Sarah's Commando Adventure

She had no idea what it was, but as she went to pull her panties back up, she spotted the stain. Oh God! There was obviously something disgusting on the edge of the pan; it looked like vomit and smelled foul. She couldn't possibly put them back on now. With some disgust, she gingerly peeled them over her shoes, wrapped them in toilet paper, flushed the toilet and left the cubicle. She dropped the soiled garment into the bin, and carefully washed her hands.

Now what? It was just after 11pm, she was supposed to finish off the night with the girls in the club. She thought about making her excuses and finding the nearest all-night Tesco where she could buy some new panties. But she had a cab booked for 2am, and she'd waited all week for a chance to go out with the girls. Oh sod it! It wasn't obvious that she had no panties on, although her skirt was a bit short, but if some perv decided to look up her skirt, then good luck to him. If she was wearing some of the thongs she'd seen recently, it would be hard to tell the difference anyway.

She walked back, a little self-consciously, to where her friends were sitting. They were gossiping away in their normal excitable, slightly raucous way, and didn't notice how Sarah sat down, quite self-consciously, carefully crossing her legs. Zoe was holding forth about some old groper in her office. Sarah knew the man concerned, having worked at the same company a few years earlier, and felt that she exaggerated a bit, but then, that was Zoe.

Around ten years her junior, they had met when Zoe was a new graduate assigned to Sarah's department. Sarah liked the girl's attitude -- getting on and getting the work done, but never taking things too seriously. They had become friends, rather than boss and employee, and were still good buddies several years after Sarah had moved on. Although several of the girls were also people she had worked with, most of her current crowd she'd met through Zoe, who had involved her in a lot of social events. At 38, Sarah was the oldest of the group, and the girls sometimes referred to her as 'the Boss'. However, they rarely made her feel the age gap -- she was just one of the girls.

They sat and gossiped for a while until the place began to warm up, then most of them went for a prolonged session on the floor. After about 45 minutes, they took a break. Most of them returned to their seats, and a couple of the girls went to the loo. Sarah drank some of her water -- the wine in these places was undrinkable and most of the cocktails were far too sweet -- and looked around. The seating area round the bar was raised up, and she could see the dancers bobbing up and down on the dance floor. There were some guys standing around the edge of the floor, leaning or sitting on the outside of the platform. She saw that one was looking straight at her. He was actually rather attractive, which made a pleasant change; fit, long, thick dark hair, nice dark eyes and high cheekbones. As their eyes met, he grinned and gave her the 'thumbs up' sign. She smiled back, happy to be given appreciation by a man obviously some years younger than herself -- especially as she was surrounded by younger and potentially more attractive girls.

Then it dawned on her -- the seats opposite her were unoccupied. From where he stood, he could see under the table and straight up her short skirt. Her look of surprise must have registered, because as she hurriedly crossed her legs, her admirer grinned and winked. She blushed. Then she thought 'sod it', and very deliberately uncrossed and opened her legs again, sliding slightly forward on her stool so that her skirt rode up a little higher. 'Let's see what he makes of that!' she thought, resuming eye contact as she took a sip of a vodka and tonic that Abi had just set down in front of her.

She wondered whether she'd gone too far; whether the boy would nudge his friends and draw their attention to her nakedness. Instead he just gave her the 'OK' sign, thumb and index finger joined in a circle, other fingers raised, pursed his lips and leaned on the side of the bar platform, admiring the view. She acted nonchalant, though her heart was pounding. This was so unlike her. She'd had a fraction of the alcohol her friends had consumed, and she was surprised that, instead of hurriedly moving away to the anonymity of the toilets, she was brazenly displaying herself to a complete -- and, she had to admit, a rather hunky -- stranger. And he kept looking, admiring the view she was presenting to him. The situation was making her more than a little excited.

"C'mon you tarts -- time for another bop!" Zoe's voice cut through her reverie. The girls were all getting to their feet for another session, possibly the last of the night as it was now after 1am and she had to leave by 2. She carefully stood up and headed towards the dance floor, watching the guy out of the corner of her eye. She lost sight of him as she and her friends squeezed through the crush, so she just started dancing, assuming (slightly dejectedly) that she'd never see him again.

Ten minutes later, she turned around in mid-move and bumped into someone -- the guy from the bar area. He smiled and started to dance opposite her. She was impressed -- he certainly could move, in a way that few blokes could. He knew how to move his hips and arms, rather than adopting the rather pathetic 'hopping from one foot to the other' style adopted by most men she'd met. He was also very fit -- lean, quite tall -- and undoubtedly not a day over 25, probably younger. That put him into the 'toyboy' category, and she assumed he was doing the toying -- with her. Conversation being impossible on the dance floor, she just went with the flow and made lots of eye contact, enjoying the attention and the rather envious glances of the girls around her.

Then, after about another fifteen minutes of dancing, the DJ put on a tune that she loathed. She pulled a face, and as if sensing his cue, the boy took her hand and led the way through the crowd to a quieter area at the back, known informally as "snoggers' corner". Here, the lights were low, the music a bit quieter -- it was just possible to hold a conversation if you leaned close enough -- and there was seating. Or more correctly, there were long, padded benches covered in dimly visible couples in various states of undress and initial stages of copulation.

The boy glanced around, and seeing nowhere to sit, pulled her gently up against the wall and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was a surprise -- soft, sensuous and very welcome. She responded enthusiastically, as his arms moved around her. Her hands slid down his back, enjoying the feel of his muscles through his rather damp t-shirt. Her dress, which had a low back, gave him ample opportunity to touch her skin, something to which she had no objection at all, as his fingers seemed to set up little electric shocks wherever they met her exposed flesh. His thigh moved between hers, and she could feel it press the skirt of her dress firmly against her pussy. A tingling between her legs told her how wet she had become.

When he finally broke the kiss, he switched his attention to her throat and the side of her neck, gradually nibbling his way up to her ear. "Seems you've been a forgetful girl tonight", he murmured. (Actually, he probably said it quite loudly, but the music was so loud it was almost as if he was whispering to her). She was a little puzzled and didn't reply for a moment. His hand snaked downwards, cupping her bottom, and deftly inserting a long finger into the back of her slit. The jolt of pleasure made her gasp. She realised what he meant.

"Well, I..." She realised that telling him the story of how she had become panty-less would hardly enhance the mood, so she opted for a different tack. "Oh, yes, I have been a careless girl, haven't I?" She moved her hands down to cup his hard buttocks, pulling his thigh into firmer contact with her mound. He slipped his finger a little deeper into her slit, teasing the entrance to her vagina. Ooh -- very nice.

He resumed kissing her, one finger stroking and now probing her slit, his other hand sliding round to capture a breast. She could feel the hardness of his body through his clothes. She slid her hand round from his hard bum, around his hip to rest on the outline of his equally hard cock through his tight trousers. This was getting very interesting. Now all she needed was...

"Taxis for Baxter, Patterson, Fisher and Galbraith"

The music had faded, and the DJ was as usual using the pause to announce the arrival of cabs -- including the one she was to share with Abi. Shit! She quickly glanced at her watch -- it was nearly ten past 2, and the cab had probably been waiting a while. What to do? Ask him home with her? Tricky, as she was staying the night with Abi in her tiny flat. There wasn't room for a guy. She couldn't change her plans and take the longer journey to her own home unless he had transport -- the last train was long gone. Perhaps see if she could go home with the new boy...

"That's my cab. Looks like I've got to go -- unless...."

"Shit! Yeah, they called mine as well, and I'm sharing with three mates. Can't I go back with you?"

"Sorry, not tonight." She almost sobbed with frustration. She was soaking wet and getting desperate to get his face and his cock between her legs, in any sequence. He was the hottest man -- boy -- she'd seen in ages and he was about to slip away.

"Wait -- give me your mobile!" He shrugged, reached into a pouch on his belt and retrieved the phone. She punched the number in and waited 'til she heard her own phone in her bag ring. "Right. The last number called is mine. My name's Sarah. Sarah. Got that?" He nodded. "What's yours?"

"Sam"

"Where do you live, Sam?"

"Dartford, but like I said, I'm staying with mates in Battersea at the minute".

"Call me tomorrow -- today -- right? I want to see you again. And if you're lucky I might be forgetful!"

She kissed him once more, and felt his fingers give her pussy another flick, before withdrawing.

"Oooh, you naughty boy!" she grinned as they finally broke the clinch. As the DJ again called out a list of names for cabs, she caught sight of Abi, in her coat, looking around in a worried way. She gave him a final squeeze. "What's my name?"

"Sarah."

"Good. And what have you got to do?"

"Call you later."

"And are you going to do it?"

"Of course!" He lifted his finger theatrically to his mouth and sucked it. "I think I could get quite a taste for this."

"Good". She gave him a final kiss and turned to dash over to Abi.

"Bloody hell, Sarah, where have you been? If we're not lucky the cab will have gone by now!"

"Sorry, sweetie. I got a bit distracted."

Abi glanced up. Sam was right behind them at the cloakroom, getting his jacket. "So I see. Why don't I ever get that kind of distraction?"

As they dashed out of the door and into a cab that roared off as soon as the door was shut, she almost said "Well, perhaps you should leave your knickers off every once in a while!"

Sarah found it very hard to sleep. When she got home, she gulped down some water, cleaned her teeth and removed her make up, shouted goodnight to Abi and jumped into bed. The spare bedroom was tiny, but at least it was somewhere to crash, rather than try to make the impossible journey back to Woking.

All she could think about was Sam -- his big dark eyes, his long dark hair, his high cheekbones, his lean body, his hard buttocks, his hard cock, and yes, his long finger in her pussy. She was so wet. She couldn't remember a time when she'd been as wet as this without a lot of mouth-work. There was nothing for it. She pulled her mini-vibrator from her overnight bag and brought herself to a fierce, jagged climax, biting the pillow so as not to alert Abi, eyes tight shut, picturing Sam naked.

Abi wasn't the most accomplished of hostesses. She was a nice girl, but hadn't really become properly domesticated. She still behaved rather like a student. Breakfast was a cup of black instant coffee - which Sarah had to make for herself - as Abi had neglected to buy any fresh milk and what she had was off. There was no fruit or cereal in the house, but Sarah did manage to find a loaf of bread (white, stodgy stuff) and make herself a slice of toast.

When Abi still hadn't stirred at 11, Sarah took her a coffee. Abi took a sip, grunted a "thanks" and turned over to go back to sleep.

Sarah said "Look Abs, I want to do some shopping. I'll head off, and when you're ready, call me and we'll meet up, OK?"

A feeble "OK" emerged from the bedding.

Sarah headed back to her room and selected a top and jeans. She showered, applied some slap and began to get dressed. She started pulling on her panties, and then suddenly stopped. Discarding the jeans, she found a short-but-decent skirt in her bag and pulled it on. She then tried out a number of poses in the mirror. After last night's adventure, the thought of going out around Town with no knickers was suddenly very exciting. Having explored a number of poses in which she would -- and wouldn't -- expose her nakedness, she came to an inescapable conclusion. Removing the skirt again, she headed for the bathroom, and for the first time shaved her pussy.

She had trimmed her pubes before, of course, preferring to pluck out hairs wherever possible to avoid re-growth, so she wasn't particularly hairy. However, it seemed inescapable that, to complete the effect, she needed to remove all of the hair. It was a tricky exercise, and she didn't escape without nicking herself a couple of times. However, once rinsed and moisturised, she had to admit, looking in the mirror, that it both looked and felt pretty horny.

On the Tube into Oxford Circus she suddenly felt self-conscious. Two elderly ladies sat opposite her for part of the journey, and she was terrified she might accidentally flash them. Then a very creepy-looking bloke got on, sat opposite her and stared at her for about three stops. She had decided that it made no sense, and looked ridiculous, to wear a bra but no panties, so she selected a tight and fairly substantial t-shirt that kept her firm and relatively modest tits in check. However, this didn't stop her nipples offering themselves up for inspection, and the man opposite had noticed this. Although the day was quite warm and it was stuffy in the carriage, she put her light jacket back on, taking care not to un-cross her legs, and sat in a rather hunched position until Oxford Circus.

The next issue was the escalator. If she timed it wrong, she would end up standing in a position where some nerd could look up his skirt. The station was fairly busy, so she managed to get on a few steps ahead of a couple of decent-looking men. If they were admiring her arse, it wasn't clear, because they seemed to be locked in conversation for the first half of the ride. However, they went quiet a little after the halfway point, and she hoped they had gained something from the trip.

At the top, she strode away purposefully and off through the barriers. As she collected her ticket after the machine had scanned it, she turned to see the two men watching her. She smiled and moved on.

As she sashayed along Oxford Street, the unfamiliar sensation of cool air on her bare pussy was tantalising and delightful. She stopped at a shoe shop and got the cute male assistant to bring her a pair of very sexy heels. She struggled to get them on, requesting his help. He knelt down at her feet, fastened the difficult ankle straps, and as he raised his head to ask if they were OK now, she could tell by his expression that he had caught a glimpse of what he was meant to see. She made a point of admiring the shoes, sitting with her knees apart, apparently oblivious of the fact that he was simultaneously admiring her pussy. She got up, walked up and down and looked at herself in the mirror. The heels did make her legs look sexy, and added further frisson to the pleasant tingle she was feeling as a result of exposing herself to the assistant.

She returned to her seat, carefully sat down opposite the boy and checked from the direction of his gaze that she had gained his full attention. Nonchalantly, she said "D'you know, I'm not sure about these. Could you please keep them for me? What time do you close tonight?"

"Six o'clock" he said not taking his eyes off the view she had presented him with.

"Good. If I decide I want them, I'll come back before 6. And is that when you - get off?" She emphasised the double-entendre.

"Er -- yes." He looked into her face, a little nonplussed. She smiled. He was clearly unsure whether she was giving him a come-on or not, and that's how she wanted to leave it.

She removed the shoes and handed them to him with another smile, then put her own shoes back on and stood up. "Hope to see you later, then!" As she strode confidently out of the shop, she could feel delicious tingling sensations inside. She was being a naughty girl for the first time in her life, and loving it.

She had a leisurely coffee at Starbucks, positioning herself on a stool at the window counter to give her the opportunity to flash any interesting guys going past. She was really getting into this, and it was getting her seriously turned on. So far she'd exposed herself to two very good looking -- young - men and got the sort of reaction she would never have dreamed of for a woman pushing 40.

She checked her phone again; nothing from Abi, and more importantly nothing from Sam. It was nearly 1pm. Surely he must be up and about by now? She resisted the temptation to call or text him yet. Instead, she focused on the men in the café, deciding if any of them were worthy of a flash. On careful inspection, she decided not. To her surprise, however, she noticed a striking-looking black girl looking at her strangely. Intrigued, Sarah turned a little on her stool so that the girl could get a better view.

The girl was clearly looking in the right direction. After a few moments, she looked up into Sarah's eyes and very subtly moved her tongue to stroke her upper lip. She then reached across her table and moved her shopping bags off the chair opposite her, then motioned for Sarah to join her.

Intrigued, Sarah climbed down off her stool quite gingerly, carried the remains of her coffee across to the table and sat down. "Hi", said the girl, extending a hand "I'm Jenni. I love your outfit -- I just couldn't help noticing you I thought you might like to join me, so perhaps we could get to know each other a little better."

Sarah took the proffered hand. "Very pleased to meet you. I'm Sarah." She sat down. Jenni was dressed in a pink V-neck t-shirt that showed off her dark-chocolate skin and full breasts very effectively, with pink glass earrings and a matching pendant that hung tantalisingly on a long, silver chain in her cleavage. She was wearing tight jeans and rather nice strappy sandals -- also pink - and her finger and toenails were painted a matching shade.

"So, is your current outfit how you usually dress, or is it for someone special?" Jenni kept her voice quiet against the hubbub of chatter around them, but there was a certain erotic intensity behind it. Sarah had largely focused her sexuality on guys. She had occasionally noticed some really sexy girls, and idly wondered what it might be like to play with them. On one occasion, when she'd had rather a lot to drink, she had once snogged a girl she had met at a party, who she was pretty sure was a closet lesbian. She had enjoyed it, but they had been interrupted by the girl's boyfriend before it had gone too far. Jenni was undoubtedly hot, from her lustrous, black curly hair, her big, brown eyes and hot pink lips to the swell of her tits, the flare of her hips and her long slim legs. Sarah found it a shock to find herself getting turned on from looking at another woman.