Act of Submission

Crime and Punishment

The Boarder

The Boarder
 
Brian Houlihan
 
 
It all started when I rented a basement apartment from this middle aged German couple in the Ravenswood neighborhood of Chicago.  Werner and Frieda, both in their fifties, did not stand out in a crowd.  If you saw them on the street you would probably think them the most nondescript couple of all.  That's the impression I had too, when I first rented the small apartment.

I was at a real low point in my life.  I had just split up with my wife, Pat, and she had the old apartment in the suburbs.  Now I was on my own in the city, working a clerical job at a film production house downtown.  I was approaching forty years old and I just seemed to be adrift.  But thank God I had a job when I signed the lease for the apartment.  Frieda showed it to me.  It was neat, clean, and cheap.  Perfect for me.  I filled out the application and she seemed pleasant, cordial, but nothing out of the ordinary.  As I said, she appeared kind of nondescript.  About five six, dyed brown hair, blue eyes, big tits, big ass.  Dressed conservatively.

She said she would check my credit and get back to me.  Fine.  I was staying at a motel downtown.  She phoned me that night, which seemed awfully quick.  I was approved and could move in immediately.  She said she wouldn't begin to charge me until the first of the month.  Since this was the third week in April that was very generous. My old buddy Ray had a truck and he helped me m
ove.  I didn't have much stuff so it was no biggie.

I liked living in the city, as opposed to the suburbs, and went for walks as often as I could.  However, the apartment was in the basement and it didn't get much light.  It was dark a lot and kind of gloomy.  If I was depressed this dark quality just added to it.

I ran into Frieda one Saturday morning. She was watering the lawn in the back yard.  She was wearing shorts and she looked nice. "Hi David."

"Hi Mrs. Schmidt.  You look nice in those shorts."

"Why thank you!  Oh David, Werner and I want you to come for dinner tomorrow night.  Seven pm.  Upstairs."

The way she said it, she didn't even consider me not accepting.  I was hesitant.  But she was the landlord and I wanted to be on their good side. "Um..okay.  Thank you.  I'll be there, Mrs. Schmidt."
She smiled and continued watering the grass.

Dinner was a bit tense.  Frieda seemed to want to draw me out, but she also seemed very nosy.
"Do you have a girlfriend?  I would think a good looking man like you would have several."

"No, not really.  I just split up with my wife.  But thanks for the compliment."

"Well I'm sure it's her loss.  You'll have another one in no time. Probably better looking."

She kept staring and smiling at me.  Her attention made me a bit uneasy.

Werner said almost nothing.  Just ate with his head down.  But Frieda definitely wore the pants in that family. "Werner, more wine!"

He'd pop up out of his chair, go into the kitchen, and return with a fresh bottle of German wine, which he poured for everyone.  I got the impression he worked as some kind of contractor.

"Are you going out to the clubs to meet girls, David?"

"Uh..not that much."

"Well it's best to get back into the swim of things.  You know, like getting thrown from a horse.  You just jump right back on.  Don't let the horse intimidate you."

"I'm sure that's good advice."

They served pot roast and it was delicious.  After dinner, we had some brandy in the living room.  They had a nice big apartment, two bedroom. "Do you like brandy, David?"

"Oh yes.  I love to drink."

"Ha.  Ha.  What else do you love?"

"That's a secret."

Frieda chuckled and smiled at me.  She enjoyed repartee like that.  And I was positive she wanted to know all of my secrets.  But what were hers?

As I was leaving their place to return to my apartment downstairs, she walked me to the back door and then kissed me on the cheek.  That seemed odd.  For the first dinner with the new boarder.  Oh well.  She smelled good and her big tits felt good too.

The following Saturday morning I was sleeping in late.  The job was boring and it looked like it might be ending soon.  The office gossip was that they were in trouble.  Financial trouble.  I picked up a bottle of vodka on my way home and drank it in my room.

There was a knock at the door.  Weird.  I didn't know anybody in the neighborhood and it wouldn't be Ray, he would have called me.  I got out of bed and opened the door a sliver.  It was Frieda.  She had on new jeans and low heels. "Hi David.  I hope I didn't wake you."

She glanced down at my crotch and I realized I was semi hard in my jockey shorts. "Uh no, Frieda.  Kind of a big night.  What can I do for you?"
"I want you to come shopping with me.  Just some groceries.  It'll be fun."

I stood there for a minute.  I really didn't feel like going.  But there was something about her.  I looked up again and she glanced at my dick again and smiled. "Throw some jeans on and meet me in the garage in ten minutes."

"Okay."

After I shut door, I touched my dick and I was now rock hard, thinking of her smile and her looking at my crotch.  Did Frieda want me sexually? That's the vibe I got.  But what about her husband?  Hey, she was in charge.

These thoughts ran thru my head while I threw some clothes on and ran an electric razor over my face.

Frieda beamed with a big smile when I arrived in the garage.  They had a late model Lincoln Town Car so business must be pretty good for her and Werner. As we drove to the store I realized I enjoyed being in her company. There was something mysterious about her.  What were her motives?  I was bored and quite lonely.  Didn't really have any friends in the city, with the exception of Ray.  So I was flattered that she was taking an interest in me.

She was kind of amusing in the store.  She would pick something out and put it in her basket, then explain why she chose that item.

She lit up in the cosmetics section. "Did you know I dye my hair?"

"No."   (I lied.) "You're not a very good lair, David.  But you are sweet."

Here she slapped me on the ass affectionately.  I got hard.  As the day wore on she was touching me more and more. "Ever thought about giving yourself some highlights in your hair?"

"No."

"You have pretty hair."

Touching my hair and my neck.  I loved her fingers on me.  My dick was out and tingling.  Could she see it?

"Have you ever thought about shaving your legs?"

"No."

"You have very nice legs.  Womanly.  A lot of girls would kill for your legs," she laughs. I didn't know how to take it.

She liked to buy all the tabloids too. "I love to read all the dirt and scandals.  The more dirt the better."
Here she slapped my ass again, but this time her hand lingered on it.

When we returned home, I offered to help her put her things away. "Oh no, I've bothered you enough.  Go chase some girls,"  then another swat on the butt.

Returning to my apartment, I had a full fledged, wet hard on.  I had had it for half of the time with her.  I made myself a drink and began fantasizing about Frieda Schmidt.  Did she want to have sex with me?  It sure seemed like it.  Did she know I was very, very turned on by dominant women? How could she know that?

I took a nap and woke up later with a very wet crotch.  I had had a great wet dream about her dominating me.  Then I jacked off and had a wonderful cum.

The following week I was let go from the job.  Yeah, they were in trouble all right.  And now so was I.  Now I was really depressed.  Of course I was around the apartment now on week days.  I would see Frieda now and then and she was always friendly.  Thank God she didn't ask me about my job.  That was tactful.

On Friday she knocked on my door and asked if I would like to make some extra money?  Sure.  She needed her garage cleaned.  It was filthy.  She would pay me fifty bucks.  Great!  I set to work immediately.  It took me several hours.

When I was finished I was very proud of my work.  I had removed about 18 full bags of trash from the place.  I thought about knocking on her door and asking for the money.  But then thought against that.  Maybe she knew I was out of work.  That was classy.  Why not just wait until she brings it up and pays me?

I must confess here that I was thinking about her a lot and jacking off a lot. She was the main character in my fantasies.

The following Monday she knocked on my door.  It was early afternoon. She seemed a bit dressed up, make up and a nice skirt and pressed blouse.  The blouse showcased her big tits.

"Ah.  You're in.  Good.  You did such a good job, cleaning the garage, I want  you to come up and have a drink."

By this time I didn't even consider turning her down.  I didn't know where this was going.   But I was enjoying it.  It did not go unnoticed that she didn't bring this up until she was alone and Werner was at work.

I was dressed casually in jeans.  I knocked on her back door and she led me into the living room.  There were two drinks on the coffee table. Strong drinks.  Manhattans.  She paid me the fifty bucks and handed me my drink.  I was semi hard in my pants.  I noted the drinks seemed to have no effect on her.  She was crossing her legs a lot.  Was this a date?  With her husband coming home some time?  Intense staring at me.  Had she been having wet dreams too?

"David, do you ever feel like something is missing in your life?"
"Yeah.  Sometimes."

I noticed her playing with her high heels a lot.  Kind of twirling and displaying them.

"You are such a sweet boy.  But you seem sort of lost.  Without direction."

I just sat there and took this in, the whiskey burning a hole in my belly. She smiled and poured us more Manhattans from a large pitcher she had made.

"It seems like you just need some discipline, something to motivate you."

I said nothing. But the word discipline started to get my prick hard. And that intense stare of hers, like a cat eyeing a mouse.  A trapped mouse. Did she know I was into dominant women somehow?  How? Now she was rubbing my leg.  Cast iron boner.  I couldn't believe she was being so intimate.  I hadn't had sex with anybody in ages.

"Do you mind me touching you, David?"

"No!  it's nice."

"Good hon.  I like you.  And I like touching you.  Do you like me?"

"Yes Mrs. Schmidt."

"Frieda."

"Frieda"

"That's better."

Now her hand was rubbing my mid thigh.  My dick was punching my pants. "David, I want us to be close.  I think it will be good for both of us."

I was stunned.  I didn't know what to say.

She leaned over and kissed me softly on the lips.  Then her tongue entered my mouth.  Boldly roaming around and then sucking my tongue. Her perfume smelled nice.  She was wearing more of it than usual. Squeezing my leg.  She sipped her drink and just stared at me.  Then another long, sexy kiss, rubbing my leg.

"Stand up, hon."

I stood up.  What now?  Did she have some kind of plan? She seemed bold.  I was a bit scared. She just smiled at me as she sipped her drink. "Take your pants off, honey."

I just stood there.  Was she serious? "Well, do it!  Go on!  Don't just stand there!"

Her voice was suddenly bossy.  Trembling and very nervous, I undid my belt and attempted to remove my pants.  It was very awkward because I tried to take the pants off over my shoes, but it wouldn't work.  So I had to sit down and unlace and remove my shoes.  My hands were shaking.  I was under her spell.  She just sat there sipping her drink and smiling, as if she was quite used to this.

Finally I was standing in front of her in my jockey briefs and a t shirt.  My dick was rock hard.  And wet. "Down boy!"

With that she slapped my dick.  Hard.  I doubled over in pain. "Bad boys get hard without permission."

Now I was getting frightened. "Come here."

I stood in front of her.  She pulled me in between her legs.  She was still smiling at me and rubbing the backs of my legs. "Such a pretty girl."

The next thing I knew I was over her lap.  This was taking on a dream like quality.  Then she pulled down my jockey briefs.  Then she was stroking my ass cheeks and my upper thighs.  The air was electric with sexual tension.  I was almost afraid to breathe.  But I did savor her being in charge, Frieda making all the decisions for me.

"Just relax hon.  Momma's gonna give you a good spank and you can have a good cry."

Now I was scared.  It was all like a strange dream.  But my dick was harder than ever. Crack!  Crack!

"Ow!"

"Shhh.  Quiet baby.  Don't be a bad girl."

The two spanks were hard.  My ass was stinging.  But god I was excited. "Such a pretty girlie ass and asshole."

Her fingers playing on my ass, then in my crack, then probing my anus. Had she planned it this way? CRACK!  CRACK!  CRACK!  CRACK!  CRACK! She was incrediby strong.  It hurt.  I was crying already. "Ow!  Oww!  Frieda no, that hurts!"

"Shh. Quiet baby.  Momma loves you. This is for your own good."

I could hear myself crying and sobbing.  Like a child. Her fingers on my ass, then on my balls, thighs, then squuezing my dick. She knew it was turning me on. CRACK!  CRACK! CRACK!  CRACK!  CRACK! Next thing I knew I was bawling my eyes out.  Wailing loudly.  Then she'd be stroking me again.

"Shhhh.  Moma's here honey.  It's all right."

Then I could feel her finger going into my asshole.  Just a little. Then a little more.  Then she pulled her finger out and grasped my rock hard dick. "You little whore!"

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! Wailing some more, hiccuping and shaking with fear. "Almost finished baby.  Almost over Precious."

I could hear myself crying loudly.  Then it was quiet.  Then she was touching my dick again.  Slowly jacking it.  She must have known exactly how close I was.  Suddenly I went over into this dreamlike cum, my dick kept pumping and pumping and pumping, with her help.  I shot a big load right away.  I seemed to just keep cumming for a long, long time and then she kept jacking me after I came. Long after.  It got painful. "Ow!  Frieda!  Stop!"

"Shhhhh."

My face was soaking wet from crying.  It was like I had reverted to childhood or something.  Thirty nine years old and bawling like a baby. Post orgasmic euphoria.  My dick and balls felt drained and wonderful. Now she was stroking my ass again and my thighs. "Good girl. You are such a good girl."

I seemed to cry and heave for a long, long  time. Then a long silence while she stroked me.

"Stand up honey."

Finally I stood up.  On wobbly legs.  In a dream.  My dick was soft. There was a puddle of cum on her carpet.  My  jockey shorts were in a heap on the floor.  As I stood there I realized that that was easily the best orgasm I had ever experienced. She was smiling at me.  Beaming.  Her face was wet and disheveled.

"Such a pretty girl."

Then she was up and embracing me, kissing me, her tongue in my mouth, sucking my tongue, in control, stroking my ass, whimpering with pleasure.

"That was wonderful.  I knew that's what my baby needed.  And now I've got a present for a good girl who took her first spanking for Momma."

Frieda  picked up her skirt and removed her panties.  They were full cut cotton, purple colored.  They looked very, very wet.  She smiled at me and then held then open for me. "Don't just stand there, Stupid.  Step in."

I stepped into the soiled, wet panties of this in charge woman and she pulled them up my legs and smoothed them around my very spent dick and balls. "I want you in panties whenever I see you David.  Did you hear me?"

"Yes Frieda."

"Mommy.  You call me Mommy now."
"Yes Mommy."

She kissed me on the lips and patted my hair, like I was a pet that had performed well.
"Okay Precious.  Get dressed and get out of here."

In a total sex daze, I got into my clothes.  As I was about to leave, I picked up my jockey shorts.  She grabbed them out of my hand. "Give me those.  Girls wear panties.  Not this shit.  Understand?"
"Yes Mommy."

She swatted me on the ass. "Now scoot."

 That was the begining.

Read more . . .

Ms Andre Dates My Dad

Ms Andre Dates My Dad

Jeffrey214

I was about 12 years old when my mother passed away. After that, I lived with my father, Ted, in our little 3 bedroom house. Dad worked in an insurance office of some kind, a fairly boring job, but he loved me and took very good care of me. Dad was had dark brown hair, blue eyes and pale skin like me. He was about 5'9" tall and was a muscular 160 lbs, fairly handsome, and of a quiet and intelligent personality.

I grew up watching him work hard to make our home and we were happy. Dad didn't date much during all that time, but when I had just turned 18 and my dad was 38, he met a woman named Jordan Andre and he fell in love. They began dating regularly and Dad was happier than I'd seen him in a long time. I met her early on since it seemed she always came to our house to pick dad up for dates, and she drove her large Mercedes. She was taller, perhaps 5'11", well over 6' in her heels, quite curvy but not overweight at all. She dressed very feminine in a sort of austere way, heels, skirt, lacey blouse, sharp jacket, and some jewelry, adorned her stunning black hair, grey eyes, and authoritative manner. I remember hearing my father, even from the earliest dates, respond to her with "yes, dear", or if she was giving a firm instruction, "yes, ma'am". I just thought it was their way, and it seemed very natural, so I started addressing her that way with "yes, ma'am," and she would smile and call me a 'good boy', just the same way she did to dad.

She was very beautiful and I had a crush on her too. She was so beautiful, so powerful, and she had an air of dignity and leadership about her. She treated me very well, giving me hugs and little pats on my bottom, kisses on my cheeks, always very concerned and caring about what was happening in my life. She was very maternal toward me but never gave the feeling that she could or would replace my mother in my heart, but that she would provide me with female guidance and wisdom to help me.

She was some kind of doctor, and I later learned she was an urologist, a doctor specializing in the treatment of male genitals, especially fertility issues, and had her own successful practice in the city. She lived in a big house set well back from the road in a ritzy area; clearly she had money which was something we never really did. I had learned that Ms. Andre had two daughters older than me, one was 21 and the other was 23, both were studying at university.

FIRST SLEEP OVER

After she and my father had dated a few months, there came a time when Ms. Andre invited my dad and I to visit her home and stay over a night. Her daughters were still at university so it would only be the three of us.

When Saturday came, she picked us up in her Mercedes and took us about half an hours' drive to an exclusive area outside of town.

Her home was magnificent. She had gardeners, a pool boy, and cleaning ladies that came each week to keep things spotless. She showed dad and I to our rooms, which were small quarters off the service area (kitchen, laundry, and pantry). They must have been servants' quarters in the house's design.

Dad and I got settled in and then we went to the living room to sit for a while and talk. I got bored pretty quickly and Ms Andre offered that I could give myself a tour of the house, and then hang out in the game and watch TV or play pool, whatever.

I strolled around from room to room and noticed two unusual things.

First, that there were works of art all around; statues, photos, paintings, and virtually every one of them featured male nudity in some way. There was a large portrait in the hallway of a muscular man, very well endowed, lying naked above silk sheets as though asleep. The view was from the foot of the bed, looking down on him between his spread thighs, his heavy testicles lewdly revealed in his relaxed scrotum, and his thick and long penis laying across his thigh, veins and the underside of his crown detailed exquisitely. The man in the painting had no visible pubic hair, as though it was shaved, so that his genitals were fully displayed without anything to hide them. I felt my penis thickening in my pants, somehow it was exciting to see a naked man so clearly. I was not excited to look at him as much as I felt it would be wonderful to be him, a nude model, painted by a woman, then the painting owned by a woman for women's eyes to feast upon for all time. My penis throbbed again. How many women had thereby 'seen' him naked? Over how many years had his perfection been untouched by age and enjoyed by women?

The second unusual thing was that I noticed small paddles here and there, some casually left on a table or bureau, some hanging by a leather thong on the wall near a doorway or as part of a display. The more I looked around, the more different paddles I saw. There was wood, leather, combinations, a strap with a handle, a small whip with many leather strips in a bundle, each in its own special place. Many had little hearts or other feminine insignias. Words like "love", "tender care", "nurture" as though these were accoutrements of a loving home. One black leather paddle was branded "for a naughty boy", and that made my penis throb. So many implements in so many places, a person wouldn't have to walk 10 paces in this house to get their hands on one. I imagined being across Ms. Andre's lap having my bottom swatted and found it was an exciting image.

So it seemed that Ms Andre liked to look at the naked male form, and she had a thing for spanking implements. I didn't know if she had used them to spank her daughters, but with all the art around, I sort of suspected she liked to spank boys. Perhaps even spanking grown men. I finally arrived at my destination -- the game room.

In the middle of the game room was great pool table and I knocked some balls around for a while. I noticed several stacks of magazines and started looking through them. I was amazed to find that many of them were 'Playgirl', not that I should be shocked, given the art on the walls. I looked through them, seeing the pictures of the naked men and felt a strange sensation in my belly, thinking of the totally-hot Ms. Andre enjoying so many explicit pictures of naked males in both flaccid and erect states, and over so many years of subscription.

I looked around in some drawers in the bookcases and found some picture books. In them were many snapshots of Ms. Andre in pretty dresses posing next to men who were completely naked. Big penises, small penises, flaccid, erect, circumcised, uncircumcised, it ran the whole gamut of male nudity. She was always smiling. I wondered how she knew so many men and why they posed nude with her.

I found another book, hidden in the back. In this book, there were pictures of many different women in many states of dress, even some in exciting lingerie, but never naked. What they all had in common was that each picture featured a naked man across their laps, bottom up, receiving a spanking with her bare hand or a paddle of some kind. It appeared that the spankings were severe as many of the lighter-skinned men had very red bottoms and some with real bruises. As I turned the pages I saw men strapped down over a gym horse of some kind and a woman was using a long thin strip of wood on their bottoms, leaving angry red streaks and some close up pictures of the men's bottoms with real welts.

My bottom tightened involuntarily as I looked at these photos, and I couldn't explain why my penis was getting stiffer in my pants again. There was something exciting about males being naked and women being clothed. The men were vulnerable and the women were powerful, especially when a woman was spanking the man and especially when the man was tied down, helpless and naked, receiving strokes from the long canes. I put the books away carefully so that my perusal would not be discovered.

I looked at some books on the shelves and saw a section where the Author was "Victoria Andre, Phd." I saw that they had titles like "Men in the care of Women", "A Lady's guide to keeping an obedient husband", and "Domestic discipline for the female-led household". One that I had to take down and look at was "New ways to properly clothe your man". In this book, there were various garments, mostly underwear, swimwear, and 'house clothes', all designed by the Author. The drawings and pictures showed that all of these clothes were designed specifically to display male genitalia by 'presenting' the genitals in thin and sheer 'pouches'. There were even trousers designed with an opening at the crotch so that the pouch of the undergarment displayed the man's genitals. There were pictures of male models on a catwalk in all of the underwear and outfits, strutting before an audience of happy clapping women.

The last book was "A Bride's guide to better marriage ceremony". It was filled with advice and pictures showing how to spank a man, how to touch and pleasure his penis without allowing ejaculation, how to put a plastic chastity device on him to stop him masturbating without "permission and supervision", and advice to severely limit the number of times per month he is allowed to spill semen.

The final picture set was of a groom in a wedding tuxedo that was completely normal, except that the pants were very tight and at the groin there was an opening, allowing a sheer pink pouch to cradle the man's dangling genitals. It was like a wedding album where the groom and groomsmen were all dressed in these pants that put their genitals on display, posing for all the usual wedding pictures. The bride was photographed tossing a sheer jock strap into a crowd of clamoring women and it was the groom that threw his bouquet to the waiting men. The set included sample vows for the husband-to-be, with the words "honor and obey" spoken by the male. Also, a pledge of fidelity; "I give you my body, my genitals, and my semen to be solely yours, I recognize your authority in our home, and I acknowledge your right to date and enjoy other men while I remain solely yours."

This all had my mind swimming in a sea of role-reversal with the woman in charge of her man, in complete control of everything. This was very new to me but I felt strangely intrigued and interested in these things.

I also found a book by Victoria Andre entitled "Letters from young Ladies". In it were verbatim letters that the Author had received from female students in her classes. It was apparent that this 'Victoria' was a professor of 'Women's Studies' and 'Human Sexuality' at the university. Many of her students had written letters in response to the question, "When/how did you first know you enjoyed seeing naked men?"

The first letter was from a graduate student of 23 years, named Kimberly.

Dear Dr. Andre,

When I turned 18, my Aunt Beth took me out on the town. She was always known as the 'wild one' of the family, and boy was she! She took me to an exclusive members-only club in the big city where I grew up that I had never known existed. It was in a posh neighborhood at a large home owned by a woman named 'J'. Aunt Beth had told me this was a "Ladies" club, suitable for women who had a taste for male nudity. On the way over, she explained that tonight was a "Clothed-Female / Nude-Male" party, otherwise known as CFNM. There would be probably 30 or more women of all ages, and somewhere around 10 or so fit men of all ages. The rules of the party were simple: the women were to remain clothed at all times, and the men were to remain naked at all times. Women could touch the men as they pleased but not the other way around.

She went on to say that the men would serve as waiters and entertainers, remaining naked the entire night, and they were required to obey any command given by a woman, including me! She said if I wanted to touch their penises, squeeze their testicles, feel their bottoms, it was totally allowed and in fact I was encouraged to do so. She said this would be the night for me to answer every question I had about male anatomy so that I'd never have to 'learn' in the back of a boy's car.

I was both very nervous and very excited!

We arrived and I was greeted at the door by our hostess, who immediately summoned a naked man to take our coats and scarves. He was amazing! I'd only seen 3 penises in my life, and they were my bothers, my cousin's, and my dads, all by accident and no touching, just a fleeting glimpse.

Here was a 30-year-old man, muscular, naked, and he had a big penis! It was flaccid and yet had to be 6" long and was thick. His pubic hair was shaved so I could see absolutely everything! I couldn't help it, I just stared. And more amazing, he just stood there grinning, letting me look!

After giving me plenty of time to have a good ogle, my Aunt Beth stepped forward and said, "Spread 'em, Thomas," and reached down and proceeded to feel up his balls right in front of me. Thomas said, "yes, Ma'am," and widened his stance, still grinning. I was shocked that my Aunt Beth knew his name -- that meant she'd seen him before -- maybe at a naked party! I also heard him give a little gasp as Beth firmly fondled his testes. I watched his penis throb a bit, getting bigger before my eyes. Beth took my hand and pulled me closer under the gleeful eyes of our hostess.

Beth said, "Hold his cock in your hand and feel it get hard, quickly girl!"

My hand was suddenly full of the first penis I had ever touched. It was so warm, pulsing, and alive. I wrapped my fingers around it gently and felt it grow and stiffen right there in my hand. I watched the head swell and pulse and turn purple before my eyes. Soon Thomas was very stiff like a board, and easily 8" long. I couldn't help but squeeze a little to feel it. His penis was amazing! It was like velvet wrapping a steel rod. I imagined its length and girth ramming into me and wow -- what a thought! It was so exciting!

Beth took my other hand to replace hers at his testicles, encouraging me to feel him up. His testes were so hot and firm, dangling deliciously in his soft hairless scrotum -- so delicate yet manly. I had never felt a testicle before and it was fascinating to feel their shape and the bumps and bulges where the tubes attached to them. I took my time, gently exploring his most vulnerable parts and I felt so powerful that he trusted me to have his testes in my hand. They were much bigger than I had expected. I had thought that testicles were spherical, but found they were egg-shaped as I rolled them in my palm and fingers. Compared to my hand, all his man parts felt so big and strong. I was beside myself with the joy of discovery and I could feel my panties getting wet.

After several minutes, Beth whispered, "there are at least 10 more cocks in here for you to explore, and you'll have more time with Thomas too. Let's get a drink and see some other naked boys." She winked at me and said, "Be a polite lady and thank Thomas for letting you feel his penis and testicles."

I looked up into his eyes and said, "Thank you Thomas that was amazing!"

He grinned and said, "Thank you, Ma'am; I am honored to have you touch me." He smiled happily taking our coats away, his big cock and balls flopping and jiggling as he walked, and his butt was so cute! I was happier than I had ever been!

To make a long story short, for the next 4 hours I was immersed in penises and testicles. I felt up all the men who ranged in age from 55 (way older than my dad), to a young man I'd seen before at school who was only 19 and it was his first time too! We sort of hung out together, (or rather, he hung out for me!), and I played with his penis and testicles several times. There was so much variety! Big, small, thick, thin, curved, straight, light pink and darker colors -- I learned to appreciate the differences and how every boy was unique and beautiful in his own way, not matter how big or small his genitals.

I got to see all 10 men masturbate to ejaculation at the end of the party, which of course I had never seen before. It was amazing -- all that semen spurting in different ways from different penises! It was fascinating!

So, now it's 5 years later. I've been to several of these parties and have invited a few of my girlfriends to attend, and boy did they have a good time! I even have invited two boys, and one of the boys actually did it! After that party, I dated him on and off for a year, and on every date I required that he strip for me and remain nude while I kept my clothes on! From that relationship I learned to really enjoy giving a boy a hand-job. It feels so powerful to control a penis, deciding when to torment him with pleasure and when to allow him to spurt. Now I love to 'make' a boy come when I decide, no matter how much he begs!!

I love seeing naked boys, and have taken your advice and bought some naked man art to put in my apartment to show the world that I enjoy and appreciate the nude male form. My roommate Cathy has learned to love it too! And we have a rule in my apartment on weekends -- any boy in my house has to strip at the door and stay undressed the entire visit, no matter what!

Sincerely,

Kimberly

After reading that letter, my penis was completely erect again, and I desperately needed to masturbate. I'd never known anything like this -- women enjoying naked men -- and I seriously thought that I'd enjoy being one of the naked boys. I really knew I would like it. I imagined what it would be like to be naked in a room full of clothed women -- their eyes devouring me and their hands exploring me. I imagined being forced to masturbate while they watched and it sent butterflies in my belly doing cartwheels!

I went into the bathroom and stood in front of the sink, I pulled down my pants and underwear to my ankles, pretending to be a boy masturbating in the room filled with clothed women, all of them watching me. I was so excited that I quickly came really hard and spurted a lot of semen all over the counter top.

Just then there was a knock at the door and I quickly pulled up my pants and answered it, worried about my semen was all over my hand, the sink and the counter. I had barely opened the door and Ms Andre took me by the arm and lead me back toward the living room saying, "It's 10 o'clock and time for boys to be in bed in my house, Jeffrey, let's get you to your room and into your pajamas." I couldn't argue, and as she led me through the game room, I saw that I had left the book open to Kimberly's letter on the bureau, and I knew there was my semen, still all over the counter in the bathroom. I silently prayed she wouldn't find these things until I'd had a chance to take care of it in the morning.

Ms. Andre stopped at the door and let me go into the room. That was the first time I noticed the room had no door, just a door frame. She said, "Go ahead and change for bed, dear."

I had unpacked my clothes when we'd arrived. But when I looked in the drawers, many things were missing, principally my underwear and my pajamas. Instead there were 2 pairs of little pink briefs made of sheer stretchy fabric and pronounced 'pouches' where I had left my tighty-whiteys. My long legged and long sleeved flannel pajamas were replaced by a set of what looked like girl's pajamas lay out on the bed. They consisted of a tiny pink satin brief that looked like panties but had a noticeable 'pouch' at the groin, and a matching pink button-up satin shirt that was long-sleeved, but short enough I knew it wouldn't cover the briefs.

Ms. Andre said, "Jeffrey, my sister Victoria is a clothing designer among other things, and she made me promise that all my men would wear her clothes when they visited me. She likes to design underpants, swimwear, and sleepwear for boys. They are all based on the design she calls 'pouch-panties', and she claims they are much healthier for boys to wear, since a boy's testicles were meant to dangle freely. I hope you don't mind that I took the liberty of replacing your things with some of her creations. It would make me and her very pleased if you were to wear them while you're here, and of course you can keep them as our gift to you." She smiled at me, "I'm sure that once you get used to wearing them, they'll feel very good on you."
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