Utopia
Wednesday. At last. Ninety-six hours since we’d made the arrangement. 5,760 minutes. 345,600 seconds. Every one of them the length of a…
Wednesday. At last. Ninety-six hours since we’d made the arrangement. 5,760 minutes. 345,600 seconds. Every one of them the length of a day. As you can probably tell I was excited by the prospect of my date with Mary! Not just any date, but one where she wanted to join me on one of my ‘displays’ as she calls them, then to my house for a ‘fuckfest’, again her description, to be completed with some sort of watersports scenario, yet to be decided.
If the evening was even one-tenth as horny as I pictured it, it was going to be mind blowing.
We’d arranged to meet in a pub, not the hotel bar of our previous two encounters. I felt we may have been a little too obvious on our earlier visit and the last thing I needed was to be recognised as that woman who flashes her knickers.
The pub I’d chosen was down by the quay. Now a fairly upmarket part of town but not one I frequented. Mary’s social life was like mine, non-existent, but I did get the odd outing connected to business and I needed to ensure the locations of these extra curricular activities didn’t overlap with business ones.
I wondered how Mary would dress. She hadn’t asked me for any advice so I assumed she had her own ideas. For my part, I went home from work and changed this time. I wore a button-through summery dress (see above). Underneath I decided on white lingerie. I think it stands out more. Stockings of course and suspenders.
The pub was all low sofas, armchairs, and coffee tables. Ideal for us. I’d done this so many times in my mind over the last few days, I hoped the reality would match.
I arrived a few minutes early, but when I walked into the bar Mary was already there, looking nervous but sexy. She had on the same style of outfit as last week, a pencil skirt, blouse (pale lemon this week), and a blazer. Light tan hosiery completed her ensemble. Last week she had been in tights. I’d have been willing to bet this week would be stockings. I smiled and walked over. She returned the smile and I bent down to kiss her. No timid air kiss or peck on the cheek. Our lips met and lingered for seconds. Many seconds.
“If that’s the start of the evening what do you suppose we might be doing by the end?” Mary asked as I sat down.
“Well for a start, hopefully you won’t be wearing so many clothes,” I responded. She giggled. “Goody!”
I’d sat next to her on the sofa facing out into the bar. This wasn’t a dimly lit Victorian establishment it was light and airy. No difficulty for people to see everything. I was already tingling at the thought of what we might do.
Mary asked what I wanted to drink and went to the bar. I took in the surroundings. Being early evening and mid-week it wasn’t crowded but had three tables with couples and one with three businessmen. They would be tonight’s first beneficiaries I thought.
On previous outings, Carol had accompanied me but there was no way I could get her to reveal anything in public. That’s what made Mary such a find. To be doing this with another made the buzz so much greater.
She returned with my tonic water. We were both being abstemious; Mary due to her pills and me because I didn’t trust myself if I got drunk. I couldn’t afford to overstep the mark. Ha. What the hell was I doing there then?
I asked Mary, “So tell me, tights, stockings, or hold-ups?”
She smiled. She didn’t reply simply pulled the hem of her skirt up revealing stocking tops and metal suspender snaps. “I hope you approve.”
“Mm, look delicious.”
The glimpse had not been spotted by anyone. In the few months I’ve been doing this, that, I think, is the most surprising feature. The public is generally so unobservant. We’d need to try harder.
I’ve tried to remember if at any time in my life on earth, excluding the last few months, I’d ever talked to another woman about my underwear and drew a blank. Tonight not only were we talking about it, but showing it too.
“I’ve been told men love the metal fasteners more than the plastic. Did you know that?” As I asked her I pushed her skirt back up to leave the clasps on display. Mary didn’t object.
“No. Who told you that? Your Ex?”
“No, he didn’t care, whatever it was just got ripped off, it was someone online.”
“You talk to people online about your undies?” Mary’s voice expressed her surprise.
Ah. That was a slip, but I took the opportunity to come clean. “Yes, I’ve got a Twitter account. Lots of men leering at my undies and body!”
“You post pictures?” More incredulity.
“Yes.”
“Nude ones?”
“No, don’t be silly,” I said borrowing her favourite word. “I’m usually wearing stockings.”
She pummelled my arm. “So you do show…your bits?”
“Yes.” I wondered if this was going to be too much for her.
“Oh wow. Is that as much of a turn-on as I imagine?”
“Oh Yes. It’s lovely getting all those tweets telling me what they’d like to do with me.” As I said this I rather carelessly crossed my legs. I appeared to have forgotten to fasten the buttons holding the skirt closed so it fell away from my legs as I did, exposing the lacy tops to the white stockings I was wearing.
It reminded me of our first meeting, “Do you remember that first evening when you got drunk? Coming back from the bar, seeing what I was revealing?”
“Just! The combo had started to affect me by then but I can recall being a bit shocked, but a little bit excited too.”
I took in the bar again. Still no voyeurs. I looked at Mary, “You look very hot. I think you should take your jacket off and undo a button or two on your blouse before you faint.”
“No, I’m fine why…ah! Yes, now you mention it.” I raised my eyebrows.
“Sorry bit slow!” She made quite a performance of taking the blazer off which prompted one of the businessmen to glance over. Yes! I could see his eyes light up even at the distance we were. My skirt was parted right up to my waist so my knickers were visible and as Mary struggled to remove her jacket she let her knees drift well apart.
The guy didn’t say anything to his colleagues as far as I could tell. He was keeping the view for himself. Then it became apparent why. The group was leaving. At least the other two were. They all shook hands and the two left but our peeping Tom went to the bar, bought himself another drink, and sat down at a new position. One that gave him a much better view.
Mary had now divested herself of her coat and undone two extra buttons on her blouse. I was getting the view my work colleagues enjoyed when I did a similar thing in the office. Her bra was a pale lemon matching her blouse and looked to be full cup and lacy.
“Does Simon not react to your sexy undies?”
“No. I doubt if his life depended on it he’d be able to describe what I wear. Mind, I don’t wear this sort often.” As she said this she pulled her blouse open more so I, and our voyeur, could see the bra more easily. “And the suspenders and stockings were a special purchase. I didn’t own any before this. No point.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see our fan fidgeting in his chair. Can’t think why.
Mary had taken to this like a duck to water. I felt left behind.
“Can I take a photo?” I asked. Alarm flashed across her face. “What for? You can’t show it to your men! Simon would go berserk if he saw them.”
Not unexpected, but her reply was a disappointment. “No. I wouldn’t post them, not without your permission.”
I changed my position on the sofa. I uncrossed my legs and swiveled slightly towards Mary, letting them drift apart a little. No, that’s a lie. They drifted apart a lot. Not quite missionary position wide but halfway to it. I hoped our fan enjoyed soaking up the view of my sheer knickers.
“Please, I do trust you, but I don’t know; just knowing they existed would make me nervous.”
“Then forget I asked,” I said as I placed a hand on her knee and ran it up her thigh.
I leant in towards Mary with the intention of kissing her which meant I had my back to the voyeur. I saw Mary’s eyes widen. “He’s coming over,” she whispered. Oh, shit. Inevitable I suppose. I just hoped he wasn’t as insistent as my salt in the coffee friend. I turned but left my hand on Mary’s thigh at stocking top height and my legs apart. Whether it was due to Mary being there I don’t know, but I felt empowered and was not going to be cowed by a mere male.
He stopped a respectful few feet away from us. “Ladies, can I buy you a drink?” Here we go I thought, but he continued, “I’ve got to go now, but want to thank you for the show. I’m assuming you did it deliberately. If you didn’t my apologies for staring, but god the view made me so horny. Please can I buy you that drink?” We looked at each other. I smiled and Mary giggled. He was about thirty, smart, and conventionally handsome not like ‘Saltie’ in the coffee shop.
I replied. “That’s very kind. But no need, we’re just delighted we two old maids made you happy.” He laughed. “Old maids? You need to go to Specsavers. I’ve never seen such a sexy pair of MILFs. Is this a regular thing? If it is, I’ll make sure it is for me too.”
Mary answered. “No, very much a one-off here. We’re like a Flash flash! Popping up in all sorts of unexpected places.”
He laughed. “Fuck. Not only the sexiest bit on the planet but funny as well. I must go. It’s been a pleasure. Goodbye and thank you again.” With that he turned and left, giving us a little wave as he went.
“How to behave like a gentleman,” I muttered and relayed the story of Saltie to Mary.
“I suppose we can expect ups and downs but he was nice.” There was something in the way she said it, a wistfulness, that that made me ask. “Would you have wanted him to stay? You could have asked. I can bear their presence if necessary.”
“God no. That would be too much temptation.”
“So you can be tempted.” She giggled,
“I’d have thought the fact I’m here with you doing this proves that.”
She pointed to our show. Her skirt still hiked above her stockings and my legs still at forty-five degrees to each other.
“True. That was rewarding though and has helped restore my faith a little. Seems not all the males of the species are misogynistic pigs. Shall we go for a wander? It’s a bit quiet in here?” The bar was now devoid of customers apart from one old couple who were sitting with their backs to us. Whether that was by accident or design I didn’t know.
“Good idea. Let’s go do a Flash flash somewhere else.”
We left the solitary couple and went for a walk around the docks/marina. Like so many other ports it’s transformed over the years from industrial sinkhole to desirable residential area and it’s a pleasant place for an evening stroll. Especially with the temperature where it was, locked on ‘Too bloody hot.’
Neither of us made any attempt to correct our wardrobe malfunctions. Mary’s blouse had unaccountably undone its own buttons to the waist and was gaping wide open. Her bra was a delight and like all her clothes shouted expensive, but I have to say it gave her tits the most delightful uplift. The view of it, out there in public was also likely to uplift certain other parts of our voyeurs. For my contribution, my dress buttons had come out in solidarity with Mary’s blouse. I had the added advantage-disadvantage?- of buttoning right through from neckline to hemline.
We held hands as we walked. Attracting attention to our lesbian leanings was hardly going to increase our crowd-pulling ability given the amount of lingerie we had on display.
There were plenty of people around, mainly couples, which was probably the reason reaction was muted. It was almost comical to see the men’s eyes latch on but then, with a quick glance at their wives, tear themselves away. I say almost. I couldn’t speak for Mary, but this walk was making me leak copiously and that reaction overrode any likelihood of me laughing. I was so turned on I wondered if I’d start dripping through my knickers. The material was not exactly absorbent.
I asked Mary how she felt.
“Like a movie star! Everyone’s looking at me!”
“Do you mind?”
“God no! It’s why we’re here, isn’t it? Although I have to say I didn’t think there’d be so many stares. But then I didn’t think I’d have the courage to do this. And look at you!” She stopped as she said this turned to me and pulled one side of my dress out.
Hot isn’t the word for it. Scorching? Furnace level? Surface of the sun level? God. A continual flow of people walked by as Mary continued holding my dress out. Something had to change.
But first I wanted to push Mary. “You shouldn’t be hiding your knickers. Join me!” I closed in, put my arms around her, found her skirt zip, and undid it. I held it there, leant back, and looked at my partner in crime. “Okay?” For a brief moment she looked puzzled then realisation dawned. Her eyes widened. She looked around, whether to check the number of people or to see if there was an escape route from this mad woman I wasn’t sure.
I knew from my early attempts at this that being goaded to do it, in my case by Carol, was enough to prompt me into doing something stupid, but I wasn’t going to force Mary into anything, especially given this was her first time.
“Oh god Tracy, I’m not sure. It’s so obvious.”
“But walking round with your blouse undone and my dress wide open isn’t?” I kept it light. There was no hint of admonishment in my voice.
“True, and god it would be a huge turn-on, but…”. Her voice trailed off. I redid the zip, kissed her lightly on the lips, and said, “No problem, there’ll be other times.”
But something had to change. I reached up to my bra and pulled each tit out leaving the bra under my boobs giving a bit of uplift. For modesty’s sake (!!!!) I did up the button on my dress near my waist. It kept the bodice just over my nipples. Until I started walking. And it kept me from continually displaying my knickers. Until I started walking.
“Let’s walk a little further,” I suggested.
“Why not?” Mary replied. I could see she was relieved I’d not made an issue of her losing her skirt.
We walked for a few minutes in silence. The looks were such a perfect aphrodisiac, I had to do it. I stopped, turned, and faced Mary, “Do me a favour?” She looked apprehensive. “What?” She asked cautiously.
“Take my knickers off.”
“Oh god,” was all she said. A smile, probably of relief, spread across her face. She needed no urging. Her hands pushed my dress aside found the waistband and tugged. She took them all the way down, squatted in front of me and I put a hand on her shoulder and stepped out of them. “They’re very damp,” she said as she held them up as she had done the previous week in the bar. Two women about our age were just walking by and clearly heard and saw what was happening. They stared, not saying anything. I couldn’t decide what their reaction was. Jealous? Amused? Disgusted? Most likely the last. Did I care? Nope. I need to read up on psychology or whichever mind science covers the idea that people thinking one is acting despicably is a turn-on. Is that why, I fleeting wondered, why hooligans do what hooligans do? It was very fleeting. My urges in other directions were overpowering.
I realised Mary was giggling. God. That giggle was a turn-on too. She was saying something but I wasn’t listening.
“Pardon?”
“I said, these nix are so wet I was wondering if you’d peed in them.”
The look on Mary’s face gave away what she was really saying. Or was it perhaps that I willed it to be that because I was going to do it anyway?
“No, I was saving that till I took them off.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“Wowie! Where? Here?”
Dear Mary. Her enthusiasm. It was like telling a child you’d changed your mind and they could have an ice cream after all. I looked around. Numbers had thinned, but there were still a goodly few people around. We were in the middle of the path and I chickened out doing it there. We walked down to the marina area and I stood near a pontoon leading to the moored yachts.
I looked around. About half a dozen people were close enough to realise what I was doing without being too close. I decided to do it standing. I spread my legs, let my dress hang, and let go.
“Oh, Wow.” Mary’s comment said it all really. I kept an eye on the passers-by. As usual, most seemed oblivious but one guy on his own suddenly stopped, staring at me. He deserved more. I pushed the two halves of my dress aside. He had a clear view. Tits. Stockings. Suspenders. Naked cunt. Piss pouring out.
Without a word of a lie, I thought I was about to orgasm. My body began to tremble. The whole episode was scorchingly hot. I finished. I gave myself a shake and let the dress fall back. I had to take deep breaths to get myself under control.
Keeping my fingers from going into my pussy and bringing myself off there and then took huge willpower and I’m not sure why I didn’t do it. Perhaps I wanted to save that for another time.
I glanced at Mary. I’d been so preoccupied with the voyeur, who had now walked on, that I hadn’t noticed what she’d done. She was leaning against railings and had followed my example of hoisting her tits out of her bra and the way she was sitting on the railing she’d managed to contrive that her skirt was tucked up above her stockings. I smiled. “Good girl.”
“Mm. Liberating isn’t it?”
I walked over to her. “Yes.” I put my arms around her and kissed her full on the lips. I let a hand wander between her legs. I broke the kiss and looked into her eyes. “And you accused me of having wet knickers! Think it’s time we went home?”
“Definitely.”
I’ll stop there. For the moment. Partly because typing it, I’m reliving it and I need dry knickers. Not that I’m wearing much. In fact, that’s all I’m wearing. But you don’t want to know that do you? Part two will follow when I calm down a little XXX
