Silk Scarf Ch. 5

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You hate Saturdays, until this one...
3.9k words
3.98
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Part 5 of the 7 part series

Updated 10/14/2022
Created 11/23/2001
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Datadr
Datadr
6 Followers

You hate Saturdays, always alone while Tim puts in the extra time he feels necessary to promote his career. Luckily you have learned to sleep late, letting half the day pass before awakening. Add to that the long hot bath, which you enjoy so much. Time spent preparing to meet the day, selecting the right look. It's usually after two before you leave the house. Seems like the errands grow every week. Cleaners, groceries, birthday presents, all roll into a long day fighting traffic out by the mall.

Still you do enjoy the shopping more now. Seeking out the finer lingerie departments, and the specialty shops. Everywhere you look now, you see outlets that before had gone unnoticed. Wisps of fabric clinging to anorexic mannequins placed with out regard to passersby, everywhere in the mall. Still they did prompt ideas in your new mind. Ideas that included play for a change. Ok, sexual play but at least play. Well almost.

It's been several weeks, and despite your manipulation you have been unable to elicit a response from Tim. Every night lying so close to that, which you desire so strongly, had left you almost empty inside. Even his gentle breathing in slumber irritates you. You two have talked less and less. You feel the doors of communication closing, perhaps for good. Still the love is there, but that is not enough.

"Ma'a" the sales girl startles you, "the gentleman asked me to pass this to you."

Another note the same as before. "Where, which one" you query, searching out the small shop.

You can tell from her perplexed look as she too scans the now empty shop.

"Well he was here just a second ago."

You turn to leave, to try to chase him down, and spy a single red rose wrapped in a very light blue pair of thong back panties setting on the counter.

Making your way out of the store you search both ways in the mall. No one looking back everyone normal, no one is moving swiftly away.

Back to the counter, you touch the rose and the panties. A smile crosses your lips. Purchasing them right then and there, you leave with the small bag, panties and the note tucked inside. A single red rose carried proudly before you, as if saying, see I am loved. Quickly you move to your parked car buried deep in the bowels of the mall. Heels clicking loudly as you rush over the concrete. Hand trembling as you try to get the key into the lock. Fumbling the door finally gives way. Collapsing into the seat you tear at the note. Eyes devouring every word on the page, as if it were your last meal.

Heart racing, you tell yourself you cannot comply. Yet deep within you know that you will. Already you are figuring out how to make it all happen. The way to get out alone, the excuses necessary. The embarrassment of going into that kind of store alone. All this floods over you, you reject it, and then sigh. You will comply. But tonight?

You race through town, completing the rest of your errands. Here and there the traffic always slowing you down. Finally home you carry in the groceries, go back for the cleaning, and the small bag, the rose, and the note. Now finally everything is put away. You find yourself sitting on the edge of the bed, re-reading the note. Can you do this? You check your watch, if you really hurry you can make it. Ok, the time is good, but can you actually do it.

You hustle into the shower, still not sure, but you are going to try. Quick shower, not much time for playing around. A grab at the razor, praying for no nicks or cuts, those hurt. The lather spread slowly. The blade against sensitive skin. This is so erotic.

The short hair filling the blade. Another few draws with the razor, and again smooth and clean. A quick rinse, and the same to both legs. Lucky this time, no injuries. You smile to yourself thinking back to high school, and all the nicks that you carried while learning to groom. You have become very proficient now, and the time necessary to get your legs smooth and soft is only a couple of moments. And even less for the more private areas, but a little extra time can be nice too.

The smooth silk of the panties moving over your newly shaven legs sends shivers through your body. Cheeks separated slightly to allow the thin band to rest itself against that most sensitive flesh. Quick trip to the mirror, a brush, and very little makeup. Heading down the stairs, you reach into the hall closet and extract the short thin beige coat with the belt. Standing before the hall mirror you watch in awe of yourself as the coat closes over nothing but the very thin light blue panties. The coat feels cool on the rest of your naked body.

Keys locking the door, and purse over your shoulder, you glance at your watch. Hoping the traffic is light, or there is no way you will make it. Naked body shivering in the cold coat, bare flesh felt against the cold car seat. A quick look around, the car into reverse, and out onto the tree-lined street in front of your house. Mind racing, for some unexplained reason you remember the first time you saw this avenue, and fell in love with the neighborhood.

You and Tim had been married almost a year. You were both growing tired of the little apartment that you had shared since marriage. Really it was Tim's "bachelor pad," but you had agreed to moving in there after your honeymoon, rather than looking for a new place right away. The space finally became too cramped, and you both agreed to look for another place. Strange though, Tim never seemed to have the time, and you had to do all the looking. Finally after six months you found the perfect home. One that you have lived in ever since. You are comfortable there. It feels like home.

One more right turn, and there it is. A large building almost blue in color with a flashing "adult" sign in front. This is one place you had never been to before. You caught yourself looking around the parking lot, checking to see if you recognized any of the cars. Or maybe worrying about your safety. The feel of the cold leather against your bare skin reminds you with a sudden start of how your dressed for this strange evening. Door open, legs pressed together, both moving as one, as you turn to step out of the little car. So far so good, nobody around, and no flashing on your part.

The heels a little wobbly as you move up the short flight of three stairs. You hands holding the long coat closed over your upper thighs. The cool evening breeze moving across your bare legs. "If nudity offends you" "adults only" signs blasts your senses. The words tacky and creepy come to mind as you reach for the handle.

You jump back as the door explodes open toward you. A stifled scream barely passes your lips. You stand in awe as perhaps the biggest man you have ever seen blocks out the doorway light and moves past you. A knowing smile, a curt nod, a whispered howdy "mam," as he moves to the side holding the door for you.

Video jackets everywhere, magazines piled on top of piles. Toys, dildos, vibrators, even handcuffs hanging on the walls. You move down one crowded aisle after another senses assailed by the various positions and contraptions, all captured on film. Looks range from boredom to ecstasy, captured on the faces on the actors. There are only a few people in the aisles besides you. At first you feel as though you are on display here, then you realize that each person is trying to ignore the other. Everyone there wants to be there, yet desire privacy and anonymity. Moving past a smallish man, thick glasses, and a runny nose, you make your way to the front counter.

The till is managed by a man with longish blonde hair good looking of sorts, but barely old enough to even be in the store. You approach as the note said, and announce slightly, "I'm Stacey."

The young man looks at you, "so" he queries?

"I was told to check at the counter," you reply, the heat rising in your cheeks.

"Oh, its you, thought you would have been here already" he stated while reaching down behind the counter.

The bag was fairly large. It appeared to weigh several pounds, and was confirmed when passed to you. "Room 9, around the corner," he pointed. You followed his directions and moved off down the hall. Room 1, then two, some with green lights above some red, 6, 7,8, 9, last one.

The knob doesn't even turn, a slight push and the door opens. The light coming on as the door swing approaches half way. Thank God it's not too bright. Just enough to light the worn brown love seat, a large TV across from the love seat, a control box on a small table. A waste basket a box of tissue, and one dim lamp. The door slams shut startling you. Your heart racing you reach for the lamp, the one weak bulb barely lights your hand turning the switch. You glance around and find the dead bolt on the door. Turning it, a reassuring click, and the light through the top of the door turns red.

Looking around again you realize that the little space is even tackier than you first realized. Stuffing coming out of several small holes in the loveseat. Table chipped badly on almost all corners. Carpet, what there is of it, seems to move of its own accord. Still the television looks fairly new, and the small control box on the table is definitely high tech.

Moving to the little sofa, you tuck the coat firmly under you as you sit on the very edge. Your skin crawls at the thought of contact with the stiff fabric. Legs clenched tightly together, heels touching you perch there, examining the large plastic bag. You reach out to open it, and a light knock comes from the door. Knock knock.. You hesitate, confused, then it returns, knock knock, softly.

Nervous, a little scared, you move to the dead bolt, the knob cold to the touch. Clutching it, you jump as the knock returns. Click, the bolt releases. Easing the door open, slowly, peeking past the edge, ladies shoes.

Black high heels, not to high, but enough to accent the shape of the perfect calves. Eyes moving up past the knee to the hem of the short black evening dress. Slowly upward your eyes drift. The contours of that before you perfect. Long black hair, covering partly bare shoulders. Deep tan, long thin neck. Oval face, almond eyes, beautiful smile. Gorgeous lady. Asian, at least partly.

You look into each others eyes, you questioning, and embarrassed, she confident, relaxed, knowing. The smile moving through her face, "I need to come in," lilted off her tongue as the long gloved hand reached around the door casing. Sliding past you with little effort, the next thing you realize, is the clicking of the deadbolt, and the light overhead going red.

Starting to speak, her finger moving to your lips in a silencing gesture. The warmth of the touch passing from the gloved hand. Tender and electric, the caress, as you look into her eyes. Body shivering from the moment, you remain silent.

Stepping back from you, to the side of the large television. You look closely at this beautiful creature. Head to toe, perfect. All your life you have wished to be able to look like that. Fingers sliding into the top of the glove, a long blue silk scarf retrieved. Floating, it lands on the table top in front of you. You know whom it is from, but do not yet understand what it means.

The large bag rustling, as she reaches inside. Videotape, no cover, inserted into the player. Her loveliness echoed on the screen. Dressed as before you now, you watch as she moves about the screen. Thin spaghetti straps moving off of small tanned shoulders, both on screen and before you. Her moves mirror the video. She can't be more than twenty. But she is so beautiful. Yet you are not gay or even bi. Even so you find this moment extremely erotic. Arms moving from the straps, music heard from the television. Her hips swaying in a seductive dance, you sit and watch mesmerized.

Dress riding up, exposing firm tanned thighs. You sit perched on the edge of the loveseat. Coat feeling warm in the heat of the room. Black satin bra exposed as the dress moves down. As in the video, nothing left to hold it up, it flutters to the floor, puddling at her feet. Still the body swaying, her gloved hands moving over her curves. You can just detect her nipples through the fabric, straining.

Your breathing coming faster, you can feel your heart beating, pace quickening. How can this be happening to you. You have never been interested in anything like this. Bra, panties, heels and gloves. All black, all satin. Her hands to the front clasp. The release. Her back arched, body thrusting toward you, the bra joins the dress. Hands covering no more, you stair unabashedly at the perfection. Full, firm, small tight swollen nipples. Her gloved hands moving over the swollen buds. Two fingers twisting. Your body awakening, a fire growing, you do not understand, but cannot ignore.

Tan lines dark, meeting light. Flesh tight, muscles moving, the dance continues. Your legs parting, moisture felt, heat coursing through you. Your eyes locked on her movements. Your eyes following her hands. Her hands moving to her neck. Hair brushed back, your eyes meet. You cannot look away, yet, her hands moving down. A knowing look from her as you give in and follow the movement. Gloved fingers under the thin band. Panties moving lower again light meets dark, her gloved hand covering the center of her. Panties falling to the floor. Television moving to the same tempo. She points to the television, and your attention is riveted. She stands still beside the set, as you watch.

On the screen, she has taken a chair. Sitting, hands moving over her own body, a long thin vibrator appears. No sound save for the light music from the set. Shinny pink plastic, moves over her. She standing beside the television, watching you as you watch her performance. Plastic moving across her lips, tongue wetting the tip, no, loving the tip. Hand on breast holding the weight, gently caressing as vibrator, reaches the nipple. Her head back now in pleasure. Vibrator moves lower. A rustle of the bag, and pulling yourself away from the vision produced by the set, you notice that she has the same tool in her covered hand. A sly smile crosses her lips, as she again points you back to the TV.

Legs opening slowly, vibe moving across that which at one time had been covered. Now smooth. Completely bare, not a trace, looking so young, so beautiful. You gaze at the set, devouring the visions, as her legs part with desire for the moment. Her hips move forward, sitting on the edge of the chair, staring straight at you, as the vibrator moves between her legs. The shot is so close that you can see the moisture forming on the outside of her, the swollen evidence of arousal. The pink instrument glistening with her dampness as it travels over her. Legs open further, vibrator moving more boldly, you glance over to her, in real life, she is standing, holding a match for the toy, watching you.

The change in the music on the set draws you back. The toy moving against her swollen clit, the pleasure evident. Lower the toy moves, inserted slowly. Your body moving against the feeling. You legs opening to accept. Your heat growing. Nipples enlarged, pressing against the rough fabric of the coat. You look back to the beauty standing before you. Pink toy at her lips, tongue moving over it. Music louder, her climax evident on the set, toy almost disappeared. The set grows dim, the sound fades.

She moves back to the center of the room, reaches down to the table top. Lifting the scarf, holding it out to you. Can you take it, can you not take it? You have never felt like this before. All so forbidden, yet so demanding. Head swirling, hands trembling. She moves closer, you detect her scent in the air, feel the heat from her unclothed body. You accept the scarf.

The last vision you have is of her smiling, toy buzzing, as she draws it across her own swollen tight nipple. Her thigh brushes against your own as she reaches behind you to make the knot firm. The soft silky graze sending shivers through your own body.

Darkness, silence. Time passing, you sit, wait, you feel her presence in the room and that is all. How long, doesn't matter. You are here, and have chosen to stay. Your entire being focused on this moment. Your desire evident, heart racing, you feel a gloved hand, then another on your thighs. Legs parted, you taste your own fragrance in the air. Embarrassed that you have felt this way in front of a woman, a beautiful sexy woman. The distance between your hot thighs increased, the pressure stronger. Hand on your shoulder, tilting you back on the loveseat. Your hands at your side, the belt of the coat falling away, buttons unclosed, folds of fabric opening, a coolness over your exposed flesh. You sit open before this beautiful woman. Need obvious by the wetness displayed in the thin silk of the panties. Body flushed with desire, nipples hard, aroused maybe more than ever. Is this what you have longed for, another woman. You have never felt desire like this.

Pulled forward by gloved hands, so the coat may slide off bare shoulders. Leaning back, resting, breathing rapidly. Eyes covered, you know what she sees, you want this, but are in fear of the changes coursing through you. You could leave now, just stand and go. A tongue, rough, yet smooth, wet, moves lightly over your nipple. A quick suck of air at the contact, it feels so exquisite. You surrender. Whatever, wherever this goes you cannot turn away. Head lolling to one side, the breath escapes you as your surrender is completed by the full covering of your nipple and the gentle suckle.

Gloved hands moving over your body, touch soft, smooth. Caressing every exposed, bare inch of you. Like electricity moving over you small shocks at each halt of movement. Your hips moving on their own, inch further out over the edge of the loveseat. Legs brazenly open, gloved hands moving over your lower abdomen. Tongue moving over the opposite nipple, mouth taking it all. The draw harder. Your hips rising from the couch. Desire totally encompassing you. Your orgasm close. Gloved hand moving over the fabric between your legs. Body thrusting against the touch, the touch firmer, covering all that is you at this moment. The pressure enough. A long low groan, the panties wetter, your body quaking, your fingers digging into the dingy covering on the sofa. Hips driving against the touch of the gloved hand. Is it the climax, or those first moments afterwards, the beginning of the recovery that is so wonderful.

The room quiet again, her location unknown. Sitting there you feel your body, relaxing. Then you realize the sight you must be. All sprawled out like that. Your fingers close around the edges of the coat, moving to cover your exposure. As the coat comes off the couch, gloved hands stop you. Your arms are placed again at your side. The roaming on you begins again. Covered hands on your hips. Silky fingers in the waist band of the moist thin silk covering you. Can you let her see that which you prepared for a man just a short while ago?

Fingers, tugging gently at the waist band. Not wanting this you try to resist, but your body, and its need overcomes you. Hips rising slightly, you feel the panties moving down your thighs, over your bare knees and then the damp fabric at your ankles. Each ankle lifted one at a time. Panties over each high heel in turn. Gloved hand at your knees, slowly spreading them. Soft kisses on the inside of each thigh. Slowly moving upward. Trails made by the tender touch of her tongue.

Her still gloved hands moving over your breasts, tweaking the nipples, your desire flooding through you again. Kisses moving higher, tweaking firmer. Your legs open wantonly. Begging for more of that which you just received. Never have you recovered so quickly, never has the need grown so rapidly. Am I truly gay you wonder? Am I a lesbian?

Soft lips moving at the crease between lip and leg. Entire breast covered by a gloved hand and pressure increased. Tongue on the outer fold, hot and wet. Moving slowly, taking all of you. Near the top, a hesitation. Over to the opposite, tongue, moving again. The sensation almost more than you can stand. Hips moving against the caress, broadcasting your desire. Touch now gone, your need unsatisfied. Your hands lifted by the gloves. Fingers caressed, and stroked by her tongue. Wetness covers them. The toy pressed into your palm. The buzzing started. Hands guided to that which is in such need.

Datadr
Datadr
6 Followers
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