored panties, that went all the way to her waist, chaste except for the fact that they were translucent and displayed her curly pussy hair and her ass clearly. Nothing on above the waist, naked to him, for him. Her hair splayed upon her shoulders in splendor. She forced herself to stop worrying and opened the door. He stepped in and took in the way she looked.
“Hi, slut,””Ah,” he laughed, “so, tell me what is your name?”
“My name is slut,” was her answer. Then she waited, and she knew that the turn on from the name calling was real, present and producing heat in her. When he called her dirty names it really turned her on.
“After all,” he said, “look at how you’re dressed to greet me.
“Exactly as you told me to dress.” She responded.
“Ah, yes,” he continued, “obedient.” Then with a suddenness that amazed Kristine, he whirled her around and slapped her panty covered ass with a might whack. “But still somewhat snotty, I see,” he growled at her. She backed off immediately.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” she said quickly.
He smiled and said: “Come let’s sit so that we can talk.”
“Yes, sir,” was her response, attempting at calm. They sat and the incongruence of it wasn’t lost on her at all. It was part of the turn on for her. Here he was, in her own home, half her age, someone in school still; he was fully dressed. And she: 38 yrs old, was nearly naked, dressed in only panties and heels like a common slut.
“Yes,” she thought, “Slut is the term, a very good one.”
He broke into her thoughts and was smiling as though he knew what she was thinking. “Like the term slut, don’t you?”
“Yes, I fell like such a slut here,” she said in a low voice, “you know, ... uh ... sitting here just in panties and heels with you all dressed. It’s ... ah ... so dirty; it feels so dirty,” she looked up at him, “just like all of the rest of the dirty things that you’ve made me do. It feels so dirty,” she repeated, “and why then do I love it so?” She glanced at him as she talked.
His grin was huge. “If you cry,” he said with authority, “I’m going to slap your face.”
“Yes, yes, yes,” she said hurriedly, “This slut is sorry for the emotions. It’s just kind of overwhelming to feel this way. I’ve never felt this way for or with anyone before and I hope ... uh ... I’m just not sure what to do.”
He smiled at her and continued: “ Just do what you’re told. And tell me, how does it feel? How does it feel for Mrs. Swanson, Ned Swanson’s lovely wife to be sitting here with a high school senior wearing only panties because that’s what she was told to wear?” He was smiling throughout.
She shook her head, letting her loose hair flutter around her shoulders and thought about the answer just a bit. “I really don’t know but it just seems right for me; I know that. It’s right for me that you to treat me this way, like your slut or your pig or your cock sucker. It’s what I want.”
He smiled, and said to her: “I know that. But what about old Ned?”
She was quick to answer: “Tell me what you want and I’ll do it. I’m not worried about ‘old Ned.”
“Yes, I know that,” he answered still with a smile. “Tell me what you like about it.”
She loved that the conversation went on. This conversation in her house with this boy, this masterful boy who forced her do do things that she loved so much, deep, dark, really dirty things that had lain hidden in her for so long. She loved that the conversation went on and he was still dressed and she was still nearly naked at his request, his order. She just loved it, the commonness of it. She broke away from her thoughts and answered him:
“I ... uh ... I ... uh, I like the name calling. I like, I don’t know why but I like being forced to do dirty things. And, I guess that I really like ... uh the pain kind of too.”
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