The Power of Clothing Pt. 08

The battle between them was raging as she felt his hand gently tugging on her vest at the back. He pulled the bottom of it out from her hipster trousers. That wasn't difficult, for there was not much of it tucked in, so it came out easily. Her body was winning. His hand was on the bare skin of her lower back, it was moving upwards, along her spine, towards her bra strap. Up and up her spine, further and further inside her singlet, nearer and nearer to that strap. That seemed to be like a magnet to his hand and a beacon to her body's demands. It reached the strap, his fingers slipped under it. He ran them from one side, round her back to the other. From where it joined one cup to where it joined the other. It seemed so meaningful, so pointed and it felt so enquiring and suggestive. In her mind, Kate was saying yes, go further, do more, touch me more intimately. Well at first she was saying words like that, but as their kiss intensified and as his fingers became more adventurous inside her bra strap, her mind was saying 'Touch my tits, pinch my nipples.' She didn't verbalise that to James, though. Her mind, her 'better self,' her alter ego was still in the game, still trying to persuade her to stop, reminding her that she was a married woman, a mother of two, with a son a similar age to the man whose mouth was clamped to hers, whose hand was on her bra strap and to who Kate's other side was saying, 'Touch my tits.

"No, no James," she groaned, straightening up, thus moving her lips and body away from him, as her mind took control.

"Oh Kate, Kate," he whispered, grabbing her face in his hands, pulling it back and kissing her again, deeply and long.

Her resistance melted. It simply disappeared. Her mind had lost, her body had won. Her mind offered a total surrender as his hand slipped up her singlet, this time at the front, this time right onto the full, roundness of her breasts, this time onto the material of the sports bra and the bare flesh spilling out of the top of it.

She held both sides of his face, quite tight, her nails maybe digging into the top of his neck. She squirmed her widely parted lips firmly against his, met his tongue with hers and, as a sign of her mind's capitulation and her body's total victory, she pressed her breast against his hand.

James sensed that Kate had changed her mind, as many girls and most older women do, he smiled, recognising the familiar signs. He knew that he now had to be bold, to take her along quickly if he was going to get the ultimate prize from Kate.

James adored older women. He not only adored them, but specialised in seducing them. And when he did seduce them, at the time, he really did love them. It was just that after he had fucked them several times, the love wore off and it was just sex and he could get that anywhere, so he moved on. The time between the seduction and the moving on varied. It could be as short as the day after, it had been as long as a year. A significant influence on the length of time was the woman's attitude. The more they came on about loving him, the shorter time he stayed around.

James also had a really big thing for sports bras. Sure, he also loved frilly, lacy, silky stuff. Sure he liked low-cut bras, see-through cups, tiny thongs and brief panties, but to him a full, supportive sports bra was the sexiest garment a woman could wear. He had no idea why he had this particular penchant and didn't really care much; he just thanked his lucky stars that he was in such a job.

'Sure let's have affection in the relationship, even love when in bed, but asking about plans for the future and the bleating of some who insisted on asking "You do really love me don't you," simply hastened the end. He knew that some needed that to overcome the guilt of cheating, but he wasn't a fucking counsellor was he, just a randy young personal trainer? And wasn't seducing older women clients almost part of the job description. 'Come on babe,' he and his mates had often had to say to the tearful, almost pitiful, forty something year old's with mascara running down their cheeks as the PTs told them it was over, 'Get real.'

As his hand closed round Kate's gorgeous breast inside the sports bra, he hoped she would last the course better than most. As he slipped his fingers inside the cup and experienced that fantastic sensation of touching a new lover's tit flesh and nipple for the first time, he really hoped, but doubted, she would know the game.

Kate groaned with sublime pleasure and quivering excitement as she felt the young man's fingers inside her bra. It was always a wonderful feeling, she was thinking , when a new lover touches your bare breast flesh for the first time. Hey hold on, he's only the second man to do this, other than my husband in so many years, I must have read too many books, she smiled, leaning forward a little and taking a deep breath as he pulled each breast out from the restrictive confines of the firm bra. Almost giggling she though 'Here we go again,' as she recalled Stephen doing the same thing just a few months ago, 'Must be habit forming.'

He rolled the singlet up and looked at her breasts. Even in the dim light and squashed from underneath by the tops of the cups, they looked fabulous. He stroked each one in turn, letting out a few sighs and some low moans as she whispered.

"Oh Kate they are fabulous, perfect, so beautiful."

"Oh James, are they? Are they really?" Kate moaned back, badly needing such reassurance.

"They are truly beautiful," he whispered, then using a verbal trick he had heard in a film. "Thank you so much for letting me see them," adding as he looked deeply in her eyes and gently pinched her nipples. "Thank you Kate for sharing your breasts with me."

The words tore through her. They destroyed any slight reservations she may have been harbouring, she was his, he had won and at that moment, Kate knew she would commit adultery for the first time in her life, with this man who was young enough to be her son.