Costly Confusion

Anal

SS29: “Give Me A Little More Credit Here—Costly Confusion”

This is a sequel to my original long, long, looooooong non-erotic non-epic “Give Me A Little Credit Here.” And so as the heading says, the full title of it is, “Give Me A Little More Credit Here: Costly Confusion.” Luckily, this one is very erotic, and it’s also kept to a (more) controlled length. And they’re not totally sequential, so you don’t have to read the first one in order for this one to make sense, though it (the original) does have more backstory on the characters.

***

September 15th, 7:41 p.m.

The last of the sunlight slowly spilled below the horizon, concealed by the cloudy heavens. It was a mild, cool Tuesday evening, the week before the autumnal equinox. The sky was infused with precipitation, but the impenetrable rainbow stood proudly arched over 301 NW 3rd Avenue, where inside dwelled the happiest married couple in town. Maybe on Earth.

Valerie and Donna O’Hanlon sat together on their appropriately named love seat, feet on their coffee table, TV trays in their laps, dining on their homemade supper of hamburgers, mashed potatoes, peas and carrots, courtesy of Valerie the chef. At one point Donna almost choked on her food laughing at the TV.

“You want to buy a vowel?!” she shouted at the contestant between guffaws. “Are you kidding me??”

“Oh, hell, honey, the show doesn’t give two figs if the people are actually good at the game,” Val explained, as if Donna wasn’t aware. “As long as they’re lively and upbeat, that’s fine with them! That’s all they care about, the Almighty Ratings!”

Donna of course knew this as well as Val, but she turned to her with limitless love in her eyes all the same.

“You’re right. It just looks easy now ’cause you guessed it after only four of the letters came up. You’re so damn smart.”

“Of course I am; I married you, didn’t I?”

Valerie Megan O’Hanlon and Donna Ellie Gardner-O’Hanlon had been ecstatically married for thirteen months. They had spent their honeymoon one year ago in Hawaii, and their one-year anniversary on August 9th at the science center where they sat in each other’s arms in an IMAX theater and saw a wonderful nature film in 3-D which made them both wet their 3-D glasses. Everything they did was so much more exponentially grand when they were together. They were made for each other.

When they were finished eating on this particular evening, Val took the plates to the kitchen, deposited them in the dishwasher and brought out dessert. The lovely thing about eating at home was that the portions need be no larger than they desired, and so they always had room for a treat. So Valerie had brought home a generous helping of leftover coffee cake from Madigan’s, the restaurant where she worked as one of the head chefs.

Donna couldn’t believe how fortunate she was to have met, fallen in love with and married such a talented culinary artist—not to mention a comely vixen of a lady and a delightful person all-around. She was set for a lifetime of delicious goodness. And so she always treated Valerie to dinner when they adjourned out to eat. They normally didn’t dine at Madigan’s; there was of course no shortage of restaurants in the city. They both loved eating, they both loved food, and if they just thought out their meals a bit further, they would realize that if they cut the actual dinner portion short and asked the wait staff for doggie bags, they could both have dessert and have lunch already taken care of the next day. One day they would figure it out.

But food wasn’t their only shared passion.

Delectable sweets and treats seldom ever failed to put Donna in the proverbial mood, and Val certainly had no problem with that. Their marriage made Valerie like and appreciate her job more—which could be incredibly stressful at times—as bringing home yummy leftovers actually helped them maintain an amazing sex life. They could certainly be the envy of other married couples around with the dewy cloudiness of love in their eyes looking at each other and their constant identical grins resulting from a great spree of lovemaking. They loved it, and they were good at it. One thing that made them so good was their steady balance. They kept things spicy and spontaneous in the bedroom, coming up with some pretty randy and raunchy games in the sack, but at the same time they didn’t overdo it, always keeping alive the possibility of topping themselves next time.

Valerie’s work schedule was different from week to week, always laid out for her on Saturdays. Saturday was the restaurant’s busiest day, when everyone worked, and so with everybody in attendance they took care of supplemental business like schedules afterwards. The day after today, Wednesday, would see Val working the late night shift starting at 7:00. Donna, on the other hand, worked a solidly poker oyna regular but flexible schedule in an office, Monday through Friday, though her superiors were gracious enough to allow her to switch things around to accommodate her otherwise. For example, if Val had a particularly heavy week, but had the entirety of Thursday off, Donna could push her time around to work ten hours each Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday, taking Thursday to be with Val. Donna saw life as a privilege. The only thing that could improve her situation was a raise from her (somewhat meager) salary, but she still took home enough to afford herself niceties like, say, a credit card.

As tonight was a weeknight and Donna was working as normally scheduled the next day, they egressed to the bedroom early, picked a scenario to roleplay and got dressed up.

The O’Hanlons had another little trick up their collective sleeve to keep their sex life vital and healthy: the Fantasy Files. Their Fantasy Files were a regular spiral notebook where they’d scribble down activities, routines, adventures, games and other things they’d like to try in bed. Active a couple of imaginations and libidos as Valerie and Donna possessed, such an archive to record their romps and escapades went straight past beneficial and right into essential. Some they wrote separately, some they wrote together, and to date the notebook was almost three-quarters of the way full. When they tried one out for the first time, they went back into the notebook and give it a review: how it went, if they enjoyed it, how much, how to improve next time, et cetera. And they had thought ahead and made a pact beforehand that regardless of the Fantasy Files’ results, they wouldn’t let their feelings be hurt. They had already resolved as an unspoken portion of their wedding vows to never go to bed angry or upset.

Their sexual romps varied depending on the girls’ moods, as well as their work situation the following day. For example, this evening they would opt for a roleplaying production which would cater more to Donna, thereby affording her a mindblowing release which would knock her out like a light until it was time for work the next morning, waking her up in a lovely mood.

Dinner was concluded. They turned the TV off, did the dishes, and Val took Donna by the hand, leading her to the bedroom. She sat her delicately down on the bed and approached the radio. They did enjoy a little quiet music accompanying their private happy time, so she turned it on, at a low, easy volume, infusing the room with soft poppy chick rock, setting the romantic mood.

“Oh, hey, I know that song,” Donna remarked. “Is…isn’t that Jen Foster?”

“Uh, no, no, I don’t think so, actually, honey,” said Val, heading next to their bedroom closet. “I’m pretty sure that’s Velette.”

The song faded out. The DJ returned with a short after-commentary. “The Voxe! That’s right, gals and pals, the incomparable Velette Voxe herself, with her newest single, ‘Take My Heart Away’! And you are listening to WACR—only the finest in acoustic and pop rock from yesterday and today! Now we’re gonna switch things up a little and go old school. Remember this one?…”

An alternative ’90s song started. “Dang!” said Donna, lightly pounding the mattress. “I really thought that was Jen Foster!”

“Ah, don’t feel bad, sweetie,” said Val, retrieving the Fantasy Files from the closet. “They really do sound a lot alike.”

Donna nodded with a smile. “Like I said, super-smart girl. What do I owe ya?”

Val chuckled. “Well, let’s find out.” She turned back to Donna, but before she sat with her to go through the book, she flipped a few pages herself, and when she found what she was looking for, her face rose to meet Donna’s, curling into an evil smile.

Donna, unsure if she should be frightened or not, shyly gestured for the notebook. Valerie handed it to her, and when Donna read it over, she looked up at her wife with an innocent smirk that seemed to ask, “Who, me?”

Val nodded. She about-faced to the bathroom, and Donna went to the closet.

***

September 15th, 8:57 p.m.

The bedroom door was shut. Donna sat on the bed as before, her previous outfit in the hamper. She was now clad in her schoolgirl uniform, consisting of a plaid dress, calf-length white socks and buckled black dress shoes with bows on them. Her hair had been parted and tied into two ponytails on either side of her head. She still had her bra on, but her panties had intentionally been removed and tossed in the hamper. Ready for action, she picked up her cell and rang Valerie’s number, exactly one time, and hung up—their mutual signal for “I’m ready whenever you are”—so Val could come into the room whenever she too was all set. Donna put her phone down, and waited as patiently as she could.

A few moments later, canlı poker oyna the doorknob turned. Donna’s heartbeat quickened in eagerness. She tried to hold back from giggling.

Val deliberately opened the door very slowly, for the sole purpose of teasing her wife. She smiled as she remembered the first time she realized just how much it tormented Donna to make her wait. Once near the beginning of their marriage, she just couldn’t seem to get her makeup exactly right, the way she wanted it, and when she finally came into the room, Donna, pushed past her limits of tolerance, practically jumped on her, blindly horny, mindlessly trying to ravage her wife, relentlessly begging Val to rock her world. It was like finding her way inside a goldmine. She wasn’t particularly proud, per se, of the fact that when she made this discovery, her first and only immediate thought was, YES; got her now! I own her. She’s MINE! But deep down inside, she relished the hell out of the fact that she now essentially had Donna by the pussy. She’d found her wife’s kryptonite.

Val got all her initial silliness out before she returned to the room, as she was playing an authoritative, serious role in this scenario. Her part was no-nonsense, at least in the first stage of their little play. Her face was straighter than their heterosexual friends. Her makeup was indeed done up, and she had changed into her most maternal deep blue nightgown. She simply stood before Donna for a moment, crossing her arms, tilting her head back, intimidating her with her dark stare.

Both were silent for a bit. Finally, Valerie took a quick breath and delivered the first line in a stern, disciplinary voice.

“Your teacher at school called me today, Donna.”

Donna looked up at Val nervously, playing with her hair, pretending to distract her mind from the “trouble” she was in.

“It seems you were a naughty young lady.”

Donna darted her eyes back and forth, playing along perfectly. “What do you mean?” she asked sweetly.

Valerie tossed her hair with a strict flip of the shoulder. “She told me…that you were running around touching, and kissing all the little girls on the playground at recess.”

Donna hugged her knees on the bed guiltily, knowing she was “caught.”

“That’s a big no-no. You do of course now realize…that I’m going to have to punish you for this.”

Donna orally thickened the plot. “But, Mommy, I—”

“No ‘but’s, Missy,” she admonished. “Little girls who misbehave must be shown the error of their ways.”

Donna pouted, batting her pleading eyes. “But…I’m a good girl, Mommy.”

Val shook her head, raising and brandishing a chastising finger. “I did not raise you to be promiscuous, Donna.” She upped her authoritativeness, pointing to the mattress beside her. “Get on your knees and elbows, right now.”

Donna pretended to be more frightened and resistant. “But I don’t want t—”

Valerie took three very deliberate steps towards her, glaring down into her eyes. “I said NOW, young lady.”

Feigning further fear of what Val was about to do to her—even though they both of course knew full well—Donna whimpered, reluctantly pushing herself onto all fours on the bed. A couple moments later, she felt Valerie whip up her dress from behind, exposing her bare ass, which she pretended scared her, but of course both of them loved and enjoyed.

Valerie gasped in mock shock. “Why, young lady!…Where are your panties??”

Donna turned to look at her with an impish expression on her face and as much innocence in her voice as she could muster.

“I didn’t wear any panties today, Mommy.”

Valerie shook her head, trying to throw as much threatening spice into things as she could.

“You are in big, big trouble, you dirty little girl.”

With that, she delivered the first spank on Donna’s right ass cheek.

“Ouch!” Donna shouted overdramatically, reeling from the imaginary pain. “Oh no, Mommy, please don’t!”

“Hold still, brat!” Valerie castigated, holding on to her wife-slash-“daughter”‘s waist with her other hand. “You’re a bad, filthy girl, now you’re gonna get what you deserve!” She spanked her left cheek.

“OUCH! Mommy, please stop! It hurts!” cried Donna.

Valerie let out a sadistically wicked chuckle. “Good. Maybe this’ll teach you to leave the other girls on the playground alone! Is that the way I brought you up?!” She spanked her extra hard.

“OW!!” yelled Donna, feeling that one but secretly loving every second. “MOMmy!”

“Don’t talk back to me when I’m punishing you!” Spank!

“But you’re torturing me!”

“You haven’t begun to feel torture yet.”

The spanking and verbal discipline went on until both Donna’s ass cheeks had turned a nice shade of pinkish-red.

“So what do you think, you little tramp?” she heard her “Mommy” ask her from behind. “Learning your internet casino lesson?”

Donna inhaled, groping for breath. “But…but…”

Val didn’t wait for her to answer. “Do you have any idea what happens to little girls who don’t behave themselves?”

Donna sulked in silence.

“Do you?” Valerie prodded, letting loose with another sharp smack.

“Ouch! No, Mommy, I don’t!”

“They get sent to juvenile hall. Where the other girls aren’t gonna be your friends. They’re gonna bully you. They’ll push you around and take your lunch money. Is that what you want?”

“No, Mom—”

She cut her off. “And then…if you grow up, and still don’t straighten yourself out…do you wanna know what’ll happen next?”

Donna waited. Eventually, before she heard her wife/”Mommy” say anything else, she felt another hard spank. She shut her eyes tight, whisper-screaming at what was starting to really actually hurt, and winced.

“…You’ll go to a real jail,” Val threatened. Unbeknownst to Donna—or rather, to the character Donna was portraying—Valerie was grinning sinisterly behind her, ear to ear. “And of course you know what happens there, do you not?”

Donna gulped and stammered. “Y—…yes, Mommy.”

“That’s right! The other girls in this jail…are much bigger than you,” Val told her. “And they don’t just torment you or steal your money. Do you know what they do instead?”

Donna was starting to become very turned on, just listening to her wife describe this situation. Natch, neither she nor Val actually wanted to be in the situation, but they could put their own preferred spin on it in their bedroom.

Making sure her legs were spread, Valerie went on, slowing down her speech and deepening her voice.

“They touch you…in your naughty places. Like this.”

She stroked her fingertips over Donna’s extremely sensitive labia. Donna gasped.

“NO, Mommy, don’t!” she shrieked, pretending to hate it. “Please don’t touch me there! Please, no!”

Of course she did very much want Val to touch her there, but Donna O’Hanlon really did have the most sensitive vagina in the world—certainly the most sensitive of all the women Valerie had met. Not that she had tested this measurement on all of them.

Val spanked her again with her free hand, taking it up another notch. “Do not sass your mother, young lady. You’ll take your punishment, and you’ll enjoy it. Now be a good little girl…and hold still…while Mommy molests you.”

Donna was so turned on she was starting to sweat, and Val wasn’t far behind. Both girls had grown heavy into kink in their first twelve months of marriage, and this Mommy-daughter incest-play had become quite a highlight in their sex life. They’d tried similar scenarios, substituting an aunt or teacher for the mother character, but it didn’t work as effectively. So they kept it based on a maternal relationship. Donna had only to keep her mind on the fact that this was really her sexy wife. Her real Mom, Carole Gardner, was a beautiful lady, but picturing her doing anything remotely sexual did not give Donna a pleasant feeling.

“Let me ask you something, my girl…” Valerie began ominously, after a few moments of silence. Donna waited, feigning fear.

“Do you want your Mommy…to put her tongue…in this tight little pussy of yours?”

She gasped again. “NO, MOMMY!!” she screeched. “Please let me go!”

The very next thing Valerie did was, of course, lick her pussy. Holding her labia open, she very slowly inserted her tongue just below Donna’s clit, leisurely tonguing her from top to bottom. Donna felt the sensation, screamed in response and continued fake-protesting as her pussy became wetter and wetter, Val feeling the building moisture collecting on her taste buds.

“MMMMmmm…” Valerie commented, removing her tongue and smacking her lips. “Oh, how wet you are down there! You really like it when Mommy tongue-fucks you, don’t you, daughter?! You perverted little harlot!”

Donna started mock-crying. “No, Mommy, I don’t!” she pleaded. “Please stop!”

Val conversely laughed at her, circumnavigating Donna’s hard clit, tickling her cunt and taint. “Oh yes you do!” she cackled. “That soaking wet little pussy of yours proves it. Now I know you love it. What a dirty little whore you are for your Mommy!”

Donna joined the laughing fit in ticklish hysteria as Val wiggled her fingers over her pussy and bum. “No-o-o, Mom-my-y-y!”

The goal wasn’t to drive Donna insane with laughter, but with heavenly passion, so Val ceased tickling her, much as she didn’t want to. Truth be told, Valerie O’Hanlon loved tickling the daylights out of anybody, especially such a lass as her wife—which Donna knew, but she also knew how much more overwhelmingly ticklish Valerie was, so Donna still won all the unrestrained tickle fights. But as for Valerie, the hilarious sound of involuntary gut laughter delighted her like mad, and made her laugh right along. But such extreme tickling had its time and place, and would be considered terribly cruel under the wrong circumstances.

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