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Bdsm

For quite some time, we went on as ‘good little girls’, holding to our pledge not to endanger our marriages with any overt sexual behavior among the three of us. We did celebrate both Caroline’s birthday in June and Charlotte’s in October with a repeat performance of the Super Spa Day and, in both cases, the experience was fabulous. Not being on the receiving end still provided me with a great thrill as I helped my two friends to episodes of spasmodic rapture. I knew, deep in my heart, that contact with female bodies was something that I still craved and these two celebrations only reinforced that knowledge. But, nothing was more important to me than my marriage so I lived by our decision and assumed that my two friends were doing the same.

Things took a turn on a summer day that found the three of us on Caroline’s deck — the same deck where this craziness had begun in the first place. We were enjoying a relaxing day in the sun, reveling in the glorious privacy that the deck afforded. All three of us had stripped down to nothing at all as we were now totally comfortable in revealing our bodies to one another. Caroline had provided fruity cocktails and had refilled our glasses once, so we all had a mild, happy buzz going on. It was quite lovely. And, as in past experiences, it was Caroline who opened the door to a new adventure.

“I have a purely hypothetical situation I’d like to discuss,” she announced. Charlotte and I looked at each other and mouthed a soft “Uh-oh” in unison.

“Hey – I did say hypothetical,” Caroline continued. “Don’t worry. It’s nothing I’m actually proposing. Just something to get the juices flowing.”

Now I knew we were heading into dangerous waters. “Go on. I’m sure we couldn’t stop you even if we wanted to.”

“Okay.” She smiled slyly and gazed off into space before continuing. “Let’s just say that we wanted to . . . initiate another woman into our little club. If you could, what one woman would you most like to seduce?”

Charlotte reacted first. “Are you talking celebrity or just someone we know?”

“Oh, definitely someone we know. I’m looking for a realistic fantasy here.”

At that point, I realized this could be tricky. Once Caroline got an idea in her head, there was little chance of stopping her, whether she claimed it was hypothetical fantasy or not. And since she was talking about real acquaintances, the possibility of carrying through on it was there. So, I decided to stay close-lipped, at least at first.

Charlotte, however, was intrigued. “Okay, I have an idea. But, you first, Caroline. I’m betting you have someone in mind. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have brought this up. Spill.”

Caroline grinned. “You know me so well. Truth is, though, I haven’t been all that successful. The only one I could come up with was Paula Jennings.”

Paula Jennings was a fellow member of our charity group, an attractive woman a few years younger than us. We all knew her a bit but I had always found her to be a bit off-putting due to her habit of flaunting her considerable wealth.

“I don’t see that at all,” I interjected. “She’s obviously lovely to look at but her personality would drive me right up a wall.”

“Yeah,” said Charlotte, “I can’t stand her uppity crap. Nice boobs, though.” That got a laugh from Caroline and me as we both pictured the lovely Paula romping with the three of us. Charlotte broke the reverie by continuing, “Ooh, I’ve got someone!” She seemed genuinely excited.

“Mmm. Pray tell,” asked Caroline the instigator.

Charlotte coyly smiled and half-whispered, “Mrs. Adams.”

It took a moment for the name to register but I finally got it. “Sara Adams? The principal?”

Sara Adams was the principal at the elementary school that our children attended. She was a bit older than us, always impeccably turned out, and quite charming in an educated, stylish way. I had never, however, thought of her in a sexual way. Never. And apparently, neither had Caroline.

“Really?” she said. “Wow, that’s out of left field. But, she is attractive, I guess. And I do love her accent.”

“Oh yes,” smiled Charlotte. “I’m a sucker for a British accent. And hers is so elegant. Hey. I’ve always thought she was dreamy.”

“Well, dreamy or not,” I put in, “just remember this is a fantasy. Good Lord, just imagine the scandal this could cause if we followed through. Sex-crazed school moms attack principal lookin’ for lesbian lovin’. Caroline, don’t even think of it.”

Caroline just smiled. A coy, sardonic smile that told me her brain was already working at warp speed on a potential plan of operation. She wasn’t even bothering to ask me about my nominee. Poor Principal Adams was smack dab in the middle of her horny little crosshairs.

“So, what do we know about the lady, Charlotte?” she asked.

Charlotte was the one of us most actively involved in school matters having served as PTA treasurer and as a class mother, so she had a familiarity with the staff and often clued me in to mini-scandals (rumors of affairs, divorces, parties with drinking, et al) that she heard of. She didn’t illegal bahis disappoint when she began her lecture on the lady of the hour.

“Okay, she’s married. I think he’s in investments. She has a teenage son, either a junior or a senior. Her teachers love her, and fear her a bit. She’s incredibly well-organized and expects the staff to stay on top of things, too. I’m told that she is brilliant at mediating situations where a parent is unhappy with a teacher. She doesn’t take sides but listens to both points of views. She –“

Caroline interrupted. “Enough, Charlotte. We’re not doing an FBI report on her educational policies. Tell us about the woman. Any dirt at all? Does she like wine? Does she have a sense of humor? What could we use to get at her?”

“Okay. I have gotten to know her a little. We’ve chatted a bit at dinners and she’s really cool. She has a great sense of humor and I get the impression she’s just a tiny bit naughty, but, of course, she has to be careful about exposing that side of her personality.”

“Give us an example,” Caroline posed.

Charlotte thought a moment and came up with a memory. “Once, we were watching a PTA fashion show and I happened to be right beside her at a large round table. One of the parents modeling had on a dress that showed off her figure nicely and Mrs. Adams leaned over to me and quietly whispered, “If I had that body, that dress wouldn’t last five minutes with my husband.”

“Hmm. That is a bit provocative. I mean, for an elementary school principal to say that to a parent she doesn’t know well.” Caroline looked encouraged.

“I thought so, too. And, once she said it, I got the impression that she almost wished she hadn’t. She blushed a bit and made sort of an ‘oops’ face.”

As I sat there listening, I could tell that both of my friends were enjoying the conversation. I could actually use Charlotte’s nipples as a barometer of the level of excitement she was experiencing. As her story progressed, they got more and more erect. With Caroline, every time she presented a comment or question, her voice got steamier. At one point, her hand brushed across her chest, lightly providing a mini-caress of her breasts. Interesting, in light of the fact that the conversation to this point had hardly been x-rated.

“Well, ladies,” I decided to enter the conversation. “I hope you’re enjoying yourselves. Just remember — not gonna happen. Do not even think of trying anything here.”

Charlotte looked at Caroline. Caroline looked at Charlotte. And I knew I had absolutely no shot at stopping their mission of seduction.

***

The next time that I heard of it was a week later in Charlotte’s kitchen. I avoided the topic but she brought it up, explaining that Caroline had come over to her house the very next day and, while totally sober, they had discussed methods that they thought might work. I made one last feeble attempt to reason with Charlotte but she had a ready response.

“Look, Em. We’re not going to do anything stupid, I promise. We’re going to see if we can figure out a way to get her into a social situation. Just have her over for a girl talk deal and see where it leads. We’ll read how it’s going and react accordingly. If nothing’s there, she’ll never know what we were thinking. And, of course, we want you to be there.”

She made it sound quite rational but I still hoped it wouldn’t come about. Hence, when I learned, a mere week later, that it was all set, I just shook my head and hoped we all wouldn’t end up on the six o’clock news.

Charlotte had called on the good lady at the school. Even though it was summer vacation for the students, she was there working. Our Charlotte presented herself as a concerned parent who wanted to offer her services in any way she could to help make the school a better place. Mrs. Adams appeared appreciative and they brainstormed over things Charlotte might do to help. After a bit, Charlotte mentioned her two friends, both parents of students, who had extensive fund-raising experience due to their work on a charity organization. She knew they’d love to help as well so perhaps Mrs. Adams would like to come over to her house one day and have a chat? The principal jumped at the idea.

So it was that the four of us were at Charlotte’s house on a rather gloomy, humid day. I felt I had to attend, if for no other reason than to ‘reel them in’ should the need arise. The three of us were casually dressed in shorts and summer tops while Mrs. Adams looked the professional in a smart sleeveless Indian cotton jumper. We spent the first half hour chatting, getting to know her, and she really was a delight. She shared some of her personal life and asked us about ours, never dominating the conversation but appearing to be genuinely interested in us. As I listened, I came to see why Charlotte would find her so attractive. Her English accent was indeed mesmerizing and she was not only physically attractive, but she knew how to work her beauty to the fullest — with just the right amount of makeup and restrained use of accessories. A very classy woman, indeed.

Our illegal bahis siteleri talk began to center on the school and we actually came up with some positive suggestions for ways to raise money that could be put to good use for school materials and activities. Sara, as she insisted we call her, positively glowed at the idea that three women of good social standing would be so willing to assist. I, for one, was happy to leave it at that but I knew my two schemers were sitting there wondering how to move the conversation elsewhere.

The opening came when Sara complimented Charlotte on her beautiful home and Charlotte asked if she’d like a tour. She said she would and off we went, Caroline and I tagging along even though we knew the house quite intimately. Of course, the tour ended up in the master bedroom, scene of that crazy, unforgettable night involving three inebriated couples, and it was Caroline who fired the first salvo across the bow.

“Lovely big bed, Charlotte,” she purred. “Wish it could talk.”

“Caroline, please. Sara will get the wrong impression about us,” Charlotte scolded.

“Sara,” said Caroline, with a look that reeked of innocence, “You’re not a nun, are you?”

Sara smiled and, like a moth drawn to the web, unwittingly played along. “No, hardly. And just because I’m a school principal, ladies, don’t think I’m not human. That does look like a place to get good and busy.”

We all laughed and nodded our confirmation before leaving the room. Back in the living room, we sat and chatted on all sorts of topics, none related to the little school on the hill. Sara filled us in on her personal life, telling us how she came to America for a college semester and decided this was where she wanted to live her life. She married the first man she ever loved and some 20 years later, felt it had been the best decision of her life.

Caroline was itching to take the conversation to more adventurous ground, so she asked, “Is it still as good as it was when you were younger? I mean, and please don’t take this the wrong way, because you’re absolutely lovely, but you are, I believe, a tiny bit older than us and I’d love to know that the passion doesn’t have to fade as a marriage goes on.” I’m pretty sure Sara saw me rolling my eyes at Caroline’s forwardness, but she took it in stride. “I can’t speak for others, Caroline, but I’m certainly lucky in that regard. We, um, do just fine, thank you very much.”

Our chat went on a bit longer and, thankfully, focused on more mundane topics. Sara left first, thanking Charlotte for her hospitality and reminding us that she planned to follow through on our offers to help. Since nothing of note had happened, I felt some relief and hoped that my two friends would just admit that it wasn’t to be.

Charlotte disappointed me. “Isn’t she just lovely? She just radiates style and elegance and I wish this wasn’t a hypothetical game because I want her.” She said want with such emphasis that I knew she wasn’t done.

Caroline smiled and answered, “Well then, sweetie, consider today groundwork. We made contact, we got just the tiniest bit forward. All right, I got the tiniest bit forward but it was all in a good cause. And you heard her. She is no nun.”

So. Was I surprised two weeks later when I turned up at Caroline’s house for some sundeck sunshine and saw Sara Adams lying contentedly on a chaise lounge wearing a lovely hounds tooth patterned bikini? Yes, actually, I was. But I had long since learned that Caroline pursued ideas with a single-mindedness that would’ve served military generals well. And in this campaign, she was not alone, for on another lounge, Charlotte was busily applying sunscreen as I arrived. Interesting, I thought, that I hadn’t been told about Sara’s attendance.

“Well, Mrs. Adams,” I exclaimed in greeting, “so you’re a sun worshipper.”

Sara smiled up at me and practically purred, “Really, Emily, how could I resist? This approaches paradise.” Paradise suited her because she looked quite lovely reclining before me. She was a tall woman, right around 40 years old, I guessed, and I was close — 41. She was a typically pale-skinned Englishwoman with raven tresses and a trim, athletic figure.

“I do hope you’ve slathered on the sunscreen. You’re so fair.”

“Oh, yes, Caroline made sure of that.” She smiled toward her hostess and I couldn’t help but be struck at the similarities between this day and the one that Caroline and I went through which quite changed our lives. So, when Caroline headed into her kitchen for drinks, I was on her heels.

“Em, you look so . . . quizzical. Whatever’s on your mind?” she asked.

“Quite a bit, actually. For the first time, I’m wondering if that first day, on your deck, was one that just developed spontaneously. Or, is this something you’ve done before, and since?”

Caroline looked surprised and hurt. “Are you serious?” She suddenly looked quite concerned. “Emily (whole name, for emphasis, I figured), what happened between you and me was a glorious, unexpected miracle for me. I hate to hear you saying that you think canlı bahis siteleri I could’ve been . . . conniving with you.”

“Well, let’s admit it,” I responded, “you and Charlotte are certainly conniving today.”

Caroline paused in her addition of vodka to the fruity drink base before her and gave a bemused shrug. “Guilty on that count, but really, never before. And between our day and now? Never. Now, lighten up. Let’s go have some fun.”

We returned to the deck to find Charlotte and Sara chatting about England. Sara had grown up in a resort town on the south coast and was telling Charlotte about the English love of beaches and the sun. “Of course, we did get our share of bleak days but when it did shine, folks would come out in masses. It was hysterical to see all those albino-like Englishmen and women looking like lobsters after a day of soaking up the rays.”

“Any nude sunbathing done over there?” asked Caroline as she refilled her guests’ glasses.

“Yes, actually there is. It’s condoned in specified areas.”

Caroline the spider spun on. “Now, be honest, Sara. Did you ever?”

Her quarry was happy to oblige. “Well, when I was of an age that might do so, it wasn’t so readily accepted, but, yes, once or twice I slipped off my top. Felt wonderful, really. So liberating. What about you three? My goodness, with the way this deck is configured, I’d think you’d have done it right here.”

Dear God, I thought, was this really a seduction? Or was this woman a willing participant in a little afternoon fun with the girls? She certainly wasn’t bashful about sexy topics.

“Actually, we have,” offered Charlotte. “I mean, it’s just us girls, after all, and it feels so good to really feel the sun’s rays . . . um, everywhere.” She smiled coyly, looking so innocent, and I almost giggled aloud as I watched her guile at work.

“Well,” answered Sara with a grin, “please don’t let me be the one to stop you.” Charlotte giggled softly and immediately lowered the straps of her bikini top and tugged a bit so the cups dropped below her breasts. In one movement, she rotated the garment and undid the clasp. She casually tossed it to the deck surface and settled back down into a reclining position. Done and done. I noticed that throughout this process, Sara watched for a bit and then made an exaggerated show of casualness as she looked away. She did, however, make sure to sneak a final peek before closing her eyes and resuming her sun worship. What she didn’t do was remove her top. Caroline had released her glorious boobs from their restraints while I, having gotten down to my one-piece suit earlier, chose to keep my girls under wraps. We quietly lounged for several minutes before I excused myself to use the bathroom.

When I came out, I found Sara in the kitchen finishing off a glass of water. We exchanged smiles and she then indirectly cut to the chase. “So, Emily. I sense you’re worried for my safety.”

I was forced to reply in my ‘I have no idea what you mean’ voice, saying, “Sara, I have no idea what you mean.”

She shook her head and purred, “Oh, I’m quite sure you do. You are under the impression that I’m quite unaware of the little game your two chums are playing.” I said nothing, hoping she’d continue, which she did. “Caroline and Charlotte are in the act of attempting to seduce me. Now, I don’t know if it’s some sort of a bet or if they seriously want to get cozy with me but, rest assured, I do know what’s underway.” After a short pause, she added, “And I sense you are either an unwillingly participant or someone totally against their endeavor.” A principal she may be, I thought, but she could’ve done just fine in a British court of law wearing one of those silly wigs their barristers wear. It was all I could do to stop myself from crying out, “Yes! Yes! You’re right, we’re all so guilty!”

Instead, I bit my lip and considered what to say. “You’re way too smart for them. Although, they really are transparent, aren’t they?” We shared a soft laugh and I continued, “I’m very curious as to your plan of response. Trust me, anything I can do to assist in reducing them to shamed little girls, I’d be honored.”

Sara thought for a moment and eventually said, “Let me give it some thought. For today, I’m going to gently encourage them — make them think I’m . . . attainable. And then, perhaps, you and I can decide on some course of action to catch them in their own game.”

“I like the way you think. I’m on board.”

So, we returned to the deck, resumed sunning, both of us remaining under cover. After a few minutes, Sara sat up and softly called out, “Charlotte, would you be a dear and let me use some of your lotion?” Charlotte nodded and rose from her chaise, tube in hand. I doubt if she was expecting to see Sara Adams reaching around to the middle of her back and unclipping her bikini top as Charlotte approached. But that was what was happening. Sara worked the clip loose and seductively cupped the underside of her breasts as the straps fell from her shoulders. She smiled up at Charlotte with a look that I can only describe as wanton. From my seat, I could see her lovely breasts just about exposed but Sara was masterful in the buildup — slowly, oh so slowly, she relaxed the pressure of her hands until, nipples and all, her quite beautiful pair were there for the looking.

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