Truth: As a frum veibel and a shpitzel wearer, people look at me with a different light as they would a not-so frum or frim woman like a sheitel wearing woman or a more modern one. The world expects a certain behavior from me because I wear a shpitzel and look extremely frum on the outside. For example: I would be looked down upon if I wore clear nail polish on my fingernails. I would also be judged if my tichel from my shpitzel has more red or bright pink than a darker hue. Both my own family and my husband's family are super naive and frum. I am judged by them constantly for the way I look and act.
Fantasy: As I was stepping into the train station in NYC, I got a few weird looks from goyim. Probably judging me based on my looks. That is just how we humans are. We tend to pre-judge everyone based on appearance first. I’m used to it. In the heimishe world we have lots of judgement but I learnt how to deal with it. Here, at the train station platform something was different. There was a sexy, handsome guy on my right side holding a newspaper in his arm folded up while sipping his starbucks latte with the other hand. I noticed him. There was something about him that I found so freaking attractive. It’s hard to put a finger on it. Maybe it was his energy and vibe that emanated from his body. I didn’t wanna budge, I wanted to walk into the same train car as him. He looked like he was in his mid 40’s, salt and pepper hair with a 5 day unshaved facial hair. He wore fashionable eyeglasses and donned a cream color trench coat. His height was also a big factor in my attraction to him. I’m considered to be tall as a female. 5’7” but he must have been over 6’4”. I would say he is German, Italian. I loved the way he unfolded the newspaper placed it on one thigh which was laying on the other foot for comfort and support. I thought he must be smart, (glasses, duh) and very well mannered. (his hand gesture to me to step into the train first) Since the train wasn't too full I sat down next to him on his left side. I was wearing my regular clothes, the same I would wear on 13th Ave. in Boro park. A flairy, dark, long skirt and beige, thick stockings, flats. I also had a black rain jacket with a wide belt over it. I pulled it a bit tighter to have my figure shown. I’m blessed with a good body. I am proud to show off a bit more when I go to Manhattan where there are less heimish people to bump into. I kept glancing at Mr. Handsome. I’m not sure if I came across as creepy or weird or nosy. At one point he glanced back at me and our eyes met for the first time. I blushed slightly but looked away quickly. I wanted to repeat that. It made my heart flutter. I was really horny that day (maybe as any other day) I was craving a man so badly. I felt like something was missing deeper inside (no pun). I am a woman with a little guts. I guess I got it from my father. He is known to be a bit gutzy too. (in a holy way of course) Our eyes met again, this time I stared for 2 seconds longer and licked my lips while still looking. I did make him blush. That was such a tease for me. He closed his newspaper and smiled at me. He extended out his hand and introduced himself. I didn’t shake his hand, instead I moved up closer to him and with my head not fully turned to his side, I tried whispering to him that as an orthodox woman I am not allowed to shake a mans hand in public, but when we get off in a corner somewhere, where no one can see, we may be able to do that. He was utterly intrigued. He told me he came to NYC for a short visit from Toronto, Canada. His sexy demeanor made me so wet. I couldn't concentrate on what he was telling me. I kept licking my lips and had a burning desire to touch him. Feel his warmth, hug him and much more. As we were schmoozing I told him that I have never been with anyone except for my husband which I have been married to for a while. We spoke about marriage, monogamy and lots of other naughty stuff. He said If I want to I can join him in his hotel room for a fun time. I was super hesitant, scared, excited, and horny all at once. I couldn't resist this opportunity. I was so scared to be with a goy. I was taught that goyim hate us yidden, especially the ultra orthodox. I guess he was too intrigued and wanted to sort of break my goy virginity. I was extremely skeptical, he wasn’t pushy, which was a turn-on. He told me one thing that made me say yes. He asked if I ever squirted before. I had no idea what he was talking about. He was convincing enough to make an ultra orthodox frum mom of kids follow a random sheigatz into a hotel room for some steamy, hot, pounding sex. The racing beat of my heart pulsated through my toes. A roller coaster of emotion took over my entire body. I told him to walk ahead of me and not beside me since I can’t take the chance of pumping into any family or friends that are out shopping in Manhattan now. I can’t be seen walking next to a goy. As I was racing behind him my mind went blank. All logic left the window. I was too horny to think or concentrate on anything else. After all, I was a deprived woman. Completely untamed. He quickly locked the door shut behind us and put his stuff down on the dresser. I excused myself and ran into the bathroom. Removed my shpitzel extra carefully and undid my hair from my hair band. It was a bit sticky from the hair glue I used to keep all the hair up. I washed up my privates to be fresh and clean. I got out and he jumped back in shock. But realized right away what had happened. I couldn't help but giggled so loudly out of excitement and nervousness. He grabbed me by the shoulder and started kissing me on the lips. I didn't have much practice with that. He taught me how to kiss properly and so I leaned closer to him and put my hands around the back of his hand, tilted my head and kissed him slowly, gently at first. Tugging at his bottom lip and sucking its side. He offered me his tongue. I took it into my mouth and felt his manly, warm breath and wet, wiggly tongue in my mouth. My pussy got drenched. My spine was fired up with good feelings. My nipples were aching to be touched and played with. He noticed how horny I was. He unbuttoned my shirt quickly. Hugged me again with just my bra and skirt on. It felt so good to be hugged like that. He grabbed me again to kiss my now blushing, swollen lips. At this point, my nipples got so stiff it was sticking out from my black, lacy bra. He noticed and took action. He unhooked the bra strap and let it fall to the floor. My D cup boobs were standing with its pink nipples and perfectly round areola directly starting at his belly. He grabbed them gently and I let out a big moan. A moan of pleasure and hope. He fondled them, each one separately and both together. I was in seventh heaven. I have very sensitive nipples. Every touch gives me shivers down my spine and straight into my pussy. He quickly undid his tie and shirt threw it across the room and picked me up, threw me on the bed. I laughed like a little girl. Last time a man held me like that was when I was 8 years old. He shlepped my skirt, tights and panties down in a hurry. Like a hungry wolf. I was craving to have him inside of me. He didn’t give it to me that fast. He was teasing me and teaching me. My pussy started staining the bed with my lubrication. He spread my legs and went straight to town. He deeply inhaled my feminine pheromones that were hidden in my short pubes that I left there for that purpose. He spread my lips apart and watched my now engorged clit peek out from its pink hood. It was begging for attention. He flicked it with his tongue and I let out loud, deep moans. I was holding on to the pillow with my fingers dug in. writhing in pleasure. He kept eating me out and with one hand he played with one nipple, twisting it and pulling it, while I played with the other one. I then grabbed and pulled his hair, shaking and quivering from the hardest orgasm I ever felt. I started tearing up after that. It’s what emotions and hormones can do to you. He got up, wiped his chin off from my wetness and secretions and flipped me over on my knees. He was facing my perfect, flawless tuches. He grabbed my hips closer to his crotch and started pounded me doggy-style. He had to cover my mouth, that is how loud I was moaning with pleasure. All of a sudden, I feel like I'm going to explode. A feeling I never felt before. It was a feeling of fullness and something needed to bust with pleasure. I started to squirt almost a gallon of vag-liquid. It came gushing out. I was freaking out. I had no idea women really squirt. I was in awe. But I had the most relaxing, exhilarating feeling. Almost like a drunken or drugged up feeling. I was laying in both of our cum. Messy, gooey wetness. I felt helpless, without an ounce of energy left in me. He was laying beside me also speechless until he uttered those words, “round two”? I looked at the time, 3 hours had passed. I had to run home to bake challahs for shabbos while the goy’s cum was running down the back of my thighs down my legs painting a new seam on my beige stockings.
איך בין א זכור אין איך האב ליב צו רעדן פון איין אבר וואס א יעדע זכור האט אבער ליידער רעדט מען נישט גענוג פון דעם די אבר איז די הייליגסטע ביים יוד אזו שטייט אין ספרים הקדושים די אבר ניצט מען פאר צוויי הופט סיבות איינס ארויצןגיסען די שמוצעגע פליסגייט פון קערפער אין די צווייטע צו בוען די וועלט
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