An Afternoon with Carol and Charles
The week had had it’s highs and lows with the the super erotic flashing session of the previous weekend and the discovery of my photos on…
The week had had it’s highs and lows with the the super erotic flashing session of the previous weekend and the discovery of my photos on other sites (hopefully that’s now controlled). However, any idea I had of a quiet weekend were dispelled when Carol suggested I pop over to hers.
“Hun, I don’t know about you but last weekend was a blast. Charlie is so disappointed he missed it. Any chance of you coming over here at the weekend and we’ll do some photos and have a laugh.”
Why not? I thought. I could always chill out the following week and posing did make me feel sexy. So I said yes.
“Great, bring plenty of outfits, including that one you wore at the fort and let’s see if we can make some masterpieces. Oh and drink plenty of water before you come.”
“Pardon?”
“We want some pee action.”
“We?”
“Yes, special request from my lord and master!”
We fixed on Saturday and when I got there the door was opened by Charles. “Oh, Charles. Not playing golf?”
“No, the match was canceled, some silly bugger’s caught covid.” Full of sympathy our Charles.
“So you’ll be here?” I heard a touch of concern in my own voice. Stupid really. Carol ruled him with a strictness more suited to Victorian school teachers and not in a million years did I think he’d make a move on me, he wasn’t that sort, but there was just some lurking reservation about him in the back of my mind. I ought to try to describe him. He is slightly overweight with a small protruding stomach and a slight stoop; six feet tall, with grey hair receding from his brow. Not exactly film star material. He’d been a director of a subsidiary of some FTSE 100 company so was used to being respected, but I found him pompous and slightly arrogant. Not in a million years did I think he’d make a move on me, he wasn’t that sort, but there was just some lurking reservation about him in the back of my mind.
My friend appeared at his shoulder and replied on his behalf, as usual. “Yes, he will, but I think you’ll be happy with that. You and your deviant little body.” Really? I was beginning to suspect I was being set up for something. Carol well knew about my phobia and had tried to help me overcome it. Was this going to be another attempt? I hoped not, not with Charles. As I say he’s hardly the type to feature in one’s fantasies and I wanted to enjoy the afternoon.
We went into the kitchen and Carol instructed Charles to make coffee. It never ceases to amaze me how these tycoons who could be tyrants in the work place could be such wimps at home facing their wives. Perhaps I should have had lessons from my friend years ago.
After a couple of coffees, she suggested we did some photos. “Let’s see what outfits you’ve brought.” We trooped up to a bedroom; much to my surprise, Charles accompanied us.
Carol opened my case, (I’ve told you before how she takes charge of everything) and put the different outfits on the bed. “Charlie, she’s brought it!” She held up the suit I’d worn the previous week. “Right Hun. On with that. Stockings of course, black undies and that hat. See you downstairs in five.” She ushered the silent Charles out of the room and left me to get changed. Stranger and stranger, but the thought of posing in that outfit was exciting. I’m not sure you men would understand, but the girls reading this will know well the feeling certain outfits give them. This one, while quite restrained — actually very restrained, — did it in spades for me. No idea why. And after its outing the previous week, it induced memories of that exhibition I made of myself.
Changed, I went downstairs and into a room they called their drawing room. We started shooting and I posed in various ways on their sofa, giving my legs a good airing. Carol was firing away while Charles sat quietly in an armchair on the other side of the room. It didn’t bother me, at least not tremendously. In fact, it gave me a frisson of additional excitement. I was almost acting like a stripper for an audience. Once that thought entered my head I became more adventurous.
Carol had been snapping away for a while when I became desperate to pee. Those two cups of coffee and the water I’d drunk at home were making themselves felt. “Are we nearly done, Carol?” I asked, “I’m desperate for a pee.”
“Good, do it there.”
“What? You’re joking. Doing up in Charles’s den is one thing, but this is your living room, best carpet, the works.”
“Rubbish. It’ll clean out easy enough, it did upstairs, and Charlie’s desperate to watch you. You will do it in front of him won't you?”
Will I? Could I? It was one thing doing it in front of a stranger, many strangers out in the open, at a distance, but here, in close proximity to… to a MAN! I hesitated. “Oh come on Hun, where’s that slut, I thought you were up for anything,” Carol goaded me.
She was right, wasn’t she? Here’s me saying I’d do anything for a sexy thrill and I balk at peeing in front of a man. I knew he wouldn’t do anything. Not with Carol standing there anyway. Sod it. I had to be true to my new deviant self.
“Okay.”
I stood up. You’ve seen the outfit, a dress, and long coat. I’d lost the dress along the way and just had the coat on. I opened my legs, hitched up the coat, and let go. Oh, the sheer exhilaration. The feeling of dirtiness. Ten times greater with Charles sitting there. I watched his face. Mm, perhaps he would make a move on me, certainly those eyes conveyed a desire. I collapsed back on to an armchair, legs apart gently fingering myself through my sodden knickers, hardly aware of the presence of a man.
“Hun, has that got you horny?” Carol had addressed the question to me.
“Oh yes, and then some!”
“Good, because we have a surprise for you. Don’t freak out. I’ve got control of him. A move out of place and he’s dead.”
I didn’t have the faintest idea what Carol was on about, but I was so horny I didn’t much care.
Carol continued. “Come on Charlie.”
I hadn’t been looking at anything particular, just drifting, thinking what a slut I was, peeing over their furniture and carpet. My gaze moved to my friend’s husband. Charles’s hand had gone to his crotch and he was rubbing himself! It was a sign of how far gone into my sexual world I was that the image made me even hotter, rather than screaming the house down. A man, in close proximity, rubbing his cock! Then he started to unzip himself. Whoa! What was happening? This man, a man I’d known for a decade or more, a man married to my best friend, a man twenty years my senior, a man I almost regarded as a father figure was about to expose himself to me. On my ‘I have a phobia about men’ scale that was well in the red zone, and even the fact I was so on heat didn’t alter that.
My face must have registered my fear. Carol sought to allay it. “Hun, don’t worry. He won’t move. Just let him enjoy himself. You’re safe.”
So is a woman confronted by a spider, or a mouse. It doesn’t make the fear, albeit irrational, any less real.
His cock was out. Average, I’d say in hindsight, although at the time I had no inclination to worry about its size. I was transfixed. Like being hypnotised by a snake (appropriate metaphor I suppose).
He started wanking. Again in hindsight, I could hardly blame him. I’d just peed in his living room. I had my skirt around my waist, my soaked knickers pulled aside and I was fingering myself. What? How did that happen? I had no recollection of pulling my knickers aside. I realised too my hips were thrust forward as if encouraging him to get closer, giving him a clearer view. My mind was opposing this with a vengeance. “No, no. Please stop.” The tone in my voice was hardly demanding, I’m surprised the words were actually spoken. “Hun? You sure?” asked Carol. I failed to reply vocally. My body did it on behalf of my brain. Against the wishes of my brain. I widened my legs as my fingers now disappeared into my cunt. Sopping. My juice leaking out over the leather chair. Charles's hand had increased in speed. My fingers matched his. I started shaking my head. “No, no, no.” I was coming. I didn’t know if my words were meant to stop Charles or to hold on to my orgasm. The sight of a real cock a couple of metres from me and I was coming. Not an imaginary cock. Not one in a video, but one attached to a man sitting in the same room as me. ‘Mixed emotions’ is an inadequate description. Charles was on the verge of coming too. I could see that, even through the fog of my confusion. Then he did. He made no attempt to catch it. He let his semen fly out of his cock across the floor towards me. It didn’t come near. What I’d have done if I’d felt it I don’t know. There was a copious quantity. For a man of his age, I’d have thought a huge quantity although I don’t have the experience to know. His eruption caused mine to double in intensity. My hips thrust into the air, my hand clamped over my pussy and I felt the waves of my orgasm sweep through me. And I screamed. Not the one of fear I’d almost issued just a few minutes earlier, but one of sexual fulfillment.
I don’t know how long I sat there. How long the three of us sat there. Silent. What thoughts the other two were having I had no idea. Mine were a jumble. Horny as hell. Contemplating what I’d done over the last few minutes was satisfying in the extreme. If I discounted the presence of Charles’s cock. I’d been a total and utter slut and that feeling is such a gorgeous one. Combined with the satisfying orgasm I was on a high. But then there was his cock. The closest I’d been to a ‘spider’ for years. And I’d survived. Mentally I’d come through. I needed at some stage to come to terms with it, but not now.
Carol eventually broke the silence. “Well, my dears, that’s an interesting way of spending a Saturday afternoon.” It didn’t bring gales of laughter, but it did relieve the tension. The tension which was probably only mine, but seemed very real.
Charles rearranged himself, put his cock away, zipped up his trousers, stood up, and said, “I need a Scotch. Anyone else?”
I said yes. I desperately needed a stiff drink, not that Scotch was a favourite. I looked at Carol. She’d engineered this. I wasn’t sure whether to be livid or to thank her. She was sitting there looking as though she’d just been watching Coronation Street, calm and unruffled. Amazing. Her husband had just wanked himself off in front of her best friend (At least I think I am, hope I am.) while said friend had returned the compliment. I kept my gaze on her until she met my eyes. “What?” she queried. My expression conveyed my feelings. “Oh, come on Hun, you know you enjoyed it. It's far too long for you to be carrying this phobia around. Think what just happened and enjoy the sensation.”
Part 2 of my afternoon with Carol and Charles to follow.
Full link to photographs will follow Part 2
