The prompt for this week’s Wicked Wednesday is “Ode to your favourite sex toy”. I started out to write a piece of erotica based around a toy I recently used for the first time and have become quite enamoured with but I got a little caught up in a fantasy shared with me and the story has grown quite large. My submission this week is the first instalment of the story.
As usual make sure you visit the Wicked Wednesday page to peruse all of the other fantastic entries.
As he turned the key in the lock Howard was gripped by the feeling that he was doing something wrong. It didn’t deter him; instead it enticed him further. The door swung open and he stepped over the threshold. His hear pounded in his ears as he made his way through the living area towards her bedroom. Around him were signs of ordinary life, a stray breakfast bowl in the sink of the kitchen, and an open homework book lay beside an iPad on the kitchen table. For a fleeting moment he was reminded that this was where she did all the ordinary things every day with her family: cooking meals, supervising homework, discussing bills and dentist appointments with her husband. But these thoughts flitted out of his head as quickly as they had come. His visit wasn’t about that, the everyday version was not the version he was here to see, when he saw her she wasn’t that person, she was someone else entirely.
He paused in the open bedroom door taking a moment to savour the feeling of anticipation building in him. Like the kitchen the bedroom held traces of ordinary life, hastily pulled up bedcovers, a pair of shoes beside the bed, a dress thrown across the bed perhaps discarded in favour of another one as she dressed that morning. His eye travelled to the corner of her bedroom, beside the doorway to her bathroom. Here stood the laundry basket, the goal of his mission. For long minutes he stood there unable to move. He wanted so badly to rush across the room to kneel beside the basket and shove his face into it. But something stopped him: Maybe it was the feeling that he was intruding on her private space because she wasn’t there to invite him in, maybe it was just the disbelief that he was here doing this after fantasising about it for so long.
Eventually the spell was broken and he was able to move towards the object of so many fantasies. As he moved closer he was rewarded with the sight of pink lace peeking at him from the top of the clothes piled in the hamper. One large stride and then he was on his knees in front of the basket; like a pilgrim kneeling at the entrance to the shrine they had sought all their life. Almost reverently he reached in an picked up the satiny garment. He had never seen these knickers before, she had never sent him a photo of her wearing them, nor had she ever worn them when they had met but as he lifted them to his face and inhaled the scent of them, they were unmistakably hers.
His mind filled with the thought of the cotton gusset nestled against her cunt as she went about her day, dealing with mundane, ordinary things all the while secreting sweet juice that left the residue he now inhaled. The tightness in his jeans reminded him of his cock that had been hard the moment he had stepped off his bike and made his way up the front steps to her door. Now it throbbed painfully demanding to be released from its constraints. Slowly he stood up and made his way over to the bed where laid out the panties neatly so that he could look at them while he undressed. Teasing himself he slipped his shirt over his head and folded it neatly before reaching for the clasp of his jeans. The feeling of relief barely registered as he slid his jeans down over his knees, his eyes remained fixed on the knickers on the bed. The thought of them wrapped around his cock filled his mind, obliterating every other thought.
His jeans added to the neatly folded pile, followed by his boxers before he allowed himself to reach down and pick up the thin, silky lace garment. Slowly, using all of his restraint he lifted the soft pink fabric to his face again. He inhaled deeply, letting the smell of her fill his senses. Automatically his hand wrapped around his cock gripping the hardness, stroking automatically in a slow steady rhythm. He had forgotten all of his fears about being caught or trespassing in someone’s private space, he was completely lost in the moment and feeling of his fantasy. After a while he took her panties away from his face and turned back to the basket. With his cock jutting out in front of him he bent down and rummaged through the clothing, a flash of white cotton caught his eye and he extracted a pair of soft white cotton knickers from the basket. The aroma he inhaled was older and more musky than the first pair.
Acting completely on impulse he bent down and stepped into them and pulled them up over his ass. His cock strained against the cotton fabric, creating a wet spot of its own above the yellow stain of hers. He moved back to the bed, noting carefully how the fabric moved against him, restricting his erection while the elastic around the legs cut into his thighs. The dress discarded on the bed caught his eye. Suddenly the temptation was too great, he picked it up and slipped it over his head pulling it down over his body. He twisted his body back and forth focussing on the sensation of the skirt playing over his erection. This was a whole new realm of experience, nothing like anything he had ever done or felt. In the mirror on the other side of the room he caught a glimpse of his reflection. It seemed as if the person he saw there was a complete stranger, a weird clashing mix of man and woman. Not attractive in a classical sense but alluring and strangely enticing. Completely absorbed in his own thoughts he twisted this way and that noting how the skirt of his dress caught on his erection and how badly the bodice fitted over his chest, stretching at the shoulders and sagging where her breasts would normally be.
Corrupting Mrs Jones 