The Red Dress

The red dress caught his eye immediately. Sleeveless, very low-cut, knee-length, with a slit at the front extending halfway up her thighs ...

The woman wearing it was not young by any means, but tall, fair-haired, and with a body and legs that the dress showed off to perfection. She was wearing matching high-heeled red shoes, sandals really, toenails, fingernails, lips, all painted the same shade of red. Her legs were bare, a knee and a stretch of thigh emerging provocatively from the slit whenever she moved, breasts swelling from the top of her dress, probably helped by an uplift bra, he thought.

'Do you know her? Is she a member here?' a breathless voice said by his side.

'Yes, she's a member,' he answered, his eyes still fixed on the woman in red.

'Is she -- available? Open to suggestion?'

He glanced at her. The contrast couldn't have been greater. Short, iron-grey hair, a severe black dress, sheer black stockings, but not unattractive. She seemed a little drunk.

He smiled. 'You'd have to ask her.'

'I think I might join the club. If only to find out if she'd -- like to do things ...'

'The club' was the local tennis club. The president, Tony Parker, was throwing a party to celebrate his birthday, and the evening was going well, a few couples dancing, a Beatles CD playing softly, and the bar doing a brisk trade.

The woman in red was listening to a short, bald, florid-faced man who couldn't take his eyes off her breasts, while she glanced around the room, idly twirling and empty wine glass, a polite smile fixed on her face, but obviously bored.

'Excuse me -- I think it's time for a little chivalry.'

He made his way round the dance floor and smiled at the woman.

'Your glass is empty. Need a refill?'

She smiled at him gratefully. 'That would be nice! Thank you!'

He lightly gripped her bare arm just above the elbow.

'You don't mind, do you?' he said to the bald man, and steered her towards the bar.

'And thank you for that, too! If he'd kept talking much longer, I'd have screamed!'

He looked at her glass, and raised his eyebrows.

'Dry white wine, please.'

He bought the wine and a pint of beer for himself, and they toasted other silently.

'The woman over there, in the black, she's taken a fancy to you -- she wondered if "you'd like to do things."'

She glanced at the woman quizzically, a half-smile on her lips. Perhaps, it said.

The woman smiled back demurely, running the tip of her tongue over her lips. I hope so ...

He took a long drink of beer, looking down at her breasts.

She had another sip of wine. 'My car's being serviced. It needs a part or something, and I came with Janet Watson in her car, but she had to leave early. Any chance of a lift?'

'No problem. Whenever you're ready.'

A man bumped into her, and her breasts brushed his arm, and he inhaled her perfume.

'When we've finished our drinks. My lady in black seems to have disappeared -- maybe you talking to me has frightened her off!'

'She said she might join the club, just to meet you, so I probably haven't spoiled the romance!'

She giggled, smiling at him over the rim of her glass, and he drank the last of his beer.

They said goodnight to their host, again wishing him a happy birthday. He'd obviously had quite a lot to drink -- he was a tall man, wearing an open-necked polo shirt and a blazer, and he beamed and kissed her on the cheek, holding her hand and squeezing her breast with his other hand, unsuccessfully trying to shield what he was doing with his body.

'Good night, goodnight, my lovely favourite mixed doubles partner!' he boomed, and kissed the woman's cheek again, narrowly missing her mouth.

They left the club, standing in the porch for a moment. It was dark, the wind picking up and rustling in the trees, and the first drops of rain started to splash down. He took his jacket off and slipped it round her bare shoulders, and their fingers touched as she adjusted it. The gravel crunched under their feet as they made their way to his car, and he opened to passenger door for his, being rewarded by an expansive glimpse of bare thighs, gleaming in the dim glow of the interior light.

He started the car, and they set off.

'From the way Tony Parker was behaving, it looked as though you two play more than doubles,' he observed. 'Has he had you?'

'What a question! But if you must know, yes, a few times.' She shrugged. 'He's nothing special -- he's a much better on the tennis court than in bed.'

He pulled up outside a large detached house, and she turned, leaning towards him.

He kissed her. Her lips were soft and cool, and his mouth started to work on hers. Her lips parted, and their tongues found each other, dancing lazily, and he cupped the breast recently vacated by Tony Parker's hand, squeezing it gently.

They kissed for several minutes, wetly, and then they broke apart.

Her breath was coming rapidly, and he continued to fondle her breast.

She hesitated, then: 'A quick coffee?'

He nodded, and released her breast. Again he opened the car door for her, and again he was treated to the sight of her bare thighs as she placed first one foot and then the other on the ground as he stared down at her legs and the considerably amount of cleavage she revealed as she bent to climb out of the car.

She let them into the house, and he followed her into the kitchen.

She shrugged off his jacket and switched on the kettle, spooning coffee into a сafetière -- he was standing behind her, and she leaned back against him as his hands slipped round her and fondled her breasts.

'Undo me,' she whispered, and he unzipped her dress and pushed it down, and unhooked her bra. She slipped her arms free of both of them, and stood naked to the waist as he crushed her bare breasts, pinching her nipples, tugging them, brushing his thumbs back and forth as he kneaded her breasts, kissing her neck while she pressed herself back against his hardening penis.

The kettle boiled, and she poured water into the сafetière as he kissed her bare shoulders. She found two mugs, and they went into the living room, sitting on the sofa while the coffee brewed for a few minutes.

He started at her naked breasts, capped by large stippled aureoles and prominent nipples, already stiff from his ministrations, and they kissed wetly, open-mouthed, until the coffee was ready.

She poured it into the mugs, and then turned back to him. He slipped his arm round her half-naked body and pulled her to him as the kissed again. The kiss became more passionate, and he dropped his free hand to her bare thigh, slowly sliding it up through the slit until his fingers touched her panties.

She gasped, squirming against him as he pushed his fingers inside her panties. She was dripping wet, and he felt her hand grasping his penis through his trousers.

The coffee was forgotten as she hauled her dress up around her waist. Her panties were silk, peach coloured, and he admired them for a moment before she raised her hips to help him slide them down her legs and off her feet, as she fumbled to free his erect penis from his trousers.

She leaned back into the corner of the sofa, pulling him down to her, guiding his penis into her, and he started to fuck her slowly.

She closed her eyes, her teeth clamped on her bottom lip as he gripped her soft breast, feeling its nipple hard as a pebble in the palm of his hand. She pushed herself up to meet his strokes -- it seemed as though his penis was getting larger -- and even harder -- inside her, as it penetrated deeper and deeper into her warm, wet vagina.

She seemed to feel it growing, too -- her eyes opened, and she clutched his arms, arching her back to grind her naked breasts against his chest.

He kissed her wetly, open-mouthed, as once again their tongues found each other. He slid his hand up and down her bare thigh and gripped her soft bottom as her breath began to come faster and faster, until she was almost panting into his mouth.

He felt her tighten her muscles around his penis, and she threw her head back, her nails digging into his arms, and then she gave a little cry as her body stiffened, and she began to jerk spasmodically as her orgasm swept through her, and at the same moment his semen started to spurt into her, in fierce, uncontrollable jets.

She flung her arms round his neck, kissing him feverishly as he emptied himself into her, holding her to him until they both quieted, and their breathing returned to normal.

At last, she took a deep breath and smiled at him weakly.

'It's time for you to go, I think,' she whispered, and kissed him lightly on the lips. 'And I'd better get up to bed, in case your father wakes up and wonders where I am!'