Under Surveillance

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Lady plays games with an unseen watcher.
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Rikki
Rikki
20 Followers

When Megan Peters opened her mailbox that morning she found a single letter; a plain white envelope with her name typed on the front, a central city postmark and no return address. Walking inside to her kitchen she sat down with a cup of coffee and opened the letter. Once she began reading she forgot all about the coffee.

'Dear Mrs. Peters,' it began. 'This letter is in the form of an offer which you may like to accept. I wish to propose a game, which you may or may not like to take part in. Please be assured that no harm will come to you and no contact will be made with you other than by mail.

'The game I propose is this. I will send you an instruction which you will follow. Once again, I must stress that no harm will come to you. The things I will ask you to do will involve no risk. You can stop any time simply by ignoring an instruction, If you do this no new message will be sent and the matter will end there. I hope this will not be the case as I think you will enjoy the game immensely.

'Your first instruction will be to indicate whether you wish to continue. In order to do this I would like you to walk out into your backyard at two o'clock this afternoon wearing something you wouldn't normally wear at that time of day. Perhaps a nightgown would be suitable. I look forward to your walk in the garden.' It was signed 'the Watcher.'

The letter ended there and Megan's first impulse was to screw it up and throw it in the bin. Then as she thought a little more her frown was replaced by a smile. 'Why not,' she thought, 'it might be fun,' and there had been precious little fun in Megan's life since her husband died suddenly five years ago. Now in her mid-fifties she lived a rather lonely life.

Contenting herself with various household chores she occupied her time until shortly before two when she walked upstairs, her mind made up to go ahead, ridiculous as it seemed. But perhaps that was part of the attraction.

In her bedroom she undressed down to her bra and panties, and looked in the mirror. What she saw didn't fill her with enthusiasm. Her massive breasts were encased in an enormous white bra, while matching cotton panties covered her ample hips and bottom. Way too much flesh for her five foot six frame, she thought, but that's the way it is. Megan walked over to her drawer and pulled out an old flannel nightgown. She was about to put it on when she stopped. The letter had said something you normally wouldn't wear at that time. 'Well, I'd normally wear my bra and panties,' she said to herself. Then she grinned and shrugged. Why not. Putting the nightie down she reached behind and unhooked her bra. Without its support her breasts sagged a lot and, unfettered, they hung down nearly to her waist. Then she slipped off the panties. She looked at her herself in the mirror. It was definitely her breasts which dominated. Her husband used to disparagingly refer to them as her 'udders,' and tell her that she should be hooked up to a miking machine like all good cows. The comments hurt, but he seemed to like grabbing hold of them whenever he could.

When she pulled on the nightie it came to just below her knees, and it was obvious she had nothing on underneath it. The outline of her breasts showed clearly and they jiggled as she walked. The fabric of the nightie rubbed against her nipples, making them harden and push against the fabric. Her bown shoulder-length hair had been ruffled by the changes of clothing, so she gave it a few strokes with a brush to settle it down.

Megan wandered around the house for a few minutes, her pulse racing, then when the kitchen clock struck two she took a deep breath and walked out the back door onto the concrete decking. The garden was not large, but it was secluded, with large trees growing around it. No one could see in, but if Megan had looked closely she may just have spotted a small camera and microphone hidden in one of the trees, its lens focused on the decking. She was vaguely aware that some such thing must have existed, because how else would the Watcher know what she had done. While Megan may have suspected she chose not to worry. She walked around the decking, then down onto the lawn. She found the afternoon sun pleasant, also the way the nightie rubbed against her flesh.

She had planned to make only a quick appearance, but she was enjoying the walk and found the idea that someone was watching more than a little arousing. Megan strolled around the garden, even stopping to pull a weed or two, then she sat on a deckchair soaking up the afternoon sun. 'Might as well give him value for money,' she thought, and she only returned to the house when the sun dipped below the trees.

After spending the rest of the day in the nightie, she changed it only, and almost reluctantly, for a clean one at bedtime. That night she did something that she hadn't done for years, using her fingers to bring herself to a shuddering climax.

After that first experience Megan waited anxiously for the next letter. It arrived two days later and she almost raced inside to open it.

'Dear Megan,

'I must thank you for consenting to take part in this little game. I had hoped you would. Thank you also for putting on such an impressive show. I thought you might just walk out and then back in, but the time you stayed out makes me very grateful. I noticed that you have very large breasts, and I certainly enjoyed watching them move around under that nightie. Please do not be embarrassed. I love big breasts, especially ones which sag a lot as yours seem to do.

'As you liked sitting in the sun I would like you to do some more, perhaps this time with a little less covering. if you have a bathing suit you can wear that, if not put on some underwear, come outside and do some sunbathing. I look forward to seeing you.'

As Megan had not owned a bathing suit for years she had to settle for the second option. Shortly after lunch she stripped down to her bra and panties, applied some sunscreen to her ample frame and walked outside. The sun was warm and again she followed her previous day's outing by walking around the garden before settling down in a deck chair for a couple of pleasant hours, interrupted only by a trip to the toilet. Once again her arousal had to be satisfied that night.

Two days later there was another letter.

'Dear Megan,

'Thank you once again for such a pleasant afternoon. I must say that I was a little disappointed with two things. First, your bra tended to cover far too much of those gorgeous breasts, and second, that you went inside, presumably to visit the toilet. So, I would like to see more of those boobs and I have no objection, in fact, I would welcome the opportunity, to observe you releasing your bladder.'

Megan felt disappointed that her show was not so well received. While she could understand the watcher's desire to see more of her breasts she was stunned that he would want to watch her pee. Still - and it might not happen anyway, but for the rest of the morning she helped things along by drinking plenty of water.

She walked out onto the decking that afternoon wearing beige pants and a matching three-quarter length cardigan, underneath which she was naked. As she moved her tits wobbled under the cardigan as if they had a life of their own. Megan walked around the garden building up her courage for what she planned to do next.

Then with a deep breath she made the decision. Standing on the decking and facing the trees she slowly unbuttoned the cardigan. As she undid the last button, she took another deep breath and held the cardigan wide open. After what seemed an age, but was really only a few seconds she sat down in the deckchair leaving the cardigan hanging open and her breasts dangling down.

After a short while Megan made another decision. When the moment came, and with all the fluid she'd taken in, she knew it would, she would not go inside, but would give the Watcher what he asked for. Just the thought made her face glow with shame. However, another, more personal part of her became highly aroused at what she was going to do.

An hour later the pressure in her bladder had built to such an extent that she could no longer ignore it. Megan began squirming in her seat and pressing her legs together. That stalled things for a while, but when, in spite of her best efforts, she released a squirt of urine, she realised the time had come.

Megan stood up and noticed the small, damp patch in the crotch of her pants. Putting a hand on the table beside the chair in order to steady herself she squatted. If she felt foolish, squatting there, leaning forward with her breasts hanging down, the nipples resting on her thighs, she never worried about it. At first when she tried to release the contents of her bladder nothing happened. Then she relaxed, a few drops squirted which rapidly became a flood. Her pants were saturated as the warm piss soaked through the fabric and pooled on the decking.

When the flow finally ceased, Megan stood and looked down. Her pants were a mess with dark stains covering the front and back and running down the legs. Megan almost fell back into the deckchair and without conscious thought her hand went straight to her groin, massaging her pussy furiously through the wet fabric. She continued as climax after climax charged through her body. Later, as she stood under the shower she found it hard to believe what she'd done. The confirmation came two days later.

'Dear Megan,

'I will remain eternally grateful for what you did. It was far ahead of anything I imagined. What a glorious sight it was when unbuttoned your cardigan and showed me those wonderful tits. The rest I can't begin to describe except to say that it was one of the most erotic things I have ever seen.

'After what you have done I am not sure what else I can ask of you. Perhaps I should just let you use your imagination?

'However, there is one more thing I would ask. Again, if you do not wish to do this I will understand. What I would like is for you to tell a friend about me. If you do, perhaps both of you could come out into the backyard and let me know.'

Megan thought for a while. How could she explain this to anyone? Was there anyone who would understand? Yes, there might be one person. Her best friend, Amy Thomas might, but could she work up the nerve to tell her? Amy was two years younger than Megan, and a widow, too. Her husband had died in a car crash, unlike Megan's who had suffered a sudden and terminal heart attack. The loss of their husbands only a few months apart had drawn the pair together. They might regularly and Amy's visits were the onll bright spots in Megan's life.

Later that evening she called Amy and invited her for lunch the next day. She would decide what to do then.

Amy arrived promptly at eleven. She was a couple of inches taller than Megan, and much slimmer. Although her breasts were not as large as Megan's, they were big enough and stood out on her slim frame. She was an attractive woman in her mid-fifties, with her gray hair drawn back into a ponytail. While they were eating lunch Megan decided that she would reveal what happened a step at a time, and see where it went. As they were eating Megan passed the first letter across the table and, as Amy read it her eyes widened, 'Goodness, Megan! What did you do?'

'I'm not sure you'll believe this.'

'You don't mean you...'

Megan nodded, blushing scarlet. Then she told her friend about wearing the nightie. She handed over the second letter. Amy read it, 'And did you?'

'Yes,' said Megan quietly, 'I didn't have a swimsuit so I wore my bra and panties. Here's the next letter.'

'Don't tell me...'

Megan nodded again and then told her about what she was wearing and what she did. After she finished she bowed her head. 'I guess you'll think I'm some sort of perverted old woman who you'll never want to talk to again.' She felt tears welling in her eyes.

Amy saw her friend's distress and reached across the table to take her hand. 'Oh, you silly thing, she said, 'you're my best friend. I'll always want to talk to you. Now why are you telling me all this? Did he ask you to?' Megan nodded and slid over the fourth letter.

When Amy read it, it was her turn to blush. 'Goodness,' she said, what are we going to do?'

Megan looked up. 'I decided to tell you, but it's up to you what happens next. We can have a pleasant afternoon and then you can go home, or you can walk out the back with me, but you might think that's too weird.'

Amy smiled, 'I'll be happy to walk out the back with you. My life needs some excitement'

'Really?' Megan couldn't believe her ears.

'Of course, silly. Now if two ladies are going out they should give some consideration to what they wear.'

Megan's head was in a spin. Here was her friend calmly talking about becoming involved in her games. 'I didn't think we'd have to wear anything special at all,' she replied.

'Oh, come on,' Amy chided. 'That's not much fun. If you've done all those things on your own the least I can do is join you.'

Megan was shocked, 'Amy I can't ask you to do any of that stuff.'

Amy was firm, 'Well I want to and that's all there is to it. Now you may have to lend me something suitable. This dress won't do at all,' she said, indicating her light summer dress.

Megan could hardly speak. She walked around the table and gave her friend a hug. 'You're the best,' she whispered.

'Come on,' said Amy with a grin. 'Let's have some fun.'

The two women spent some time deciding just what to wear. Amy rejected most of Megan's suggestions as being too conservative and as they discussed the issue Megan became more impressed with her friend's acceptance of the whole situation. Finally, they decided on two three-quarter length cardigans. Megan again wore the beige one, while Amy chose a dark blue one. This time there would be no matching pants, and nothing else was to be worn.

At precisely two o'clock the pair held hands and walked outside. They moved slowly around the garden, stopping to chat and admire the plants. It all seemed quite normal if they could ignore what they were wearing. Megan looked at Amy, 'Ready?' she asked. Amy swallowed and nodded. Together they walked onto the decking and faced the trees. Then, slowly, both of them undid the buttons on their cardigans and held them open to expose, not just their breasts, but the rest of their bodies as well.

After holding the pose the women bowed and laughed, then they sat back in the deckchairs not bothering to cover themselves. Amy looked at her friendf, 'I can't believe we are doing this,' she said, 'but I've got to say I'm quite enjoying it.''

'I'm so glad,' Megan replied, 'I really thought you'd laugh at me, or just think I was weird and never speak to me again.'

'Oh, you silly thing. I'm not the stuffy old square you might think.'

'No, you're not, and I love you for it.' They spoke of more mundane matters for some time until Megan said, ' Ah, Amy I think I need to visit the ladies.'

Amy grinned, 'Why? You did it here before, and I'd like to see.'

Megan was shocked, 'You mean you want to watch me pee, here, in front of you?'

'Is there a problem,' her friend asked innocently.

'Well, no. I thought you'd think it was dirty.'

Amy laughed, 'Of course it's dirty, but I think it's fun too.'

'Okay then, what do you want me to do?'

'How about you come and squat over here,' Amy pointed to the space in front of her chair.

'Alright, but you might have to help me.' Megan stood and walked over to the spot, then she squatted down. Amy moved behind her friend and supported her by holding her under the arms. Strangely, considering the situation, Megan was able to relax her bladder and in seconds was spurting a torrent of urine which pooled at her feet. As the stream started to slow, she felt another, more serious urge. 'Amy,' she gasped, I think I'm going to poop myself.'

She started to rise, but her friend hugged her a little tighter and said, 'Don't worry honey. You just let it out. I'll clean it up after you.' With those words Megan sighed and gave up fighting the urges of her body. She pushed down and a large turd dropped onto the decking, followed by two smaller ones. As she was producing the last of these she felt her breasts squeezed and a dampness through the back of her cardigan. 'Sorry, honey,' whispered Amy,'but I couldn't hold it.'

It's okay,' replied Megan, 'it feels nice and warm.'

When she had finished Amy helped her friend up and to her seat. Then she used a plastic bag to dispose of the poop. When she returned to the decking she saw that Megan was lying back in the chair, legs wide apart and with her fingers buried in her slit. Amy moaned, then collapsed into her chair to satisfy her own urges. When they had both finished, the two ladies looked at each other and smiled. 'That,' said Amy, ' was incredible. Thank you so much.'

'It's me who should be thanking you. This is so much more fun when it's shared.''

'Yes,' said Amy, 'we should do things like this more often.'

'I've had a thought,' said Megan. 'we both live alone. Why don't you move in here with me? There's plenty of room.'

'Mmm,' sighed Amy, 'If it's like this afternoon it would certainly be fun.' If you want me, dear, I'd love to.' Then she nodded towards the trees, 'And what are we going to do about him?'

Megan laughed, 'Oh, let's invite him too.'

Later, when the two women went inside to clean up they left a sign propped against the table. 'Dear Watcher,' it said, 'Amy is moving in and as summer will be ending soon, could we please have a camera we can install in the house?'

Rikki
Rikki
20 Followers
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hancebridgehancebridge8 months ago

This story was erotic and exciting. Is there a part 2 or follow up? Interested in knowing if the watcher will come forward.

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