The Power of Clothing Pt. 09

Amanda was a little in awe of the somewhat 'larger than life' Marcia. Although she came from a comfortable background, she had been brought up to be conservative and considered in how she behaved. She was slightly introvert and hated being the centre of attention or losing control over herself.

Until recently, she was convinced that she and Kevin were for life and that there was no other man for her. She had, since they had first started together when she was a young copywriter and he was her client, believed that they were made for each other. The birth of their daughter Sammi had made her commitment stronger and her belief more convincing. Both of those, however, had been knocked badly over the past two years when she had found out that he had been unfaithful to her. Now, she was seeing the signs again of his unfaithfulness and she was pretty sure he was 'at it' again.

Amanda and Marcia had become fairly close in the way that opposites attract, probably. Amanda found her easy to talk to and appreciated her no nonsense and decisive views on issues, which was so different to her approach. She found Marcia to be a little outrageous, liked her don't give a damn attitude and the manner in which, whatever the company and circumstances, she was always in control.

They hadn't taken the round of golf very seriously for it was warm and they talked too much. Marcia had also been a little distracted by the tightness of Amanda's golf top, which showed her spectacular breasts off marvellously. Amanda was not aware that Marcia often dabbled with ladies and that it was large breasts which we her particular attraction. Marcia was equally unaware that Amanda had also had some experience of her own gender, but that was a long time ago in her teens. Despite that, Amanda still had little rushes of arousal when she saw a particularly attractive woman, a flash of too much breast or leg or when a female came onto her, by touch or by holding her gaze just that tad too long.

Standing behind Marcia as she played her shots from the classic golf pose of, nearly straight legs, a slight bend at the waist and the bum pushed out Amanda, couldn't help her gaze being drawn to her friend's beautifully shaped and perfectly proportioned bottom. Each time she looked, she felt little rushes of a warm tingling feeling, but, for the first few holes, all of which she won, other than the lovely shape, Amanda couldn't work out why Marcia's bum was affecting her so much. Standing behind her on the fourth green as Marcia putted, it suddenly hit Amanda like a blow to the stomach. 'She's not wearing knickers. There's no VPL or ridges or anything.' She didn't win many more holes.

Chapter 5

Marcia met Kevin for dinner at the Connaught, his favourite London restaurant. It was a little risky, for both of them knew many people that might eat there, but then as Kevin had said down the phone. "What the fuck, let's live dangerously."

She hadn't quite forgiven him for what had happened last time they had met. On reflection, it wasn't ruining her AP panties, that didn't really matter; it was the way that he had taken control of her. 'Tying me up for fuck's sake, how dare he, without my permission?' She had thought when she was determined not to see him again. That hadn't lasted long. She wasn't having that much success with new conquests and Kevin was a real goer, very much like her, seemingly up for anything with an adventurous attitude and approach. 'How many men would fuck a guest at his and his wife's housewarming party?' She had asked herself several times adding. 'And just outside the party, up against a wall where they could so easily have been caught.' Smiling at the rhetorical question, she had answered it the same way several times. 'Not many.'

The food was excellent and the service brilliant, but the whole place was stuffy and extraordinarily pompous. They were getting on well and had started playing footsie under the table, which was covered in a long, almost down to the floor, crisp, white tablecloth. 'Designed for rubbing your partner's leg' she thought, slipping her Jimmy Choo shoe off and running her stockinged toe inside Kevin's trouser and up his bare leg.

"So you survived the tube journey with no knickers did you?" He asked, just loud enough for the people at the next table to hear, if they were listening.

"Yes, no thanks to you, you crazy bastard," she replied at about the same decibel level.

Smiling as he swallowed a piece of lobster and sipped his Mersault, Kevin placed his hand on the back of hers and said, in if anything a slightly louder voice.

"Darling you say the most romantic things."

Also smiling and gripping his hand she replied. "Don't you fucking darling me."

They finished their main courses and Marcia announced. "I'm going to the lavatory."

"You will be coming," Kevin said pausing meaningfully on coming and making it sound like cumming, as he smiled, glanced at the older people on the next table, and added. "Back won't you, my sweet."

"Fuck off," she snarled, actually quite pleased with the mischief.

Kevin followed her progress across the elegant, wood panelled and slightly old-fashioned dining room. Her slim form with her gorgeous arse cut a fine picture, not just for him, but also for several other watchers, he noted feeling proud she was with him.

Marcia was wearing a knee-length, deep purple or mauve, clingy dress. It had buttons all the way up the front. Kevin had noted when they had met in the bar earlier that there was three buttons open at the top, showing a nice expanse of her tanned chest and a small part of her tiny breasts. He could see she wasn't wearing a bra. Sitting on the bar stool, the heel of one of the strappy, ludicrously expensive shoes from the new rave designer Jimmy Choo, hooked on the stool-rail, the other on the floor, Marcia was showing quite a lot of black, fishnet covered leg. It looked good and made Kevin feel even more horny than he had been all day in anticipation of the evening with her.

He had ordered her a Pernod and himself a Scotch and had run his eyes up and down her slim, almost boy-like figure; he liked women like that and not as his wife Amanda had become, voluptuous.

He liked the way that she was so assured and confident as if places such as The Connaught, one of the most established and expensive hotels in London, were her natural habitat. On second thoughts, Kevin realised, they probably were! Perched on the bar stool, her slim back ramrod straight, her legs crossed she was smoking a smelly Gauloise. The skirt of her dress had fallen aside from the two open buttons.

Kevin was again able to watch her progress across the room. 'Fuck, look at the leg she's showing' he thought feeling that he had seen the start of a stocking top. He had certainly seen something else, though.

"Feel better now darling," he asked standing up and holding her chair as she returned to even more stares from the largely businessmen diners.

"Much, thank you sweety," Marcia replied sitting down.

"The buttons just come undone on their own did they?"

She smiled, pleased that he had noticed. "No, why would they? I just like flashing me bits now and then."

"Well you certainly did that," Kevin replied as the waiter approached them for their dessert orders.

She waited a while as they chatted away. Just as the elderly, French waiter was approaching the table, she leaned forward, making the top of her dress gape more, and said quite loudly again. "I have a present for you, darling."

"Oh that's nice, what is it?" He replied, genuinely pleased and hugely curious.

Reaching her hand out so it was over his menu, which was lying on the table, Marcia paused there for a moment and then opened her fingers.

Just as the waiter arrived, the three of them stared at what she had dropped. Smiling and not at all concerned, Marcia said. "There you are darling, my present, what you ripped last time you fucked me."

Considering everything, all three of them handled the situation well. Marcia smiled and took a swig of wine, Kevin slowly picked up the delicate, white lace thong and the waiter said, very drily.

"Will madam or sir be requiring anything further."

Chapter 6.

"You stupid, fucking, dirty bitch," he said laughing as he parked the Aston Martin in a pull off from the road round the back of Highgate Cemetery, quite near to the area where Karl Marx is buried.

"You say the most charming things," she replied, her hand inside his trousers, which she had opened driving along Holloway Road.

He leaned across the central console and kissed her. She immediately opened her mouth and pushed her tongue against his. He slid his hand in the top of her dress, cupped her breast and pinched her already inflated nipple. She pushed the top of his trousers aside and pulled his shirt tail out, thus making room to slip her hand inside his boxers and find his cock. It felt good.

"Mmmmm nice," he said putting his hand on her knee. The fishnet felt very sensual indeed, especially when he started sliding his hand upwards, especially when he reached the stocking tops, especially when he felt that patch of skin above them and extra especially when Marcia slowly parted her legs.

It was tight, but there was just about enough room. It was awkward, a little cramped and hard to move, but they could just make it. He was sitting in the passenger seat with Marcia on his lap facing him. She was able to slide one leg between the seat and the door, and the other up and over the central console and between the two seats. Her dress was undone to the waist, but beneath that it covered both of them.

"So any nosy fucker that looks in won't see a thing will they?" Kevin had said as they manipulated themselves into the positions.

"Only my tits," Marcia said, excited by the prospect of having sex in a car; it had been a long time since she had been shagged like that.

"Don't worry, they wouldn't notice," Kevin joked truthfully, but rather hurtfully.

"Lift up a bit," he said placing his hand on her hips.

She raised herself as he reached down and held his erection away from his body. "Now come down," Kevin said, adding "Fuck it," when he found the angle was wrong. He shuffled further forward in the seat, still holding his cock and pressing it enquiringly against her lips. They both laughed as again they couldn't get it in.

"It reminds me now, why I gave up fucking in the front of a car," Kevin said.

Her head was pressed against the low roof of the sports car, it hurt and was uncomfortable.

"Let me down a bit, this is awful." Marcia moaned.

"Shit I think I'm getting cramp." Kevin told her.

"Oh fuck it," Marcia said opening the door. She wiggled her way out. "Come on."

He followed.

"It was good enough the first time, it'll be good enough now," she said, leaning back against the car and undoing the rest of the buttons on her dress. There was, of course, no bra, but what gave Kevin the biggest kick was that there were no panties either, she was naked apart from the self-support stockings.

"So you horny bitch," he said ramming his cock into her eagerly waiting hole. "You did take them off in The Connaught?"

"No" she grunted the sensation from his sudden thrust deep inside her taking her breath away. "I wasn't wearing them all the time. I haven't worn panties since the day you ripped them, remember that?"