A Fancy-Dress PartybyMag58©
“Hi, have you got my costume for tonight?” I asked Amanda as soon as I returned home from my Honeymoon.
“Well; there’s been a change of plan. We aren’t going as the Spice Girls after all. I’ve had to put something special together for you instead.” She laughed, before asking about my Honeymoon in Corfu. As she hung up we agreed that my new husband, Paul, would drop me at her house at 6.30.
As I talked about my holiday I completely forgot to ask what my new costume was going to be.
Later in the day I began to worry as Amanda has a completely different sense of humour to me.
We had worked together in accounts for 5years and had become best friends despite being completely opposite in character and her being 10 years older than me. Amanda was married with 3 young sons and I had only been married for two weeks, although Paul and I had lived together for 5 years since leaving University.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to pick you up?” My darling husband asked as he dropped me outside her house.
“No, it’s fine, I’m sharing a taxi with Nicky and Clare; don’t worry.” I reminded him as we kissed goodbye.
Amanda’s house was its’ usual chaos as I stepped over discarded toys in the hallway leading to the kitchen.
Before I could say hello to the kids she produced a bottle of red wine and two glasses grabbed me by the arm and dragged me upstairs to change into our outfits.
Once inside the bedroom she took two large bags from the wardrobe and giggled as she unpacked the first one “Ta Da! Lara Croft for me!” then emptying the second onto the bed -, “Trust me, please, trust me. For you…….Miss Whiplash!”
I couldn’t believe my eyes. “Tell me you’re joking!” I gasped as I looked at the fancy dress outfit that she was laying out onto her bed for me.
“There…there’s nothing to it!” I stammered, “But…everyone will see my underwear…and I can’t wear …them!” I pointed at a pair of stockings.
Amanda was already getting undressed as I picked up and stared at a short leather skirt.
I glanced at Amanda; her breasts were smaller and softer than mine as she unclipped her bra and dropped it on the floor.
“Come on, hurry up”, she chided me, as she slipped her white knickers off, exposing her neatly trimmed pubes.
I must have been staring at her private parts as I gulped at my wine.
“Surprised?” she laughed as she stopped pulling up a sexy black g-string. She ran her hand over the stubble and smiled.
“John prefers it this short. Sometimes I even shave it all off for him,” Amanda laughed, revelling in my embarrassment, “It’s better for him when he licks me out! Ha, ha, ha!”
“Come on…hurry up. You haven’t got a choice… get your knickers off and get that outfit on!” Amanda chuckled as she pulled the small tight Lycra top over her head, “John can’t wait to see you”.
I grudgingly discarded my sweatshirt, jeans and boring white bra until I was only wearing a pair of green panties.
Paul and I had met at University and still dressed ‘very casual’ even bordering on ‘hippyish’. I normally wore jeans or jogging pants and trainers with loose fitting tops to disguise my large (34dd) breasts. I would only put on a little bit of lipstick and mascara to go to the pub. My hair is brown and cut quite short. I would never ever wear anything as revealing as this and my husband wouldn’t want me to either.
Amanda was already fastening her boots as I tentatively picked up a half-cup black bra that was lying next to a tiny red thong.
“I’ll never get everything into this!” I playfully moaned looking at the size – 32c.
“Oh come on,” she sighed as she hitched her leather shorts even higher up her hips until they were nearly cutting her in two, “it’ll be a laugh.”
I smiled as I turned away to take my knickers off.
With a heavy heart I stepped into Amanda’s tiny red panties.
Amanda fastened the bra for me as I fumbled with the clasp. It was obviously at least a size too small making my heavy breasts appear to spill out at any moment.
“Have I got to wear these?” I pleaded waving the packet of fishnet stockings at my friend.
“Yes you do!” She insisted as she fastened her gun belt to her hips.
I carefully pulled the first one over my toes and up my leg making the elastic snap against my thigh. As I straightened the top of the second stocking I glimpsed myself in the mirror, my bushy pubes where poking out of the top and sides of the tiny red slip of material. I blushed.
As I pulled up the zip on the side of the leather mini-skirt I hissed, “I’m going to look a right tart dressed like this.”
Amanda just laughed as she opened her wardrobe and handed me a pair of her high-healed boots. “Wait until you’ve got these on!”
I looked in the mirror as I buttoned the front of the transparent blouse. I was right; I looked like a tart as the skirt hardly covered my stocking tops and when I moved my breasts wrestled to get out of the bra.
I turned to see Amanda taking something else from a bag.
“And to complete the outfit!” She threw me a long, curly, bright auburn wig.
“Put that on and I’ll do your make-up for you.” She grinned.
I sat in front of the dressing table sipping the last of the wine as my friend began ‘painting my face’. Her wobbling breasts casually brushed my cheek as she moved from side to side. My eyes became fixed on her erect nipples as she applied a thick coat of bright red lipstick to my pouting mouth.
As I pulled a pair of long velvet gloves onto my hands I again looked at myself in the full length mirror; for some reason the long curly red hair was perfect with my tarty outfit and began to turn me into a different person.
I gave my reflection a smile and a sultry vamp winked back at me. I had been transformed into a sexy vixen.
“What do you think?” Amanda called to her husband as we walked downstairs. John stepped out of the kitchen and peered at us as I tentatively moved downstairs step to step in my 3 inch heeled boots.
“Jesus!” he bellowed and nervously adjusted his crotch. Amanda fired a pellet from her gun at his head.
“You can stop that now!” She laughed then fired a second at his chest making him flinch. “You’ll have to make do with me when I get home!”
Pretending to be frightened of his wife John cowered behind a tea-towel, “What about…you know?” He nodded his head at a bag lying next to some shoes in the hall.
“Shit. I nearly forgot.” Amanda chuckled as she chased her youngest son, firing pellets over his head, “the plastic bag is for you too.”
John nodded again at the plastic bag.
As I stepped towards it I realised John was watching my every movement. Cheekily I bent straight over from the waist to pick it up.
For the first time in my life I felt deliciously naughty when my skirt rode up my thighs flashing my stocking tops and bum cheeks at him.
As I stood straight again I opened the bag. A riding crop! Of course – how could I be Miss Whiplash without a whip?
I turned to see my best friend’s husband leering at me. With a look of admonishment I flicked the end so it clipped his crotch making him jump back.
“That’s what happens when you look up a lady’s skirt!” I chuckled.
Amanda joined us and grimaced. “Was he trying to see your knickers?” She asked as she playfully punched him in the arm.
John and I both grinned as he held the door open because the taxi had arrived.
Sandra was dressed as a French-Maid and handed us bottles of Alco pops as she sat beside the driver.
She laughed out loud when she saw me and teased, “I can see what kind of night this is going to be!” As I slid along the back seat showing my stocking tops to the world.
The taxi pulled up in front of a huge marquee behind one of the cities top hotels.
As we climbed out of the car I had a massive surge of self-confidence. Swaying my hips and making sure that my breasts wobbled; led the way into the party. The long wig, heavy make-up and sexy clothing were turning me into a completely different person; a very sexy woman.
The first man I saw was Alex, the Sales Manager dressed as a Blues Brother.
‘TWANK’ I hit his backside with the riding crop. He jumped with shock (and pain) spilling his beer, making his friends laugh.
“What does a girl have to do to get a drink around here?” I joked.
He rubbed his buttock and looked me up and down, “Phwoar! I guess she would have to be dressed like that!” Still rubbing his buttock he asked the rest, “What would you ladies like?”
Minutes later he returned with an assortment of cocktails. As we stood drinking Alex produced his digital camera and made us pose together in a group, then individually. Amanda was now in her element posing as Lara Croft firing plastic pellets at anyone who looked her way. Sandra quickly lifted her skirt showing the men her stockings and suspenders.
I could feel the adrenaline surge through my body as, for the first time in my life; guys looked at me as a sex object. I don’t know what magic potion was in the wig but I very quickly felt and acted like a bitch on heat, flirting with the sales guys and even one of the Directors.
We soon chose a table for dinner and Alex made sure that he was sitting next to me. He was a great guy anyway, always making us girls in the office laugh, so I didn’t mind.
He would flirt and flatter us or tell crude jokes that would make a sailor blush. He was in his late forties, short and stocky – not attractive in the conventional sense but his charm made all of the women in the office like him. One lunch time two women from accounts had joked that they ‘would let him fuck them’ if they had the chance, which had made me look at him in a different light.
During dinner he kept taking photos, even taking a couple of ‘sneaky’ ones of me as my skirt climbed up my legs. I pretended to be offended (I smacked him with the crop) but I secretly loved the attention.
When the meal finished we all separated; dancing, drinking and chatting to friends. Whenever I came back to the table Alex would be waiting for me. We talked and flirted and he kept taking more photos of me as the others danced or drank close by. He kept telling me how sexy I looked; that I should model for him and he could get my pictures into magazines or on the internet. As the drink and flattery began to take effect I began posing for him, making sure that he saw my stocking tops, and I would bend forward making my cleavage look absolutely massive. At one stage I pouted and put two fingers into my mouth which must have looked like I was simulating oral sex – his eyes lit up.
“You’re giving me a hard-on!” he whispered.
I sat back in my chair and eased my thighs apart so that he could photograph my little red knickers.
Alex looked around and stroked my hand, “Let’s go outside for some more intimate pictures.” Without hesitation I followed as he discretely opened a fire door when no one was looking.
We quickly moved away from the marquee and were soon standing behind the kitchens. Alex looked around to make sure that we couldn’t be seen, pressed me against the wall and kissed me. He kissed me like I’d never been kissed before. His lips were as soft as butter and his tongue as slippery as an eel. I tried to kiss him back but he was taking my breath away. I clung onto his shoulders as his hands began groping my bum. My head was spinning as his hands pulled my skirt up to my waist as he stroked the back of my thighs above the elasticated stocking tops until he was grabbing huge handfuls of my tight arse. Without thinking I began grinding my crotch into his stiffening cock as our tongues tried to choke each other they were so deep in each others mouths.
With a gentle peck on my tingling lips he suddenly whispered; “I want to take some more photos. Is that okay?”
I was so drunk I could hardly speak so just smiled and nodded.
He stepped back and began adjusting his digital camera.
I pressed my shoulders against the wall leaving my small leather skirt wrapped around my hips exposing my barely covered private parts to him.
Alex grinned and the camera flashed. He moved around taking another three photos from different angles, and then said, “Show me your tits.”
Without hesitating I slowly unbuttoned the blouse as he took more pictures, then put my hands behind my back and unclipped Amanda’s bra. I gasped as my large breasts tumbled free from their lace cage.
The feeling of relief was wonderful as I closed my eyes and squeezed my aching breasts, forgetting that Alex was taking photos until the flash startled me.
“That looked good!” Alex chuckled, “now keep squeezing your tits but put the other hand down the front of your pants for me.”
Again I conformed without hesitation. My pubes felt like barbed wire as I slowly ran my fingers through the forest of curly hair.
“Pull your pants down for me,” he panted.
Still squeezing my pendulous breasts with one hand I got the tiny red g-string as far as my knees with the other, then raised my hand back to my aching breasts. My nipples were puffed up like marshmallows and my heart was beating like a drum as Alex moved in closer with his camera.
“Take them off and spread your legs for me,” he whispered in a husky manner as his camera clicked in front of my hairy pussy.
My breasts swung like pendulums as I bent forward to take the panties completely off.
Alex’s breath got heavier and faster as I had to lift my legs up and wide apart to get the knickers over the long spiked heals, giving him plenty of opportunities to photograph my now dripping honeypot.
My mind was an absolute blank by now. I never gave a second’s thought to my husband of two weeks or the fact that apart from my GP no other man had ever seen my most intimate parts.
“Oh God, Lynn, my balls are going to explode if you don’t do something about it for me,” Alex groaned as he held the camera six inches away from my love tunnel.
I didn’t move or say anything as he took a step back and unfastened his trousers.
“You’ve got to suck me off! Okay?” he asked as his trousers and boxer shorts slid down his chubby legs leaving his straining cock jutting out like a dagger.
I smiled and slowly dropped to my knees, taking his meat into my velvet gloved hand. His camera flashed as I opened my mouth and licked the bulbous purple tip.
His balls did feel heavy and about to burst as I stroked them while I sucked and licked his cock.
I was amazed that it looked much thicker and a little longer than Paul’s; I thought that they ‘all looked the same’. With one hand holding my head and the other taking photos Alex forced his fat cock deep into my face until he completely filled my mouth, which Paul never could.
Alex moaned and groaned as he stroked my long false hair and dangling tits as well as taking more pictures of me sucking his cock.
“I can’t cum, I can’t cum,” he sighed, as I wantonly ran my wet tongue along his throbbing shaft, “stand up, I’ve got fuck you. I’ve got to.”
Alex helped me to my feet and pushed me against the kitchen wall.
His eyes were like saucers as he ran his fingers along my honey pot, “Jesus! You’re soaking!” he gasped as two or three fingers easily slid inside my hole.
I bit my lip and didn’t say a word as he flexed and twisted his fingers inside my hot pussy.
With little or no ceremony he pulled his fingers out and instantly replaced them with his twitching cock. We groaned in unison as his fat dick stretched my juicy love hole.
Alex was struggling to get all of his cock inside my pussy as my high-heeled boots made me a little bit taller than he was.
It felt wonderful as this man fucked me and we both tried to move and thrust in our quest to satisfy our primal needs.
Finally I bent one leg and wrapped the other around his waist instantly allowing all six inches or so of his cock to fill my freshly married pussy.
Our lips met again and we kissed like our lives depended on it.
Alex was sucking and licking my swinging tits as he fucked me like a demon. His cock felt awesome as it battered my cunt.
Then with a grunt and a large sigh Alex pressed his face deep into the soft flesh of my breast. As he panted for breath I felt my pussy fill up with his warm juices.
“Oh Lynn, oh Lynn,” he panted as his body went limp, “that was fantastic; fantastic.”
Shaking, I un-wrapped my leg from his waist allowing him to withdraw his shrinking cock from my sloppy hole. As I steadied myself I could feel my pussy-opening contorting as it tried to get back to its normal size.
With a cheeky grin Alex asked, “Just one last picture?” Without waiting he knelt in front of me and took three more photos of my stretched hole which was oozing his sticky cum down my thighs.
I pulled my skirt back over my stocking tops and just as I was forcing my heaving breasts back into Amanda’s bra I heard her voice.
“Lynn? Lynn? Are you there?” She called, “Your taxi’s here.”
Still fastening my blouse, but without any knickers on I staggered towards her voice.
“Oh you’re there,” she sounded relieved. “Hang on!” She questioned me, “What were you doing back there?”
Amanda tried to get past me but I grabbed her arm and kept on walking.
“You dirty cow!” she laughed, “who were you with?”
As we stumbled back to the marquee Lynn kept looking over her shoulder to see who my ‘mystery lover’ was.
“You dirty cow,” Amanda repeated, “I don’t believe it! You’ve only been married a fortnight! You will tell me who you were with and what you were doing – you will!”
At the taxi Clare, who was dressed as a Red-Indian was sitting beside the driver, so I had to sit in the back.
“Nicky has disappeared with Jimmy from Sales,” Clare giggled.
As the taxi slowly made its way along the driveway I spotted Alex with his Pork-pie had and shades standing beside the road. As the taxi passed him he waved my red knickers in the air!
Fancy Dress Party (Taxi Ride)
My drunkenness was now making me very sleepy as the taxi sped along the motorway.
“Lynn! Lynn!” Clare shouted as she shook my arm, “I’m getting out now, will you be ok?”
“Yes, yes…sure,” I mumbled as my eyes blinked with the sudden light.
“I’ve got her address. She’ll be fine.” I heard the elderly Asian taxi-driver tell my friend.
I looked forward and spotted his dark brown eyes staring back from the rear-view mirror as he adjusted it.
Not realising what he was doing I smiled back at him.
“You look like you’ve had a good night” the man grinned through his tobacco stained teeth.
“Yes…yes I have.” I slurred as I remembered the shafting that I’d just had from Alex.
The taxi sped around a corner making me slide along the back seat.
“Whoo Hoo!” I giggled as I spread my arms and legs to steady myself.
I looked up to see his twinkling eyes in the mirror again.
“Are you okay?” he asked as I drifted into a light sleep.
Hardly able to speak I just smiled and raised my thumb.
“I sometimes drive kiss-o-gram girls and strippers around. Have you ever done that?” He asked as he looked in the mirror.
Flattered, I shrugged my shoulders and shook my head.
“You should think about it,” the driver continued as I struggled to keep my eyes open, “a pretty girl like you could make a lot of money…if she dressed like you.”
“Whoo Hoo!” I giggled again as he turned another corner making me slide along the warm leather upholstery.
After about 20 minutes I desperately tried to shake my head to try and stay awake as I was nearing my home town.
A sudden wave of panic overtook me as I spotted the meter as it reached £25. I frantically searched through my purse. All I could find was a £10 note and £7 in coins and I still had a couple of miles to go!
“Stop, stop!” I pleaded, “I haven’t got enough money. I’ll have to get out here …I’m sorry. Stop the car!”
“What?” He looked over his shoulder, his grey flecked beard shining in the street lights, “How much have you got?”