SOFT TARGET

SOFT TARGET -Part One
When my friend Claire and I walked through the chilly main shopping street one evening I was wearing my new, beautiful, long and warm mohair overcoat while Claire had her fluffy sweater under her raincoat. Suddenly Claire stopped me and whispered: “Did you notice how many people are watching you? When I was walking behind you a few minutes ago I saw at least five men looking back to you, hesitating. I think they were enchanted, but also taken aback, briefly confused by your emanation. I suddenly realised that in such an outfit you could be overpowering to some people, nice men who are sensitive to fluffy mohair. I think there are more of those than we realise”.
We walked on a bit and I started testing her idea on the men we crossed. And she was absolutely right: I became aware that I do have some impact and I liked it! Quite a few even showed embarrassed when I looked them in the eyes and when I did look back after they had passed I could quite often see that they were really confused. “Wow” I said to Claire, “That’s quite something. What should we do with that?” When we talked about our discovery a bit more later that evening we got more and more exited about having this power of confusion on – maybe (Claire had been counting) – one out of every twenty men on the street. We even started making plans of using this power to our satisfaction and had a lot of fun about it. So we decided to have a go the following week, when the cold street would be full of evening shoppers again. Claire promised to bring some ‘woolly tools’ but didn’t specify. But I had plenty ideas about what she might mean. And there we went! It was freezing and the streets were full of eligible men, both young and mature. We were dressed the same as the previous week and had agreed to go for a handsome and muscular young man. Claire was walking behind me and would make the first choice. I am sure she let pass quite a few excellent examples, but at last I heard her talking to someone just behind me: “Isn’t she gorgeous!” And after a bit of silence during which I would have loved to see the other person’s face: “Why don’t you and me go and tell her? I’m sure she’ll be very happy to hear. These days we don’t give enough spontaneous praise to our fellow citizens, especially when they really deserve it.” I thought that was very well spoken but walked on slowly, curious about what would happen next. Claire and what seemed like a splendid young chap hurriedly came past me and turned round to me when she started saying: “Hello, you’re wearing the most beautiful coat I’ve ever seen” and turning to him: “Don’t you agree?” Yes, he did and I stretched my fluffy arm towards his face to let him feel it, just a second. “Thank you both”, I said. “You are the first ever in my life to make me this complement!” And I spontaneously embraced them both for a few seconds.
“Why don’t we go and have a drink to celebrate?” I added. “I’ll treat you”. Down in the pub we started to know more about Jim than he about us. We could now also admired Claire’s gorgeous sweater and Jim had a good chance to feel our soft wools. A bit later he treated us on a nice pizza and then I offered to drive both Claire and Jim home: they agreed they had been drinking a bit more than they should as drivers and I had stuck to mineral water the whole evening. When we walked to my car it had got even colder and Claire pulled a hot mohair cap over her ears and mittens over her hands.
Within a minute after I started driving, Claire began having a go at gentle Jim on the backseat, teasing and fondling him with her ‘soft tools’. He seemed to be pretty overwhelmed by it all. She let him kiss her sweater and then pulled her long cap over his head. In my mirror I could see her caressing his face and I wish I was on that seat myself. “Who wants to be dropped first?” I asked.

Upon my question who should be dropped first both Claire and Jim immediately called ‘Me’, Claire very clearly and definite and Jim a bit muffled behind the thick, prickly wool of her cap over his face and Claire’s fingers stimulating his itchy sensations. Did he also sound a bit uneasy, I wondered? Claire might have sensed the same, because she asked him: “Why Jimmy do you want to be the first to go? Don’t you like my little teasing? You’re not afraid I hope?” No, Jim said he was not afraid at all. He liked our company and actually wanted to invite us to his house for a little drink. But this wasn’t really what we fancied, as he had earlier described his living conditions as quite social and we just wanted him alone for the two of us. So Claire said: “That’s exactly what I wanted to do as well in my home. And I do have a nice, very special mohair sweater at home which I’d like the two of you to see and feel before we part. What about that?”
Jim hesitated and tried to lift the cap in order to see where we were going. But he couldn’t and Claire giggled. I remember she had told me she’d bring her “soft tools” and this cap must be one of them. While stroking his face and playing with his eyes, cheeks and lips she had gently put a double knot in a hardly visible cord that was tacked through the edge of her very fluffy cap. He hadn’t noticed and now he was obviously wondering how this thing could have become so tight. There was a lot for me to see in that mirror, but I also had to take care of the driving. So I said: “Okay Claire, you tell me how to drive from here and then Jim and I will tell you whether your sweater is really good enough for the stopover.” So, with Jim not knowing where he was going and after a lot more turns and cuddles we stopped at Claire’s house. We helped him inside with our woolly arms around him and Claire’s heavy hood still over his face. In the car she had told him, amidst her bewitching fingerplay on his face and pressing his own hands to her mohair-covered bosom, that if he would give himself a good wash under her shower she might allow him to feel that very special and precious sweater of hers on his bare skin.
During the short walk we both noticed how excited he had got and how little he seemed in control of his situation. Claire led him straight to the bathroom and I followed. Then I volunteered to untie the knot of poor Jim’s blindfolding cap which wasn’t easy. At last we could all see each other again and I must say, I really liked his face, slightly confused and a bit red. And he obviously liked the look of us. We briefly stared smilingly at his bulge and he blushed when he saw us looking. Almost threatening, we then approached him slowly with our arms widespread, but we just embraced him briefly though firmly with our woolly arms and then withdrew. Before closing the bathroom door Claire showed Jim a few things and I heard her telling him that the best way to experience mohair is to feel it without seeing. So it would be best for him to pull her soft cap over his face again when he was ready and for the rest: nothing would be the best. I was already in the corridor and really longing for things to come. Without waiting for his reply we left him alone, fully aware of his rather confused state at this moment.
While Jim was doing his things in the bathroom and probably trying to get his mind clear, we were getting ourselves ready for the next step. I told Claire that she’d made an excellent pick, that he really was the soft type of man I’d been dreaming about and that I was looking forward to have a lot of fun with him. She was in equally high spirits and we cuddled each other in warm anticipation. Then she showed me the ‘very special’ she had been boosting about in the car and I must admit: it’s a great one in all its simplicity and I’d love to see Jimmy in it. Actually, it wasn’t really a sweater, but more like a mixture between a cardigan and a rather short bath robe, with a nice long band to keep it closed or to tie anything with. My fingers tested the fluffy mohair and I’m not sure what would be warmer: the colour or the fabric. I could easily imagine our Jimmy engulfed in it and at the same time so exposed. What a marvellous choice for a toy!
But soon he should be ready and we put the ‘special’ away. I wondered how he would appear: I could hardly believe he would dare to show up naked with only Claire’s cap over his face as she had advised him to do. Then Claire had a closer look at me in my tight black outfit without the heavy woollen overcoat, which I had of course put off. “I like your silhouette, but what about a bolero for you to add some mystery? I can lend you a nice yellow one if you like.” She went to her cupboard again and a few seconds later I had the softest possible material over my shoulders and its tail ends between my fingers. “Thanks darling, you’re great” I told her when I saw myself in the mirror and again we hugged and I kissed her over the “itchy witchy” I was holding in both hands. I knew this bolero could be my ultimate tool tonight for both softening and hardening my target boy.
At that moment the bathroom door opened and Jimmy appeared, a towel fixed around his waist and Claire’s cap in his hands, looking at us as freely and manlike as he could, which wasn’t very convincing I must say, a great sensation to me. We both stood up and I don’t know whether it was my bolero or Claire’s pointing at her fluffy cap in his hand, but he got red all over his face again, hesitated, closed his eyes and just said: “I can’t…”. Claire walked towards him, got the cap and pulled it over his face again. But she didn’t fix it around his neck this time. “You were closing your eyes anyhow. So I don’t think you mind me covering your face again”, she said. But this time he did mind! Almost panicky (it seemed to me) he pulled off the hood as fast as he could. “Please, let me see your special thing, let me feel it and then let me go. I really have to go home soon”, he said, looking really worried now. But Claire said: “Please don’t feel scared, but we won’t let you go just like that. For you to really feel my ‘special’ you need time, a lot of time!”. I nodded in confirmation and swung my bolero over and beyond his head, enclosing his arms and holding the ends firmly against his bare tummy, with my arms crossed. And I kissed his lips. Then Claire said: “Okay, you want to see my special woolly? Then we want to see your special willy”. And she pulled the towel off his hips. I had not at all expected what we then saw….
Wollywolly

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