Jenny Ch. 01

Brian was enjoying the look of consternation on her face. She looked like a frightened creature not knowing which way to turn. Like a cat, he would play with his prey a little longer, before putting it out of its misery. By her reactions, he surmised she was only now finding out how sexy the underwear was.

"Nice! Very nice, girl! At last you're dressing like an attractive young girl, rather than an old frump. You've got a great figure, so don't hide it, you'll enjoy dressing up," Brian told her. He watched her face change from embarrassment to appreciation. She seemed to lap up the compliments, reacting as though he were rewarding her.

A small step was taken on the escape route back to her bedroom. Everything changed as Brian's words were accepted as commands. "Thank you, Brian, I shall enjoy dressing up for you," she said, with a confused look, revealing the turmoil inside.

"You can help with the washing up, I'll wash and you dry," he said. "You'll find it exciting, to do some work for a change," he teased her.

Jenny stood next to him drying up while he washed. Every time she leaned forward, to pick up an item, her right nipple grazed his bare, hairy arm. The cotton was so thin she felt it like an electric shock, running through a breast, down her side, to flex her tummy.

Surely it had been an accident the first time, though now she was purposely rubbing her breast against his arm. While waiting for the next item to dry, she fiddled with the dress, unconsciously pinching a nipple and rubbing her breasts.

A knock on the door interrupted the turmoil of her thoughts.

"See who it is?" Brian told her.

Anxious to escape the humiliating new habit of rubbing up against Brian, Jenny answered the kitchen door.

"Hi, err, you wanted to see me?" Joe hesitantly asked.

"Come on in, have a cup of coffee," Brian boomed out across the kitchen, in a big friendly voice.

Jenny stepped aside and started the process by grinding fresh coffee beans. Joe stepped in from the bright sunlight, gradually becoming used to the subdued shadow of the kitchen.

"Here, sit down and rest your carcass," Brian smiled. The two of them were on friendly terms, being more or less the same age, and with a similar background in engineering.

He nudged Brian and pointed his head, toward the young woman making the coffee. She faced the machine so couldn't see who it was. "Who's that?" he whispered.

Brian smiled and shook his head.

"The boss received complaints about the security lights not working. I've changed the bulbs but it's a fault, so I need to change the fittings," Joe wearily informed Brian.

"No problem, when you can, will do," Brian said.

"Easy for you to say, but the lady made a complaint, and I'm for it if she complains again," Joe whispered. They often shared complaints about Jenny.

"You mean Jenny complained?" Brian asked.

Jenny bent over, reaching into a cupboard, showing off the stockings and garters. Both men quit talking for a moment, to take in the sight of bare thighs clasped tight by stocking tops and garters. She carried on with the task, oblivious of the show she had put on.

"Yea, that woman is always complaining," Joe began, and dried up with his jaw hanging loose.

The lady of the house had given him a hard time whenever something didn't work or meet her high standards, whether it was his fault or not. When he looked up to thank the girl for his coffee, he was astonished. It was the lady of the house, or the pain in the ass, as he called her when alone.

He had been admiring her bottom with a clear outline of the thong, through the thin dress, not realizing who it was. It was difficult to look away from the shadow of nylons and garter belt straps, to notice the rest of her. Not that he would have guessed who it was, for the clothing style was so different.

He should have looked away when she handed him the cup, for both nipples were standing erect and proud, through the dress. Water had splashed over one breast, sticking the see-through cotton to it, clearly showing off the small, pert breast.

"Have you been giving my friend here a hard time?" Brian demanded of her.

"I guess so," she stammered.

"Well, in future ease up on him, he's just trying to do his job. If you don't behave yourself you'll be punished. In future take his advice and do as he says," Brian warned her. "Go and get changed, you're showing yourself up. Change into that new exercise outfit you bought yesterday, and I'll join you in the gym when I'm ready," he firmly told her.

Joe watched the woman scamper out of the kitchen just as she had been told, with a look of amazement on his face. She had given him a hard time for months, though right now, she had given him a hard-on. He cleared his throat, after choking on the coffee.

"How did you? I mean, you seem to have her under control. I'm impressed," Joe said, to his friend, while shaking his head in wonder.

"It just takes a firm hand. I don't think she'll give you a hard time from now on, so take it easy. I hate the way these stuck up bitches take advantage of people," he added, revealing he too had suffered from a woman's sharp tongue.

"I'll drink to that," Joe said, and downed the coffee. "Thanks for saving my job. I don't think I'll press my luck though," he said, rising to go.

"Don't worry about her, she'll do as she's is told, from now on. What about a card game, tomorrow evening?" Brian asked. They made arrangements to meet, with a plan of inviting a couple of friends from the bar.

Brian closed the door behind him and strode toward the gym. On seeing her on the treadmill, he smiled as broadly as Joe had when he left. He was pleased to see she wore a nylon body-stocking, hardly believing she had gone this far so soon. He watched her ass cheeks, held tight, moving up and down with each stride.

"OK! You will try the weights again," he told her.

She lay back on the padded bench to be fitted into the gloves and ankle harnesses. He was pleased to find she was ready to comply, following yesterday's routine, with a minimum of instructions. This time he fondled her body, without her questioning him.

The body stocking was as sheer as the stockings, revealing a slim, perfect body. Squatting between her legs, he decided right then, she would have to shave. "When you lift your legs I want you to feel these thigh muscles," he said, with a hand wrapped tightly over each inner thigh.

She struggled to lift the weights pulling at her ankles. Her breathing became labored, and he wondered if it was just the weights. Her thighs pulled tight under his big calloused hands.

Jenny shuddered on feeling her father-in-laws hands intimately holding her body. She had no idea he had instructed her to feel excited whenever he was near, and right then he was so close, she could feel his breath on her crotch. He was breathing almost as heavily as she was.

The grunts and sighs sounded as though they were having sex. The electricity between them was charged with arousal. He could smell her juices and from such an indelicate position, could see her hairs sparkling with wetness.

"As your instructor you will call me sir, and thank me for helping you," he ordered.

"Yes, sir, thank you sir," she breathed heavily.

He reached forward with one hand, placing it on her tummy, with an elbow barely grazing her sex. "A few more lifts," he told her.

"Yes, sir, thank you, sir," she answered.

This time when she lifted her ankles her hips came up, pressing her sex against his elbow. The second time he wondered if she was lifting herself up, to push her sex at him on purpose. It was inches from his face, with a strong, musky, sexual odor swamping his nostrils.

It was too soon to take advantage, as much as he wanted to. His cock was like a block of wood in his old jeans, so hard it hurt. He rubbed her down as he had yesterday, only this time, hardly leaving much of her body without a hard vigorous massage. From her toes up to her head he covered her entire body only leaving out her wet lips.

She closed her eyes and mewed plaintively when he rubbed her nipples and gripped her breasts. She was arching her back and sighing, whenever he was close to her sex. She was on the edge, ready for him. He wanted to make sure he had the bitch completely hooked, before making a move.

"Take a shower then join me in the lounge, for further instructions," he told her.

"Yes, sir, thank you sir," she hastily answered.

Jenny ran to her private bathroom to speed through washing herself. Dressing was a hurried preparation, to get back to his presence.

He nearly whistled when she hurried in. He sat back in the easy chair, taking a good look at her. "Turn around, spin," he told her. The little skirt arose around her upper thighs showing off the little thong. It cupped her sex, and little more than that.

"You're a little honey-pot, aren't you," he told her. The little red, silk thong was enticing, as though begging to be stroked and pushed aside. The blouse was open and tied tight beneath her breasts, revealing a small cleavage.

He looked closely at her, wondering if she had put on weight. Her bust looked larger, though with the nipples always so engorged, it was hard to tell if they were just pumped up with arousal. For the last two days she was continuously rubbing them, as though they itched, but this was just another instruction she was obeying. The half-cup bra also gave them a more pneumatic appearance.

"Yes sir, thank you, sir," she smiled. Not knowing what he meant, she frowned in consternation. The frown lengthened as she wondered why she was here, letting him inspect her, before she left the house. She was dressed exactly as she should be, ready to go shopping.

There was something worrying her about the clothes, though she couldn't put a finger on what it was exactly. They were clean and expensive, nothing to worry about, so she put it out of her mind. It was far easier to follow instructions from her trainer, than worry about little details.

With a fresh set of instructions she set out on a shopping spree. As much as she liked spending money, she was full of eagerness to get back to him. The store she needed was hard to find. Jenny pulled her clothes together, not feeling safe in the poor looking mall. Wandering into the obscure store, with no window display, she prepared to do what she was most familiar with, spending money.

***

Walking around the store in a dream she wondered what she was doing there. She stood looking at a package not seeing it. A hand went up to massage a breast, while the other, straightened out her panties. The gusset was pulled into her cheeks and between her lips, so she dug the red silk out.

She stood before a rack of clothes, with a hand massaging a breast, and the other playing with her pussy.

"Can I help you?" a young girl smirked. "You seem very interested in the outfit," she added.

Jenny looked at her slowly coming to. "Yes, do you have my size? Good I'll take it," she said. The black dress looked so sophisticated, she didn't worry about their policy on returning goods.

Jen arrived home to find a note on the kitchen table from Brian. He was out looking for an apartment.

She massaged her breasts while reading the short note. It was a strange thing to do but her breasts had never been so sensitive, as though needing to be soothed. It had never bothered her if they were touched or not, during foreplay or afterwards, yet recently she couldn't leave them alone.

They had become sensitive and she found herself touching them. She even had to buy softer cotton bras, as the old nylon ones rubbed the nipples, leaving them like hard pebbles.

It was while out shopping yesterday she noticed a larger cup size was needed. Was it from rubbing them and kneading them so often that they had grown larger, and so sensitive?

She decided to go about the usual domestic chores, as a distraction. In each bedroom there was a wash-basket and she visited each to collect dirty washing, to make up a load. It would keep her busy though her mind began to wander. Every time she tried to concentrate her thoughts seemed to fade.

In the guest room Jenny found a pair of dirty underpants in her hand and sniffed them. It was a nasty thing to do, but the smell of maleness was so strong it seemed to overwhelm her. It struck her like a slap to the face, in such stark, black and white clarity she seemed mesmerized by the odor, rather than repelled by it. If he came into the room at that moment, he could take her without a struggle.

This realization hurt as much as a punch in the stomach. The thought of it tightened her chest bringing on a panic attack. She needed to get out of there! If he came in right then she would just capitulate, and kneel to the inevitable. As bad as that thought was, it would be impossible to resist, Jenny would have to comply whatever he wanted to do with her.

Jenny fell back on the bed panting; sucking in great lung-full's of air. Laying on the bed rubbing the crotch of her panties for dear life, she knew something was dreadfully wrong.

She was deeply frustrated, that had been obvious over the last few days. Her husband was away, but that didn't explain why she was so horny all the time. It didn't explain why she was in the guest room, her father-in-laws room, vigorously masturbating, with his image in her head. She didn't want to, she just couldn't help it.

He wasn't a stud or even slightly attractive to women. He was old and overweight, yet she was masturbating, thinking of that old pervert.

She had tried to goad him into arguing, in an attempt to get him to leave, though in return, he had become polite and was helping her around the house. He cooked their breakfast every morning, even going out of his way to buy the ingredients, to make a special fresh fruit drink; what he called his 'special juice'.

Unexpectedly she was getting up early, in anticipation of a good breakfast and the special juice he made for her.

For a moment the excitement became much stronger, on thinking of his juice inside her. Her fingers had found her bud, hard and sensitive, and she nearly had an orgasm. The sexual tension hit a plateau and she knew she wouldn't reach the satisfaction craved for. She continued playing with herself, unable to stop, needing to do it, wanting to get rid of the frustrating feeling of being continuously on the edge.

It didn't seem to matter her father-in-law might come home and find her like this. Spread over his bed, fingering her pussy, squeezing her nipples.

Jen tried a bit harder, pushing two fingers inside. She was desperate to cum, not wanting to spend the rest of day feeling so distracted, so sexed up. Surely it was just that mistake of sniffing his underwear, and the strong maleness, that brought her father-in-law to mind, while trying to get herself off.

She felt a moment of deep shame that she was doing this, for she had never before played with her pussy. It soon passed as the need to orgasm overtook her. Her thighs soon became messy, with her sex juices. She didn't want to stain the stocking tops so spread her legs wider over his bed.

Whenever Brian spoke to her it felt like an order that couldn't be ignored. He was an older man of authority, and so of course, it would feel like that. With her husband away he was the man of the house, entitled to guide her. At first it seemed a curious thought, though it soon took hold of her. She began to take it seriously, especially after breakfast and that wonderful juice.

The thought of that horrible old man controlling her, sent a cold shiver up her spine. It quickly turned into a heated rod of iron churning her stomach, pushing her deeper into the throws of passion.

Spreading her legs more, she tried to work harder, at bringing herself off. The dress had been tugged up around the waist and she was careful not to spoil the straps and stocking tops, with her flowing juices. She could do with some of his juice right now, for she was so thirsty for his 'special juice'.

Brian watched her from the doorway, with a wry grin on his face, before walking in. The sweat was dripping from a writhing body. Fingers were rubbing her clit and a hand was squeezing a breast. Her hips were thrusting upward as she air-fucked her cunt, with a bottom bouncing, in a desperate rhythm on the mattress.

"What's going on here then?" he asked. The exaggerated, admonishing tone of voice, was put on, for he knew full well what was happening to her. The suggestions he made to her, while under the influence of the juice, was working more effectively than he had thought possible.

"Go away!" she shouted, between panting and gasping for air.

"I'll leave you to it then," he said.

"Please!" she gasped. "Don't leave me like this, please. Do something!" she pleaded.

He stood above her looking down at the desperate woman, unable to stop masturbating, even in front of him. The expression on her face showed clearly a deep frustration and humiliation. She closed her eyes, as though trying to escape the dire situation.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked.

"I need to," she croaked from a dry throat. "I need a," she tried again. She was too dehydrated to cry, or too far gone for tears. She should stop this awful show before her father-in-law but couldn't stop, couldn't escape the torment. The need had built up to such a pitch an orgasm was paramount, far stronger than her moral decency.

He sat on the edge of the bed trying to look stern, as though disapproving of this indecent display of wantonness. "I've never seen such a wanton exhibition," he claimed, which was true. Brian had been to some dirty dives in his time, but this wasn't just an act, it was a real sexual desperation.

"I can't take much more! Please help me!" Jenny cried out.

"I'm not sure I should, it wouldn't be decent," Brian admonished her.

"Please!" she yelped, while furiously rubbing her clit with a thumb and two fingers delving inside.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked, with a sound of resignation in his voice, as though he were reluctant. It was the hottest display of sexual fervor he had ever seen, and it took all his self-control not to just jump her.

"No! Please don't make me say it, please! Just do it!" she gasped. Jenny was under a maelstrom of emotions, bombarding her mind, with explosions of conflict ripping her apart. She couldn't admit to such a disgusting need, let alone say it. The awful realization of what she needed, a relief from the powerful lust driving her, had to be assuaged for it was driving her mad.

"Tell me what you want," he persisted.

"Do it to me, make me cum!" she cried out.

"Do what exactly," he teased her.

"Bastard! You know what I need, I must have it, I need a cock in me," she screeched.

He moved closer leaning over her, with the dirty stale smell of beer and cigarettes, wafted among the odor of her sweat and musky, pungent sex.

"You bastard, just do me, fuck me, fuck me now, you bastard!" she cried out, as though in pain.

He scrambled onto the bed, moving between her legs. They quivered in anticipation. Her stomach convulsed, sickened from what she anticipated, yet trembling with desire too.

Brian positioned himself over the young attractive woman, remaining in control, ready to pierce her. His engorged cock rubbed her thigh and she arched her back searching for him.

"You bastard, give it to me, do me, now!" she complained.

He avoided the searching movements of her swiveling hips, pinning her shoulders down with his weight and her torso with his fat stomach. "Ask me nicely," he demanded.

"No! Don't make me wait! Oh! Please, please fuck me, please," she cried out. She felt his cock nudge her lips. "No! I can't do this, its wrong, stop please, no!" she cried out in fear.