Monday, February 20, 2017

The Treasure Box

Hi all.  Time got away from me this week and I have no story to post, so I'm going into the archives.
Sorry.

The Treasure Box

When I was a little girl I loved going to my Aunt Esther’s house.  She lived in a large old Victorian that she and her husband had inherited from her husband’s grandmother.  Of course, I didn’t know that at the time nor did I care.  I just loved the house, Aunt Esther, and Uncle Pete.  They were a childless couple and because I was the firstborn and their godchild,  they spoiled me rotten.  When I visited Aunt Esther’s I could run wild, stay up late, do whatever I wanted.  Needless to say,  I never wanted to leave Aunt Esther’s house.

One day when I was up in the attic I came across an old trunk.  The trunk was filled with what I considered costumes, some books filled with pictures of naked people in all different positions which didn’t interest me at the time, and all kinds of wooden and leather items, things that looked like small tops, long cylindrical things, along with what looked like a long stick with  strips on the end.  Because I was only ten at the time, I was most enchanted with the costumes.  I would dress up and parade around the attic until one day Uncle Pete happened to come into the attic and see me attired in what I thought was a very glamorous outfit along with the stick like wand.   He yelled for Aunt Esther to come up and when she saw me she began laughing much to Uncle Pete’s chagrin. I could tell he was embarrassed but Aunt Esther just very casually asked me to please take off the costume and put it back where I found it.  Later she explained to me that was the one item that was off limits to me.

The next time I went up into the attic, the trunk had a lock on it.  Needless to say, now I was more intrigued than before but although the trunk moved occasionally it was never unlocked again and I soon forgot it existed.


Aunt Esther and Uncle Pete died the year I was 18.  They died in a motorboat accident on the lake in front of their house.  The boat just exploded as Uncle Pete turned the key.  Lucky for me I wasn’t at Aunt Esther’s that weekend or I am sure to have been in the boat with them. 

That was the year I fell in love with Sam Thompson.  Sam usually worked with his dad on Saturday mornings but that particular weekend he and I had plans to go to the city for a concert that evening and decided to make a day of it.  I didn’t learn of the accident until we returned that night.   I was devastated.  My family tried consoling me by telling me they died as they had lived. Carefree and happy.  There wasn’t much left after the explosion except for the big floppy hat my aunt always wore to protect her from the sun.  For some strange reason, that hat was floating next to the dock completely unscathed. 

When the will was read, to nobody’s surprise but mine, the house and all of its contents were left to me. The attorney who handled the estate told me there was enough money left in trust for me to pay the taxes that would be due and the upkeep for a couple of years. Although I so loved the house I realized I would not be able to keep it but I couldn’t bear the thought of selling it either.  My parents stepped in and told me they would maintain the house until I made a decision and there was no rush. 

Four years later, I had graduated from college and Sam and I were married.  We decided we would live in the Old Victorian house and restore it to its former glory by doing a lot of the work ourselves.  We were both teachers, and although there wasn’t a lot of extra money, there were summer vacations and lots of time during the year for renovation.  Many of our friends would come over and join us so most of the time it was more like a party than work.  Sometime during this period Sam and I decided we would make the house into a Bed & Breakfast.  It was a perfect location and without much extra work on our part, it would pay for a lot of the upkeep on the old place. 

The plan for the house was to leave the living quarters on the first and second floor in tact, with the exception of adding a bathroom to each of the two bedrooms.  The rooms were large enough to accommodate a small bath in each.  The other two bedrooms would share a Jack n’ Jill bath and the lower floor would leave the dining room, living room, kitchen and small bath alone.  The entry hall accommodated the registration desk.  This left the basement for storage and the attic converted to our living space.  Any furniture that wasn’t going to be used got moved to the attic or basement.  Luckily for us, there was more than enough and the only household items we had to purchase were new linens for each of the bedrooms.  Once the commercial part of the house was completed and ready for guests, that took the better part of two years, we started work on our own quarters.  Up until then having a place to shower and a bed to sleep in (actually fall into) was our only priority. An outside stairway to the upper porch was extended to the attic.  When we broke through the outside wall there among all the other stuff that had been carted up for storage was the trunk I had found when I was a little girl. 
I dragged it out to the middle of the floor and saw that the lock was still in place.  I found a screwdriver and jimmied it open and all of my memories of that day came flooding back.  I saw Uncle Pete’s embarrassment and Aunt Esther’s amusement.  Now I knew why.  The trunk was filled with adult playthings.  Sexy costumes, corsets, fishnet stockings, garter belts, boots, sexy lingerie, spanking implements, books, pictures, etc..  To say they were adventurous would be an understatement.They must have tried to keep their playthings out of the way of little eyes and put them up in the attic for safekeeping never thinking my curiosity would let me find and explore their treasure chest.  I remember my outfit that day consisted of a see-through chemise, a feather boa and a pair of high-heeled, boots and I was using the flogger as a magic wand.  I sat there and wept tears of sadness and joy and was still there when Sam found me a long time later.

“Honey, are you alright?  I was calling for you and couldn’t find you.  Why are you crying? He asked tenderly.

“I’m crying for my Aunt and Uncle.  I am feeling sad and joyful.  Look what I found”

As he opened the trunk his eyes opened wider.  I told him about finding this trunk years ago and exploring its contents and what transpired after that.  I told him I had forgotten about it and just now discovering it brought back the joyous memories of my youth and also brought to mind what a great life Aunt Esther and Uncle Pete must have had.  They had always been so joyful and full of life.  This trunk was what they were always all about.  Enjoying their sexuality at a time when it wasn’t as open as it is now.  I went on and on how I could see them playing and delighting in each other, all the little nuances that had escaped me back then because of my youth.  I told him how I remember him always giving her swats on her backside when he thought no one was around.  I remember how she always reacted to those swats and then he would whisper in her ear and they would go upstairs for a while. If that was possible, they always came back down happier than when they went up. Now she knew why.

Both she and Sam had the idea at the same time.  They sorted through the treasure box and picked out several items. When dressed in her outfit of long ago, the chemise was just waist high, the feather boa around her neck covered her nipples and the rest of her was bare with the exception of the high heeled boots.  Sam sucked in his breath when we saw her and wiggled his finger at her to come to him. She sashayed toward him and then handed him the item that completed her costume of long ago.  The leather flogger.  He turned her around and plied the flogger to her naked backside, very gently at first and then increasing the strength and velocity as they continued to play.  She moaned in delight.  The flogger moved up her back, down her backside, thighs, and finally her calves as he slid the boots down and removed them.  He turned her toward him and the flogger now found its way to her nipples, her tummy, her inner thighs and at last to her pussy. She was begging him to stop tormenting her and give her release.

“Not yet, he said.  “This is too much fun”

Oooooh, she moaned just as his fingers once again teased her bringing her almost to the edge and then backing off.  She grabbed the flogger from him and began her own assault on his back, and backside.  Now he too was moaning and she could feel his erection.  He was rock hard and she slid down and took him in her mouth. She continued to ply the flogger on his back as she made love to his manhood.  It wasn’t long before he pulled away and laid her down on the floor and entered her in one strong thrust.  It was enough to bring them both to nirvana.  They lay there for quite a while.  When they had recovered she lifted herself up on one elbow and said to Sam

“I hope Aunt Esther and Uncle Pete were watching.  I know they would have approved.  Prudes they were not”.

Sam said “I am quite sure they would be pleased to know we were using their things and teaching us some things as well. This whole box is a treasure trove that I plan on keeping close."
With that, he rolled her over and gave her a sharp slap on her fanny.  

“Ooooh”, she moaned.  “that is such a turn on.  Shall we try something else?”
He grinned and they selected a couple of new items from their treasure box.
                                                        **************
When they came to work in the attic the next day, Aunt Esther’s floppy hat was sitting on top of the trunk.



For some reason I seem to remember that this story was inspired by our own Minelle and something to do with car trips.  I could be wrong, I've taken a lot of drugs this week.  Anyway, see your later for more Aimless Ramblings.

Friday, February 17, 2017

Thanks

Good Morning All

I am back to the land of the living.  I loved reading all of your comments about last Monday's story, the Valentine wishes and of course, the dam incident.  Thank you for that.

On the last day of our trip, I woke with the start of a cold. It continued to progress and by the time the plane landed in Phoenix I was in full blown misery. I've spent the last three days sleeping in between coughing jags.  Poor Ray, he's trying to be so solicitous and all I want to do is be left alone.

Anyway, I wanted you to know that I wasn't ignoring you, just not well.  Better today, still coughing and spewing but not with the same intensity and I feel like the fever is broken.  I'm going to try a day without drugs - I'm kind of spacey.

We'll see how it goes.  In the meantime, here's a picture of the three of us.



See you later for more Aimless Ramblings.

Wednesday, February 15, 2017

LaLaLand

The dam broke and I’m not talking about the Oroville Dam in California.  As you know, three of us were recently together.  While we spent time with each other, we sometimes broke off to do our own thing, and that’s what happened one night.

Our hotel had a movie theatre – the same one we went to see 50 Shades Darker on Friday.  Well, Sunday night, PK and I decided to see the movie La La Land.  Ella chose wisely.  Seriously, it wasn’t that it wasn’t good; I only think it was not what we thought it would be.  The acting was great, the story so so.

Anyway, I digress.  Let me preface the rest by saying that some people’s bladders are stronger than others.  I don’t visit too many restrooms whilst my companions are compiling a list and visit every bathroom they see. 

Sunday, as PK and I left the movie we both agreed that a visit to the restroom was needed but we could make it to our room.  We pushed the elevator button, the doors open, we step in.  The elevator doors close and we’re chatting away in our own little world.  When the doors opened again, we step out and look around. A moment of utter confusion set in as we realized we were still at the starting point. 

PK and I were laughing so damn hard that I started to pee my pants.  I hunched over to try to stem the tide to no avail.  We push the elevator button again, still hysterically laughing.  I could no longer hold back and the dam broke.  Yup, I peed my pants.  My pants got a thorough golden shower, complete with puddle on the floor. 

By the time we reached the room, we were still laughing so hard, Ella didn’t know what to make of it.  She was concerned for PK who was still laughing so hard, she couldn’t catch her breath.  I, of course, was in the bathroom shedding articles of clothing.

Needless to say, we were still laughing well into the night and the next day.  This has to be the defining story of this adventure.


See you later for more Aimless Ramblings.