In part seven, we heard about how the lack of clothing, Marcia's panties, promotes and encourages sexual behaviour. Here we take that further and see how it has affected her and the men around her.
Chapter 1
Marcia's penchant for going without knickers started the third or fourth time she and Kevin fucked. That was nearly ten years ago, she was thinking at his daughter Sammi's recent twenty-first birthday party. There, somewhat to their disappointments, they couldn't get together. Instead, she had fucked Gareth, a city trader, who she had been having sex with for broadly the same time. Kevin was now fifty- three, Marcia forty-three and Gareth thirty- two. Marcia enjoyed fucking both the older and younger man and was particularly intrigued by the fact that Gareth was Kevin's son by his first wife.
Kevin is married to Amanda, one of Marcia's best friends. Gareth is one of those phenomenally successful city traders, unfathomably earning several hundred thousand pounds a year. He has no discernable skill, little knowledge and didn't' do well enough at school to get a place at uni. Odd world he and people who knew him often thought.
Marcia is the daughter of near aristocracy, which she terms 'fucking old landed gentry.' Old, boring and stuffy her family may be, but they were also stinking rich and that she liked. She was married to the gorgeous Stephen Masters, one of the most eminent consultant psychologists in Europe. His consultancy work, book writing and lecturing activities added another couple of million a year to the two or three she got in dividends from the family companies and from her investments.
Stephen is in his early fifties and has longish, blonde hair, turning grey. He's tall, slim and fit is excellent in bed and apart from with hookers and escort girls, who don't count, he has always been faithful to Marcia. That cannot be said for Marcia. She has been unfaithful since they met, but then Marcia's ideas of faithfulness, differ to most 'normal' and for normal read poor, people. She considers herself to be emotionally, but not physically faithful. In the rarefied atmosphere and thinking of the mega rich, that is all that matters, loosely interpreted it means 'I'm rich so I can do what I fucking well like and if you don't like it, up your's;' nice people generally, the stinking rich.
Chapter 2.
"You know I have wanted to fuck you since the moment we met," Kevin said at his and Amanda's housewarming party.
Marcia smiled. "Yes of course, I have," she replied walking down the path towards the pool, feeling his arm go round her waist and his hand rest on her bum.
They stopped and kissed.
They were far enough away from the house for it to be difficult if not impossible for anyone to see them. Not so far, though, that they couldn't hear the music, the buzz of conversation and the occasional laughter or raised voice.
He cupped one of her small, almost non-existent breasts, which surprisingly really aroused him.
The surprise, on the face of it, coming from the fact that his wife, one of Marcia's best friends, had big tits. Now that is, but not when Kevin first seduced her when she was just twenty working in an ad agency, which represented his company. Amanda had broken the cardinal ad industry rule, 'never fuck the client' or, more to the point with young, female copywriters, 'never let the client fuck you.' She not only let the client fuck her, and over a desk in the agency after a late meeting, but she also married him.
After Sammi was born, her neat little b cup boobies and thirty five inch hips both swelled and for the past few years she had sported a pair of devastating d cups and an ample thirty seven inches of hips and arse.
Kevin found that all a bit distasteful. He had never been faithful to Amanda, but as her 'tits and ass' grew he, almost in perfect correlation to her expansion, had a succession of affairs, long, short, mid-term and one nighters. His 'floosies,' as Amanda called them when she occasionally found out or had suspicions, had two main things in common, apart from easily openable legs and knickers that were surprisingly easy to get into: they were all young, under twenty five, and had stick insect-like figures with 'pimples for tits.'
They strolled round the corner of the pool changing room, out of sight of the party. He pushed her back against the wall and they kissed longer and deeper.
"Fuck I haven't got the key," he said patting his pockets.
"What's wrong with alfresco?" She asked grabbing his erection through his thin linen trousers.
"Not a thing, you horny bitch," he replied, shoving his tongue deep into her mouth.
He pulled one of the straps of the ankle-length dress down her arm and pushed and stroked, squeezed and pinched her tits, before leaning forward and sucking the long, dark nipples into his mouth. She undid his shirt then his zip. She bit his nipple, quite hard.
"Hey steady, that hurt." Marcia laughed.
"Just be careful I don't leave scratch marks right down your back, you bastard, cheating on my best friend."
They both laughed.
He pulled her long skirt up; she wasn't wearing tights, just panties. He slid his hand between her thighs and lifted his thumb so that it pressed right into the gusset of the panties covering her pussy lips.
"Mmmm," she murmured. Kevin wasn't sure whether that was due to what he was doing or, because she had taken hold of his bare, hard cock. Maybe a bit of both he thought.
He pressed his erection against her and wiggled his hand into the elastic of the waistband of her panties. He started to pull them down. As her pubes and pussy were exposed to the air, Marcia felt an even more urgent surge of arousal than what she was getting from holding his throbbing cock. She grabbed his hand when her knickers were half-way down her thighs.
"That's far enough," she said sharply, used to always being in control in her relationships.
"What don't like the open air?" He replied pushing her knickers down past her knees.
"Just shut up and fuck me smartarse," Marcia said helping Kevin push his trousers and pants down a little.
Kevin smiled, but did nothing further other than push his finger right against her clit, then ease two up inside her.
"Nice?" He asked hearing her grunt and feeling her body jerk.
"Yes," she grunted, grabbing his cock again.
She guided it towards her eager pussy. They kissed as it brushed against her lips and then she grunted and he groaned as he thrust his hips forward surging his cock deep inside her. Marcia lifted one leg up and wrapped the calf and ankle round the back of Kevin's legs. They were now kissing furiously as their arousal and passion grew. He was pounding into her, she was squirming herself back against him. His hands were all over her breasts, the top of her dress now being completely open: her's were running up and down his back, slightly scratching it, worrying Kevin that she might carry out her earlier threat.
"Oh fuck yes," she grunted. "Harder, fuck me harder," she moaned grabbing his arse and digging her fingernails into the pliant flesh.
"You horny cow," he replied, surging himself as far into her as he could go and then holding himself rigid in there as she writhed against his hardness, in effect fucking herself.
