tagFetishGretel Steals Her Lover

Gretel Steals Her Lover

bykingkeywriter©

Gretel squeezed into another white girdle, hooked on her black stockings, and slid white panties up to cover her nest. After strapping on her bra, she wiggled into a tight black satin dress. Even in the dim bedroom light, the material glimmered seductively.

She stepped into black patent leather pumps, two-and-a-half inches high instead of the stilts she'd worn that afternoon and earlier in the night, and retrieved the jewelry belonging to Casper's wife from her tattered shopping bag.

Gretel reveled in clasping the necklace and pinning the earrings for what would be a landmark event—changing three lives irrevocably: hers, Casper's, and Casper's wife's—because she decreed the turmoil.

Gretel put her keys in her large, patent leather pocketbook and added a pair of elbow-length black leather gloves in case Casper forgot to buy her the new pair she demanded. Wrapping a black mink stole around her shoulders, Gretel admired herself in the aptly-named vanity mirror.

Closing the door to her bedroom, she took out her cell phone and dialed. "Casper, I'm on my way."

"You're late."

"Don't sass me, boy. Are you ready for your bath?"

"No, ma'am."

"You'd better be completely naked when I get there. Understand?"

When Gretel drove away from her house, she noticed another car pull out behind her. Traffic was light for a Friday night, and she made good time to Casper's mansion. The other car trailed her up the driveway and parked a discreet distance behind Gretel's Mercedes.

She grabbed the briefcase on the front seat, snatched the keys from the ignition, opened the car door, and slid out. Closing the car door, she locked the car with her electronic keypad. Gretel hurried up the walkway to the front door, which was unlocked.

When she opened the door, Casper stood before her, naked except for a pair of black socks. Gretel stepped inside and closed the door.

"I told you to be completely naked."

Casper grinned with the impish defiance of his childhood and the eagerness of the grown man expecting a beautiful woman to thrash him. "Nobody's perfect." He laughed at his attempted humor, and then cackled when he added, "Aunt Fanny!"

"You may call me Mrs. Payne," she said crisply, struggling not to laugh. What a name! Fanny Payne. No wonder Casper associated his aunt with excruciating delight. "Fanny Payne" identified her and described what resounding physical ecstasy she brought to Casper.

Too bad Gretel couldn't use that name in Casper's office, but his joyful cries of "Fanny Payne!" would have summoned security instantly.

"Since you disobeyed Mrs. Payne," she said, "write your name four times on these papers." Opening her briefcase, Gretel took out the copies of the contract that would give her twenty-five percent of BizMart's current value. She put the papers on the coffee table and handed Casper a pen.

He reluctantly signed is name in the indicated spaces. "So much equity."

"You'll still have thirty-five percent—more than anyone else." She blew on his signatures to dry the ink. Securing the papers in her briefcase, Gretel added, "If I take care of your physical needs, you must take care of my financial needs."

"There's a name for that," he said, looking vulnerable in his nudity, despite his dour expression. He held out the pen.

"It's called addiction," she cooed. "You're the junkie and I'm the dealer. Keep my pen as a souvenir. Be right back."

Gretel returned the briefcase to her car and relocked the door. The other car remained nearby.

Stepping back inside Casper's mansion, Gretel immersed herself, momentarily, into sweetness and kindness. Casper stood powerless against her, but he'd remain addicted to her longer if she continued to mix charm with harshness, instead of a steady diet of either. "Do you have a new pair of gloves for Mrs. Payne?"

Casper smiled again. "Yes, ma'am!" He felt relieved to finish the business portion of their rendezvous. "They'll go well with your dress. I love the way the light emphasizes your curves. Makes me want to hug you."

"Casper!" She acted shocked before teasing him with a smile. "Take your socks off. Then bring me my gloves."

"Anything you say, Aunt—Mrs. Payne." Sitting on the floor while his rod stood, Casper eagerly shed his socks—impeded by an object in his right hand. Gamboling, childlike, to an end table beside the couch by the window, he snatched up the gloves in his left hand. His right hand was still balled around the mysterious object.

"Stay there," she commanded. She walked to the couch. "You like to watch Mrs. Payne put on her gloves, don't you?" She took the gloves in her hands. Her green eyes bored into his.

"I just like to watch you, Mrs. Payne. Especially when you're dressed up like a rich lady. Your heinie looks so shiny in that dress!" Casper blushed. "I like your gloves, too. They're so pretty and shiny. Seeing your hands wiggle into gloves is so sexy!"

Gretel threaded her hand and arm into her left glove first, wrinkling up the leather and then smoothing it out when she pushed her fingertips to the tips of the glove. She flexed her hand and pulled the leather taut. Holding her hand up, she rotated it laterally, palm toward her and then away, without bending her wrist, to let faint highlight coruscate off the leather.

Casper stared, beguiled. He was ingenuous, a child once more. "Do it again."

Gretel slithered her right hand into its glove more slowly than the left. When the leather bunched up, she smoothed out three- or four-inch sections, one at a time, starting at her wrist and working her way to the upper rim of her glove. Her hand and arm undulated, like a snake wiggling vertically instead of horizontally while she extended her fingers to tighten the fit.

Casper dropped what he was holding.

"What was that?"

"A condom. Daddy says if you use one, you'll be safe."

"He does, and he is," Gretel smiled.

Casper frowned when he picked up the condom. Gretel had just cracked the foundation of their fantasy.

"It's all right," she reassured him. "You're still Mrs. Payne's little boy. You always will be, Casper. I love to spank you more than anyone else in the whole wide world. Even better than your daddy."

He frowned harder. Even though Gretel didn't know Casper's father, her revelations about his aunt split the fault line in Mrs. Payne's pedestal even farther.

"Kneel down, Casper, and Mrs. Payne will thrill you beyond belief." While he knelt, Gretel took his head in her hands, let him sniff the leather aroma of her gloves, and pressed his face into the silk covering her crotch.

Casper turned his head and rubbed his right cheek against her, with his eyes closed contentedly. He turned his head to the right and caressed the slick surface over her delta with his left cheek.

Gretel took her hands away and turned her back to him. Casper put his arms around her hips. He rubbed one of his cheeks and then the other against the smooth satin over her ass cheeks. "Your fanny feels so good, Aunt Fanny. I mean Mrs. Payne."

Casper pressed the front of his face squarely into her tightly packed mass of flesh. Gretel literally had Casper where she wanted him. And she knew she, as Aunt Fanny, was Casper's Goddess.

"Put your condom on. Now you can play with yourself. Mrs. Payne says so."

"Thank you!" Casper slid the latex tube on so forcefully Gretel feared he'd trigger an instant climax.

"I still must discipline you for not being completely undressed."

"Yes, ma'am. I was bad. Please punish me."

"Bend over the couch." Gretel's right hand smacked his fleshy buttocks with an introductory, medium swat. She slapped him as hard as she could on the second shot, directly on his anus.

Her first hard smack always jolted him to the threshold of ecstasy.

"This isn't punishment," she said, mustering all of her strength to swat him. "It's discipline. Punishment is just getting even." Two quick whacks.

He felt her anger and knew he should resist her.

"Discipline makes you a better person." Three quick whacks.

Her aggressive correction completed his surrender to her.

"Someday you'll thank your Aunt Fanny. Mrs. Payne in the ass." She worked both hands into a torrent of slaps.

Casper wept softly and pumped hard. His joy couldn't reach its height until his suffering reached its depth. "Please make me good," he begged.

Gretel felt herself getting damp. Crouching, she sought to administer a crescendo of pain, but her sore hands and tired arms impeded her rhythm. Oh well; her erratic strokes would frustrate Casper—increasing her hold on him.

She longed to finger herself to match his ejaculation, and then some. But she'd that immense pleasure for her finale, when she would thoroughly humiliate Casper and ruin his marriage, all in one selfish, immensely gratifying orgasm.

Casper convulsed with his climax, and Gretel aimed a few more vicious blows to his anus to spur him over the top. He uttered primeval grunts, jerked more spasmodically, and slumped onto the couch.

"You may make love to me now," she taunted him.

"Aw, Mrs. Payne. You always say that after I've shot my wad."

"You can thrill your Aunt Fanny a new way tonight." Reaching under her dress, she shimmied her panties down. "Put these on."

"And look like a sissy?"

"Don't argue with me!"

"Yes, ma'am. I mean, no ma'am." He stood up, stepped into her panties, and slid them up. "Kind of tight."

"So am I." Her grin distilled vanity and evil. She held the hem of her dress up. "Unhook my stockings."

Casper, in wonderland again, touched Gretel's thighs, eager to caress them but fearful she'd box his ears instead of his butt. He reverently slid each garter ring down, pulled the circular metal loop over the button, and released each garter. When he finished, he kept gazing at her legs and loaded girdle.

"Stay there."

"Really?"

"Yes, honey." Gretel bent at the waist, hoisted the skirt of her dress over her waist, and pulled her girdle up as far as she could. Sticking her ass in his face, she said, "Give me what I want."

"Ooooh! Aunt Fanny."

"I'll bet you can do it better than your Daddy."

Casper's tongue shot into promiscuous Gretel's anus. Now he suspected Aunt Fanny had taken many lovers, too, including his father. Gretel's portrayal of Fanny Payne always unveiled authentic traits of Casper's kinky aunt. Casper didn't know where Gretel got her information, but he knew she was right. And no one gratified him as thoroughly as Aunt Fanny—until he met Gretel.

With Gretel his joy plunged deeper. The random glances, touches, and sensations from his Aunt Fanny launched thousands of daydreams, and Gretel almost completely fulfilled those daydreams. It was the "almost" that kept him coming back to Gretel for more and more.

Gretel savored Casper's warm, wet tongue for a few seconds before she slid her fingers in and out. Now she knew Casper would obey her explicitly, and injecting a little Oedipal rivalry goaded Casper the final few inches into her ass.

Casper's obedience intoxicated Gretel. He wouldn't dare displease her because he feared losing her. No one else held the lock and key to his loins. Gretel's aura of absolute power over Casper caused her to gasp. She was cumming!

Casper licked more eagerly to help Gretel reach her pinnacle. He embraced her thighs and pushed his face as tightly as he could into her rump.

Gretel rocked back and forth to hump her ass into Casper's face, rubbing his nose into the reality of her domination over him, until she completed several orgasms. "Keep licking until I say stop," she said, reaching over to turn on the lamp on the end table by the window.

Moments later Lila Krafft and a man in a business suit bustled through the unlocked door. Lila's eyes flashed. "Casper, how could you? Don't our marriage vows mean anything to you?"

"Yes, but—"

"Shut up! Just pack a few essentials and get out. Come back later for the rest of your belongings later."

"Does that mean you want a divorce?"

"Absolutely," she said. "I knew something was going on. So I brought my lawyer, Mr. Cheatham."

Casper stood there in Gretel's panties—his fashion statement of what to wear while getting busted for infidelity—and extended his hand. "Nice to—"

"Get out of here!" Lila screamed. When Casper headed for their bedroom to pack, Lila soliloquized, "I kept my maiden name for professional reasons. Not because I dreamed I was still single. But Casper surely acts like a bachelor!"

Casper ran down the stairs in a few moments, dressed in khakis, sneakers, a black Polo shirt, and an Orioles warm-up jacket. "I'm sorry—"

"No, you're not! Anyone can tell you just got your jollies. Mr. Cheatham, get him out of here before I castrate him. I'll give this hussy a piece of my mind before I kick her out."

Lila turned to Gretel. "Just because you're ten or fifteen years younger than I am, don't think you can come in here and steal my husband. He's not much, but he's mine. I plan to name you co-respondent in the divorce."

The two men hurried out. The horror written across Casper's face just barely exceeded the attorney's fear. The door slammed. Two car engines revved up, and the squeal of screeching tires reverberated from the driveway through the parlor.

"And another thing!" Lila yelled. The two women moved away from the window, into a shadowy corner. Lila took Gretel in her arms, kissed her flush on the lips, and said, "I've missed you terribly!"

Gretel's arms circled the taller woman's waist, and she gripped her derriere. "Me too!" Gretel and Lila pressed their loins together. "I've saved myself for you all day, my precious love," Gretel said. "And now our time has come!"

The End

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