A Book of Letters Ch. 02

Kathryn returned to her office and listened for the banker's footsteps in the hall and the front door closing behind him. She felt exhausted, but she had a great deal of work to do now that her plan with Alex was in motion. So, she turned to her computer and set to work.

Many hours later, Kathryn stripped her clothes off while she waited for the shower water to warm. Standing before the mirror, without the clothes of Mistress Kate, without a bank of computers in front of her, without the power she drew from the success of the day with Alex, she was just Kat, a twice-divorced 38-year-old woman. Just a 140 pound, 5 foot 4 inch tall woman, approaching what felt to her like middle age. Her body, which she used with such effect, did not feel sexy and voluptuous. She had been told hundreds of times, by men and women both, that she was beautiful, but in this moment she did not feel that way. She felt alone. Kathryn was not a religious woman, but she said a silent prayer to herself, asking for strength, before stepping into the shower.

Ten minutes later, Kathryn slipped a white nightgown over her head and pulled on a clean pair of white, cotton panties. It was 5 a.m. She fell on top of her bed, not bothering to pull the covers down. Kathryn slipped into a fitful sleep.

Kathryn was in Alex's apartment, checking the camera in his bedroom. She was wearing a simple sundress, tennis shoes, and her hair was down, pushed behind her ears, as she peered behind a mirror examining a camera. Kathryn heard a noise, someone breathing behind her. Startled, she turned suddenly, and Alex was standing in the doorway of the room. He was naked, except for his lacy panties. His body was firm for a 45-year-old man, but his dark hair and beard were flecked with gray. Alex stared at her. There was something in his eyes, unspoken, something he was trying to tell her, but she could not understand. Alex did not speak.

Alex walked toward Kathryn, as if he recognized her, but Kathryn knew that could not be right, he had never seen her before. Kathryn trembled, her entire body shaking, as Alex slowly walked across the room. Kathryn began crying, first wet tears falling down her face, and then sobs that racked her entire body. Alex stood before her, looking at her with a gentleness, with a love, she had never seen before. Alex's gray-blue eyes burned into hers, and Kathryn sobbed. She badly wanted Alex to take her into his arms, to hold her, to make this pain go away, but he did not.

Kathryn lost consciousness, and then woke again. She was in Alex's room, lying on her back in his bed. The hem of her sundress was above her waist, and she was wearing nothing else. Alex was at the foot of the bed. He had removed his own panties and they dangled from the end of his middle finger. He smiled at her, and the panties fell to the floor.

Alex kissed Kathryn's left foot, softly taking each toe into his mouth, sucking them, kissing them. His kisses moved to her ankle, and slowly up her inner thigh. Now, Alex's face was between her legs, his tongue darting into the wet folds of her pussy. Her body trembled. Occasionally he looked up, his eyes boring into hers, as his tongue explored her mound. His kisses then moved up Kathryn's stomach, finding their way to her sundress. Alex's kisses so soft, but it was if her sundress were not even there. Kathryn could feel them all. Then, his tongue in Kathryn's mouth, meeting hers, folding into it, his sweet breath mixing with her own. Kathryn's tears returned, but they were not sad tears. Her heart was exploding.

Alex entered her, slowly pushing every inch of his hard cock into her. As the fullness enveloped her, Kathryn lost track of who she was. Rather than lying on her back being entered by Alex, she was on top. It was Kathryn's cock slipping into his wetness, stroking his bare pussy; it was her tongue exploring Alex's mouth. Alex, his eyes looking up at her with love, his beard brushing her face as their lips met. Kathryn pushing into him, pulling out, gently making love to him. Alex's hairless legs wrapped around her, pulling her hips into him, the hem of his sundress pushed up. Alex, making his first sound, whispering, begging, "Please, Kat, fuck me." Then, Kathryn's cock exploding, filling Alex's contracting pussy.

Kathryn woke to the sound her alarm clock, immediately sitting up in bed. Her body was tingling, and she felt the dampness of her cotton panties. Her nipples were hard and poking through the fabric of her nightgown. She felt certain she had just had an orgasm in her sleep, another first. "Oh, my god," she thought to herself. She sat for a moment, gathering herself.

It was 6:00 p.m. on Saturday, and she had slept longer than expected. She had set the alarm as a backstop, and was now glad she had. She rose from bed and threw on a pair of jeans, a bra, and a light sweater, brushed her teeth, and made herself a quick cup of coffee. Kathryn was excited because she knew Alex would have left work hours ago, and if he had done as he was told, a letter would be waiting for her in his desk drawer.

She went to her office, and turned on the computer. She quickly found the video from Alex's office that day. He had been there, and he was writing in the journal. Scanning forward, she saw Alex packing his briefcase and leaving the office. "Good," she thought to herself. Kathryn scanned through the entirety of the video from the day, making certain that Alex had not gotten cute and hidden his own camera. She also checked the GPS monitoring systems she had set to make certain there were no unexpected movements, and felt satisfied. She also checked his phone records; again, nothing unusual. It appeared that Alex had decided to play it safe today, to ride it out, but Kathryn knew eventually he would look for his escape. Kathryn was ready for that day too, but for now, all was still moving according to plan.

Kathryn grabbed the green, canvas bag from her office, and moved to her garage. She got into her older Acura and turned the key, the engine sputtering to a start, and she briefly thought of the contrast between the Acura's old engine and the engine in Alex's Jaguar. Kathryn drove to Alex's office building, but today, rather than parking in the lot, she parked two blocks away and walked.

Kathryn had not expected to initiate her plan with Alex yesterday; things simply came together at the last minute when Alex had stayed at work late. She had taken her opportunity. But, the quickness of it all caused her to make a mistake - she had left her Acura in the office parking lot that day, and she knew Alex had a clear view of the parking lot from his office window. Kathryn knew she was going to have to get rid of the Acura, but that could wait.

After first checking the parking lot for cars and finding it empty, Kathryn walked to the front door of Alex's office building, and unlocked the glass door with her own key. As she walked the hallway, she was largely unconcerned with being seen. Even if Alex had managed to beat her system and was lurking in a corner watching for her, she had reason to be there. About a year earlier, Kathryn had rented a single room office on the first floor of the building for her counseling practice. She walked to the door of her office, and glanced at the sign on the door announcing "Kathryn Sellers, Licensed Clinical Social Worker." She opened the door, and set her bag inside.

Walking to the end of the hall, she used another key - this one she had stolen some months ago from the building's cleaning staff - to open the door to a small stairway. This stairway was not open to the public, but only served as a fire escape. She walked two stories up and used a third key - again, stolen from the cleaning staff - to enter the architectural firm. Now, she had to be more cautious, stopping to listen and scan the room for any unwanted people. Feeling safe, she moved to Alex's office, opened his desk drawer with her key, removed the leather-bound journal, then carefully returned to her own office.

Safely ensconced back in her office, she stretched out on a couch, and examined the leather journal. She felt nervous again, and struggled to contain the feeling. Kathryn could not completely understand her reactions over the last 24 hours, including this nervousness. Her planning had been meticulous. Her goals were clear. But, something felt off and she could not identify why. These visions and dreams of Alex unsettled her.

Looking back at the journal, a small laugh managed to slip through. Alex had done a nice job with the pink ribbon; it was carefully tied into a girlish bow. She pulled it and opened the journal, turning to the page with Alex's familiar, neat handwriting. Her heart beating a little too fast, she read:

Miss Becca,

You told me to tell the truth, so I have to start with this truth. I do not understand why you are doing this. You say you love me, but I do not know who you are. And this all scares me. I sincerely hope you will not be offended by this, me telling you this. But, I would like it if you would tell me more about you, and why you are doing this to me. Please do this for me, Miss Becca.

I am wearing the panties right now. I wore my suit to the office today, over them, as you said I could. I would not ordinarily wear a suit on Saturday, but I am really trying listen to you and respect you, so I wore my nicest suit. Do you like it?

Yesterday, when I put the panties on for the first time, I was not sure how to feel. I had been frightened. I did not have a choice. I had never worn panties before yesterday. Putting them on felt strange, I did not feel like myself. I felt like someone else, almost like I was out of body. Almost like I was you, Miss Becca, watching it happen. It did not hurt my pride to know you were watching me, not then. It just felt different. As I drove home, I could feel the lace pressing against my skin, and it finally hit me that, yes, it was me who was wearing them, not someone else.

When I got to my apartment, I went straight to my room and took my clothes off, everything except for the panties. I was in the bathroom, and I stood for a few moments, looking at myself in the mirror. The panties looked different on me. I had seen Veronica in them, and as you said, she was sexy in them. I looked at myself, naked, and I felt a disgusted with myself.

Then, I got into bed. I did not sleep much last night, Miss Becca. My mind was firing, confused. I laid awake for several hours, then I drifted off into sleep. I had a dream, and I am a little afraid to tell you this dream, but I am trying to be truthful with you. I want to respect you.

Veronica was in my dream. She was laying in my bed, wearing these panties, but nothing else. She was looking at me, and she curled her index finger, beckoning me to her. I climbed into bed and slipped the panties down her legs. But Veronica was different this time. She had a dick, and it was hard. I reeled back from it, but Veronica just looked at me, and she said, "Hi, Alex." She asked me to come back to bed, and I did. She was laying there, looking at me, her eyes hungry. She took my face in her hands, and kissed me, then pushed my face down to her cock. Veronica was begging, "Do it, Alex, please, do it." Then, I woke up.

I am not gay or bi-sexual, Miss Becca. But because I had been having a sexual dream, my own dick was hard in my panties when I woke up. I tried to adjust myself to get more comfortable, because the head had slipped out the side. I did not stroke it; I knew not to do that. But, it did take me a little bit of time to settle myself and fall back asleep.

I woke the next morning and took my panties off to shower. Then I went to the bathroom sink and gently scrubbed them with a mild soap. You asked me whether I liked to touch the lace; truthfully, no. They were wet. But, I cleaned them, and put them in the dryer for a few minutes. It did not take long. Then, I put them back on and put my suit on. Now, here I am at work, writing this letter.

Right now, I can feel the lace of the panties against my leg. Writing about that dream made me hard again, thinking about Veronica (not the Veronica of my dream, the real Veronica). My dick is filling them; I can feel it slipping up and out the waistband. The silky feel of the front panel, rubbing against me feels good, if I have to tell the truth. I want to touch myself, Miss Becca. But, I will not.

I hope this is honest enough for you. I hope you will think more about what I asked you, Miss Becca. I feel exposed, and as hard as that is for me, the bigger problem is I am afraid. I do not know what you want. Please tell me.

Your student, Alex Gentry

P.S. When I get home tonight, I am going to continue wearing your gift to me because, reading between the lines of your letter, I think you want me to do that. I am going to wear my panties every day, and wash them every day, just as you asked, until I hear from you again. I hope to hear from you soon.

Kathryn closed the ledger and let out a long breath. She had not realized until then she had been holding her breath. She marveled that her panties were completely soaked again, and her heart was racing. She packed the ledger into her bag, locked her office, and walked slowly to her car, her mind unable to escape the image of Alex's dream, feeling certain of two things. Her plan remained on track. And it would not be long until her next multiple orgasm.