Amber Fountaine stories contain sexually explicit descriptions of consensual sexual activity and are not suitable for reading by anyone under the age of 18, or anyone offended by reading such material. These acts include gay and bisexual activity as well as any combination of piss play, diapers, cross-dressing and other fetishes and perversions that may please the author's whims. The characters in these stories are fictional, but are mostly based on the author's true experiences, as well as the experiences of others he has met. Every attempt to conceal these identities has been made. These stories are placed in Nifty for the enjoyment of its readers and are not to be copied and/or distributed without the approval of the author.
Kitten
by Amber Fountaine
One of the best things about being a consultant is that I get to work from home. The front corner bedroom of the old three bedroom house near downtown is my office and when I'm not working on a project, I spend my free time reading, writing and researching a book on the Native American Indians that once roomed this area - if I'm not too busy looking at porn on the computer and pumping out a load.
I've got a girl friend - two actually if you count my ex-wife who drops in two or three times a month when she's in the mood to get kinky. Rachel, my girl friend, travels even more than I do, and Donna, my ex, has a live-in lover that she describes as, "Great in the sack but boring as hell." Possibly, that's because my ex is what they now call a 'cougar' and her young lover lacks imagination and the desire to engage in any of her wilder variations to the sex act. But he more than makes up for it in his youthful stamina and hunky good looks. "A living breathing fuck machine," is another way she describes him. Donna also has a lesbian girl friend and for reasons I'll never understand, her young stud has no desire to see the two women enjoy each other. However you can bet the farm that this old pervert welcomes them any time Donna wants to bring her friend Patti along.
All that is my way of saying that for a guy well past the big four-oh, actually I'll be fifty in a month, and single to boot, my sex life is pretty decent. I try to tell myself that the Internet porn I enjoy is just to get new ideas for the next time Rachel or Donna want to get kinky, but the truth is I've enjoyed playing with my dick since the 6th grade and as long as it keeps working, I'll keep playing.
I was in just that kind of mood when I sat down at my desk and cranked up the computer. After scanning my email I'd just begun a tour of my favorite websites when I noticed the small, white sedan pull up to the stop sign outside my window and then sit there. After several minutes a woman got out, raised the hood, and then stood staring at the engine compartment.
I've never understood why people that obviously don't have the mechanical ability to check the oil level will raise the hood when they have car trouble, like they'll know exactly what to do once they see an engine for the first time. Even if some important part fell out and left a gaping hole, they wouldn't know what it was that was missing. And while a scornful stare might encourage a slacking employee to get busy, the most venomous look will have no effect on something mechanical that has decided not to work.
Being a chivalrous male - and more than a little bit horny - and wanting a closer look at what appeared to be an attractive female, I slipped on some clothes and went out to see what I could do.
As I walked across my yard, approaching her from behind, I had time to appraise the cute ass in denim shorts and tanned, shapely legs, just before she slammed down the hood and kicked the tire, letting out a string of expletives like I hadn't heard since my days in the Navy. High-heeled shoes are not designed for kicking inanimate objects of any sort, especially something as large and unmoving as a car tire, and she paid the price, yelping in agony as she felt the pain in her toes, and began hopping around on the other foot. Nor are high-heels meant to be worn for any maneuver requiring some agility, like hopping on one foot.
As a result, I was working hard at holding back a laugh when I spoke. "I think you're supposed to kick the tires before you buy the car," I told her, trying to be humorous.
She turned to stare at me, giving me what must have been the same look she'd been giving the engine compartment. Since she seemed in no mood to joke, I quickly grew serious and offered my help.
Using more curse words than I'd ever heard from a woman, she told me she'd just gotten the car out of the shop after paying several hundred dollars to fix a recurring problem just like this one. So I suggested she use my cell phone, if she didn't have one with her, to call the garage that had not fixed the car and tell them to come get her.
"That won't do me a bit of fucking good," she countered. "Those piece of shit, scamming, broke-dick, cock-sucking assholes don't know how to fix it. And I have to be five fucking miles from here five fucking minutes ago."
While it may not sound like it, she was actually softening a bit, so I told her I wasn't busy and would be glad to drive her. I suggested we leave the car sit with the hood up until the garage could come get it, or that after dropping her off, I could come back and see what I could do. I'd already decided she had a very sexy, almost slutty look and wanted to get to know her better. I kinda like slutty.
Now I'll admit that her language and my previous condition may have played a large part in my appraisal, but there's something about pantyhose, shorts, and high-heeled shoes that stirs my more basic emotions. Add to that a hairdo and makeup like she'd just come from a beauty shop - which I learned was true - and you get the picture. It was a very sexy look - to me anyway.
Since she hadn't given me any details of this appointment she had that she seemed to be already late for, I was surprised, after she accepted my offer, when she asked me to help her with a small suitcase. In addition, she carried some clothes in a thin, hanging bag and a small overnight case.
"I thought you had an appointment," I teased. "Looks more like you're moving."
"Photo shoot," she told me. "These are some outfits they'll want me to wear. I'm Kathy, by the way. But most of my friends call me Kitten."
I smiled and laughed, probably because I just happened to be thinking of pussy at the moment and wondering what my chances of getting some were. I refrained from making any sort of suggestive joke about her nickname, telling her succinctly, "I'm Bert. Bert Gorman. But most of my friends call me Bert." Believe it or not, that got me a smile; a far cry from what I'd gotten with my first attempt at humor.
"Not what I would have expected from a man like you," she commented when I opened my garage door and she saw my MINI. However she did seem impressed when I told her I only used the Cooper for trips around town and to drive to the airport where I had my own small plane for longer trips. "I'm single and live by myself," I told her. "What would I do with a big car? I mean you don't need a cattle truck to take the dog to the vet."
"It's cute," she commented and then changed the subject. "Bert, do you think I should lock my car? There's nothing in it and I don't have to worry about anyone driving off in it, but . . ."
"Probably a good idea," I told her, backing out of the garage and hitting the button to close the garage door. "Let me run inside and I'll make a sign to put on the dash that says I'll be right back, went to call a wrecker, or something like that. Might be a good idea to leave he flashers on too."
"Do you suppose I could use your bathroom while you're doing that?"
She followed me back in the house through the side door that opened into my office and I pointed to the hall door, telling her, "There's a bathroom right down the hall on the left."
"Why can't I use this one?" she asked, stepping past me to the open door to a small bathroom off my office. Before I could formulate an answer, she'd paused in the bathroom doorway to turn on the light and looked back at me. But not before looking at the computer monitor and seeing what I'd been watching. "Looks like I interrupted something," she said with a knowing grin and pulled the door shut behind her.
I think I mentioned that my sexual lifestyle is a little kinky compared to most people's. And maybe 'a little' is a little bit of an understatement. Compared to my parent's and most of their generation, I'm way on out there. I was a teen in the 70's and I can't imagine a better, more free-wheeling, permissive time for a young man to grow up. My folks were in their thirties when I was born so unlike the parents of some of my friends, mine resisted the temptation to become swingers and have sex parties. My teens would be a story in itself so let me just say that the education my buddy Lance and I got from watching his parents parties from our secret hiding place was more than we could have imagined. Not only did we discover that there was a lot more to sex than just fucking, we learned that sex didn't have to include someone of the opposite sex to be fun - and that was just the beginning.
Lance and I were both fourteen at the time that started, neither of us had gotten much further with a girl than feeling her tits, and we were fascinated watching the men fuck the women and having their dicks sucked. We couldn't wait to be able to do that someday. However when we saw a guy suck another guy's cock, we knew that was something we didn't have to wait for. We both had one, we were both horny as hell, and neither of us had to coax or coerce the other to give it a try. It was more like an argument over who got to try it first!
From that night on, not only did we suck each other off at every opportunity, whenever we saw or heard of anything two people could do and it was something we could do, we did it. We were fascinated the night we watched his parent's party with one other couple and a third man and the way they got naked and began peeing on each other, mostly in each other's mouths. Lance's folks were into what we later learned was called 'watersports' so that became part of our regular after school activity as well. Years later when I met Donna, it turned out she loved it too and like me, still does. It's one of the big reasons she enjoys visiting me.
Donna also got me to try something I'd have never thought of. When I told her about sometimes dressing in my older sister's clothes to play the role of Lance's girlfriend, she began incorporating that into our lovemaking, dressing me as a woman and calling me "Brenda." I felt silly the first time, but the sex we had was so awesome I gladly dressed for her any time she wanted and many times of my own volition. We had to curtail that activity when our two kids were born and got older, but not before she'd gotten me to try wearing diapers when the kids were in them.
"You're a natural born sissy," she'd told me many times. "You love dressing in my clothes and I know you want to suck cock again, even if you deny it. Maybe you should be a baby girl instead of a big girl." Next thing I knew she'd gotten diapers that would fit me and ruffled plastic panties, and shortened a couple of my dresses so that they looked like the ones our daughter Emily wore. It was great fun for a couple of years, but when the kids became toddlers and started talking, we knew we had to stop. One day Eric asked Donna why daddy dressed like his sister and that did it. Other than borrowing one of her nighties or some lingerie to wear when we had sex, that was the end of it for Brenda.
The kids were just into their teens when by mutual consent, we decided to separate and shortly after, divorce. Almost immediately, I reassembled a sissy wardrobe for 'Brenda' and was surprised that it didn't bother me at all to let a sales clerk know I was buying lingerie for my own use. After a couple of months of visiting thrift shops, I was able to find a few dresses that I could alter. I even went as far as buying my own sewing machine and learning how to use it just so I could shorten the dress hems to the proper length for a sissy. That meant with my panties or diapers or panty covered diaper showing. It was at the sewing class I took that I met Rachel, who became intrigued by the idea of a man putting very short hems on dresses that he wasn't embarrassed to admit were his own. I had to call Donna and get her advice on where to buy the diapers and plastic pants and when she found out what I was up to, she was happy for me. In fact, she later told me that thinking of me being back in feminine attire and wet diapers was what inspired her to start visiting me when she felt like getting kinky.
All of this is by way of letting you know what I'd been up to and why. I'd spent that morning in a sissy maid outfit, including a diaper that had gotten very wet by the time I'd changed. I'd cleaned house and did all those female chores that I really enjoyed doing if I was dressed for the part. When I had the house straightened, I'd changed my diaper and had begun wetting the new one while I'd been at the computer. Then when I'd seen Kitten outside with car trouble, I'd stripped off everything but my diaper, plastic pants, and the ruffled panties I wore over it all, put on some shorts and a shirt, and had gone to help her. The nightie, bra and falsies, and feminine house shoes I'd had on, as well as the wet diaper from earlier, were all in that bathroom that Kitten had just entered. Normally all of that would have been put away in Sissy Brenda's room, but I'd been in kind of a rush. If the computer screen and the images of two bi men and a woman didn't give me away, then all the sissy attire in the bathroom sure did. I might have been able to make up some sort of semi-believable story about someone else leaving that stuff there but between the falsies and the porno on the computer, there was so little chance that it wasn't worth the effort.
I expected to be questioned or at least get a comment out of Kitten when she came out to get in the car, but she didn't say a word. Instead I asked her about her modeling career and she told me how it had just begun.
She explained she'd been working at a new bar in town, having just moved here from Las Vegas, and that a customer had complimented her on her looks and asked her if she'd like to model for him. He did catalog photography and was sure he could get her approved for use in an upcoming photo shoot. She said she'd done some preliminary shots and the company had been impressed. Since the catalog was going to be for lingerie, they'd asked for a few more of her in an assortment of sexy lingerie and that's what she was going to do when her car broke down. To me it sounded like she'd been conned into a compromising position with whoever this guy was that claimed to be a catalog photographer. She must have read my mind because without saying anything else, she reached in back and pulled out a catalog from her overnight case with the guy's business card stapled to it.
"This is from the shoot they did this past spring for the summer issue. They're all leaving in a few weeks for some lodge or resort in Canada to do the winter issue."
I glanced at the catalog and was surprised to see it was one I subscribed to. "Oh yeah," I said, casually mentioning the company name, like I read it all the time. That was the cue she'd been waiting for.
"Is this the place where you buy your girly clothes?"
I didn't dare turn to look at her or I would have blushed. But by looking straight ahead, I was able to act cool about it. "One of them," I admitted.
"What about the diapers. That's kind of new to me. I know guys that dress en femme, and I've heard a couple of them talking about wetting diapers, but I've never gone out with anyone into that."
I wanted to ask her a ton of questions about how she knew guys that dressed as women, and how I might get to meet the two guys that wore diapers, but since she'd asked first, and seemed to be okay with my dressing up, I gave her a brief account of how I'd tried dressing as a girl in my teens and how my ex had encouraged me to keep doing it, and how that had led her to try putting me in diapers because I liked pee play, and that I'd kept doing it for fun ever since. I left out a lot of the sex stuff because she hadn't asked about that. But she did as soon as I was finished.
"What about sex?" she wanted to know. "I saw what you'd been watching. Do you like women or men or both?"
"Both," I admitted. "At least I guess I should say that. I . . . the last time . . . the only time I did anything with another guy was in my teens. After I started going out with girls, I . . . we both gave that up. But yeah, I think about it." For some reason I found it sort of exciting to admit that to someone. And the timing was perfect. I'd been focusing straight ahead and about the time I might have had to look at her, we were at the address she'd given me. Since Kitten was already running late, she didn't have time to pursue our conversation.
Instead, she handed me the car key from her purse. "If you can find something simple that you can fix yourself, I'll be glad to pay you. Otherwise don't worry about it. I'll try to get those pricks at the garage to fix it under warranty. Are you sure you don't mind coming back for me? I can call someone if it's a problem."
"No problem," I assured her, handing her my business card. "Call me when you're done and I'll come get you. I'm not near the mechanic my dad was, but I know a little bit. Maybe I'll have your big ol' bus running by then," I joked.
She laughed. "Good! I want to hear more about you. And I didn't mean to tease you about your little car."
Then she grabbed her things and headed for the front door where a guy about my age was already holding the door open for her.
Fixing her car was about as easy as anything I'd ever done. She'd told me it acted like it had run out of gas after she'd driven a while. But she said that she'd started keeping the tank as full as possible and that the more gas it had in it, the quicker it quit. Driving back to my place I thought about it and was almost positive she had a clogged gas cap. When I checked it, there appeared to be a round toothpick or something jammed down in the vent hole. Whether it was the garage or somebody playing tricks on her, I had no idea. But a quick trip to the car parts place down the street from me for a new cap fixed her problem.
With the mechanical stuff out of the way, I was very tempted to get dressed in my sissy clothes again and return to the internet porn sites. But she'd said she might be done in as little as an hour and probably not more than two. That had been a little over an hour ago and I hated to get started again and have to stop. Then I wondered about what she'd do if I showed up dressed in female clothing. I had several things I wore, like the shorts I had on, that were really ladies wear if you looked close enough. It was strictly a fantasy though as I never went out dressed. That was something I only did around the house.
In addition, the diaper I'd changed into was starting to get pretty damp, as I'd been wetting it for well over a couple of hours. I'd consumed a lot of water earlier in anticipation of a lovely wet jack-off session and now debated whether I should take the diaper off, change to a dry one, or keep going. I'd just decided to keep going when she called.
I was sort of confused by her request, or at least the urgency of it. She almost begged me to come back as soon as possible, but when I asked if that meant she was ready, she avoided an answer, saying she'd explain it when I got there and that she had a huge favor to ask me. Now it's been my experience that when a woman not much more than half my age says she has a huge favor to ask, it probably means money. I was sure that my first opinion of the photographer might very well be correct. He'd hooked her in, got her excited about being a professional model, and now he was hitting her up for no telling how much to produce a portrait portfolio that he supposedly was going to send to all these agencies he was connected with to make her a star, etc, etc. My niece, my sister's oldest child, had been burned exactly like that. I didn't know exactly how much my sister blew on that scam but rumor had it that she'd been stung for over a thousand. I hated to be the one to pop Kitten's bubble, but to be honest, while she was a sexy little thing; she really wasn't beautiful in a model sort of way.
Because of what I was thinking, I wasn't at all surprised when the photographer, smiling like he'd won the lottery, answered my knock at the door.
"Hi, I'm Phil," he told me, like I was his long lost rich uncle. "Did Kitten tell you what we want?"
No sense in dancing around, I decided, and went right to the point. "Money, I expect."
"Oh hell no," Phil told me laughing. "Better 'n money. Come on back to the studio and I'll let her explain it."
Now I was confused. Better than money? What kind of scam was I getting invited into? Maybe part interest in a gold mine or some such shit. A part of me was telling me to just tell this Phil guy that I'd be waiting outside in her car when she was ready and the other part was curious as hell. I knew curiosity killed the cat; I just hoped it wouldn't happen to this cat - or Kitten.
As it turned out, I was wrong. My Uncle Dave was big into photography and according to parental gossip, spent as much on photographic supplies and equipment as my dad spent on his hot rods. I hadn't acquired my dad's interest in cars, but had learned enough about automobile mechanics that it had been easy enough to have figured out what was wrong with Kitten's car. Neither had I gotten the photography bug like Uncle Dave, but I did know a well equipped photography studio when I saw one. I wondered why this guy didn't have a studio like this downtown or out by one of the malls, but then again, his card had said something about being a contract photographer, so he didn't depend on traffic off the street. I was beginning to think maybe he really was a big time photographer after all.
But what really impressed me, or maybe I should say, stunned me, were Kitten and the other woman. Kitten still had on the black high-heels, but had added stockings and a garter belt in place of the pantyhose. The short yellow nightie left the bare cheeks of her cute little ass exposed as she lay on her stomach on a bed surrounded by lights and reflectors. In one hand she had a large dildo that she was sucking on while another woman, wearing nothing but a bright red thong, gave her hints on how best to pose for the camera. She stopped when she saw me walk in with Phil.
"Hi," Kitten said, smiling, her face suddenly red with embarrassment. "Did uh . . . did Phil tell you what we need?"
"No, he asked me if you'd told me and when I told him no, he led me back here to talk to you."
"We . . . I mean I . . . want to suck your cock."
Talk about stunned! That would have been the last thing I would have expected when I'd been driving over. In fact, I was so stunned I was sure I wasn't hearing her right. I was certain my perverted mind was playing tricks on me. Donna used to tease me about thinking with my 'little head' and maybe that little head had been soaking in my soggy diapers for too long. So my response to her offer was, "I got your car running. It's outside."
Phil figured it out first and moved beside me. "She's serious. This company I'm doing this for is coming out with a . . . well it's not a new line exactly, more like they're targeting a different segment of the lingerie industry. The catalog is going to include sex toys and DVD's in addition to lingerie and they want to plug in a bunch of still shots in the background of girls like Kitten in action. What we need are a couple of shots of her with your cock in her mouth. All that I'll shoot is from your chest to your thighs. Unless you have some sort of identifiable tattoo, no one would ever be able to tell it's you getting blown. These aren't shots for the catalog, just for the people putting out the catalog to see Kitten in action."
The whole time Phil was talking, I was staring at Kitten and the pleading in her eyes told me as much as if she'd been speaking aloud. I think I knew at that moment I'd do it, but still I hesitated.
The big busted blonde in the red thong spoke to me for the first time and I really, really tried to look her in the eye. I'm a sucker for big suckable nipples and she had two the size of fingertips. "You'd be doing Kitten a HUGE favor," she told me, echoing what Kitten had said on the phone.
"We're not asking you to make a porno flick," Phil added. "These are just posed shots."
"With her too?" I asked, indicating the blond.
Phil laughed. "No, Becky is my assistant. She just helps get the models ready and poses them for me."
I could have asked why she was damn near naked, but another thought had occurred to me. "So why don't you take a few pictures of Kitten sucking your cock?"
Phil smiled. "I'm not into that," he told me and winked.
My first thought was, "fucking fag," but I could hardly say that - especially considering my earlier conversation with Kitten. I'd already admitted to her that I'd sucked some dick in my teens and thought about it often. Maybe that's why I couldn't help but glance at the front of his slacks and sure enough, unlike me, he didn't appear to be aroused at all. The guy had to be gay not to get a hard on with two gorgeous sexy women cavorting around in front of him. I had a bulge going even through the soggy diaper. And that thought brought up another problem. I needed to get undressed without showing them what I had on under my shorts and I'd need to use a washcloth or something or else Kitten would be tasting my piss flavored cock.
"Uh, if I do this, uh, where do I get undressed?" I asked.
"Not a problem," Becky told me.
I turned to look at Kitten one more time and she smiled softly and mouthed the words, "Thank you." Never in my life had I had a woman thank me for letting them suck my cock. Then I realized that Becky was undressing me right where I stood and before I could stop her, her practiced hands had my panty covered diaper exposed to the world.
"Hadn't expected that," Phil mused aloud, grinning at me with renewed interest. "But it's got possibilities."
I assumed that he assumed that because I was wearing ruffled pink panties over a soggy diaper that I must walk on his side of the street. But he was thinking something else all together.
"I don't know whether they've thought of this angle or not. Give me a minute to make a phone call." Then Phil disappeared back the way we'd come from the front door.
"Were you wearing that a while ago?" Kitten asked, indicating the wet diaper.
I nodded, not sure I could speak.
"Is it wet?" she went on.
Again I nodded, then added, "Not real wet, but getting there." Then I turned to Becky, successfully raising my gaze to her eyes this time. "Where did he go?"
"He said he was going to use the phone so I suspect he's probably in using the phone."
She wasn't really being sarcastic, just pointing out to me what should have been obvious. In the meantime, Kitten had twisted and crawled closer to the edge of the bed so she could reach out with one hand to feel the front of my panties. Then with the same technique used by adults everywhere to check their infants diapers, Kitten slipped the tips of her fingers under the leg elastic of the panties and plastic pants to check the dampness of my diaper. I wasn't at all surprised when she pushed her hand a little further and tickled the base of my cock.
I had no idea what might have happened here, during the hour and a half since I'd dropped her off, but there was no denying the look of lust in Kitten's eyes. When she reached in further in an attempt to pull my cock free, I knew she intended to suck my cock, right here, right now, and she didn't care if Becky watched or Phil got back in time to capture it with his camera. Not that I minded that idea, but I wasn't sure if I could get it back up again in a hurry if she made me cum. Kitten was probably used to guys her age, not long out of their teens, that could cum two or three times in an hour.
So I pulled away, and when I saw the disappointment on her face, dropped to my knees next to the bed and in a moment of impulsiveness, kissed her. Then I told her, "Better wait until he gets back or we could be here all day."
She smiled and nodded in understanding just as Phil walked back into the room.
"They like the idea," he announced. Then he explained that 'they' were the company producing the catalog which he said would be a special edition and would include specialty items or something like that. The part I caught was that it was aimed at the fetish market and when Phil had called to ask if they were interested in including people that wore diapers for fun, they'd decided quickly that it might be a very good idea. Then he asked me, "If I get final approval, would you be interested?"
Maybe I'd missed something. "In what?"
"Being one of the models. Wearing diapers, panties, whatever. You don't shave your legs or body so we can use you as a straight male."
I started to protest the idea but then he mentioned the money, and the paid expenses to Canada for the final shoot, and I paused to think about it. It wasn't all that much, at least compared to what I got as a consultant. I might have said no if I hadn't turned back to Kitten and seen that look in her eye. Phil didn't realize that I'd decided to do it when he told me how they'd lay out the catalog using the still shots of sex acts as page sized, soft, fuzzy backgrounds, and then have the merchandise displayed over that. He was still trying to sell me on the idea.
"We won't actually be showing any fucking or sucking. The sex scenes will form the full page background. There'll be an ad placed to hide the most explicit parts. But you'll be able to tell that's what's going on, and we can even be sure to keep most of your face covered if you want."
By then, I was nodding and smiling back at Kitten who seemed VERY pleased that I'd agreed. "Sure," I told Phil over my shoulder. "Sounds like fun. What should we do now?"
"How about you stand back up and Kitten, you slowly take his panties and diaper off and we'll pose and shoot you as you go. I'd like to see you hard by the time the diaper comes off."
"Me too!" Kitten quipped, getting a relaxing laugh from all of us.
Aside from family pictures my dad or uncle had taken, I'd never posed for a camera before then. Becky did the posing, shifting my hips or spreading my legs or, after the head of my cock peeked out over the waist of the sagging diaper, having Kitten get up on her knees and elbows so her cute little ass was in the background as she kissed it.
Then, while Becky helped me to step out of the panties and plastic pants, she had Kitten swing around and sit on the edge of the bed. Phil was clicking away as Kitten slowly worked the front of the thick cloth diaper down to expose the length of my cock and she had the whole length in her mouth before Phil could finish saying, "Now go ahead and suck it."
If I lasted a full minute it was a miracle. Considering that only minutes earlier I'd wondered if I'd be able to get hard or stay that way in front of strangers, it was almost laughable. Then I noticed Phil getting some close-up shots of Kitten using the back of her hand to wipe cum from the corner of her mouth, with the head of my cock still inches from her face. "Can they use a shot like that?" I wondered aloud.
"Don't know," he answered tersely, the camera clicking away. "I just shoot 'em and let them decide. They'll have a list of suggestions by the time we do the shoot." After a minute he asked, "Think you can go again?"
I didn't want to brag, but I was pretty damn sure that wouldn't be a problem. Just the previous week before Rachel left she'd sucked me off twice in about fifteen minutes. And for that matter, Kitten had never stopped. She still had my cock in one hand and kept kissing the head and licking at it with Phil's camera lens less than a foot away. "Sure," I told them. "With a woman like Kitten, miracles are possible." That was laying it on a little thick, however the smile I got from Kitten let me know she appreciated the compliment.
"Good!" Phil told us, getting to his feet. "How about we lose the diaper," he said to Becky, and then to me he added, "And you get on the bed on your back and Kitten can get on top of you in a sixty-nine."
While Becky helped me step out of the panties, plastic pants, and diaper, Kitten moved to the far side of the bed on her hands and knees and when I was in position, she moved to straddle me. I thought I'd been stunned when I'd walked in to see Kitten and Becky. That was nothing compared to looking up between Kitten's thighs and seeing a cock instead of the cunt I'd expected. Then she was lowering it toward my eagerly awaiting mouth.
I could hear Phil's camera working but couldn't tell from where. I wondered, of all the crazy things I could have been thinking of at that moment, if he'd gotten a picture of me waiting to feast on Kitten's prick, and if so, did I look like a baby bird, mouth agape, waiting for momma to feed it a worm. Never once did I think about whether I should or shouldn't suck it. Then Kitten was close enough that I could raise my head and suck it in, enjoying the feeling of a cock in my mouth again after more than thirty years.
We'd hardly begun, or so it seemed to me, when I heard Phil say, "Okay. That'll do it." I expected it was a signal for us to stop, but there was no way I wanted to do that.
The only cum I'd tasted, other than my own, in what seemed like forever, had been the jism of Donna's young stud. Several times he'd given her a quick fuck and she'd come to me for more with her pussy full of his cum. Back when we'd been married we'd discovered that she had the most massive orgasms when I'd eat her out after fucking her and then she let her bladder go when her orgasm hit.
So I totally ignored Phil and Kitten did too. The only problem was that with Kitten lying on top of me, I couldn't really work on her cock like I wanted, nor could I concentrate on two things at once. To enjoy the sucking I was getting, I had to stop working on her pretty prick. Or if I worked on that delicious dick in my mouth, I couldn't enjoy the blowjob I was getting.
Then I heard Phil say, "Oh yeah, suck it baby." Since Kitten - I had to assume it was still Kitten - was sucking me, I figured Becky and Phil had given in to the moment and had decided to have some fun of their own. That was proven when Phil said, "You two make some room."
We did. In fact, we got off the bed entirely and watched them go at it. In the back of my mind, I wondered how Phil would feel about my licking his dick when he finished or eating out his cum from Becky's pussy. Kitten had another idea I liked better.
She stood on her toes to whisper in my ear, "Let's go back to your place. I'm not done with you yet."
While Kitten gathered her things, I got dressed, hardly noticing how cold the wet diaper felt from sitting on the floor for a while. There was more than enough heat in my crotch to compensate. Kitten didn't bother dressing, throwing on a thin robe. "You drive," she told me, throwing her things in the back seat. Almost immediately, like before we were out of the driveway, she was trying to get her hands down the front of my shorts and inside my diaper. I had to stop her, telling her, "Just wait. Besides, you haven't cum yet."
So she snuggled up next to me as best she could and whispered, "You really want to make me cum baby?"
"Oh yeah," I told her, easily slipping my hand inside her robe to grasp her cock. I couldn't keep my hands off it and was so very tempted to just pull over in a parking lot and suck her off. But more than anything, I wanted Sissy Brenda to do that and that meant waiting another few minutes to get to my place and get back into the clothes in my office bathroom. "As soon as we get home," I explained, "I'm going to get dressed in the lingerie you saw in the bathroom and suck you dry. I can't wait to show you Sissy Brenda's bedroom."
"Mmm," she cooed, rubbing the front of my diaper. "I'd like that." I didn't know if she meant Brenda's bedroom, my sucking her dry, or maybe the diaper. Then, just like any real woman, she began to question me, in a round about way, about who else I was seeing, wanting to know who the competition was. So I went back to our earlier conversation, this time adding in how Donna continued to visit me and why, and I told her I'd been seeing Rachel for a couple of years and that like Donna, what she found attractive in me was my kinky side. "Sometimes I can't tell which is the kinkiest." I told her about Donna's wet orgasms and how Rachel didn't like to suck my dick unless I'd been wearing a wet diaper. "They've never met each other, though Donna has suggested it. Rachel isn't into women, just guys, and I'm sure she's seeing at least one other guy besides me. Donna thinks she might even be married. I don't know. Rachel doesn't want to talk about it and that's okay with me."
By then we'd parked in my driveway and were making a run for my door. A gust of wind caught Kitten's robe and if any neighbors were watching, they had a great view of Kitten's cock, framed by a garter belt and stockings. Then we were inside and she was helping me get into my bra and nightie and we rushed to Brenda's room.
"I love it!" Kitten proclaimed, seeing the white furniture and canopied, four-poster bed. With a wicked grin, she threw back the bed covers and patted the mattress. "Plastic?" she questioned, hearing the crinkly noise.
I nodded. "This is the play room. Any time Donna comes over I know we'll get wet. And Rachel enjoys most of it too."
"Teach me," she said, dropping the robe and sprawling across the bed. "Pee on me or whatever it is you like to do with those women."
I had to smile. Kitten was letting me know she was willing to do anything and everything my two real female lovers were doing. It took a moment to get my diaper down enough to get the head of my cock free and get a flow going, but when I did, I was able to splatter her with my piss from her chin to her knees, concentrating on her crotch. Then, maybe even before that last squirt of piss was finished, I'd moved between her thighs to lick up as much of my piss as possible. She loved it, but not near as much as I did. Even with her cock in my mouth I still felt like Kitten was a woman. Whereas I played at being a sissified male in feminine clothing, Kitten to me was a woman that just happened to have a cock almost identical to my own; a very beautiful, tasty cock.
And cum too! Lots of it, as I soon discovered. All those hundreds, maybe thousands of times I'd jacked off thinking about what I'd do if I had a cock to suck had kept me in practice mentally, and when I finally got one between my lips again, it was like the thirty-some years since the last time meant nothing to my cock sucking skill. It was almost as if I'd been doing it all those years instead of doing without. One thing for sure, I decided as I savored the flavor of her jism, was that there'd never be another thirty year void; not even a thirty day void. In fact, unless Kitten had someplace she had to be shortly, there'd not be another thirty minutes before I'd be sucking a cock again.
As I nuzzled Kitten's neatly trimmed pubic bush and kissed and licked her spent prick, I wondered what Donna and Rachel would think when they met Kitten. I had a suspicion there'd be a whole lot of fun in this old sissies future!
Comments appreciated: amber_fountaine@hotmail.com