The Dare
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The letter came in the mail, a small, neatly hand-addressed envelope, almost hidden amongst the junk mail and bills that make up ninety-five percent of what I get. There was no return address but the postmark was local. I get so few real letters now, what with Facebook and emails, that it was the first piece I opened. How many people can identify the instant their life took a new trajectory? I can. It was the moment I opened that letter. “Dear Claudia:While we’ve met, you don’t know me. But I know you. I think you are smart and beautiful; the most beautiful woman I’ve ever encountered. When I hear your sweet laugh, I want to caress your smiling face. And make love to you. Not just to taste your beautiful body, but to meld my physical being with yours. I know you are happily married and the chances of your being swept away, like in a fairy tale, are slim. But I’m hoping that your sense of adventure will be intrigued by what I’m about to suggest. I’m going to dare you to do five new things. If you do them, faithfully and fully, it will be the most erotic experience of your life. Perhaps at the end, we’ll make love. That will be entirely your choice. But you’ll always know the excitement of this adventure. And it will change you. I hope you will take a chance. On yourself. If you wish to begin, dress in all white on Monday.”The letter was unsigned. Was this a joke? I’m not a risk-taker and I lead a conventional life. In truth, while I am happily married, the sizzle had gone out of my sex life with Sebastian. Our lovemaking was the same predictable process. Some foreplay, he grabs my backside, enters me, and within thirty or forty seconds, he ejaculates. He mumbles some words of satisfaction and rolls over. Not storybook material. In my husband’s defense, he could make complaints about me. I don’t participate much in our lovemaking, don’t make suggestions, and am not assertive. There was a time when he tried to get me more engaged sexually, but I was raised that that’s not how women should behave. I know that’s old-fashioned thought, and I should do better. I guess we’re both stuck. Does that justify playing erotic games with a stranger? No way; I’d have to be mad. But is this person a stranger? Clearly, we’ve met. At my work? Maybe he’s someone from the gym I belong to. Or that creepy cashier at the supermarket who always seems to look at my breasts. If it were him, that would gross me out. But maybe it’s the cute guy at the gym who rides the exercise bicycle the same time I do and is always smiling at me. He’d be acceptable. Wait, what am I saying? Cheat on Sebastian? Escort elvankent Never. But the letter didn’t propose cheating – or at least it was just an option. A few erotic games isn’t being unfaithful. Is it? I was in a quandary. Tempted but afraid. I’d need to sleep on this.And then the second letter arrived the next day. “Dear Claudia:I’m sure my letter yesterday was a shock. It was meant to be. I want you wondering who I am, what you would do, where this would lead. All great adventures begin with the first step. Don’t disappoint me. Most of all, don’t disappoint yourself. A world of pleasure awaits you. Be brave. Dress in white on Monday.”The weekend dragged on forever. Then it was Monday. I stood in the walk-in closet for a long time. Then I dressed and went to work. Happily, it was a bright Summer’s day, so my white slacks and white blouse fit in perfectly.I was like an Indian scout all day, eyes alert and scrutinizing every person I came into contact with for the slightest sign of something out of place. I did all my normal activities. To the gym after work; buying a few groceries at the store. No one looked twice at me. Maybe this was a prank. I began to feel foolish.Until the next letter arrived. “Dear Claudia,Thank you. Seeing you in those lovely white slacks caused my heart to skip a beat. You’ve earned the first adventure. There will be five in all. You are to go without underwear tomorrow. No bra, no panties. The entire day. Note who notices, who does not. And how differently you feel. I’ll be watching.”Now, I never go without underwear. And I need a bra. I’m well proportioned, but big enough that I need the support. My breasts bounce around inside a shirt without one. Would I have the nerve to do what this stranger tells me to do?I did it. Sort of. I skipped the underwear, but wore an outfit with a skirt, a blouse, and a jacket. The jacket mostly concealed my top. But as the day wore on, I felt guilty. I wondered what my secret admirer would think when he saw me, as I knew he would. Would he say that I cheated? That’s how I felt. I took off the jacket. The blouse beneath stretched snugly over my breasts. The nipples were prominent and obvious. No one could see that I lacked panties (unless I did a “Basic Instinct” move), but knowing that I was naked beneath the skirt electrified me. A few people at work clearly noticed my breasts, although no one said a word. I was so nervous, so excited by my overt sexuality, that I could hardly focus. After work, when I went to the gym, I couldn’t avoid a sports bra (I’d emek escort be naked otherwise) but there were no panties beneath that those form-fitting stretch pants. My vagina strained against the fabric. The dreaded camel toe look was there for all to see. What would people think? I worked out in a sweat, and not from the heat.When I got home, Sebastian noticed that I didn’t have a bra.“That’s a new look for you,” he said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you go to work without a bra.”“Well,” I improvised, “I got an insect bite on my left breast, and the bra irritated it, so I went without.”“I like the look,” he said with a smile.I did too, but I didn’t say it. Then Sebastian came over and kissed me, and caressed my breasts through the blouse. He hadn’t done that outside of bed for years. It was nice. Another letter arrived a few days later.“Dear Claudia:Congratulations on completing your first dare. I got a glimpse of you and you looked spectacular. I hope you felt the same. Your second challenge will be easy; you just have to enjoy it. I’ve arranged for you to get a full body massage at the Pampered Woman studio in town. It’s prepaid; call and ask for Marcel. I won’t be able to observe you this time, so I’ll need you to tell me how it went. I include an email address at the end; it’s a proxy which will forward your message to my actual email address. I’m not ready to reveal my true identity yet.”Marcel is a French name. Of a man. I’ve had a massage before, when Sebastian and I went on a cruise, but the masseuse was a woman. I could see where this was headed, and I was not comfortable with it. I’ve never been naked with a man not my lover, especially one who is going to run his hands all over me. Would he touch my breasts, my groin? I was frozen. Maybe this had gone too far. Why am I doing what a stranger tells me to do? Enough. I did not call.The next letter arrived at the end of the week.“Dear Claudia:I am disappointed that you have not booked your appointment with Marcel. I suspect you are worried that I’m going to entrap you in some orgy. Let me assure you that Marcel is a professional. He will not violate your privacy. It is a full-body massage, but you’ll be in control. If you ever want out, Marcel will terminate the massage immediately. Don’t disappoint me. Make the appointment.”Damn this guy. He won’t take no for an answer. I booked the appointment.I snuck out from work early to get the massage. The studio was clean and modern and very professional-looking. That eased my nerves somewhat. The receptionist directed me to one of the rooms eryaman escort bayan and instructed, “Hang your clothes on the hooks provided in the dressing area. Put on one of the robes. Marcel will come in shortly.”I went into the dressing section and began to hang up my clothes. I removed the bra. I thought about leaving the panties on, but that would look silly. And I’m sure this masseur has seen hundreds of bodies before, better looking than mine. But I was nervous as a cat. I wrapped the thin robe around me like a coat of armor. A nice thought. Which would not last long.Marcel came in, introduced himself, and asked a few basic questions about my history of getting massages (once), if I had any specific ailments (none); any special areas of the body he should work on (no, although I thought of saying, “don’t touch me.”) Then he asked me to remove the robe and lie face down on the table.A brief moment of panic. How had I so easily been talked into stripping naked before a stranger? What was I doing? I stripped off the robe and crawled naked onto the table.He poured some warm rubbing oil onto his hands and began to massage my back. He immediately noticed how tense I was, the shoulder and back muscles rigid. “You need to relax. I’ll put some music on.”He went to a machine and soft music began to play. I willed myself to relax, and his hands swirled over my back, down to the base of the spine, over the buttocks, down the outer side of the legs, to my feet. It was very pleasant, soothing. Then he moved my legs slightly apart so he had access to the inner leg and thighs. I knew he could see my sex. I began to tremble slightly. He did not touch the vagina, but he rubbed near it. I trembled some more.“Are you nervous?” he asked me.“No,” I lied. “My skin is sensitive.”“You’ll get used to it,” he said. I lay there and absorbed the soothing feel of his firm hands, the warm oil, the soft music playing. I stopped trembling. I was getting used to this, as he said. It was admittedly a little erotic and very pleasant. Then he asked me to turn over, onto my back.On one level I certainly knew this was coming. But on another level, I was shocked. The soft eroticism of a back rub was about to be ended. Rolling over onto my back would be surrendering myself to this man. I didn’t move. It probably wasn’t long – ten seconds? Fifteen seconds? But every second that I did not move was like an hour. I had to decide. Now.I rolled over. I looked into his face. He was placid, undisturbed. I tried to hide what I was sure was a terrified look on my face, closing my eyes to make this all go away. He covered my groin with a small towel. What a lovely gesture of modesty. That wouldn’t fool anybody. Then he began to rub the warm oil onto my shoulders and neck. And then circled the breasts. “So how did you decide to get a massage today, when you’ve only had one in your life?” he asked.
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Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32