From mrdouble@ix.netcom.com Wed Mar 19 23:26:54 1997
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From: mrdouble@ix.netcom.com (Mr Double)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: MRWADE99.STY  A Letter From Carolyn  Part One
Date: Thu, 20 Mar 1997 04:26:54 GMT
Organization: Rosa Lopez Internacial ( R.L.I. Industries)
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MRWADE99.STY                                      BY MASTER WADE

===============================================================
                    A Letter From Carolyn
                           Part One

Dear Master Wade,

   You don't know me, but I am a friend of Karen's.  She suggested
that I write to you because she believes you are capable of
understanding what I've gone through and she seems to think you can
help me.

   There really isn't any short and sweet way to tell you my
story...it's just too involved to do that way.  So if you don't
mind, I'd like to start at the very beginning, so you can better
understand it all.

   I am 28 years old and have been married to my husband, Jim, for
a little less than ten years.  All through our courtship and the
first few years of our marriage sex was good for Jim and I, but in
the last four or five years it has grown steadily worse.  I think
alot of it has had to do with him being so wrapped up in his
business interests.  I really don't think it has anything to do
with me being less attractive, or anything like that, because I
have always worked hard to stay in shape, and lots of other men
(and women) seem to find me very good looking.

   I'm also very sure that it hasn't had anything to do with a lack
of interest in sex on my part, but then you'll discover that as you
read.

   I tried very hard not to let Jim's lack of interest in sex get
to me.  I masturbated very often and just stayed busy with my own
non-sexual interests.  I thought I was doing a good job of
controlling my desires, and I guess I did.  For a while, anyway.

   This summer it seems that my frustration with my sex life
reached its breaking point.  I always think more about sex in the
summertime.  I love to swim and do so several times a week during
the summer months, and I get noticed alot when I'm in a swimsuit,
so I guess that's part of the reason my mind is on sex more.  This
summer, even more so than in the past, I took advantage of how
attractive men seem to find me in bikini bathing suits and wore the
skimpiest ones I could find to the pool whenever I went.

   I attracted alot of attention at the pool and there were a
couple of guys who had made it clear that they wanted me enough to
do something about it if I was willing.  I sort of laughed that off
at first, but toward the middle of the summer I was growing more
and more tempted to take them up on their offers.

   I definitely grew more and more brazen as the summer wore on. 
At first I always wore shorts and a top and changed into my bikini
after I got to the pool.  It wasn't long, though, before I forgot
about wearing anything other than the bikini and secretely hoped
I'd be noticed by some of the truck-drivers who I passed along the
bypass on the way to the pool.

   Then one day toward the end of July I was driving along when
suddenly the left rear tire on the old station wagon I drive blew
out.  I managed to get the car off the road safely, but I was a
long way from any of the exits.  I shook my head from side to side,
wondering what I was going to do.  I had watched Jim change a tire
once, but I didn't really have a clue about how to do it.  Besides,
I was hardly dressed for changing a tire along the side of the
road.  The alternatives weren't so good either.  I could sit there
and wait for someone to stop and offer help, or I could walk to the
nearest exit and call for some help.

   I sat there in the scorching heat while cars flew past without
even slowing to consider if I might need help or not.  Finally, it
got so hot in the car that I just couldn't stand it any longer and
I got out and decided I'd at least try to change the tire myself.

   I hadn't even had time to open the back door of the station
wagon when a car slowed and pulled up alongside me.  I smiled and
waited for the driver to lower the window on the passenger side.

   "Hey, Baby," he said, leering at me, "what's a doll like you
doing along the side of the road on a day like today?  You need a
man, do you?"

   "Maybe, but I sure as hell don't need YOU," I replied, angrily
and stomped back to the station wagon.  He laughed and drove away. 
I was furious.  As badly as I needed someone's help I didn't need
some jerk drooling all over me.

   I was so frustrated that I didn't even try to change the tire,
but just leaned up against the back of the wagon and watched the
cars pass.  Car after car drove past me, some of them honking their
horns, I suppose in appreciation of the bikini, or my tan, or my
blonde hair, or maybe a combination of the three.  But none of them
stopped.

   The longer I stood there the hotter I got.  It must have been
over a hundred degrees there in the sun and rivulets of sweat ran
down my body and soaked the fabric of my bathing suit. I closed my
eyes and tried to forget about my situation and to pretend that I
was at the pool sunbathing, the admiring glances of my two male
friends comforting me.

   Suddenly I was aware of another vehicle stopping and I opened my
eyes to see a wrecker pulling up.  I recognized the driver.  It was
Madley Wilkes, the man who ran the service station where I bought
most of our gas.

   "Madley!  What a pleasant surprise it is to see you!", I said,
smiling.

   Madley had never exactly been Mr. Personality, and this time was
no different.  He looked at me, his eyes lingering at the obvious
spots and then without a word looked at the tire and opened the
back door of the station wagon.

   "No spare," he said, slamming the door back.  "I'll have to tow
you back to the station."

   I was in no position to argue with him.  I was just glad he had
showed up.  I wondered how he knew to come or if he had just
recognized my car and stopped when he realized the tire was flat,
but he was busy hooking up the wagon behind his wrecker and I
didn't try to speak over the whirring sound of the winch.

   "You'll have to ride in the truck with me," he said, after he
had everything hooked up.

   "No, that's okay, I'll just ride in my car.  It's okay," I said,
opening the door.

   "I said you'll ride with me."  There was something in the tone
of his voice that made that clear.  I got in his truck.

   It really wasn't such a long drive back to his station, but I
felt really odd sitting in the cab of his wrecker dressed as I was. 
I was nearly naked.  I guess a girl doesn't realize quite how naked
she is when she's at the pool or where a bikini is suitable attire. 
But sitting there in the cab of Madley's wrecker, with tools piled
in the seat beside me and grease soaked rags scattered around and
about, I felt as if I were sitting there in a bra and panty outfit
instead of a bathing suit.

   When we arrived at the station he moved the wagon into one of
his service bays in the garage and ran it up on the big lift there. 
In no time he had taken the wheel off, replaced the tire and had
lowered the wagon back to the ground again.

   Still wordless, Madley did what seemed to me to be an odd thing. 
The door to the bay had been open the entire time he had worked on
the car, but just as soon as he finished the job, he pushed the big
red button beside the door and it closed.  He walked over to a sink
and washed his hands.  I stood, watching, mainly because I wasn't
sure what else to do.  I couldn't exactly drive away with the door
closed like that.

   When he was done at the sink Madley walked back toward me,
carrying a large sponge in one hand.  He walked up to me, no
expression at all showing on his face, and began squeezing the cold
water from the sponge over my breasts.  I was shocked, both by his
actions and by the cool refreshing feeling of the cold water on my
sweaty skin.  My head fell back and I felt goosebumps forming all
over my body.

   There was a part of me that knew he shouldn't be doing that, and
that I shouldn't be enjoying it so much, but that part of me was
strangely silent.  He walked back to the sink, refilled the sponge,
and returned, allowing the cold water to run over my breasts again. 
This time, before all the water had run from the sponge, he pressed
it to my body and washed me.  He began with my breasts, washing
just the parts of them that showed above my bikini top, and then
moved upward, washing my chest, my shoulders, my arms.

   I stood, almost as if in a trance, my arms hanging loosely by my
side, and waited for him to refill the sponge once more. This time
when he returned, his arm hanging beside him, the sponge in his
hand, he didn't wash my upper body, but instead swung his arm
forward, the sponge and it's dampness flattening itself against my
crotch.

   I gasped, my eyes opening, unsure that I could believe what was
happening.  But it was happening, and as I looked into his eyes I
saw something in them I had never noticed before.  It was lust,
pure and simple.

   Even though there was lust in his eyes there was something else
written in his face.  It wasn't the same kind of lurid sneer that
the man who stopped along the road had displayed.  It was an
appealing look, one which bespoke of power and of control. 
Whatever it was was hypnotic, and I couldn't turn my face from his.

   Madley held the sponge at my crotch for some time, allowing the
water to soak my bottom.  Then he pulled it away from me and taking
me by the shoulders turned me so that my back was to him. He washed
my back, first my shoulders, then my lower back, then even the
backs of my thighs.

   Before I knew what was happening, he unsnapped my bikini top and
stripped it from me.  I turned, my arm covering my nakedness, but
he was already walking away from me, my top dangling from his grip. 
He walked through a door in the back of the garage.

   There was little I could do but follow him.

   The door obviously led into an office of sorts.  Before I even
entered I could see a filing cabinet with old newspapers and
styrofoam coffee cups sitting on top of it, and a torn and tattered
old vinyl-covered couch, mud-colored vinyl with silver duct tape
straining to hold together a rip on one cushion.

   I walked into the office and turned to face Madley who was
standing at the other end of the narrow room.  What I saw made my
knees grow weak.

   Madley stood, his eyes fixed on mine, his hand moving at his
crotch.  He was stroking himself.  He had unzipped his greasy gray
coveralls and  was moving his dark hand back and forth on the
largest male organ I had ever seen in my life.

   The hand which had so carefully been covering my left breast now
flew to my mouth.  I couldn't take my eyes off of his cock!  It was
obviously very long, I couldn't tell how long for sure because
portions of it were covered, but the head was easily visible, and
it was huge!  The opening at the end winked at me as I stared at
it, opening and closing with each movement of his hand along the
thick shaft.

   I felt something inside me disolving.  Maybe it was the
restraint that I had been using all during the summer, or maybe it
was some inner prejudice that had, prior to this moment, convinced
me that I was too "good" to let such a moment arouse me.  Whatever
the case, I was like a cone of ice-cream in the summer heat, slowly
but surely melting, changing from one form of matter to another. 
I was becoming a different person.

   I watched Madley masturbate himself, and as I did my hand moved
to the crotch of my bikini bottoms.  I ran my finger along the
slit, feeling my throbbing clitoris under the material.  I knew he
could see me doing it, but I looked up at him and his eyes were not
on my hand, but were instead glued to my own eyes. I tried to
return his gaze, wanting to at least show him that I was just as
much in control as he was, but I couldn't do it.  My eyes kept
dropping, wanting to see his cock, wanting to watch him touch it,
wanting to see it.

   The longer I watched Madley stroking himself the hotter I got. 
Almost as if I had no control over my own movements I began moving
toward him, wanting to touch him.

   "No...get on the couch," he said, so quietly I wondered if I had
imagined him saying it.  He jerked his head in the direction of the
couch and continued masturbating.

   I sat on the couch and then lay back, opening my legs as I
continued playing with myself.

   "Roll over," he said.

   I rolled over on my stomach, awkwardly reaching under myself to
keep my fingers busy on my hard little clit.

   "On your knees!  Get your ass up!"  His voice wasn't soft now,
it was as if he had expected me to read his mind.  I got on my
knees, keeping my chest almost flat on the rough vinyl of the
couch.  My ass stuck up lewdly, and I had to stretch to keep my
fingers moving in the right spot.

   Madley moved to me quickly, and pulled the crotch of my bikini
bottoms to the side roughly.  His massive cock reamed me almost
immediately, driving into my wet sex with such force that it pushed
me across the cushions of the couch, roughly scraping my hard
nipples against the duct tape and vinyl.

   He fucked me hard, holding my hips and driving himself into me
as if he would come at any moment.  I'd never had a cock so large
and I caught myself gritting my teeth and grunting as he fucked
into me.  The head of his massive dick would bump into the opening
of my womb each time he shoved it into me.  It wasn't painful, but
I had never experienced that before either.

   Suddenly Madley pulled out of me and my spirits sank.  I was
sure he was somehow disappointed in me and was going to send me
away.  I had opened my mouth to protest when he slammed back into
me again, not into my slick wet vagina this time, but into my tight
little anus instead.

   I had been fucked in the ass before, but certainly not by anyone
with a cock like Madley's.  My first reaction was one of terror,
for I was sure that he would split me open with his huge member. 
At first I was too tight for him to get all the way inside me, and
he held himself in me and shoved gently but insistently until he
had his entire cock up my ass.  Once inside me he continued to hold
himself there, not moving, letting me become accustomed to him
being inside me.

   In spite of the fear I felt at having him fuck me harder I felt
my body beginning to move against him, working my asshole on his
cock.  He stood still, letting me do the moving, waiting until I
was sliding myself back and forth on his cock.

   Once I was hunching him regularly he tightened his grip on my
hips and began fucking into me harder and faster until he was
ramming his heavy meat into me in the same way he had fucked my
pussy in the beginning.  I rubbed my clit furiously now.  I felt so
full, so violated, so nasty and dirty and sexy...I felt my own
orgasm beginning and my head flew up as the explosions began deep
in my belly.

   I passed out.  It had happened to me once before...I guess I
just come so hard my body gets overloaded or something.  Anyway,
when I came to I was alone there on the couch, my pussy and ass
both aching but feeling a wonderful warmth they had not known in a
very long time.  I felt something run down my cheek and caught it
with my fingertip.  It was cum.  Obviously Madley had chosen to
jerk off in my face after he had finished with my ass.  I licked my
finger clean and wiped my hand over my face to get as much of the
rest of it as I could.  There was alot.

   I put the bikini back on and tried to make myself look as
presentable as possible before leaving the backroom.  My knees were
weak and I could hardly believe what I had just done. At the same
time it had been the most exciting sex I'd ever experienced, and I
wanted to thank Madley for it.  I was sure I could find a way.

   Continued in Chapter two...

   


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