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Claire and the Boys Next Door [updated] (Fanfic) P1
Tue Jan 9, 2018 19:06

Claire, the character created by janscoM, speaks to me on many levels. She is one of the closest characters to myself that Ive ever read. I identify with her on many levels, and so I was inspired to write the fan fiction that I posted Sunday. Since then, I have been obsessing. I kept lying awake at night, thinking of how else it could have gone. What else she could have done. What other things Tom may have asked for. I modified it so many times while I should have been doing other things at work. Ive been a bad employee so far this week.

This is revision 5. I think Im done obsessing. There are more chapters I could write I really like Claire but shes not my character to play with. To janscoM, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for creating Claire, and I thank you for allowing me to play with her this once. Please write about her some more, and dont let her story end too soon. She has so much potential.

For everyone else, Im sorry if this is redundant of the first post. In Word, the first version of my story was six pages. Revision 5, being posted now, is 20 pages. The story is similar, but hopefully you find the differences worth the extra reading time.



Friday night, Tom text messaged me and asked if 3:00 would be okay for me to come around to his house. His parents would be out until late, and we would be undisturbed. I was a little apprehensive to be alone with him, but my desire to see what he had in mind was winning out. Plus, I knew that I could trust him he was always very respectful, and much more so than Jim. I tried to get him to hint at what his plans for me were, but he gave nothing away. I even asked if I should wear anything special, and he told me that anything was fine, but to please bring back the maids' outfit.

The next day I was at loose ends, waiting for 3:00 to come, my mood changing from nervous excitement to second guessing. There was a very real part of me that wanted to txt him and call it off, and go to the mall or the movies. But I knew that part of me wouldn't really win that I would arrive at his door and learn what Tom, the shyest of my opportunists, had in store for me. Just like my mood, the time vacillated as it ticked toward the appointed time. It passed at snail's pace, each tick of the hallway clock echoing into an improbably long silence before the corresponding tock finally came. Then, suddenly, an hour would jump by unnoticed, so that I was double checking against my phone clock to ensure I hadn't misread the hands. Back and forth, the passage of time shifted, teasing and taunting me with its uneven passage, until, suddenly, it was 2:30 and I hadn't decided what to wear yet. I sprinted up the stairs, and quickly selected a sexier pair of pink silky nylon panties and matching bra. The bra cups were fine eyelet lace pattered, which allowed a hint of skin to peek through, so that the transition from my breasts to nipples could be discerned as the smallest suggestion of color change. The panties were a tanga back (not quite as small as a thong, but not the full coverage of a brief or standard bikini), with the same lace pattern in the front, presenting the dark outline of my pubic hair with shape and size, but not graphically displaying anything.

I stood in indecision then. He had said not to worry about what I wore, but I still wanted to look good, without looking overeager. I didn't want to arrive in the frumpy sweats I'd pulled on after my shower, but also didn't think that a sundress and heels would be appropriate. Finally, I decided on sporty-cute, and selected a pair of powder-blue short nylon running shorts and a graphic t-shirt, white, with a superhero's emblem across the front. I should probably have known the name of the hero, but I'd honestly bought the shirt because I knew that geeky girls were considered hotter, and it fit me wonderfully. The shirt was tight without appearing overly so, and the bottom hem stopped just barely above the top of my shorts, so that my bare midriff would be exposed with almost any movement on my part.

Completing the desired look, I pulled my hair quickly into a high pony and freshened my makeup, what little I was wearing. Satisfied with my face and hair, I grabbed a pair of no-show socks, and donned my running shoes.

I had ten minutes, which was just about perfect, so tossing my phone into the larger purse into which I'd earlier neatly folded and placed the maid's outfit, I let myself out the front door. Only on the short walk to Tom's house did the butterflies return. As I'd stressed about my appearance, the gravity of where I was going and why had momentarily escaped me. Now, as I walked up Tom's driveway, I got that recently-all-too-familiar feeling in the pit of my stomach as I considered the fact that I was voluntarily walking to the home of a boy who would soon be asking me to dress in what would likely be provocative, revealing clothes or less because I "owe" him for letting me borrow such an outfit that I wore and removed for another man. The absurdity of this would have made me laugh, had my desire to show myself to Tom or more accurately have Tom want to see me not been so strong.

The doorbell chimed twice, bing-bong, and the door opened immediately, as though he'd been watching me come up the walk.

"Come on in," he said cheerfully. He was rather sloppily dressed, wearing a dark blue, plain t-shirt and long grey basketball shorts, along with a pair of mid-calf socks. I was glad I hadn't dressed differently.

Feeling the butterflies taking wing anew in my belly, I stepped across the threshold as he closed the door behind me.

"I love the flash!" he enthused, his eyes breaking contact with mine to travel down my body.

It took me a moment to figure out what he was saying. My brain was caught up in why I was there, and so "flash" took on a different meaning. I felt my face flush at the same time that I remembered the name of the superhero whose emblem was stretched across my chest.

"Cute shorts, too," he mused, as his eyes passed down my body and started gliding back up.

I wasn't sure what to say, and didn't know what his expectation was, but my brain was still almost entirely focused on different scenarios that might come to pass. I wondered if he would want me to dress in the maid's outfit, which made me remember my handbag. "I didn't forget," I mumbled, pulling the costume out and thrusting it awkwardly at him. A single stocking dropped to the floor as he stared at me, confused, for the briefest moment.

"Thanks," he smiled, taking the bundle from my outstretched hand as I bent to retrieve the fallen item.

"My parents don't really allow shoes in the house," he said, eyeing my feet meaningfully before turning on his heel and walking down the hallway. I hastily kicked off my shoes, stuffed my little socks into each, dropped my purse on top of them, and trotted after him, my bare feet slapping lightly on the tile floor. When I rounded the corner, he was standing in the kitchen, leaning against a counter with the table to his right. Straight in front of him was the family room, with a sofa and two chairs facing the empty fireplace, the television mounted to the wall above it. Looking around, I spotted the pile of fabric that was the maid's dress, and placed the loose stocking in my hand on top.

"Thanks for coming," he said, smiling shyly.

"I said I would," I replied, still unsure of what I should do or say.

"I know. But thanks all the same," he shrugged.

I slowly started to realize that he was as nervous as I was, although for different reasons.

"What did you have in mind for today?" I asked coyly, not wanting to rush things, but curious all the same. "I didn't even ask earlier how long I'd be here."

"Oh," he replied thoughtfully. "I hadn't thought of that. Do you have plans?"

He was such a gentleman. Jim would not have cared. Or at least not much. He would have let me go, of course, but he would have made me feel guilty. I got the impression that, had I told him I only had ten minutes, he would have been disappointed, but would have hidden his frustration from me and let me go cheerfully.

"No plans," I replied. "I guess I'll want dinner at some point..." I trailed off, shrugging slightly.

"I hadn't thought," he replied. "You'll be home for dinner. Unless you wanted to hang out..." He added, hopefully, it sounded.

"We'll see later, I guess."

We both stood uncertainly for a moment before he broke the silence. "I don't really know how to start."

"Well," I replied hesitantly, "I guess I owe you a favor, and you wanted to collect. Why don't you tell me what you want?"

"Um..." He said, flushing slightly and breaking eye contact, staring at my bare feet. "I was thinking I wanted to do something... different from when it's me and Jim," he replied.

"Different how?" I asked. I tried to keep my voice light, but I was a little nervous. I didn't want to have to fend off the wrong kind of attention, but I also didn't want to discourage him from his plans if they were innocent.

"Well, I guess I wanted to... kind of... really study you, if that's okay?" He turned it into a question at the end, which I found kind of endearing.

"Are you asking me, or telling me?" I asked, a little more confident, so teasing him now.

He paused for a moment, perhaps taken aback at my directness. "Telling?" He replied, the question obvious in his voice.

"I owe you a favor. You asked me to come over so you could collect," I said, bringing things back on track. "If you want me to do something, just tell me what to do." I kept my tone light.

Tom smiled then, catching on. I had always wanted to be told not asked to do things, and I could see him making that connection in his head.

"I feel like I've gotten to see your body pretty well, mostly" he replied, blushing furiously, but maintaining eye contact. "From a distance, anyway. But today I wanted to... I mean I am going to... if it's okay... I wanted to really look at you. Close up. And stuff," he said, losing steam at the end.

"Oh," I replied. I almost said "okay," but I was working not to seem like I was enjoying myself too much. "Why didn't you want Jim here?" I asked, the question popping from my mouth as it entered my head.

"He tends to want things to progress... differently," Tom replied thoughtfully. "I have, well, my ideas, but he kind of pushes things his way"

I smiled in response to his openness. He was being very honest with me, and it was enjoyable to see him in this new light, away from Jim's influence. He was actually much sweeter than I'd thought.

"Would you like to come into the family room?" he asked.

"Is that what you want me to do?"

"Please, join me in the family room," he corrected himself, gesturing for me to walk with him. "Did the maid's outfit look as good on you as I'm guessing it did?"

I had guessed that if he cared what anything looked like on me, he'd have me model it for him, so I was a little surprised by the question, but strove for an honest answer in return for his previous candor. "I suppose you would think so. It was really tight, and really short," I grinned.

He smiled as he sat on one of the chairs. He reached out tentatively, touching my bare leg. I wasn't expecting it, and I started just a bit. "Is this okay?" he asked.

I grinned down at him. "I won't let you do anything that makes me too uncomfortable. If you need me to move at all, just tell me.

As he slowly ran his hands up and down my leg, he kneaded my calf muscles lightly, and then squeezed my quadricep and hamstring muscles. After a few times up and down, he put both hands on my waist and pulled me around, so now my butt was a few inches from his face. After a moment, he resumed his exploration, this time on my other leg. Again, he seemed satisfied after three times up and down my leg, ankle to mid-thigh, when he cleared his throat. He guided me by the hips and turned me to face him again, and absently continued stroking, one hand on each leg. I looked down at him, and he was blushing again.

"I was going to have you put on the bikini again," he announced, "so I could, um... you know. Better."

"Would you like me to go change?" I asked.

"Is your, um, I mean... what kind of underwear do you have?"

"Normal underwear?" I replied after a short pause. I wasnt sure exactly how to answer. Did he want color? Material? A moment too late I realized he probably wanted to know how skimpy they were.

He stopped caressing my legs, and sat a little straighter. "Um... okay, so I'm, um... I'm going to take your shorts off and, um... I'll look and decide if you should change." He said, fumbling, but trying to sound assertive. "Okay?"

In response, I stood straighter and pulled my legs a little closer so that the shorts would slide down more easily.

Tom was obviously unpracticed, and without preamble or warning, he slid his fingers into the waist band and pulled. I felt my butt jiggle slightly as it was pressed, then released as the fabric descended rapidly and pooled at my feet.

"Wow," he said, his eyes glued to the small area of my body covered by the panties. I felt the familiar sensation of butterflies in my stomach as he stared, knowing he was seeing the tiny, short hairs protruding from the small holes in the lace. He stared, almost mesmerized, for a long moment. Then he took my waist and once again turned my body so that my half-covered butt was facing him. In the process, I shuffled my feet out of my discarded shorts, half standing on them. Just as before, he let his fingers explore my legs. still, he allowed himself to trail all the way down to my feet, but now his focus was higher, on my thighs and butt, going as high as my hips and the bottom hem of my t-shirt. Occasionally, he would squeeze one or the other cheek, and even lightly slapped me, then paused to watch my body jiggle. A few times I could feel his fingers slipping under the loose edge of my panty, touching more of my backside. After another minute or so, he turned me around again, resuming his study of my legs and hips. His eyes were focused between my legs as his hands caressed the skin fractions of millimeters away from my brief, sheer panties.

    • Story ContextAnonymous, Wed Jan 17 11:17
      Is it a CFNM story centered on male humiliation?
      • Contextcheryl, Wed Jan 17 11:25
        No, it's consentual CMNF.
        • Re: ContextAnonymous, Thu Jan 18 05:07
          A consensual always makes a worthless and good for nothing. Never get it why CMNF are consensual?
          • Re: Contextjay, Sat Jan 20 09:04
            Non consensual stories are focused on opposite gender sexual humiliation. I don think there are any non consensual CMNF stories centered on female humiliation. As, CFNM stories are focused on very... more
            • re:Contextcheryl, Sun Jan 28 12:28
              While I respect your opinions on different genres, I do have to disagree about my stories. You wrote: Even Cheryl's CFNM stories are based on very strong underage male sexual humiliation (skinnydip... more
          • Re: Re: Contextgio2u, Fri Jan 19 21:41
            Anonymous, Ever heard the saying, "To each his/her own"? If you're a regular on IndianOutlaw's Stripping Naked Story Board then you should know that there are all kinds of stories for all kinds of... more
    • When it seemed he was satisfied for the moment, he left one hand resting on my hip and sat up higher, looking around as though searching for something. He steered me gently backwards a step, then... more
      • He looked closely at the panty, in front and from behind while I held the skirt up and out of his view, and then took my hand and led me back downstairs to the family room. There he had me sit... more
        • He had obviously set up a playlist on his phone, because the song ended and another one started immediately. "Get into it! he enthused. Up the intensity!" He was enjoying the show, and the feeling... more
          • He took me by the hand and dragged me into the family room. I was giggling and tugging back in mock protest, so he stopped, spun me around, and swatted my butt rather harder than he had all day. I... more
            • Fantastic rewrite!Das, Wed Jan 10 08:47
              I love the changes you made! It will make me very sad if you don't write more Claire fanfic!
              • Thanks so muchcheryl, Wed Jan 10 09:00
                Thank you so much for the kind words! I really do love Claire, and I already have ideas spinning around in my head. I do worry about taking her too far from jas's plans for her. Fan fiction should... more
                • Re: Thanks so muchjanscoM, Thu Jan 11 18:58
                  Permission granted, not that you really need it - I post my stories freely to the internet with the full understanding that might bring anything :) It's true your take is not mine, but it obviously... more
                  • Re: Thanks so muchcheryl, Mon Jan 15 11:14
                    janscoM, Thanks for granting permission! I agree with everything Hooked6 said. I thank you for being so gracious, and while I agree that there's little you could do if I did post a story using your... more
                  • You are a very gracious personHooked6, Fri Jan 12 04:59
                    Jansco, I admire your writing and creativity and have enjoyed your Claire story immensely but this last post of yours highlights a lot of what is missing in this world - people who are gracious and... more
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