Conflicted Ch. 11

"Sorry baby," she shouted and grabbed her stuff, letting him into the bathroom.

Despite the fact he had seen her naked so many times, he still had a look of excitement on his face when he saw her bare body and it was enough to calm Leslie and make her eager to dress up for him. She dropped her towel onto the stool under the dressing table and was about to sit down on it when Stuart came back out the bathroom.

"Maybe before I go get ready... it make sense to give you your new tattoo? Just 'cause it takes about 15 minutes to work." he asked, clearly nervous she was going to renege on that part.

She was definitely more cautious about the idea of getting another tattoo, but that was almost wholly because it was such a permanent act. She was actually quite excited about getting a temporary one; it was going to be all the fun without any of consequences.

"Sounds good... I'm excited..." she said, giving Stuart a peck on the cheek.

He opened his back pack and pulled out a small pack of '10 temporary lower back tattoos'. Leslie curiously inspected the pack for a few seconds, before opening it pulling the contents out onto the bed. She spread them out and looked at the range 'on offer' for her to wear for the night. All of them were based around tribal designs, but some had floral features whilst others included butterflies. Stuart picked one up and started to read the back of it, which were instructions on how to apply the tattoos, but Leslie was barely listening; now they were in front of her she was scared about putting one of them on, but scared in a fun, good way.

She looked down, first at the belly piercing dangling down across her stomach, then to the lion artwork on her foot, and she could feel lustful excitement burning. She was about to brand herself again for her teenage boyfriend; it felt so wrong in a sexy, taboo sense, and despite her reservations, part of her actually did wish it was permanent.

She could feel the hot wetness between her legs as she turned to Stuart and asked, "So which one, Bully Boy?"

"Ah man, i like all of them," he said, almost drooling as he looked from her naked body to the selection of tramp stamps on the bed.

He 'hmmmm'ed for a few moments and then said, "You choose, just maybe not the one with the moon crescent, it's the least exciting."

"I agree," she said, confidently, enjoying the casual tone they were taking about discussing how to make her look more like a porn star or hooker.

"Well... which of these is the sluttiest?" she pondered out loud.

After a brief silence, she moved all but two of them aside, leaving just a plain tribal pattern and one with a butterfly in the middle.

"The butterfly one is a classic slutty look I think..." she said to Stuart, trying not to giggle at the look of disbelief on his face; he was clearly expecting Leslie to have been a little shy about the whole thing, "... but this other one, though it's a little on the simple side, it does have this heart shape in the middle, which maybe fits better with a romantic date?"

"Sounds... uh... sounds... yeah... uh... good to me..." he replied, stumbling through his words, "I'll go get some... um... warm water... you... um... maybe should lie down on your front..."

She agreed, biting her lip seductively as she climbed onto the bed, enjoying how sexy it made her feel to get Stuart all tongue tied. She heard the tap go in the bathroom, shortly followed by Stuart's return to the bedroom. Clearly trying to assert his dominance again, something she was all for, he pulled her by her legs slightly further down the bed and straddled her knees. She felt warm water being dribbled and spread across her lower back; like a short massage. She sighed as she enjoyed the touch of his hands, but only for a few seconds, before he stopped.

"Just... tryina make sure it's exactly..." mumbled Stuart to himself, before pausing to press the wet paper into her back, "...straight. I think that looks good. Don't move for 15 minutes."

Moving the rest of her body as little as possible, she turned around give Stuart a smile. She asked him to pass her make-up bag, so she could at least use the time to preen herself. Still lying prone, she balanced herself on her elbows, mirror in one hand and lipstick in the other, she distracted herself from the urge to touch her wet back.

She checked her phone impatiently, and saw just over 15 minutes had gone by, so she carefully shimmied backwards off the bed and peeled the paper backing from her skin, checking it to see the pattern had in fact disappeared, meaning it really was now stuck to her lower back. Smiling to herself, she turned the hairdryer to its lowest setting and held it arms length behind her, for around a minute, then gently patted her back to feel dry skin. That was just the first part of her slutty transformation. Going into her overnight bag, she delicately pulled out the revealing dress and placed it on the bed looking at it in equal parts nervousness and anticipation.

She heard the shower go off, followed by the thud of wet footsteps and, eager to only reveal herself to Stuart when she was completely ready, she shouted through to the bathroom, "Baby, don't come out yet, I wanna be complete ready before you see me."

"Fine, I'm not done yet either."

"Bully Boy, did you bring the shoes?"

"Shoes? Yeah, they're here in my bag," he replied, "Do you want them now?"

She waited for him to unlock the bathroom door and held her hand through it, wondering what these were going to look like. Leslie had given Stuart her card details, so he could buy the shoes, and she gave him rough instructions: 'Should be platforms, not absurdly high, should go with the red dress, and should look like they fit on a porn set.' In the throes of an orgasm, that had all sounded fun to say to him, but a little bit of her was worried that they were going to look ridiculous. She heard the clack of plastic and felt two stiletto heels slip into her open hand; tall plastic heels certainly would fit with 'trashy', she thought to herself. She took the shoes from him and shut the door, gasping as she looked at them.

"Fuck," she said to herself, anxious and excited as she looked at the shoes.

These were exactly what she imagined when she thought about 'stripper shoes'. They had a black sole, but the rest was transparent plastic; one and a half inch clear platforms with a long six inch stiletto heel, and a strap, clear too, at the front to slip her toes into. These were not shoes worn by a middle-aged, married, mother-of-two. These were worn by women who wanted to make men see them as sexy playthings; if was perfect because that's what she was tonight, a sex toy for Stuart. She was eager to try them on, but she thought she should try the dress first.

She picked the dress up off of the bed and placed it in a heap on the floor in front of her, using her feet to gently spread the tight skirt into a hole big enough for her to stand in. She had checked the label already, and it was definitely her size, but she hadn't tried it on yet. She had brought a back up dress, in case it didn't fit, but she had just been too intimidated by the dress and wasn't sure she had the nerve to put it on before today; she needed the excitement and the lust driving her as it was now. She pulled the skirt up her legs, and sighed relief when it comfortably fit over her bottom, with only the smallest of shimmying required to get everything in. The fabric was stretchy, but tight, and so it squeezed her cheeks together, with the hem barely coming low enough to cover them completely at the bottom. She knew as she walked it was going to ride up, and it was already the shortest dress or skirt she had ever worn in her life; as she was not going to be wearing underwear, she was going to have to be careful every time she went up stairs, sat down, basically anytime she moved, and there was no chance she'd be bending down this evening.

She found the end of the halter top as it hung down over the front of the dress's skirt and her thighs and brought the ties to behind her neck, walking to the mirror so she could gauge the depth of the hanging cowl. It was a very low top, but depending on where she tied the back of it she could make it a little more modest... but she figured that wasn't the point. She tied it so the front draped just below her belly button, showing the entirety of the inside edge of her breasts, as well as her belly piercing. She walked back over the to shoes, and could already feel her skirt ride up to kiss the crease just below her buttocks. She slid her right foot in first, balancing herself against the dressing table as she suddenly grew to nearly 6 feet tall, before she was able to slide her left foot in too; like the dress, they were a perfect fit.

"Baby... Stuart," she called to him, "Are you ready?"

"Yup, one second," he called back, and she heard tow quick gusts of body spray.

She walked to the bathroom door and could feel the thud of her impractical shoes against the thin carpet as her body weight was compressed onto the small platforms and tiny stiletto points. Her calves, thighs, and even her tightly restricted butt cheeks jiggled as she took each step, but it was her breasts, completely free under the loose fabric of her top that really bounced as she moved; she knew her nipples were going to pop out at some point during the evening. Leslie struck up a sexy pose as the door opened. Stuart, clearly not expecting Leslie to be waiting right outside, had a double take moment, and his mouth fell open. She pulled a few more poses, taking the time to also check herself out properly in the mirror; she had never had this much skin on show in her life, even her swimming costumes probably had more coverage than this. Her legs were completely on show from upper thighs right down to her toes, her back and sides were completely exposed, and her chest and her cleavage was cut from the width of her shoulders down to the bottom of her stomach. Her heart was racing, but she had never felt sexier.

"Fucking... hell..." gasped Stuart, rearranging the growing bulge under his trousers.

"You look smart," she said, grinning at him, and taking a second to admire the smart shirt and trousers he had chosen to wear for their date.

"You... look like..."

"A complete slut?" she finished for him, biting her lip as she smiled at him.

"Yup..."

"You did good, Bully Boy, really good," she whispered, before grabbing him by the back of the neck and kissing him roughly.

She turned her back to the mirror and looked over her shoulder to see her temporary tattoo, emblazoned at the bottom of her bare back. She was going to go out in public like this. Everyone would know she was a dirty slut. She had never felt hornier. She could feel drips of wetness running down her inner thighs. There was just one thing missing. She grabbed Stuart's hand and stepped over to the dressing table, taking him with her. She bent over, dropping down onto her forearms and spread her legs wide.

"Fuck me hard. Make it hurt. We're not leaving until you leave a big big load inside me. Fuck your toy hard."

He didn't need to be told twice. She felt his rock solid cock slide in without any effort, her cunt the wettest it had ever been, and his hands gripped the soft flesh by the top of her thighs. She could feel him go deep, all the way to the end of her cunt, and push against it. Standing upright and with a good purchase of her body, Stuart had perfect leverage to thrush his hips quickly and roughly. She bent down lower and tensed her torso, bracing herself against his body weight. Each time he swung into her she yelped, begging for more whenever she could manage words,

"Urgh,,, Bully Boy... go harder... if you cum deep inside me in the next minute... ugh..." she groaned though panting.

"Then what you slut?"

"I'll ...ugh,,, let you take a photo ... of my tramp stamp... ugh... and show the little dickhead..."

"Fuck what?!"

"No... telling him... it's... his slutty mum... sorry baby... not ready for that... yet..."

"Yet?"

"You... ugh... never know..."

"And if I take longer than a minute to cum..."

"Fuck... urgh... then I still want you to do it... just giving you motivation..."

She felt his hand reach down, searching for her clit, but she moaned out, "No, don't worry about me, just fuck me harder, I want it to hurt."

"Yes, sir!" he responded mockingly.

She could feel her loose breasts swinging and hear her own grunts as Stuart pounded her in between loud curse words.

"So close babe. You really want me to show him your naked body, with a tramp stamp?"

She knew it was bad, she knew it was the horniness talking, but she meant it. Being shown off by Stuart, to anyone was hot, but that was definitely the most taboo choice.

"Yeah, and call me a slut when you do," she panted.

"OK, well don't say anything, I'm gonna video this, show him in action."

She felt him stop for a second, presumably getting his phone ready, so Leslie rolled her hips back and forth, still desperately horny. Stuart laughed, then said, "Action!"

Phone in hand, he couldn't go as fast as he was going before, but Leslie made more noise and made more of an effort to show how much she was enjoying his cock. She managed to avoid saying almost anything, but she knew a few 'fucks' escaped her lips for the 30 seconds or so that Stuart was filming. She felt him lurch and saw him toss his phone onto the bed, using both hands to grip her as he made a couple more thrusts into her. She stood up and turned her upper body round to face him, so they could kiss for a few seconds. His soft cock slid out of her and she turned round completely so that her bare ass was against the dressing table, her dress having ridden all the way up during sex. Stuart pinched her nipples, which had popped out complete from her dishevelled dress, and leant in to kiss her again.

"That was so hot..." she gasped, "But... we should get going... we're never going to make it if we keep stopping every time one of us wants to fuck the other..."

"Yup, the difficulties of having a slutty milf for a girlfriend."

"Poor you..." giggled Leslie.

"Do you need to clean up?" asked Stuart, glancing down at her pussy as he stepped back a few steps so he could fix his outfit.

She looked down, to see spunk was visible just leaking out of her, and some was plastered on her lips, and said, "I think it looks fine... all I'm wearing are the slutty things you got me, and I think they go well with your cum, don't you?"

"God Leslie, are you on some sort of slut overdrive?" sighed Stuart, his mouth agape.

She kissed him on the cheek; he didn't have to bend down like usual, as she was wearing her ridiculously high heels, and stood need to him whilst she sorted her own outfit, then quickly inspected which bits of her makeup she needed to fix. However, she didn't answer Stuart's question; she was a little nervous that she had let her sex drive completely take over, but when going out dressed like a cheap hooker, you had to take a very 'all or nothing' attitude; thinking too much about how crazy this was might push her towards backing out.

Eager to get going, and eager not to give her an opportunity to pull on her other dress, she stepped out the hotel room with less than a couple of minutes of faffing around with her bag and hair. She intentionally didn't put her coat on yet, getting herself used to walking around in public with this dress. She definitely felt naked knowing that someone could come out of one of their rooms right now and see most of her breasts, her back, her legs, and probably the bottom of her butt cheeks. She walked hand-in-hand with Stuart though, holding her coat in her free hand, not letting on how nervous she felt.

They got into the lift and Stuart left go of Leslie's hand to press the ground floor button. Both hands free, she casually unfurled her coat and pulled it on, pretending it was just a habitual action to get ready for the cold outside. She felt Stuart's hand take hers again, but she didn't look at him, feeling guilty for caving to her sense of modesty. The doors opened to reception and she stepped out, taking it slow with her plastic heels on the tiled floor. The platforms clicked loudly across the hall drawing the attention of the ten or so guests and staff who were there too. She noticed a few scandalised looked, and definitely a lingering stare from a couple of guys; yes, her upper body was covered now, but the coat only finished mid-thigh and everyone could still see she was wearing stripper heels. As the doors to outside slid open, she felt a cool breeze make its way around her bare legs and up to her wet cunt, making her hyper-aware of the mixture of sexual fluids rubbing between her thighs.

The taxi took a few minutes to arrive, but apart from a few raised eyebrows, and not so subtle attempts to check her out, including their driver, nothing bad happened, so Leslie relaxed. It was the prospect of getting to the restaurant that made her nervous, she couldn't sit around in her coat the whole time; that would defeat the point. Sitting in the taxi, she beckoned Stuart over to the middle seat and started making out with Stuart. It wasn't like one of their normal high-energy, almost about to fuck sessions, as Leslie felt a little self-conscious about the driver, but with a little bit of wandering hands, mostly hers over his trousers, and some steady kissing, Leslie felt horny and excited enough that by the time they arrived at their fancy restaurant that she felt ready to go.

The restaurant was in the basement floor, with a little reception at the top of some stairs; a fairly no-nonsense gentleman greeted them in a soft French accent, "Good evening, madam and sir."

She noticed his expression flick to one of confusion for a second, first as he clocked their age difference, then looked down at her perspex heels. She assumed he was trying to work out if she was an inappropriately dressed for a dinner with her son, or just a much older girlfriend. He pursed his lips for a second, maybe disapproving of age gap relationships, or perhaps he figured he had paid her for the night.

"It's under Stuart Warren, for 7pm," said Stuart, and Leslie tightened her grip on his arm a little more in excitement; it was really happening.

"Ah oui, may I 'ave your coats, please?"

'If you didn't like my shoes, you're not going to like this,' she thought to herself, feeling more mischievous than embarrassed now.

The greeter's eyes widened as he noticed how little she was wearing, but, once they returned to normal, he remained professional as he took her coat to the back room. She had made sure to check the dress code a few days ago, and though they were a fancy place, the didn't have a strict dress code apparently; they asked guests to avoid wearing sportswear but that was all, and she knew she wasn't about to play a full set of tennis in this outfit, so she assumed it would be fine.

"Mr Warren, and madam," said the greeter, "Please 'ead downstairs, my colleague will seat you, and I 'ope you 'ave a lovely evening."

Leslie was very careful on the stairs, thankfully they weren't spiral, but they were quite steep and she needed to hold the handrail tightly as she descended. A man, probably in his late 20s, started to bound up the stairs, talking into his phone but he stopped to gape for a second, before realising how obviously he was staring. She wondered if he saw right up her skirt and it made her feel a little exposed, but in an excited way, like New Year's Eve. Leslie hanging on Stuart's arm again, the couple entered the main restaurant. There was a waitress just inside the door, and she confirmed their names, only taking a second to glance back at Leslie's barely covered body, but without reacting to it any further.