Boned on the Fourth of July

This story takes place the day after the events of "Unleashed By Nair."

***

"Dammit, hon!" My wife's voice broke my reverie. Her head poked from the bedroom doorway.

I'd been standing in the hall, transfixed by my image in the mirror.

I had flashed back to the day before, when I first saw my Naired legs, along with the rest of my cream-skinned, hairless body, slimmed by months of daily running, in that mirror.

The shock and excitement of seeing the hot girl of my dreams reflected there had led to an evening that I hadn't quite processed yet.

Emboldened by my neighborhood being nearly deserted on the eve of the Fourth of July, I had ventured out dressed in one of my wife's minis, a spaghetti strap bandeau, and a pair of strappy high heels, my long, creamy, newly hairless legs bare.

I had strolled to the donut shop and gas station that shared the corner behind my house, stood on a normally busy street corner en femme, and danced in the gas station driveway with the slender, leggy girl I saw reflected in the donut shop window.

When the gas station owner - Hank, my secret crush - caught me dancing in his driveway, I impulsively bared my body before him, first dropping my mini to expose my ass and legs, then removing my top thrust my big puffy nipples at him.

Then I danced naked in the service drive.

I introduced myself to Hank as Carla.

After we danced a Texas Two Step together, I practically gave him a standing lap dance in the driveway, milking the bulge in his pants with my bare ass.

Hank had picked me up and pinned me like a butterfly against the gas station wall, spreading my long, smooth legs wide, and fucked me like a girl, in full view of the street.

He kept whispering "Carla" while fucking me.

Did all that happen just last night?

My wife broke into my fugue. "Dammit, it's bad enough that you have an ass like a teenage girl. Now your legs look a Wolford model's - did you wax them?"

"I used Nair."

My wife's eyes narrowed.

"You haven't been up to your habit, have you?" My cross-dressing habit, she meant.

I'd been in "the grip," a powerful compulsion to cross-dress, these past two weeks, my thoughts consumed by dressing like a girl, looking like a girl.

I dissembled. "You know I've been dealing with the stress by running, hon."

She blew a blonde lock out of her eyes, turned back to the bedroom. "I should go running with you more often. You look really good. Not exactly manly. But really good..."

I entered the bedroom, carrying the jeans I'd retrieved from the dryer. I was still trying to decide whether to wear Speedos underneath.

A bağdatcaddesi escort Fourth of July picnic with a gang of my wife's college chums was in our plans. The picnic area, on a fellow alum's property an hour away, had a shaded, secluded swimming hole branching off the river.

Speedos under straight leg jeans it was. My jeans were slightly stretchy women's CKs, 36 inseam, with the label removed. They fit my ass snugly.

I wore my usual long-sleeved sun-blocking running tee, in dark turquoise. I tended to avoid sun exposure, something I'd picked up from my Chinese mother, who was translucently fair.

I slathered SPF 80 on my moon face (also my mom's legacy). Carla looked out through my big long-lashed doe eyes, a characteristic of women on my Scots-Irish dad's side.

A pair of Stan Smiths completed the ensemble.

I carried our cooler the quarter-mile to the picnic area, while my wife toted a couple of folding camp chairs. We both wore Ray-Bans, floppy hats, and ponytails, hers blonde and straight, mine dark and wavy.

An hour or so into festivities, I had a nice buzz from the beer and BBQ. I sprawled on a camp chair, watching the jungleball game that had sprung up.

Since I was in the grip, my inner girl was scoping out the men from behind my Ray-Bans.

Tim, a tall, rangy, guy who had a nice thatch of brown hair on his tanned chest, looked like a player. He moved like a panther in his board shorts, all silken grace.

I'd played volleyball in high school, mainly because I liked the girls. Most of them were the long and leggy and graceful jock ballerinas the sport seemed to attract.

I wanted to be them.

I woke from a doze to my wife gently kicking the bottoms of my shoes. "Hon, Tim and the guys want to play doubles."

I groaned, unfolded myself from the camp chair, doffed my floppy hat, and kicked off my shoes.

I was paired with Tim. We had instant chemistry, reading each other and playing together with a certain fluidity, which often won calls of "Nice play, hon!" from our wives.

The other team attempted a dink that just cleared the net. From a flat dive, I bumped the ball up perfectly with the back of one hand for Tim to crush.

Tim helped me up, then patted me on my ass as I walked back to serve. "Nice play, hon," he said.

We played on that theme the rest of the game, saying "Nice play, hon" to each other. I flirted subtly with Tim, wiggling my toned, denim-clad ass at him as I signaled our play with a hand behind my back.

Our wives just rolled their eyes at the byplay.

We exchanged clasped hands above our heads after one point; Tim beykoz escort pulled me into a quick hug and spanked my ass. "Great play, hon."

We won two straight games, then stopped for refreshments.

"Hey, I could use a dip in the swimming hole," said Tim.

"Sure," said my wife, as I raised my eyebrows and swigged my beer.

"Race you, hon," said Tim, as he swatted my ass and started to trot away.

I looked at my wife, who was gathering up some things. She laughed and said, "Go ahead, we'll catch up."

The swimming holes were a few hundred yards away through more woodsy terrain. Since I'd been running almost daily, easing past Tim on the path didn't take long.

I shortened my stride, and pretended that I was prancing down a runway in high heels. I could feel Tim behind me, ogling my long slender legs and girly ass.

"I know a place to jump off," said Tim, as we reached the edge of the water.

I followed Tim up a path to the left, which disappeared into the woods. There was a ledge a short distance away, about 10-12 feet above the swimming hole.

"Hold up," I said. I took off my Ray-Bans, smiled up at Tim studying my face.

"Nice eyes, hon," he said with a smile.

"Thanks." I peeled off my shirt, revealing my slender, toned torso, big puffy nipples popping from my cream-skinned chest.

Seized by an impulse, I said to Tim, "No peeking, hon," turned away, and peeled my jeans and Speedos down to my knees.

I brought a hand to my mouth. "Oops," I said as I presented my creamy ass and long, smooth thighs to Tim's view.

After a moment, I pulled my Speedos back on, and pulled my jeans off.

I let Tim get an eyeful of my long, hairless legs and feminized body as I placed my things into the crook of a tree.

I turned, sang, "Last one in is a rotten tamale!" and jumped off the ledge.

The water was bracingly cold and deep. Tim cannonballed in a safe distance away. We paddled a bit and grinned at each other.

"Great body, hon," said Tim. "Wish I could take a longer look."

We were about a hundred feet from the shore where the main path came in. There was no one yet in sight.

There was an indentation behind the ledge we had jumped off, with a bit of shoreline.

Another powerful impulse seized me. "Just a sec, hon," I said.

I swam behind the ledge, climbed out of the water, and saw that I wouldn't be visible from the path.

I peeled off my Speedos, and pressed myself face-first against the cliff wall, presenting my creamy ass and smooth legs to Tim's view. My fair body contrasted starkly with the dark rock.

I tiptoed to lengthen my caddebostan escort legs and display my ass better.

"Like what you see, hon?" I asked Tim, looking at him over one slim shoulder.

Tim climbed out of the water, fondled my ass with both hands as he pressed against me. "Sweet body, hon. Truly gorgeous ass."

My heart pounded as Tim dropped to his knees and started kissing, licking, and fondling the smooth, soft skin of my butt.

I buried my face in the crook of my arm to stifle a scream as Tim gently parted my the globes of my ass with his hands, stuck his face between them, and started tonguing my asshole.

For endless moments, the only sounds were my suppressed moans, and the sound of Tim loving my ass with his lips and tongue.

If Tim ate pussy like he ate my asshole, his wife was one happy lady.

I could feel myself opening up under Tim's passionate assault. But I thought I heard a peal of laughter in the distance.

"Tim, they're coming!"

I heard the rip of Velcro as Tim stood and unfastened his board shorts.

My asshole was so soft and wet from Tim's attentions that his big cock slid balls deep into me on his first slow but relentless thrust.

For the second time in two days, since Nairing my legs had unleashed me, I had teased a man into fucking me in public.

I must be losing my mind.

Tim fucked my ass with long, powerful strokes, almost lifting me to my toes at the end of each stroke.

After a dozen or so strokes, he erupted. My body flushed in response to the flood of hot seed that Tim was pumping deep into my ass.

Tim collapsed against me with a stifled groan, put his arms around me, his cock still hard and twitching deep inside me. "Oh so good, hon. So good."

I heard more laughter, even the murmur of conversation, from the direction of the clearing.

I said to Tim, "They're here, hon. Put your shorts on and jump in the pool."

Tim pumped his cock into my willing asshole a couple more times, then reluctantly withdrew. Semen streamed down the insides of my thighs.

He slid his board shorts back on, entered the water in a flat dive. I heard shouts and laughter as he was spotted.

I saw that a ladder of two-by-fours, bolted to the cliff, led up to the ledge from this side. I put on my Speedos and clambered up.

I reached the top, peeked out, and saw that the ledge was deserted.

I climbed the rest of the way, stood atop the ledge, and waved. My wife pointed and waved back.

I took a couple of steps back, ran, and dove off. I knifed into the deep water and touched the bottom.

I took a few moments to wash as much cum from my freshly-fucked ass as I could, then swam to where others were starting to enter the water.

I emerged, squeezing water from my ponytail, as my wife met me with a towel and a smile.

"Hon, you are such a showoff sometimes," she said.

Oh, hon, you have no idea.