Secrets

Jerking her hand from underneath her nightgown, Carol put both feet down onto the patio stone and closed her knees. She tried to pull her nightgown down but she realized that she was still holding her cup. She couldn't make her body do what she wanted it to. She was frantically trying to appear nonchalant while her mind was racing with the possibility that he had seen her playing with herself.

"Hi," she said weakly and waved back at him. "Beautiful day, isn't it?"

"It's even more beautiful from where I'm standing," he said.

That little muscle in her groin twitched and Carol felt her nipples hardening against the nylon of her nightgown.

"I-I-I have to get back inside," she said and stood up. "I-I have some work to do. I'll see you around."

"Yes, I'll see you around," he replied and stood there while she gathered up her breakfast dishes and hurried into the house.

"Oh, my god. This is so embarrassing," she said aloud. "I wonder if he could see me. I'll bet he enjoyed himself." Carol had gotten used to talking out loud to herself and she used the technique as a sort of sanity check when she was upset about something.

Carol practically threw her dishes into the dishwasher and made a dash upstairs. Her mind told her that if she kept busy she would stop thinking about things that she shouldn't be thinking about.

Opening the door to Tim's room she was not surprised when she was confronted with the usual mess in which he lived. Moving swiftly she picked up his CD's and books and stacked them on his desk. The sheets were clean so she made his bed and vacuumed the floor. She was moving at twice her normal speed to keep her mind off of her body and its reactions to Paul Dwyer.

Pushing the vacuum back into the hall closet, she lugged the dirty clothes hamper down to the laundry room with Tim's wastebasket sitting on top of it.

After starting the machine with a load of whites that she had sorted out, Carol emptied Tim's wastebasket into the trash. A shiny piece of foil caught her eye as the crumpled up papers spilled from the wastebasket into the bin. Reaching in she retrieved a wrapper from a lubricated condom.

"What's he doing with this in his room?" she asked herself. "Did he have a girl up there? He couldn't have, he's never alone in the house long enough."

Carol knew that Tim was sexually active. She had once found a pair of panties under his mattress and she knew he kept condoms in his dresser drawer under his underwear. She and Jim had discussed it and decided that since he was 18 years old that there was nothing that they could do about it and they were grateful that he was using protection.

The next item that caught her eye was even more startling than the first. A used condom slipped out from inside of a crumpled up tissue. She held it up and the end was filled with liquid.

"He must be masturbating into condoms!" She exclaimed. "That's why I haven't found any stains on his sheet over the last few months.

For some reason she flushed at the sight of the condom and that little muscle in her groin twitched again. A mental image of her son's penis wrapped in a condom filled with semen flashed in front of her eyes. Shaking her head to get rid of the image, Carol made a mental note to see how many condoms were in his drawer and to keep a running count of them. Throwing the condom and the rest of the trash into the container, Carol put the wastebasket down and opened the cabinet door over the clothes washer to get a sheet of fabric softener. She stood on her tiptoes to reach it and her belly pressed against the washing machine.

The machine's vibration thrummed through her front and down into her groin. She retrieved a sheet of fabric softener but when she set back down on her heels she did not move away from the soothing motion of the machine.

Sliding sideways a little bit, her thighs straddled the corner of the machine and allowed the humming to penetrate her pussy. Closing her eyes, Carol remained leaning against the warm, smooth metal and let the rising sensations take over her body.

It wasn't a screaming orgasm as orgasms go but after the quivering stopped Carol was pleased with the results.

"Shit, I just screwed a clothes washing machine," she said. "What's going on with me?"

Finding a pair of her soiled panties in the pile of clothes, Carol wiped away the moisture that had oozed down her legs and threw the sheet of softener into the dryer.

Chapter 7

A quick shower during which she carefully avoided touching her self more than was necessary left her feeling better. Immersing herself in her bill paying chores, Carol sat at the computer and balanced her own and the household checkbook in record time.

She composed a letter to the mothers of the cheerleading squad inviting them to a special party that was being planned. Carol loaded the printer with paper and started it going. She was stacking the paid bills and throwing the envelopes away when the printer suddenly stopped printing.

"Damn it! Now what?" She wondered looking at the two copies that had come out before the printer stopped. The printer refused to cooperate and she could not get it going again.

"I'll have to go down to the drugstore and get some copies made. I have to get this out today," she thought. "I'd better call Jim and tell him that the printer stopped again."

She decided that her shorts and sweatshirt would be OK for the short trip to the drugstore and picking up her purse and keys, she went into the garage through the kitchen and climbed into her car.

The drugstore copier was broken. A posted sign told her that they expected it to be repaired by late afternoon.

"Damn it!" She said aloud.

"Having a problem?" She recognized the voice behind her as belonging to Paul.

"Is he following me around," she thought.

She felt her face flush as she turned and faced him.

"No, not really," she said. "I need to get some copies made and my computer printer is broken and this damn copying machine is broken again."

"Maybe I can help," he smiled at her. "I have a copying machine in my office. You can use it any time that you need it. Why don't you come over now?"

A vision of she and Paul alone in his house flashed through her head. She shook her head as if to clear it and he thought she was rejecting his offer.

"You don't have to, you know," he smiled. "I won't bite you. Unless you want me to that is," he finished with another smile.

"No, I mean yes, thank you. I know you won't bite me. I mean I'll take you up on your offer. I'll have to come over later though. I have an appointment to get my nails done. How about in a couple of hours? Will that be OK?"

"Sure," he replied. "Give me the original and I'll have the copies ready for you when you come over. Here's my card. You can call me when you're ready. Actually, you can come anytime," he smiled again and put the emphasis on the word 'come'. "My wife is out of town."

"I don't believe it but this guy is really hitting on me. Me! I haven't been hit on in years," she felt herself standing straighter and arching her back so that her breasts were more prominent.

A plan was forming in Carol's mind. It was a fantasy really. Her mind was playing with her and she was having trouble separating fact from fiction. When she looked at Paul she saw a ghostly vision of Thom hovering in front of her.

Her flush spread throughout her body and a bead of sweat rolled down her chest between her breasts. Her breathing quickened and her chest felt tight in her bra.

Handing the envelope with the letter inside of it to Paul, Carol watched as his hand grasped her forearm and pulled her towards him.

"I'd better be going," she said.

"Call me when you want to come," he offered in a low voice. "Anytime."

"There's that 'come' again. What if someone is watching us? Am I imagining things? Stop it, Carol," she admonished herself and turned away to leave the store.

Her mind was whirling as she drove home and into her garage. She sat in the car after the door closed behind her and fought with herself over her decision.

"You can't do this," she argued. "It won't work. You are not even that attracted to him. Jim's a good man. Get your head together before you ruin your life. You're going to make a fool of yourself."

Carol squirmed in the seat of the car. She pushed her pussy down against the leather and felt it squish with her running juices. The timer clicked the overhead light off and the sudden darkness brought Carol back into the present.

Deciding to take another shower before going to get her manicure, Carol carefully shaved her legs and underarms in the steamy bathroom. After drying her body, she trimmed her pubes using Jim's electric clippers. After cropping the sides of her hair, only a thin strip remained.

Her grooming completed she worried about what she was going to tell Jim. She had never cropped herself this closely before and he would wonder about it. She would tell him she did it for him.

"Another secret," she said. "Once you keep one, it is easy to add others."

Moving as if in a trance, Carol applied lotion to her body and chose her sexiest bra and panties. Critically examining herself in the mirror, Carol held her slightly bulging tummy in with her hands. This served to make her breasts stand out more. Hefting her breasts in her hands she lifted them and decided that, even if was hot outside, she would need to wear her pantyhose. Her belly needed the control top.

Carol debated with herself for a moment before deciding to not wear her panties under her pantyhose. After removing them, she carefully smoothed the nylon hose up over her feet and legs while she watched herself in the mirror. When she had them up and over her thighs, she did that little dance that women do to stretch their pantyhose the final few inches up on the bodies.

The realization that she was doing this to make herself look good for Paul Dwyer suddenly hit her. A quick feeling of guilt washed over her but she continued with her vague plans and finished dressing. The light blue cotton sundress fell smoothly over her nylon-encased thighs and butt.

"I look pretty good for an old gal," she congratulated herself and slipped on her high-heeled sandals.

Her skirt spun and lifted as she did a quick pirouette in front of the mirror. Giving her breasts another lift with her hands she reached into her bra cups and pulled them up that they sat higher in her bra. Her smile was a satisfied smile as she admired herself in the mirror.

Chapter 8

It was cool in the beauty parlor and Carol idly thumbed through a magazine while she waited her turn.

"How about a pedicure today?" The manicurist pointed to a sign hanging on the mirror. "Half off of our regular price if we do it along with a manicure."

Carol only hesitated for a minute before succumbing to the tempting deal. No one else was in the shop at the moment so she stood and reached up under her skirt to remove her pantyhose. They were half way down her legs before she remembered she wasn't wearing panties.

"Oh, what the hell!" She thought. "I can get away with it for a little while."

Her feet soaking in a bath of warm water and the droning voice of the manicurist as she shared the latest gossip made Carol sleepy. She tilted her head back onto the headrest and dozed off.

"You have beautiful feet," Thom said. "I could play with them all day."

Elanora allowed Thom to pull her feet up onto his lap. She could feel his manhood beginning to harden under his tunic. It was cool sitting in the shade of a tree while their horse grazed nearby.

"You don't want to play with my feet," she laughed. "You want them to play with you. Don't you?"

Thom laughed with her, "Yes, my darling. You caught me again."

Elanora captured his throbbing member between the soles of her feet. She could feel his heat coming through the material of his clothes as she rubbed him with her feet."

"Mrs. Fielder, Mrs. Fielder," a voice broke through the haze of her nap. "Wake up! You're splashing water all over the floor!"

The voice was not Thom's it was the manicurist's and she had a grip on both of Carol's ankles in an attempt to keep them motionless. Carol's eyes opened and she took in the situation.

"I'm so sorry!" She exclaimed with embarrassment. "I was dreaming. I'm really sorry."

The manicurist turned Carol's chair to the side and spread a towel over the wet spots on the floor. Lifting Carol's foot up out of the basin of water she scooted her little stool closer to the chair and rested Carol's foot on a towel placed in her lap.

"Who's Thom?" The manicurist asked.

"Thom? I don't know any Thom. Why do you ask?" Carol lied.

"You were calling his name in your dream, that's all," she responded.

"I don't know why," Carol said. "I don't remember what I was dreaming about."

Carol did remember her dream and she knew that when she got up off of the chair her dress was going to have a wet spot in the back. Carol could feel the moisture oozing out of her but she couldn't figure out how to stop it from soaking into her dress. Every time she squirmed a little, the pedicurist gave her a look that told her to hold still. Giving up, she relaxed in the chair and decided to worry about it when she was finished.

"There can't be any moisture left in me," she thought. "I've been lubricating almost non-stop for the last week. I can't be pregnant. I must be having some kind of menstrual cycle thing or something. I'll mention it to Dr. Lane when I go to see her next time."

Carol was aware that with her foot in the lap of the manicurist, her thighs were spread and her short dress was not hiding anything from anyone that cared to look.

What Carol didn't know was that the manicurist stole a look up her dress every fifteen seconds or so. It's a wonder that she didn't cut one of Carol's toes off while she was staring up her dress.

"Well, well, look who's here!" A man's voice boomed out in the quiet beauty shop.

"My god, is he following me around," Carol thought as she looked up from her magazine and into Paul's eyes.

"What are you doing here?" She asked.

"I came here to get my haircut," he responded. "Actually, it's the first time I've been here but if you're a regular customer, I will be too."

Carol flushed when she realized that Paul's eyes were fixed on the opening between her thighs as the beautician covered him with an apron and began to run a comb through his hair.

"Don't take too much off, there isn't much left," Paul laughed. "But you know what they say about bald men, don't you?"

"No, what do they say?" The beautician allowed herself to be the straight woman.

"They say that some men use their testosterone to grow hair but that bald men use it in the way that god intended it to be used."

"And how is that?" The beautician continued with the game.

"We use it to grow some of our other organs," he laughed and slapped his knee with his hand.

Everyone laughed and Paul quieted down when the beautician tilted his chair back and began to wash his hair.

Paul's haircut was complete at about the same time that the manicurist was finished with Carol's nails. Paul chattered on about the weather and asked about some good places to eat since he was new in the area. He never took his eyes off of Carol and she tried to be careful when she got up out of the chair but she ended up straddling the footrest with her skirt pulled high up on her thighs.

Paul smiled at her attempt to push her skirt down between her thighs and she heard him snicker when she retrieved her pantyhose from the cabinet next to the sink.

"Please don't put them back on," the manicurist begged. "You'll ruin your pedicure. Wait a few hours until the polish hardens. OK?"

Carol stuffed the pantyhose into her purse and thanked the girl with a tip. Paul was already at the cashier when she got there and he gallantly stepped aside for her to go ahead of him. Placing his hand on her back, he ushered her forward with a gentle nudge. Carol felt his fingers moving on her waist and she knew he was searching for the elastic of her panties. When he didn't find any he hesitated for a moment before sliding his hand to the middle of her back and feeling for some type of waistband under her dress. Not finding anything, he gave her waist a little squeeze just above her hip.

"When are you coming over?" He asked when they exited the salon.

"I-I-I have to go home first," Carol said.

She was thinking that she had to change or at least put on some panties before she went to his house.

"Don't bother stopping at your house. Come over right now," he suggested. "I'll be waiting. I'll leave the garage door open and you can pull right into it. That way your car won't have to sit in the hot sun."

"Yeah, sure!" Carol thought, "You don't miss a trick do you? You don't want anyone to see my car parked in front of your house."

Carol hesitated for a moment before deciding to go along with his suggestion. Her mind was way ahead and already thinking about what she would and would not do when she got there.

"OK, but I have to stop at the bank first. I'll be there in a few minutes," she agreed and pressed the button on the remote to open her car doors.

"Great!" He said and walked towards his own car.

Chapter 9

The air conditioner had not even begun to cool off the car before Carol pulled into his garage. The overhead door click-clacked down behind her as she sat in her car wondering what she was doing there. The door to the house opened and Paul's form appeared silhouetted in the doorway of his house.

"Are you going to stay in there," he laughed. "Come on in, it's cool in here."

Carol climbed out of the car and walked past Paul standing in the doorway.

"Welcome," he said and gestured with his arm in a mock bow.

The cool air hit Carol and she felt her nipples harden under her sheer bra. She was getting that tight feeling in her chest again and her bra's underwire cut into her skin below her breasts.

Indicating an envelope, Paul said, "There's the copies. I made some extras in case you needed them. Would you like a cold drink? Beer, soda, iced tea, a mixed drink?"

Carol toyed with the idea of having some liquor to quiet her nerves but she realized that she would have to explain the odor on her breath to Jim.

"No, just a cold soda will be fine," she said.

"Have a seat. I'll be right back," he said.

Carol watched him walk away. He had changed his clothes and he was wearing a tee shirt and shorts with no shoes. His bare feet made a slapping sound on the kitchen floor tile.

Carol smoothed her dress down over her ass and across her belly. She could feel her cropped pubic hair under the tips of her fingers and her hand moving against her body reminded her that she was naked under the thin cotton skirt.

Picking up the envelope, Carol looked at the copies and realized that he had not copied both pages on the same sheet of paper. She made an "Oh" sound just as Paul came back with her drink in his hand.

"Something wrong?" He asked and handed her a glass of soda.

"Oh, no. I mean, well yes. I wanted them printed on both sides of the same sheet of paper," she said. "Never mind. It'll be OK. No problem."

"Oh, I'm sorry," he offered. "I can reprint them in a jiffy. Come up to the office."

Without bothering to see if she was following him, Paul turned and walked towards the stairs to the second floor. Carol hesitated for a moment but then meekly followed him to the stairs. Paul had only gone up two steps when he stopped and turned.

"I forgot my drink. Go on up. It's at the end of the hall. I'll be there in a jiffy."

Paul put his hand on her hip for balance as he squeezed past her on the stairs. Keeping his hand on her body, he slid it around and across her belly as he descended the steps.