A Surprise Revelation
No, Not my boobs! This is the third blog about last weekend. I had not been sure about writing it, but Carol, and particularly Charles…
No, Not my boobs! This is the third blog about last weekend. I had not been sure about writing it, but Carol, and particularly Charles, have given it their blessing.
As the sexually charged atmosphere ebbed after Charles had shot his load over me I decided to go in with both feet and see if I was right about my suspicions about their preference for young participants.
I asked the question. “Not that I’m complaining, but you called me young, amongst other things, and referred to me as ‘my dear’ was there a reason?”
“Well, yes,” replied Charles in a puzzled tone, “compared to us you are young and you are dear to us.”
“Nothing more?”
“Such as?” I was going to have to spell it out.
“Well, I wondered if you were particularly turned on by younger people.”
Carol roared. “Hun, don’t take this the wrong way but if we liked ‘young’ people,” she did air quotes around young, “I’m not sure that would stretch to, what is it 44?”
It was said in the lightest of tones, and I took her point. I replied in the same way, “Huh, 43 if you don’t mind! So that’s not a kink?”
“No Hun.”
I couldn’t stop digging.
“So what is?”
They exchanged glances. No, more than a glance, they looked at each other for a second or two. Clearly asking each other, ‘should we tell her?’ The answer was yes.
“Given what we’ve done together I think we need to be straight with you Hun. I’ll let Charlie tell you.”
“Mm, ah, yes, well.” It was unusual, unheard of in fact, for Charles to be so hesitant. I wondered what they were going to say.
“We, I…”
“Oh come in Charlie, spit it out. You’ve just shot your load over her, I doubt she’ll find what you tell her too difficult to stomach.” Too difficult? What on earth were they going to tell me?
“If I must. I like being a maid. Being made to serve my mistress. To be given menial tasks while dressed in a French maids outfit.”
“Tell her Charlie, that’s one of the reasons he loves you peeing around the house. When you’ve gone he dons his little maid outfit and I get him shampooing the carpet and cleaning it up.”
Whoa. This was not where I thought this would go. Charles was so upright, old-fashioned in so many ways; women do the chores, men earn the money. I couldn’t see it.
I laughed. “Your joshing?”
“No Hun. Charlie, go and get your outfit, show her.” Charles dutifully went upstairs and returned with a French maid outfit. A most elaborate affair, the skirt short, with multilayered petticoats underneath. I could imagine wearing it but the thought of Charlie in it almost had me laughing again. I managed to restrain myself but the image was so incongruous.
“Well, that’s a surprise.”
“And you don’t think your new dirty habits have been an eye opener to us?”
“Ah, yes, okay. Point taken.”
As it sank in I began to feel a tingle about the idea though. This was now serious fetish territory. But then where would I classify pissing through my knickers onto someone’s lounge carpet? Strange isn’t it? Things we do we can think quite normal but different kinks in others we look at as weird.
“Come on, this seems to be time for honesty, what’s your kink, Carol?”
“Oh, I’m very conventional, my love. Nothing that’s not mainstream.”
I couldn’t help it. “Conventional?” I blurted out, “watching your husband come over your friend, then doing sexy things with her in front of him?”
Carol looked a little contrite, “Well alright, perhaps not totally conventional, but I’m not into dressing up or anything.”
The atmosphere was totally relaxed. We could have been discussing what TV programme we wanted to watch. Quite surreal.
“But you’ve joined me in peeing?”
“Yes, but that’s mainly for his lordship here to get his kicks.”
“Don’t you enjoy it then?” I was concerned. I wanted more peeing fun with Carol.
“Oh, no. Don’t get me wrong. It is fun. I enjoy doing it. Turning Charlie on is a bonus.”
“Nothing else?”
“Not really.” I was disappointed, I’d hoped she harboured a dark secret, something really weird. I so wanted to experience things I shouldn’t.
“What about BDSM?”
“No sorry Hun.” I wondered if I’d have to go through all the variations I knew. All two of them!
“Flashing?”
“No, Hun, I’ll leave that to you.”
“Wife swopping, being a hot wife?”
“We have swopped as you call it, years ago now. Not sure if that makes me a hot wife.”
“Why did you stop?”
“Like other things I suppose, a couple we used to do it with mostly moved away and we got out of the scene and haven’t felt the urge to go back. As I’ve said until you threw this in our face our sex lives had become very dreary.”
Charles joined in. “Indeed, I can’t think of the last time Miss Rose had to clear up before your accident”
“Glad to be of service.” I wanted to stay on the swapping. I needed to know if there might be a way for me to further my rehabilitation.
“Do you miss it? The swopping? Now I’ve rekindled your drives?”
Carol responded “Personally no. Charlie’s well aware, but I was never the greatest fan. Again, don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed it but could get as much from Charlie as I did from another. But then, what I got from Charlie after one of our exchanges was always more exciting, so it was worth it.” They were being amazingly open and I loved them for it. I decided to be honest too.
“Why I’m interested, please I hope this is not out of order, I want to know if, or when, I get to the stage I feel I want a man, a full fuck, could I ask, would Charlie do it?”
Ha. Listen to it, “If I need a lift to the station could Charles take me?” Hilarious reading it back. At the time it seemed natural enough.
“Of course Hun, any time you’re ready. The only stipulation would be I’d like to watch.”
That from a woman who is without kinks and totally conventional; wanting to watch her husband fuck her friend! Right! I didn’t have a problem with it though and said so.
The picture in my mind of Charles dressed in his maid outfit was both ludicrous and arousing. So far-fetched it was definitely turning me on again. A step into a deviant world I knew nothing about. Why would that be a turn-on? I can see the pleasure in dressing in woman’s clothes, the feel of the material, the fantasy of being feminine, but the chores, the cleaning up of my pee, I couldn’t see it. So I asked. “What’s the turn on Charles, why do you like it?”
“Isn’t that a bit like asking why you like chocolate? Could you explain why you like exhibiting yourself, playing with your pee?”
He was right of course. Who knows why? I certainly didn’t. I know it’s because it’s deviant, naughty, wrong, risky, but why it’s those things that trigger me I have no idea. Anyway, who cares?
“Yes of course you’re right. Is there a chance I could see you in your outfit?” As soon as I’d said it I realised how wrong it sounded. As if I wanted a laugh. Before either of them could reply I said, “No, that sounds wrong. What I meant was when we next do something sexy would you wear it, Charles?”
“I’m not sure. It’s been quite embarrassing even mentioning it, it’s not something I’d feel comfortable with others around.”
“Oh, I do understand. I’m not judging, god look what I’m doing! I just feel it’s another step into a deviant world and that’s what’s turning me on. Can I offer anything in return?”
Charles thought about it. “Given it’s you, my dear, and it’s you that rekindled all this I suppose I could make an exception. How about if you dressed as a maid too and shared the chores?”
“Why not? That could be fun. Where can I get an outfit?”
So our next get together could be interesting!
