1. Rachel's Dare - Part 3


    Date: 1/21/2017, Categories: Exhibitionism, Author: staceyshackleton, Rating: 7, Source: LushStories

    you've got the balls to pull off such a," Rachel raised an eyebrow and thrust out her chest for extra effect, "stiff task!" As the lift doors slid shut, I found myself with the one of the largest, hardest, most obvious erections of my life. Without even the confining material of my underwear to restrain it, my penis pushed out my trousers so it looked like I had an iron rod jutting out from my crotch. Nothing I could think of or visualise could reduce that erection, and now I had to go in there and present. Not good, not good at all. Closing my eyes, I briefly thought of calling the presentation off. Well, that would be ridiculous, wouldn't it? I even half-considered getting someone else to present it for me. Yes, good luck with explaining that one away , I said to myself admonishingly. As I quickly ran out of options, I resigned myself to what was about to happen, and took a few hesitant steps towards the room. As I did, I heard the lift doors open behind me again. Curiosity, caution, and paranoia all competed for control at that point, but curiosity finally edged the contest. I turned around. Rachel was still standing there, in the lift, coat now closed. She seemed positively decent and well-groomed in that outfit. As I opened my mouth to say something, she lightly tossed something at me, and then let the doors silently slide shut again. She was gone as quickly as she'd reappeared. Whatever she'd thrown at me had landed squarely on the bulge protruding through my ...
    trousers. Looking down, I found a lacy woman's thong, resting innocently on my now-throbbing, practically untameable cock. God, that woman was hot ! *********** "Remind me again why you're supporting the Patriots in this match," I said. As the hours had ticked down towards the start of the game, I'd become increasingly pessimistic about the Bears' chances. Rachel and I were now in Garry's Sports Bar, and the healthy assortment of Patriot's shirts on display left us in no doubt who the home team was here. Rachel grinned at me, and took in the entire crowd with a quick, sweeping wave of her hand. "Look at this people, Pete. Dozens of our fellow citizens, here to watch a game. If you didn't know they were Patriots fans, you might almost think they were ordinary, decent, upstanding people like you and me." Rachel sat back and surveyed the scene, and then pressed on. "So, when half time comes, and we find out which team's winning, they get to see one of us in the outfit that the other has purchased for them." Rachel prodded the small backpack that lay by her foot under our table, drawing my attention for what seemed like the twentieth time to the secret clothes that she'd brought along for just such an eventuality. She'd been deliberately quiet on what was hidden in that bag. To be fair, I'd been similarly reticent to tell her what outfit I was keeping stashed in my own backpack. "If the Patriots are winning," Rachel was explaining, "then the crowd will be in a good mood, and our ...
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