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The seething passions that lurk within many individuals are often hidden beneath a veneer of normalcy, exposed only under extremely tempting conditions.
The woman who, after a few drinks at a party, takes on all comers, male and female alike. The man who, during a strip show at a stag party, climbs up on stage with the girl and performs with her in front of his friends. The couple who, under group pressure, join the neighborhood mate-traders.
Jayne Morrison is one of these outwardly proper and quite normal people. But within her a love of perversity and a depth of passion she never dreamed existed lie coiled like snakes, waiting only for the proper stimulus to arouse them.
A fictional story about a society that refuses to face many of its real problems.
Jayne Morrison sat on the edge of the bed as she rolled her nylon stockings up her heavy thighs. She never wore tights. Her husband, Jonathon, hated tights. He said they made a woman look like a smooth-crotched, sexless doll — and the last thing that Jayne saw herself as was sexless. She was certainly right about that, as well. She was a gorgeous woman, often compared to the proverbial brick shithouse. Heavy hipped and large breasted, she had a narrow waist — the classic hourglass configuration.
She was naked now, but for the stockings and the black garter belt to which they would be strapped.
She was getting dressed for the office party. Jonathon came to the door of the bedroom and looked in. He was not particularly pleased that his lovely wife was going to a party without him, but he hadn’t objected too strongly. It was simply a matter of office policy that the husbands and wives of the employees did not attend the annual party.
He trusted Jayne and wasn’t troubled by the thought that she might get in to some hanky panky, he was simply a bit annoyed at having to spend the evening home alone.
He would have preferred to spend the night fucking and sucking with luscious Jayne.
Fictional reading for entertainment purposes only.