From Jeannie to Vanessa Ch. 02

"What, parade around my house half-naked???" I hissed again.

"No. I mean get rid of some things." He responded calmly. "You need to keep two pairs of panties and two pairs of pantyhose, because there will be occasions where you will need to wear them. Donate or discard the rest. Keep anything that's particularly made for cold weather, like tights. We'll have to find some alternatives, but I don't want you to freeze in the meantime. Understand?"

"Yes," I replied more evenly, "and thank you for thinking of cold weather."

"Well," he answered with a smile, "I wouldn't want you freezing anything important off, I might want it sometime. In fact," he continued, "I want it right now."

"Now??? Here??? Are you crazy? We'll get arrested!" I protested.

He said nothing for a moment, just looked intensely at me. I could tell what was about to happen, I was going to get the "V" word again. I decided to capitulate first. I was learning!

"I'm sorry, Jack. You know I will do whatever you want. You have but to say the word."

He smiled, then, and said, "Let's take a walk."

We headed deeper into the park, away from the relatively more populated (and breezier!) riverside. We found a bench, secluded by shrubbery that reached almost to my head on one side and a thick grove of trees on the other.

Jack bent me over the back of the bench, lifted up my skirt and without so much as a how-do-you-do slid his stiff cock inside my pussy from behind. He went in more easily than I expected; with no panties on, I hadn't been as aware of how wet my pussy had gotten, probably from walking around half-naked and being displayed to gorgeous European sophisticates and dirty old men, I thought.

I quickly got into Jack's rhythm and began to move back against him as he thrust in and out of my warm, wet pussy. I closed my eyes and began to drift with all the things that had happened already today.

I had to admit it had been kind of sexy to be displayed to Jack and Marguerite, and even kind of fun to inadvertently flash the old gentleman, who I shouldn't call a dirty old man simply because he enjoyed a brief glance of a young girl's shaved pussy framed by a garter belt and stockings. And he had been quite the gentleman, I remembered. He had tipped his hat and greeted me in a charming way. I guess it wasn't so bad.

From Jack's reaction in the lingerie shop, I must look pretty sexy myself, although I realized he saw me through love-colored glasses.

About this time, Jack reached up and began to pinch my exposed nipples through the thin material of the blouse. Rational thought ceased at that moment, and Vanessa came out with a vengeance.

Heedless of any passers by, I began to urge Jack to greater effort. "Fuck me, fuck me harder. I'm your slut, your little bitch, slam it into my shaved pussy, FUCK ME!" I screamed.

Jack complied with my demands and soon - despite the poor location of the female clitoris for this "approach" to sex - the familiar waves began to beat upon the shore once more. Jack cannoned into me and exploded just as I did. I'm afraid I got really loud at that point, and I don't remember exactly what I said. But I do remember hands clapping and a little cheering from behind the shrubbery. Fuck it, I thought. I AM his slut.

For once, thank goodness, I didn't pass out. I found one distinct advantage of my current form of dress was that the moment Jack let me up, I was ready to walk away. A little unsteadily, perhaps, and dripping something down the inside of my stocking-encased legs, but walking. We left the bench arm-in-arm, heads held high.

As we exited the little enclosure, I avoided looking to where there was plainly a small group of people standing - our unintended audience. Once again, we received a rousing ovation for our performance.

Fortunately, there was a public restroom nearby, and I was able to get some tissue paper and a little water and clean up. After I emerged, we clutched each other and ran giggling like school kids to where Jack's car was parked.

Inside the car, I barely had the door locked when he grabbed me and passionately kissed me. I thought we were never going to come up for air! But it was wonderful. He made me so hot! I finally pulled away and literally tore open his pants and began to suck on his softened cock, amazed again how that wrinkled little thing could swell in my hands or mouth into the huge veiny monster I knew so very well. But, all praise and glory to the youthful pecker, it did.

Soon I was licking and sucking his stiff cock, and tasting my own juices on him, which only made me feel even sluttier. I remembered the oral assault from last night, and did my best to relax my throat and take him all the way in, but we were just at the wrong angle for that.

He lifted my skirt and stroked the welts on my cheeks and tut-tutted sympathetically (Had he forgotten that he had put them there???). Then he put his hands in my hair and began to fuck my mouth gently, then more urgently, and soon he had produced another delicious gift for me to swallow.

When I at last raised my head from his lap, I was genuinely concerned that we would have drawn another crowd to our passionate performance, this time sitting in a car that could easily be traced or recognized. But whatever angels watch over slutty little girls and their masters were in full control - we were alone.

Jack sat back and looked at me for a moment. "I think I've created a monster!" he said with a smile.

I grinned wickedly and replied "Well, you are fully responsible for your creation. Now, I think your creation needs a meal. One that we BOTH can share." I continued, cleaning off my chin with my finger and sucking the last of his cum into my mouth with a loud smack.

I had just realized that I hadn't eaten since my interrupted breakfast that morning. I was ravenous! I fixed my lipstick and makeup in the car mirror and then we headed over to TGI Fridays for a quick dinner. We behaved ourselves in the restaurant and then we thought it best to head to my house.

I was going to have to resort to a little trickery to comply with his demands that I discard a lot of my underthings, and I needed to get my new items into the house without any questions. Since I was heading back to school the following day, I would be able to put them in my suitcase and then they would be out of the house and out of view.

The next day was Sunday, and although my folks weren't insistent about it, they really liked for me to go to church when I was home. Jack often went with us.

When I queried him about tomorrow, he responded "Of course! I wouldn't miss a chance to see you squirm in your bareness in church."

Ooh, I hadn't thought of that, but of course I would need to be "naked below" with him in church. This should be interesting!

The following morning, I had set an alarm to make sure I had time to do all the "extra" preparation that was now required of me. The shaving went well, and after I fumbled with the stockings and garter belt for ten minutes or so finally got all that together. How I missed Marguerite's expert and beautifully manicured fingers!

After the "kidnapping/rape" on Friday night and the fumble in the jungle the previous afternoon my sole pair of high heels (that met Jack's standards) was getting a little dirty so I had to brush them off pretty carefully. I would have to ask Jack to move purchase of some more heels up on the priority list, although I feared (as I thought about it a little more) that they were likely to be even less comfortable than these. Ah well, love...or lust...conquers all.

Once again I found myself looking in the mirror as I finished my makeup. Had I changed? The nervous girl had now displayed herself deliberately to Marguerite and not so deliberately to an elderly stranger. We had fucked in public and I had screamed out my lust to unknown onlookers. Did I look different? Could you tell? There was still no answer.

I rode with my parents to church and Jack met us outside. Dad had a good day fishing on Saturday so most of the ride had been consumed with his stories of angling adventure. We walked down the central aisle a short distance and took seats about halfway back from the altar. Jack was next to the outer aisle, I was next to him, then Mom, then Dad.

Jack looked down at my thigh and placed his hand right on the little bump the garter made in my thin skirt, which he promptly caressed. He also gently stroked the area above the bump, which he knew was covering the bare flesh of my upper thigh. The outfit I was wearing was a typical suit of the time; padded shoulders, nipped waist, and slim pencil skirt. The jacket was dark-brown with a beige satiny blouse and the skirt was a pale tan color. It was by no means skin tight - I mean we were in church! But it hugged my thighs pretty well. I actually liked the way it looked on me.

I guess what I'm trying to get at is, I had only worn garter stockings for one day, part of a day really, and I didn't realize just how visible the "garter bump" would be in a fairly snug, light-colored skirt. My mother, of course, had worn that sort of thing for years and so knew exactly what they looked like. I saw her look down at the "bump" on my right leg (the one Jack's hand was not resting on), then look over at where his hand was, and then look at me. When she realized I was looking at her, she quickly looked away.

Now, we were college students, and engaged, but we were just beginning to emerge from our nests, so you have to try to get your head back into the mid-80's to understand what immediately went on in mine. Holy crap! I'd been made!! What was I going to do? What was I going to say if she asked me about them? I was freaking out but I had to appear absolutely unaffected.

To say I got very little out of the service would be an understatement. It's a wonder I was even able to stand up at the right time for the hymns. Jack must have thought I was off my rocker or something. It was so bad that as we walked down the aisle after church it seemed like EVERYBODY was glancing down at my thighs, EVEN THE MINISTER. I thought I was going to melt into the floor.

During dinner at home, with Jack sitting next to me, I was really wired. I know he must have thought I was crazy. He kept trying to rub my leg under the table, and I kept pushing him away. I finally asked my Dad if he had caught any crawdads on his trip yesterday.

He looked at me strangely, and answered, "No, but it's funny you should ask about that. I thought you couldn't stand the little critters?"

"No, I can't. I was just curious."

The harassment from Jack instantly ceased, although from the look he gave me I knew I would have to answer for it later. Jack actually didn't stay very long; he was headed back to school that afternoon himself, and he had some things to do before he left. He gave me a perfunctory kiss going out the door, and I promised to explain as soon as I could. It killed me for him to leave that way, but I just couldn't talk with everyone around.

I went back to my room to pack. I had just started getting out of my clothes when my mother tapped on the door. Here it comes, I thought, I'm about to get my butt chewed. She came in very quietly and sat on the end of the bed.

"How long have you been wearing a garter belt and stockings, Jeannie?" she asked without preamble.

"Just since yesterday, Mom. I'm sorry..." She held her hand up.

"Are you comfortable in them yet?" she continued.

"Not really." I replied, wondering where this was going.

"Well, I thought I might show you some ideas about what works and what doesn't, what to wear with them, how to hide the bumps a little, that sort of thing." She answered with a conspiratorial smile. "They are really great for some things, but they can be inconvenient at times. I wore them for quite a while, particularly when I was your age, before pantyhose, so I thought I might be able to share a little of my experience with you."

You could have knocked me down with a feather. I wasn't about to get chewed out, or receive a talking-to about being loose, I was going to get some free how-to from my mom!

"Just a sec, Mom, let me go to the bathroom, and I'll be all ears!" I answered.

I managed to grab a set of panties from the open drawer of my dresser without (I hoped) her seeing, and slipped them on in the bathroom. Garter belts and stockings might not shock her, but shaved pussy and welts on the behind might be pushing the whole mom & daughter bonding thing a bit TOO far.

For the next hour, we talked about how to choose clothes, wearing slips (I hadn't really worn them in a while, but she convinced me of their utility in certain circumstances) how to adjust the garter belt and attach/re-attach the stockings easily, and a dozen other things.

After she left, I thought about it a lot. I realized that she had been young once, also. She wasn't really old even now, just in her late 40's. I knew the mores had shifted since she was dating, and I know they've shifted even more since the 80's, but I think she had finally accepted that her baby girl was now a woman, and was going to do the things that women in love had always done.

She was happy that Jack and I had found each other, and although I certainly hoped she didn't know everything about "the new me," she figured I was going to do what I was going to do. And if that included giving up the comfort and convenience of pantyhose to return to the complicated, messy (but way sexier) stockings and garter belts of yesteryear, so be it.

I immediately got on the phone and called Jack. I explained why I was acting so uptight in the church and crazy at home, and what had happened with mom. We shared a good laugh. He told me that was an excellent use of the "safe word," and that I shouldn't worry about any punishment. Hmm, that word again. Made me REALLY curious.

Jack and I returned to our respective schools on Sunday afternoon, and so further developments in the case had to wait. That didn't stop us from the occasional hot phone call, but you've got to remember long distance phone calls were expensive in those days, AND the only phone was the one on the wall in the hallway of the girls' dorm, AND you had to put coins in the slot unless you had a calling card. The same was true for Jack, only he wasn't calling from the girls' dorm (I hoped!). Can't remember that far? Weren't even born then? Tough titty said the kitty. It was different.

-to be continued-