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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

THE SACRED FABRICS OF HUMAN LIVES, CHAPTER TWO

The apartment building had already begun putting Paul and Nancy at ease. Tasteful, well-appointed, they did not have to speak because they were both thinking the same thought: that if they lived in this city, this would be the kind of building they would choose for themselves.

From the lobby, to the elevator, then down the hall to their destination, the quiet and conservative elegance already made Paul and Nancy feel welcome, and excited.

Two good feelings, both at the same time.

They walked down the hallway, arm in arm, quiet and confident in their clothes, which fit the decor perfectly, as they instinctively knew they would. No need for jackets, springtime was afoot.

With the door of their destination in sight, Nancy said quietly to Paul, “I’m so glad we’re doing this, we deserve fun like this,” and before Paul could respond they were at the door and the buzzer and Nancy was asking him to ring the bell.

They could hear the chimes inside the apartment from outside in the hall. They did not have long to wait.

Now that Paul and Nancy had finally arrived at Sean and Erin’s apartment, Erin greeted them at the door. Erin wore a tight, green wrap dress that accentuated her waistline and her large, full breasts. Her hair was up, casually, in an after-work up-do.

She was all smiles and all apologies.

So were Nancy and Paul.

“Traffic,” said Nancy, as the only explanation necessary.

Erin’s smile was knowing. “We’re sorry, too. It’s Sean’s exercise time, and I hope you don’t mind but, he hates missing a workout. And, honestly, I hate it to. I wouldn’t let him miss a session, so you’ll have to blame me.”

But Erin’s large smilie and larger bust made it impossible to hold her accountable for any wrong doing.

“Oh, is Sean not here? Is he at the gym?” Paul asked.

“No, he’s here,” Erin answered. “He’s in the living room, lifting weights.”

Nancy and Paul had dressed for their journey properly, with the respect and formality of a proper first visit to the home in a distant, elegant city of their new friends. Erin greeted them at the door in similar attire. Their formal shoes clicked on the parquet floor as Erin lead them down the apartment’s entry gallery and to the open-plan living room.

They passed the floral arrangement Nancy had sent prior to their scheduled arrival, so as not to have to trouble with travel and bringing a gift both, for Nancy knew she wanted to get something for Erin and Sean in thanks for how warmly they opened up their home to the older couple and received them correctly, as Nancy knew the proper younger couple would. “Thank you again for the flowers,” Erin gushed and Nancy received. “They smell so amazing, you’re so thoughtful.”

“You’re so welcome, Erin, we’re so glad to be here,” Nancy replied as they entered the living room.

“Our guests are here, darling,” Erin announced to her husband. “Apologies,” she said to Paul and Nancy. “He brings the weight bench out from its cubby so he can lift in the middle of the room.”

Sean had one knee on that mechanical, padded bench, presenting a most surprising picture to greet the older couple on their arrival. While the room was tasteful and properly furnished and attired, a coffee table had been moved out of the way and this simple piece of utilitarian gym equipment was now the dominant focus of the room.

And working out on that equipment was Sean, his broad back turned to Paul and Nancy, as were the backs of his naked thighs and calves and arms. Only his bottom was covered, and that by taut, black cotton fabric that gave full coverage yet did not hide the firm curves of the younger man’s butt. Sean’s entire body held in muscle tense stillness while only the arm muscles he was targeting were allowed to fire and steadily lift a dumbbell up, then down, then up again, then down, his tricep greeting his guests with slow and steady pump.

Sean finished his internal count and released the weight in his hand, laying it down onto the thick center rug.

Paul glanced at Nancy and saw that Sean had Nancy’s entire attention.

“Oh, hi there, guys! Sorry you caught me like this,” a smiling, self-effacing, slightly sweaty Sean said, all sweet shyness, turning around to see Paul and Nancy there.

His chest and stomach were bare, as even were his feet, greeting his guests there, nude but for the most petite of black loincloth-like garments they had ever seen a man wear in their presence.

Paul glanced down and knew Nancy was glancing down, too. But not at the floor, in humility. Oh, no, not there. Not at the floor at all.

The garment was cut shocking high on the thigh, and though obviously swollen in the front, no swollen flesh protruded. Whatever was inside that undergarment, it was being held and covered.

Sean crossed the living room floor to them, a few paces and though his bulge wiggled, Paul and Nancy could see no insult to their dignity. Quite the contrary.

Sean proffered escort bursa his hand in friendly greeting. “Nancy, Doctor. Great to see you both again. Welcome!” They shook hands in turn, Sean leaning in to give Nancy a polite kiss on her cheek while they shook hands, his sweaty body and scent suddenly inside Nancy’s personal space, and then out again but giving Paul a solid grip and a solid look in the eye. Welcome, friend. We are glad to welcome you, Sean’s eyes were saying. Paul squeezed Sean’s hand and smiled back.

Paul noticed he could smell Sean’s manly scent even at this distance, different from his own but not unwelcome.

“I hope you don’t mind if we chat while I finish these sets,” Sean said. “Erin will get you drinks.”

Even though it was later in the afternoon, champagne for guests and friends was found, already chilled. Crisp and delicious.

Pop went the bottle (Paul opened it, on Nancy’s instruction and direction) and only Sean abstained, curling weights for his biceps as his demurral but watching the champagne flutes fill with the bubbles of possibility and sacred friendship.

“You’re here safe and sound and sexy,” Erin said, saying that last one saucily quickly, “so let’s toast to Saint Christopher in thanks.”

Paul and Nancy chuckled and said “to Saint Christopher!” and clinked their flutes with Erin’s and drank to the Saint’s Holy Name.

“Come, lets sit and catch up,” Erin said, directly her guests to the available places.

Erin and her guests sat casually around the room on couches, while Sean lay on the weight bench in the middle, nearly but importantly not nude, calmly lifting dumbbells and now working his chest.

Small talk was made about Paul and Nancy’s trip. The traffic on the final approach to Sean and Erin’s home. Things that had happened since Sean and Erin had met Paul and Nancy in New England.

All through it, Sean kept lifting weights, in nothing but his small, black, cotton garment, that hugged him tightly in key places but loose in others, yet kept him indecently decent the entirely time. He was listening to the conversation, and chimed in here and there, laughing along with Paul’s jokes and enjoying the sensibilities and humors of his guests and of his wife, who remained fully clothed including her tan, peep-toe heels showing her toe polish that matched the luscious green of her dress.

“I can’t help but wonder, Erin,” Nancy said, and then sipped her champagne before continuing. But that… workout garment you have Sean in. Are those… panties?”

The word hung in the air. Sean held the weights above his head for an extra beat in his count.

“Yes, they are,” Erin answered. “I love watching Sean workout in panties. Especially when he’s lifting free weights like this. He’s so masculine, and yet, he’s in a garment that’s so socialized feminine, I mean, and it is, I mean… look at him. We obviously have to… size up so it’ll even work and he won’t completely flop out of that thing. But you see,” Erin said, now getting up and going over to her husband, who had put down the weights at the end of his lifting set.

Erin slipped her hand in the front of the black panties her husband wore. Pushing down to gather his testicles and then grabbing hold of as much of him as she could. “I like to pull him up and forward like this, get it all out in front,” she said, readjusting her husband’s penis and testicles inside the stretchy cotton panty. “See what a nice bulge it makes? Honey, stand up and then turn to the side, show the bulge. Come up, get up off this bench.”

He did and he did and he did and he did. Got off the bench, stood up, turned to the side, and showed off that bulge.

“Yes, I see,” Nancy said. “Yes, yes indeed.” She stopped talking but when Paul glanced over to her she was still looking. Nancy caught him looking and turned to him, catching his eyes quickly and then Paul turned away, turned back to what he was supposed to be looking at, then seeing that bulging black cotton he turned his eyes to the floor.

“That reminds me,” Nancy said. “Speaking about panties. Stand up Paul.”

Paul froze, but he complied with his wife’s voice as if in a trance. Nancy reached over and undid the zipper fly on Paul’s trousers. “Paul has something for you. He wants to return that lovely pair back to you, quite thoughtful of you, honey, I know my honey has had a lot of fun with them, haven’t you, dear?” and Paul nodded his head while his wife fondled around inside his open fly, like she was searching for something.

“Paul liked those orange panties you gave us so much,” Nancy continued, “that I’ve been making him show his appreciation ever since. For the last few weeks, the only place he’s been allowed to release his seed, is into your sexy orange sheer panty. Every drop of his. It’s the only place. That fire-orange sheer bikini brief. Even when we have sex on Sunday nights, he knows he can’t finish inside but has to pull out and squirt into your panty. Of course, I was a little bursa otele gelen escort jealous when you gave them to him, so sudden like that. Any woman would be. But I understood. I understood he needed to feel that sacred fabric with your sacred scent across his face, smelling your perfume scented on it, scented with everything else. I admit it, I might have helped myself to a cursory, investigatory sniff. What does she smell like that I don’t? You know how jealous we girls get, especially us wives. But they were so, clean, darling. So much like mine looked, maybe twenty years ago when I wore more hot-colored nether things. He quite liked yours, darling. He was a very spunky boy, weren’t you, Doctor?”

“Y-y-yess,” Paul stammered. It was clear that Nancy was having some fun teasing him with her hand inside the fly of his formal, Sunday trousers.

“And you know how leaky Paul is,” Nancy said. “I’m sure as soon as he saw how lovely and becoming that green wrap dress you’re wearing is, he started making a salty slimy mess in here,” she said, squeezing her hidden hand to indicate exactly where Paul had been making his salty slimy mess today. “Such a lovely and becoming dress,” Nancy said.

“Don’t forget tight,” Erin said.

“Yes, darling. Quite,” Nancy agreed.

“Just for you,” Erin smiled, at Nancy.

Nancy smiled back. “Well, since he’s so leaky, and I knew he’d be a real big dripper today like Ursa Major, getting all excited to come visit you, that I slipped your panties into his underwear, and I think, darling, you can guess how I dressed him for travel today, and if you guess right maybe I’ll tell you, and maybe if you guess right on the first try I’ll make Paul show you, but here they are sweetheart, that tasty, orange sheer bikini you gave us as a parting present.” Nancy pulled it out of the open fly, which gave only the briefest glimpse of black satin and straps under Paul’s formal trousers, as the eye was distracted by Nancy holding the soiled and crusted garment to her nose. “And, your scent is definitely faded now, darling Erin,” Nancy said, “but do thank you for the loan. We had so much fun with it.”

Nancy held out her arm, offering the tiny, bright fabric back to Erin, and Erin, smiling, reached for them, excited. “I’m so glad you brought them,” Erin said. “I see what you mean, leaky, huh? These are so wet I’d think they, maybe, came off of you.”

Nancy laughed. “Not my size, honey, but I like your style. We should go shopping together while we’re here.”

“We should,” Erin agreed. “And actually, I’m not wearing panties under this dress,” she said. “So I hope you won’t mind me finishing getting dressed in front of you.”

Sean was sitting up on the bench, now raised into an inclined position, curling weights across his chest, watching his wife as she hiked up the hem of her wrap dress, pinching the soiled, returned panty in one hand.

“I am wearing this half slip, though,” Erin said, revealing the white satin of her half-slip.

“Of course darling, you are a lady,” Nancy said.

“But nothing underneath, though,” Erin said, and now gathered up her half-slip, raising it above her hips, pulling up the last, satiny white curtain. Her bare bottom now coming into Sean’s view from behind, admiring his wife’s posterior, admiring the saucy way she held herself with one hip cocked higher than the other. And when he looked up from Erin’s sweet bottom, he could see Paul and Nancy’s attention was rapt, both sets of eyes fixed intently at the same place, and Sean knew that their gazes were both captured by the sight of his wife’s waxed-bare pussy, puffy and kissably soft.

“Sean, honey would you hold my dress for me, dear,” Erin asked, and in a beat, she heard the weights clank down on the rug, felt her husband’s hands replace hers holding the fabric of her dress and slip, and she with practiced ease, stepped into her fire-range sheer bikini brief, pulling it up over her thighs and hips, settling the sheer back across her ass.

She took the fabric of the dress back from Sean and turned herself around. “Did I do it right?” Erin asked Paul and Nancy. “Is the bottom covering me fully? It’s not giving me a wedgie or anything? Does the sheer stop where it’s supposed to or can you see,” and she paused a beat, “my cunt,” Erin finished with piquant calm.

A wave of magic flushed through all hearing Erin talk about herself so honestly and proudly, the power of the spoken word Holy like a prayer.

“It’s perfect, dear,” Paul said, seated again and his fly re-zipped, all at Nancy’s direction. Erin glimpsing over her shoulder and noticing a bulge of Paul’s own, straining against his zipped fly now.

“Yes, it fits you perfectly, Erin,” Nancy said, feeling the intimacy that could only come from seeing how this younger woman’s cunt so lovingly kissed at the tight fabric covering her nether lips, chastely and securely. As Sean was earlier, this flash of sheer-fire-orange over cleft bursa merkez escort bottom cheeks, though obviously cheekily, arousingly naughty, this flash of fabric revealed nothing indecent and while utterly indecent Erin remained essentially completely covered, Nancy inspected and made sure and yes both asshole and cunt were both unobservable to the naked eye, even if the latter were thoroughly hinted at and outlined by the tightness of the orange nylon-rayon and its tiny cotton gusset.

Erin bending over and parting her thighs, in pretend efforts to “make sure” and for “you guys to check” so that Paul and Nancy could definitely make sure she’s totally covered, totally decent for proper company and champagne, Erin bending and flexing at her waist and sticking her bottom out further and further “am I still covered?”

“Yes, dear,” Paul would reply.

“How about now?” as she flexes and puts a foot up on the put-to-the-side coffee table, where the champagne flutes have been rested as necessary, bending again.

“They look perfect on you, darling,” Nancy saying, seeing the stains on the garment, the stains sprayed out across the sheer nylon covering her host’s lovely bottom, seeing the stiffness of the gusset against Erin’s delicate softness, seeing Erin’s posing and contortions only working that stiff and soiled and sacred fabric deeper into the outline of her labia.

“You’re perfectly covered, dear,” Nancy assured the younger woman, while staring at the clear outline of the younger woman’s sex, completely covered by the panty’s dirtied fabric.

Yet as Nancy thought about the salty white droplets that had soaked that garment, and about what wetness of Erin’s which that soiled fabric was now encountering, she felt a sense of closeness and intimacy with this still-strange woman that she had not felt herself even capable of in a long time, and was thus simultaneously flushed with gratitude for her creative and erotic husband, for all of his talents and fetishes that now led him and her and them back into joy and pleasures such that she once feared closed to her forever.

Erin dropped the hem of her dress and now everything was properly done and decent again.

Everything except Paul and Nancy’s nearly-naked host, still pumping iron in women’s panties in the middle of the room.

Sean faced away from them again, leaning forward on the incline of the bench. His bottom a perfect peach through the black cotton, while he worked his back with chest curls on the incline.

“See,” Erin said, “I love it when they get a little sticky, a little wedgie right through here,” and she took her finger and ran it down the crack of Sean’s panty-covered ass as he lifted.

“That really highlights those cheeks,” Nancy said, slowly. “Doesn’t it Paul?”

But when Paul, surprised, started stammering, Nancy and Erin shared another laugh.

“See how nice his bottom feels through the cotton while he pumps?” Erin said, cupping and squeezing her husband’s right ass cheek. “Come and feel, he doesn’t mind,” she invited Nancy.

“Okay, if you insist,” Nancy said, putting down her champagne flute again.

In a half -second she was next to Erin, patting Sean’s left ass cheek through the cotton panty, and then copping a long, hard feel of the exercising man’s ass.

“Paul, want a feel?” Nancy asked quickly, and then Erin and Nancy cracked up. Even though they were laughing so hard they started to lose their breath, they never took their hands off Sean’s bottom, Paul noticed.

“You see how these exercises really work his back,” Erin said, once they had regained their composure. Ironman Sean kept pumping and lifting the whole time, slow and steady like he was working his muscles to exhaustion. Erin took a painted fingernail and traced a muscle group in Sean’s back that caught her fancy. “See how that works? It’s okay, it’s better if you feel it.”

And so Nancy did and she did. “Ooooooh,” Nancy said, making contact with the younger man’s skin. “I see what you mean. I mean, I feel what you mean.” More girlish laughter.

Sean stopped his exercises, resting the free weights on the floor, and then sitting up on the bench.

“And down here,” Erin said, sliding her hand down Sean’s front, between his chest and the weight bench, sliding her hand out of Paul’s sight but into Sean’s panties. “Well, down here, he’s filling those briefs out rather nicely. You like being watched while you work out?” Erin asked.

“Y-y-yes,” Sean said. Now it’s his turn to stammer, Paul quickly thought.

“You like being watched by Nancy and Paul while you lift weights in panties?”

“Y-y-yes.”

“Who do you like watching you more, Nancy, or Paul?” Erin said, and the two women laughed the hardest they had so far.

“Well, I like what I see,” Nancy said. “And I like seeing how you two celebrate each other, quite lovely, yes. I’m so grateful Paul made your acquaintance, I’m so glad God brought us together.”

“Amen,” Erin said, and the two women smiled at each other, with great meaning and unity as their eyes met this time.

“So how long have you been having Sean work out for you in ladies’ underwear?” Nancy asked.

“Several years now,” Erin said, moving her hand from Sean’s penis up now to his chest. “You see what a positive effect it’s had?” demonstrating her husband’s musculature to her honored guest.

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