Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 60105 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60105 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
Andrea had a good day today, the app told me when I tapped her sweet profile photo. Her story was the only one available to me now that Hank had become Lydia’s accepted suitor. Lydia’s stories were for Hank alone at this point, as Lila’s were for Bill. Ethan, Travis, and I could all read Andrea’s. She did her chores, and earned some praise from Greta. Andrea’s arousal level started high, at waking, and remained high most of the day, presumably thanks to her training underwear.
I had to admit to myself that the thought of the training underwear, and the effect it had on the beautiful, curvy girl, made me so hard that I would probably have jerked off every night if I hadn’t been so tired. The idea of Andrea’s sweet body simmering with her virgin pussy’s need filled my mind as I drifted off. I never remembered my dreams, but that week I awoke every morning sure that I’d fucked Andrea in my sleep—tenderly at first, as I opened her on my rigid cock, and then very hard as I taught her the lesson in submission she so clearly yearned for and so desperately needed.
Then came the night when the story said, Andrea went out on her first date this evening, with Ethan Carter. Further information isn’t available.
Of course not, because the New Modesty Authority wanted to keep the inevitable rivalry among the associates who courted a household’s subservient girls to a minimum.
Well, I told myself, either that’s that or it’s not. I tried not to build myself up, generally. As I remembered Andrea’s conduct that first night, though, and the way her eyes had seemed to linger on mine, I felt as if that probably wasn’t that—sure, Ethan was basically a good guy, but I couldn’t help believing I had what Andrea Jacobsen needed.
Sure enough, around noon the next day, I got a message from Devin.
Interested in a date with Andrea tomorrow night?
Andrea
As I did my chores, the day after my date with Ethan, I couldn’t keep myself from dwelling on all the complicated thoughts, and emotions, and bodily sensations that had befallen me the previous night.
Mopping the kitchen floor, I remembered arriving at what Lila had told me was the cheaper of the two restaurants in town, the Burger Barn. The vinyl booths had squeaked as we slid in, the fluorescent lighting harsh overhead. I recalled how Ethan had ordered for both of us without asking what I wanted—greasy cheeseburgers and fries that left me feeling slightly nauseous.
Dusting the mantelpiece, trying not to look at the awful strap hanging down from it, I thought about how Ethan couldn’t seem to talk about anything but himself. He had droned on about his job at the feed store, his workout routine, his plans to buy a new truck. My attempts to steer the conversation elsewhere had been quickly redirected back to Ethan’s favorite subject—Ethan.
I thought on the other hand, as I straightened the couch cushions, about how handsome Ethan was, with his chiseled jawline and broad shoulders. But I didn’t think he was as handsome as Dylan—not by a long shot. I blushed as I thought of Dylan, remembering his kind eyes and easy smile. The way he had actually listened when I spoke, seeming genuinely interested in my thoughts and experiences.
My cheeks grew even hotter, and I stopped in the middle of cleaning the downstairs toilet, as I recalled the ‘climax’ of the evening: how Ethan had taken me upstairs to my bedroom after the date. How he had asked Devin, casually, “Can I take her upstairs?” How Devin had said, “Sure thing. Enjoy yourself.”
Ethan had kissed me roughly as soon as we had gotten into the little room, his stubble scratching my skin. His hands had roamed possessively over my body as he backed me toward my bed. Then they had found my shoulders, and put pressure there, to tell me where my task lay.
My whole body went hot, there in the bathroom, as I remembered it. How to my mortification, I had, again, enjoyed my shameful kneeling service. How being made to suck Ethan’s cock—despite not really liking him very much as a person, not even as much as I had liked Carlos—had gotten me wet. How I had clenched, down there, inside my training panties at the way he had gripped my hair, guiding my movements as I took him into my mouth.
I shivered, forcing myself to move on to the upstairs bathroom, but the memories kept replaying themselves. Ethan had taken off my dress, and then my training bra. He had played roughly with my breasts. His callused fingers had pinched and twisted my nipples until I gasped. To my shame, it had turned me on intensely, my pussy growing so wet and needy that I could feel how visible a wet spot I had made on the front of the humiliating training panties.