A few years back, I was having an ongoing fling with a man named Steve. He was divorced, and I had met him in an internet chatroom. He lived in the same city, and it wasn't long before our chats evolved into a casual sexual relationship. I suppose friends with benefits (FWB) would describe it best. He knew I was married, and he respected that our relationship had limits.
It was easy to meet Steve as he worked from home. He always made himself available despite my restrictive schedule. We would meet several times a month, usually when my husband was out of town on business.
One day, I was feeling particularly horny, so we made arrangements to meet at his place. He was very good at getting me hot and bothered with his texts. He knew how to push my sexual buttons. He had sent me several hot and steamy messages that morning. By the early afternoon, I was extremely aroused and I couldn't wait to see him again. It had been three weeks since I last saw him, and I couldn't wait to devour him.
Steve had a domineering side to him, which I found very attractive and exciting. Nothing too wild or crazy. He liked to be in control, and I enjoyed being submissive to him.
Steve took pleasure in telling me what to wear, and I did my best to please him. I was thrilled to have this hot guy interested in me, I wanted to keep it exciting for him as well as myself. Since we always met at his place, it was safe to dress more daringly than I normally would if I were meeting someone in public. I had become comfortable with Steve and his sexual demands. I enjoyed his moderately controlling side. I have always enjoyed pleasing my partners and being submissive.
That day, Steve had requested a short skirt with bare legs and heels. He also requested a see-through blouse with no bra. Of course, that's not something that I normally wear, but I did find an old black sheer blouse in the back of my closet. It was matched with a camisole. Without the camisole, it was very sheer and transparent. But that's all I had, so I forewent the camisole for Steve. Besides, no one but Steve was going to see it. Of course, I wore a short jacket over top to cover up during my drive. A girl needs to be careful after all.
He also requested no panties as an added treat. Again, I obeyed and dressed as I was told. I enjoyed pleasing Steve.
Oh, one last request...glossy lipstick. He loved glossed lips.
I had a quick look in the mirror before leaving, and I couldn't believe how slutty I looked. The blouse was so sheer I might as well have gone topless. My skirt barely covered my ass and the heels were much higher than I regularly wore. There was no question I was dressed for sex. Steve is going to be so happy with me.
This was not me at all. I always dress classy and somewhat conservatively. But today my husband was out of town, and I didn't have to behave or answer to anyone. I could live out my secret life, as I called it.
In my secret life, I could release the inner slut that was oppressed in my normal everyday life. Nobody knew me, and I could be as promiscuous as I wanted. Steve knew how to bring out my inner slut. He had me doing things I would never dream of doing with my husband. I thought Steve was exciting and I was so excited that I would be seeing him soon.
I arrived at his place and knocked on the door. I was excited and aroused to see Steve's reaction to my outfit. I opened up my jacket as I waited. I wanted to make a good first impression.
As soon as Steve opened the door, I removed my jacket and stepped into the hallway to embrace him. Actually, it was more like I threw myself at him. I was all over him. He didn't even get a chance to say hello.
It had been three long weeks since we had sex, and I was horny as hell. As I gave him a lustful wet hello kiss with my glossy lips, I ground my whole body into his. My pelvis was grinding into his hip as my leg lifted up to rub his groin with my knee. My hand found its way into his pants for a handshake, or is that called a cock shake? Yes, I was that horny and aggressive.
Steve instinctively grabbed my bare ass as my raised leg wrapped around him. About 30 seconds into our greeting, Steve peeled me off and stepped back from me. I thought he wanted to have a good look at my outfit. This was the first time I had worn the see-through blouse for him. Instead, he said, "April, I would like you to meet Ryan."
What? Oh shit! As I looked into the living room, there was this guy standing there with a big smile on his face, watching me. I felt like a kid getting caught with her hand in the cookie jar, well, in this case, in Steve's crotch.
I was so embarrassed. I was not only dressed like a slut, but I had thrown myself at Steve. Yikes, I turned beet red. It was quite obvious I was flustered as I hesitantly responded with, "...Oh, nice to meet you."
In an attempt to regain my composure, I reached down to adjust my skirt, which had risen up while groping Steve. Dammit, it was short. I'm sure he just saw my bare ass when Steve was grabbing it. As I stood there in shock, it took me a moment to remember I was wearing a see-through blouse. I quickly crossed my arms as I had thrown my jacket on the floor upon entry.
Steve chuckled at my awkwardness and explained that Ryan was an old friend and that he was just passing by and decided to drop in to say hello.
I was at a loss for words but did manage to say, "OK." How awkward was this? I just wanted to curl up in a ball and hide.
Ryan apologised as he realised he had interrupted our afternoon plans. He motioned to leave, but Steve insisted he stay.
My mind was racing to understand the situation. Why is he asking him to stay? Should I leave? Would that be rude? Should I reach down and grab my jacket off the floor and cover up? I'm not wearing panties. Can I reach down in this tiny skirt and heels without exposing myself or falling over? Hasn't he seen enough? I decided it was best to forego the jacket.
Steve guided me into the living room and motioned that we sit down while he fetched us some drinks. As Steve left for the kitchen, I slowly moved towards the couch. I carefully sat down, trying not to further expose myself. As I sat down, I instinctively held my skirt down in order not to flash Ryan. In doing so, my breasts dangled in my sheer blouse during the process. Ryan looked pleased.
As I sheepishly sat on the couch with my arms and legs crossed, I was still entertaining the thought of bolting out the door. I girlishly lowered my head, hoping to hide behind my hair, but it was way too short to give any kind of coverage for my boobs. I was doing my best to cover up and not expose myself any further.
Ryan sat in a chair opposite the couch and wasn't saying much. Where is this going? I'm going to kill Steve for this. I was never so embarrassed in my life.
I could tell Ryan was just as uncomfortable with the situation as I was. He broke the silence with some small talk about how he had known Steve for many years etc.
I wasn't saying much, just nodding. What could I say? Oh, Steve and I are fuck buddies. Friends with benefits, actually. We recently met on the internet. I'm married by the way and my husband is out of town. Good Gawd, I feel like such a skank.
My mind was racing. Damn my nipples are getting hard. April, remember to keep your legs crossed. My ass is hanging out of this micro mini skirt. Ryan must think I'm a hooker or something. OMG, I have never felt like such a cheap slut. Steve, hurry up and get back in here with that drink. Yes, my mind was in overdrive.
Steve finally returned to the room with the drinks. As he handed me my drink, I again uncrossed my arms to accept it. Damn, I just flashed him my tits again. I wasn't having much luck covering up my breasts. At least it was a stiff drink, just what I needed.
