A PERFECT FALL 2018: A Suburban Mom

"Um, I..."

"Get your head out of your ass, Jess," she bluntly said, bluntness always one of her traits I appreciated. "Amy is my Mistress. Did you see that hot brunette who just left Amy's? Ten minutes ago I was fucking her with an 8 inch strap-on while she ate out Mistress Amy. "

"Karen, you didn't?"

"Jessica, come on. I know you saw Sarah eat out our Mistress. Did you know that Sarah will eat your pussy anytime you ask? "

"Um, as a matter of fact Amy did offer her..."

"Honey, you should take up the offer, Sarah has an amazing tongue. Better than any pathetic man can do. Now sugar, I've got to go have some dinner; I have a cute guest coming over tonight."

"Karen you can't, you have a reputation," I pointed out, understanding her implication of going from one lesbian affair to another in the same day. I mean she was single and free to do whatever she wanted in the privacy of her own home, but broadcasting it to me seemed a bit risky.

"Jessica, Amy has a power that is way more compelling than protecting some inconsequential reputation as a prim stay-at-home recluse. Plus Jessica, it isn't worth resisting. Someday soon you'll be at her house, on your knees, begging to eat her pussy. You'll be hammered from behind by Derek's massive rod, and you'll become a white slut for black men and women," she paused to stare into my shocked face, "and... you'll come over to my house, knock on my door, look into my eyes with your condescending smile gone forever and beg me to fuck you in the ass." She then grabbed me and shoved her tongue down my throat right there in the street. She broke away and said, "Three things, Jess. One, this conversation never happened; two, I can ruin your career if my secrets ever come out; and three, pay close attention Jess, because everything around you is changing."

I was speechless. Karen looked me in the eye and whispered, her tongue flicking my ear, "Penny for your thoughts, Jess." She then moved to my ear and smiled, "Trust me, there's no better feeling than submitting to Amy and tasting her sweet black pussy. One lick and you'll be hers just as completely as I am."

My body shivered at her hot breath and my pussy betrayed me, wetness gushing into my new thong.

As I stood there weak and disheveled, she added, "Just submit Jessica, just submit like the submissive that you are." She then walked away in an outfit no college employee, especially an assistant dean, should ever wear in public. I stared at her with my mouth open until she finally disappeared from sight a block and a half away.

Undeniably horny, even though I didn't know why, I went inside, slammed the suction cup black dildo against my bedroom wall and furiously bounced back onto it (my husband golfing all weekend a couple hours away), taking all eight inches and wondering what something even bigger would feel like.

As I fucked myself, I reflected on everything that had indeed changed since Amy moved in beside me. There was, of course, the fact of Karen and Sarah, and Amy's parade of schoolgirls coming in and out, but there were many more. The way Amy talked, dressed, the way she'd made me play slutty dress up that day. The way she touched me and kissed me. It did turn me on, but I wasn't a lesbian. I wouldn't submit. But I wouldn't have to be a lesbian to fuck Derek, maybe just in a fantasy. I wondered what a ten inch black dick would look like... how it would taste... how it would feel in the back of my throat...

I was nearing my orgasm in just a couple of minutes of riding the big black fake cock when I was startled by Karen asking, "Whatcha doing, Jess?"

I froze, opened my eyes and saw Karen leaning against my bedroom doorway still wearing her slutty outfit, but now also wearing a teasing smirk.

I quickly moved forward disengaging from the cock, stammering, "W-w-what are you doing here?"

"I just came to finish our conversation," she said. "Although it looks like you're already addicted to black cock, so you've reached another milestone."

"It's just a toy," I said, standing up and then stumbling as my leg gave out.

"Clearly you're ready to submit," she said, looking at me with amusement.

"Why? Because I was masturbating?" I asked, annoyed by her pretentiousness.

She corrected, "No, you were fucking yourself with a big black cock, fantasizing about Derek. I imagine that wall cock is bigger than Martin's."

"A toy," I insisted, ignoring her accurate comparison of the toy vs Martin. And how had she guessed it was Derek I was fantasizing about?

"True, the real thing is much better," she said.

"If you say so," I replied, the conversation awkward, as was the wetness dribbling down my leg... my orgasm had been interrupted mere seconds before it was ready to burst forth.

"Jess, you can't really be that dumb," she said, shaking her head as if I were some insipid student.

"Oh, please explain it to me," I asked, my tone dripping with sarcasm.

"First off, you need to realize that most, if not all, white women are submissive and want to be controlled. History demonstrates this. Women stayed home while their men looked after them. Although times have changed, some things don't. Deep down, white women need to be dominated and they gravitate to powerful people; now since black women are naturally dominant, just compare their family interactions to ours, it isn't surprising that attractive powerful women like Amy can take their pick of the white slut litter. White women like us will beg and grovel just to be allowed to lick delicious black pussy," she explained.

"That is ridiculously racist," I said, even though there was evidence of her claim based on the parade of white women going in and out of Amy's house. Not one of them had been a black woman. There'd been a couple of Asians and Puerto Ricans... but the majority were as white as white.

"How so?" Karen asked. "I'm just explaining the truth."

When I didn't say anything, unsure what to say, she asked, "Should I call Sarah over here? She's on call to lick my pussy whenever I want. She won't mind my sharing her, I think she even likes you."

"I'm okay," I said, shaking my head, even as I envisioned having an on call pussy pleaser... someone to just lick my pussy and leave sounded pretty cool (if it wasn't cheating).

"Why are you even here?" I asked.

"I wanted to see if our earlier conversation had any impact, and obviously it did."

"Yes, seeing you dressed as a slut got me all hot and bothered," I said sarcastically, although I wasn't even sure what exactly had gotten me so horny.

"I know you think you're being sarcastic, but the reality is that your body is beginning to control your mind," she said.

"Thanks, Dr. Ruth," I replied, continuing my sarcastic defense which hopefully was hiding my inner confusion. The idea of having Sarah lick me was still front and center in my head and was turning me on.

"And you're my future pet," she smiled, moving forward and again kissing me.

I didn't move away at first, her lips so much softer than Martin's.

But after a few seconds I pushed her away and said, completely confused, "Please, just go."

"Okay," she shrugged, "but I'm looking forward to the time when you'll be begging me to fuck that tight ass of yours. It shouldn't be much longer before you do."

I didn't say anything and she left, my head spinning.

As I stood there, she startled me again when she reappeared in my doorway and said, "By the way, have you noticed anything different about your daughter of late?"

Before I could respond, she walked away again.

I didn't move until I heard my front door slam, and then I collapsed on my bed... processing her last words.

As I reflected on Becky, I realized she had indeed started to dress differently the past few days. Gone were her sport shorts and sweats, replaced by short skirts, sundresses and pantyhose. This should have been an obvious sign, yet I'd just assumed it was her finally discovering her sexuality (which ironically was exactly what it was but in a much, much more accelerated way than I could have ever imagined).

She'd also started hugging me more and giving me kisses on the cheek.

I went to her room to snoop, and noticed that her stockings weren't pantyhose, but rather they were hold up stockings and they were all sandal foot. I worried, No, please don't tell me Amy has my daughter.

The more I thought, the more unlikely it appeared. Becky was at school all day, had practice after school, and was always home for supper. She went out occasionally, but I would've noticed if she was going next door all the time.

Yet I needed to investigate.

When Becky came in that night I watched her closely. I wanted to know if anything was different. She came in, dressed in dark beige stockings, a pink skirt and white blouse. This was relatively new as usually she came home in her volleyball gear, not bothering to change after practice but rather showering when she got home. She came in and gave me a hug and this time her hands ended up on my ass. They lingered there a moment and as she kissed my cheek I could smell pussy on her breath.

Shortly after she left for a movie that night, still dressed way too sexy for a night at the movie theatre, I headed over to Karen's. We were friends... well, acquaintances may be a better descriptor; but she would tell me the truth. I knocked on the door and she answered it in a robe. When she saw it was me she smiled and asked, "Are you here for that ass fucking?"

"God no," I stated, "But I need your help."

Karen shrugged and said, "Come on in." I followed her in and after closing the door she dropped the robe to the floor. She was dressed in a white garter and stockings and her only other garb was a large strap-on cock. "Okay honey, what can I do you for?"

Although I already knew Karen was very attractive, I'd never realized how perfect her body was. Large firm breasts, nice legs, green eyes and beautiful long flowing red hair. She was short, not even 5 feet, but she was a powerful package. Breaking away from staring at her body I asked, "Why are you wearing a cock?"

"Because I was fucking someone when you knocked," Karen stated matter-of-factly.

"Oh, I can come back later, Karen," I apologised and started to leave.

"Don't be silly, she can wait."

"Um, ok, but I'm still going to leave," I said, getting uncomfortable.

Karen blocked the door and said, "Oh no, first tell me what I can do for you."

"Fine," I stated, "Do you know if Amy has seduced my Becky?"

Karen smiled, an evil Queen from Snow White smile, and said, "Not that I know of. That said, everyone who meets Amy succumbs to her powers if she wants them to. And your daughter is one hot little piece."

"You're sure Amy never said anything?" I asked, ignoring the fact that a college official was talking about my daughter like a perverted male.

"I'm sure," she said, moving right in front of me. "Now do you want to come see me fuck my new pet?"

"No, I gotta get going," I said, although I was curious who her new pet was.

Karen ignored my protest, pushed me against the wall and asked, "So Jessica, are you like most of the female professors at school? Do you want to be dominated?"

"No," I shook my head shocked by her sudden aggressiveness.

Karen ignored my answer as she continued, "Now a girl like you Jessica, your mind tells you that this is wrong, that you aren't a lesbian, yet your body says differently. I know for a fact that if I shoved my hand in your panties right now they'd be drenched."

Frustratingly she was right, as I realized my panties were indeed well beyond damp, perhaps because I could feel her fake cock poking my thigh just below my pussy.

"Want me to fuck you right here, right now?" she asked, and when I didn't reply, she just breathed hot breath against my neck... my vulnerable area.

"N-n-no," I stammered, my head spinning at what was happening as I pushed her away and got out of there before I succumbed to her.

I scurried home, locking the door this time, went to my room and finished what I'd begun hours ago... coming twice from the big black suction wall cock... the first time an image of Karen wielding her strap-on into me swimming through my head, while the second orgasm came as an intense eruption when I let go and let my mind take me on a submissive journey, as I imagined walking into Amy's house the next day and succumbing like so many others seemed to be doing.

I imagined being told to lick her pussy... something that hadn't intrigued me at all until Karen had whispered in my ear.

I imagined being bent over and fucked by Amy with a big strap-on.

I came as I imagined Amy making me beg to take it in my virgin ass as, oddly, my daughter Becky was watching.

The orgasm ripped through me like Hurricane Irma before I collapsed on the floor, a leaking orgasmic mess.

As I cleaned up my toy, I shook my head at what I'd just fantasized... Especially my daughter's appearance in the fantasy.

I need to control myself... I'm a married woman.

It was then I decided I wouldn't go over there tomorrow and tempt the gods.

6. THE FALL

Yet after dithering endlessly back and forth the entire sleepless night (including two self-induced orgasms in hopes they would push the many naughty ideas from my head), when the morning arrived my curiosity and weakness got the best of me as last night's resolution faded away like inconsequential mist.

I spent a great deal of time getting ready, wanting to impress Amy, although not sure what I was impressing her for. I wore black stay-ups, a black skirt with a relatively revealing slit on the side, a thong and a satin red blouse. Checking myself out in the mirror I could clearly see the shape of my excited nipples pressing against the satin, since I'd decided to be daring and not wear a bra.

Full of anxiety and trepidation... mixed with undeniable intrigue and horniness, I headed over to Amy's house for my one o'clock session. I wasn't sure what to expect... I also wasn't sure if I'd have enough guts to question her about Becky's transformation...

I walked in like I always did, and Amy smiled at me from the kitchen where she was pouring herself a glass of water. She was dressed in a white skirt and for the first time ever, white nylons (ironically the white woman was wearing black and the black one was wearing white), a flower patterned blouse and no shoes. She also had her toenails painted purple, which really stood out in the white nylons. She acknowledged, "Wow sugar, you dressed up rather hot for coffee."

I joked, "Well everyone else who comes for your therapy sessions seems to arrive all dressed up."

Amy chuckled with a wicked smile, "In that case you may be overdressed."

I laughed back, "I have noticed some pretty provocative outfits coming and going from here."

"It's part of the training," she said, as she grabbed my hand and led me down a hallway and into an office I hadn't noticed before.

"Your office has a bed instead of a couch?" I asked, as I walked into an office that was larger than I expected it to be. It had filled bookshelves, a desk, a couple chairs, but a large bed instead of a couch.

"It's critical to make the patient as comfortable as possible for my unique training," she said, again using the word training instead of therapy.

"A bed seems a little less comfortable," I said, having never done a therapy session, but envisioning the stereotypical lying on the couch while the therapist sat in a chair with a clipboard.

"Oh, I'd argue it's much more comfortable," she corrected. "But we needn't argue, in a moment you'll be able to judge for yourself."

"I suppose," I said, staring at the king-sized bed.

"My methods are unorthodox, but by the time I'm done with you, you'll be a brand new woman," she said, guiding me to the bed.

"Okay," I nodded, a bit nervous, especially with the reality that I knew Karen and she had shared sex... and there was still the issue of my daughter's new fashion sense.

"Now lie on your back with your head on the pillow," she instructed.

I did.

"First I'm going to help you get comfortable," she said, slipping off my heels.

"Thanks," I joked. "I'm still not used to heels that high."

"Then why did you wear them to come over here?" she asked, as she sat on the end of the bed and began to massage my left foot.

"I don't know," I answered, as I let out a light moan... always loving having my feet massaged, knowing there were many erogenous pleasure points in the soles of people's feet.

"Did you wear them to impress me?" she asked, her hands like a magic wand of relaxation.

"I don't know," I repeated, even though that was definitely why. After dressing in an outfit way too sexy for a therapy session, I'd gone to my closet and grabbed my new five inch heels instead of something practical.

"I think you do know," she said, her voice not argumentative but soft and soothing, her hands moving up to my calf.

"I guess," I said.

"You guess or you know?" she probed, always able to make me reveal the inner thoughts I wasn't comfortable talking about.

"I know," I admitted, as she seemed to be lulling me into a meditative state with her soft tone and her tender hands.

"What do you know?" she asked, probing deeper, so unlike a normal friend who allowed me to stay in my conservative shell and never asked the tougher questions.

I sighed.

She continued, her tone still soft but now with a clipped authoritative diction, "For this to work, Jessica, you need to be one hundred percent forthcoming and honest with me. I plan to get inside that cluttered up head and find the real you."

"Okay," I agreed, excited and nervous as she moved her hands to my other foot.

"Understand, Jessica, I know what's best for you," she said, "this is what I do," which would sound condescending if said by 99 percent of women, yet out of her lips it just seemed the truth... just as it had been on the day she'd dressed me up and rekindled my sex life with Martin.

'I understand," I agreed, deciding to trust her completely.

"So one more time, why did you dress so incredibly sexy for this session?" she asked, massaging each toe through my sheer hosiery.

"I wanted to impress you," I admitted.

"Good. Why?"

I truly didn't completely know the answer to this question, but tried to explain it. "Um... because I want to fit into your world and receive your approval."

"I see," she said. "Now I'm going to ask you some very personal questions and I expect complete honesty. You're not allowed to hide things from me. Not anything. Is that clear?"

"Yes," I agreed, thinking I'd already revealed most of my sex life to her anyway. I really didn't have any further secrets. I was wrong.

"Are you wet right now?" she asked, her hands gliding slowly up my leg.

I was expecting a sex question of some sort, but this one floored me. Yet, I definitely was. Not soaking wet, but a little damp and getting wetter from her touch... the idea of sexually submitting to Amy lingering in the back of my head as I suddenly imagined her spreading my legs and burying her face between them. I wasn't sure I could allow that if the opportunity arose, but I could no longer confidently say I wouldn't, either. Amy was completely intoxicating with her hypnotic eyes, luscious lips, amazing body and seductive voice. Following the rules of hundred percent honesty, I said, "I am, a little."

"Good girl," she said, in a soft voice... not in a condescending way, but one that felt natural and soothing.

Oddly I felt compelled to respond, and did. "Thank you."