Pamela

This story is a work of fiction, and all characters are fictitious. Any correlation to real people is purely happenstance. This work results from a conversation's conjecture, specifically, what might make that storyline possible. Both characters are adults; one is thirty-six and still lives with her mother. The other character is nearing forty-seven and a widower. The main setting of the story is fictitious although Franklin is a common name for places in the south this one is not a real town. Warning, this story contains light female domination as well as CFNM. Leave a comment if you can guess the supposition of the conversation that enabled the story.

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On Friday, Pamela Elaine Gane walked down her rural road with a plate of cookies. Pam could smell the fresh scent of the southern pine trees in the breeze and make out the house finch chirping in the meadow. The heat waves distorted her view over the asphalt road as she walked. Pam loved the country setting of her neighborhood. The houses were at least an eighth of a mile apart. Pam only put in a three-hour day, having worked a five-hour day the previous Saturday. She had to work Saturday at the library; it was part of a rotating schedule, which gave her a long weekend the following week. Now just before one o'clock, she walked down Martin's sloped drive. After hearing, that her new neighbor was a sexy widower from her friend Rachael, Pam, a petite yet shapely demure single woman, though naturally reserved, wanted to meet the new man. News travels fast in a small town, and Pam wants to meet her new neighbor as soon as possible. Available bachelors were scarce in the small dying town.

Pam and Rachael were best friends and had been since grade school, even though they were like oil and water personality-wise. A gregarious cashier at the small-town grocery store, Rachael could effortlessly get information from people, a great conversationalist. Though Pam, her best friend, was the studious wallflower, she never got anything she wanted to say out correctly. Pam always felt a bit daft when talking to strangers. It was true that opposites attract as they were ever so close, like sisters.

Rachael had learned his name as Martin. Martin had told Rachael how his wife had succumbed to a sudden bout with brain cancer. Martin, a fit near forty-seven-year-old, had purchased an aging farmhouse and quickly renovated it before moving in. This move to the southeast from California was an attempt to move on from his grief. Plus, live more economically off his trade pension. Luckily, he had been able to take advantage of the twenty-five-and-out plan since he had worked for the Bay Area union since leaving high school. He would have worked longer if his wife had not become ill, but her final months took everything he had, making retirement the only fiscally sound solution.

"He is super-hot," Racheal had told Pam on the phone just hours before. Pam had started to make cookies right then as an excuse to meet the new neighbor, and luckily her mother, Carrie, had left earlier that day for the weekend. Pam's aunt was sick, suffering from an as-yet unexplained sore throat and debilitating migraines, and asked her mother to assist her with daily needs and help look after her brother-in-law, Rex. Pam's uncle was useless in the kitchen, and the two sisters knew better than leave anything house-related to him. Her mother's trip might last the weekend or a week as the doctor had yet to diagnose what Aunt Cheryl had. The illness was scary but had been perfect timing for Pam's plan. Pam's mother smothered her a bit.

Carrie Gane was even more stand-offish and frugal than Pam and would have nixed the expenditure of the few dollars' worth of ingredients to make the cookies. Things had been tight since her father, Floyd Gane, had left her mother, but of course, Pam knew it would only be an excuse to control her. Pamela's job was rewarding but not very lucrative, though things were better with another income. After struggling for years to raise a kid alone, Pam's mother still lived in fear about finances, but Pam was too lonely to be concerned with money.

Martin Sayer lived in an RV until the renovations were complete. He was selling the small used class C RV after finishing the house. Martin's grown son Randall had helped with the construction but had left the day before to return to his life and family in CA. Martin had sold his modest yet overpriced Hayward tract home and used the money for a sizeable down payment. His new mortgage was a fraction of his California monthly obligation. Martin had picked the ten-acre wooded lot for the seclusion. After living in crowded California, he wanted a quiet place. Not able to ditch his city roots, Martin had segmented a piece of the property adjacent to the house as a fenced-in privacy yard, like those in California suburbs. This piece, "the yard," comforted him because the thought of the entire property overwhelmed him. This 'yard' is now newly renovated, including adding a pool. "You can take the man out of California, but you cannot take California out of the man." He had only just moved in a day earlier, moving his belongings from the barn where he had temporarily stored them to the house.

It was the early afternoon of a hot late summer day, and the humidity was rising with the temperature. Pam had reached the freshly painted farmhouse; the old place had never looked better. Pam could see a sizeable new addition to the formerly small structure. As Pam walked up to the now impressive home heard splashing noises coming from the backyard. The hot southern sun blazed down as Pam walked up to the black wrought iron side gate.

"Hello, is anyone home?" No answer.

Pam, a librarian, regionally considered the local spinster; the small rural town had very backward ideas. Honestly, who calls someone a spinster these days, but change comes slowly in the mid-south. In truth, she was as lovely as intelligent, and only thirty-six years old, and never married. Still a virgin, other than her vibrator, which Pam was cautious to hide from her mother's sure disapproval. Just how she remained a virgin as attractive as she was, seemed miraculous. Pam was awkward around the opposite sex, but men had tried to woo her, but her mother was very possessive of her daughter.

Pam clandestinely pleasured herself with the small chrome cylindrical device while reading female-led pornographic fiction. The female characters in the stories were so different from how she behaved she felt drawn to them. Pam seldom had kissed, let alone dominated men, but those plots stuck in her mind like sweet honey. She relived the fictional scenes in her head, substituting herself for the strong female characters. Pam always possessed a healthy sex drive, but recently, Pamela Elaine became insatiable. Her mother had almost caught her when she let out an audible moan while masturbating the week before.

Pam resented her mother for the sad reality that her overprotective and bitter mother chased off the few suitors that had an interest in Pam, just as she had driven off Pam's father. No one had shown interest in over five years, but Pam had resolved to be more assertive this time. So even though there was no reply, she steeled her courage and went through the unlocked ornate side gate. Martin swam in the long narrow lap pool; It resembled a 'Q' tip having a long narrow end opening into a large oval. An artificial waterfall flowed into the oval poolside, and Pam could hear the soothing sound of rushing water. The pool was seventy-five feet long, perfect for laps. Pam walked up to it, offering the plate of cookies. Fixating on his muscular form, Pam soon realized that Martin was skinny dipping as she stood next to his disheveled swim trunks on the pool deck. Martin, whose ears were under the surface, did four laps before noticing Pamela standing there. Each twenty-five-yard lap ends with a flip-turn as Pam sees all his tall, lean, sun-tanned body. Martin finally saw Pam and shyly swam quickly to the pool's edge.

"I brought you cookies; I am your neighbor. My name is Pam," she said.

Martin blushed and pressed close to hide his nudity along the pool wall. Pam had so enjoyed the view of his taught butt as he swam; she grew week in the knees.

"Can you hand me my swim trunks?" Martin asked, looking at his floral print board shorts seven feet from the edge of the pool.

Pam hesitated, fully clothed, realizing how powerful she felt while attractive Martin was nude. Martin saw a Cheshire cat smile erupt on Pam's face and a playful glint in her eye. Looking closer at her lovely face, he noticed that she wore tastefully sexy make-up. Martin had a thing for well-applied cosmetics, but his late wife seldom had worn them. Pam usually did not wear cosmetics either but today was special; she wanted to impress Martin. Martin looked down her enticing long neck to her curvaceous lithe body encased in a wispy yellow and white sundress. Martin fell instantly smitten with his attractive neighbor.

"No, come out and have a cookie," Pam teased.

Now unmistakably aroused by his predicament, Martin did not want Pam to see his erection. Martin did not understand his body betrayal; how even the chilly water placed no restraint on his lower appendage. No one had ever seen his hard-on other than his now-deceased wife. Martin had always been a modest man. He did not usually skinny-dip, but he remembers how great it felt, so today was an exception. He mistakenly had figured it was safe enough in this very rural setting. Martin's exposed circumstance felt incredibly embarrassing.

"Give me my shorts, please?" Martin begged, his eyes pleading with her as he spoke.

Pam liked her view of a naked man in the flesh for the first time in her life and was not about to let this opportunity pass so quickly. She picked up his trunks and twirled in her enticing sundress, naturally swaying as she walked away from the pool and sat at an umbrella-shaded nearby green patina bistro table. Martin could not help fixing his eyes on her ass as she walked away, only stiffening his problem. Pam formerly was a very skinny young woman but had filled out nicely after thirty. Now her backside was perfectly round, and her breasts were excellent. Pamela laid the swimmers on the table next to the plate of cookies.

Martin looked at the now farther away swim trunks lying fifteen feet from the pool. It seemed impossible to get that far without giving the sexy lady a show. Martin thought of running to grab his shorts, but the reticent nudist feared she would take them away before Martin could reach them. He decided that it would be better to wait and think a little longer.

"Don't be shy; come out and have a cookie," Pam entreated as she crossed her shapely legs, smiled coyly, and batted her eyes as she had seen in old movies.

Martin could see that Pam enjoyed his discomfort, which only aroused him further. He was slowly coming to terms with reality; he had to get out naked to get his shorts. He felt dread about his upcoming exposure and other feelings he hated even to entertain. Primal sexual feelings moral church-going men should not have.

"You will not leave until I get out? Will you?" Martin asked.

"No, I want to see your whole body," Pam said, blushing slightly.

"How long must I stay naked to satisfy you?" Martin asked, trying to hide how very much he wanted this.

"I won't say you must get out to see," Pam giggled.

Pam waited patiently. Though feeling bashful and horrifically distressed, Martin gave up and got out of the pool five minutes later. He tried to cover his privates with his hand. Pam quickly took his swimsuit and sat on it so Martin could not have it back. "I knew she would do this," Martin thought.

"Take your hand away and let me see, or no shorts," she said, giggling.

Martin uncovered his junk, embarrassed by his rigid state. He stood fearfully aroused as Pam stared at his hard circumcised penis. Martin felt intense excitement and wonderfully humiliated, nude in front of a sexy stranger.

"Are all men this big?" Pam wondered, staring at his over eight-inch prick. Pam felt gloriously empowered.

Martin's dripping body now gloriously exposed to Pam's inspection. Martin could see the loving hunger in Pam's eyes as she looked at his muscular form. Martin had kept himself fit by swimming, and that is why he had the exercise pool installed. Martin felt strangely thrilled by the experience but did not wish to admit it even to himself.

"Turn around slowly so I can see," Pam said.

As she watched, Martin turned slowly, shy but secretly pleased to show himself. His arousal did not relent, so she knew he was enjoying giving her a show. His feigned protest only increased her enjoyment.

"Wow, you have a nice ass. That was not so bad, was it," Pam said. This statement embarrassed Martin more, and he felt intense things that he could not fully process. A sense of illicit pleasure about which he suffered slight guilt. Martin always feared people somehow thinking less of him and knew they would for this behavioral trait, but still, it seemed a bizarre liberation of sorts. He felt liberated from his typically staunch mindset.

"No, I mean yes, I don't know," Martin said confusedly.

"You like it. Sit down and have a cookie, but do not cover that lovely cock of yours. I love seeing it hard like that," Pam ordered.

"Yeah," Martin said. He did not want to admit how well he liked it. In truth, he felt faint with the surge of raw excitement.

"My name is Pam; I live in the next house down the road with my mother,"

Martin looked at the beautiful five-foot-four brunette woman. She was even prettier than his wife had been and far shapelier. Her exquisitely creamy cleavage touched in the center of her chest, exposed by the neck of the spaghetti-strapped sundress. Her curly hair framed her lovely regal face flawlessly. Her expression seemed kind but resolved as if she had drawn a line in the sand for herself. She looked like a queen determined to do the state's business, confident and composed but effortlessly cordial. Yet there seemed to be a loving twinkle in her eye that said much more than her expression. Her eyes were a window to a core of goodness; Martin felt drawn deep into them.

Martin could not believe how unforeseen the day's events were becoming. He thought it would be a dreadful day when he got up that morning. Another empty chore-filled day, without any joy, just as they had been since the funeral. No way he saw anything like this happening, especially to him; he was a quiet, considerate man who had led a reserved life. Mundane was his usual normal. Martin was strong. He endured everything in stride; he even managed his wife's passing well, but only for the sake of his children, who had utterly lost it during the ordeal. Only while alone had he showed his genuine emotions, and then never for long, just a few tears before bearing up for the world once more.

"My name is Martin, I am a widower, my two children are grown, and I live alone,"

"You sure are sexy, Martin," Pamela gushed. Martin was five-foot-eleven and in excellent shape.

"Thank you, you are sexy, also." His eyes were staring at her ample chest, which did not escape her notice. Men around here had stopped looking at Pam like this, and she found the attention very flattering. She had just blended into the background with local men. She could feel her hard nipples straining to burst through her strapless bra and sundress. Martin licked his lips primarily due to nervousness, but Pam considered it a compliment. Pam could feel the beginning moisture of arousal percolating in her sex.

"You are the sexiest man I have ever seen naked," Pamela said. "But truthfully, you are the first man I have ever seen naked." She admitted quietly to herself.

"You have never kept a man naked before?" Martin asked jokingly.

"No, but I quite enjoy it," Pamela retorted, giggling.

"You are a fast learner," Martin replied.

Martin tasted the still-warm chocolate chip cookie.

"These are fantastic," he said.

"Thank you; I baked them just for you."

"How wonderful, I feel honored," Martin said.

"Has a woman ever kept you naked like this before," Pam asked?

"No, I feel defenseless, but I cannot complain; I like it," Martin admitted the last part quietly under his breath before looking away sheepishly. His wet, full head of slightly greying brown hair covered one blue-grey eye of his handsome face as he looked down at the natural stone pool deck. His tan face was ruggedly handsome. His lean muscular swimmer's body had little hair. His cock looked perfect to Pam; It was long and circumcised. Pam had seen pictures of uncircumcised men and preferred the look of no foreskin. Fluid was dripping from the end with arousal.

Pam had fantasized about her first man forever, but she mostly dreamed of the prince charming scenario. She had recently begun to think differently; if a man came around, she had to take what she wanted. She had lived her life on the sidelines far too long.

"I love the feeling of power I feel keeping you so exposed and vulnerable. It is intoxicating," Pam admitted.

Martin had been lonely since his wife's passing. Martin and his wife had married at eighteen and had their son the first child at nineteen. Martin had been married longer than he had been single. Though their sex life had become infrequent in the last years of the relationship, they still did have some sex. Martin had watched porn guiltily since Jeanette's death, but that was different from having a real relationship. Martin recently stumbled upon exciting clothed female nude male videos, and now he was living one. Martin wished to have genuinely repented for letting his eyes slip again by viewing porn, but the recent widower had only let out a half-hearted apologetic prayer. Now he realized temptation had come through the door he left open. Martin struggled to be sorry for his actions, though he knew he should be. His loneliness quickly trumped his guilt.

Martin took a bite of another sinfully good cookie, and she took a bite of a cookie as well. Martin watched her chew, loving the way her full lips opened to accept the cookie with each bite. Everything she did seemed sensual to Martin. The curve of her neck fascinated him, and the rest of her body set him afire. Pam seemed a sexy siren to Martin, and he felt drawn to her danger be damned.

"We need some milk to go with these," Pam said.

Martin enjoyed the sound of her rich, smooth feminine voice. It was much sultrier than that of his late wife's.

"I have some in the kitchen," Martin said.

Martin looked at Pam longingly. His eyes reminded Pam of how her puppy looked at her, a look of unquestioned adoration. Pam felt accepted, for the first time with a man, ever.

"Let us go into the kitchen and get some," Martin said.

Pam stood up as Martin did. He looked at his trunks as he stood up.

"No, I want you to stay nude. I know you are enjoying it as well. Is it fun being naked for me?'

"Yes, er no, I mean I love it," Martin said, wishing he held to the lie. The truth was embarrassing and confusing. Martin's eyes still confirm his heartfelt feelings. Pam could read him like a book and saw his loving response to her. She somehow knew she could claim him, and he would give himself to her.

"Good, now that we have that settled. Lead me to your kitchen. I want to watch your sexy bottom,"

Pam thought she saw Martin's cock twitch noticeably as she finished her compliment. "He is an exhibitionist and possibly slightly submissive; how wonderful," Pam thought.

"Alright, this way," Martin said as he opened and walked through the French door. He dripped water on the wood look ceramic tile as he headed to get the milk.

Pam watched his tight ass as he carried the plastic wrap-covered plate of cookies and walked into the house. She suddenly had the urge to spank him, wanting to know what his buttocks would look like with her red handprints on them. Reaching the island counter, he set the plate of cookies down before he entered the kitchen. Still fixating on Martin's ass, Pam had never thought such naughty things while with a man before. Something had ignited a dominant gene in her. Pam seemed to respond to his unspoken submissive vibe.