Friday, July 14, 2023
Thursday, July 13, 2023
My affair part 3
"I never thought about recreational cast," I admitted, a smile playing on my lips.
"It sounds exciting. Do you have any suggestions on how to get started?"
Roberto's eyes sparkled with a mix of enthusiasm and reassurance as he responded,
"Don't worry, I can take care of everything for you. I'll make sure to get all the necessary materials and handle the casting process myself. You won't have to worry about anything."
I listened intently as Roberto explained the process of recreational casting. Intrigued by his passion, I couldn't help but wonder about his motivations. Why an interest in such a strange fetish.
"It's fascinating to hear about recreational casting," I said, crossing my long legs and rubbing my injured ankle slowly, watching his reaction. Some would say teasing him.
"But I'm curious, Roberto, what do you get out of it?"
Roberto's expression shifted slightly, his eyes revealing a mix of excitement and pure lust.
"Well, Charlize, it's true that I use unconventional processes to please some of my sexual desires and I love to challenge societal norms. Recreational casting, for me, goes beyond just creating beautiful and useful casts. When applying a leg cast on a sexy woman like yourself, there is a power dynamic between the caster and the one being cast."
Oh my, I was so curious now, I removed my high heel shoe from my injured foot. I was rubbing my ankle, foot and toes. He could't stop staring at my leg and ankle.
"Could you elaborate on that?"
Roberto took a deep breath, staring at my small foot, toes and my long fingers.
"You see, there is a certain sexy vulnerability that comes with wearing a non weight bearing leg cast and using crutches for a few weeks. It opens up a space for trust and intimacy. By applying the cast and providing the support you need for your slightly injured ankle, I find a sense of connection and let's be honest sexual attraction. It's a delicate balance between the casting artist and the married and injured model." He said staring at my wedding right.
I absorbed his words, squeezing my legs together when he leaned over and grabbed my high heel shoe, caressing the smooth leather and the stiletto heel.
He then grabbed my food in his hands, rubbing my sprained ankle, sliding his hands from my ankle to my calf muscles. I just stared into his eyes while spreading my legs open. I looked around when his fingers reached my vagina rubbing against my panties. I moaned quietly.
"Not here, not in public" I said
But I was so turned on by him, by his honesty, by the idea of being casted, by the physical limitation with emotional, psychological and sexual attraction.
"I, I understand," I finally responded, my voice filled with sexual need to be so much more than only touched between the legs.
Roberto smiled. "Thank you for being open, Charlize." his fingers slid beside my panties and entered inside my vagina, the air seemed to disappear in the room, I couldnt breath staring at his lips and mouth.
"Oh my god..." I moaned
I was intrigued by the audacity of his moves, of his desires while feeling his fingers inside me, curling against my clitoris. I closed my eyes.
"Imagine Charlize, your sexy long and strong leg in a vivid red cast and navigating your world with crutches. No pain at all, but rather pure pleasure and some vulnerability. Remembering this very moment when you came for the first time in public"
I couldn't stop it anymore, my body shook from the orgasm that rocked my world while I pushed his fingers between my legs even harder and deeper inside.
After our enlightening conversation, we reached a mutual understanding that Roberto wouldn't apply the recreational cast on my leg that day. We both recognized the importance of taking time to consider such a decision, especially since wearing the cast would mean committing to it for several weeks. I would need to make up a story.
As the realization settled in, I couldn't help but feel a magnetic pull towards Roberto. Our encounter had opened a door to a world of possibilities, one where vulnerability, trust, and unconventional expressions of lust. The idea of making a story for wearing a recreational cast was so much more than just a physical experience, a journey towards understanding my own desires and my boundaries.
Leaving the bustling café, I found myself in a daze, limping on the sidewalk with my injured ankle throbbing more and more. The encounter with Roberto had left me in a state of disarray, my panties still damp from what we shared. I was torn between the comfort of my marriage and this newfound sexual connection. The ache in my ankle mirrored the connection.
The sensations between my legs served as a constant reminder of the passion I felt. It exhilarated and terrified me at the same time. I knew that choosing to pursue this path with Roberto would come at a price but the attraction was undeniable, stirring a desire that had long been suppressed.
Taking time to sleep on it would assist me in reaching the right decision. At the very least a clearer perspective I hoped.
I was half right about that.
The next morning I dressed in joggers, shorts, and a t-shirt, I told my husband I was going to a softball game with friends. But instead, I found myself standing outside Roberto's discreet art studio, anticipation surging through my veins. With every step I took, the weight of secrecy and desire grew heavier in the air.
As I entered the studio, my eyes were immediately drawn to his paintings adorning the walls. Each piece skilfully showcased the intricate interplay between strength and vulnerability, a testament to Roberto Robinson's artistic approach.
I was so excited as I approached the casting table, fully aware that accepting to be casted would mean so much more than the physical cast. Roberto's fingers were holding crutches, my crutches, as if caressing the smooth surface. I took a deep breath, gathering the courage to speak.
"Roberto, I've been thinking about this," I confessed, my voice quivering with anticipation, ready to step back and go home.
He looked at me, his eyes filled with desire.
"First tell me, Charlize. What is it that you seek?" he inquired, his voice laced with a hint of excitement.
My heart raced out of control.
"I wanted to explore my boundaries," I replied, past tense despite what my body was telling me.
A knowing smile played on Roberto's lips as he gently took hold of my hand.
"Charlize, you've come to the right place," he said and he kissed me.
Part 4 to come
K
Wednesday, July 12, 2023
Tuesday, July 11, 2023
My affair part 2
The café buzzed with activity, and I took a moment to survey the eclectic crowd. People of different backgrounds and interests filled the space, creating an atmosphere of vibrant energy.
As I let my gaze wander, my eyes were drawn to a figure seated at a corner table. He stood out from the rest, tall and impeccably dressed, exuding an air of confidence and intrigue. His dark hair framed a chiselled face, while his piercing blue eyes seemed to hold a world of secrets.
Then I saw a woman walk to him, he was intrigued by the younger woman talking to him. He was engaging in a conversation while touching the woman's broken arm that was in a long pink cast resting in a sling.
My curiosity was piqued and I couldn't help but eavesdrop on their conversation to the best I could. He seemed genuinely interested in the story behind her broken arm, and I couldn't help but wonder how the poor girl broke her arm. Silently, listening intently as they continue their conversation.
He had a charming smile and he asked her how the cast felt on her arm, not how she broke it. She responded, seemingly amused, sharing about her daily routine and the reaction of her boyfriend to her long arm cast. Her words struck a chord within me, as I wondered how my husband would react if I was in the same situation.
He was probing her further and I noticed she was hesitating when she glanced in my direction staring at my legs and injured ankle. I will never know if she knew I was listening but she described to him how sex was while in a full arm cast. She really went into detail and explained the complexities.
"Thank you for the cast, I love it" She said to him but stared at me.
I felt the weight of her message, her arm isn't broken. She stood and left the café, smiling at me again.
I found myself irresistibly drawn towards him. I had never done that before, I stood and limped closer to him, guided by je ne sais quoi. As I approached his table, my sprained ankle protested with every step I took, but my determination outweighed the pain. OK let's be honest here, the pain wasn't that bad. Our eyes met and he smiled at me. I offered a shy smile in return, feeling an unspoken connection ignite between us.
"May I join you?" I asked, my voice laced with a mixture of hesitation and anticipation. Anticipation for what? After all we were in a public bistro.
"Please, have a seat, rest that ankle miss" he responded, gesturing towards the empty chair across from him but looking at my sprained ankle.
I carefully settled into the seat, mindful of my injured ankle. There was a new type of excitement running through my veins as we engaged in casual conversation, sharing snippets of our lives and exchanging pleasantries. His name was Roberto Robinson and he had my total attention.
"I'm an artist," he whispered, his voice so sensual.
"I love capturing the beauty of the human form in every shape it takes, even in its delicate conditions like if injured or broken."
The words "conditions and broken" echoed through my mind with the memory of the young lady I had seen earlier. Could she be one of those captivating forms he spoke of? At that moment, I couldn't help but imagine the young lady as a result of Roberto artistry, gracefully limited with her broken arm cast and sling. The tender vulnerability of her condition seemed to add to her look, inviting admiration for the resilience she showed in her full arm cast.
Roberto's words played on in my mind like Slave to Love from Bryan Ferry. I wanted to know more about the connection between his artistic talents and the mysterious woman.
As we kept talking, I became really interested in what he had to say. Roberto's enthusiasm was contagious, and I couldn't help but be drawn to his words. While we were chatting, I noticed that Roberto's eyes quickly glanced down at my lower legs, specifically my sprained left ankle. It was clear that he noticed the discomfort it was causing me as I walked over to his table. Suddenly, his expression changed, and if I had to describe it, I would say he looked like a cat about to eat a canary. He leaned forward slightly, as if he had something important to share, a secret.
"Charlize, have you ever considered recreational casting for your sprained ankle?" Roberto asked, his voice gentle and filled with genuine concern.
I raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his suggestion. "Recreational casting? What do you mean?"
He leaned back, a hint of excitement in his eyes.
"Well, it's a unique approach to healing and recovery. Instead of just using a traditional medical brace, recreational casting involves creating a customized and sexy leg cast that not only supports the injured ankle but also provides a sense of comfort and even enjoyment during the healing process."
I listened intently, a mixture of curiosity and skepticism brewing within me.
"Wait, how does it actually work? Don't I need to see a doctor or go to the hospital?" I asked, feeling a mixture of curiosity and concern while looking at my ankle.
Roberto's smile grew wider, and he seemed eager to explain.
"No, not at all! You don't need any medical procedures like realigning bones or going to the hospital, It's just a mild sprain" he reassured me.
"Recreational casting is a different approach. It's about providing stability for a certain period of time while turning your injury into something special. You can make it a sensual experience by choosing a bright and colourful cast. It's not just about looks, It can actually help your healing process go faster," he explained passionately.
"Instead of feeling down about your injury, you can embrace it as a temporary adventure and find happiness in the process of getting better. Plus, it's a great way to start conversations and share your unique story with others, you become a new persona of yourself" Roberto concluded, his voice brimming with enthusiasm.
As I listened to Roberto's words. I pictured myself for the first time on crutches, gracefully moving with them with a red or sleek black cast on my lower leg. The image of it intrigued me, and I couldn't help but wonder about the curious questions I would receive from others.
I imagined them approaching me, their eyes drawn to my injured limb.
"What happened to your leg Charlize?"
Part 3 to come
Monday, July 10, 2023
Sunday, July 9, 2023
My affair part 1
My affair part 1 intro
I stood tall in front of the long mirror, analyzing my reflection. At five feet nine inches, I've always been grateful for my long legs, my sense of confidence and presence. I chose a black leather pencil skirt and a white blouse that hugged my curves just right, accentuating my slender figure. Completing the ensemble were sleek black high-heeled pumps, adding an extra level of sophistication to my look.
With each step I took, I loved the click clack of my heels through the hallway as I made my way downstairs. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, mingling with the sound of my children's laughter. I made my way to the kitchen, where my husband, John, was already at the breakfast table, reading the morning newspaper on his i-Pad.
"Good morning," I greeted him with a warm smile, planting a kiss on his cheek.
John looked up from his tablet, his eyes lighting up looking at me.
"Good morning, Charlize," he replied, his voice filled with genuine affection. "You look stunning, as always." He said and I chuckled softly, accepting the compliment.
"Thank you, John. You always know how to make me feel good."
We settled into our morning routine, sipping coffee and engaging in light banter about our plans for the day. John, a successful businessman, often had a full schedule. You could say that I had transitioned into the role of a young retiree, managing our household and caring for our two children, Sarah and Jack.
As I watched John interact with our children, I couldn't help but feel happy for the life we've built together. Our beautiful home, filled with warmth and love, is a reflection of the effort we've put into our marriage.
Yet, beneath the surface I was missing something, there was a restlessness brewing within me, an unspoken desire for something more, something new and maybe scary. I wanted to literally push the boundaries of my comfort zone.
If you are reading this, you know what I mean.
The routine of school drop-offs, grocery shopping, and play-dates began to feel suffocating at times. I found myself longing for excitement, adventure, and a taste of the unknown.
As the morning sun streamed through the kitchen window, casting a warm glow over our breakfast table, I made a silent promise to myself. I vow to be opened to possibilities, maybe even act on some deep and secret desires.
I would never cheat on my husband.
Little did I know that my resolve would soon lead me down a path I never anticipated, one that would challenge my marriage and possibly tear the life I've worked so hard to build.
I took a deep breath and looked at my family, I gathered the strength to start my day and if possible embrace the unknown. Little did I know that just around the corner, a chance encounter was waiting for me, an invitation to explore the depths of passion, fetishes and betrayal.
I Finished my coffee, checked the time and realized it was time to head downtown for my meeting with our family accountant. I was far from knowing that I was about to discover the consequences that accompanied the pursuit of forbidden desires.
I won't hide that I loved high heels and with each step from the house to my car, the sharp click of my 4 inch heels against the pavement resonated in the quiet morning air. I was nervous that morning and my heart was racing, a mix of excitement and trepidation. I gracefully slid into the driver's seat of my red Tesla model X, the leather interior embraced me, and I turned on the quiet engine, ready to navigate the busy downtown streets.
As I drove into the city, skyscrapers cast long shadows in the streets ahead. My favourite podcast played in its extraordinary sound system. With 22 speakers, the conversations literally enveloped me. I navigated with my eyes looking for a safe parking spot ensuring my beloved vehicle remained free from any unsightly scratches or dings.
I drove the car into the coveted spot, exhaling a sigh of relief. Turning off the ignition, I sat there for a moment, with one hand on my pantyhose covered legs. The combination of heels and pantyhose gave me a sense of elegance and grace while my stilettos elevated my confidence and sophistication. My long fingers caressed along my pantyhose that embraced my legs, making me feel sexy and almost irresistible.
Wearing pantyhose and high heels, I carried a secret message, whispering seductively with every movement, inviting admiring glances and admiration. At that moment I felt that nothing else on my legs could ever give me that sensation.
I was so wrong.
On the other hand, the realization of the choices I was willing to make, the risks I was willing to take, intensified with each passing day. The equation was simple, the liberation and fulfillment equalled a price I was ready to pay but that I was yet to fully understand.
I gazed into the mirror and reapplied my red lipstick then stepped out of the car, the click of my heels echoing on the streets. The sun's rays caressed my skin and looking back I had really missed dressing up like this. The subtle click of my heels, my leather skirt against my curves, and the feeling of confidence only limited by the poor quality of the sidewalk. I navigated with care, ensuring not to fall and risk an unfortunate ankle sprain or even worse a fracture.
As the summer breeze gently rustled through my hair, I walked along the busy streets downtown full of businessmen and women. The vibrant energy of the city was contagious, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of liberation.
While lost in my thoughts, I collided with a woman walking quietly in the opposite direction, causing me to lose my footing for a brief moment. My left ankle twisted painfully, and I let out an involuntary "ouch" as a sharp jolt shot through my leg.
"Are you okay, miss?" she asked me, as she extended a helping hand.
I winced, bending my knee to rub my throbbing ankle.
"I'm fine, so sorry. I wasn't looking," I replied, a tinge of embarrassment in my voice.
With a gentle smile, she reassured me, "Let me help you to the café where you can rest your ankle."
Grateful for her kindness, I accepted her offer, placing my hand in hers for support. As we slowly made our way to the café, she explained that she had to leave, as she was due in court in just 15 minutes. I thanked her for her help and apologized again for the unexpected collision.
This was a beautiful little café, I didn't remember seeing it before, tucked-away. Aroma of freshly ground coffee was so inviting that I forgot all about my ankle for a minute. Later on after sipping my coffee, I noticed him at a nearby table, his gaze lingering on my long legs and then my fingers as I rubbed my injured ankle.
A shiver ran down my spine as our eyes met, a connection for sure and followed by a hint of intrigue. His gaze was both intense and curious, as if he were trying to understand the story behind my injured ankle.
Part 2 to come