Car Show Slut Ch. 02

Since I was going out for the first time in such a long time, I new outfit was in order – retail therapy time! Saturday afternoon I hit the mall. I picked up a few new business suits on special, some pants suits but also a few reasonably modest knee-length skirts, but what I really wanted was something with a bit of glamour to wear that night. Trawling through the large department store, I came upon the underwear section. What about some new underwear while I'm here, I thought? Why not indeed. Why not some more g-strings? I'd worn both sets to work during the week, and I was getting used to the feel of them. And I liked the fact that they were virtually invisible under your clothing. And I liked the fact that my ass looked naked under my clothing.

If I'm going to continue to wear them to work, I'd better buy up big, I reasoned. So I did: I got whites, reds, blacks and grays, all with matching bras. On a whim I even got a black one with the word 'SEX' written across the front in red with white keylines...

But what I was really looking for was a skirt, something to go with my big black boots. Spring was in the air; time to give the old wardrobe a spring clean with something perhaps a little less conservative than my normal fare.

I couldn't decide between two skirts. They were both beautifully tailored, though rather short, in black and deep navy. The navy one was very short. I took them both. Either of these would look fine with a black button-up suit jacket that I'd bought some time ago but still hadn't worn. Satisfied with my morning's mall work, I lugged my new purchases back to the car and headed home.

I showered and readied myself. The black skirt looked better with the jacket, so I chose that one. I selected one of the black g-strings and bras to go with it. No blouse required, the jacket buttoned up high and it wasn't cold out. With the skirt finishing halfway down my thighs, the boots topping out up neat my knees, I had to admit it was a sexy look – very sexy for me! The ensemble was simple, even austere, but absolutely sexy.

Then I spied the black SEX g-string sitting on the bed among my various other new clothes. Well, it would match the bra, I told myself. Why not? I slipped off the one I was wearing and pulled on the g-string that read SEX across the front. Ready to go...

Wendy and Roger picked me up at seven.

"You're looking well, Anne, how's it been going with you?" Wendy asked from the front seat.

"Pretty good. Work's as busy as ever. This is actually the first night out I've had in quite a while."

"Anything happening on the man front?" she asked.

"No, not really."

"We'll have to hook you up with one of Roger's buddies, eh Roger?" she said.

"Well," Roger said, "I'll see what I can do. But Anne you surely can't have been looking very hard – I mean, you really are quite a catch, and you're looking very nice tonight."

"Oh listen to him turn it on!" said Wendy. "Eyes on the road and hands on the wheel, Mister."

"Yes ma'am!"

The movie was Basic Instinct II. Not as good as the first version, but still pretty good. I mean, how could they top the original? That interrogation scene with Sharon Stone opening her legs in front of the guys, and them all just losing the plot, and even Michael Douglas as the tough guy of the film struggling to hold it together.

"Feel like a drink, ladies?" Roger said as we came out of the cinema complex.

Wendy and I nodded in agreement. We headed off to a bar down the street. It was great to be out socially with friends. We laughed and joked about work – Wendy was in marketing, like me; Roger was in advertising – comparing worst clients and our most spectacular screw ups. But every now and then I noticed Roger's eyes straying down to my legs. He was sitting almost directly opposite, so I guess there weren't too many other places for the poor guy to look. We were in one of those trendy cushions-and-low-tables kind of places – not really the venue for short skirts. On these too-soft cushions, if crossed my legs I would have to lean right back lest I topple over (especially after a glass of wine or two), but if I did lean back in the seat I'd be showing off too much thigh. So I had to sit straight, legs uncrossed, and after I noticed Roger checking me out I realised I had let my knees stray open just a little, maybe only an inch or two. I pulled my knees together. He couldn't have seen anything.

As the night and our drinking went on, I began to get rather light headed. I was having fun. But I must have been more drunk than I thought, because leaning across to pick up my drink, the wine glass slipped straight out of my hand and smashed on the marble table. We all fell back laughing.

"Girl, you're drunk!" Wendy laughed, as a waiter scurried over to clean up the broken glass. I had fallen back in my seat giggling at the silliness of it all, but when I looked up and saw the waiter bending down over the table I realised he wasn't looking at the mess on the table, but rather he was straining his head upwards and look straight at me. At my legs. Then I realised that my thighs had fallen open as I slumped back in the cushions. The waiter – and Roger – was staring straight up my skirt. It was then I also remembered that I had worn the SEX panties...

Slightly mortified, but really too tipsy to care too much, I pulled my knees back together and straightened up. The waiter finished his work and left us alone. But as we continued chatting I felt a hot flush on my face – how much had they seen? Did they see the SEX?

"I'm just going thoo the ladies' room," Wendy slurred. She staggered off, leaving Roger and I alone. I was drunk, for sure, but she looked in a worse state than me.

"You look really great tonight, Anne," Roger said. "Those boots – fantastic. I've got to buy a pair like that for Wendy."

As he spoke, his eyes scanned across my boots, my legs. Commenting on the boots had kind of given him permission in a sense to stare at my legs, and he was taking advantage of it. Maybe it hadn't been premeditated on his part, but I had had a few too many glasses of wine, and I didn't have a lot of worries at that point in the night. I didn't care if it was just a ruse to perve at my legs. I liked the compliment. I liked him looking at me. I wanted him to look at me.

"Why thank you sir," I said. "And Wendy sure would look great in boots like these. I've hardly ever worn them because I haven't had many things that go with them. But then I got this skirt today."

"It looks great too," he said, now looking at my skirt. "There was a nervousness in his voice now, I could tell.

My legs had strayed slightly open. It actually wasn't easy to sit on these cushions and keep them together. He was still looking at my legs. Before he had been very subtle about it, worried no doubt that he might get caught out by Wendy. But for the moment she wasn't here. His face had a flushed sheen to it now. So did mine, for that matter. My inadvertent exposure incident with the waiter was still fresh in my mind.

The wine had got me in a very playful mood. I was feeling adventurous. While Wendy was still gone I decided to push this little interlude a little further; I was drunk, I was up for a bit of harmless fun. As I reached across for my glass, I let my legs fall open. It got his attention. It felt devilishly wicked to be acting like such a little slut in front of my friend's man, and all the while trying to make it look like an accident, like I wasn't aware how much I was revealing.

"So, what are you guys planning tomorrow?" I said, for want of anything else to say. But as I spoke I shifted my leg under the table, so I could move my left leg further apart. So I could show him more. Yes, I was going to show him more.

"Oh, er, not sure just yet," he said, his eyes dancing between my face and my skirt. "Probably just laze around the house," he added, leaning across the table to get his drink. In doing so he enabled himself to have a much closer look. He couldn't take his eyes away. As he leaned back into his seat, I opened my legs wider. With my elbows resting on my knees and my hands cradling my chin, I arched forward a bit and let my legs spread further apart as I did. All the while I tried to make it look as though I wasn't aware of how much I was showing; like it was all an innocent display. How convincing I was, in my state of inebriation, I couldn't be sure. But he was openly staring straight up my skirt. A flush of blood throbbed through my body as I watched his face, red now, looking almost like his head would explode. His eyes in total concentration, fixated on my now rapidly moistening pussy. My thong with the word SEX emblazoned on it... Ooh, it felt so naughty!

"Ah, here comes Wendy," I said, gently closing my legs as I saw her meandering across from the other side of the bar. From so far away, she couldn't have seen the way I was sitting. In her condition, she must have been battling to see three feet in front of her.

Roger gave out a kind of cough and straightened up his coat.

"What do you think, guys? I'm ready to hit the hay!" Wendy announced as she fell into her seat.

It was late. And I had had a fun evening. Teasing Roger like that was a deliciously naughty way to end a fun night.

Driving back home, I noticed Roger adjusting the rear view mirror. But it wasn't a better view of the traffic in the rear window he was looking for. I noticed him making the odd glance in the mirror – more than the odd glance one might normally expect. He's hoping for a continuation of my little show, I thought to myself.

And I was feeling frisky enough to keep it going too. But not with Wendy sitting in the front like that. Then a heard a gravelly snuffle coming from the passenger's seat – she was snoring.

And Roger kept glancing back at me, watching, waiting. Exposing myself to my friend's man was not exactly a thing of which to be proud, but now she was asleep. And I knew from the look on Roger's face back in the bar that he would never tell Wendy about it. There was as much guilt written on his face as there was lust; it was clear that in this relationship, he'd be pretty much guilty by implication if he told her what I had done. No way was she was ever going to know.

Every now and then I saw him glance over at Wendy, checking if she was still asleep. But he didn't need to - the snoring confirmed it. He was praying she wouldn't wake up. The way he was carrying on gave me a feeling of power, of control. It emboldened me. I caught his gaze a few more times in the mirror. His eyes were pleading: it was unspoken, but he wanted me to show him again.

Look at him looking at you, a voice inside me said: that look on his face - he's dying to see more. Still buzzing from the alcohol, still high from the rush of exposing myself in the bar, I relaxed back into the comfortable, leather seat. I casually let my legs stray open. Just a little bit. I saw his eyes suddenly fix on their target. He was all attention now. He watched my legs in the mirror as I allowed them to spread further apart. Wide. As far as my tight skirt would allow.

He was having a hard time in the driver's seat trying to control the car and watch the show behind him. Lucky it was so late; the traffic was relatively thin. I sat like that for a few minutes, legs apart, pretending to stare out the window while secretly glancing across to catch his gaze. Watching him watching me.

Then I saw him move his hand up to the roof console. He was switching on the interior light. I bit cheeky, I thought, but then I considered the fact that I was the one in the back of the car with my legs spread, wearing panties with the word SEX emblazoned across the front. The cheeky one here is me. But the light illuminated my body in the back set was an acknowledgment that he knew. He knew I was acting deliberately, and it was an invitation for me to go further.

And I wanted to go further, show him even more. Then a devilish notion flashed across my mind.

I took a deep breath as I contemplated what I was about to do. I hesitated for a moment, but then a voice in the back of my head said: he wants it. And you want it. Know you're going to do it.

Pushing the big heels of my black boots hard into the floor of the car, I lifted him hips off the seat. I grabbed the hem of the skirt, and pulled it up around high around my waist and sat back down. I opened my legs again – wider this time, as there was no skirt to get in the way. I looked down at my bare legs, my ass nestling against the plush leather. My legs spread wide across the back of the car. My pussy, shamelessly and openly on display under the black g-string, the word SEX.

I looked into the mirror, smiling at Roger. He looked like he was holding his breath, as though he was about to have a heart attack. Now the poor guy was hardly looking at the road; at this rate we were going to be in a wreck. I motioned with my eyes that he should keep an eye on the road.

With a chastened look, he dutifully obeyed. But not for very long. Before long his concentration was drawn back to the rear view mirror, back to between my legs. I wondered what he must be feeling. His cock must be hard from looking at the little slut in the back of the car. I bet he wants to get it out and jerk off, but he can't because his girlfriend is sitting right there alongside him.

And I was getting more and more worked up myself. I had waded into territory I'd never been before. I felt like I was walking a tightrope. I could feel my lips swelling under his gaze. I was wet. I wanted to touch myself. Wanted him to see. But I couldn't bring myself to go that far. I'd never done that in front of a man before!

I looked down at my body, my bare legs spread wide apart, everything on display. I could see the sexy lace from my bra peeking out under the opening in the top of my jacket. Take it off, said a voice deep inside. Show him.

I took a deep breath. With his eyes back on the road for a few seconds, I unfastened the buttons. Quickly down the row, I undid them all. He was watching again now as I pulled the jacket open to reveal my body, my lacy black bra, my boobs almost spilling out of the low cut design. I held the sides of the jacket wide open around my sides as he watched in fascination. His eyes ran up and down my body, drinking in the image. His forehead was sweating! I wanted to take it all off. But then I thought of Wendy – what if she suddenly wakes up?

My clitoris ached for attention. Should I? Oh yes, you should. Look at him - he wants it. And you want it. I ran my left hand over my exposed thigh, sliding it up and across my abs. Down to my clit. Down to the word SEX. I found the nub. It was engorged. He watched me as I rubbed my forefinger across my clit. I wanted to close my eyes and lose myself in the sensation, but I wanted to see him watching me. My nipples were rock hard under the sexy lace. Roger let out a stifled moan as I slid my right hand across my boobs. He looked like he was about to cum. I continued to play with my clit. I could feel the sensation building in my loins as his gaze burned into my flesh. I grabbed by right breast and squeezed it hard. Ooh. Oohhh!

A red traffic light gave him full opportunity. He looked across at Wendy. There was a look of panic on his face has his right hand went down to his crotch. Good, touch your hard cock, I mused to myself. I wished I could see it, see what I was doing to him. I continued squeezing my breast, feeling the hard nipple poking through the material against my sweating palm. The light had gone green but the car was still stationary. There was no one else on the road. I could see his arm muscles flexing now as he rubbed his hardness as the thought suddenly occurred to me that I had never seen a man masturbate before.

The motion of his hand was slow and deliberate, forceful. Fascinating. Still he glanced across at Wendy as he rubbed his cock, but still came the buzzsaw racket from the passenger's seat at regular intervals. I watched him pleasuring himself as he watched me toying with my clit and boobs. We were nearly at my place now. This was about to end. Then the car jerked as the tyres hit a hole in the road. We had been lucky that's all we hit with how little he was concentrating on his driving. Wendy woke with a gurgle. I quickly adjusted my clothing as we entered my neighborhood.

I got out of the car and leaned into the passenger's window.

"Thanks guys," I said. "I had a lovely night. See you again."

They both said their goodbyes and then the silver sedan drove off into the night. Standing there in the still darkness, the shame I did feel at what I had just done was almost totally overwhelmed by the sexual intensity of the feelings all through my body. Wendy would not have approved, that's for sure. But after that experience, he's going to give her a big workout when they get home, I chuckled to myself. She almost ought to thank me!

Back in my apartment, I stripped off my clothes and threw them on the floor. I lay on the bed, naked, my body still tingling. I reached for the vibrator. Opening my legs, I pushed the head against my lips. I was dripping wet inside. No preliminaries were needed, the big rubber cock just slid straight inside me. I didn't even bother switching it on. I shoved it in hard, banging it inside me as I desperately tried to ease my frustration. I imagined Roger watching me now like this; what a slut, naked, legs apart, fucking myself with a big dildo as he stroked his cock up and down. Harder and harder I thrust it into me, until exhaustion and the alcohol took over and I drifted off to sleep.

The dildo was still inside me when I woke up later in the night, the sheets soaked in sweat, my barely conscious mind awash with dreams of Roger staring down at me from above, grinning wickedly, telling me what a dirty little slut I was, his torso jammed between my wide open legs and his big cock thrusting inside me, hammering me, fucking me.