Le Sexe Superieur Ch. 05

I do feel a bit guilty coming home late, after having such mind-blowing sex. Far-out sex. As I park the Prius and leave the car in our garage, I remember the feel of Peyton's corset.

It's 9:30 and Hadley's already in bed half asleep. She doesn't ask about my late arrival or wonder just what the heck Peyton was doing with me. Part of it's because she has to get up early the next day and needs to bank some shuteye.

I slip out of my dress and nylons, take a quick shower to remove any vestige of perfume and sex, and take a leak by sitting on the toilet (Hadley and I agreed long ago that standing to pee risks splatter, and is coarse). I put on one of my cotton nighties, get into bed and curl up alongside Hadley, partly because I like doing that, but also because I want her to know I like being close to her.

A little about my family. Hadley is 36, a bit stout and heavyset, and if there are words to describe her, it would be "steady, dependable and kind." Her whole family (of English-German ancestry) is that way: they are smart, hard workers, solid parents, and usually hold down professional jobs like hers. She wears no makeup, her dark-brown hair is nicely combed, with a side part, and she favors trousers with creases (unless she's on a job site where she might get dirty, where she'll switch to Levis and jean jacket). Usually she heads out wearing a white shirt, or a patterned white shirt, with a non-descript tie (or a full business suit if she has a high-level meeting), and always, with her plastic hard hat. Hadley has average breasts, but de-accentuates them with a minimizer bra. I am so proud of how far she's come within the state's bureaucracy - managing things like highway, water and bridge projects. Eventually, I expect she'll graduate to a desk job at the state capital, managing less senior civil engineers and large projects.

Our two girls, Whitley (age 8) and Avery (age 6) are now in school, and doing very well. We took such pains when they were pre-school to orient them towards building things, playing contact sports like soccer, being able to roam free and have adventures, go fishing, and so on. No more dolls and pink, frilly dresses and making cookies for girls these days! Whitley and Avery keep their hair short, and always wear trousers and shirts or sweaters. We have friends with young boys who are being aimed toward emphasizing their softer sides, to be proper and behave themselves, to serve others and yes, learn how to cook.

From a very early age they wear dresses and keep their hair long. This is the natural order of things in our society.

I'm more or less the disciplinarian with the girls by default. Because Hadley's gone so much and has to spend time on her computer at home going over projects, I spend the most time with them. Sometimes when they disrespect me, I suppose because of my domestic roles and gentle personality, I have to ask Hadley to back me up. They ultimately obey Hadley more than me. That's the reality.

Hadley and I would like to have one more child, hoping for a boy to balance things out, so we've been having unprotected sex. I'm responsible for keeping a calendar of her fertile times, and when that time of the month comes around, I remind her. Then, we will most certainly make time for extra sex. Usually, she mounts me, squatting style, as she prefers, and I make my contribution to our family's future. But once in a while she has me take the more active role and fuck her missionary or doggie style. I'm a bit uncomfortable doing that, because I want her to take the lead and fuck me. But whatever she wants ...

Maybe twice a month she fulfills my needs (when she's in the mood) by fucking me. We now have a new device we're trying, one end of which fits in her vagina and the other end projects as a cock, with a small, quite ingenious vibrator between the two to contact her clit while she's fucking me. That way, we both can come.

I love her so much inside me. I could actually have her use the new double-dildo a couple times a week, but I don't want to pressure her or make her think I'm too needy. So when we do do it, it's special and I get really horny thinking about it. Once she's in the mood, she can really get into the fucking thing! Afterwards, as a way to thanking her, I'll often eat her out, and if she hasn't had an orgasm fucking me, she'll come when I'm sucking her clit.

She's pretty silent about our sex, while I make sure to tell her how happy our fucking makes me, and how good she is with sex ...

But now, when I have sex with her, in the back of my mind I'm remembering my time with Peyton, and comparing Peyton's style with her's ...

Back in the office, things are running smoothly enough. It takes some getting used to for me to manage people, but I try my best. I try to empathize with the needs of my crew (even Bobbi) and keep them happy. But on the other hand, I've learned that from time to time I do need to be firm and stand by my decisions, and to make decisions rapidly. That's a stretch for me.

Peyton and Bobbi still do flirt a little, but that doesn't much bother me because everyone knows it's "just Peyton being Peyton," and besides, I know that I have access to my boss's cunt and playroom. Still, I wonder if Peyton will eventually try something with Bobbi (or - maybe they've already done that and I'm clueless).

Peyton and I meet on Mondays and Thursdays (her decision) in her office to ostensibly go over work production and scheduling, and for me to be updated on new stuff. Her door's closed and locked, and there's no way for the staff to see in.

Peyton's usually making allusions to our hot night at her place, complimenting me on how well I'm dressing (I've upped my game since my promotion), and hinting she wants to get together again.

"I'm surprised at myself; I loved that corset," I admit. "Love to wear it again sometime. Turns me on."

Peyon replies: "Women back in the day were into some sexy stuff, or maybe they didn't even consciously see it as sexy. Tell you what, Andrea. I was looking around online, and knowing how much you like tight things, I want you to buy some men's panty girdles, especially the kind with padding to give you a better-shaped derriere - in addition to the man mound. Do that for me and wear them to work."

I notice she's no longer asking, but telling me to do stuff. I like that; gives me a twinge of pleasure.

"And buy one of those men's girdles that shape you from shoulders to thighs, know what I mean? Like it even pushes up your man titties a little."

Sexy images are dancing around in my mind and there's an instant erection.

"And while we're at it - why stop there!" - she laughs one of her deep laughs - "get one of those man-bras with the fake nipples ... Really, you do want to do better than Bobbi, don't you?"

So now she's trying to play me against Bobbi, like she's going to choose between the two of us?

"Well, I don't want to turn the office into a nipple contest, if you know what I mean," I reply.

"Merely planting some seeds in your fertile mind, Andrea. I know you think about sex, maybe not as much as me, but looking sexy is fun. Really is."

"If I buy a whole lot of stuff, my wife is bound to get suspicious," I respond.

"I know, I know, but if these things turn you on you'll find a way ... "

"I suppose I will."

"By the way," says Peyton cheerfully, "I'd love to take your wife and you up in my plane sometime. It's got four passenger seats; maybe you could take your kids along too. Take an hour flight, or something."

I mention this to Hadley, thinking it would help erase any suspicions she has about the Peyton and I, and she seems mildly interested, although state contractors sometimes give her a lift to job sites with their own planes or helicopters. The opportunity languishes, and we never take her up on it.

I end up (minor pun here) buying three "enhanced" man-girdles of the kind Peyton wants me in, and somewhat later buy the full-length one. Hadley is curious - and amused - by my sudden interest in going beyond displaying mere man-mounds. I tell her that being in my new job has made me want to look better. She disapproves, though, when I buy the faux-nipple bra, saying it seems ridiculous. "The kids will notice," she says, "and probably wouldn't understand. You might be sending them the wrong message - that it's good to dress provocatively."

Finally, I get my act together for the first time and wear both the padded girdle and the nip bra, and take a long look at myself in our full-length mirror. I certainly have some nice curves where I didn't have them before, and I love the tightness of the girdle. I've let my hair grow longer now and I've had my hairdresser do more with it by styling and adding cute streaks. My lipstick is a better red. My shoes have higher heels. I've begun, for the first time in my life, painting my nails. And of course, there are those bigger nipples (even if they're false) ... Hell, I even turn myself on ... However, I know exactly at what point I would be crossing over into slutville and I don't go there.

Finally, Hadley gets around to complimenting me: "Well, hon, I can see you're really getting into this beauty thing, and you know, it looks sexy. Darn sexy! So forgive me for saying stuff earlier."

Even the kids eventually approve.

And Peyton definitely approves. At one meeting in her office, she again reaches down to my nipples again, under my bra, and begins playing.

"Andrea, Andrea, we really do have to do something about the way you're turning me on, don't we?"

"I'm open to ..."

She switches the subject abruptly, as she's prone to do: "Look, I'm sorry your family never took me up on the offer of the flight, but there is something coming up ... "

"Oh?"

She moves around to begin pulling up my skirt to see what girdle I'm wearing. It's one of the sexier ones. She brushes her hand along it briefly.

"There's the annual meeting of the association I belong to - they put out this magazine (she hands it to me - it looks boring). It's the Society of Municipal Managers, and they're meeting in Saint Louis this year. I go to these around every three years just for the heck of it - learn a few things - get to fly - and party - hey! And the city pays for it. I want you along with me, Andrea. Tell your wife it's an opportunity ... And, think of the nice, well, hot time we could have there ... It's only three weeks away."

"Hard to do with my family. Of course we would be in separate rooms - officially, anyway."

She nods and smiles, "Officially." She pushes aside strands of my hair to kiss my forehead. "Something to really look forward to. Something to plan some fun for ... "

"And, like you say, pick up some job tips."

"Yeah, maybe that too."

As she steps away, making it clear our meeting's over, I look at her lovely behind, and again fantasize about her being that sexy woman in the bomber jacket in the deli.

Again, Hadley approves of the trip and is able to arrange some days off so she can take care of the kids, but has a parting shot: "No funny stuff, right?"

"Who, me?" I joke.

In weeks before our departure, one of our crew of all-male clerical workers leaves and I coordinate with Peyton for a replacement. We interview five candidates, one of which is a woman, and to the office's surprise, we choose her, partly because Peyton knows her, but also because we think it might be good for the office chemistry to have diversity. Also, the woman's a single mom and really needs the work.

Her name's Wilson, she's now the youngest person in the office, and she comes across as rather innocent and guileless. She has a Swedish look, is tall, and dresses simply, often with coarse-knit sweaters and tan chinos. Her hair is quite blonde and she wears it all combed straight back. It's odd, but I find her pale blue eyes and her natural eyebrows the most attractive things about her.

During our interview I had found those eyes migrating to my chest, to my wonderful faux nipples, and I thought, "It's so crazy that people get wired to respond to certain stimuli. It's so predictable."

Now, I'm looking forward to seeing how the guys treat her and work with her, and to see if any office liaisons develop over time.

Peyton and I leave on a Thursday, mid-afternoon, putting Bobbi temporarily in charge. The conference is mainly taking place on Friday and Saturday, with Sunday left for socializing and touristy jaunts. Peyton drives her Land Rover down to the county airport, parks, and we check in with a flight plan. Then it's a long walk over to her hanger, where I'm introduced to her blue Beechcraft Bonanza prop plane. She's the plane's second owner, it's only five years old, and she's still paying for it, she says.

An employee helps move the plane outside the hanger, and she has me climb in, feeling rather awkward in my skirt, short heels and small suitcase. The interior is wonderfully well-cushioned and comfortable, and naturally, Peyton has me sit in the co-pilot's seat next to her and helps me get strapped in.

"Aviation bondage," she quips.

I'm thoroughly impressed by her finesse as she throws switches, lights up LED displays, talks to the tower on the radio, and finally starts and revs up the engine. Private prop planes definitely have more noise and vibration than the commercial jet planes I'm used to. Soon we swing onto the runway and like a pro she accelerates until we're really whizzing down the tarmac and lightly become airborne. I trust her skills completely.

I can tell she revels in this role and loves to show off. Soon we level off and head toward Missouri through scattered clouds and strong sunlight. She's talks about her love of Beechcraft planes (it's what she learned on) and explains how some of the plane's safety gadgets work.

I look at her, wearing a half headphone with microphone. She's wearing a thick wool plaid shirt with dark blue trousers and wide leather belt. Her longish hair is pushed back behind her ears, which display the tiniest of round shiny metal earrings. I admire the strength in her face, the way her cheekbones define it, and her half-humorous, half-resolute lips.

Next to her, I feel rather flighty (pun again) and insubstantial. My own pierced ears sport hoop earrings with lacy filigree inside. I decided against wearing perfume in such a small space, although I brought some along. My dress had to be modest so Hadley wouldn't suspect anything - it's a dark, knee-length knitted thing with a couple nice white strips around the middle. I'm wearing light makeup and subtle lipstick, and nice, tight pantyhose which makes my legs, to be honest, look really good. I notice Peyton looking at them from time to time.

I also notice her looking when I remove a compact from my purse to touch up my makeup during the flight - just for something to do.

After some shop talk during the first hour, our conversation edges around to, you know, sex, as the sun sets behind us and darkness closes in.

(To be continued.)