The Silver Anklet Ch. 01

Hi. My name is Lucy Ryan and I want to tell you about my crazy adventures last summer. I still can't believe what transpired over those six weeks but I somehow changed from being a loving, dutiful wife into a sex-hungry, submissive slut.

First, let me tell you a bit about myself. I am 24 years old and have been married to my darling husband, Michael, for two years. We had been childhood sweethearts since going to the same local senior school in a small town in southern England. Michael is tall and dark, with rugged good looks and ever since I've known him he has had girls chasing after him. However, I can honestly say he has only ever been interested in me since we met as eleven year olds and he seems to be totally immune from the attentions of other girls.

I was always regarded as one of the prettiest girls in school so everyone thought it natural that Michael and I would get together. Although I am not very tall, at five feet two inches, I have a good figure, which I keep in shape through regular dance classes. I have slender legs, long, wavy blonde hair, blue eyes, and a good complexion with skin that is a light honey colour that turns golden with exposure to the sun. However, the features I am most proud of, and which drives Michael wild, are my breasts. They are not particularly large, but have a nice shape with very prominent, protruding areolae that I have recently discovered are sometimes referred to as 'puffies'. In addition to that, my nipples are quite long, especially when erect and I have to be careful what I wear as they are quite noticeable if I wear anything tight or go without a bra.

Michael and I seemed to get on well with each other right from the first time we met and we quickly fell in love. We really never thought about dating anyone else, even when we went to different universities, and always talked about getting married at the earliest possible opportunity, which we did as soon as we had completed our studies.

Since then we have been extremely happy together and Michael is a loving, caring and attentive husband. Our sex life has been good, with Michael being a gentle and thoughtful lover. If he has one fault then it is that he is not very demonstrative and it usually tends to be me that makes the first move and takes the initiative in our lovemaking. I sometimes wish that he would be more forceful with me but I realise that, compared to a lot of women, I am very lucky to have such a tender and loving spouse.

Michael has made very good progress in his job with a large pharmaceutical company, and has quickly risen through the ranks, and we have been able to buy a lovely house in a small village about 10 miles away from the town where I was raised and went to school. The company he works for has its headquarters in Germany and he has to go over there, and to other European countries, quite frequently on business. I am therefore on my own at home quite a bit, especially as I am a primary school teacher in the local village school and have longer holidays than most people.

I was really looking forward to last summer's school break as Michael had promised that he would take two weeks leave so we could go away together somewhere warm. However, a few days before the end of term, at the end of July, Michael announced that he had been asked to travel to France to introduce a newly-developed product and set up a new marketing strategy at the company's France office just outside Paris for a period of two weeks. This had arisen because a colleague who was scheduled to go had become ill. Although I was disappointed, I agreed with Michael that this represented a great opportunity for him to become even more well-regarded by his bosses.

So, on the first day of my summer break from school, I found myself at a loose end. As it was a lovely, sunny day, I was just wondering what to do with myself, when I received a telephone call from my widowed mother.

'Hi honey, what are you up to today?' she enquired.

'Oh, hi mum. I was just wondering that myself. I think I'll do some gardening and then read a book in the garden and catch up with my tan as it's such a lovely day,' I replied.

'Well, I thought as Michael was away you might like to come over for dinner later. I've invited Uncle Ron over too as I know he hasn't seen you for a while and he'll want to catch up with all your news.'

My heart sank as I heard my mother saying this because I have always been rather intimidated by Uncle Ron. He is not my real uncle, just a neighbour who lives a few doors away from my mother, but he has been friends with her (and my father when he was alive) for as long as I can remember. He is a large bull of a man, now well in his sixties, standing well over six feet tall. As a child I had always been rather frightened of him with his hairy body, tattooed arms, fat belly and extrovert nature. As I grew older and went to senior school I started to realise that he was also a bit of a sleaze ball. Whenever I met him in the street or walked past his house when he was in his front garden he always seemed to look me up and down and make inappropriate comments about my appearance or the way I was dressed. I have to admit, however, I tended to tease him. If I saw him in the distance on my way to or from school I would always make sure my already short skirt was tugged up at the waist to make it look even shorter. I really don't know why I did this but it gave me a funny feeling inside and I would find myself becoming wet 'down below' at the thought of him looking at me lustfully and wondering what he was thinking.

'I don't think so, mum. You know how I feel about Uncle Ron. He's always so rude to me,' I responded.

'Nonsense darling, he's a very nice man and he's only having a bit of fun. You shouldn't be so sensitive. Besides, you know he has been very helpful to me since your father died, with all the house repairs. And he said he is really looking forward to seeing you. Please come -- I haven't seen you for ages either.'

'OK, OK, I give in.'

'Great! I'll see you at 7.30 then. Don't be late.'

I decided to get a couple of hours sunbathing time in the garden and then took a long, hot bath before getting ready to go out. In spite of myself, I decided to apply my make-up carefully and make sure I dressed a little sexily. I now realise now that I did this in order to see whether I still had the same effect on Uncle Ron and what his reaction would be when he saw me. I also wanted to see whether my own, somewhat kinky, thoughts and feelings would be the same if he ogled me or made suggestive comments to me like he used to.

I painted my fingernails and toenails a lovely bright pink and applied lipstick in the same shade. As it was warm outside I decided to wear just a simple short, pleated pink skirt, white cotton shirt and sandals. On a whim, I decided not to wear a bra, which I often do in the summer as I like the feeling of freedom it gives me and my breasts are firm enough to prevent me looking too slutty. Also, to be perfectly honest, I did this for Uncle Ron's benefit just to see if he would notice my nipples protruding through the material and to see what his reaction would be. Although he is old and sleazy, there was something within me that made me quite like the idea of teasing him. I almost decided not to wear any panties either, but I thought that was going a bit too far, so I wore a tiny white lacy G-string.

I drove the short distance to my mother's with a curious mixture of dread and a strange kind of sexy anticipation and arrived just before 7.30. My mother greeted me enthusiastically at the door.

'Hi honey! You look lovely. Uncle Ron is already here, come on in.'

My mother grabbed my arm and led me through to the lounge, where I was greeted by Uncle Ron. He was wearing a T-shirt, shorts and flip-flops. He seemed to have put on even more weight since the last time I had seen him and his belly stretched the thin cotton of his T-shirt and protruded over the top of his shorts. When he saw me he immediately grinned, rushed over to give me a hug. I backed away, but he was too strong for me and held me in a vice-like grip.

'Hello, Uncle Ron. How are you?' I said, struggling free.

'I'm great thanks. All the better for seeing you young Lucy!'

'Dinner is ready, why don't you both sit down at the table and get re-acquainted. I'm sure you've both got a lot to catch up with,' said my mother ushering us into the dining-room.

Uncle Ron grabbed me around the waist and led me into dinner. Mum sat at the end of the table and Uncle Ron sat opposite me. She then went into the kitchen to serve up. Uncle Ron stared across at me.

'Lucy, I must say you look really lovely. How's that husband of yours treating you? I gather he is away a lot of the time.'

'Yes, that's right. He's doing really well in his job but he's often away. In fact he's away now for two weeks at the firm's office in France.'

'I know, your mother told me. He must be mad leaving you all alone. Doesn't he get worried wondering what you might get up to?'

I felt myself blushing and tried to compose myself.

'No, no. He's fine. He's not the jealous type. He trusts me completely.'

'More fool him then. That's what I say,' replied Uncle Ron smiling. Just then my mother appeared with the dinner dishes.

'Are you talking about the lovely Michael by any chance? He's such a good husband and he's really doing well in his job.'

Uncle Ron looked over at my mother. 'I was just saying that he must be mad leaving your Lucy on her own.'

'Well, he's got to make sure he keeps on the right side of his boss. It helps when senior jobs are up for grabs. I must say, however, he does tend to neglect things at home. Has he fixed that shelf yet Lucy?'

Mother was referring to a shelf that had collapsed in our bedroom several months ago that Michael hadn't got round to fixing yet.

'No, he's not had a chance yet mum, you know how busy he is,' I replied.

Uncle Ron looked over at me smiling. 'If you like, I'll come over and fix it for you Lucy. How about tomorrow? I know you're on holiday at the moment.'

.

'No, it's all right Uncle Ron. I'm sure Michael will get round to it soon.'

'Nonsense dear' said Mum 'Ron will have it fixed in no time. There's no point in bothering Michael about it.'

Before I could intervene, mother and Uncle Ron had arranged for him to call at my house the next day.

'10 o'clock OK Lucy?' said Uncle Ron.

'I suppose so...thanks Uncle Ron' I replied meekly.

During dinner, just as we had started eating, I suddenly felt something touching my leg under the table and realised to my surprise that it was Uncle Ron's bare foot which he must have slipped out of his flip-flop. I quickly moved my leg away but Uncle Ron moved his position slightly and touched my leg again. I could feel the coarse hair on the back of his foot as it slowly began to slide up and down my calf. Gradually his foot moved higher and touched the underside of my thigh just above the knee. I was transfixed. I knew I should have said something but part of me wanted him to continue and I didn't want to create a scene in front of my mother. Suddenly, I was shocked to feel moisture between my legs and I shifted my bottom uncomfortably in my seat. I'm sure my mother noticed as she suddenly said:

'Are you all right Lucy dear?' You look incredibly flushed.'

'No, I'm OK Mum, really. It's just the hot weather,' I replied quickly. I noticed Uncle Ron smirking at me from across the table as I said this.

'I'll just get you a cold glass of water,' said mother, and she got up and left the room.

Immediately Uncle Ron's foot moved further up my thigh and then moved between my legs. I gasped involuntarily as he suddenly pushed with his big toe.

'No don't, please Uncle Ron. Mum will be back any moment.'

No doubt encouraged by the fact that I hadn't moved his foot away or got up from the table, Uncle Ron said:

'You like that don't you young Lucy. Does your old Uncle Ron make you gasp with pleasure?'

'No, it's not right. Please stop,' I said quietly, trying to avoid eye contact with him.

'There's nothing to stop you just moving away. But you don't want to, do you? I think you like what old Uncle Ron's big old toe is doing.'

By this time his foot was moving rhythmically up and down my slit over the top of my little G-string and I could feel the wetness oozing out of me as he did so.

'Oh God,' I muttered, 'please stop Uncle Ron. This is crazy. I'm a married woman and I love my husband.'

Just then, mother appeared with my glass of water, although this did not deter Uncle Ron who continued to push into my covered slit with his toes. This continued throughout the meal but the sensations I was feeling prevented me putting a stop to Uncle Ron's antics. In fact at one stage I felt for Uncle Ron's foot under the table and pushed his foot harder between my legs, and I could see him smirking at me across the table. While this was happening I had great difficulty in making conversation with my mother and I muttered monosyllabically in answer to her questions whilst trying to prevent myself from gasping out loud.

'You really are not yourself tonight Lucy. I don't know what's the matter with you. It must be because Michael is away,' she said looking at me with concern.

While mother was clearing the dishes and had gone into the kitchen, Uncle Ron suddenly said:

'You're husband doesn't give you what you really want does he young Lucy?'

'I don't know what you mean...' I stammered.

'I think you know perfectly well what I mean. You need someone to take control of you. To dominate you.'

'No, no, that's not true....'

'I think it is. Otherwise why haven't you stopped me fucking you with my foot? I always knew you were a dirty little bitch. Don't think I don't know that you used to hitch up your school skirt when you saw me in the street so I could get a good look at those lovely legs,' leered Uncle Ron.

I couldn't answer because I knew it was true. I just loved the feeling of someone taking control over me sexually and me acting as the submissive. There was also something rather kinky and dirty about an old and unattractive man getting pleasure from my body and knowing that he was thinking that he couldn't believe his luck. In a way, this was totally opposite to my relationship with my husband as we were both always regarded as the perfect couple -- a handsome, successful young man and an attractive young woman. I could not answer Uncle Ron and looked down to avoid eye contact with him, which I think he took as my acceptance that what he was saying was true.

Obviously encouraged by my silence, I suddenly felt Uncle Ron's hand moving slowly up my thigh. I closed my eyes as I felt another spurt of moisture between my legs. His fingers crept up beneath my skirt and gently tugged my G-string to one side.

'Take them off and give them to me,' he ordered firmly.

'I mustn't...'

'Just do it, and make it quick before your mother comes back.'

My feelings were totally confused but my hands moved almost robotically under the table and slowly pulled the G-string down my thighs and past my knees. I let go and they dropped around my ankles, just as mother came into the room with coffee. She looked at me quizzically.

'Why are you wriggling, Lucy. You really are such a fidget. You always have been.'

'Sorry mum, I was just trying to get comfortable,' I replied quickly.

I managed to work my G-string off my feet and tried to cover them up in case Mum looked down. It was obvious that I was aroused as I could smell my sex juices and was sure that mother could also smell the familiar aroma as she suddenly wrinkled her nose and looked around the room. I quickly pulled a spray perfume out of my handbag and sprayed my neck in the hope that she would not ask any awkward questions. Luckily, she just shrugged and poured the coffee and I tried to act normally. Uncle Ron, however, sat there grinning broadly with a knowing look on his face and I could have strangled him.

After we had drunk our coffee, mother said:

'Why don't you two go in the lounge and have a chat while I get rid of these dirty cups and clear up?'

As she walked into the kitchen I quickly stooped down and grabbed my G-string without mother noticing and went into the lounge with Uncle Ron, and I quickly passed him the tiny piece of material.

'Thank you, I'll keep it as a memento,' he said, holding it up to his nose. 'Something tells me you enjoyed it in there, this is soaking,' he said as he stuffed my G-string into the pocket of his shorts.

Again, I couldn't answer him and just looked down in embarrassment. Uncle Ron was right though. I was feeling as horny as hell and sitting on mother's sofa without any knickers on made it worse. Although I love my husband dearly, being dominated by a man and being under his control was something I always fantasised about. I also suddenly remembered that most of my darkest fantasies involved being bossed about by older men, or very large, powerful men. I think it stems from the fact that my late father was a very strict disciplinarian. Although he had never struck me, or been violent towards me in any way, he was always a very dominant character and a person who I always was rather frightened of and who I obeyed without question. I also admitted to myself that I often thought about the lustful looks that Uncle Ron used to give me, and the suggestive comments he made to me when I was a teenager. These thoughts often entered my head when I was alone, which then led to a delicious masturbation session with me lying naked on the bed wanking myself off with my legs in the air, or standing naked in front of a full-length mirror while my hands worked their magic. A couple of times, while daydreaming, I have even stripped off in the kitchen and orgasmed by pushing myself hard against the vibrating washing machine. These sessions seemed to happen quite frequently recently because of Michael's absences from home and his pre-occupation with his work life.

'Come here slut,' commanded Uncle Ron crudely.

I looked over to where Uncle Ron was standing and my mouth gaped open as I saw a huge bulge sticking out of the front of his shorts. He must have seen my expression, because he suddenly said:

'Like what you see, eh? Well, you can see more tomorrow. But right now, I think you need sorting out yourself. Come here!' he instructed.

Despite myself, I got up and walked slowly towards him.

'That's right slut. You know you want to.'

Uncle Ron suddenly grabbed me and in one movement held me close to him and kissed me with his tongue forging its way into my mouth. At the same time his big hairy hand went up inside my skirt and I could feel one of his fingers pushing at the entrance of my pussy and I parted my legs slightly to allow him access. I gasped with pleasure as his finger pushed its way inside me. I started grinding my hips as two more fingers pushed into my dripping cunt. I came violently almost immediately and waves of exquisite pleasure pulsed through me as my orgasm took hold and seemed to go on for ever. Uncle Ron removed his fingers and my knees buckled beneath me as I tried, without success, to stifle a long moan of pleasure. I just about managed to stay upright and, just at that moment, my mother came in from the kitchen.

'Is there something wrong dear? I thought I heard you groaning.'

'No, it's all right mum,' I replied 'I've had a sore throat for a while and I was just clearing my throat.'

'OK dear. I hope it's not too serious. Now, Ron, what's it like seeing Lucy after all this time. I think it's been a couple of years since you last saw her.'

'Well Sally,' replied Uncle Ron, 'she really hasn't changed at all. She looks just as pretty as when I used to see her going to school.'