The Power of Clothing Pt. 05

No series of stories about the effect clothing can have on a person's sex life, could be complete without a look at corsets.

In this Jo does more than look.

Chapter 1

Jo was lying on her front. Her head was turned to her left, away from the centre of the massive, king-sized bed, her eyes were closed. A thin, crisp, white cotton sheet was draped across her legs midway between her knees and her bum. Under that, she was naked.

A sigh slipped from her mouth as she felt the back of a fingernail move slowly up her spine. It slithered between her shoulder blades, up her neck, into her hair and gently caressed the crown of her head. The sigh was deeper and longer as the nail retraced its path downwards. It became a groan accompanied by a slight wiggle of her body as it moved over her waist and slid into the crease of her fulsome arse. She turned her face to the right, opened her eyes and smiled just before Marcia's mouth closed over her lips.

Chapter 2

Jo was a career woman. Marcia was a rich bitch with no inclination to, or interest in, work. Jo was in her late twenties, Marcia her middle. Jo was a bachelor girl, Marcia a married woman with children. Marcia came from a wealthy and pampered background, Jo made her own way in the world. There were lots of differences, but some similarities. They both played golf, rather well as it happens, and tennis, where Jo was a star, having almost got into Wimbledon in her teens, they belonged to the same club and both were bisexual.

They hadn't played golf much together until being paired in a tournament. It had been difficult to arrange due to Jo's work commitments, but after several reschedules it had been fixed for a Sunday afternoon. They played well and they formed a good team. They also got on well and had a convincing, 5 and 4, win against a couple from another club.

"Why not come back to my place for a drink and a bite," Marcia had said in the changing rooms, pausing for a moment before adding with a smile "To eat that is of course?"

Surprised at the double entendre, Jo looked up from where she was untying her golf shoes and caught Marcia's gaze. It was more intense than she would have imagined, there was a quizzical, half-smile on the older woman's face as she said.

"It's just down the road in Hampstead."

Jo was intrigued and, she had to admit, flattered. It wasn't often, she thought, that a working girl like her from a very ordinary background gets invited to the home of multimillionaires. She also felt a surge of excitement for it also wasn't often that a stylish, sophisticated and attractive woman seemed to be coming on to her. Was she, Jo wondered?

"You sure, Marcia, I don't want to put you to any trouble."

"You won't Jo, I promise," Marcia said, holding that same smile on her face as she slipped her white Dryjoys off.

"Ok then thanks, I'll just get a quick shower," Jo said, starting to move towards the pile of towels.

Marcia caught her by her shoulder and stopped her. She looked right into Jo's eyes, somewhat unsettling the younger woman, as she said.

"We can do that there, come on let's go."

It was an impressive, Georgian house in the Frognal area of Hampstead, not far from the Heath.

"All by myself this evening, Stephen's at some fucking, damn fool conference, or shagging his big titted medical assistant," Marcia announced when they were in the beautifully decorated and furnished house.

Jo knew that Marcia's husband, who she had met a couple of time at golf club functions, was a hugely successful medical consultant, but didn't know his area of specialisation. She had, though, fancied him like hell and, if he hadn't been 'so close to home she could have been tempted, although she had to remind herself, he hadn't offered anything.

Although, as the National Sales Manager for the leading health club group in the UK, Jo was used to expense account largesse and corporate spending, the lavish nature of the home, its furnishings, the paintings and everything about the house, which Jo guessed had to be worth several millions, almost overwhelmed her. As, equally, did Marcia's behaviour. She really was the epitome of the ideal rich. Selfish, self-centred, arrogant, seemingly without a care in the world and couldn't really give a fuck what anyone thought about her, but fun and nice.

It hadn't, therefore been that difficult for Jo to succumb to Marcia's advances.

Jo had some quite clear guidelines about her sex life. She avoided commitment like the plague . She didn't want any and was not prepared to offer any; emotional commitment and the sort of high-flying career she wanted and was carving out for herself were not easy bedfellows. Largely for that reason, she generally went with married men. She tended to restrict her relationships to about six weeks, avoided dipping her ink in company ink and mostly she met her men in hotels when she was away on business.

Marcia didn't fit closely with any of those guidelines. She was, however, attractive, sexy, provocative, seemingly available and clearly wanted Jo.

Jo was attracted to her. Not just physically, but also emotionally. She liked the 'don't give a damn' attitude, the easy way and her haughtiness. She also responded to Marcia's quite clear interest in her as more than a golf partner, more than a friend and more than a colleague. She liked the way that Marcia was up front about her desire. It had taken only hour or so of being in Marcia's home before the older woman had been coming on to Jo and telling her how attractive she found her.

In the way that gay men and lesbian women seem instinctively to recognise 'their own' so both Marcia and Jo seemed to immediately recognise 'something' in the other. Maybe it was holding the other's gaze just a moment longer than necessary or standing slightly closer than 'straight' women usually do, possibly making some light touches on the others arm or the slightly flirting, double entendre phrasing of their chats.

"What can I get you to drink?" Marcia asked.

"I'd better just have water, I'm driving."

"Don't worry about that, I'll get Gordon, our treasure to take you home, if you have a little too much."

Jo thought quickly. She was in the office tomorrow and could go there by cab and then pop round here after to collect her car, it was only a few miles.

"And that way Jo, you'll have to come back won't you?" Marcia said, softly.

Flustered by the pace and the obviousness of the come on, Jo stammered. "Er yes, yes I suppose so."

"What you'll have too much to drink or will come back?" Marcia asked quickly, again flashing that smile at Jo.

That made Jo smile and she replied. "We'll see, how about a white wine?"

"Great, Chablis Ok?"

Marcia made the drinks and returned to the conservatory off the dining room. It looked out onto a surprisingly large garden for such an expensive area as Hampstead.

"It's quite a suntrap and totally secluded, perfect for sunbathing, topless or otherwise." Marcia informed Jo after seeing her 'prey' looking out to the garden.

"Really?" Jo said, slightly embarrassed, standing in the open doorway of the conservatory looking into the garden and seeing what Marcia meant. She felt Marcia close behind her.

"Yes, I sunbathe here quite often, both topless and nude." She said feeling pretty confident she was winning with her seduction.

She had picked the career woman, ex top tennis player, confirmed bachelor girl as a potential lover, some time ago. She hadn't pushed things and had let fate take its course. That had served her well in the past as it seemed to be doing now.

Marcia was completely bi. She got equal pleasure from both sexes, including from her husband Stephen, a couple of longer term 'boy-friends,' the odd male pick up, particularly much younger than her ski instructors and tennis coaches, from a girl friend in Brighton and the occasional pick up such as Jo.

She came from an extremely wealthy background, having inherited millions from her grandparents and Stephen, her top of the pile consultant psychologist husband, earned in excess of two million pounds a year. The children were off her hand, as if actually they had ever been on them having been sent to boarding schools from the age of eight. They had several houses including the Hampstead, London Home, an estate in Norfolk, where Marcia spent a lot of her time, a ski lodge and a couple of holiday homes.

She had never worked, was totally spoiled and if truth be told, she had never had to think of others at all. Almost her total concentration was on her own needs; usually she satisfied those almost effortlessly as she was thinking she was going to now with Jo.

She stood close to Jo, too close really, so close they could smell each other. The mix of perspiration with expensive perfumes was oddly erotic, to both of them.

"You like?" She asked?

"What?" Jo replied also gaining the smell and feeling Marcia's closeness.

"Oh the garden, the house, sunbathing, topless or nude, whatever, me?"

"Yes of course," Jo stammered, now pretty sure this was a seduction.

"Pity the sun's gone."

"Why?"

"Well then we could have sunbathed." Marcia said quietly putting her hand on Jo's shoulder.

"Yes."

"Topless or nude even?"

"Yes," Jo gulped.

She felt Marcia's hand run down her bare arm and take hold of her hand as the older woman said, rather huskily. "And that, Jo, would have avoided me having to undress you wouldn't it?"

Marcia held her breath as she pulled on the younger woman's hand turning her round. Jo let the pressure turn her as she said. "Yes Marcia it would wouldn't it?"

Game, set and match.

Chapter 3

Jo had been in a series of both internal and client meetings when she rang for a cab at six fifteen the next evening. She was wearing her 'business uniform,' a grey, thin wool, pin-stripe power suit, trousers and a hip length jacket, white button up blouse and heels. She was continuously on her mobile and glancing at her laptop on the slow cab ride through north London on her way to collect her car from Marcia's house.

"I may be in so give the bell a ring, if I'm not Gordon will give you the keys," Marcia had said when Jo had left with Gordon at around ten the previous evening, feeling slightly drunk and well fucked.

It took a few moments before the door opened. It was Marcia. She was standing behind the door, which she opened a little further

"Hi babe, come on in," she said opening the door and standing behind it.

Jo walked in past the door and Marcia.

"Hi," she said turning, her eyes opening in surprise.

Marcia was standing holding the door with one hand, and the lapels of shorty, red, silk dressing gown with the other. As their eyes met, Marcia let go of the gown, which fluttered open. She was naked under it.

As she moved towards the still shocked Jo, she said.

"I thought this time I would undress you babe."

Jo hadn't expected Marcia to be in, let alone coming on to her again. Despite Marcia's protestations of having strong feelings for Jo as she had sucked the younger woman's nipples last night, Jo hadn't expected to see her again. Bi flings often were just one offs.

Marcia took hold of Jo's hand and, without further ado, led her up the stairs to her bedroom, slipping the robe off just as they got to the bed. Marcia was slim to the point of being thin. She hardly had breasts, simply two small bumps and dark nipples, which Jo knew were tremendously sensitive.

She stood close to Jo, looking her up and down.

"The real successful business woman look, eh Jo. You look lovely," she said, running the backs of her fingers across Jo's cheek, down her neck and onto her chest coming to rest on the top button of her blouse. "Slip your jacket off love," she whispered undoing the top button.

Jo did that as Marcia undid more buttons.

"Wow, baby, what have we got here?" She said as she pulled the blouse apart.

"I wear them sometimes," Jo said as Marcia stared at the white basque.

"And very lovely it is too," Marcia said slipping the blouse off and moving closer as her fingers went first to the clip on the waistband of Jo's trousers and then, after undoing that, to the zip. She slid it down and said very firmly.

"Take them off Jo."

Jo slipped her trousers off.

"Well, well, you are a crafty little bitch aren't you? Talk about s wolf in sheep's clothing," Marcia said walking round the younger woman.

Jo was wearing the white basque, with a diaphanous, white bra and thong, black, fishnet, self-support stockings and high heels. She looked wanton and wonderful.

Marcia wrapped her arms round Jo from behind. She cupped the younger woman's small, pert breasts and pressed her naked stomach against Jo's bum. That was a little on the large side, giving her a slight 'pear shape' look, not untypical of English women. She undid Jo's bra, removed that and slid the thong down Jo's thighs leaving Jo to wiggle it down past her knees and off. Marcia turned her round and held her with both hands on Jo's shoulders. She pulled her close and went to kiss her.

"You really are a sexy little slut aren't you? You look fucking fabulous."

They kissed for some time both writhing their bodies against the other, until Marcia said. "Right, get on that bed, Jo, it's time for me to fuck you again. I think we'll leave the basque and stockings right where they are.

Chapter 4

Until just on a year ago, Jo had never worn a basque. One of her married lovers had bought it for her. After they had had sex in a hotel bedroom he had blindfolded her and put one on her; a typical male fantasy, rather crass, crimson and black lace job. Whilst the look hadn't done much for Jo, the tightness of it round her body and the feel of being restricted in it had. It had done so much that she had then knelt for him, her face buried in the bed, her bum in the air and she had let him fuck her arse; something that she normally reserved for very special occasions.

The basque, not the anal adventure, had started something in her. She wanted 'that feel' so she bought a number of basques, waspies and bustierres, searching for even more of a buzz. She found that when she wore them, especially with sexy thongs and bras, she felt better, more feminine, sexier, more of a woman. She liked the feel of them pulling in her waist, which since she had stopped serious tennis had expanded to around twenty seven inches. She liked the feel of the material on her skin, she liked being tight and restricted. She liked the way they made her rather nondescript figure, look rounded and curved, voluptuous even. And she liked the look on a man's face when, like Marcia, they undressed her to reveal her secret.

Chapter 5

Their earlier sex had been quick, urgent demanding and rather mechanical. There hadn't been much kissing, hardly any tenderness and little talking. Today it was totally different.

Yesterday, after Marcia had made her intentions known to Jo, they had embraced and caressed each other outside their golf clothes, shorts and polo shirts. Marcia had pulled away a little and had removed her shirt, she wasn't wearing a bra. Jo followed suit and removed her bra as well. Looking at each other they slid their shorts off and stared at each other in just their panties.

Today, Marcia had undressed Jo, they had kissed and were talking.

Last night they hadn't gone to Marcia's bedroom, but instead laid on the sofa embraced, pressing their nipples together and running their hands over the other's body.

Now, Marcia lay with Jo on her bed and they kissed and embraced, slowly and patiently.

Yesterday's sex had been about fingers and hands, probing and pressing, finding nipples and clits and sliding into the other providing surrogate cocks to fuck eager, willing cunts.

Today, Marcia slithered her face down Jo's body, pausing to attend to the needs of the younger woman's small breasts as Jo, ran her hands through Marcia's hair.

In the previous sex, the furthest down either face went was on the other's breasts and nipples. Today, Marcia went all the way watching with enormous pleasure as Jo parted her thighs to accommodate her face and mouth. The feel of the fishnet on her face and shoulders added to the sensuality of the situation, if shoving your tongue up another woman needs anything to be added.

Yesterday, Marcia had led the way and been in control of everything. Now, Jo returned her oral advances loving the taste, smell and feel of Marcia's wet, smooth, hot lips on her tongue. Yesterday, Marcia had fucked Jo. Today they fucked each other. Yesterday they both had one orgasm, today they each had several.

Yesterday, Marcia hadn't touched Jo's bum, today she was sliding her finger along the deep crevice between the cheeks of Jo's ample arse.

"You like that?"

"Mmmm, yes, I do," Jo replied, worrying a little when she felt Marcia's weight leaving the bed. "What?"

"Shush, baby, I'll be right back, give me a second."

"Oh God, what the hell's that?" Jo asked.

"Almond oil, warmed up and lovely." Marcia replied as she poured the oil between Jo's cheeks.

It felt gorgeous and nothing like anything Jo had experienced before. She groaned with pleasure, opening her legs wider and, to Marcia, invitingly. She groaned louder when she felt Marcia's fingers back in her crease, rubbing the warm oil into her skin, particularly that brown puckered area around her anus. Marcia didn't restrict herself to staying outside either and Jo's body jerked as a finger slid inside a little. Her loudest and deepest groan, though, came when she heard and then felt the vibrator pressing right against her hole. She felt Marcia's hand, the one not holding the vibrator, slide under her waist and pull.

"Lift up baby, kneel for me, it will be better like that."

Jo knew that and she took up the same position she'd adopted when Tom had fucked her arse. That time it had been a man fucking her bum with his cock, this time it was a woman fucking it with a vibrator. Both times had resulted from her wearing a basque and both times Jo had cum very heavily.

Chapter 6

Smoking a cigarette as they lay together on the bed, her arm round Jo, whose face was resting on Marcia's almost non-existent breast, Marcia asked.

"So what's with the basque Jo?"

"How do you mean?"

"Well, as lovely as it is and as sexy as you look, it's not a very usual undergarment, is it?"

After a little sparring, Jo eventually explained her feelings about the basque.

"I understand what you mean Jo. Even though I don't get those feelings, I know that many women do. Have you thought of getting a corset?"

"No, I hadn't why?"

"Well I have a friend who makes them."

"What corsets?" Jo asked, her interest perked.

"Yes."

"I had never thought about that."

"Greta gets so much work they must be very popular. I'll give you her website and details. If you want to contact her let me know, I'll call her for you."

Over the next week or so, the idea of a corset was never far from Jo's mind. The mere thought of just how tight it could be, how restricted she would feel, how small her waist might be and how voluptuous, curvy and feminine her body would be, was never far from Jo's mind.

"Be more feminine than you ever imagined you could be."

That was the first message that came up on Jo's screen in her office when she visited the Greta's website.

Following that, there was some narrative about corsetry and Greta's services and some fantastic photos of models wearing her creations. The clinching persuasion for Jo was the line 'restrict your waist by at least three and up to six inches." The mere thought of maybe having a twenty one inch waist and the effect that would have on her figure was enough to make Jo feel very sexy. That was nearly enough to coax her to touch herself, something she never did at work, it was enough, though, to persuade her to click the 'I am interested, please send more details.'