Deeper Darker, Chapter TWO: Ode To The Washer..

Info BriiLove
15 Apr. '20


 I found myself intrigued these past two days. After Shames visit and the paper signing, he and I went to a store down town that sells toys and erotic clothing. I found the most awesome collar. Shame invited me to come along with him to a party his married friends are having this weekend. I said yes, can you believe that just a week ago I was planning to be a married woman. 

I took my wedding dress back yesterday morning. I thought I would cry, I am just too angry to cry. Darren was thinking he'd break me, have ME in shambles. I also sold all of the wedding things I had bought. To hell with him and all of this! I suddenly realized that I had $6,000.00 in my possession! 

I went back to the erotic store by myself, at first I got out of the car feeling shy. I was afraid someone would stop me and ask why I was going in and then tell me they knew my mother. Sometimes I amaze myself at how crazy I can be. Who, that knew my mother, would be anywhere near this store? And they would never stop here just to embarrass me, most of them didn't know what I looked like since I had gotten my makeover.

I got the courage to walk into the door after the new me rose up and pretty much yelled "Lucy, YOU IDIOT, go on in. We've got money to spend!". I went to the lady running the register and asked "Where can I find something suitable for a swingers party?", she paused for a moment. I almost thought she was thinking weird thoughts, it was just my mind telling me I was doing something really naughty. She looked up at me and smiled then said "I'll show you to the dance and play wear." At once I felt comfortable again. She wasn't judging me, she was helping me find what I needed so she could return to her post. I found a leopard spotted teddy with matching shoes,a naughty nurse's outfit and an all leather ensemble that made my breasts look bigger than I have ever seen them look. The leather number had zippers on the breasts as well as a zipper down below and came with a set of fishnet stockings. I was enjoying my shopping spree as I walked away from the clothing side and into the toys. I found myself a thick clear dildo, it was filled with beads that made it bumpy for extra pleasure and had a suction on the base so that it could stick to hard surfaces.

I now had my outfit to wear to the party (under my sexy red dress of course) and some toys for my own by-myself-playtime. I went home and called Shame and told him about my shopping day, he laughed and asked me to go with him again sometime. I agreed to go back to the store with him if he would drive the next time, I explained how part of me was a little embarrassed over being in the parking lot. We chatted about a few things and then Shame reminded me that he was just on lunch, then we hung up. I don't love Shame, but I miss him when we hang up.

I took my shower when I got up this morning and called Shame, he's taking the day off and he's coming to take care of some business. After I got out of the shower I found myself extremely turned on, I went into the laundry room and stuck my new toy to the washer and set it to spin. I dropped my robe and climbed up on the washer, slowly slipping the toy inside me. I hit the button and the washer's spin cycle came on. As the washer started moving and shaking, so did the toy inside me. I bounced up and down a little and then started rubbing slowly on my clit. The way the washer shook made me giggle, I stared moaning loudly and quickly found myself screaming out in a fit of euphoria and passion. I pinched my nipples hard, that wasn't enough pain. The new me rose up.

Moments later I started bouncing again, I bounced harder and harder. The pleasure from the bouncing made me giggle a little more and then the darkness inside me told me I needed more pain. I started to scratch myself, I scratched so hard I left red marks down my legs and arms. The scratching made me feel amazing. I looked down and saw my breasts bouncing with the washer, went into a deeper fit of lust and started bouncing so hard that you could hear my ass beating against the metal of the washer. I screamed out "Oh, fuck. Damn it!" I pouted a little and then whined at how amazing I could make myself feel with just a washer and a dildo. I shook hard and realized I was so close to cumming it tickled on the inside. I tensed up, my body felt as if it were going to shut down, then I shook one good time and my softness started throbbing hard. I came hard all over the washer and my toy, my body shaking as it came out. 

I giggled at the mess I made and found myself too tired to get off the washer right away. After about 10 minutes I got the energy to jump off the washer,I tore off the toy and covered myself in my robe. The washer was damp,I found my bleach wipes and washed it off. An hour went by and I started to clean my house, I suddenly had all the energy in the world. I was in a good mood and I wanted to sing it to the world. 

Who knew a girl could be so pleased with a washing machine and a dildo. I got the idea from a friend of mine I had in high school, she told me she came home one day and found one of her dad's girlfriends sitting up on the washer playing with her clit. Supposedly the woman didn't even flinch, she came right as my friend walked in on her and then giggled and jumped down. I don't know if I would have taken it so well, but then again I did just find out how awesome the washing machine was at making me feel like a two dollar whore. Oh what dirty things I can do all by myself. 

I figured I needed to tell Shame about me and the washer so I sent him a text. He text back about 45 minutes later, "Damn, now I can't get up from my desk. I guess I will have to turn down my shades and jerk out this lump you just gave me." I am slowly getting used to someone telling me I turn them on again. Darren would have just said "Good for you." He always got mad when he found out I was masturbating, even though he thought it was a man's "God given right", he's dumb. It's a healthy part of someone's life, man or woman. I am just glad I don't have to deal with anyone telling me it's wrong anymore. Of course I won't go to my priest and tell him I am doing it, he'd want me to come to confession more often. My mother won't ever know about any of this either, she's too fragile and I don't care to explain what a "dildo" is. Ah, to be old and naive. One can't simply learn what a sex toy is, she can't just go google it like all my 20-30 something friends do. 

I chose to be in the know about certain things, I decided that Shame and I are going to talk about what to do and what not to do when you are a newbie at a swingers party. I don't want to walk in and be all,"Alright, who's ready for some fuckin!?" I mean, I assume that's not what I am supposed to do. On the other hand, I haven't ever heard too much about this lifestyle. The stories I have heard have been over dramatized by the idiots who believe any sexual act is just downright shameful and shouldn't happen.

I think I will call Shame and see what's keeping him, I need more information before Friday. My only hope is that this Friday is better than the last and that I carry it over into Monday, where I will end up sitting at an office fantasizing about all of the nasty things I could do to Shame, or by myself. I thought how glad I was that metal detectors can't read your mind. The one's I pass through to get to every separate floor would tell some stories that no one around me would assume I would have to tell. I can't imagine how easy it would be to have people know that I worked all day, waiting to go home and make myself raw with a 7 inch chrome vibrator on max speed. I am sure the women would be jealous, even though they would have looks of horror on their face. 

It's a good thing I get along with Shame, if anything I've started to enjoy the name of the only man who has ever made me scream. Shame the person is great, shame the feeling.. honestly I haven't felt since Darren left me. Who could ask for a better feeling than to know that making yourself happy isn't a crime. Many thanks to Shame, how ironic.