... our erotic memoir

This is a sequel to “Ali and Me 3- Summer Fun.”

A year and a half after Summer school ended, Ali ghosted me. Oddly, I wasn’t invited when she and Jim married, though she did send an announcement card. By then, I was married too and had an infant. Mira and I sent a gift and a joint, non committal congratulations card and wished them the best. Ali sent us a Thank You card with a wedding photo. Sadly, I had my doubts they would last.

Ali looked great in her poofy bridal gown. Seeing her pretty face again made me happy for them and sad, or at least nostalgic for all the casual and intense sex we’d had. I had to wonder if she were still a ‘hot wife’ for him, but with someone else.

A few months later, out of the blue, Ali called to catch up as though we were suddenly close friends. After a few highlights, she said she was not ‘hot wifeing’ with anyone and teased that I had spoiled her. I didn’t expect her to accept when I invited them over for brunch to meet my wife and kid. Mira was curious to meet Ali though she’d heard little about her. This was likely to be deliciously awkward. Jim had never met the real me, despite our close encounters, and only knew me as Dick One.

Mira answered the doorbell in a casual tank top and loose skirt as I set out some amuse bouches and braced myself for any explosion from my wife’s meeting a former, frequent lover. Instead, I heard squeals and saw hugging as if they were old friends meeting again. Ali ambled in and tried to appear comfortable. Her flickering eyes and twitching lips said she wasn’t. She hustled over to me for a prolonged hug then held my face as she kissed my mouth — no tongue. Mira’s brows lifted, but she said nothing. “Jim couldn’t make it. Oh, hell, he felt odd about finally meeting you, Al. I’m glad he didn’t come this time, but we will gather another time.” What is that about, I wonder?

Ali had a pound of makeup troweled on her pretty face as usual, but her lipstick and eye shadow were expertly applied and less glaring. She wore a similar pencil skirt and top as the ones when she asked about her stockings.

Out of the blue, Ali made a point of telling us about Jim’s academy days and how strict they were. “Boot camp is always so cruel. Even conjugal visits were extremely limited. Did they think sex-starved men fought better? Or, I wondered, if that was preparation for months at sea where they had to find other means of satisfying each other. Rules were so picky, I swear their slacks had bigger left legs and they all had to ‘dress left,’ if you know what I mean.” She winked. I did know exactly what she meant and was shocked Ms Prim and Proper would bring that up.

Failing to get a strong reaction from us, she volunteered some embarrassing incidents with Jim. One such was at a dinner with friends at a restaurant. She said his slacks were bulging and she commented without filters, “I can just eat him up.” She blushed and claimed she meant it as the usual cliche while everyone noticed her staring at his bulge. That was another provocative tidbit which seemed odd for her first meet with Mira. If we were alone, I would have teased her back. Instead, I bit my tongue and angled my head to Ali in wonder. Something basic about her had changed or been uncaged.

When she fidgeted in her seat, I noticed that her control tops were high up her slim thighs. She noticed me noticing and smiled a sexy smile. Mira noticed the pregnant pause and asked, as she poured coffee, “What’s going on here? That exchange looked like there’s a story to be had.”

“Well...” Ali began. “I assumed he told you all about how we met and where we went from there. Al?”

“All he told me was that you dated once; the car broke down, and you became friends. Oh, and something about stocking advice? That never made sense.”

Ali stuffed a mini pastry in her mouth and deflected to me with a giggle. Awkward was right. “Well, Mira, you see how high her control tops are now?” I pointed to the groin-high stockings and the tip of Ali’s visible panties. “I’m just remarking that she’s following my advice.” Ali’s knees fell farther apart and she brazenly flashed more of her white panties for Mira and me. I added a strong dose of Sambuca to all our coffees and adjusted my slacks.

“Al, you keep calling them control tops, but they are actually Hold up or Stay Ups. Didn’t you tell her about how you instructed me to adjust my stockings and took advantage of naive me?”

“Naive YOU? Ha. You had complete control over me then and afterwards. We just never acknowledged it. I knew better if I wanted to keep meeting you. Yes, I know about the name, but the Hold Ups is the name for the whole stocking. The elasticized band at the top of each leg has no name I know of other than Welt which is the reinforced top for stockings which don’t stay up on their own. I looked them up.”

“Well, why don’t we show her what happened? You can recreate it and I’ll correct you when you stray from reality. I dare you.” I did a spit take into my cup and gulped.

Mira’s eyes popped. “Yes, Al. Show me. What ... did ... you ... do?”

Ali slid off her seat and ignored her rising skirt, “We can start from when you called my hose granny stockings.” She stood against a wall.

“Well, Mira, let’s start just before that. It was weeks after her birthday ejection, when she pushed me out of her apartment party and told me to get lost — I told you about that too — and I figured she was still pissed with me, so I was actively avoiding her. Yet, she stomped over to me that day and without any greeting demanded to know if it were true that men found it sexy to see the lacy top of stockings. When I started to confirm that, she huffed and stomped off.

“With nothing to lose, I said, ‘Let me speak bluntly. THOSE are not sexy. They look like granny support hose with the lacy tops fallen to your knees.’ I suggested that to be sexy, the lace has to be very high up your thighs and the upper end, in my opinion, has to be in the tapered dip above the biggest thigh muscle and within a breath of your vulva. It’s sexy because it tells us we’re getting very close to seeing your taboo pussy, or at least your panties.”

“Don’t that beat all, Mira? Do these look like granny hose?” Ali pressed as she raised her skirt. Those shear stockings did NOT look like granny support hose. Mira stared and shook her head.

“I asked where there was a full length mirror nearby, besides the ladies’ room? But, there were too many people around to do what I wanted to do without embarrassing her, so I asked her to check the Ladies’. It was empty so I went in with her. You sure you want to hear the rest of this, Mira?”

“Please. It’s just getting interesting. Continue.”

Reluctantly, I continued, “Her beige, wool skirt ended about four inches over her knees, but her stocking tops were below that and went to her knee joint. ‘Trust me?’ I asked with truly honest intentions. She paused, then nodded. I asked her to raise her skirt to mid thigh, then higher.” Ali raised her skirt to reveal half her tiny bikini panties to Mira. “When she did, I asked what she thought about how her tops looked in the mirror. ‘Ugly! Hideous!’ she said. I had her take off one shoe, knelt and put her warm foot on my thigh. After struggling to stretch her stocking, starting at her toes, I kept stretching the stocking and sliding my hands up her slim leg for the most intimate contact we’d ever had. Between her raised leg and my movements, I had frequent and prolonged peeks at her pale green bikini panties.

“I asked her to lift her skirt higher for me and spread her feet. She scoffed, justifiably believing I wanted a close up view, but lifted it to full panties’ height anyway. I got my hands inside her stocking top and pulled and stretched it along her shapely thigh. Yes, I made sure to brush her pussy every time I pulled the inner tops up. She flinched the first time, but was very stoic after that so I enjoyed my prolonged contact with her smoldering pussy. Then she began directing my attention where she wanted it.”

“You’re right, Al. I asked about tiny model tits like mine then asked if you saw any CT in my panties. You never answered.”

“Yes, there was a thickening camel toe, as there is now, and I kept trying to sniff it as I tightened her panties around it. She smiled and closed her eyes, visualizing her arousal at exhibiting, as I pressed lazy, daring circles around her dampening pussy.” I dared to rub her dampening white panties as Mira watched. Both gasped.

“That was a huge change from the wussy you were when we went out. You were confident and seemed to know so much more than during our date. I like confidence in men, people, who stand up to me. Family always gave in to me no matter how crazy my demands were. They made me believe that pretty girls always got and deserved what we wanted. I had little to do with being pretty until I noticed some skin flaws and used makeup to hide them. Then flat chested women became vogue for models and here I am, taking advantage of my pretty face.“

“Wow. That’s more insightful honesty than you showed even in our raw talks. I’m proud of you for that. During the date, I tried to impress an aloof, worldly model who was beyond my reach. That day, your aggressive approach was a mask for what you really wanted. At first, I thought you just wanted some simple teasing, exhibitionist fun. Your reaction to my touching your panties-clad pussy told me you were deeply horny and wanted much more — like now. Again, I had nothing to lose since you’d already rejected me twice.”

Now the visit was getting dangerous. Mira had walked out on her fiancé when she stumbled on him fucking a stranger with another couple sharing the bed. As they traded partners, he invited Mira to join them. She couldn’t handle the possibility so she threw her ring at him in a rage and stormed out. The next few minutes would test her growth and trust.

“So, after I stretched the other stocking, I exercised her pussy and thumbed her clit — no more subtlety needed! A small wet spot appeared and quickly grew so I inhaled her subtle, heavenly scent. She was silent, her head tilted back. Her clit was already escaping its hood and putting a dent in her panties. I slipped two fingers into her wet panties and she gasped, but didn’t object. Even if someone entered, I wasn’t about to stop. My fingers slid up and one bumped over her clit and I lightly pinched it. She lurched and grunted.” With my fingers once again in her pretty pussy, in my home, I turned to see my wife breathing hard as she rubbed her own pussy over her skirt.

“Come closer, Mira. She’s wet already and smells great. Get your nose next to her pussy and stay close for this part. I slid her panties down, like this, while she still kept her skirt at hip level.” Ali glowed as I fulfilled her goal for the day. Mira gasped at the sight of a stranger’s pussy exposed by me. Her eyes flickered back and forth as she considered flight or stay. After all, this was a mere reenactment of things that happened years ago.

To help her decision, I continued, “Her bald pussy lips were swollen, gaping and inviting. I accepted the invitation and dove in nose first. Even while inhaling her deepest fragrance, my tongue pushed in and licked her swollen outer and inner labia and I drank her sweet and intoxicating nectar.” Just an inch from my wife’s face, I copied my actions and lapped the same intoxicant from her married pussy. “Her gasp echoed and amplified in the rest room. It was truly music to my ears. My fingers slid under my tongue and pulled more of her tangy nectar into my hungry mouth. I surrendered to the moment, as did she. Our breathing quickly increased and long before I expected or wanted it, she shuddered and hissed a barely controlled orgasm. I savored her extra flow and kept drinking.” Ali moaned and guided Mira closer to her sex.

As I encouraged Mira to lap Ali’s glistening pussy, I noticed she had pulled Mira’s skirt fully up her back and pushed her panties to her knees without objection. As my wife happily licked Ali’s nectar, Ali stroked her bared ass then reached under Mira’s front skirt and noisily fingered her wet pussy.

“Ali, I see you still wax your labia. I love how smooth they are while you still have some blond hair above them.” As I said that, I released Mira’s skirt and pushed it and her panties to her feet. She stepped out of her clothes and spread her legs to display her swollen and hairy pussy to us both, and surprisingly sighed her approval. Ali’s moans got louder. Mira’s fragrant juices added to Ali’s and filled the room.

Between gasps, Ali added, “I’d let waxing go for a while. But when I planned to meet you today, I waxed it clean last night. I remember you like the smoothness and I like your gorgeous, stiff, uncut cock. I need it.”

“Wait! You planned to expose your pussy to me and my wife? Were you hoping for a repeat of... ?”

“Yes, of course I am. Mira wasn’t with us then and we hadn’t met Rose yet so I didn’t know I liked pussy too. You spoiled me as you trained me. As I was a ‘hot wife’ for Jim, I want you to be the same for Mira. Are you up for that?”