Sunday, February 12, 2012

A Few Comments - and Part 6 of the Serial

Well?  That Super Bowl wasn't altogether bad -despite my comments - was it?

But can't say I was overwhelmed with your suggestions for a book cover for "Milked Maids".  Thank God that I wasn't needing help with drowning.  This is what I ended up with:

Now - I'm pretty sure that I could have done better - but where were YOU when I needed you, huh?
A word to the wise here.  I'm not shilling for sales.  If you've been a constant reader of my old web pages these stories were all published there for free - so you've probably read them. (Actually the cover designer - who's straight - thought the picture would be misread.  I assured her that my kind of reader wouldn't have a problem.  Think I was correct.  Sales just started, but have been good).

Now I'm wondering if I'll get more criticisms of the above than I did suggestions?

Something I haven't done in a while - a "What If?"

Scenario:  You are deeply in love with a girl.  Both of you fairly young and of the same build. You can't seem to stop 'Talking down' to her, tending to deride the female sex - but this is just to cover up your own inadequacies.  She seems to look up to you and is very shy and introspective - makes you feel strong and protective.   You finally pluck up enough courage to ask her to marry you.  To your shock and disappointment she turns you down - on the grounds that you are much stronger and more powerful than she is.  You finally speak the truth and deny that you feel this way.  She doesn't believe you - but shows more interest.  You maintain that you see her as an equal - at least.
She shyly admits that she loves you a lot, but has always been in awe of you and cannot see that you're telling the complete truth.  Maybe there would be some way you could prove your honesty?
You rack your brains but cannot think of anything.
She brightens!  Maybe you could go over her knees and let her spank you?
You protest that you can't and she is ready to give up.  Then you agree to do this.  Start to go over her knees, when she smiles.  "Perhaps you should unbuckle your pants first?  Drop them down about yur ankles?"


Okay - here's the Serial.  Rosie's 'bits' to follow:

Serial  - Career Paths May be Slippery When Wet - Part 6

She sighed. "Okay.  I still think you're making a mistake – should say that it's ME making a mistake, but I'll go along with you. Just one thing.  You WILL wear panties!"
"But. ."
She held her hand up.  "That's it!  No panties, no deal!"
I took a deep breath, suddenly remembering that I'd lost all my male undershorts the previous week. "Okay"
And the deal was struck.

At the airport the next day, I almost fell in love again.  If I hadn't met Nancy beforehand, it would have been all over. Candace was tiny, with jet black hair, blue, blue eyes.  Sharp, intelligent, face.  Outgoing  nature.  Very conservatively dressed though – a real lady.  Nowadays when people travel, it is definitely comfortable clothes.  She, however, was in a straight skirt and white blouse.  Okay, she did have a tailored jacket matching the skirt slung over one shoulder – but I knew that, if she'd put the jacket on, it would have been immaculate!

I. on the other hand – and despite my preparations - felt all wrong! Clothes scratchy and uncomfortable – shoes like ten pound weights.  And my voice!  It was almost impossible to keep it at the lower registers.  In all honesty?  I felt like I was a female impersonating a male!

When I introduced myself, she gave me a huge hug – and a big, friendly, kiss.
"So you're Rene's new husband?  I'd pictured someone entirely different" she said.
"Hi Candy!" I said. "Rene's said so much about you!  Different?  In what way?"

She studied my face intently.  "You're not Paul.  I met him.   Once.   A son of a bitch.  Hard.  You're not hard.  Are you?"
I felt very uneasy all of a sudden as this pretty young girl turned what seemed to be searchlights onto my face and spoke with a measured intensity.  Looked away.
"No.  I'm not Paul.  I'm Bill.  Not hard at all."

I heard a musical laugh and she took my arm in hers. "Bill?  I'm sorry.  You'll find I have the habit of being very straightforward.  Can't abide liars and obfuscators.  Tell the truth and shame the devil – that's me!   It's just that your name doesn't seem to fit you. It just sounds all wrong for you"  Shook her head. "I have a problem with my ears when I come down in planes.  Must be that.  Please forgive my bad manners.  It really is nice to know that Rene finally married a man who won't treat her like some sort of idiot possession!  Us girls always seem to get attracted to the wrong sorts, don't we?"
She got a strange look on her face when I answered "Yes."

We had no problems getting her luggage.  The big suitcase was very heavy, but she surprised me by having no problems with loading it into the trunk of the car after I had some difficulty with it. Same getting it out when we got home.

Rene had been called out to some emergency, but left a little note welcoming her.  I wasn't watching what I was doing closely enough and, chattering away like a magpie, actually found myself in her room, helping her unpack and hanging her clothes up in the closet.  She had a puzzled look on her face most of the time and I couldn't figure it out.

I'd made a cold lunch in anticipation of her arrival.  Caught myself in time – was right on the point of putting on one of my aprons!  "Wish Rene wouldn't leave these things lying around!" I said in an aggravated tone, putting it back on the hook at the back of the door where it belonged.  Again, she had a puzzled look about her.  Kept cocking her head to one side and squinting her eyes at me – almost like an artist trying to establish a picture in his mind, but having difficulties. Then she'd shake her head.

When I served her lunch, she looked at my hand.  "You have very nicely shaped hands Bill.  Can I see?"
"Sure."  I said a little nervously (I'd done a good job of getting the polish off my nails, but wondered if she'd see any flecks that I might have missed) and held my right hand out for her inspection.
"Mmm" she said, then ran her forefinger up over my wrist and up my forearm.  She looked like she was going to say something, but stopped.

I brought my own lunch to the table and sat down across from her.
"So tell me  . . Bill  . . You're going to be working as Rene's manager?"
I blushed. "Oh no.  Did she say that?  I'll just be helping her typing up notes for her records, transcribing stuff when she doesn't have time to write them herself.  I don't see her using me much along those lines to tell the truth."
"Ah!  But you'll be filing her stuff – making appointments for her, answering the phone?"  She smiled.  "Making coffee?"
"Wouldn't be surprised."  I said lightly.
"More like her secretary then?"
"Yes.  That's probably more like it."

She took a mouthful of food, chewed, swallowed.  Took a sip of wine.  "Okay.  Let's get down to facts.  What's this all about?  You and Rene playing a joke on me?"
"Huh?" I said.
"Your name's not Bill.  You're a girl!  Who are you trying to kid?  I don't mind a joke – but when it gets carried too far?  I start getting annoyed.  What is going on?"
"I'm  . . not a girl!  For goodness sake!" I sputtered helplessly.
"Sweetie?  Don't lie any more.  When you were chattering away while hanging up my clothes? I called you "Bill' a few times while your back was to me.  You didn't answer.
And?  When did you ever see a MAN hanging up a girl's clothes?"
"I was only trying to make you welcome." I said defensively.

"You almost put an apron on – a pretty frilly thing.  Rene wouldn't wear anything like that in a thousand years! You have soft, girlish hands, and manicured nails.  No hair on your arms.  You're going to be taking over a job as Rene's secretary – a girl's job. Now tell me – and you better be telling me the truth.  Does Rene know about this charade you're putting on? Does she agree with it?"
"Yes she knows!  And it's not a charade!  I'm NOT a girl!" I said, but the conviction was leaking out of my voice as I spoke.
"Strand up, and come round here." She spoke quietly, but commandingly.

I got up from the table and walked around to her.
"Lift your pant leg please."
"What for?"
"Hush!  Just do it!  That's good. Now come a little closer.  Keep your pant leg up."

She reached forward and stroked my bare leg with her fingertips. "Smooth as a baby's bum.  How often do you shave your legs?"
"Not very often." I admitted.
She smiled up at me. "Finally?  The truth starting to come out?  What's your real name Bill?   Come on, you can tell me. Is it Pamela? Annette?  Patricia?  Melissa?  Come on now, Miss Candace is waiting!"
I sighed.  "It's Bill, though Rene calls me Billie at times."
"So, you ARE a girl then?  Gonna have to spank you for lying to me!"
"I'm NOT a girl!" I wailed.  "Honest!"
"Only one way to find out, I guess" she said – and started undoing my belt buckle!

"What are you doing!  Please stop!" I said helplessly as she was unzipping my pants. "Please Candy, don't" as her fingers took hold of my waistband and started pulling my pants down.

My eyes started to leak with embarrassment and shame as she lifted the front of my shirt to reveal my ivory colored satin panties with the mocha lace trim.
"Oh my!  What do we have here!  But I've been miscalling you, haven't I?" she said.  Then she thought for a minute. "Does Rene know you're wearing her panties?"

It was a technicality, sure, but I wasn't lying when I said "No".
"Turn around to face away from me please." She asked.
I did as she'd requested then, before I knew it, got a tremendous whack across my buttocks.  I squealed with surprise and the pain.
"Now Billie – or whatever your name is?  Go and stand in the corner there until I've made up my mind what to do with you.  No!  Don't pull your pants up, let them fall around your knees. Now?  Undo the first few bottom buttons of your shirt – and tie the corners together – like girls do to get a bare midriff – Just do it! Keep your face pointing into the corner while I think what to do with you."

I don't suppose that she kept me there for more than ten minutes while she finished her lunch and had a glass of wine, but it felt a lot longer. Finally she spoke to me.
"Okay?  I don't know enough about what's going on here.  I'm surprised that Rene doesn't know that her husband is a transvestite, but I'd just as soon not be the bearer of those particular tidings.  So tell you what I'm going to do.  First? Go and take the panties off. Put men's underwear on instead.  Then we'll . ."
"I can't, Candy,"  I interrupted.
"What do you mean – 'Can't'?" she barked.  "I'm truly getting pissed off with you!"
"I don't have any."  I wailed.

Her mouth opened, then shut again.  "You've done it now!  Made me lose my temper! It's not MY fault!" she said slowly, as if speaking to herself.  The scary thing though was the fact that her voice was barely over a whisper. Then, a pair of vice-like fingers had a hold of my ear.
"Come on then?  I'd like a look at your clothes!"  And whimpering and crying, my pants draped around my knees, I was pulled stumbling and tripping into Rene's and my bedroom.

When she saw my lingerie drawer, she simply pulled a long handled hair brush from top of the dressing table and gave me a resounding spank  Then I was dragged over to the closet to show her what was hanging there.  She pulled out my short black skirt and white blouse and threw them on top of the bed.
"Not what I want, but they'll do for now."  She looked at her watch. "I'll give you five minutes.  When I come back, you'll be wearing that skirt and blouse – and proper underwear. You'll do anything you can with your hair – and put some makeup on – except don't put mascara on.  We'll do that later.  Get going Billie!"  With that she gave me another swat, and left the room.

It didn't take me long to change clothes.  To be quite honest, I felt a lot happier putting my undies, blouse and skirt on – far more comfortable than the stuff I'd been wearing  I thought.

My hair wasn't as nice as it should have been, but considering the time she'd given me, it wasn't too bad.  She came in while I was applying  my makeup.  I'd been wondering why she didn't want me putting mascara on.  It didn't take me long to find out.

She sat on the big chair. "That's more like it.  Now bring that hairbrush over here and get over my knees."
"Please Candy?  I've done what you told me."
"That reminds me.  Now, when you talk to me?  I'm MISS Candace. That or Mistress.  Either one.  You'll also curtsey to me when I talk to you.  I want you to acknowledge that I'm your mistress. Now please!"

I knew there was no sense in disobeying her. Took the sides of my skirt in my hands and curtsied the way that Valerie had taught me. "Yes Mistress" I said softly.
"Very good!  You've done this before, I think. Over my knees now.  No more talking.  Just do it!"
Trembling, I took the hairbrush over to her, then draped myself over her knees. She promptly shoved my dress and slip up around my waist, bearing my panties.

She patted me on the backside gently a few times. "Know why I'm spanking you?"
"Not really, mistress."
"You've done nothing but lie, lie, lie since we met this morning.  I'm going to teach you that it is always a very bad idea to lie to me."
"But I didn't lie mistress.  I'm a man, and my name is William – oh!  Was William.  That's where the Bill came from.  Honest."

Her hand came to rest on my panties.  Started stroking me there. "I don't understand Billie. What do you mean when you say that your name was William?"
"Rene made me change it."
"To Billie?"

I let out a sharp squeal as the brush came in contact with my posterior!
"See!  Another lie uncovered.  Oh missy, you are not going to be lying to me after this, I can assure you" she grated.
"But I didn't tell any more lies," I said tears starting to run down my cheeks.
"You said that Rene didn't know you were wearing panties."
"No mistress.  You asked me if she knew I was wearing HER panties.  I said 'no' because I was wearing my own!"
Another major slap on my rear.  "Verbal sophistry!" she snapped. "I will not have you think you can bandy words with me you goddam pansy!"

I had thought that Rene spanked hard, but hers were gentleness personified compared to the thrashing that Miss Candace gave me after that. I knew then why she had made me leave mascara off – it would have been all over my face – because my tears flowed fast and furious.

Finally, she finished and let me get up.  I was given enough time to wash my face with cool water to get the puffiness out, then she watched me as I made my face up again.
"Come and sit on my lap sweetie" she said.
I did as I was told and she pulled me into her embrace, one arm around my shoulders.
Let's have a little girl talk, shall we?"
I nodded, and she gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. "You don't mind me referring to you as a girl, do you?"
"No mistress." I said, still gulping a little from the aftermath of my punishment.
"Well, that's good.  You won't be telling me any more naughty fibs, will you?"
I shook my head, still concerned that I might break into tears if I spoke.

"Good! Now let me tell you about what's going to be happening.  I'm going to train you to be a secretary.  And something that's very important?" she paused as if to give me a chance to say something, but I thought better of it and remained mute.
"You must be properly dressed at all times.  Now in your closet there?  I saw a pretty maids uniform, didn't I?"
I nodded.
"So you're well aware of the need to dress properly for whatever function you perform.  Right?"
"Yes Miss." I managed.
"Being a good secretary involves looking neat and clean at all times. You must not wear too much make up – and under no circumstances are you to look like a tart. You will wear skirts and blouses  - ladylike at all times.  You're hair will be coiffed at all times. You will wear seamed stockings – and they'd better be straight!  Your finger and toe nails will be polished – and god help you if I ever see them anything but immaculate."  She took a deep breath, then continued.  "I will expect you to act like a demure young lady at all times.  You will do as I tell you without argument.  Is all of this clear?"
"Yes Miss."

She changed the tone of her voice, allowing a little mockery to creep in. "Don't you feel silly?  Sitting on a young woman's lap? Being talked to as if you were a little girl? Wearing women's clothes and makeup.  Just because I told you to do all of this?  When I'm so much smaller than you?"
"A little bit." I replied.
"Oho! So you have some masculinity left?  Why don't you fight me?  Beat me up? Come on, tell me why you won't stand up for yourself!"
"I'm scared of you. You're mean."
"You're scared of me?  What are you?  A coward?"

I hung my head.  She continued the verbal attack. "Say it!"
"I don't know what you want me to say!" I said, starting to weep again.
"Say something like ' I used to think I was a man – but now I'm Priscilla the sissy coward that deserves to be made to wear women's clothes and do women's work.

I started to try and say what she wanted me to say, but got it all garbled up.
"You didn't listen to me" she said.  "Something you're going to learn, my girl.  Oh yes!"
And I was over her knees, being paddled again, pleading and crying and telling her I'd do anything if she'd just stop hurting me.
"Wondered what all the racket was.  Hi Candy!  Glad you could make it!"  And Rene was in the room, coming over to where we were and giving Miss Candace a kiss.

Next thing was her taking a hold of my hair and pulling my face up to look her in the eyes. "Guess you didn't fool Candy for very long, did you?  Don't say I didn't warn you!"
She let my hair go. "Poor little sissy.  Wanted so much to be a man for you."
Miss Candace giggled.  "Think that maybe she's forgotten how?"
"Wouldn't surprise me one little bit!"  Rene laughed. "But are you finished with her now?  Maybe we might go and have a chat?  Let Priscilla do whatever little sissies do?"
"Great idea.  But do you know her sizes?" Miss Candace replied.
"Yeah.. Why?"
"If she's gonna be your secretary, I want her to dress the part."
"Good point?  When do you want to go?" Rene asked her.
"Now's as good a time as any to my way of thinking.  Just let me get Priscilla started on some tutorials.  Can't have her wasting time, can we?"

It was almost dinner time when they returned laughing together and demanding that I pour them drinks. I had changed into my uniform and apron so that I could  make the meal.  Then, once they had the drinks in their hands, the made me go through the packages they'd bought for me.  It was mostly skirts and blouses though I was glad to see some more bras and panties – I'd felt that I was short of those articles. There were two lace up corsets as well.  I didn't ask who'd be lacing me in.

I did feel quite uncomfortable in front of the two women as Rene made it quite obvious that I was to enthuse over each and every item.  With them laughing uproariously and making ribald comments and obscene jokes,  I squealed with delight and held everything up against myself and viewed them in the mirror.

Over the next ten days, I became Miss Candace's creature.  I minced and primped in the most becoming and ladylike fashion – corseted and dressed in tight skirts I did everything she asked.  Rene looked on proudly.  I think she saw Miss Candace as her own protégé. I studied diligently on her transcription method and brought my keyboard speed up to ninety five words a minute. I had plenty of time as, once I'd finished clean up after breakfast, I was pretty clear for the day.  Miss Candace was usually at the college until late afternoon, so I had relatively peaceful periods.

On the other hand, nothing was too shameful to be done to me.  One evening I was forced to stand to the side of Miss Candace's chair, my hands crossed over my apron, while she used her hand to lift my petticoats and fondle my genitals, while carrying on a conversation with Rene.  I was spanked for "squirming about" then put back into the same mortifying position , constantly brought to the point of ejaculation, but never allowed to ejaculate – on pain of the Worst – the very worst spanking you'll ever get!

They were discussing sex, when the subject of dildos was raised. Mistress Candace was most interested, saying she'd never used one.  Rene assured her of how much fun it was, but Miss Candace wasn't sure – so Rene offered to demonstrate.  I was then instructed to go and get the harness and the dildo – and warned that I'd better lubricate myself.

With Mistress watching closely, I dressed Rene in the harness, then – as ritual demanded – gave the dildo a thorough mouthing, before putting it in the harness, demonstrating delight as I did so.  Kissing the ugly thing and licking it as if was something delicious once it was in place.  Making happy and satisfied little moans.
"She's very convincing.  Does she really like it?" Mistress Candace asked.
"Don't think so, but ask me if I care" Rene said  "Bark! Priscilla"  she added commandingly.
"Woof!" I said, dropping to my hands and knees.
"Louder – and more!"
"Woof Woof!" I said as Rene came up behind me, then entered me doggy style, Miss Candace laughing and cheering as Rene pumped into me.

Then Miss Candace thought she'd give it a try – that is if Rene didn't mind?
"Be my guest.  But that is only of Priscilla doesn't mind.  You don't mind, do you Priscilla?"
Both of them laughed as I only cried in response.

Miss Candace wasn't very adept, so it took a while for her to get comfortable and insert the dildo inside me. Once she was in, however, she seemed to be enjoying herself, working it in and out very slowly, demanding that I 'woof' quietly, but often.

The phone rang and Rene excused me from answering it – "Seeing you're otherwise engaged!"  she laughed, and went and picked it up.

It turned out that it was Nancy.  Rene's voice was pleased and she was sending congratulations over the phone, and saying what a glorious opportunity it was, and how proud she (Nancy) must be.  Then I heard her say. "Oh?  No, he can't come to the phone just now" she giggled  "But I'm sure – yes positive – he'd love to.  On Thursday night?  It's kinda soon, but I can't imagine him objecting.  Okay love.  I'll pass it on.  If he can't make it?  I'll call you back and leave a message.  Bye!"

I'd put a rubber on in my room, not wishing to make a mess of my best petticoat, but the utter shame of being humped by a woman, while the girl I loved was practically listening to what was going on?  I ejaculated.

Rene was going to spank me for my lack of control, but Miss Candace talked her out of it, saying that I had been a great 'lay', but that she wanted to do it again some time for the practice.  I think she was, like myself, curious about what had transpired in the phone call and didn't want to waste time punishing me.

"Nancy has had a great compliment about her dancing.  Doesn't want me to tell you until later.  But Priscilla?  She wants to ask a big favor of you. Is even willing to take you out to dinner – think she wants to butter you up a little.  I don't suppose you'll object to a night out with your beloved, huh?"  She turned to Mistress Candace.  "Though I should have checked with you, I suppose.  After all, you'll be in charge until the night after.  What do you think.  But I think that Priscilla has a very big schoolgirl crush on Nancy – and she HAS been quite well behaved recently."

"Wonderful!  Priscilla going out on her very first date!  How could I possibly object!  I mean, she's done so well at her studies – she's almost going to be as good a secretary as she is a maid.  Of course!  We'll buy her the prettiest dress – and get her hair done – permed I think.  And. . ."

I started to pant with fear. "Please Mistress?  Please don't, I beg of you. Please?  Nancy thinks that I'm a man – and she is my step daughter after all.  Please don't disappoint her.  I may not be much of a father figure (Rene brayed "Whoooeee!") but I'm all she's got."

"You CAN'T be thinking you're going out as a man. Surely not!  Not after what happened the last time!" Mistress said.
"Just this once?  I'll never ask again.  I promise!"
"I suppose you'll want to wear pants?" she asked.
"Yes.  Oh please.  Yes!"
"You know that I'd get a great deal of pleasure having you wear a pink party dress – all nice, with your hair up – like a grown up girl?"
"Yes.  But please?" I persisted.
"But you're still bound and determined that you want to go against what I want?"
"Just this last time. Please Mistress Candace" I pleaded.
"Well.  Okay.  But you don't get out of that door without my approval.  Understood?"
"Oh Thank you!  Thank you!" I said, almost blubbering in relief.

End of part 6


My parents came home a bit earlier than I expected them to and I could tell that mom got a little tipsy. That could be fun. When she had a bit too much to drink, she always became attentive to dad. As she was this time, maybe a little too much for his own good. As they entered the house, she pressed poor dad against the door and smothered him with kisses. Since her figure hid him from my view almost completely I couldn’t really tell, but it seemed that she even lifted him up a bit.
“Don’t mind me,” I called out from behind the TV.
“Come on, honey, stop that,” dad said, “Jenny’s here.”
“Oh okay,” she said, letting him go.
“Hi, honey,” he said to me, my mother’s lipstick smeared across his face.
“How was the party?” I asked him.
“Okay, I suppose,” he said, taking off his jacket and loosening his tie, “Quite boring, actually.”
“That’s why we left so soon,” mom said, “Though I’m really in the mood for some dancing.”
“Honey, please,” dad said to her, “It’s late.”
“Oh, don’t be such a spoil sport,” she teased him.
“Besides, we’ll be embarrassing Jenny,” he continued.
“Like I said, don’t mind me,” I replied, “If you want to dance, dance. You make a lovely couple anyhow.”
“Really?” dad asked.
“Yeah, sure,” I said, turning my focus back to the movie I was watching.
“Well, I guess I’ll go get changed,” dad said and went off to their bedroom. He appeared minutes later, dressed in his dark red ball gown.
“Oh dad, you look so pretty,” I squealed.
“Yeah, dad,” mom said, wrapping her strong arms around him, “You look gorgeous.”
“Thanks,” he said, and slid out of her embrace.
“You haven’t been stealing my clothes, have you?” he said to me as he fumbled with the stereo.
“Why would you say that?” I asked.
“Because my grey velvet skirt is missing, and my white dress is creased,” he replied.
“Well, I…” I began.
“Oh, Harold, let it go for tonight,” mom rescued me, “She’ll overgrow your clothes soon enough.”
“I hope so,” he said, “Anyway, she’ll start taking yours then.”
Before anyone could say anything else, the music sounded and my parents spun around the living room. My mother, dressed in her elegant skirt suit and high heels, lead daddy around the floor, his gown flowing around him. After a few dances, she picked him up in her arms.
“You might want to turn up that movie a bit louder,” she winked to me, and then carried him upstairs.


Slowly, I was drifting from my sleep into the real world. After a while, I was enough awaken to finally open my eyes. I saw that Jasmine was awake too, though still lying down. She reached out to stroke my side and I purred with delight. Her feathery touches through the silk of my nightdress awakened memories of the previous night. I closed my eyes again.
I had never thought I’d enjoy myself so much in a male-female-male threesome. Especially since I wasn’t gay. Neither was Jeremy and both of us were apprehensive when Jasmine faced us with her wishes. She was a very persuasive young lady, though, and soon enough, the three of us were in her bedroom. Jasmine was in full control, neither of us expected anything else, really.
After a while, we began gradually, one by one, to get up, go to the bathroom to brush our teeth and so on, but we always  returned back to bed. Although we were still tired from last night, we were radiant with blissful satisfactions. Myself, I had never had so much action, so much sex in one night. In fact, I couldn’t even tell if I had had as much sex as I had last night in my whole life! I bet the same went for Jeremy.
The last night took the least toll on Jasmine, I’d say. Instead on lying down again, she knelt on the bed, facing us, her firm breasts protruding provokingly under her white silk spaghetti strap pajama top.
“Well, boys, aren’t you going to say good morning to each other?” she almost sang.
I turned to my right and took a look at Jeremy. His hair was tussled and he was still wearing his peach nightgown.
“Good morning, Jeremy,” I said.
“Good morning, Mike,” he replied.
“That’s nice,” she said, “Now sit up a bit.”
As we raised ourselves, placing pillows between our backs and the wall, she got off the bed, then returned with some cosmetics in her hand.
Even before she actually touched my lips with the lipstick, I felt my penis rising as the make up further aroused memories from last night. As she worked on Jeremy, I tugged the hem of my lime green nightgown all the way down to my ankles.
“Now say good morning properly,” she said after she had finished her work, “Let’s see some kissing.”
I took a deep breath, but despite not wanting to, I turned to Jeremy and we kissed lightly on the lips. With his make up on, he looked like a girl, and that made it somewhat easier.
“You can do better than that,” she said, took hold of us by the hair and pressed our faces closer.
We necked for a few moments, even caressed each other but when I felt his erection on my hip, I nervously turned away. Jasmine was still kneeling over us, smiling and eyeing us greedily. I reached for her breast, but she pushed my hand away.
“No, no,” she said, “No time for that.”
“But I though-“ I began.
“Mike!” she said sternly, “We need to get dressed.”
To awkward to say anything, Jeremy and I went to the bathroom to clear our faces of smeared lipstick. When we came back, Jasmine was already in her black lingerie.
“You better hurry up, boys,” she said.

“Can you zip me up, Michelle?” Jeremy asked me.
“Sure, Jenny,” I replied, earning an approving glance from Jasmine.
As I pulled up the zipper of his yellow dress, I couldn’t help but to run my hands down his side and held his hips, admiring the frothy material that flared out from the waistline and ran down, encircling his legs.
I pressed my groin to his backside, my penis swelling up again. Only this time, instead of climbing up towards my belly button, it pressed backwards between my legs towards my ass. I wondered if it would show on the back side of my tight knee length silk print dress.
“Now, now, boys,” Jasmine said.
Mincingly, I stepped away from Jeremy and took a look at Jasmine. She wore black – black pants, black sweater, black leather belt, black shoes. Her heels were probably an inch lower than mine and Jeremy’s, yet still she practically towered above us. As if there was a psychic connection between us, Jeremy and I came closer to her, trying to snuggle up to her, touch her breast, give her a kiss.
“Sorry, boys,” she laughed as she pushed us away, “I know you’re aroused, but we really have to get going. I promised the ladies at your office I’d drop you off.”
I looked at Jeremy and saw his face freeze in panic. My own must have done the same.
“What?” Jasmine said, “You thought this was just between us three? Come on, let’s get going.”
“What do you say, Michelle,” Jasmine said as she drove out of her garage, “After Miss Jenkins sees you like this, will she still let you be the boss?”



Carrie P said...

Hi Bea could not criticise you for cover as you asked for suggestions and only got one response but if the "her" that did the cover is indeed a genuine female then it confirms what I think about the majority of females when it comes to our lifestyle - they have zero imagination. "Milked Maids" and no uniform on display?Again no criticism of you meant or intended.
rgds Carrie

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