Dress

There was lousy mobile phone reception in Audrey's basement flat. I used to get into a cab after spending an evening at hers, and the text messages would pour in like half my address book had decided to ping me a the same time. This only added to my usual reluctance to leave the cozy isolation of her underground retreat.

This day we spent the afternoon in bed. When I arrived, she came to the door naked underneath a flimsy robe, which she had removed almost immediately after I shut the door behind me.

"Coffee?" she asked.

It had been a late night for her, and she was just getting back to the world of daylight at one in the afternoon. I said yes please and she pointed to the bedroom. "Make yourself comfortable and I'll bring it."

I stripped off and got into her warm bed, lying back on the pile of pillows, relaxing. The curtains were drawn against the sunlight. She brought the coffee, we chatted, stroked, fondled, I took her nipple between my thumb and forefinger and squeezed gently, she pounced, nibbling on my lip while her hand slid down my stomach...

I'll spare you the details of the afternoon; it's the afterwards I'm interested in right now.

The moment arrived when we had to get out of bed and attend to the obligations of our lives. Audrey took a bath, sighing loudly with the pleasure of lowering her sore pussy into the hot water, the door to the bathroom ajar so we could continue our in-bed conversation while she cleaned up for a date.

She was planning to meet him at a pub down the street, half an hour later. "I'm having a slutty week," she said when I asked if she was going to tell her date what she had spent the day doing. "Yeah, I'll probably tell him." I liked this. We discussed how turned-on her date might get if she gave him a few pornographic details. Audrey emerged from the bath, freshly shaved and moisturized, soft, warm and fragrant.

"Let's just see what he does. If I'm lucky, maybe he'll decide to punish me."

I lounged around, my limbs still mostly useless from all the sex, watching her put the evening's outfit on. She started with a lacy black bra. Facing me, with her back to the full-length mirror, she bent over and began to pull on a delicate pair of black seamed stockings. With precise movements and a steady gaze over her shoulder, she steered the seam in a miraculously straight line up the back of her calves and thighs, attaching the tops to black garters that matched the bra.

"Shall I wear knickers?" she wondered, turning around to face the mirror, looking at herself the way her horny date might do a few hours later.

"More fun to remove," I suggested helpfully, and was rewarded with the delightful sight of watching Audrey put on a black thong of such evanescent skimpiness that it didn't so much cover her nudity as draw the eye to the cleft of her buttocks.

At last, the dress. It was a blue and white floral number, and the naughtiness of the lingerie underneath, implied by the seamed stockings, was heightened by its flirty innocence.

I put my own clothes on without much enthusiasm. We waited for my cab on the pavement outside her door, and Audrey left me with a mischievously red-lipsticked kiss on the cheek.

"Have a good date!" I said, both meaning it and envying the guy she was about to meet.

"Thanks darling, I plan to."

By the time I had cleaned the lipstick off my cheek, she had probably already kissed him hello.