Stephanie Krieger's Tales

The following morning Jenny was working in the kitchen much earlier than she usually did. It was a work day so she already had a lot to do, but she needed to make sure that Jack was taken care of before she started working on her own day. Dressed in nothing but a transparent laced pink skirt and high heels, Jenny dutifully glided across the kitchen floor preparing breakfast for her husband. Her pussy and mouth both ached from the pounding she’d taken the day before, but it was a warm and welcoming feeling. Time seemed to stop when her body was overcome with orgasms the day before. And now, she was mostly nude, working in the kitchen, her rightful place, to serve Jack. Her heart raced with excitement as she heard his footsteps approaching the kitchen. His face glowed with an immense smile at the sight of his stunningly beautiful wife dressed in a slutty little see-through skirt and heels. She ran over and threw her arms around him. “Oh, sweetheart!” She beamed. “Good morning! Jenny is s...

Jack sighed and stared blankly at the garage door. Work was usually challenging but today was an rare exception. It felt as though everything that could go wrong throughout the day had gone wrong. Anything he did to make changes or attempt to repair problems would only make things worse. And now he was home; content to go inside, watch TV, and try to recover some of his energy before going back to the “grind” in the morning. The only challenge that he faced for the evening was Jenny, his wife. She was usually difficult to read or predict but her mood recently was much more unstable than he was accustomed to. She would be cold and distant one moment and then she would be consumed by a fiery sexual passion that he’d never experienced in his life. As he took a deep breath and prepared to enter the house, he hoped and prayed for the latter. He opened the car door and walked up to the front door of his home. He stopped for a moment to listen for any noises coming out of the house. Sometimes...

Jenny stood quietly waiting at the front door to Emma’s home. The front porch was small with just enough room for her to stand comfortably underneath a small overhang. She was dressed in a thin red blouse and a dark gray pleated skirt. Red nylons matched her blouse and were capped by a shiny new pair of high heels. The skirt rested just a few inches above her knees and if she leaned too far in any direction, the lace designs of the nylon tops were easily visible underneath. Her hair was perfectly parted and her face was painted with soft and inviting makeup: in that moment she was a vision of feminine beauty. She shuddered momentarily as a brief gust of wind caught her blouse and lifted it slightly away from her naked breasts. She had not worn a bra or panties all week but found that she had little trouble adjusting to the feeling of the soft satin material rubbing against her nipples throughout the day. The cool air felt nice moving underneath her skirt and against her freshly shaved ...