A Swan - Not an Ugly Duckling

I thought she was going to play me the tapes that she'd made earlier, but when she hit the play button, I found it was a porn film that she'd brought in the black plastic bag and pushed into my VCR.

I started to complain -- but while I was in the bedroom changing, she'd fast forwarded it to what she wanted to show me. The scene opened with this nude man, sitting on the edge of a huge bed, in front of an equally nude woman in a chair. The guy was holding something, and when the camera zoomed in, I got my first look at a cock that wasn't in a book. It was huge and he was stroking it. The girl was telling him what to do. Inwardly I held my breath and studied it; it was just like my dream.

I spoke out of the side of my mouth and started again to complain, when all of a sudden he climaxed and stuff seemed to fly everywhere. Quickly, the girl was up and put her mouth over him and then started cleaning him with her tongue.

I asked my friend if guys were really like that. Were they always so big? She said it was real, but that the guys 'shlong' was much bigger than most men. She shushed me again as the girl pushed him back on the bed and began sucking on the man. I guess the man finally got interested, because his 'thing' got big again. Could I make a man big?

And, then the girl and you could see every part of 'her thing' too, climbed up on him and grabbed him, held him and sat on him. She apparently had guided him into her, and was now moving up and down on him. I was transfixed, my eyes were glued to the screen and I couldn't turn away. These people were doing things I'd only heard about, and a lot that I'd never heard about -- and they looked like they were having fun -- much like my dream. Oh how I wanted to be that girl.

As I watched, my mind was recording like a machine, and I was turned on by watching. The cinch on my robe had come loose, and without realizing it, my hand had gone under my robe and I was touching myself. Without warning, my friend reached over and pulled my robe back. I was startled, and she was laughing at me. I was so embarrassed that I wanted to die. But, finally she stopped and realized that I was a bit morose, and then told me that she was happy to know that I was 'human', and that I shouldn't be ashamed. As I listened, she told me that the first time she'd seen this video it was with her boyfriend and that she, too, felt embarrassed -- for a few minutes. But, her boyfriend was more turned on and they made passionate love for hours after.

I told her that I wasn't interested in seeing it anymore, and would she please leave. She insisted on leaving me the video despite my protestations, and told me to bring it to work on Monday. She left. I took the video from the machine, placed it back in its container and set it on the table by the door so that I wouldn't forget it on Monday morning. I went to bed.

I tossed for what seemed like hours. That video kept replaying in my mind. Do men really look like that? Do men really behave like that? Do women really do that? Do people do that together? Do they do it all the time? Was that video too dramatized? People couldn't do all those things!

Finally, I got out of bed and walked toward the kitchen -- but before I got there I knew I was going to watch that video one more time. I retrieved it and turned on the VCR and TV, and then inserted the cartridge into the slot on the VCR. The video began playing instantly. How? And then I realized that the tape rewound automatically at the end of a tape. Now, too, I realized that I'd never seen the start of the tape because my friend had fast-forwarded it to the part she wanted to play.

I watched that tape two more times, and two times the next day. I masturbated several times during each rerun. Late Sunday morning, my friend called again and asked if I was still mad. I told her honestly that I'd been watching the video over and over. She asked if she could come over. When she got there she'd brought the tape from our outing. We watched, commented and rewatched it, too. I was wet the entire time, thinking about those guys and what they wanted. It was almost three in the afternoon when she suggested that we go back to the department store. Again, she drove.

When we got to the store, the same saleslady was working. After a few minutes of chatting, she asked if I'd given any more thought to what the manager had suggested, and I explained that was why I'd returned. She said the manager was off for weekends, but she had the verbal authority to act. She still had my measurements on file, and she brought three new sets of bras and panties (actually one thong) for me to wear and three new dresses. The stored closed at seven but we still had time left and there were still quite a few people in the store - for a Sunday.

I put on the bright Crimson dress with Crimson bra and panty, and went out to the mirror and repeated what I'd done previously. This time there were only about fifteen people and mostly women, but they bought seven dresses. I was a success. Next I put on the green set, and they sold another six, but the crowd was larger. My last dress and garments were black lace, with a thong instead of panty. The dress was even shorter and had almost no back to it. The bodice seemed to have hands that grabbed my breasts, pushed them out, and almost forced them to display everything but the areole of each breast. I'm sure everyone could see the thong as it entered and crossed under my pubis. I'd never worn a thong, and it was difficult getting used to something wadded between my rear cheeks.

This time the clapping was louder and could be heard all through the store. People came running to see what was happening. I was even more embarrassed, and more turned on. The store even sold the undergarments this time twenty-five pair as well as sixteen dresses. I left carrying my new clothes in a bag under my arm, and my friend followed with the afternoon's video tapes.

I couldn't believe any part of what happened; it was like a dream that I didn't want to wake from. But, it was all real. Men liked me, they really liked me. I even had cards on which four men had written their phone numbers with short notes and, one note with a number that was scribbled on the corner of a paper bag from the store. The video tapes confirmed our adventure, and my friend had even used the zoom lens to focus on the front of some of the men's trousers. Two guys were actually touching themselves, and one had both hands jiggling in his front pockets. I think that even one of the women had touched herself while hiding behind a larger woman.

My life would never be the same. I was a fallen woman, and didn't care. I even showed as much of my body as the law would allow, probably, and enjoyed it. I was thirty four, and never going to see thirty five as a virgin. I was going to drive men wild with desire and passion, and I was planning to see cock, lots of it. And, I was going to see what men actually did, and find out exactly what they wanted and enjoyed. I felt free and still a bit frightened. I wanted to find out what I liked, too.

On Monday morning, I got ready for work in my usual bun and clothing and started to leave. The phone rang and it was my friend again. She asked what I was wearing, and I told her. She then begged me to go back in and dress in the most conservative of my new wardrobe, then to fix my hair and makeup and come in an hour late. I'd never been to work late in all the time I'd worked there. But, today was the first day of the rest of my life -- had I heard that somewhere before?

I did it, and as I walked into work, everyone stared. I even heard a guy that had the desk two down from my own, and worked with me for more than three years, ask who I was. When I got to my desk and sat down, I could hear the whispers. Guys were still staring, and I started to think I'd made a mistake, when my boss came charging out of his office saying "Isn't that damned Beverly hear yet? Where …". He stopped, did a double-take and turned as if to ask someone who I was. He must then have recognized me, and turned around totally red-faced. He walked over and quietly apologized to me -- it was amazing. The he invited me into his office, where I'd never been before.

He asked me to have a seat and actually held the chair for me. Then he walked back and stood in front of his desk. I could see his eyes devouring me, and I blushed. He was saying something, but all I caught was "I'm sorry. No one told me you'd be late, but it's no problem. If you need extra time, just go ahead, you can make up the work any time. In fact, your workload has increased to the point where I want to give you an assistant. I'll let you know has soon as they're on board." I crossed my legs and let my skirt ride up. His eyes didn't miss any part of the experience. As he came closer and helped me up, his eyes were on my breasts, and he asked if he could help. I held his hand and pulled myself up, while bending over slightly to give him a better view. I walked beside him and let my breast ride along his arm. As he walked me to the door, he even asked if I had changed my hair.

When I was back at my desk, my friend secretly signaled me with the victory sign, and three guys headed for my desk, and the coffee table had people standing in line in front of me. Every one of those guys, including two of them married, wanted to invite me to lunch. I politely declined because they'd had more than three years to make up their mind.

As my friend and I left for lunch, we passed the new guys desk. My friend saw him putting on his coat and actually asked him if he was going to lunch. He said yes, and she asked him if he wanted to eat with us. To our luck, he said yes thank you.

Our lunch was special -- not the food, but the conversation and association. His name was David, and he was from San Diego. He was smart and a good conversationalist. He liked the same things we liked, and he lived close by to where I lived. He asked if I was married or going steady, and I almost laughed. To be polite, he also asked my friend. Then he asked if we might share a ride to work occasionally. Oh yes, I wanted to share. As we got up to leave, he picked up the bill, and my friend excused herself to go to the ladies room. I would usually have gone with her, but the restroom here was only large enough for one person at a tome.

While we were waiting, he finally got up the nerve to ask me out. I told him that I'd like the afternoon to think about it -- but I knew what my answer was going to be. As we drove back, I found that he'd been working as a civilian for the US Navy Department, and only recently decided to try his luck elsewhere. He'd been married before, but it hadn't worked out and he was divorced with no children.

As I left work, he was still at his desk as I started to walk by. He reached out and took my hand, gently. When I stopped, he looked right into my eyes and I melted. He thought maybe I was sick, and quickly stood and helped me to a chair. I wasn't sick, I was paralyzed. When I'd caught my breath, he asked if I was okay, and I told him that it was a momentary event and that I was fine. As I started to stand, he politely asked if I'd made up my mind about our date. I asked him when he wanted to go out, and what he wanted to do. He said tonight if I was available, and he knew of a nice quiet place where we might have dinner.

I, more or less, sighed and responded that I'd love to go out. He smiled and asked if I had to go home first. Well, I didn't and he took my arm as we left. My friend was smiling and standing by her CR-V as I got into his car. As we drove by, her hand made the victory sign again, and I smiled.

Well, I didn't sleep with him that night, and there was no petting. I gave him a light kiss on his cheek when he walked me to my door. We went out again on Friday night, and I learned a lot more about a man and about a cock. He was the first to touch me and I was on fire. He fondled my breast and the stroked my pussy. Finally, he showed me oral love making and it was even better than I'd dreamed. I fucked and I tasted, liked, and sucked. He was and is a great lover, still. I still know how to dress, and I can still flirt and turn a stranger on, but...

We've been married three years now, and they are the happiest years of my life. I know how to give and get oral sex, and he has the most beautiful cock in the world. I still get wet several times a day when I think of him -- and I do think of him often. He is the greatest most passionate and skilled lover a lady could ask for. He is slow, and I am too, when we make love. He fills me with his manhood and I melt. I can do some of those things they did on that video -- but not all of them, so I'm constantly working on developing my abilities. I'm still amazed at how a cock can be so long, so hard and yet so soft at the same time, and how it curls up and goes to sleep when it's done. David is a skilled and passionate teacher, and doesn't believe me when I tell him about my past life.