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Message-ID: <40037asstr$1040652604@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Spiller -" <spiller48@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Small town, small street. (Many different kinds)
Date: Mon, 23 Dec 2002 09:10:04 -0500
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This story is adult material, so stay off, if you shouldn't be
here.

Remember: Authors' only reward is your comment. So please take a
minute of your time to mail an opinion to: spiller48@hotmail.com

Small town, small street.

  By Spiller

CHAPTER ONE.

  If you are driving your car or riding by train you shall hardly
notice the small town, as you get closer. Only a few passengers
get off the train, and a negligible number of cars turn off the
motorway, while all the others continue their journey to
somewhere else. And you certainly shall not notice the small
street, which is hidden behind the few 3-story `high-rises',
which this little town can boast.

  Coming in from the seaside, through the long and narrow
`fjord', the small street is one of the first things you shall
notice, though, as this street is right on the waterfront, and
only one side of it occupied by houses. It is pretty but not
flashy, it is colourful without displaying the full circle of the
rainbow, and the houses are comfortably roomy, as they were all
the homes of two or three fishing families in poorer times. Today
they are restored and modernised, and they are all inhabited by
only one family. And the families? Well, people from other parts
of town would say that they are all very ordinary. Nothing
special about them. Civil servants, teachers, a few shopkeepers,
and only one fisherman, who owns the only remaining fishing boat
in town.

  But, you see, I lived in that street for nearly 15 years, and I
got to know my neighbours well. Probably better than any of them
would have guessed or wished for. When  my wife died I sold the
house and moved back to Copenhagen, and in the years to come I
would hear, now and then, the `highbrows and straight nosed' make
fun of `little boxes', `boring suburbia', `plastic people in
plastic houses', etc.  I always chose to keep my mouth shut, but
I couldn't help wondering: Our little street was far from
ordinary, it was far from boring, and nothing about the houses
and their inhabitants was plastic. So, what about all those other
streets in all those other towns, which are called boring,
suburban, bourgeois and plastic?  Well, I'll never know, I guess,
but I've decided to tell the stories of some of the houses in
Smallstreet, and maybe you can tell me, if your home-street is
that much different?

  How come I know so much, you may ask. Mainly for two reasons. I
am a small time writer/journalist, and as such I consider myself
pretty observant. And I do suffer from insomnia, often sending me
out for long walks through the nights.

But let us get started. If you stand in the town hall square,
which sounds pretty ambitious for our small administration
building, and you walk a couple of hundred yards slightly
downhill, towards the harbour, the last street on your left is
our Smallstreet. And the first house is number one.

Chapter two, number one.

  Number one is the only house in the street, which was never
inhabited by fishermen. It housed the production and
administration of a long forgotten local brewery, and in its
present day restored state it contained, until two years ago, the
offices and the living quarters of the town's most successful
lawyer. A highly respected man he was, and he had to be, or he
would not attract business. At the age of 42 he really looked
what he was, a successful provincial lawyer. Always well dressed,
about 12 kilos overweight, hair getting thinner, and always doing
the `right and proper' things. Member of the church council, free
mason, chairman of a couple of societies in the
`do-good-business.'

  "Hans P." as he was called in town, was married to Claire, a
rather well preserved lady of 40 years. They only got one son,
who had moved to Copenhagen to study law. Not much out of the
ordinary there, I should say. But you see, Hans P. had a secret
passion, or rather, he had a few. Claire's parents had moved to
Spain for the warmer climate, and every other month Claire would
fly down to visit them, usually for a week or two. Every night
she was away Hans P. would draw the curtains, get naked, put on a
heavy makeup, and dress in the sluttiest lingerie you could
imagine. And hours on end he would masturbate, while looking at
himself, dancing with himself, looking at pornographic pictures
or videos, or he would join chat-groups on the internet and
indulge in wild cybersex with likeminded men - and a few women.
And that was his second passion: Women. Small women, big women,
young women and old women, as long as they were horny,
uninhibited, promiscuous and kinky. All four qualities, which he
found out too late that Claire did not possess just a single one
of.

  He had enjoyed his share of whores, when a case would take him
to one of the central courts, and once he even visited a cross-
dressers' bar in Copenhagen. But only that once. Fortunately he
was made up beyond recognition, wearing a long, blonde wig and a
red silk dress, because at the height of the evening, while he
was dancing with a woman who liked cross dressers, his neighbour
walked into the bar with a couple of friends. They had gone
`slumming'. Hans P. got so scared that his cock immediately went
hard, and he spurted semen down his stockinclad legs. He was not
recognised, but the scare was so big that he never returned.

  Claire knew nothing about these escapades, mostly because she
was not at all interested in his sexuality. Her's was of another
inclination. On her trips to her parents she would visit a
lesbian SM-club in Barcelona and take part in wild orgies of
spanking, sucking, fucking and degradation. And at home she would
spend many a morning having cybersex with girls and women from
all over the world. Without being computer wizards any of them,
Hans P. and Claire had managed for years to hide their sex
activities in closed files on their computer. But one morning,
while Hans had gone to Haag for a week, to attend a case at the
Human Rights Court, their computer broke down, and Claire did not
have a clue what went wrong, so she went downstairs to talk to
Anna.

  Anna was a slim, slightly mousy woman around 40. She was
responsible for the computer systems of the offices, and Claire
asked for her help. Back upstairs Anna quickly diagnosed the
error, but out of curiosity she told Claire, that she would have
to copy their harddisk and then replace it, as the old one was
worn out and had become unstable. Three hours later Claire was
back on the net, and Anna had stashed the old harddisk in her
handbag, so she could take it home and see, what those two
`pillars of society' were up to. That Friday night in her home
she spent an hour installing the harddisk into an older computer
she never used, and fortunately the thing worked. A small program
compared original program files with the ones on the harddisk,
and soon she had a strange picture evolving. A whole bunch of
files with strange names turned up, most of them named to look
like parts of different programs, and all of them protected with
passwords. Even a simple hacker program took care of the
passwords, and what she saw inside the first couple of files that
she opened, made her blood pressure rise.

  "Well, I'll be.... That dirty old bugger," escaped her. With
glowing cheeks she got up from the computer, went to her kitchen
to make a pot of tea, then to her bedroom to get out of her
office clothes and into a comfortable housecoat, and then to her
bed stand to pick up a couple of trusty `playthings'. Now it was
Anna's turn to draw the curtains close and sit down by the
computer. It is about time to tell, that Anna never had much luck
concerning love or sex. Although she had a very pretty body, her
general appearance was not very flashy, and she always attracted
the wrong kind of men. Always the beginning of her relationships
was fine, but as soon as she opened up a little to reveal, that
inside this modest package lived a kinky, hot and most unusual
woman, her suitors would run away, screaming.

  The first two files had raised her blood pressure, but what
followed now was hour upon hour of wild stimulation, cybersex
orgies, revelations about her employer and a lot more. When Anna
got tired of masturbating with one hand and writing with only her
left, she got up from her chair for a short moment, only to
fasten her new butterfly vibrator to her clit, and then sit down
and continue. She was extremely stimulated by the crosdressers'
environment. Never would she have believed, that there were so
many perverted persons out there.  By ten o'clock she had had 4
orgasms, and her chair was soaked through. An Australian
transvestite told her to go and get a folded towel to sit on, and
then he brought her to new heights. He made her download a
camcorder program, and then he showed off for her, masturbated
for her, told her how he would lick her cunt and her asshole,
just for a beginning. With her butterfly humming slowly, she
abandoned all the inhibitions her former lovers had planted in
her, and she told her Australian friend to `force' her to make
use of his dog. She made him show her the beautiful silicone
breasts he had had for 3 years now, and for a long time Anna let
him make lesbian cyber-love to her, until close to midnight, when
she turned the butterfly up to full speed, and made him tell how
he would fuck her cunt while they had girl sex, using breasts,
hands and mouths. Her tenth orgasm, shortly after midnight, was
so strong that she fainted, falling off her chair. When she came
to, a little later, she felt utterly wicked, with the butterfly
still running full speed on her clit, her thighs and pussyhair
wet with her own juice, and `Cindy' still on the screen, asking
her what went wrong. Anna finished off the conversation,
promising `Cindy' that she would buy a cam Saturday morning, so
they could meet for real, or rather as real as you can get on the
internet.

  Anna went to have a shower and to make a fresh pot of tea, and
then she returned to her computer. This time she found some files
that Hans P. had saved, showing long conversations he had had in
different chat-groups. She also found files with hundreds of
pictures of women. At first she did not see any connection,
because they were all kinds of women, all sizes and colours, some
beautiful and some not so pretty, but finally she got the idea:
They were all dressed in extremely sexy and vulgar lingerie, and
they all gladly opened up to show their goods, some of them even
masturbating in the pictures, and some of them with captions,
written by their husbands or by the women themselves, telling how
horny and wicked and naughty they were. By now it was 4 in the
morning, and Anna was getting very tired, but a plan had formed
in her mind, fortunately, because now we can get on with our
story about the house in number 1.

  Saturday morning Anna woke up at nine, and half an hour later
she was in her car, rushing to a town 40 km away, to do some
shopping, that she definitely did not want to do in her own town.
She bought a cam, because she had no intention to drop the
internet, and then she bought a lot of very slutty lingerie and
some really heavy perfume, because she had decided to seduce Hans
P.

  In a sports shop she bought a tennis skirt. It could only be
had in white, but some home-dye would correct that, and the cut
of these skirts fitted her purpose excellently, showing off her
tummy as even flatter than it was, at the same time giving her a
chance to flash her panties whenever she wanted.

  Even though it is tempting to tell it all, I shall skip the
wild internet sex Anna had all that night and part of Sunday,
too. Her new cam was installed, and it certainly opened up areas
she had never contemplated.

  Monday morning Anna arrived at the offices in number one,
dressed like a new woman. A very short black skirt, a slinky
white silk blouse with no bra underneath, and a very discreet
make-up, which was a first for office use. She didn't want to be
very obvious on the first day of her new life, and she felt that
the slutty make-up she really wanted, would be too much. Hans P.
was home from Haag, and several times on that Monday Anna got the
chance to flash what she was hiding under the short skirt:
Pantyhose, covering a minute, white G-string.

  Shortly before lunch time Hans P. called Anna into his private
office. "I hear you helped my wife with the computer while I was
away. That was nice of you."

  "Thank you. Of course I'll always help. Her harddisk was worn,
and actually I had to make four attempts before I had a workable
copy."

  "What did you do with the old harddisk?"

  "Followed office practice, mr. P."

  "And that is?"

  "I broke the casing and took out the disk, which I also broke,
to make sure no one could ever read it. And then it went out with
normal trash. So right now it's probably somewhere on citydump."

  "And you didn't notice anything unusual about it?"

  "No. Only that it was the same cheap quality that we use in the
offices, and which I have often told you is too risky. The price
of a high quality disk is not much bigger, and it would pay well,
if we changed to that."

  At this time Anna dropped the folder she was carrying, and she
turned round and bent down, with legs stretched, to pick it up,
making sure that Hans P. got a fine view of her bum and pussy,
only covered with a tiny G-string and her pantyhose. She got up
again and turned to face her boss. "I didn't have time to open
any of the files for a check, so of course I can't be 100 % sure,
that one or two isn't damaged, but it seems highly unlikely."

  "Hmmm, hmmm, very good, very good."

  By the colour of his face Anna could read that her little show
had hit home base. "All right, if that was all, mr. P., I've
better get back to work."

  "Well, that's all right, Anna, and thank you for the help."

  The smile she flashed him as she turned round and left the
office, was highly inviting, and she felt a sting of triumph as
she closed the door. This was probably the first time in the
years she had worked for Hans P. that he had noticed her as a
woman.

  Over the next ten days she gradually upgraded her make up, she
had her hair cut, and coloured a deep, reddish brown, and she
started using little drops of heavy perfume now and then. Late
Wednesday afternoon Claire entered the offices to say goodbye to
her husband, as she was flying to Spain once more. Anna knew very
well what was going to happen upstairs that night, and right she
was. Around ten she entered Hans P.'s favourite chat-group,
calling herself "Sandie", and pretty soon she had struck up a
conversation with Hans, who always called himself `Clara' in that
room. Really, Hans was such an easy target, as Anna knew all his
preferences very well, and `in private' they had some raunchy
cyber-sex. When Hans asked "Sandie" what she looked like, Anna
gave him a vivid description of herself, and the underwear she
pretended to wear, but which she had planned on wearing Thursday
at work.

  That Thursday morning became the turning point. Anna arrived at
the offices half an hour early, as she knew how Hans P. often
liked to arrive early, especially if he would have to go to court
later in the day. He liked to study the case in the quiet
offices, before all the noise and questions etc. could disturb
him.

  Anna stuck her face through the half open door and said:
"Morning, mr. P. I'm going to make myself a cup of tea. Would you
like one, too?"

  "That would be lovely, Anna."

  Five minutes later she entered his office with two big cups on
a tray. She placed it on his desk and asked: "If you've got a
minute I have a proposal which might save you a lot of work."

  "Sure, Anna. Sit down and let's have this tea in peace, before
all the others arrive."

  Anna chose the chair, which would give Hans P. an unobstructed
view from his seat behind the desk, and sure, he was stunned,
when she deliberately raised the hem of her knee length skirt
while she was sitting down, and flashed her thighs, clad in black
nylons held up by the striped ribbons of her garter-belt, which
she had described to him so vividly the night before. A silly
look of confusion spread over his face, and Anna could easily see
how the questions flew through his mind.

  "You see, I have this idea: The voice-simulation programs are
so good these days, that a lot of those papers you have to read,
can be fed through the scanner, into the voice program, and onto
a CD, so you can listen to them in your car or whenever you have
time, instead of reading and reading." While she was saying this
Anna leaned forward to pick up her teacup, and when she leaned
back in her chair she carefully crossed her legs, giving him a
short flash of her thin, yellow panties with a red heart
embroidered right over her pussy.

  "Ahh,...er.... I'm not quite sure I got that, Anna. You were
saying?"

  Anna laughed good-naturedly and said: "Mr. P., your mind is
wandering. If you can spend the time, I think it's better I give
you a demonstration, when we have closed offices atfour-thirty."

  "And you'd be willing to stay behind?"

  "I'd be willing," she said, and her tiny smile emphasised the
innuendo of her words. "But we'd better finish our tea now, so I
can get the cups out, because the others will be arriving soon,
and we wouldn't want them to gossip, would we?"

  Anna went round his desk to pick up his empty cup, and as she
was standing beside him, she made sure that a whiff of her heavy
perfume reached his nose, before she left the office with
slightly swaying hips. For the rest of the day Hans P. was on
tender hooks. He even had trouble concentrating in court. He
couldn't be sure, could he? On the other hand "Sandie"s
description of herself and her underwear had been very precise.
Chances that they should meet in such a special chat-room were
one in millions, but then, those were the odds lots of people
bought Lotto-tickets against. Several times during the day he
recalled his antics with "Sandie" last night, and every time he
did, he had to sit down behind his desk to hide his hard cock.

  Close to four-thirty Anna had everything hooked up and
installed for her presentation, and it did not raise any
eyebrows, when she stayed behind as all the other clerks left.
This time Hans P. paid a bit more attention, and he got the
general idea of the possibilities, although his mind was still
preoccupied somewhere between Anna's slender thighs. And Anna,
who had watched him most of the day, was growing more and more
confident, that she had him hooked.  Unnoticed she opened up one,
later two buttons in her silk blouse, giving Hans an unobstructed
view of her small, pert tits, and as if by accident her skirt
rode up her legs until once more he could see those slim thighs,
the tempting stretch of bare skin, and the striped ribbons
holding up her black stockings.

  Shortly after six Anna said: "I'm getting hungry. I think I've
better get home and get some supper."

  "Do you have to? Why don't we call for a pizza to take upstairs
and then lock up down here?"

  "OK, you order it while I unhook all this, so it's ready
tomorrow morning."

  Upstairs they shared a bottle of wine with the pizzas, and when
Hans offered to make a cup of tea or coffee, Anna accepted and
sat down in a heavy armchair in the living room. Hans P. almost
stumbled when he returned from the kitchen with a tray of coffee
and brandy. Anna had leaned back in the armchair, and crossed her
legs with her left ankle resting on her right knee, and the front
of her skirt hoisted up as high as it would go, allowing Hans a
glorious view of her thin, yellow panties with the embroidered
heart, and now with a large damp spot in the gusset. For a few
seconds he was standing there, unmoving like a statue.

  "Let's stop pretending, Hans. You get excited when you look at
my cunt, don't you? And don't be afraid, I shall not land a
harassment suit on you. I like that you are looking."

  Hans woke up and placed the tray on a small table. Then he
smiled. "Well, if you like that I'm looking at you, then put one
leg over the arm rest."

  Anna got up from the chair. "I'll do you one better on that
one. I'll take off my skirt first." When she sat down again, she
lifted her left leg over the armrest, and looking straight at
Hans she unbuttoned the rest of her blouse and pulled it open.
"Well, satisfied? Now it's your turn."

  Quickly Hans got rid of his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. While
he was pulling it off he whispered: "You wouldn't be "Sandie",
would you?"

  "Why the hell do you think I put on these smelly panties today?
You made them plenty wet last night, `Clara', but I wanted you to
see the embroidered heart. Yes, you have to be more careful when
you are in chat-rooms. You gave yourself in, when I asked you
about your wife. When you told about her journeys I knew `Clara'
was you, and my cunt has been dripping all day."

  "Oh, my God, Anna. You are not going to rap on me, are you?"

  "Of course I'm not going to tell anybody. That is, if you are a
nice `girl' like you are in cyberspace. If you can satisfy this
hungry cunt just as good. Come over here. Kneel for me, and suck
my wet, smelly panties. They have been wet for nearly 18 hours,
now."

  His groan sounded almost like a happy sob, when he fell to his
knees and buried his face between her thighs. He sucked, he
licked and he sucked again, basking in the tangy smell, and when
Anna grabbed her gusset with two fingers and pulled it aside, he
buried his tongue in her cunt, and then slowly let it slide up to
her clit.

  "Aaahhhh, that is good. Just a little more. MMmmm, suck my clit
a little. Oooohhh, that's good. But now I want Clara." With a
little snap she let go of her gusset and sat up more straight.
"Take me to the room where you hide your dresses. If you're a
good girl I shall help you with the make up and all, so you can
get really pretty."

  Hans fetched a big suitcase in the attic and then he led Anna
to the bedroom. He was shaking all over in anticipation, and he
certainly was not disappointed. Anna was terribly horny by now,
but she controlled herself. She told Hans to get naked and lie
down on the bed. Then she pulled off her panties and handed them
to Hans. "Here, you can sniff and lick these, while I choose your
outfit from the suitcase." When she was satisfied with her
selection, she turned round to face him, and to make a little
show out of displaying her pretty body, by now dressed only in
black stockings, garter-belt and an open silk shirt. From the
suitcase and from Claire's dresser, she selected a few jars and
bottles. Then she straddled Hans on the bed, led his cock to her
cunt and lowered herself onto him. An electric tingle spread
through her body as she felt his cock fill her up. Then she
leaned forward, opened one of the jars and said:

  "I have better massage my girlfriend with this lotion, so her
skin is soft and smooth." With deft fingers she spread the lotion
on his chest and shoulders, and when the massage began she very
carefully moved her whole body, so that Hans' stiff cock stirred
her wet and hot `pot'. When she could feel that Hans was getting
close, she got up from his cock, leaving it to cool off in the
air. Instead she sat down on his chest with her legs wide open.
"Now I'm going to masturbate myself to a lovely orgasm, and then
I'll apply my `girl's makeup. Don't you dare to move while I do
it." All Hans could do was to watch. Watch a sight he had never
seen. A very horny woman masturbate herself to a violent orgasm.
He had seen some fakes with a couple of whores, but never the
genuine article. Anna was getting really close, when she suddenly
panted: "Clara, Hell, Clara, stick one of your fingers up my
ass... I'm coming now."... Happily Hans obeyed and was rewarded
with a scream of passion and satisfaction, as the orgasm rolled
through Anna's body, and he could feel her ass open and close
round his finger.

  "Mmmm, you're a good girl, Clara. Now I'll take care of your
face."  She leaned over and grabbed another of the jars. "First
I'm going to rub in a nice foundation, and then I'll start making
you up." When Anna sat down on the bed beside his head and went
to work with brushes, mascara, eye-liner, and all the other
tools, a scorching sense of happiness spread through Hans. It was
the fulfilment of a twenty year old dream, to have a woman turn
him into a woman. Her deft and soft fingers danced on his face
like butterflies and sent waves of utter happiness to his heart.
It lasted for more than 15 minutes, and then Anna suddenly said:

  "All right, Clara, this is as good as I can do it today. Put on
your long, blonde wig and then look at yourself in the mirror."
The sight in the mirror was incredible. Some way or another Anna
had managed to emphasize the feminine parts of his face, and down
tone the masculine parts. A very pretty Clara looked at him from
the mirror.

  "Satisfied with the result?  Now come over here, and I'll put
your clothes on you." Hans was totally delirious while Anna
gradually got him dressed up in a bra, flimsy blue open legged
panties, stockings, a garter-belt, high heels, and finally a
long, blue silk dress with a slit almost to the waist. And all
during the process his cock became harder and harder, until it
was almost painful. When Anna had given him the high heel pumps,
she kissed his red lips and then grabbed his shoulders and turned
him towards the mirror. "Say hello to my girlfriend Clara."

  A rush of adrenalin and passion ran through him, but before he
had had time to think, Anna was behind him. "I know you usually
have to do this alone, Hans, but not tonight."  Her cool hand
crept through the slit in the dress, and slowly moved up to grab
his pulsing and hurting cock. "We can't have this cock destroy
your lovely dress, can we?" and she started masturbating him
slowly, first through the silk of the panties, later through the
open legs of them. The sight of it in the mirror was
exhilarating. It was vulgar. The blue silk moving violently as
Anna's hand ran up and down his cock. The thousands of times he
had dreamed of this. It all boiled together into a violent,
heartbreaking orgasm, which made him spurt again and again, into
Anna's hand, across the silk in the panties and down his legs.

  "Go to the bathroom and clean up yourself, and take on a new
pair of panties. I don't want my girlfriend messed up by some
guy's semen."

  When he returned from the bathroom Anna had moved back to the
living room. She had poured them two glasses of wine, and then
she sat down in the armchair. She looked closely at Hans as he
wriggled his way across the room on his high heels. "I shall have
to teach you how to walk on those heels, Clara, you look quite
clumsy. And tomorrow afternoon I shall go to town and buy you a
corset. You haven't got much of a waist, you know, and you'll
look a lot more feminine when you get one. But you'll do for
tonight." Her words, implicating that she would be with him
tomorrow, too, made him very happy.

  "You can leave tomorrow at noon. Just say that you need to pick
up some computer-equipment. And you don't have to return to
work."

  "Sure, I'll do that, but now kiss me like a true girlfriend
would, and show me you can make love to a woman like a woman
should do." Hans tried his best. His kisses were a bit too rough,
and his pussy licking sure needed improvement. But they danced,
they fucked, they masturbated, they talked nasty, and Anna even
spanked Clara into submission.

  For the two weeks Claire was in Spain, Anna and Hans met almost
every night. During the weekend they even drove to Copenhagen
with the big suitcase, booked a hotel and made Clara ready for a
night of clubbing. And it was during these two weeks of
uninhibited sex that Hans made the mistake of his life. He began
talking about love. He even persuaded Anna that he was serious.
And he even promised that he would get rid of Claire so he could
live with Anna for the rest of his life. Anna had never had
intentions in that direction, but she believed him, and it became
a serious goal for her.

  But when Claire returned, and it became vastly difficult for
them to meet so often, Hans realised he had made promises, which
were impossible to fulfill. Claire owned 75% of the business, as
she had invested her inheritance in it from the start. So all in
all a divorce would be a disaster for Hans. Financial ruin,
social deroute and a need to start all over again.

  When he finally got the courage to tell Anna, she had sensed it
a lot sooner. On the surface she maintained her usual behaviour,
while the wish for revenge burned her out. As soon as she became
suspicious of his withdrawal,  she had started gathering evidence
in the computers and on photo copies, of some of the more shady
deals Hans P. had been involved in, like tax evasion, empty
companies, fake bankrupcies, etc. Anna had no intention to
blackmail Hans into keeping his promises. His behaviour had been
so low and cowardly, that she didn't want him at all. But she
wanted revenge.

  Just a few months later photo-copies and floppy disks turned up
at a few selected newspapers and at the Prosecution of Economic
Crime. Hans P. was indicted, sentenced and imprisoned. In back
taxes, fines and damage suits, his whole fortune was lost, and
most of Claire's too. When the final accounts were made, only
300.000 dollars were unaccounted for, but that was judged to be
the result of Hans P.'s creative bookkeeping.

  Today Hans P. still has 8 years to serve, Claire has moved to
Spain permanently, and Anna has bought an old farm close to
Copenhagen, and she has turned it into a highly successful club
for crossdressers, where they can meet secretly for weekends of
wild sex.

  So much for number one. Not that ordinary, is it? Well, number
three is a bit special, too.

Chapter three, number three.

  Number three is one of the old fishermen's houses, restored and
decorated in a classy, light blue colour with all the woodwork
painted white. The narrow front garden is filled with glowing red
and yellow roses of many different kinds, emphasizing the
luminant blue of the house. I passed the old town only a month
ago, and I couldn't help turning off the motorway to go back to
Smallstreet to have a look. Ulla and Erik were still the
inhabitants of number three, and I even had a chance for a little
chat, as Ulla was in the front garden, pruning the roses. In her
early fifties Ulla is still one stunning woman to look at. Tall
and slim, athletic, with a beautiful, classic face and long,
wavy, blonde hair, which for the garden work was gathered in a
decorative bun on top of her head. I told her to give my
greetings to Erik, and on my way out of town I couldn't help
wondering, if those two were still up to their special sports.

  Ulla and Erik had given up having children many years ago. None
of them wanted to adopt, and instead they turned their attention
to each other, which they gradually found to be highly rewarding.
They were both very beautiful people, and highly successful in
their jobs, Erik as a teacher and Ulla as an illustrator for the
local advertising agency. They were highly sexed too, and for
many years they gave each other so much pleasure, that there was
no need for the exotic. Their general attitude towards sex was
very open. "I'll try anything at least once," Ulla often said,
and variation was a great part on their menu.

  About twenty years ago Ulla got a phone call from her best
friend in art school. She was going to get married, and she
wanted Ulla to be one of the bridesmaids. The party following the
wedding itself was very animated. Lots of people in their
twenties and thirties, lots of dancing to a great band, and lots
of gropes and snuggling taking place in corners and in the
garden. It was close to midnight before Erik started the long
drive home, with Ulla relaxing in the passenger seat.

  "I hope you are not very mad at me, because I let Sven touch my
breasts while we were dancing."

  "Are you crazy, it was terribly exciting to watch. I had hoped
he would touch you in other places too."

  "Please don't get mad, but he did."

  "Really?"

  "Yes. A little later he took me out into the garden on some
pretext I don't even remember, and behind the big walnut tree he
had his hand down into my panties."

  "I wish I could have seen that. Was it exciting?"

  "Oh, God, yes. You know very well that I get horny, when I
drink red wine. I couldn't stop him, and he made me come on his
fingers. You should feel my panties, they are soaked.

  Erik let go of the steering wheel with his right hand, and
slipped it across to touch her thigh. Willingly Ulla turned a
little in the seat and hoisted up her skirt, then she grabbed his
hand and led it to her panties. "See?"

  "Holy Moses, you are so wet." When he began rubbing the gusset
of her wet panties Ulla let out a deep moan and opened up her
legs a little bit more.

  "Aahhh, this is good. Sure you are not mad?"

  "If you could reach over you wouldn't doubt me. This makes me
very hard."

  "That it was some other guy?"

  "That `my' pussy has been made so wet by a stranger's hand,
yes.  And that you are such a horny woman, that you let it
happen."

  "I'm horny, all right. You know, sometimes I have trouble
having an orgasm. This took less than two minutes, that's how
horny he made me."

  "Because he was a stranger?"

  "Because of that, yes, but also because it was forbidden, and
it was like the first times as a teenager, when somebody touched
me. Oh, God, Erik, it even makes me horny now, talking about it.
If I take off my panties, will you go on rubbing me?"

  She sure was horny. Her panties were saturated, and when he got
his fingers on her naked pussy, one of them easily slipped inside
her. "Oh, Erik, rub me, and tell me again that you're not mad I
let a stranger finger my pussy."

  "I'm not mad, love, it excites me no end that you let a
stranger masturbate you till you came. You like to hear me say
that, don't you?"

  "Oooohhh, God, yesssss. It's lovely."

  They were approaching one of the motorway rest areas, and
suddenly Erik turned off the lane. "Open your blouse and let me
see your tits," he moaned, as the car slowed down. With trembling
fingers she did what he had told her to do. By that time Erik had
spied three men standing round their car at the other end of the
rest area.

  "Roll down the window, love," and while she was doing it, he
drove up beside the three men. They turned round to look at the
car, and then Erik leaned over, across Ulla, and asked through
the window: "Any of you want to feel up this lovely woman?"

  "Are you crazy," Ulla asked, her voice trembling.

  "I am."

  A young guy, looking like he was still in his teens, said: "I'd
sure like to feel her."

  "Then put your arm through the window and feel free to do
whatever you want."

  The young fellow aimed directly at Ulla's flat stomach, and in
a few seconds he had found his way to her dripping pussy. This
elicited a deep moan from Ulla, turning into a little scream, as
he pushed a finger into her and began fingerfucking her.

  "Oh, my God," Ulla groaned. "This is absolutely wild."

  "Enjoying it?"

  "Ooohh, yes, yessss. It's wild and crazy, and I'm going to
come. I am! I'm coming. Oh, God, so fast, I'm coming." When Ulla
was recovering from her orgasm the young guy was still
fingerfucking her.

  "Stop now, and give her a break," Erik said through the window.
Let one of the others try.

  "OK, and thank you, lady," the youngster said and withdrew from
the window, only to be replaced by an older guy.

  "You sure have a pair of beautiful breasts, lady," the older
guy said, as he stuck his left arm through the window and
carressed them for a little while. Then his right arm went in,
too, and pretty soon Ulla started her groans again. The sight of
this obviously experienced stranger bringing his wife to new
heights, thrilled Erik no end, and when he began mauling her
small tits, and sometimes pinching her nipples, at the same time
masturbating her clit with two fingers, it excited Ulla just as
much.

  "Oooohhh, Erik, his hands are so rough. My God, he'll make me
come again. Eeeeeooowwwww, I'm coming, I'm coming." The powerful
lust raked her body, and with quivering thighs and a rippling
belly she worked herself through a long, lovely orgasm.

  "AAaaaahhh. That was something!" she groaned. "But I want to go
home now, Erik."

  "OK, love. You heard the lady, didn't you? She wants to go home
now, so we'll go. But thank you."

  "Well, thanks to you, too. Some woman you've got there." He
removed his arms, and pretty soon Erik had the car rolling, while
Ulla rolled the window back up.

For a little while they drove in silence, Ulla still slumped back
in her seat, making no attempt to cover up herself. Finally, as
they were approaching our little town, she pushed herself up into
the ordinary sitting position. "Erik, this was absolutely crazy
and wild. Please tell me you're not mad, that they made me so
horny."

"Not at all, love. On the contrary. It was terribly exciting to
watch you, and don't you dare to cover up. This late there'll
probably not be any people out in the street, and I want to walk
you inside, just the way you look now."

"You really have gone crazy tonight, haven't you?"

"MMm. Do you wonder? And do you know what I'm going to do in
three minutes?"

"I think I've got an idea about it, but tell me."

"I'll do two things at the same time. I'll fuck the horniest and
wettest cunt in town, and I'll make love to the prettiest wife in
town."

"What a nice thing to say, love."

Erik did as he had told: He walked her, half naked, up the front
garden path, and inside they barely made it to the living room.
He asked Ulla to sit down in the big armchair, and to resume her
position from the car, when those strangers had masturbated her,
and then he ran his hard and horny cock up her slobbering cunt in
one unobstructed push. "God in Heaven, wife. Your cunt is so hot
and alive. Tell me if it was as good as it looked."

"You lovely, horny husband, you. I don't know ..... how it
looked, .... but you can be damned sure .... it was good. I never
.... let anybody touch me, .... and then .... in one night.... I
can't believe it, .... but three times .... I did it, .....  and
I came three times..! Oh, Erik, and I'm going to come again. Fuck
me, fuck me hard, fuck meeeeeee...."

Erik had been horny for such a long time, that he didn't last
very long. It was short, it was furious, it was dirty and wild,
and when he yelled his orgasm out into their living room, she
exploded yet another time, while he collapsed on top of her. A
little later, when his softening cock fell out of her, he got up
and took her hand.

"I'm so damned tired, now. But I don't want this to end right
now. Will you do me a favour?"

"I'll do anything once, you know that, love."

"Then I want you to put those soaked panties back on, and I want
you to keep on these clothes, while we sleep. I want to wake up
tomorrow and see this lovely, randy woman on my pillow."

"You got it, dear. And may I presume you've got some plans for
tomorrow morning?"

"Ooohh, you bet I have. And if I wasn't as exhausted as I am, I'd
carry them out right now."

Sunday morning was one of those glorious summer mornings. A
cloudless sky, a bright sun, almost no wind, and at about five
o'clock Ulla woke up, as the sun reached their bedroom window.
For a little while she listened to her sleeping husband, and she
wondered how yesterday's antics would look in the bright light of
morning. God, she had been horny last night. Hopefully Erik would
have the same attitude when he woke up !  She willed herself to
fall asleep again, and not until nine o'clock was she awakened by
Erik's kisses on her eyes and forehead.

She lifted her mouth towards him, and as he pressed a loving kiss
on her lips, she cuddled up against him. A little later she
became very much aware of his hard cock, pressing against her
thigh. A small flash of passion ran through her body. Thank God
he was horny again and apparently he had no regrets about
yesterday. She wriggled her right thigh against his hard cock and
whispered:

"Hey, good morning, lover. What's that, you've got for me?"

"A compliment for a very horny lady from her just as horny
husband."

"Mmmm, I like such a compliment when I wake up. And may I ask,
why?"

"Because your open blouse reminds me of what happened to your
pretty breasts, last night. And the skirt around your waist
reminds me of what happened to your pussy, last night. That's
why."

"And my panties, what do they remind you of, my naughtyhusband?"

"They remind me of how wet they were last night. Oh, my, and they
are still wet."

"No dear, not still, they are wet again."

"How wonderful."

"Why don't you pull them down, then, so you can feel if my pussy
is wet again? It is not as wet as yesterday, but I'm sure you can
do something about that."

"I shall." He pushed his right hand down into her panties. "But
first I shall do this, to remind you of how you got your first
orgasm last night."

"Oh, yesssss. I did get carried away then, didn't I?"

"That's what you told me in the car."

"Rub it up and down for me. Just short movements up and down -
then you'll really remind me of what happened."

"Like this?"

"A little shorter, and a little more pressure."

"This?"

"Oh, oooooohhh, yessss. Just like that. You are crazy, Erik, that
you want me to remember. All other husbands would want their wife
to forget.   Aaaahhh, it's good."

"And you came very fast, didn't you?"

"God, I was so horny I made his hand wet, and when I came I could
have swallowed an elephant up there. Aaahhh, I'm getting close
again. Do you really want me to remember?"

"Really. I want you to remember it all."

"All right, but then leave the talking to me, eeehh? Just rub it
like you do. I'm out in the garden. Sven has his arm round my
waist. The big tree. I lean against it. He kisses me....
oooohhhh, - his hand is on its way up my skirt.  God, it tingles.
Now he touches my pussy behind the panties. Oh, he's creaping up,
higher up, now his hand is inside my panties.... Oh, this is
wild, he touches me so differently. God, he rubs my clit so good.
Just like you do now. Oh, I'm going to come so fast, I am. I'm
coming, Erik,  I*M COMING.....eeeeeeiiiii.... oh, stop rubbing,
just hold your hand there.  Aahhh, push one finger in. You can
feel it, can't you?  Ahhh. Phew.."

Ulla suddenly went all soft. All tension was washed away, and for
a minute or so she just relaxed, enjoying the feeling of Erik's
hand in her panties, and the finger resting in her wet opening.
Then she grabbed his hand and pulled it out of her panties. She
rolled over to rest on her hands and knees, and reached back to
pull off the panties.

"Now, my lovely, wicked husband, I have a little plan, which I
made when I was awake around 5 this morning. She straddled his
legs and slowly moved upwards until his very hard and horny cock
was pushing against her cunt. Slowly she wriggled her hips until
she was sure that the first couple of inches were securely
embedded in her moist folds, and with a very erotic sigh she
pressed downwards till he was buried all the way inside her.

First she leaned forward until her long, blonde hair formed a
tent round his face, and then she kissed him, lovingly at first,
sexily thereafter. With tongue and teeth and all. Then she put
her hands on his shoulders and pushed herself up, until she was
sitting upright on his pulsing cock. "I want to see if you're all
words, or if it really makes you horny, what we did last night. I
can't fingerfuck myself like the young boy did, because I don't
want to let that lovely cock out of my pussy, but I can ask you:
Did you get horny when the older guy mauled my breasts like
this?" With one hand she repeated what he had done to her breasts
the night before. She mauled them and she pinched her nipples.

"You know, it hurt a little. But he was very good, and it was
only a good hurt."

"Grrrrr. It is great, Ulla. A really god hurt?"

"Can't you feel how my pussy turns into a cunt? Feel it, it's
opening up, and you are going to become very, very wet, I tell
you."

She was looking straight into his eyes, and it was so very true:
Her pussy became alive around his cock, and he felt it open up,
wide and wet and hot.

"And now look at my right hand. See how he masturbated me? He did
it exactly this way, and he was very good at that, too. Do you
like to see it? Do you like me to remember? I like it. I love to
be your horny fuck-machine; I love to have other men do this to
me. Aaaaahhh, love. I can feel you like it. It's not just words,
is it?"

"God, no, Ulla. This is the wildest."

"MMMmmm. And in a little while I'm going to come, oh so hard,
because he made me come yesterday. And I'll make you spurt all
your lovely juice up into me." She continued mauling her breasts
with her left hand while she masturbated with her right. As she
was getting closer she started little rocking motions on him,
until she suddenly gasped and started yelling.  "Yesssss, oh
yesss, this is bloody good, I'm coming. I'm your whore and I'm
coming because I remember.... OOooooooooo."

She had closed her eyes, now, and her head was tilted backwards.
When Erik felt her sloppy cunt start its contractions round his
aching cock, it was just too much. With a deep groan he started
spurting, again and again and again, while Ulla in the last
throes of her orgasm clamped down hard on him, so his cock hit
bottom.

Their exhaustion was just as much mental as it was physical.

Apparently Ulla and Erik had found their mutual little
perversion, because over the years they never strayed much from
it. Four or five times a year they would visit some rest area on
the motorway. A few times Ulla would step out of the car.
Standing outside the car, several men could fondle her at the
same time, which she found extremely exciting, but usually she
much preferred the relative safety of the car. They never
advanced to actually fucking the strangers, but a few times Erik
persuaded her to masturbate them. By the look of contentment on
her face, that day I saw her among her roses, I should say that
they have not yet stopped their antics.



To be continued.....














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