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While this story can stand on its own, Marion’s Turn, parts 1 and 2 are where it started. Essentially, Marion and her lover take turns leading each other on sexual adventures where anything goes. Since you know what you’re in for, I hope you enjoy it.
I stood in front of her door at the end of the fifth floor hallway of her high rise condo. I was nervous. Her directions on my voicemail were clear: “Hi baby. It’s my turn tonight and you have to do what I say, don’t you. I want you to shower, shave everything, enema, and arrive at my place promptly at six. I want you to take all your clothes off, fold them and put them neatly on the floor, then ring the doorbell.” As I began to disrobe I worried that someone would come off the elevator or out of their door and see me.
I was fully exposed, feeling more so because I had shaved all of my hair from the neck down, again. I was smooth and the slight movements of air felt different on my hairless skin, the currents caressed me differently.
I rang the doorbell and it was only seconds, but seemed like minutes, before Marion opened the door. I reached down, picked up my clothes and scurried across the threshold.
My beautiful Marion smiled widely at me, nodded at the entry table for me to place my clothes there. She was wearing a sexy little black dress, sheer black stockings and black, open toe high heels. Her black hair shimmered. She looked delicious. Marion came to me, and as she kissed me put her arms around me low and slowly, but steadily, worked a decent sized butt plug into my rear. I groaned into her mouth as it seated deep and wide in me.
“Hi, baby,” Marion purred, breaking the kiss. “We’ve got a lot to do before my fun starts. Come,” she said as her small, delicate fingers grasped my cock and pulled me through the living room, up the spiral stairway, into her bedroom and to her vanity.
“Are you excited, baby?” Marion cooed as we sat down. “I am. I’m so wet and slippery. I can barely wait. You’re going to love tonight. I know you’ll like getting all dolled up like a classy little slut again,” she said as she started giving me a pedicure.
“What are you doing?” I asked, since this was new.
“Why, you’re gonna be a total woman tonight. You’re going all the way. A real feminine woman is made up from head to toe. It feels so much more feminine to have your toes and nails done. Even if you have closed-toe heels, you know they’ve got polish on them, like a real woman has. You feel complete. You’ll see.”
She shaped my toenails and painted them with polish. “Do you like the color, baby. It’s a light cinnamon color. Everybody has French nails these days, but not you. You’re gonna be a smoky little slut for me tonight. Ohh, your cock is twitching,” she said and stroked me a couple of times before returning to her task.
As she moved to my other foot I had to shift, and the plug in me pressed against my prostate sending a shiver of pleasure through me.
After Marion finished my toes she started on my fingernails. She put fake nails on me, one-quarter inch past the end of my finger, explaining, “It’s a perfect length, baby. Not long enough to be clumsy, but long enough for a woman to know she’s so feminine and delicate. A real classy length. Don’t you think so, baby? Can’t you feel it? That feminine grace?”
“There. Let your nails dry and I’ll be right back.” Marion put down the polish and swept out of the room.
Marion returned with a rose wine, light pink in color. “I have some wine for you, baby. Maybe not quite as classy as the white I had for you last time, but still feminine. Don’t you think so? I mean, what real man would drink a rose wine. Sip it. Doesn’t it taste as girly as it looks?”
“Here, let me do your face up now.”
Marion clipped my hair back and went to work on my face. She had a subtle touch it didn’t seem like she used much makeup, but my face was transforming miraculously again as I watched her work. As she made up my eyes, eyebrows, lashes and cheeks she talked.
“Mmm, you make such a good looking woman. It’s surprising isn’t it. Are you surprised at how feminine you pendik escort look? I mean, I know I’m good with makeup, subtle shading here and there to make your eyes look bigger, to give you strong cheekbones and full lips to kiss, but it is a bit shocking what a looker you are. So enticing and fuckable.”
Marion worked on my face and talked.
“Do you feel fuckable, baby? Do you like that fullness in your rear as you sit here? I think so, your cock keeps moving around. You’ll feel so feminine and fuckable when I’m through.”
Marion finished my face and unclipped my hair. She wet it, then used a blow dryer, curling iron and brush. The result was stunning. Since the turn where she dressed me in lingerie, a pretty blue wig and makeup, fucked me with a strapon then let two guys fuck me while I was blindfolded, I’d let my hair grow. I tell people I’m growing it to donate for wigs. And I will, but until then it adds more realism to our games, when we play them. My hair is thick, full and parted in the middle. I usually wore it in a ponytail, but the mirror displayed a glamorous woman with sandy blonde hair with highlights. Marion insisted on the highlights, explaining they make a woman more sexy and beautiful. She liked it a couple of inches past my shoulders so I could feel it on my skin, or feel the weight of it brushing across my sexy tops. So I could feel what a real woman feels when she turns her head, or when she’s getting fucked.
“I know it’s cliché, baby, but blondes have more fun. What a nice contrast to my black hair, huh, baby. Black on blonde. You’re going to have so much fun tonight. And so am I.”
With my hair styled and completed Marion turned to the vanity and picked up a pair of dangly ebony earrings that glinted in the light. She handed them to me to put on. I flicked my hair left and tilted my head right to keep my hair out of the way, and as I put them on she talked.
“You’re feeling it aren’t you, baby. You’re feeling so feminine. I can tell by the way you move. You put those earrings on with a practiced feminine move. It looked so natural. And I notice how you tuck your hair behind an ear just like a woman does. Are you feeling receptive, baby?” Marion said as she scooped some of my leaking precum with her finger and fed it to me.
We sipped more wine and she handed me some sheer black thigh high stockings to hold.
“Here, baby, put these stockings on.”
As I pulled them up my smooth leg the plug pressed on my prostate and I unconsciously wriggled a bit extra, inviting the pleasure. Marion talked.
“Mmm, you know baby, whenever I put on stockings I feel so sexy and feminine. I feel like I want to get fucked. Is that the way you feel? Sexy and feminine. Do you want to get fucked? I think so. Your cock is getting harder. Don’t they feel good sliding up your legs? Men don’t get to feel that silky glide, that delicate gossamer flowing up their legs, leading their fingers to pleasure, do they. But you feel it.”
She fed me more precum and as I sat there putting on the other stocking I did feel more feminine, more receptive, more vulnerable. The stockings came high up, very close to my crotch.
“Lovely. Now let’s get these shoes on,” Marion said as she handed me black strappy sandals with five inch heels. I want to see your toes, baby. I think you’ll like it too. I think you’ll like to see your painted toenails while you get fucked. And the ankle straps will make sure they don’t come off while you’re writhing around.”
“Stand up and lean over the vanity.” I took another sip of wine and complied. “No, on your elbows, baby. That’s better.”
I leaned on the vanity, my head slightly lower than my rear in my five inch strappy pumps. I looked at myself in the mirror, my blonde hair flowing in front of my shoulders and framing my face. Once again I was looking at another person, a beautiful woman. I was astounded, could hardly believe it was me. I felt something being pressed across the small of my back.
“What do you think of women with tattoos, baby? What assumptions do you make? Used to be only people on the fringes of mainstream society got maltepe escort tattoos, but they’re more popular now, aren’t they. I mean, even lawyers and accountants have them now. But people still make assumptions, don’t they. Especially about women with tattoos. About their sexuality, their inhibitions. About the carnal promise of a woman with a tattoo. Isn’t that right.”
Marion began to draw on me with a black marker and she talked.
“You see, baby, a woman with a tattoo holds out the promise of sexual adventure. That she’s uninhibited. Doesn’t matter if a woman is submissive or dominant. A tattoo holds out the promise of the woman being uninhibited in bed. That she’s up for anything. That she’ll put her mouth anywhere.”
“You’re already so feminine and receptive. This tattoo will let you be completely uninhibited. You can’t see it, but you know it’s there, like a sign telling everybody what a slut you’re willing to be. That you’ll do anything.” She peeled the stencil off.
“Here, look in the mirror at your promise. Imagine yourself getting fucked while your lover looks at your tattoo and thinks about all the things you’re willing to do? That your lover plans to do to you.”
I held the mirror up and looked at my reflection. Marion had stenciled a simple tribal tattoo across my lower back. The center had a heart shape that worked well with the overall design. It was attractive.
“Do you like it, baby? I like the heart in the middle. A little feminine touch to remind your lover that you’re still a lady, even though you’re a slut. Here, have some wine I’ll be right back.”
I sipped some wine and looked at myself in the mirror: slim figure, gorgeous sandy blonde hair with highlights, dangly ebony earrings that caught the light and sheer black very high thigh highs. Unbelievable.
Marion returned and told me to sit down and I reveled in the pleasure inside me. I watched her organize the straps, bend down and step into the harness. She pulled it up under her raised dress, adjusted its placement and said, “I like this strapon. It sits and hits me just right. There, that should do it,” she said as she tightened the straps.
“Are you feeling it, the moisture releasing in your mouth, the salivation at the sight of a cock? It’s downright Pavlovian, isn’t it. The way a woman’s pupils dilate at that sight of a cock. The way her mouth salivates in preparation to take it in, much like she lubricates to ease it in her pussy. Is your pussy lubricating? Getting all slippery? Mmm, I bet it is. I can see you swallow that excess saliva. You want this cock don’t you. It’s okay,” she said as she stepped closer.
I swallowed, looked into her gorgeous eyes and opened my mouth. Marion stepped close. I engulfed the head of her cock and she talked.
“Mmm, your mouth feels so nice on my cock. Are you working hard to keep your teeth out of the way? You should be. It’s bad form to scrape a cock with your teeth. Ooh, your dick is simply throbbing. I’m so glad you like this.” She rocked gently back and forth into my mouth.
“Here I am all dressed up in my sexy little black dress, sexy stockings and bra, standing in my five inch heels. I’m all dressed up and fucking your mouth while you’re practically naked. A naked man all made up like a beautiful woman.”
She held my head and rocked gently back and forth, in and out of my mouth. God, I wanted to fuck. She was taking me there again. I wanted to get fucked.
“I’m gonna let you be a beautiful woman tonight, baby. A beautiful, uninhibited woman. You’re going to be all the woman you ever wanted to be tonight. Mmm, that feels so good on my clit. Do you want to rub your clit, baby? You can, but just a little. Not too much, I want you to save yourself for later.”
Marion pulled away from my lips; lips that were slightly larger than before, and had me stand up facing the vanity.
“Okay baby, lean down again.” I leaned down on the vanity and Marion gently pulled the plug out of me, causing me to hitch a little, and tossed it in the bathtub.
Marion stepped behind me and I lowered my head. She put more lube in me and some kartal escort on the dildo that sat low on her mound. She rolled her skirt so the inner lining was exposed and tucked what she could under her panties. She eased into me in the brightly lit bathroom and she talked.
“Mmm, feel that, baby? I’m inside you.” She gave me long, gentle strokes. “That feels so good, my cock inside your ass. Your tattoo is sexy, baby. Gives me ideas. Ideas about the things I’m gonna do to you. Because any woman with a tattoo down there is begging to get fucked and used. Isn’t that right. That’s what you want, isn’t it? To be fucked, and used? I’ll be gentle, baby. There’s plenty of time.”
Marion rocked slowly into me and I felt so full back there. I longed for her to hit my prostate, my sweet spot. I thought I could come if she did. But Marion had other plans. She sank into me until I felt her hips against me and she started to rock side-to-side, barely in and out, a little up and down. “Oh god,” I thought, “She’s going to use me to come.” I reached down with my finger, got some precum and put it in my mouth.
“That’s right, baby. Taste the come. See how uninhibited you are? See what a tattoo can do?”
Marion continued to grind at me. I looked up at her in the mirror. Her head was back and her eyes were closed. She breathed harder and ground against me faster, picking up speed. It felt good. I wanted to please her.
She cried, “There! Ohhh!” and quickly gave several long, fast, hard strokes to finish her come. The strokes made me moan. She slowed, pulled out, wiped and cleaned me gently and said, “Mmm, that was nice. I just couldn’t resist tapping that sexy little ass of yours. Okay, just a couple of more things to put on then we’ll go downstairs for a bit.”
In the bedroom Marion handed me some black lace panties. “Here. This is called a tanga, baby. It’s wider than a thong, but narrower than panties or boy shorts. You’ll look great in it.”
I pulled them on, and as they whispered up my stockings Marion talked.
“See, baby? See how they work with your and stockings and high heels. Here, put this bra on and you’ll see how it all ties together.” I put on the sheer, black lace bra on my flat chest. “I got a flat cup bra for you flat chest, baby. It looks good. Now, don’t you feel sexy? That just got fucked feminine feeling, knowing how desirable you are? Here, one last thing.”
Marion handed me a sexy little black dress. It had a lacy outer layer and some kind of microfibre inner layer. I slipped it on and Marion pulled up the zipper in the back. The shoulder straps were about an inch wide. The dress ended several inches above my knee and it had enough material so it had a bit of swish to it.
Marion led me to her full-length mirror. Once again I marveled at the sight of a slim beautiful woman before me. Marion had worked her magic with my face and hair and the clothes looked gorgeous on me. I was flat-chested, but it seemed to work okay on my slim frame.
“Oh my, just look at you. You’re so pretty. You’re so pretty and feminine and fuckable, aren’t you. I can tell by the look in your eyes that you like what you see. Don’t you, baby. And you want to get fucked. Again. Can you sense that tattoo on your back, just begging you to let go of all your inhibitions? Come on, let’s go downstairs, drink some wine and have some girl talk.”
We walked downstairs in our high heels and sat on the couch, talked about nothing and drank wine.
Marin had been keeping an eye on her watch and finally said, “You look so sexy in your little black dress. Do you feel sexy and feminine? Your pretty blonde hair brushing across your shoulders, the tug of your earrings, your painted nails and toes, the silky caresses on your skin. Men don’t get that. They don’t understand how those things make a woman feel so sexy, so feminine. Receptive and eager to please their man. You feel that way, don’t you. Mmm, I bet you do. We’re going to have so much fun tonight. You’ll see.”
It wasn’t but a minute or two later the doorbell rang. “Get that, will you, baby. That’ll be our guest.”
Dressed as a beautiful woman in a sexy little black dress, I walked nervously to the door in my five inch strappy pumps wondering exactly what Marion had in mind for tonight.
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