A PERFECT FALL 2018: A Suburban Mom

"I told you before that stockings and a garter-belt or thigh highs were sexy, not grannyhose" she said, as she stood up and grabbed my arms, lifting me to my feet.

I was completely confused about what was going on as she threw me around like a Raggedy-Ann doll. I defended, "They just don't seem day to day practical."

She shook her head as she dropped to her knees and quickly pulled my granny hose down to my knees. "It's not about practicality, but sexiness." She then added, "You also need some new underwear."

"These are comfy," I defended, even though I knew they weren't sexy, which I guessed was the new standard for everything. I then watched her move her hand inside my panties and slide something inside my vagina. I moaned both out of shock and pleasure as this something was suddenly inside me.

She pulled my granny hose back up, playfully pushed me back down to my chair and announced, "We're going shopping tomorrow."

I was completely stunned. Had I just been sexually molested by my friend?

As I pondered this I suddenly felt vibrations begin inside me. "Ooooooooh," I moaned, an intense pleasure hitting me like a sudden lightning bolt.

"This vibrator has ten different vibration patterns and three speeds," she explained, as she sat back down, displaying a remote control in her hand.

"What did you... just... put... inside me?" I asked, unable to speak smoothly.

"A vibrating egg," she answered. "Like it?"

"It feels... weird," I answered.

"Weird good?"

"Yeah," I moaned, "ooohh, yeah," as she changed the pattern.

"I have at least a couple of dozen toys I use, depending on my mood and who I'm with," she explained.

"That mannnnny?" I asked, as she increased the speed even as the words and who I'm with registered.

"At least," she nodded. "My cunt likes variety."

"It does feel good," I admitted, no longer caring how this toy got inside me, just enjoying its magic.

"With the advancement in sex toys men could one day become obsolete," she joked, as she pressed another button.

"Oh my God!" I gasped, as the intensity accelerated and my orgasm was about to explode... in seconds... while usually it took me many minutes to even get close.

"Come, Jessica, just let go and come," she said, her hand going back onto my leg and rubbing it ever so gently.

"Oh fuck!" I screamed, almost never cursing, as the orgasm erupted out of me in one sudden explosion.

"There you go," she said, the soul of generosity.

The orgasm sent tidal waves of pleasure through me, way more intense than any of my self-generated orgasms... keeping my eyes closed as I rode the waves of euphoria.

Once I was finally done and my breathing approached normal, she handed me the remote and said, "Here's a gift for you."

"Thanks," I said weakly, knowing I had a new best friend... not Amy this time, but the egg thing.

We chatted some more and agreed to go shopping tomorrow.

I won't bore you with the shopping details but I bought new panties, mostly thongs which I thought were very impractical, all pink at Amy's suggestion, a garter-belt and stockings, thigh highs in a variety of colours, some lingerie and new heels. We also went to a sex shop, something I'd been curious to go into for years, where I discovered a whole new world.

Amy convinced me to buy a rabbit vibrator, a massage wand, a suction cup big black dildo that seemed too big for any woman, and, although I couldn't fathom ever using them, a set of three butt plugs... also black. She stressed when I protested I would never use them, "Jessica, God provided us three pleasure holes, why would you reject a gift given by God?"

Oddly, that made sense to my Christian values, and I ended up buying them... plus, I just didn't seem able to say no to her about anything. I'd even joked to her during the shopping spree as she'd had me trying on some outfits so sexy, that I felt like her Barbie Girl. Her response should have been another red flag (pink flag?) as she responded, "I do love playing with Barbie Girls."

2. GETTING WILDER

What I next found intriguing was the fact that when I saw people going in and out of Amy's house, they were:

1. Always girls.

2. Always dressed up when they came in and out, not really looking like they were going to see a psychologist, but rather as if they were heading out to a club.

3. Mostly college age girls... one was even one of my daughter's college friends who walked in dressed in a cheerleader outfit and five inch heels which made it almost impossible for her to walk.

As I watched the parade of beautiful women going in and out of Amy's house from early morning before I left for work to late at night, I became more and more curious about her clientele. I mean I assumed they were all clients, but I would later learn I was incredibly mistaken. The fact that they were all dressed like they were going on a date should have been a clue.

Then things began to get even more confusing. Karen, a stuck-up colleague and assistant dean who lived a couple of blocks away from me, went into Amy's house just before dinnertime; she was dressed in a mini-skirt, which was very unlike her. It was so short that I could see the tops of her lace top thigh highs (which, for the record, I was now wearing too... loving the sexiness of them even under my rather boring professorial attire). I wasn't being snoopy (okay I was), but I kept a watch out for her to leave. She did... almost two hours later... which would have been a super long therapy session... although I couldn't fathom why she would need therapy, she was the most well-balanced person I knew, even if she was a bitch.

When she was leaving, I grabbed my purse as if going out for a drive, and cried out, "Hey Karen, what are you doing here?"

She looked at me, her cheeks instantly going red as if caught in the act. After a pause, she said, "I just started seeing Amy."

"Oh, why?" I asked.

She again hesitated, obviously hiding something, "Just dealing with a few things."

"You can always talk to me," I pointed out.

"I know," she nodded, "it's just something I'm not comfortable sharing with anyone."

"Um, okay," I said, kind of hurt she wasn't sharing it with me... I thought we were friends... although in all truth I hadn't shared my egg experience or my new toy revelations with her. I then asked about the elephant in the living room: "Why are you dressed so provocatively?"

"Oh this, nothing really," she said quite embarrassed but trying to be casual. "Amy was showing me how to dress a bit sexier for my self-esteem."

I nodded, since Amy had suggested the same thing for me... me instantly thinking I was living beside a young, pretty, black Dr. Ruth.

I joked, "Well, it definitely should work: guys will be all over you."

We chatted about next year's schedules briefly, before she walked home... looking more like a streetwalker than a dean.

Again, a subtle clue of what was forthcoming, but still I was clueless.

During this time, I experimented with all three vaginal toys, but ignored the butt plugs. The rabbit was my favorite, as it pleased me in the inside and on the outside... the double pleasure creating amazingly intense orgasms. The magic wand was great for the outside, and enhanced by a partnership with the vibrating egg, also created powerful orgasms. And when I wanted to get fucked... the suction cup dildo was a fun, albeit awkward toy. It was eight inches long and thick, much longer and thicker than Martin, and thus it really filled me. And for the first time ever, I came from getting fucked... even if it was a black dildo. It made me wonder if the problem was Martin's penis. I'd never considered the idea that size matters, Martin being the only man I'd ever been with... but perhaps it did.

That was on my mind when Martin and I went over to have some drinks at Amy's house a couple weeks after my weird egg orgasm with her.

The boys watched some sports and played pool in the basement, while we girls were upstairs drinking Amy's homemade wine (another of her many hobbies) and chatting. Amy was dressed in a red one piece dress and beige stockings, and I knew I was underdressed. She said, as we were already on our second glass of wine, "Jess, it's time to give you a makeover."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Let's shock the shit out of your hubby."

"How so?"

"Come upstairs to my room," she replied. As I followed her upstairs I noticed the back of her stockings had a seam going down the middle, making them somehow sexier. The seam was arrow-straight: class all the way.

Upstairs, Amy said, "Jess, we're about to make you look so fucking hot that your husband is going to take you home and pound the living shit out of you."

I blushed and joked, "Well, it's been two months."

"Fuck off," she sighed, "even after the lingerie?"

"I didn't wear it for him," I admitted.

"So you're as much the problem as he is," she summarised.

"I guess," I shrugged, before adding, "it's your fault, though."

"Mine?" she questioned.

"Yes, ever since I got those toys I've become obsessed with masturbation," I admitted.

"They are amazing," she sympathised, before ordering, "Get undressed. Take off all your clothes, let's take a really good look at you."

I hesitated, assuming she wasn't serious, asking, "Really?"

Amy, clearly lacking patience on this occasion repeated, "Yes, really. Now get undressed, we don't have all day." Her frustration was clear.

Slowly, I began unbuttoning my blouse. Amy, realizing my insecurity and awkwardness, reassured me, "Honey, you're a beautiful woman; you don't have to be shy." I took off my blouse and then slid off my long skirt. "Oh dear, pantyhose still. We really do need a makeover. Like I've told you before, pantyhose aren't sexy. Stay ups, garters and stockings... now they're sexual, so why are you not wearing anything we bought?"

"I thought today was just a casual hanging out," I defended.

"Always dress to impress underneath," Amy said, as she hiked up her much shorter skirt, showing me the tops of her stay up beige stockings. She then pointed accusingly at my toes and said, "and reinforced toe nylons? Honey, men love to see each toe displayed in sheer nylon. From now on you only buy sandal-foot stockings. Plus, you always have to have your nails painted. Mine are usually painted red: look."

I looked and had to admit that her toes in beige stockings and red-painted toenails did indeed stand out. I nodded, "They do look cute."

"Cute?" she asked, offended.

"I mean sexy," I quickly corrected.

"Yes, the tits and ass are the stereotypical hot spots for men, but a true sensuous woman of the world understands it's a complete package. Your hair, eyes, legs, fingernails and toenails and your fashion sense all need to combine in a package to stimulate and tease," she explained like a sexual guru.

I joked, "Yes, sensei."

She laughed, "I like that. She walked over to her closet and said, "Now get those granny pantyhose off, I've got just the thing for you."

I took off my pantyhose and waited in my bra and panties. Amy came back to me and told me to sit on the end of her bed. "At least you're wearing some of the bras and panties we bought."

"I was being a good Barbie," I joked.

"Now it's time for Barbie to get slutted up," she said, as she added, "Sit on the end of my bed."

I did, as she knelt before me revealing she was carrying a bottle of red nail polish. "Are you going to paint my nails?" I asked, even though it was obvious that was exactly what she was about to do.

Amy said, "Barbie Honey, let the makeover begin." As she did each toenail with delicate precision, caressing my foot with tenderness, which oddly had my vagina tingling, she continued to talk. She promised, "Jess, when I'm done with you, your hubby is gonna come in his pants. He's gonna fuck you so hard I'll hear your moans from my own house. You'll orgasm so hard, you'll quake with pleasure for hours." Amy heard my sigh and said, 'Honey, did you just sigh?"

"Um, yeah, it's just..."

"What, sugar? You can tell me anything."

"It's just, I've never orgasmed from sex with my husband. I always have to sneak in a masturbation after he falls asleep."

"Fuck off. He never gets you off?" she exclaimed, as shocked as she was the first time I'd revealed my lack of sexual activity.

"Never," I whispered, ashamed... always thinking it was my fault.

"I orgasm over and over again when Derek's big thick black cock hammers me. How big is Martin?"

"Um, I don't know exactly, under 5 inches."

"Fuck off, that wouldn't get me off either. Derek is almost nine inches of hard steel. And Martin doesn't ever get you off with his tongue, does he?"

"No, he says it's gross," I repeated from our last frank conversation.

"Sugar, having your pussy licked is not disgusting, it is beautiful, amazing, and fucking orgasmic. I'm going down there and telling your fucking husband right now he is not doing his job."

I panicked, forced into admitting the truth, that I was the one who thought it was gross, "No, no, no, he offered lots of times, but eventually gave in and agreed with me when I always said no!"

Amy sighed long and deep, as if facing an idiot child. She sat up tall and faced me, her lips inches from mine. "Honey," she said softly but with as much intensity as if she were yelling in my face, "You have to let him eat you. You deserve the pleasure." Amy grabbed a package from her bed and opened it. She moved to my leg and surprised me when she grabbed my leg and slowly, with such tenderness my panties went moist, slid a black stay up stocking onto my leg. She then did the other leg, even slower, and I, for the first time ever, was completely turned on by another women. At times her face was between my legs, which had me ever so briefly imagining her licking my pussy.

I wasn't remotely interested in women, at least not until now, but she was irresistibly persuading me with her intimate touches, sexy voice and utter sensuality.

Amy then moved her face up to me as if she was going to kiss me, but then moved her lips to my ear and whispered, "You look fucking gorgeous Jessica, good enough to eat." She breathed arousal into my ear for a few more seconds that seemed like an eternity, then stood up. She went back to the closet and returned with a black leather skirt, well skirt is a generous term for a piece of clothing that was the top quarter of any skirt I'd ever worn before. It made micro seem long. She ordered me, "Put this on."

"Um, no, I couldn't, I..."

"Right now sugar, I want to see what you look like dressed to fuck."

"Um."

"Now," Amy insisted with just a slight bit of extra force. Not wanting to annoy her, I took the skimpy piece of leather and put it on. "Turn around and model for me." I finished off my glass of wine, my third, and then twirled like a little schoolgirl. "Nice," Amy said, smiling.

"It doesn't even cover the top of my stockings, I could never go out anywhere like this," I protested, feeling totally slutty... kind of like Karen when she'd left the other day.

"Of course not," Amy replied. Thank God I thought, and then Amy added, "You obviously need a blouse." Amy went back to the closet, pilfered around and came back with a blood red blouse. I put it on and could barely button it up over my firm breasts. "Fuck, you look hot. Let's go downstairs and show the boys the new Jessica."

"God no," I objected in shock.

"God yes baby," Amy cooed. Amy poured the last of the wine into our glasses and I gulped mine down.

"Let's go," and Amy grabbed my hand and led me downstairs. As we reached the last stairway, I stopped; Amy looked me straight in the eye and said, "Honey, you need to do this. You've been sheltered from any real pleasure for way too long."

"But what about Derek?"

"Oh, he'll behave; seeing you dressed like this will get him hot, and then he'll take me upstairs and fuck me with his massive cock until I pass out from delirious orgasmic joy. I'm not being totally altruistic here. Now let's go."

Before I could reply, she continued, "Oh crap, you need some hot red lipstick to finish the ensemble." Before I could even think, she grabbed my head and kissed me hard. The original shock of her lips touching mine quickly shifted to sensual pleasure, and then quickly to disappointment as the she broke the kiss after only a few seconds. Amy smiled, "There, baby, now you have some nice messy red lipstick to match your fuck me attire." She then handed me a lipstick stick and shrugged, "I guess I could have just given you that, but wasn't that fun?" Without giving me any time to process what had just happened, she yanked me down the stairs. The boys were playing pool but stopped abruptly when we entered.

Martin's mouth dropped in shock and Derek just smiled and said, "Wow Martin, your wife got one of my wife's famous do-me-now makeovers. Jess, you look amazing." I wondered how often Amy did makeovers for women like me.

"Thanks," I replied, then showing a confidence I didn't know I had, I walked over to my husband and said, "Well honey, whadaya think, am I good enough to eat?"

Martin began to respond, "Um, wow..."

Amy interrupted, "Derek, did you know that Martin never goes down on his wife?"

Derek in mocking shock, "No..."

Martin regained a bit of his composure and defended himself, "Wait, I've offered, I... wait, what do you girls talk about when we aren't around?"

Amy walked over to Martin and responded, "Girl stuff, what do you boys talk about?"

Martin attempted to bumble his way through this when Amy broke the tension with another interruption, "Martin, take this hot piece of ass and give her a fucking tongue orgasm. Do you know she never orgasms with you inside her and then masturbates after you fall asleep? "

Martin, clearly surprised, said, "No! Honey, why didn't you tell me?"

Amy then took Derek's hand and said "Derek's got something to take care of upstairs. You two can find your way home when you're ready." Then she gave me a knowing smile and they left us alone.

Martin walked over to me and kissed me with a passion I hadn't felt since we were courting. He then lifted me up onto the pool table, pulled off my skirt and underwear, and after sliding his hands up my stockinged legs, he dove into to my already drenched pussy and started licking. Instantly I couldn't believe I'd refused this for all these years! The pleasure was amazing and so much different from when we made love. He licked and licked, and after only a couple minutes he triggered an orgasm so intense I squeezed his head between my legs and quaked with joy. Martin then dropped his pants, flipped me onto all fours and did me doggie style, something else we hadn't done in years... it usually being the missionary position for a couple of minutes and a deposit.

The next few minutes were amazing, and being fucked right after having an orgasm in someone else's house knowing they were upstairs fucking each other knowing we were down here doing the same made the whole experience more surreal. I felt his hand tense around my ass and knew he was about to shoot his load in me. He grunted and his cum filled my pussy, but this time instead of stopping he kept pumping in and out until I came again... that's right, believe it or not I actually came with Martin's cock fucking my pussy!... we then both collapsed on the pool table exhausted and in love. I looked at the clock: it had been only twelve minutes total from the time Amy and Derek had left, but it was the best twelve minutes of pleasure ever (well, the rabbit had been just as good), and I knew my sex life had changed forever. After a few minutes of recovery, we got dressed and went home; me still more or less dressed in Amy's scandalous clothes... I was carrying the skirt and thong in my hand. It was just next door, after all.