William and Penelope…Continued

Extra content for Penelope’s Paths

Four months later…

“Well, I’m going to turn in,” my mother says, standing and stretching. “It was wonderful to meet you William.” 

Mom arrived yesterday for my birthday. It’s been nice seeing her again. I haven’t seen her since Christmas, the job with the Clarke’s house commanding all of my weekends so I haven’t been able to go back to Iowa for a visit. 

“The pleasure was all mine,” William says, hugging my mom. The two had definitely hit it off over dinner. 

Seeing that Mom’s a little unstable on her feet, understandable with the two glasses of wine she had at dinner since she doesn’t normally drink at all at home, I offer to help her upstairs.

We’re not even halfway up when mom leans over and whispers, “He’s quite easy on the eyes. And that accent…with that voice of his?” 

“Yes, yes, Mom.” There’s no point in arguing with her. She’s right. 

“But what I like best,” Mom continues, “is the sparkle he puts in your eye.” She cups my face and looks at me lovingly. 

A grin breaks out on my face because I know exactly what she’s talking about. I’ve seen that sparkle since singing that first contract almost four months ago. Not sure if it’s the constant state of arousal William seems to have instilled in me, or if it’s that every time William has challenged me, and every time I rise to that challenge, I feel like I have regained another piece of the puzzle that makes up my soul. And yes, we’ve only been together for fifteen weeks, but I feel more myself than I ever have.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so happy and at peace.”

“I’m pretty happy.” Mom kisses my cheek and I wish her a good night, then I head back down to the kitchen. 

I almost burst out laughing when I find William wearing my pink dish gloves—how he stuffed his large hands inside the gloves that are snug on me is a mystery—and washing the pots and pans.

“Exploring your submissive side?” I ask, whispered so my mother couldn’t possibly hear but the humor clear in my voice. 

A few weeks ago, we engaged in a little role playing, William having me dress up as a French Maid wearing sky high heels. I flitted about dusting this, and scrubbing that. Sometimes he’d have me on a stepladder so he could get an unrestricted view of my derrière on display, not only because of the barely there skirt but also the costume’s ‘panty’ was just a G-string. At one point, he had on my hands and knees scrubbing an imaginary spill. My breasts were spilling out over the top of the impossibly low-cut neckline.

Oui, mademoiselle,” he says, the humor reflected right back. 

“I can take over,” I say, stepping up to the sink.

“No. I’ve got this. You go upstairs. There’s a present for you on the bed.”

He’s using The Tone. The Take off your panties tone. A rush of adrenaline and hormones courses through me and, as if on command, I know I’m already getting wet. “What’s upstairs?” I ask, nerves replacing the sexual arousal that had been rushing through every nerve-ending in my body.

“You’ll see. And you’ll know what to do.”

Oui, monsieur,” I say, my heart thundering in my ears.

“That’s a good girl. I’ll be up shortly.”

I nod, and on wobbly legs, head up to my bedroom. A glance down the hall confirms my mother is in the bathroom, still getting ready for bed, and I can’t believe I’m just following William’s orders. Then again, I’ve always seemed to be unable to do anything but do as William asks of me, so I shouldn’t be surprised. 

Quietly, I sneak into my room and close the door as quietly as possible. I turn on only the small lamp on my night-stand and on my bed I see a pink garment bag.

With a trembling hand, I reach for the zipper, wondering when William had slipped up here and put this bag on my bed. And even more curious as to what in the world could be inside.
I pull the zipper down the front and pull the sides open. Suddenly, I have no other thoughts in my head but one as sexual desire coils tightly in my belly.


Inside the bag is a cheerleader uniform. A white and blue vest with a large blue W on the front. The skirt is blue with white kick pleats. And there’s a pair of simple white cotton panties and matching bra. 

And my mother, still very much awake, is right down the hall. 

I know exactly what William has in mind and I can’t help the naughty excitement of living out the fantasy I’d entertained so many years ago. But can I actually go through with it? All the sexual challenges I’ve faced until now have been done without audience or fear of getting caught. The walls of William’s condo no where near neighbors, thankfully, so no neighbors could hear the sounds William had been able to coax from me as he’s me the most intense orgasms I never thought possible. I’ve become quite accustomed to making noises for William. He loves them and it feels so good to just let loose. But now, I’ll have to be quiet.

I hear the water turn off down in the kitchen and make quick work of putting on the uniform. Getting into the ‘spirit’ of things, I dash into my bathroom and put my hair in a pair of pigtails. Traditionally, I’d wear a high pony with a gigantic bow accenting the uniform, but I think William will get a kick out of the pigtails…something to hold on to. 

The unmistakable sound of my bedroom door opening and closing comes from the room and my belly is full of butterflies, yet I’m certain I’ve already soaked the cotton panties with my desire. With a last look in the mirror, I pull open the bathroom door. 

“Hi, Captain,” I say when I see William has done his part by donning a letterman sweater. 

As his eyes sweep up and down my figure, he bites his lower lip. “God, you’re fucking hot,” he says, his voice gravelly and thick with arousal, his British accent thicker, dirtier. 

Slipping right into the role, I act all innocent and wide-eyed, placing a finger in front of my lips. “Shhh,” I whisper. “We can’t wake up my mother.”

I can’t believe I’m doing this!

He nods and winks. 

“You know,” he whispers as I saunter up to him. “I was watching you up on the top of the pyramid. Seeing your panties made me so hot.”

“These panties?” I ask coyly and turn, flipping the back of my skirt up and showing him my white cotton clad rear end. 

“Oh fuck,” William groans, his voice barely a whisper and pray that it was quiet enough to not be heard. He grabs a pig tail and gently pulls my head to his ear. “Ever since I read your fantasy, I’ve imagined this. Reality is so much better than imagination.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” I tell him.

His other hand reaches for my breast and he easily palms my modest mound. “I love your breasts. They’re the perfect size.” 

His mouth crashes to mine and I’m a goner. He slips a hand under my vest and finds my nipple under the basic white bra he’d supplied with my costume. 

He dances us to my bed and then steps back. Like the hurried teen he’s portraying, he tears his clothes off, and I start to do the same. And as per that script, one he must have studied before coming over, stops me when my hands reach for the waistband of my skirt. “Leave the skirt on, but take off the panties.” 

My heart skips a beat at the memory of the first time I took off my panties for him, and I quickly do as I’m told. 

He takes the white cotton and gives them a sniff before tossing them on top of the pile of his clothes, then pushes me down onto the bed. “I want to fuck you,” he mutters, his lips skating over my body as he hovers over me. “Have you had sex before?” 

“N—nno,” I answer, as innocently as I can, lust heating me. “I—I’m a virgin,” I tell him. 

“I’ll be gentle,” he says. “Now, grab onto your headboard,” he says. “I can’t have scratch marks all over my back or I’ll have to tell the team who gave the marks to me and the whole team will want a part of you,” he cautions, rubbing his cotton covered cock on my thigh and reaching a hand between my legs, sliding a finger through my folds and down toward my ass. “Especially the quarterback.” 

The deviation from the script has my body crying out for more as I reach for the headboard. William has often talked about adding a third to our activities. He wants to watch me with another guy. He wants to take me with the other guy. We have yet to do the back door stuff. William brought it up at the last contract negotiation and I know it will be in the next. Right now, I’m about to agree to all of it. Good thing William is caring enough to not run contract negotiations in the middle of sex. 

William sits up on his knees and shoves his shorts down, letting his cock spring free. Foregoing the condom, something we agreed upon with the second contract—me going on the pill and since neither of us had been with anyone in nearly a year, we simply shared our medical records. 

In one swift thrust, I’m impaled on William’s glorious manhood and I can’t help the gasp and groan that escapes my mouth. William quickly clamps a hand over my mouth to keep the noise down. “Can’t let Mommy hear.”

God, he’s so right! 

The very real thought of getting caught, William keeping his own moans and filthy talk I’ve come to love at bay, with him silencing me the way he is, thrusting inside of me the way he is, fulfilling my fantasy from so long ago the way he is, it doesn’t take long. 

Reading me like a book, he rolls his hips in away that rubs on my clit and I’m coming undone. 
William comes right after I do and he collapses over me, a sweaty, virile man. His own moans controlled. Restrained. Beautiful.

“You are so. Fucking. Incredible,” he growls into my ear.

“In your hands, I must agree.” 

I feel his cock swell and twitch inside of me at my words. I love how easy it is to read William.

“What other fantasies do you have that I can fulfill?” he asks, almost desperately.

​There were a few dancing in my thoughts…But do I dare confess?

Should Penelope tell William? And what exactly what thoughts are dancing in Penelope’s mind?  Do you want me to write it? Email me and tell me! ​