Dress Me and Use Me

Nis 27, 2024 // By:analsex // No Comment

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I’ve been having some vivid and disturbing fantasies recently. Shari, my wife, is in all of them, but I can’t possibly tell her what I’ve been thinking about. We’re very much in love and have a great sex life but these fantasies have made me so excited that l’ve been masturbating more than I’ve done since I was a teenager. I’ve even started thinking about them when I’m having sex with Shari. I thought that writing them down might help me get them under control. Maybe not, but I don’t know what else to do.


They started a couple of months ago when David, Shari’s former boyfriend, moved back to town. He’s in his late thirties, about ten years older than Shari and me. They broke up long before Shari and I started dating, but I had met him a couple of times years ago. He called Shari when he got back to town and suggested we get together for dinner. So one Saturday evening I was sitting on the edge of the bed as Shari got out of the shower.

“I was thinking I would wear my black leather miniskirt and a blouse. What do you think?” she asked.

“Sound very pretty,” I said.

“What panties? You get to chose.”

“A thong. Black,” I said.

She rolled her eyes at me and smiled. “So predictable.”

“Is it my fault you have an amazing ass?” I replied.

She turned her back to me and leaned forward to show off her ass. “Beautiful!,” I said. My cock was starting to get hard and I reached to pull her down on to the bed with me.

“No,” she laughed, “you’re going to have to wait or we’ll be late.” She wriggled away from me and pulled her panties up her long tanned legs, then put on her miniskirt.

“Ok,” she said. “Which bra?”

“No bra,” I said. “I want to be able to see your nipples.”

“But what if they get hard?” she asked.

Shari has delicious small breasts and her nipples get amazingly long when she gets turned on.

“You’ll just have to control yourself,” I said.

“Yeah, like you’re doing now,” she said, pointing to my hard cock.

“Please,” I said. “Pretty please!”

“OK, ok,” she said. “I suppose it’s nothing that David hasn’t seen before.”

We had dinner at an expensive downtown restaurant. It was pleasant enough although most of it was Shari and David talking about old times. He didn’t seem to have changed much since I had first met him. He’s tall and good looking, and now, it seemed, quite wealthy.

When we finished dinner he suggested that we walk with him to his new apartment a few blocks away for a drink. I didn’t think we could refuse, not least because he had picked up the hefty check. His apartment was in a new building on the edge of downtown. The first impression when we walked in was the view out over the river. “Wow,” Shari said. “This is so beautiful.” She was right; it was spectacular. He gave us a quick tour of the apartment. The only furniture was a futon on the floor in the bedroom and two couches in the living room. I sat on the couch looking toward the window and the river. David poured us some wine and sat on the opposite couch. Shari sat next to him and kicked off her sandals and curled her legs up under her.

Wine makes Shari sleepy and with the glass she had at dinner and the glass she was now drinking she began to relax on the couch. Her head rested on David’s shoulder. He put his arm around her shoulder and kissed her gently on her forehead. She looked up at him with a happy smile on her face. And then it occurred to me that from that angle he probably had a good view into her blouse. And as that thought went through my mind I noticed that her nipples were getting hard and pressing against her blouse. David saw them too; I noticed him looking at her. Nobody said anything for about a minute.

“You’re falling asleep,” he finally said to Shari. “We better get you home.”

He stood up and helped Shari to her feet. We said good night and took a cab home. Shari snuggled against me when we got in the cab and I imagined how David had the same view as I now had of her little breasts and her erect nipples.

When we got home, without saying anything, she led me upstairs to the bedroom and undid my belt and let my pants fall to my feet. She knelt in front of me and took my cock in her mouth, at the same time undoing her skirt and blouse. When my cock was hard she pushed me back onto the bed and straddled me. Pulling her thong to one side, she slipped my cock into her wet pussy and fucked me, lowering herself onto my cock, then raising herself up and thrusting back down. She was moaning softly, then more and more loudly until she was uttering a long wild yell and her body spasmed with her orgasm and my cum shot deep into her pussy.


Shari woke me the next morning with a kiss before she left for her gym class.

“You have fun last night?” she asked.

“Let me think,” I said. “You, dressed only in a black thong, my cock in your pussy, your nipple in my mouth. Yeah, it was ok.”

She flicked the tip of my nose with her finger. “No, idiot, I meant seeing David.”

“Yeah, that was fine,” I said. “Specially mersin escort when your nipples got hard.”

She blushed a little. “That was the wine, I guess.”

I gave her a little pout. “And there was me thinking that it was you imagining taking me home and fucking me.”

“Yes, that too, of course,” she said, smiling. “Do you think David noticed?”

“Um, sweetie, if you had been selling tickets he couldn’t have got a better seat.”

“Well I guess looking isn’t so bad, is it?” she asked. “It’s not as though he touched them or something.”

“Anyway,” I said, wanting to get away from the subject of David and her breasts, “about last night’s fucking. Want to try it again now to see if we can get the meter above ok?”

“I’ll miss my class.”

“Ok. Be like that,” I said. “But promise I can lick the sweat off you when you get back.”

“It’s a deal, baby,” she said. She pulled back the sheet and kissed my cock, and left.

I lay back in bed and the image formed in my mind of Shari resting her head on David’s shoulder and her nipples getting hard as he watched. And then another image came into my head. In this one, David’s hand reaches for the top buttons of Shari’s blouse and undoes them; he then folds back her blouse to reveal her breasts with their erect nipples. Then he takes a nipple between his finger and thumb and caresses it lightly.

I had a moment of panic as this image formed in my mind. What if he had really done that? What would I have done? I told myself that I would have stood up, taken Shari’s hand and walked straight out of the apartment with her. But as I told myself that was what I would have done the image changed again. Now I imagined that I was sitting watching him expose her breasts and caress her nipple and that my cock was rapidly getting hard. Now I couldn’t get up without showing him that I was excited by what he was doing to her! So I had to put up with it. My moment of panic now turned to humiliation, imaging him treating Shari in that way while I got hard watching him.

Lying on the bed with these images running through my mind, I realize that my cock is very hard. How could a mental image of David fondling Shari possibly excite me? But I am so excited that I can’t resist stroking my cock all the while imagining his hand on her breast and his face turned toward me with a confident smile that tells me that he knows I’m turned on by what he’s doing to my wife. And then I imagine him saying to me: “You’re going to remember this when you’re alone tomorrow and you’re going to play with your cock, aren’t you?” And I imagine nodding my head in shame, and as I had that thought I came with a shuddering orgasm, splashing my cum over my hand and stomach and chest.

I lay back in a daze. Where had these weird thoughts come from? I took a hot shower as though to wash them away. Stepping out if the shower, I was laughing at myself. How strange, I thought. That’s a one-off.


But, in fact, it was just the beginning.

I didn’t think any more about David for a couple of weeks. But one Thursday evening he called to ask Shari if she could go with him to some charity benefit dinner on Saturday night. His date had to cancel so would she like to go with him? She asked me if I minded. Of course not, I said.

So that Saturday evening I was again watching her dress after she got out of the shower. She stood naked in front of the mirror admiring herself. “Pretty?” she asked me.

“Adorable,” I said. I stood behind her and ran my hands over her shoulders, over her breasts, down to her hips. She took my hand and put it between her legs.

“Did I do a good job shaving?” she asked.

Her skin was totally smooth. I caressed the lips of her pussy with my fingers and she moaned softy.

“What panties should I wear?” she asked. “As if I don’t know.”

“You don’t need panties,” I said without thinking. “Nothing David hasn’t seen before.”

She turned to look at me, a faint smile on her lips. She put on a black thong, then a pretty tight-fitting skirt that reached to just above her knees. This time she didn’t even ask me about a bra but put on a cream-colored silk blouse over her bare chest.

“You like?” she asked, posing in front of the mirror.

“You look amazing,” I said, and I meant it. I stood behind her as she looked at her reflection and gently held her nipples. I felt them getting hard. She didn’t tell me to stop.

The doorbell rang. It was David. I kissed Shari. “Have a nice time, sweetie,” I said as she left, her hard nipples visible through her blouse.

I went back up to the bedroom and lay on the bed trying to work out why I had made that comment about her not wearing panties. Was I jealous of David? Did I really think that they might want to be lovers again?

And then the image of them together on the couch in his apartment comes back to me and I start to get hard. I try to resist, not wanting to think about them together. But as I struggle to resist that image, another creeps into my mind. I imagine mersin escort bayan that I’m at the door saying goodbye to Shari as she leaves with David. I close the door behind her and I hear the car start. But before they drive away, Shari’s key turns in the lock and she comes back into the house. “Did you forget something?” I ask.

“No,” I imagine her saying. “But you were right. I don’t need these.” She lifts up her skirt and pulls her panties down over her legs. “That’s much better,” she says, hands them to me, smoothes down her skirt, kisses me on the cheek, and leaves the house again. I watch her walk to David’s car. I imagine that I go up to the bedroom, sit on the edge of the bed, undo my pants and rub Shari’s panties against my erection.

Then I imagine that Shari calls me from the car. “Did you see how wet my panties were?” she asks.

“Yes,” I say.

“Does it turn you on that I’m not wearing panties against my smooth pussy?”

“Yes, it’s very exciting,” I say.

“And that my nipples are still hard?”


“So are you masturbating?”

“Yes,” I say again.

“Tell me what you’re doing.”

I tell her. “I’m lying on the bed. I’m rubbing my cock with your panties.” I feel compelled to answer even though I know she has me on the speaker phone.

“That’s very sexy, sweetie,” she says, then I hear her laugh softly. “I want you to put on my panties and send me a picture.”

I hesitate. She notices my reluctance. “You won’t do that for me, baby?” I imagine her asking.

I know I can’t deny her request. So I pull on her panties and stand in front of the mirror and take a picture with my cell phone of my hard cock straining against the thin material of her thong. I send her the picture and hear laughter from them as they look at it. Shari asks me if the thong feels good against my ass.

“Yes,” I say.

“So I want you to pull it tight as you rub your cock and make yourself cum,” I imagine her saying, and with that thought imagination and real life merge as my real hand on my real cock brings my real cum spurting out.


I fell asleep before Shari got home. I woke up when she came into the bedroom and for a moment wasn’t sure whether this was reality or the continuation of the thoughts I had been having before I fell asleep. But as I watched her undress and saw that she was still wearing the panties she had put on earlier in the evening I realized this wasn’t yet more of my imagining.

The next morning when Shari was at her gym class I couldn’t get my mind off her panties. I took them from the laundry hamper and wiped them across my face, savoring her scent. They were damp. Why was her pussy wet last night? How wet? But as I was having these thoughts, I was fighting to resist them, telling myself that I love her and trust her. I suddenly felt so dirty checking her panties to see if she had been turned on when she was with David and in disgust with myself I threw them across the room.

But the message didn’t reach as far as my cock. It was hard, and I retrieved her panties and started rubbing them along my cock. And my thoughts went back to the night before and how I had imagined sending Shari and David a picture of me in her panties as I moaned and came for them. At that moment I had to know how that picture would have looked. I pulled on her panties and stood in front of the mirror. How could I have imagined sending them a picture of me like that! But my hand was still rubbing my cock as I stared at my reflection and with my other hand I pulled the thong tight against my ass. I got my cell phone and took a picture of the reflection in the mirror. And then another with my back to the mirror and leaning forward to show off the thong string against my ass. Then a video: I filmed myself cumming over her panties.

I sat back on the bed looking at the pictures and video. A huge wave of humiliation swept over me at the thought that anyone should see me like that. I deleted all of them, took off Shari’s panties and put them in the washing machine hoping they would be dry by the time she came back.


I had been trying to force myself to see my imaginings as bizarre thoughts that just sprung into my mind for no good reason. But after a couple more weeks of the same thoughts I had to face the fact that these weren’t something that was just happening to me. In fact, I realized, I was actually working out these scenarios, adding and subtracting elements just as if I were writing a screen play, all the time trying to find out how to make them more exciting. They were just like the fantasies I had as a kid, imagining how a girl I had a crush on would accept my invitation to come for a late night swim in the local lake, how she would have forgotten her bikini bra, how she would let me touch her boobs, how she would touch my cock . . . But the difference now was that I was striving to make these fantasies about Shari and David more and more humiliating.

By admitting to myself that these were escort mersin fantasies — my own home-made fantasies — I seemed to lose all power to resist them. They were never far from my mind. Each time I thought of David’s hands on Shari’s breasts I found myself trying out other details. What if she had moaned as he touched her? Or kissed him? Or even taken out his cock? What if she had asked me if I was excited by what I was seeing and I admitted that I was? And what if she had told me to take out my cock and masturbate for them? And then I imagined again that I was wearing her panties and that they were laughing at me as I masturbated for them. I was constantly hard and I made love with Shari almost every night, and each time we made love my fantasies would encroach on my thoughts. Shari too was incredibly horny and I wondered if that was because she was working on her own fantasies. And the thought that as I made love to her she might be fantasizing about being fucked by David worked its way back into my own fantasies!

One night, lying next to her in bed after we had made love, she told me that David had asked her if she was free on Saturday to go look at furniture with him.

“Why you?” I blurted out without thinking. “Why doesn’t he ask an interior decorator? Why does he need you?”

Shari looked taken aback by my outburst. “Because he thinks I have good taste,” she said sweetly. “But if you don’t want me to go, I won’t.”

“No, of course you should go,” I said. “And you do have good taste.”

As the weekend got closer I started to think about how she would dress when she went shopping with him. These thoughts filled my mind so much that I had to do something to stop myself from being distracted by them. I thought that if I wasn’t there on Saturday when she left to see David I wouldn’t spend the day thinking about them being together. So I went into work early on Saturday. Shari called me as she was about to leave to meet David. I pretended I was too busy to speak, fearing that she would say something to set off my fantasies.

But I couldn’t keep myself busy enough. After a couple of hours or so my thoughts kept coming back to her and David. Maybe she wore her skimpy shorts? But they’re so tight that he would see the outline of her pussy! Maybe a miniskirt then? But that was no better because her miniskirts are really short and maybe this time she hadn’t worn panties. And was she wearing one of her white t-shirts that clung to her body? Or even a cut-off t-shirt to show off her toned tummy. On impulse I dialed her cell phone.

“Hi sweetie,” I said. “Sorry I couldn’t speak when you called earlier. You having a nice time?”

“Yes,” she said. “We’re at the store right now, looking at beds.”

“Oh, anything nice?” I asked, stupidly.

“Some,” she said. “But I’ve got to go, baby, because a salesman is here. Speak to you later.”

Great, I thought. Now I’m going to spend the rest of the day imagining her trying out beds with David. I went home and went up to the bedroom. I knew there was no use resisting; I knew what I was going to do. I took off my clothes and stood in front of the mirror. As I looked at my reflection, my cock grew hard with anticipation. When I was fully erect I went to Shari’s underwear draw. I pulled out a pair of white boy shorts and put them on. Back in front of the mirror my reflection made my cock jump with excitement. Then I pulled a chair over and knelt on it with my ass toward the mirror. The feeling of her panties against my cock and ass was exquisite.

But I craved more. So I started imagining Shari and David returning from shopping and finding me in her panties masturbating before the mirror. I stammer some stupid explanation. Shari tells me that because I like dressing like a girl I should act more like a girl. She tells me to pull my panties down over my thighs and fuck myself with my finger. They watch me as I do this, laughing at me. David’s arm is around Shari’s shoulders, their faces close together. Shari asks me if I’m fantasizing about having a cock fucking me. I don’t answer.

“I think you are,” she says. “I think you’re dreaming of a hard cock exploring your pussy.”

“Yes,” I admit, “I am.”

“So maybe we can help,” she says. “Maybe you’ll like David’s big cock in your pussy?” She turns to David and kisses him tenderly on the lips. “What do you think, baby?” she asks him. “Would you do a favor for this little girl?”

He returns her kisses and her hand goes to his belt and she undoes his pants to take out his cock. It’s starting to get hard and it grows and grows as she strokes it. It’s so big. How will it fit in me? But I want it all the same. She takes David’s cock and positions him behind me as I kneel on the chair, directing it to my opening. It touches me, starts to press against me, and, as I imagine him penetrating me, I cum hard, my entire body shuddering as my cum spurts out over Shari’s panties.


I look at myself in the mirror. Shari’s panties are down around my thighs and a long string of cum is leaking from my cock. I look like a tramp, so dirty. This is a new low, I tell myself: I’ve just got myself off wearing my wife’s panties while fantasizing about being fucked by her boyfriend. I wait for the disgust to sweep over me as it had before. But it doesn’t come. Don’t I feel any regret? Has it come to this already: that I’m no longer shocked by what I’ve done?

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