God what a lousy day......I should have stayed home, and puttered around the house. Always something to do around the house, with immediate results. Or nearly immediate. Not like work.... put in a solid eight hours and get nothing for your trouble.....Screw it, I'm going home...
I shut down the office, and walk out of the building....feeling the sudden wash of fresh air and sunshine, my attitude immediately improves...as I get into my truck and start 'er up, I turn on the satellite radio to a good jazz station.....the attitude is up another notch. The AC cools the cab as I motor down the highway.... another notch....and low and behold, a smile. Now.......... a nice cold pint of ale.
The parking lot of The MacCandless Pub is nearly empty as I pull in, park next to a nicely kept older Jeep. The pub is cool, and thankfully, clean smelling since the smoking ban. God I hate smokers.... the mere idea of putting chopped up leaves on a piece of paper, then rolling it up, putting one end of it in your mouth and setting fire to it, makes me want to laugh hysterically and projectile vomit at the same time!
The old dark wood of the bar is comforting as I take the stool near the end of the bar. The barkeep, a moderately attractive gal, approaches me, asking what I'll have.... "Newcastle", I say.
She walks to the Taps, finds a frosty pint-mug, and draws the pint slowly, with expertise..... putting it in front of me with about a half-inch of head settling..... I pick it up, and take a long, deep, thirsty pull from the draft. I wonder if there's ale in the afterlife? Shit I hope so.
As the cold liquid courses down my throat, and my head begins to clear....I look in the long mirror behind the bar...... and see a woman sitting down the bar from me, looking into the mirror as well...
Our eyes meet in the mirror, and lock for a brief moment......
From what I can see she is pretty. Long dark hair, dark eyes, smoky makeup around her eyes. Not a hooker though..... the eyes have life in them, a sparkle gone from the eyes of those in the money for sex business.
She has a familiar look that I can't place. An expression of loss and frustration at the same time. I look back at my own reflection in the mirror. Loss and frustration. Bingo.
I turn to her...."Mind if I join you?".
"Sure, be my guest", she says.
I pick up my mug and walk the five steps to the stool next to hers.
Now I can see she's wearing a dress.....more a slip than a dress...made of something soft. It flowed around her body but didn't cling cheaply.
"All dressed up." I said.
"I had a date, but he turned out to be a shit". She said, taking a sip from her drink...
"Stupid", I said, and did likewise.
We sat there, sipping...... staring into the mirror....
As time ticked on..... we ordered another round....I, of course, graciously paid, as I was enjoying if nothing else the company of a very pretty lady....
We finally began to talk..... she detailing how the jerk she had been dating finally pissed her off enough for her to tell him to go shit in his hat, and get out of her life.
I spoke of a job that was being destroyed by the political correctness of the industry, as well as laws being made for the criminals......and how I was only working toward retiring in a few years.
Another round, and we were very 'simpatico'........ we began laughing about the absurdity of just about everything...... eventually the talk got around to sex.... the lack of it..... the poor quality of most of it....
.....and fetishes and fantasies.....
"What's yours?" she point-blank asked me........ Well, what the hell, we'd probably never see each other again.....
"I have a thing for silks, nightgowns, slips, dresses,.....I, ...... I get turned on watching a woman ironing them".
Her eyes opened a little wider, a smile crossing her lips as she took another sip of her drink..
"Interesting", she said...
"How's that"..... I queried.
"I love ironing. I mean, it can excite me sometimes, but I can't tell you why.......I just enjoy it, a lot. I never thought about ironing silks or lingerie.... not like that..... interesting, that's all", she said.
Something was trying to escape from my pants. I had sprung a rigid
hard-on at her mention of enjoying ironing. Never in my life had I run into anyone that enjoyed ironing....that found it sensually pleasing....
An uncomfortable silence ensued. We nursed our drinks. We looked into the mirror. Into each other eyes. We turned to each other to say something..... she beat me to it. "Let's get out of here.....to my place, okay?" My heart almost quit beating in my chest. Could this be happening? "Yeah, yes...okay", I stumbled.
We walk outside to our cars, hers the Jeep. She leads the way. We drive about 15 minutes to her house. Not a big house, but well maintained. I pull up right behind her as she exits the Jeep. We walk to her front door and she opens it....
Obvious womanly touches all over the house. She precedes me to the living room, indicating I should make myself comfortable, which I do, in her nearly enveloping couch cushions...
"Beer?", she asks.
"Please", I reply. She glides to the kitchen and returns with a cold bottle. I take a pull, hoping my nerves settle...
She fixes herself a large glass of red, and rejoins me on her couch.
"So, tell me more", she says..
"About...............?" I reply..
"What fuels your fantasy, or fetish..", she says.
"I don't really know........ why, I mean....something happened when I was a kid I guess. Somebody was ironing some silks or lingerie and I became aroused... ever since then.....Ironing silks and lingerie has been a turn on for me.... How about you?" I ask.
"Just enjoy ironing..... but never thought particularly about delicates, like lingerie, or nightwear..... Until now".... she says with a smile...
"Your idea is rather fascinating.....
"I thought I'd try it......... with you. What do you think?"
She must have heard me swallow hard, as she cracked a big smile.
She rises from the couch, takes a swallow of her wine, sets down the glass, and walks back into the darkness.
I sit there, in the silence, and my eyes come across her music system...
After choosing some appropriate sounds, and cueing them up, I turn to see this woman, who's name I don't even know yet.....standing there holding in her right hand an older model iron. Draped over the same arm is a long white dress or gown......
"What do you think of this?" she asks..
I reach out and take a handful of the gown.... The sensation is like holding a handful of mercury, or a half-melted stick of butter...
"My God....this is incredible".....I say.
"Yes, isn't it. Po de soie silk, I think. So lovely. I really shouldn't even think of ironing something like this.... but the idea is.... very attractive to me somehow. I so enjoy ironing. The smell of the warm fabric, the heat of the iron. Somehow so,.......sensual, you know?"
"Yes, I know... Very sensual. Most people would not see that".
"Help me set up my board?"
"Sure, yes........ Where is it?"
"in the closet in the laundry-room, off to the left there", as she nodded toward the back.
I walk to the back of the house and find the laundry room, and pull the ironing board out of its place in the closet. Returning to the living room, I find she's got the fireplace going. Although it appears quite real, it's obviously a gas fireplace,
"Just set it up here", she says, indicating a spot in front of the fireplace. I do so, step back, and resume a seat on the couch. She places the iron on the board on it's heel, and lays the white silk out over the board, the dress of the gown draping to the floor.
" Isn't it exquisite? I think it's hand sewn. The lace is even hand done with silk thread" she says, running her hands over the smooth material.
"Truly a work of art", I say. Seeing her standing there...in back of the board..the light of the flickering flames through both the gown draped over the board, and the dress she still wore from the Pub.
Slowly she traces the cord from the back of the iron, down to the plug end, which she picks up, and plugs into a nearby socket in the wall...
"It's warm in here.....don't you think?" she asks..
"Yes...I'm starting to sweat". At this she laughs softly, and turns the dial on the old iron to "low".
Now, as the soleplate heats, she undoes the fabric belt that surrounds her dress, and the soft material nearly unwraps itself from her body.
As it drops to the floor at her feet, he notes that it too, must be of some kind of silk or satin. This by the way the material puddled at her feet....the sound it made as it did so...a whispering soft whisk.
She is....beautiful. She wears a soft bra and matching panties. Reaching behind her, she releases her breasts from the bra....they do not move very much. Very firm appearing. My cock is raging in my pants. I can't help myself, and grab it...squeezing it to relieve some of the sexual tension about to burst from me...
"Please....get out of those clothes...they're so........restrictive." she says...
I stand, and peel off the clothing....and stand before her....my cock at attention to the situation.......
"Well....Hmmmmmm, very nice", she says......"come close to the board"......
I move up to the edge of her ironing board, she on the other side. She picks up the iron, and slowly lowers it onto the beautiful silk.... and begins to move it over the gown...
I cannot help myself...I start to stroke my erection, feeling the beginnings of both satisfaction, and incredible lust.....
"Oooh...yeah... I like that...mmmmmm......stroke your cock for me...", she says, moving the iron slowly over her gown....
My gaze is transfixed on the scene before me...beautiful woman nearly nude, ironing a nearly priceless silk nightgown...
She begins to get into it....the ironing...the iron in her hand is caressing the silk....smoothing it to perfection...not a wrinkle or fold anywhere it doesn't belong.... slowly..... enjoying each pass of the iron over her gown....her free hand now finds its way to her crotch....and the slick softness between her legs.. She's wet....and her index finger finds her hard as a rock little clit...massaging it softly, it grows against her finger...."MMmmm, is this what you crave? What you fantasize about?", she whispers huskily...
"Almost.... it's wonderful....your beautiful, ironing like that...", I say..
"Almost?....Jesus...what else could make this better? Are you close..? Will you cum for me? I'm so close now....this is so hot..." she says, slowing the irons move across the gown..
"Not quite", I say......
"What do you mean....how......... Oh", she whispers softly...looking into my eyes.
"Yes..... yes......", I say...... She keeps ironing, moving the old iron over her exquisite gown, I keep stroking my cock, as she stares at the engorged, nearly purple head.....
"Will you cum for me?'
"God..yes"
"I've never......."
"Don't if you don't want to.."
"It sounds so wrong...to do that...and I love this gown...it's so,...elegant...
"That's what does it for me....."
"The fact that I love this gown?...
"Yes....and that you might... "
"Scorch it"..... she says.... I feel my cock jump at the words.....
She notices my reaction.... Smiling, now, she moves her thumb to the temperature dial..... and moves it higher.... and higher still...into the temperature range that is very dangerous for this very delicate silk...
"I'd love to watch you scorch it"....
"Hmmmm," she coos.. massaging her clit as she moves the iron a little faster now, to avoid damage to the silk....she can't help it....it's so damn expensive and beautiful....
I reach out and take her hand that holds the iron with my free hand.... and stop it's movement......"Turn it up", I say...
"No....don't make me....", she pleads softly, but her free hand moves faster now between her thighs....
Now I reach out and take some of the warm silk, and wrap it around my cock, stroking a bit faster now....."Turn it up", I say....
"Please baby....no...please...." she softly begs, as she keeps moving her fingers faster over her hard nub...
"Burn it..burn it", I say, watching the iron in the middle of her gown now....
"No...please...no....no...", she pleads....as her thumb moves the dial up......all the way....to the "Very High" setting....
The smell of scorching silk begins to fill the air.... she tries to move the hot iron, but I'm holding it still, in the middle of the dress of her gown......
The old iron reaches the temperature fatal to the delicate silk quickly.... smoke begins curling up from the burning gown....
"God-Oh God-Oh God....." she cries....cumming, and cumming...shivering as the orgasm travels through her body...
She looks down at the scene before her, as she shudders through another climax...seeing him climaxing....squirting cum onto the gown...she cums yet again!
I'm exploding...squirting my cum over the burning silk.....
The iron sits on it's heel, cooling... The gown is utterly destroyed, a black iron-shaped burnmark directly in the center of the skirt of it...
"I don't think I will ever iron anything again without thinking of this", she says, as we recline on her couch sipping more liquid refreshment.
"My name's.......
"NO", she says. Not yet. Maybe later........next time", again with the smile..... and now I smile back at her....actually, a shit-eating grin...
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CCR01
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