The Texas Teddy Bear Incident by Annie Anklets

[archives]

The archive site dropped all of Betty's story archives from the 1990s a few years ago. Now I'm noticing a few of our 2000-2001 stories also vanishing. So I'll repost the ones that I think may be at risk of being lost soon.

The Texas Teddy Bear Incident by  Annie Anklets (2001)

Part 1

Dear Miss Lil'.........

This is your life sweet sissy-lover.
I am about to describe what would happen between us were I to fly in to your hometown for an exotic rendezvous.

"And so it begins...
...........As you head out the door of your workplace you are holding back at once
a grin and a good helping of anxiety. This is probably the first time you have lied about a reason for taking the afternoon off. AND this is only the second or third time you have worn your white anklets and mary janes together to work and you are feeling lightly self conscious about it. You wore them over black tights with a tartan pleated short skirt - thinking the tights would conceal the school girlishness bare legs would heighten. You chose a conservative white long sleeved shirt with a bolero length black suit top - double breasted but the buttons are black rather than gold which would have - you think - make you look too top heavy with those great breasts. You think everyone can tell the anklets are a sex object. My god EVERYone's eyes were darting to them all morning - every time someone approached you their glance would head to your totally affected feet. You were surprised at the delight it gave you. ...so precious and vulnerable.
As the door closes on your car you sit there a minute - pausing in the heat of the day without turning on the AC. You know what you plan next and it gives you wet shivers of excitement as you begin to perspire - the adrenaline builds as the shoes and socks come off and you twist the tights to your ankles - then extract and toss them to the back seat with abandon and rebuild your pretty feet. Now you are hopelessly bound in your "innnocent?" preciousness. Your freshly and completely shaved pussy accentuates this. You reflect on your teddy bear's glee filled reaction when you announced you were going to shave it - to see "what it felt like". Now you pull your skirt up an extra two inches or so - much higher than it should be. Your coat conceals the higher waist and you know you could not bend over the slightest degree without flashing some white panty. You unbutton the top three buttons of your shirt. A bubble of wet pushes forward into your panty front... you smile and turn on the engine. As you pull out of the parking lot you decide you must stop at the drug store first - not so much because you need something but because you feel the need to priss about in public like this - a prelude to marching up to the hotel desk and asking for a room number.

At the drug store you fuss about, lost in what the hell you are going to pick up.
--which doesn't really matter because it was the eyes you came to collect. "Hi, I'm Lil and I'm on my way to get f*cked silly!" But you must get something because you want to wait in that long line at the checkout so that eyes can linger. Your thighs have rarely felt this exposed - more naked than any beach experience. Your bare legs seem to go on forever as you catch a glimpse of yourself in a mirrored stack end. You spy a store clerk packing goods on a lower shelf as he sits on a cardboard box. You maneuver to present him with a view from the rear. White ankles together, you slowly bend over to a bottom shelf within a few feet of him in the same aisle. That extra tug you gave the rear of your cotton panties as you left the car pulled them high and tight enough to enfold them into the crack of your ample ass and explode the lower cheeks out the bottom. At least two inches of them are hanging out as you imagine the twitching going on in the lap of the box boy. You find yourself wondering how long you can hold this pose. At the checkout you experience the disdain of an older woman - a muffled sort of harummph expels from her but a middle aged older man is praising you with his eyes.

You shuffle to the car, the flash flash of the black-white black-white of your precious feet now a source of sexual excitement to you. F*ck me! F*ck me!
...they seem to cry out. Oh you sordid truck drivers rushing by.. take me to a highway rest stop and do with me as you please.

For a moment you can't remember where the Hilton is from here...

Part 2

...the desk clerk says. "Mr. Phallic will meet you in conference suite 300 but he asks you to relax here for a bit until he calls down. He is engaged at the moment.
"engaged?", you ponder quietly. "harummph" you echo the drug store lady. "...conference suite?"
You take a lobby sofa and eye the crowd. Its around 12:30 and the remainder of the check-out guests have absorbed the landscape about you - and sadly... paying no attention to you - as if you are off-stage. As you reach for a newspaper, your moist half bare pantied ass caressing the saddle tan leather sofa you contemplate putting your feet up on the table. You do it for a second or two and more than one guest trains their eyes right on them. "These things have power" you say to yourself as you put them back down.

Then you notice one gentleman in particular in conversation with another His all black suit and matching mock turtleneck are obviously expensive. He is tall and slim, around 6 feet, wearing shiny low cut black probably italian loafers with no socks. The flashes of ankle reveal a fine tan. You muse that he belongs in your art crowd. His hair is salt and pepper and cut like a Roman senator - likely frosted you think for his face is too young to be naturally graying.
AND... he keeps glancing your way.

(I have purposely arranged for my first sight of you to be annoymous such that i can view your demeanor in public - relish you like any other stranger. Plus, this unexpected wait will surprise you and keep you off balance - for off balance is where i want you.)

The interesting stranger disappears into the elevator lobby. After some 20 minutes or so the adrenaline you built up since leaving the office has largely subsided only to be re-awakened as the desk clerk walks up to you. "He will see you now - third floor, Room 300 - go right off the elevator, ma'am." Again a spit of moisture pops into your panties just as he speaks, producing a wider smile than you might otherwise have offered. You wonder if the sound of it was audible. You take your time rising from the sofa - trembling a bit. As you reach back down for your purse you glance back at the leather to see if you left any evidence. You decide it looks a bit shinier in just the right spot - whether or not it really does.

The elevator door opens immediately. You are startled - even frightened by that. You needed a moment to catch your breath. Well.. here goes! The slut muffin has landed. The door to Conference Suite 300 is standing open and you waltz in confidently...closing the door behind you but not locking it. Again you are surprised - not a hotel room - really is a conference sort of room - with a bar, stools, 5 or 6 gatherings of tables and chairs. The walls are lined with soft leather banquette seating. "Make yourself a drink" ...the voice from an adjoining room is deeper than you imagined. You find glasses, ice, bottled water, lime slices. You see some liquor but opt to not. "Make me something too", comes the voice. You grin. You had already started on the second glass. "Want booze?" you shout. At once, you realize this is the first exchange of real words out of your mouth to this internet fairy queen and regret them as you fruitlessly dwell on whether or not your tone was wierd or what.
"No thanks!"

Part 3

.....suddenly - inexplicably - the room darkens. Remote controlled shades descend. The shutters on a presentation screen disappear into the wall. You giggle. From somewhere, unobserved a slide projector comes on and Annie images begin to deploy - all new ones to you and at a rapid pace - until they become too fast to really understand. Your diverted attention keeps you from noticing the figure that has crept into the frame of the adjoining doorway.
"Hi!"
"Well!" you say. "uh Hi!"
Only my height assures you that this is the gentleman in black from the lobby. Your eyes quickly gather information about what I'm wearing.
Before you can inventory it all: the ultra short pleated black skirt with a certain massive erection poking its way toward the hemline in white cotton panties and severly adjusting the angle of skirt fabric, the tailored crisp white blouse cut off just above the belly button lovingly offered to view, that familiar neck length brown hair tied up in back with a comb, white lycra anklets with a touch of sheen all too carefully cuffed over Candies "F*ck Me shoes - those heeled open toe no back pumps and the light touch of gold chain bracelet and tiny round white dome shaped earrings... I move right into your face and softly lower my lips full onto yours. You practically let go and dive in but hold back somewhat out of the surprise of all this and a triple coc-ktail of other emotions.

Part 4

.. the embrace slowly ends and i back away; moving towards the picture show wall, remote in hand ostensibly to close the shutters but much more eager for you to dwell on my ripe ass, lifting my skirt as i turn, and in doing so reinforce your opinion that men with flat butts should ALL have to pay higher taxes or be exiled to Illinois or whatever.
"LOVE what your're wearing Lil!"
"Ummm and vice versa" you say as your mind fights to get something out while that fine protrusion in the front of my skirt takes over the vast body of your mental awareness.

Small talk and laughter now preside as you describe the drug store incidents, etc.
"Oh yes. They DO have power don't they?" I say, eyeing your lovely feet as they dangle from the bar stool. One of your mary janes drops its hold on your heel and most of your dainty white foot is airing its beauty for me.
"One of natures ironies that something as innocent as little white socks and cute shoes should have the strength to command such attention."
You are sitting backwards on the bar stool with coc-ked legs and a glimpse of white just visible to me below the hemline from where I'm standing. Wanting more I adjust my position until at last I'm beside you. Assuming that's the reason I shifted, you move your butt backwards on the seat exposing more and more panty until the upper seam of the tight cotton plain white bikini briefs are visible to me.
... my taut ripe c*ck in its white cotton glory and creeping beyond the skirt is within breathing distance of your thighs.
"How long has it been like that?" you ask as you drink it in with full eyes.
"Oh, I guess about 20 years."

Your smart white ass is now projecting obscenely from the bar stool, your arms and the most forward part of your groin are now bearing almost all of your weight as you "sit". You know it. You love it. And you briefly reflect on the fact that this scene, built by you, could control statehouses and boardrooms if given just the right exposure. SO much power in such a soft smooth white package.
"Gift wrapped" i think to myself.
One of my fingers begins to dance in the cleavage of it. First lightly and then with greater precision. You swoon a bit and notice that the fabric coating the bar stool is exactly the same tan leather as the sofa in the lobby. You wonder how shiny ITS going to get as you feel the lips of your pussy begin to slide more easily against one another.

Part 5

.......two of my fingers move down on the outside of your panties in the crack of your ass deliberately and without apology moistening themselves in your perspiration during the process. My swollen softly covered c*ck leisurely brushes against your thigh from under the skirt - too many times to be accidental and your hands can't quite decide when to let go of the glass. My fingers find your a*sshole, through the fabric, and begin to trace little circles around it slowly honing in on its tiny lips, now protruding a bit, thanks to the jutting position you have allowed yourself. This goes on forever as I watch your face slowly move ...chin up and chin down until at last the glass leaves your hand and crashes to the floor beyond the bar. My fingers leave you like this for a moment as if to reflect on the glass but actually to give you pause and allow you to reflect on what has just happened - if only briefly.

Now both my hands return - this time to your legs - and wander up and down them softly at first and then with possession in mind. You feel both of them at once on both legs. Down the calves to your anklets, over your shoes, then back up - way up to your upper thighs. Again and again. Hands that are doing exactly what you wished someone would have done earlier when YOU saw yourself barelegged in the car, in the drugstore mirror. How nasty it feels to be allowed to exhibit your naked legs in a short skirt - like someone forgot to make it illegal. ..your panties - within millimeters of sight to all. ...that you can sit there in your car in this delightfully twee footwear with white flesh all about it and your skirt bunched up around your waist, panties in full display as other drivers sit next to you at the light.

You grasp my dic-k. It had to happen. And it feels good to you. It feels SO good.
Hard and straining against the cotton. You need it and you knead it. You are
its liberator... you can let it loose into the wild. I feel your hands, now perspiring liberally, reach for the waist band of my skirt. In one swift motion it is unbuttoned, unzipped and streaming down my long legs. The fullness of my c*ck springs forward in the pantied shell - white and NOT innocent. Still seated as before you feel my hands return to your panties as you fool lasciviously with mine. I back off for a second to remove my skirt fully ...losing one of my shoes in the process. You smile as I return it to my feet. I can't help but linger at this allowing you to examine how proudly my stiff c*ck juts out in the panties at obscene angles. Here is a picture. Here is something you would enjoy exhibiting to girlfriends in a saturday night bar. This is something you wish you could walk around with in public in some odd society that permitted it. ..to the supermarket ...to the mall ..to the office party This is a picture you will retain - you think to yourself.

Part 6

Now I'm beside you as you grope me and pull me into your thighs from the side my fingers return to your a*sshole - this time crawling beneath the fabric to fully feel those pouting butt-lips. The finger dance rages faster and then slides farther down - returning briefly with some wet from that hot well beneath the whole assembly whose voice is louder than your own. Your grip is fearsome and your face is sweating. Your left hand is grappling with the remainder of buttons on your blouse. I catch your eyes with mine and slowly drag my c*nt soaked fingers across my rubied lips and then into them. "UNnnhhhh" you say, unable to divert your eyes from mine. The blouse loosely falls off your shoulders uncovering a bra with a scolloped lace front that has no clue as to how to hold those mammoth breasts in position.

My hand reaches under your crotch and pulls you back off the stool by grasping the soaking wet front of them. You spring off onto your feet but still lean over the bar at an angle that asks a question. I stand beside you admiring this while your jerky hand continues to massage the length of that unusual toy nature gave me. Then I move around in back of you and reach under to assist the bra with my hands. The f*cking hard-on is now nestling its cotton clad length along your butt crack while my efforts in front of you fail and one of your sweet tits flops loose onto the bar as if to play cleanup to the glass sweat left on the Formica.
You shout something at me - something like "NOW - YOU PRICK" but I'm too busy or too f*cking nonchalant at the moment to care. I am literally absorbed in your wet cotton panties. I heave them up your crack both in the front and the back
and seesaw them back and forth tickling your cl*t and all its fine attendants with the fabric. My bobbing c*ck has inched over the waist band just enough to let the oozing head breathe fresh air. Your dainty footwear is catching shafts of sunlight from the missclosed shades and are like heroin to my eyes.

You feel the sopping wet half destroyed panties of yours moving off your ass and down to your midthighs. My great jacking c*ck, still wrapped, is suddenly tickling your lower calves. You grasp your now unattended tits, still washing the counter top and you feel something wet about your asshole. My entire tongue
pierces the doorway and eases itself inside producing a heat in you that brings sweat drops from your forehead that stream around your temples and cause your glasses to slide down your nose. You moan with a whimper. Your mind is gone at this point and you picture yourself as a hot Mexican teenager wallowing in bed with a half dozen brothers. You can't stop this thought with my tongue up your ass.

But as quickly as it started it stops. The fantasy too. Then you feel just the head of my cotton clad c*ck enter your slobbering pussy from behind - in an inch - out an inch - 30 some strokes before I raise you upright and turn you around to face me. We stand there looking at each other for a moment, your panties now at your ankles, your bra under your tits, my panties wet at the tip of my c*ck, those silly heels of mine, our matching socks, my blouse in disarray with part of a cotton bra peeking out, my lipstick smeared with ass juice. You swoon, bend at the knees like a runner at the end of a marathon and move your plump lips over the end of the wet bobbing panty clad dic-k! You smell yourself - that unique pungent aroma neither good nor bad - just ripe and confirmatory that you are engaged in "getting f*cked mister!". You explore the pantied dic-k with your mouth finding its veins and ridges and the wonderful bloated cap on the end of it oozing out its welcome sign. The angle out from my body is 30 degrees North of the horizon - just perfect for you as you sit in that stoop with your gleaming shaved pussy hovering over the slacked panties at your ankles.

Part 7

...eventually i raise you up then stoop down to extract your panties and ball them up in my hand. "You might want to wring them out" you laughingly say. I strip off my blouse and pull you to me in a light hug just long enough to feel those great sweating breasts pressing against the skin just below my brassiere. I take your hand and escort you into the adjoining room. Me in front, you tailing me, groping my pantied ass with the free hand. You are somewhat dumbstruck and reeling but with enough cognitive function to be aware that something new is about to happen. A sliver of fear in the mix.

To your surprise we pass the bed and head to a wall where I stream back the curtains to reveal a patio door. We pass into the harsh sunlight and out onto a balcony. You have lowered the back of my panties to below my cheeks. The front is distended and grossly obscene considering the rest of the way i'm dressed. With a glance it is clear to you that we can do this unobserved here - the only high rise building nearby is far too distant to pick us out without a telescope. I lay you down on one of those armless totally horizontal chaise longues with 4" vinyl flowered cushions - first you are outstretched and then I move around to stand at your head and bend down to pull your legs into the air - the queer little white socks and prissy shoes waving in the air.

My pri*ck is now completely dislodged and buffeting the side of your face as i hold you with both hands by your ankles. Not being able to see it fully you look up into my face as if to ask for it to come on stage nibbling at my still pantied testicles in the process. My mouth looks odd and that bundle of white cotton you wore all day is poking through my lips. I bend down to your face and let you pull the panties out of my mouth with your teeth. As the panties spread out we both root at it with our noses Then i move over you my head driving toward the smooth plump crack between your legs while my c*ck pushes the panties off your face and aligns itself with your nose. My lightly perfumed crotch is now unwholesomely engaged in finding a seat on your face while my mouth closes over those slick labia of yours and plows into their moist folds. You take me into your own mouth up until you can taste the ridge of the major vein that courses along the length of it. It fills you only as full as you want to be fed and you relax, confident that this lover knows the boundaries.

I can't get enough of your moisture. I gorge myself on it running my tongue up and down the furrow until at last I feel suitably sopped enough to greet your clitoris. You buck as my mouth hits it for the first time and then spread your legs wider to welcome more. You are having a difficult time concentrating on two things at once now and you let go of my c*ck from your mouth to focus on this activity from my tongue. More bucking. Terrible teasing mixed with full blown cl*t suc-king back and forth. Bucking and squeezing my head as the rush in your loins cries that the first orgasm is just around the corner. suc-king and bucking. And then it is there, no stopping it, it just came and came and came. The light effusion fills my nostrils and i suc-k you full up and relax on your now all too tender cl*t.

Part 8

....I step away momentarily and pull up a chair next to you as you stretch out on the cushion and rest your head on a coc-ked elbow. You are grinning in a way that only lovers have seen. I dart back into the hotel room and return quickly with some water with ice in a single glass that we both share as i pop myself into the chair and pull my feet up to the seat edge. My c*ck remains rigid and the view you now have of it is now so f*cking nasty and bizarre with the shoes and all that you feel a sense of pride that you are the audience. How many will EVER see this? "Wish i had a Polaroid with me" you say staring straight at IT. Its a nice seven maybe seven and a half inches long - one never knows exactly where to place the ruler. The bottom vein is thick and luxurious and the testicles, rather than ponderous, appear young and clean and groomed as if that were possible. There's not a hair on it and as you sip the water you contemplate whether or not you prefer it like this.

]You lightly finger everything even running a forefinger about my anus which also is as hairless as a Life Saver. "I want to F*UCK you" you say loudly. "Don't you think it's about time?"
I point to the base of my c*ck and say "Yeah, this part wants juicey."
You rise up and pull me off the chair and push me down to the cushion on my back. "Williem de la Pole" is pointed heavenward. You grab it in one hand and swing your leg over the chaise as i watch your prissy feet join the trail. In seconds I am in you. IN YOU. One inch, two inches, three inches, four, five until at last you rest onto the base. You feel full. You like feeling full. You have always liked feeling full. The connection with your lover is complete and there is no better feeling. You have him deep. Deep.

You begin to rise and fall. The friction trickles along your vagina walls - all sides and you briefly bring up memories of those whose equipment couldn't quite maintain even pressure on all walls at once. There's that familiar rush in company of it and when you hit bottom its almost too much ...but that sweet press of your cl*t against my pubic bone is worth it. You are dancing in a light wind, partially shaded by the canopy over the patio, arms up and away locked behind your head, your fine breasts wagging at me as you twist about exploring the gorging capacity of my c*ck. Right now you could approve if CNN had a camera trained on you from the rear. The pouting b*tthole so nasty dancing over the action just underneath while you kneel with your innocent white feet and cutesy shoes hugging my thighs. You look back at them, kick off your shoes and bring one white nylon ankleted foot forward under my armpit. "You love it, don't you?" you whisper without expecting an answer.

Your lower belly is shiny with sweat. The friction and cl*t raking is taking a toll and with a strong shudder and an "Aaraaccchhhh!" yelp you give into a second convulsion that courses along the vagina walls just as one of my fingers penetrates your asshole. I catch you just as you experience the release for your body appears limp and near faint from this one - the blood rushing to your face. "Gawd, somebody MUST have heard THAT one!" you say. "This is ONLY the 3rd floor!" I giggle and conjecture on whether there could be people on a nearby balcony and if so would they have the courage to speak up. You rise off me and stand there not knowing what to do next and far from concern over it. I bounce up and move toward the sliding door turning to the side to let you see my shiny wet and still hard prick. I love being seen like this. I remove my dangling bra. My hairless chest revealing sweat covered little nipples all pointy and precious. I pull you to me and hug you again as earlier which you find a bit queer, maybe inappropriate, but certainly endearing.

Part 9

..I bring you back into the conference area and restore your blouse removing the bra entirely; restoring your crisp skirt but without panties. I even hand you the coat which you quizzically put on thinking "It's not over ...is it?" I seat you at one of the tables. In just my heels and anklets I move to the bar and prepare us both a coc-ktail donning a tiny white nylon apron which overlays my c*ck just enough to allow only the head to be exposed. Oddly I affix a white bracelet to my left wrist and then with tray in hand walk about with the drinks as if the tables are filled with others. At last I hone in on you and march up close enough for you to smell the sex juices on me. My nipples seem too red and you consider whether or not I've put lipstick to them which I have. I straddle the table, my legs dangling, my equipment flattened out and pointing straight at you.

We sip the drinks and i say "Looks like you won at spin the 'bottle' - doesn't it?" I ask, eyeing the direction of my c*ck. "Jeezus, ...more than that!"
You lean forward and grip the head of it between your lips. I inch forward to make it easier. You ride it with your face like some deranged trollop going up and down on her table candle at a sitdown restaurant. I begin to lose control of myself and buck your face, scattering your glasses off center. I grab you and wheel you over to the banquettes. Your skirt flops up in the process showing off those wet and nasty white hips with the reddened center area between. You look like a half bitten into chocolate covered cherry. My c*ck is bucking your mouth cheeks bloating one side and then the other as you sprawl out. Your tits keep bursting loose from the blouse and coat and then returning within the folds. I reach my hands into a seam in the cushioning and pull out a black plastic c*ck in a zip lock bag covered with some lubricant. I slowly shove it in and you begin to ride at both ends of your body. There's the friction in your c*nt all too perfect and the c*ck in your mouth all too nasty and there's time on your hands thanks to your preparations for this day and right now you don't give a f*ck if its ever going to end.

Seconds turn into minutes and just as you feel the budding itch of another orgasm struggling to emerge, I twist my c*ck out of your mouth and grab it with my right hand holding it steady. You replace my other hand on the dil-do with your own and begin to work at it yourself just as one would who wishes to convince you they have had more than enough practice at this. You stare at my dic-k. My hand begins its journey and with twenty or thirty strokes ...gobs of white c-um squirt you square on the nose your glasses your cheeks your lips now open and catching the remainder. The pace of your working hand is feverish. You have yet to finalize yourself and as I step back a bit you push me out of the way and rise up on your feet but bent over at the waist charging into your c*nt ravenously. "Bring me that itch" "Bring me that monster itch". You struggle around the room not knowing where you are going but stabbing that f*cker into you like you have never done this before in front of another human being. I watch you. I'm grinning from ear to ear. The shades go up - you can't believe it. You don't give a f*ck. You are hunched over with your skirt up to your waist in the back stomping about in a corner of the front of the room where sunlight hits you.

Out of nowhere I produce a large hand mirror and hunch down in front of you displaying to you your own face covered with dripping c-um from your queen's c*ck. The sight of it, with the blur from the mess on your glasses is too much and you collapse in the wildest fit I've ever seen ...into a wall. I think, not certain, you were saying the word nasty over and over again lightly under your breath before you screamed F*CK at the very end. The dil-do rolls on the floor like a stupid kid's toy. You are soaking wet all over and half lying half stooping on the furniture for at least five minutes.
I lick your face for you.

Part 10 - Conclusion

...by the time we get into the shower (you talked me out of taking you out in public with the c-um stains still on your face) we are all giggly and joking and breaking into silly songs - the pressure of knowing or not knowing is now just a pleasant memory.
"We are not done yet" I announce.
"Look I've got to get home and file a report on all this!" you insist. "As I promised." "What time is it?"
"3:30"
"Oh, ....well , what did you have in mind "Annie"?"
It's the first time you called me by name since you arrived and I am warmed by it.
"Well, I'd like to take you shopping!"
"You're kidding."
"Nope, and I will go as Mr. Phallic."
"Is that the name on your credit card?"
"Actually its... ( I reveal my real first name which is an unusually pleasant friendly first name that by pure happenstance could be either sex). This warms YOU. You pause, look directly into my eyes, and...
"That was really nice - thank you for sharing that with me! Now i feel i really know you... er closer ....er well sorta a lot more."
"Well, I've been wanting to. Dislike secrets that aren't naughty ones."

We dress without underwear - I get into my black suit. You find yourself somewhat intrigued with this "different" man in black. You have trouble getting the crusties off your glasses.

We find ourselves joking and talking all the way to your car, to a shopping mall. I buy you a sweater and we have multi-fun trying on and exchanging opinions and consorting with the store help to settle on the right one.
For certain you are comfortable being on my arm all twee-ed out in your outfit of the day, barelegged and pantiless with someone whose dress and deportment suggest that since I like you like this - they should.

You take me to the airport near 5:00. We exchange laughing goodbyes and hugs at curbside like a couple of gay sisters but at the last second you pull me up and squeeze me through my trousers. That's just fine because throughout the mall trip I took several opportunities to run my hand up the back of your skirt and sloppily caress those great naked luscious buns of yours (OOH! I'll never forget them - I could sleep in them 24/7!) - we are both certain that one of the store clerks noticed this.

Just as you are about to roll up the car window, I say, "Oh! Wait!"
I hand you a tiny gift box and dash off without looking back.
You watch me disappear - you stare at the little box in your hand (is it the Hope diamond?). You roll up the window ...stare at it again.
Then quickly unwrap it.........
..
....
..
a chocolate covered cherry..
with a little note that reads
"Teddy Bear's a lucky man"
this is for him.


----A n n i e A n k l e t s

--epiloque:

As each episode of this story arrived in Lil's email box she would comment back and forth, occasionally adjusting something to more firmly fit her fantasies. This "letter love making" experience progressed over a 2 day period. On the afternoon of the 2nd day - just before the last two episodes - she left her office "in heat" and dashed home to masturbate "herself silly" to the concluding scenes.
(items in parenthesis are hers)
-------
(the following is a copy of Lil's original email letter story to ME that spawned this whole exercise.)
-------
"I'm waiting for you in the lobby. I'm a total mess-
I'm nervous as hell and I keep tugging at and
straightening my new anklets. I wonder what part of
my body your eyes will linger over first. I resist
the urge to be naughty and show up pantyless, knowing
you might be disappointed that they're missing. When
we finally meet I'll act quite shy (and even blush!)
and submissive. But not too shy and not too
submissive as to be frustrating. The elevator ride up
to our room is crowded, but I still take the
opportunity to slyly brush my hand over your visible
hard-on. Once we're in our den of sin I'll plead
with you to show me, teach me, guide me in pleasuring
you. Then once you're comfortable taking on the role
of my sexual instructor, I'll shock you by doing a
complete 180 and taking complete control. I'm on top
of you, naked except for my anklets, bouncing up and
down on your fantastic c*ck like you were a
trampoline.

I'm multiorgasmic (luuuuuucky me) and
will come many times before I let you have your
release. When I feel like I'm ready to have my final
and strongest climax, you'll be ready to explode by
then, I'll position myself over your face as you lie
there and I'll bend over your c*ck, both of us
devouring each other until I come (that's right,
you're last) and while my pussy is still violently
shuddering, I make my way back to mounting you and
resume f*cking you until you explode into me. We
shower together and have a bit of a giggle afterwards
and decide to order room service for those post sex
munchies. Then maybe we do it again. Yay!

A bit conventional I know, but fun, fun, fun! What do
you make of it? How does your version of the story
go? Spare no details, I love saucy writing! I dare
you to make my pussy ache. Things you can throw in
that I absolutely adore: anal, coming on my face/body,
sex toys, but no s&m, (which I know you're not into
anyway)."

Ta,
lillil