1. Dirty Little Secrets 11: All Tied Up


    Date: 6/24/2016, Categories: Wife / MILF, Author: PervyStoryteller, Source: LushStories

    Something is going on. I don’t know what it is, and it makes me nervous. I’ve had this feeling all week. Now it’s Friday evening and I’m all in the dark. I mean this literally. Straight after work I went to the sex shop, where my videos now show on repeat, the ones where I demonstrate various products. The latest video shows me in bondage. A spreader bar holds my legs apart, and my wrists are attached to the metal too. I’m wearing the hood that renders me anonymous, but apart from that nothing but matching purple bra and knickers. My husband John stands with his back to the camera, using a wand on me until the climax strikes and I cry out with pleasure. I didn’t go there to see the video, which I’ve seen before. But watching myself, and seeing other people watch me, even if most of them were women, made me very wet indeed. It always does. Since I started modelling these items of clothing and demonstrating these products, I’ve been having dreams. Last night I dreamt I was on a cushion-strewn floor with lots of couples seated round me on chairs. In my dreams, I’m not wearing a hood. Everyone can see who I am. The women masturbate their men as I play with myself, and when I climax, the men masturbate over me, showering me with their ejaculate. I wish I could say that I’m embarrassed by this, but very little makes me feel like that these days. The only thing that would make me ashamed, and it would make me deeply ashamed, was if people I deal with in my everyday life got to ...
    know what I’m like beneath the surface. I went to the shop to pick up some new products. Sandra gave me a selection of clothes. “I’d like you to model these,” she said. “If you want to combine that with any of the other products we’ve given you, feel free.” I changed the moment I got home. Sandra had given me a pink bra and matching pink knickers, both transparent; pink hold-ups and red, plastic boots that go up just past my knees. Then there was the wholly transparent cape coming down to my thighs, which I instinctively thought of as rainwear. I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked like a sex worker. I said as much to John. “Then let’s take you out in the street so you can walk,” he said. I knew John was joking, but I still felt that familiar mixture of dread and excitement. The neighbours must never see me acting the harlot like that, but what if…? I didn’t use the hood, letting John film me on the patio, where the neighbours can’t quite see, as long as he didn’t capture my face on film. But that’s not what’s different about tonight. After filming me, John requested that I take off the boots and put on the new hood. Yes, the new hood. Sandra decided it was time I graduate to something “meatier”, as she put it. She gave me a leather hood, one without eyeholes, but with an opening for my mouth and nostril holes, though at first I was still afraid I might not be able to breathe. John sat me down in the middle of our three-seater and pulled the hood over my head. There’s the ...
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