The Little Black Dress

Flippin' heck! That dress was short. It was plain black, high necked and sleeveless, tapered slightly in at the waist and, like I said, short, very short, if she shrugged her shoulders it would probably lift enough to expose most of her bum. The only other item of clothing she seemed to be wearing was a pair of above the knee black boots with Cavalier style tops and stiletto heels. Her long black hair and eyelashes finished off the very 60s look to a perfectly sexy perfection. Shame she was so young, only around 20 at a guess.

Tor's wedding reception is a very small affair at a local town hall, a large old building that has had a number of reincarnations in its life; from manor house, to private residence, to private school, to military billet, back to private residence and now the town hall. In an attempt to generate an income and cash in on its many rooms and extensive gardens they now conducted weddings and wedding receptions. The wedding venue includes a large hall and a number of smaller rooms on the first floor, we are spread through three or four of the smaller, more intimate, rooms but seemed to have access to the whole floor of this rather rambling place.

There were about 50 people spread between this, the largest of our rooms; where the disco was, the bar and the buffet. These old rooms were all panelled in dark wood and, with the exception of the bar and buffet room, dimly lit with very subdued lighting.

After an hour of chatting to various people, including Tor, and nursing a single drink I wander through to the bar. Little bit of a queue so I join the end and let my eyes wander the room.

Only took me a minute to spot the little black dress standing with her back to me, she's talking to Tor's daughter. It dawned on me that she must be Tor's daughter's college friend Chloe, that made me revise my age estimate down to 18 or 19. Still, the outfit worked and she certainly had the figure and legs for it.

Ten minutes later and I'm sitting outside with my drink, watching the darkening night sky.

'I think you're the only one wearing a suit.'

Turn around to find Chloe standing a few feet to my left. 'Not quite true, but I don't see anything wrong in that.'

'Didn't say there was anything wrong in it, in fact I meant the opposite. I know I'm only nineteen but I like a man in a suit, and it is a wedding, I wish men would make more of an effort.'

She's right in that; most of the women have dressed up, most of the men seemed to have made an effort to dress down.

She shuffled from one foot to the other so I shifted to my right and pointed to the now empty space, 'Would you like to sit down?'

'Thanks.' She sits as far away from me as she can get, which actually isn't that far but it does give her some space, and crosses her legs.

'Chloe isn't it?'

'Yes it is, how did you know?'

'I work with Tor occasionally and she's often talking about her daughter, she's mentioned you as her best friend, I thought it must be you as you seemed close to her, I'm David.'

'Hi David, what are you doing out here?'

I laughed, 'Hi Chloe, just fresh air and looking at the sky.'

She looked up at the now black sky 'Mmmmm.'

For a few minutes we sit there in quiet contemplation, then I become aware of a slight pressure against my leg, a glance down and I realise that her hand is on the bench between us and that her little finger is just touching me.

I consider my options for a moment or two then, turning towards her I laid my left arm along the back of the bench but didn't touch her. She's still sitting looking at the sky. Then, with my other hand, start to very lightly stroke the back of her hand, she doesn't flinch but, in the dim light I could see that her eyes have closed.

Fingertips describing random patterns up and down the warm soft skin of her arm; I can feel the downy hairs lift at the contact, at some point she begins to shiver. Across onto her neck: building the sensations, behind her ear, trace round her earlobe, across her forehead, lightly brush her eyebrows, down her nose, thumb and forefinger follow the curves of her lips; they part and my forefinger slips in to rub across her teeth; she shudders as though a wave of cold air has washed over her. Finger slips out of her mouth, for a second dragging her bottom lip with it, down onto her chin, follow her jawline back to her neck, down and back to her shoulder then those random patterns down her arm.

Once more stroking the backs of her fingers my knuckles brush against the side her thigh, shift what little pressure there is from my fingertips to my knuckles, now stroking up and down her thigh; a change in texture to the skin of her arm, feels elastic, tight. Her dress is so short that when she'd sat down the hem had ended up under her bum, my fingers stroke from the top of her boot to her lower hip, each stroke brought my fingers higher and higher until they're running along the front of her thigh. As they edge down to the even softer, trembling skin of her inner thigh, her leg drops, uncrosses. Her skin now has a totally different feel, so soft I can barely feel it, even feels warmer. I touch her boot one last time then, tantalisingly slowly, move up.

As my fingers edge closer she, almost unconsciously, opens her legs.

At the very faintest of contacts I stop, just a hairs breadth between the side of my leading finger and the hem of her knickers, the scoop of her inner thigh leaves a gap between the material and her leg, an oh so tempting gap, a gap I could slip my finger through; she holds her breath, waiting to see where I go next.

I'm so close that I can feel her moist heat. A heat emanating from that most secret of places.

Finger lifts, ignores temptation, touches the thin barrier over the source of that heat, smallest of rubs up and down; she makes a slight noise at the back of her throat, almost a whimper. Increase the pressure slightly and rub up and down in a gentle rhythm. Push into her pussy just a little, rub up and down the length of her puffy outer lips.

Her breathing quickens and I feel her bum twitching as she lifts against my fingers, the fluttering under her skin intensifies.

I press even harder into her, push against the top of her pussy with my thumb. Two fingers rhythmically pressing her knickers into her pussy whilst the edge of my thumb rubs against her clit. Start quite slowly but, trying to judge her responses, I steadily speed up until my hand is a blur.

Her knickers get wetter and wetter, can feel her moist pussy through the material, the heat pushing out, the hard bump of her clit against my thumb.

As I increase the speed I can feel the sensations building within her, her breathing becomes ragged, gasping. She grabs my forearm and, with a long low moan at the back of her throat, she shivers into an orgasm; her head drops back onto my other arm and her bum clenches tight, she pushes up hard while, at the same time, forcing my fingers against her.

She stays locked like that for a couple of minutes, my fingers jammed into her by her own hand. Then she sighs, relaxes, releases her grip and slumps.

Slowly she sits upright.

In a shaky sleepy voice 'Ooooh, didn't expect that.'

Chuckled, 'Oh, didn't realise that you were expecting anything.'

'Mmmmm, bit naughty but when I sat down I was hoped for something, but used to fumbling fingers. Wasn't expecting that.'.

'Hmmm, when I came here I wasn't expecting to be fumbling with anyone.'.

'Oh believe me, that wasn't fumbling, that was...mmmmm.'.

My hand is still lightly stroking the soft skin of her inner thigh and I feel her shiver, 'Is there any more where that came from?' She almost sounded sheepish.

I chuckled, 'What, now?'.

I felt her pause for a second, as if suddenly unsure of herself. I kept quiet.

'Hmmmm yes?'. There was a lift at the end making it that uncertain question, as though she had maybe asked the wrong thing.

I looked at her silhouette, she wasn't facing me.

Still stroking her thigh, 'Maybe, but definitely no fumbling and not here.'.

Her voice still not certain, 'I don't want fumbling and...where?'.

Another second's pause, 'Come on.'.

I stand and watch her. She looks up at me, can't see her expression, then stands.

'Give it a minute and then follow me.'.

I don't wait for an answer, it's up to her whether or not she comes, but turn and walk towards the front door, a moment later and I hear her light steps on the gravel.

I walk passed the half dozen smokers, through the door and up the main stairs. Pausing at the top I glance back to see that she can still see me, then head down the corridor directly away from the rooms occupied by the wedding reception. Getting to the corner I stop and look back, she's just starting down the corridor.

I wait for her and then, when she gets to me, take her hand and carry on down the corridor. Each time I get to a door I try it: locked, a storeroom, full of furniture, locked. Then success, on flicking a light switch I find we've got a snooker room. The four wall-uplighters just about illuminate the room enough to see the full size table plus several wingback chairs, small tables and other furniture around the walls.

Pulling her in behind me I close and lock the door.

Walking over to the end of the table I turn to her and look into her face; she's looking round the room a little wide-eyed then meets my eyes and blinks.

I step round behind her and stand with my chest against her back, slide my hands down her arms to take hold of her hands, lift them and rest them on the table-edge, she's now bent forward at the waist, push a foot between hers and edge them apart.

Step back and look at her in the dim light: mmmm, the length, or rather the lack of length, of her dress means that even the little she is bent over exposes her bum to me. She is very slim with small taut buttocks and her stance has naturally parted them. The string of a black thong runs from the base of her pussy, bisects the delicious ring of her arse before disappearing under her dress.

Quickly take my jacket, shoes and socks off.

Drop to my knees and put my face as close as I can to her bum without touching her, breath her in; the scent of her perfume mixed with the sweetness of her pussy and the light tang of her arse.

With a very soft touch I put my hands on her ankles; brush my fingers up the soft leather of her boots, then up the backs of her thighs; she is shivering again as my fingers touch her bum, cup her tiny buttocks.

Hook my fingers into the waistband of her thong, slowly peel it down; I find I'm shivering myself as I completely uncover her arse; the perfect circle of her anus: the small triangle peels away from the smooth, sticky lips of her pussy, slide it down her legs, lift each booted foot and slip it off.

Run my hands back up her seemingly endless legs until I once again reach her buttocks, stroke and squeeze them, firm muscles under the smooth skin, fingertips dance over her skin, seek out the nerve endings, tease her senses; her bum, hips, thighs: up and down her legs, search for the softest skin, the most sensitive skin; backs of her knees, inner thighs, circles around her anus, around her pussy, perineum, sides of her hips, lower stomach. She drops onto her forearms, surrenders herself to me. Dancing fingers skipping over her: she's shaking and shivering, moaning and mewling, body twisting as she reacts to my touch.

Her skin feels electric, ready to burst as my tingling fingers start to concentrate their attentions; the fingers of one hand on her tummy just above her clit, the others on her buttocks just either side of her anus and pussy.

She instantly stops moving, as though concentrating. Just a few seconds of this then she starts to vibrate, imperceptible at first but quickly her whole body is shivering then...she freezes, legs rigid, not breathing, holds it in, not a sound, savouring the rippling sensations coursing through her body.

A woosh of air as she exhales, a long groan and she collapses onto the table.

Standing, I take off my trousers and boxers, unbutton my shirt. All the time I'm looking at her, half spread across the table. What a gorgeous sight. Long booted legs going all the up, black hair splayed out, arms spread wide, dress, more like a long tee-shirt really, just about reaches her bum, and what a bum!

Step up to her again, lay my cock between her buttocks, press against her, balls against her pussy, can feel her arse against the underside of my shaft.

Pull my hips back and touch the very tip of my cock to her pussy, squeeze my buttocks and my cock feels it's way into her silky tunnel: she is so wet, so turned on; her head is still fizzing, she barely notices.

I stand like that for a minute or more, just the head of my cock buried in her, my hands on her bum. Then one long, smooth push gets her attention, a sharp intake of breath, a groan and she lifts herself back onto her forearms, looks back over her shoulder.

I watch her face and grind myself against her, push into her as far as I can, can just feel her cervix, rub the very tip of me against it, her head drops and I hear her breathing quicken.

I start fucking her.

Slowly. I want this to last.

Each time I push in it feels like I'm making a new passage, she's not a virgin but she's not had much experience. And I'm not going to pound her.

Short slow grinding turns into long slow straight fucking. Taking her along with me, trying to match her breathing, trying to go at her pace.

Her forehead's down on the table. I'm holding her hips, still feeling my way. She's much wetter now. Her juices lubricating so she's doesn't feel as tight, gone has the feeling of having to push against her, now it's more like a smooth easy glide in and out.

Constantly changing the pace now, from really grinding and twisting to long slow to short fast thrusting.

She's not making much noise, her breath comes in shorts pants, she might gasp if I catch a particularly sensitive spot or sometimes she holds her breath as though concentrating and occasionally she'll mutter something unintelligible.

I start to feel her pussy change; the walls feel warmer, begin to swell: they squeeze me, not in a restrictive way but in a puffed up pillow kind of way. I change to long smooth strokes, fucking every centimetre of her pussy, wanting to feel every gripping, spongy contour of her, wanting her to feel every hard, throbbing contour of me.

Then, in an almost gentle, languid, way, she cums. She sinks back onto the table, stretches out her arms and sighs, she visibly shivers; a shiver that seems to start at her head and flicker right through her body to her fingertips and toes; I feel it pass through her bum and down her legs. When it ends she pulls her arms into her chest and lets out a sighing breath.

Pulling out of her hot embrace I climb up onto the table, crawl into the middle and lay on my side watching her.

After a moment or two she seems to come awake, stretches her arms, splays her long fingers wide. Realising that I'm no longer behind her she looks up and sees me on the table.

With a big smile and shiny dreamy eyes she pushes herself up, then, in a voice dripping with sex, 'What are you doing up there?'

'Waiting for you.'

'Mmmmm, I was hoping you'd say that'.

With a little hop, she sits on the edge, then swings those legs round so that she's on her knees facing me. She slowly, enticingly, straddles my feet then inches her way up, eyes locked on my cock.

As her face comes level with it she looks up into my face, grins, leans down and, in one long slow swipe, runs her tongue from the base all the way up to the tip.

'Mmmmm he tastes of me.'

'And he wants to taste you again.'

She licked her lips, 'I wouldn't want to keep him waiting.' and once more begins to crawl forward.

I can feel the hem of her dress trailing up my legs, her boots brushing against me.

Face above mine she drops onto her forearms, warm breath, hair against the sides of my face, eyes flick to my lips and she kisses me. A soft lipped kiss, sensuous. The tip of her tongue explores my lips, my tongue finds hers, they dance.

Feel her weight shift; her hand between our bodies finds my cock, she breaks the kiss, sits up, adjusts herself. Feel the tip of me touch her heat then, without ceremony, she sinks onto it, all the way until she's sitting on my hips; she gasps, throws her head back and groans. I'd almost forgotten just how tight she was, how hot, how enveloping.

'Fuck, that feels good.'

'You should feel it from down here.'

She closes her eyes, bites her lip and squirms in my lap.' Oh no, I'm quite happy up here.'

'You keep doing that and it won't be for long.' I groan.

She squirms again, 'Mmmmm that's OK, don't think I'm going to need long.'

With that she put her hands on my chest, lifted herself a few inches and drops again,

Shivers, 'Now that really hits the spot.'

I lay back and watch her face as she begins to rock backwards and forwards, rubbing her clit against my pubic bone each time she rocks forward. Each time she rocks back I flex my bum pushing my cock into her.

I try to follow her rhythm but it quickly speeds up then starts to get ragged. Her harsh breathing mixed with loud moans, her face twisting, eyes screwed tight shut. She starts to lose control, tries to keep moving but the sensations tumbling through her defeat her coordination. I grip her waist through her dress and hold her in place, start to thrust up, hips smacking against her bum. Just a dozen or so of those and her arms collapse and she falls forward onto my chest. She twitches and shakes, totally absorbed in her orgasm. She seems to go through two or three; like a roller coaster, with a summit then a trough, her slight frame vibrating against my chest: my cock still buried in her.

As the last one subsides and her breathing settles I roll her over, ending up with her on her back and me between her thighs, hands under her armpits. As I stare into her now calm face I begin to gently move, just my hips, cock moving millimeters inside her. Hardly anything, but enough to stir her.

Heard her murmur, 'Ooh...more'

My cock is on fire, balls about ready to burst as I stroke into her. She grips my biceps and wraps her leather clad legs around my thighs; pulling me in, urging me on.

Hot shaft plunging into her slick pussy, I'm too close to be anything other than animalistic, her cries and sharp nails driving me closer to the edge, no rhythm or style involved, just sheer fucking, my teeth clenched, her head pushed back; both of us growling.

The tingling starts at the back of my balls, spreads in a rush of heat and in one more ploughing thrust I cum; feel the thick spurts, a need to bury myself as deeply in her as I can but know she's close, keep going; stabbing thrusts, then her legs lock; pull me in as hard as she can, nails digging in, her body frozen and yet shivering at the same time, no sound.

My balls have long since given up their last drop but my pelvis is still crushed against hers, cock still jammed against her cervix, I'm panting with the exertions, my arms and thighs shaking with holding myself up for so long.

Then she slumps, releases her breath, her arms drop out across the table, her legs go limp, and I release the tension. Gently pull out, sit back.

I crawl up the table, settle beside her. She opens her eyes.

We stay like that for ten minutes; her flat on her back, me resting on one elbow watching her.

She sighs, 'Oh my fucking god!'

'Mmmmm, couldn't have put it better myself.'

She starts to push herself upright, 'Shit, I can't feel my legs, think you've broken something.'

I laugh, 'Comes to something when a young thing like you can't take a little exercise.'