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Message-ID: <40382asstr$1042247416@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Spiller -" <spiller48@hotmail.com>
Mime-Version: 1.0
Subject: {ASSM} RP: Small Town, Small Street, part one.
Date: Fri, 10 Jan 2003 20:10:16 -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 city dump."

	"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 at four-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 naughty husband?"

"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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