You re the Wife Now What if Magic Wasn t Real complete
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You're The Wife Now! (What If Magic Wasn't Real?) Part 7 free porn video
Part 7
The stern call of, "Wake up, Jane!" shocked me into alertness.
It was one of those experiences when you wake up and you have no idea of
who you are, never mind what day it is. It's almost a mystical experience
as there is no connection with the memories you have accumulated
throughout your life, just blissful being - no self as the Buddhists
would say. As an adult, this experience, when it happened, would almost
always be brought to a screeching halt when I remembered who I was and
what I had to do that day, especially if I had to go to work. Then the
mild depression would return to replace that momentary feeling of
peaceful liberation. Today, however, as the memories of what had happened
with both Jay and Robert began to trickle back into recollection, this
stimulated feelings of exhilaration and elation.
The voice that had woken me was Jay's. I turned to look for Robert but he
was no longer in bed with me.
"I'm sorry Jane, Robert has gone to work so you won't be treated to a
morning fucking session." Jay teased, causing me to blush. "Oh, I heard
you both in bed last night so don't try and act all coy and innocent with
me."
Bizarrely, Jay was wearing my clothes from the previous day - a button up
navy shirt, jeans and a baseball cap. She must have seen the confusion on
my face as she interrupted my thought process by stating that we have a
busy day ahead, completely shutting down any potential inquiry.
I was still wearing the negligee from last night and, now that all my
senses had returned, I was aware of the feel of a stickiness between my
ass-cheeks, which caused me to further blush. I had no time to dwell on
this as Jay reminded me to "hurry up, time is of the essence!" so I
rushed to go and get cleaned up from last night's exploits.
Once showered, I spotted the outfit Jay had already picked out for me
laid upon the bed. It was a crimson lacy top with ? length sleeves and a
scoop neck - obviously designed to reveal a cleavage; my cleavage to be
exact. There was also an a-line skirt with a split up to the thigh and a
pair of Mary Jane heels. The underwear she selected was a classy,
strappy, satin, polka-dot underwear set - Jay had unmistakeably selected
a balcony bra to emphasise my boobs and add an extra jiggle to accompany
any movement.
I dressed, applied my make up and donned the wig before asking Jay how I
looked. I was expecting at best a compliment and at worst a rebuke, but
what I got was completely unexpected. Jay asked me to turn around so she
could see better. As I turned, (so she was now facing my back) she
stepped forward and placed her arms around me, running her hand along my
thigh and pubic area, accessed through the split in my skirt, at the same
time as pulling me backwards and pushing herself into my shapely arse.
She positioned her mouth next to my ear and whispered, "Completely
fuckable." We stayed in that position for a few moments, with her heavy
breathing sending tingles down my neck and spine, before she released me
and asked me to follow her downstairs.
We entered the kitchen where I found a glass of water and an assortment
of pills on a saucer. "You need to take your medication, Jane, these are
important for a menopausal woman," Jay explained straight away. I knew I
wasn't literally a menopausal woman and that taking medication without
knowing what it is was a bad idea. Jay must have sensed my hesitation. "I
can see Mrs is being fussy. Well at least drink the water as you must be
dehydrated." That I had no issues with, and was rather thirsty, so I did
as requested.
Jay began to explain what we had instore for us that day - a trip to the
salon was first on the agenda. Just when I was about to ask why we were
going to the salon, that fuzzy feeling from yesterday along with the
accompanying headache began to slowly return. I was now becoming familiar
with the tell-tale signs. I could hardly focus on Jay's ramble about the
schedule for the day. She must have seen I was in pain as she once again
reminded me to take my medication to help. In desperation, I picked up
the pills and swallowed them.
Not long after, we were on our way into town, with Jay driving. The
headache had lessened to a milder tension now but the groggy, light-
headed` feeling remained. Along the way, Jay parked up in a very familiar
place. It was the carpark for my flat. "What on earth were we doing
here?" I thought. "Give me your keys. I need to pop into your place to
pick up some of your things. What number was it again?" Jay prompted.
"27," I responded, without even feeling the need to question her actions,
as I placed the keys into her hand. She jumped out of the vehicle and
headed inside for around 20 minutes, before re-emerging with a couple of
full bin bags that she placed in the boot of the car.
No more questions were asked. Jay started the car, once again, and
continued with the journey. We were heading towards the town centre but
ended up driving into an industrial estate-cum-retail park. There were a
few white goods retail outlets and several large units which would have
been impossible to distinguish from each other, if it weren't for the
signs above the doorways. We parked outside a large double unit with a
sign on the fence displaying the logo for 'RJW & Associates Medical'. My
head remained fuzzy but I knew this wasn't a salon so I wanted to ask Jay
why she had brought me here. She must have anticipated this and sharply
informed me, "The salon is round the back. They rent a room within this
facility," once again, bluntly ending my curiosity with what seemed like
the most rational, logical answer.
"Follow me," Jay barked. I tried to catch up with her fast-paced strides
but struggled in my heels. The rapid clicking of the heels against
concrete alongside the exaggerated swaying of my ample cleavage, thanks
to the balcony bra, reminding me of my present situation. Jay stopped,
turned around and waited for me to catch up. She grinned. "You dirty, old
MILF, trying to turn me on with your big udders are you?" I was so
embarrassed!
Eventually we reached a small door at the back of the building. Jay
pressed the buzzer next to the steel door and, almost instantly, we were
greeted by a lady in scrubs and a face-covering, which given the current
levels of COVID and the fact this was a salon inside a medical facility
wasn't surprising at all. She escorted us inside to a room which looked
somewhat like a salon - in the sense there was lots of beauty equipment,
but it also looked cold and unwelcoming. Unlike the beauty parlours you
usually see, filled with laughter and gossip, this one felt more like a
laboratory.
I waited nervously as Jay and the lady stood close to each other and
conversed at a whispering volume. A few moments later, the discreet
conversation abruptly ended as the masked lady asked out loud "So, who do
we have here?" "Jane Wilson, 56," replied Jay. The lady nodded in
response and instructed, "Good, this way, Jane." In my foggy haze, I just
sat there with a vacant expression on my face. Jay impelled me to follow
her by lifting me to my feet by my upper arm and giving me a small shove
in the back. I trailed behind the lady, feeling surprised by the strength
of Jay.
I was directed to sit in a reclining chair that reminded me more of
something you would find at a dental surgery rather than a beauty
parlour. The lady then placed several documents on the steel tray
attached to the arm of the chair via a swivel mechanism. "Have a read of
these documents and if you are happy to go ahead with the treatments then
sign and date. I'll give you some time to peruse them." She instructed
me. As I tried my hardest to focus and read, Jay positioned herself
behind me. "They are just simple disclaimers explaining that if you don't
like the work they do, you won't take them to court. I used to sign them
all the time at high-end beauty salons, it's typical because their
customers are normally rich and will take them to court over even a bad
hairstyle, but don't worry, if you don't like your new look, Robert will
pay for any changes." She assured me. With the reassurance coupled with
the fact that I could hardly even make sense of the text, I signed and
dated each page.
After the documents were taken away by another member of staff, the
masked lady began to recline the chair and asked me to relax. The masked
lady returned and began to inform me about what was going to happen "Now,
some of the procedures such as hair removal and ear-piercing are found
painful by most of our clients. As they are predominantly wealthy, they
nearly always opt for a general anaesthetic, rather than local. Your
procedure has been fully funded by your husband, so which would you
prefer?" she enquired. Before I even got a chance to begin the thinking
process, Jay quickly interrupted "Oh trust me, it's much better to go for
the general anaesthetic - you fall asleep and wake up looking great
without any pain!" she enthused. It sounded appealing to me as I've
always been pain averse. At no point, did I think to question why beauty
treatments would be so painful so I just agreed, believing Jay and the
lady had my best interests at heart.
A breathing mask was placed over my mouth and nose before the lady in the
mask instructed me to "count slowly down from 10."
I obediently followed the order, free of any anxiety or concern. "10, 9,
8, 7... 6.....5..... 4..............."
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