What Will They Think of Next?

"Are you going to try it on?" Steve asked, before I had a chance to even say thank you.

"Steve, it's lovely, but I'm not sure it's going to be right for Saturday."

Any faint hope that he would take pity on me, was immediately dashed.

"It will be perfect," he said firmly, "especially as the deal is that I get to choose the dress."

"Let me try it on then," I was resigned.

"And no, you can't come and watch, I'll come down when I'm ready and I'll wear it on Saturday, but only if it fits properly."

I took the dress to my bedroom and stripped down to my panties. The dress could not be worn with any sort of bra, it was cut too low in both back and front. I stepped into the dress and pulled it up, reaching behind to fasten the small clip that held the dress in place at the nape of my neck. The cool satin was like a second skin, flowing over my body in a sensuous wave. I turned to face the mirror.

The dress fitted perfectly, it could have been made for me and its colour was ideal for my skin and hair colour. I did a little twirl and looked over my shoulder. Although I say so myself, I looked fabulous, the only problem being that I was more-or-less naked from the waist up. The dress had no back and with the deep slash down the front, my breasts were barely covered. It was far more daring than anything I had ever worn outside the bedroom. I lifted my arms above my head, the shape of my breasts was clearly outlined against the sheer satin. I was decent, but only just.

I sat on the bed, needing moment or two to collect my thoughts before I went downstairs to give Steve his fashion show. Could I go through with it? If I was going to pull out now was certainly the time to do it. I felt out-manoeuvred and exposed, literally and metaphorically, but on the other hand I have never been one to quit and the need to complete what I started was very strong. Added to this, already heady, mix, was something I could hardly bring myself to acknowledge, that small part of me that envied Roz' smouldering sexuality and wished I was more like her.

Standing up I walked to the mirror and turned slowly round. I liked what I saw, the sexy, confident woman looking steadily back at me from the glass. I had a great body, why not show it off? Suddenly, it was as though a light bulb had been switched on in my brain. I knew how to handle the party, and Steve. At last I had a plan. All of a sudden I felt in control.

I delved into the bottom of my wardrobe, looking for a pair of shoes. I knew I had some that would go with the dress, if only I could find them. Eventually I found the box, buried at the back. I put the shoes on and admired the effect in the mirror. Three inch stiletto heels and horribly uncomfortable but they were the perfect foil for the dress. Steve was in for a treat.

I headed downstairs and made my entrance.

"Wow!"

If Steve had been a cartoon character his eyes would have popped out on stalks at this point. Being merely human he just stared, mouth half open, as I entered the room. He looked me up and down and I gave him a catwalk twirl. I had no idea what fantasy he was living when he bought the dress but I clearly lived up to it.

"You are GEORGOUS! " He said.

"I am," I replied. "This outfit will be absolutely perfect for Saturday."

At this Steve looked puzzled, but also relieved.

"Oh, er... great," he hesitated. "You sound surprised," I had him on the back foot.

"Well, yes, I suppose I am a little," he was thoughtful, "I kind of expected you to be a bit, you know..." he trailed off.

"No, I don't know. A bit what?" I was not going to let him off the hook.

"Well, sort of... resistant," he said.

"You mean resistant to having dinner with friends wearing a dress that reveals more of my body than my bikini, or resistant to having an orgasm in front of said friends?"

Sarcasm may well be the lowest form of wit, but it can be very satisfying.

"A bit of both, I suppose."

"No Steve, I'm looking forward to it," I was firm, "it'll be a new experience; for everyone in the room probably. Now come upstairs and you can help me out of this dress."

***

As soon as I could the following morning I got on the phone to Roz. I told her about the dress.

"Jesus, Louise, I can hardly wait to see you in it." Her reaction was entirely predictable.

"You'll see me tomorrow and you'll be amazed," I was business like.

"Roz, I need you to get in touch with the girls and tell them to dress sexy -- tell them it's a theme for the evening or something. I don't even need to ask you, you always dress to kill."

Something in the tone of my voice must have told Roz that I was telling, not asking, because she agreed without question. "And another thing, I want you to sex the place up. Candles, music, whatever you've got."

Again she agreed readily. "You have a plan don't you?" Roz interpreted the signs.

"Yes, and I'm not going to tell you what it is, but just follow my lead, alright?"

She giggled, "I am at your command." We both laughed.

I knew Roz would do what I asked. It would suit her down to the ground to create a bit of erotic charge, and she was an expert in the field. I left work a couple of hours early and went shopping. I wanted some gold body sheen and two pairs of panties that would not show beneath the clinging satin of the dress. Based on the experience from the rehearsal, I expected to have to change them during the evening.

I went home and tried on the whole outfit, including the Senseo. Call it a dress rehearsal. By the time Steve came home I was soaking in the bath, relaxed and satisfied, the panties were in the washing machine and the Senseo was back in its box. I was ready.

***

Saturday arrived and we spent the day pottering about doing the usual stuff. In the morning I took Senseo out of the drawer and passed it to Steve.

"You'd better make sure it's charged. I don't want it running out on me half way." I was nonchalant. He looked a little surprised but took the box from me and busied himself plugging the thing in.

"Don't forget to charge the remote as well," was my parting shot as I disappeared to have my nails done.

Roz had invited us for 7:30 so it was late afternoon when I started to think about getting ready. I filled the bath, adding my favourite French Lime Blossom scented oil. I got Steve to open a bottle of Cava and he brought me an ice cold glass while I soaked myself in the warm, fragrant water, I emerged an hour later wrapped in a warm towel, exfoliated and glowing.

I dried my hair and put on my makeup while Steve was in the shower, then turned my attention to the small pot of body sheen that I had acquired the previous day. I was sitting on the bed, smoothing the cream into my body when Steve came into the room, still towelling his hair dry.

He watched me as I finished applying the cream to my arms and turned my attention to my torso.

"Hey I can help with that," he said as I began to massage the cream between and over my breasts.

"You can do my back if you like," I offered, and he wasted no time in taking a blob of the cream and spreading it over my back. I let him smooth the cream on my back and sides, enjoying the massage.

When he had completed the job to his satisfaction I got up from the bed, let the towel drop from my waist and stood naked in front of the mirror, twisting round to check that the cream was evenly distributed.

It was fine, the upper half of my body shone with a subtle golden sheen which would enhance the rich hues of the dress. It was time for the Senseo.

I turned to Steve who was watching me as though he hadn't seen me naked a thousand times.

"Pass me the Senseo," I said. He unplugged the thing from its charger and passed it over. I switched it on.

"Check it's working before I put it in," I told him. Steve picked up the remote and switched it on. The Senseo sprang to life in my hand.

"OK, switch it off while I put it in." I opened the drawer looking for the tube of lubricant, while Steve looked on goggle eyed. Then a thought struck me.

"I need a bit of lube to get it in. Why don't you oblige?" Steve looked puzzled. I stuck my tongue out and he got the message.

I stood next to the bed and lifted one foot onto it. Steve knelt on the floor between my splayed legs and began licking me. His probing tongue soon found its way, sliding between the inner lips of my pussy and I moaned softly as he sucked on my clit. I toyed with the idea of allowing him to take me all the way to orgasm. It was tempting but I decided to wait and, pushed him away after only a minute or two. He sat back panting slightly. The tell-tale bulge beneath his towel was inviting but off-limits for at least the next few hours.

I took the Senseo and pushed it gently into my pussy, now beautifully open and moist. It slipped in easily and I pressed its curved end tight up against my clit. My new, specially acquired, panties held it firmly in place and I enjoyed the gentle stimulation it delivered as I padded across the room to get my dress.

"Steve, I'll be ready before you, for the first time ever," I said to the hapless man who stood gawking like a schoolboy as I took the dress off its hanger. He snapped out of his trance and began to pull his pants over his still firm erection.

"Shit Louise," he said, panting slightly, "I don't even want to go to the party now, I just want to lay you over the bed and lick all that cream off you."

"Forget it." I was firm. "It's probably poisonous anyway. You're strictly on remote control duty tonight and, you seem to forget, it was your idea in the first place." I stepped into the dress as I spoke and carefully pulled it up, fastening the small clasp behind my neck. The delicious smoothness of the satin brushing against my nipples sent a shiver through my body. I was already feeling hot and we had not even left the house.

Steve dressed in a hurry while I slipped into my shoes and wrapped myself in my pashmina - which served the dual purpose of keeping me warm and preserving my modesty during the short taxi ride to Roz' house.

The taxi journey proved to be quite an interesting experience. As before, sitting down tended to increase the pressure of the Senseo's tip against my clit. Add to that the movement of the taxi as it negotiated the various bumps and potholes that characterise the streets of the City in these days of economic austerity. Further add Steve's teasing bursts of remotely induced vibration and you will perhaps begin to understand the taxi driver's puzzled looks in the rear view mirror at the intermittent and greatly muffled squeaks from his female passenger and the fiendish grin on the face of her partner.

I don't know what he thought but I was glad of a few moments of respite, standing in the cool evening while Steve paid the fare, exchanging pleasantries with the driver.

"Bastard," I hissed, as Steve joined me at the bottom of the short flight of stairs leading to the front door of the elegant Georgian terrace that Roz called home.

"I love it when you talk dirty," he grinned at me and gave me a blip on the Senseo.

My squeal of surprise was drowned by the noise of passing traffic and two minutes later we were inside, the last to arrive as usual. Our welcome from Roz and Dave was effusive as we embraced and made the usual introductory smalltalk.

I was pleased to see that Roz had not let me down. She wore a low cut, short, black number which emphasised her voluptuous figure to the full. Sexy it certainly was and I hoped my message had been relayed to the other girls, waiting to greet us in the living room.

As soon as she decently could, Roz shooed the boys away in the direction of the drinks and they left us without demur.

"Let's see you under the pashmina then," she said as soon as we were alone. I unwrapped myself and allowed the warm garment to slip from my shoulders, revealing the full splendour of the dress.

"My God Louise!" Roz gazed open mouthed, looking me up and down, apparently lost for words. When she eventually found her voice she gushed. "It's gorgeous. You're gorgeous.... but..."

"But what?" I asked, unexpectedly put out.

"Well there's not much of it, is there?" She laughed. "Now I know why you wanted me to dress sexy." She looked down at herself and there was plenty on show to look at. She adjusted her top, exposing even more of her cleavage. "I feel quite covered-up compared to you."

"Everyone is going to be covered-up compared to me, I know that. As long as they're at least flaunting it a bit I'll be fine," I was emphatic.

Roz smiled, "You'll be OK, the girls have followed instructions. The menfolk are not quite sure what's hit them," she paused, "and when you walk in...well," she rolled her eyes and we giggled like naughty schoolgirls. "Have you got the thing in?" She asked.

"Of course I've got it in. I nearly came in the damn taxi. Steve's got the remote and he keeps giving me a little buzz. He must be out of range at the moment, or I expect I'd be getting remotely rogered as we speak. He wouldn't be able to resist it." I confessed then. "I'm feeling really hot Roz, it's the slow build up, the dress, everything, every movement gives me a tiny little high. I think when my orgasm comes it's going to be one to remember."

Roz shrugged her shoulders but remained silent, offering no comfort. I sighed, "Might as well get the show on the road."

My entrance into the living room caused the anticipated stir. The hum of conversation died as I followed Roz through the door. The men stared goggle-eyed unsure where to look first. They didn't need to undress me with their eyes, I was already mostly undressed.

Steve shifted his gaze from me to the other guests, smirking. Luckily I saw his hand reach into his pocket, so I was ready and able to stifle a moan when he switched the Senseo on.

That broke the spell. "Hi everyone," I said brightly, "Sorry we're a bit late." The chatter resumed and the girls gathered round.

"What a wonderful dress"

"Wow Louise, You look fabulous."

"Very daring darling."

I let the girl-talk wash over me, controlling the urge to scream as the Senseo continued to do its work. I looked round the room trying to distract myself. Roz had done a great job as I knew she would. There were scented candles, and music too. I giggled inwardly, Marvin Gaye's 'Lets get it on' was playing softly in the background, Roz and subtlety did not go together.

A small bronze sculpture stood in one corner, depicting a naked couple with the man seated and the woman, head thrown back, sitting astride him, his face buried between her breasts.

The assembled company divided along gender lines with the men and women clustered in two small groups, each engrossed in their own conversations. Steve was obviously playing a waiting game. I could see his tactics. He kept the Senseo off most of the time, but periodically switched it on for 30 seconds or so. This had the triple benefit -- from his perspective -- of a) keeping me hot, b) preserving the battery for the main event and c) maximising the opportunity of my letting out an embarrassing and hard to explain squeak at the unexpected burst of activity between my legs.

Somewhat to my surprise I found myself easily able to cope with this. True I did let slip the odd muffled squeal, attracting a quizzical glance or two along the way but nothing so overt as to merit comment.

After half an hour of enjoyable chit-chat Roz disappeared into the kitchen and five minutes later we were summoned to the table. Our hostess, fussing around like a mother hen, arranged us round the table, alternating the sexes and making sure that nobody sat next to their partner.

Roz sat herself opposite me, directly across the circular table and I found myself sitting between Dave, her husband, and Mark, who I only vaguely knew. Steve, much to his chagrin, was seated to the side where his view of the proceedings was less than perfect. He may not have been in optimal position but there was no doubt that Steve was easily in remote-control range. Almost as soon as we were sat down he switched the Senseo on.

As before, being seated pressed the Senseo more firmly against my clitoris, increasing the sensations centred on its gently vibrating tip. I found that by raising my feet on tiptoes I could lift my thighs a little way off the chair and reduce the pressure slightly.

I slipped off my shoes and sat in this position, legs slightly apart trying to stem the slowly mounting river of feeling that I knew would eventually engulf me.

The starter was delicious, a delicate mixture of pink and white grapefruit with plump, juicy, king prawns on a bed of salad and carefully carved avocado pear.

The conversation slowed as we enjoyed the wonderful food. I focused on the explosion of flavour as a temporary distraction from the insistent pulse of the Senseo, working its magic down below, but, inexorably, my arousal increased. With only my toes resting on the floor my calf muscles began to ache with the strain but each time I tried to relax by placing my feet flat I was rewarded by a burst of sensation that I could not help but vocalise. "Mmmm, mmm, lovely... " I was able to translate my moans of pleasure into complements over the food. If I seemed a little over-enthusiastic nobody seemed to notice. There were similar expressions of approval from around the table.

Dave seemed oblivious, engrossed in a conversation with his other neighbour, but Mark sensed something was going on. He looked at me with a surprised expression after I allowed a particularly obvious whimper of pleasure to escape.

I saw him look me up and down, his eyes lingering over the deep slash in my dress and the pale skin of my breasts revealed beneath. The twin peaks of my nipples, already rock hard and minutely sensitive, stretched the sheer fabric that covered them and Mark stared as though transfixed by the sight. He turned away quickly, when he realised that I had noticed his interest.

Perhaps it was the wine, or maybe just devilment overcame me. Without looking at Mark I leaned forward, just an inch or two, but enough to allow the fabric of the dress to open up. I did not need to see his reaction to the glimpse of nipple that I had given him, the spluttering and choking noises that came from my right as he inhaled a slug of wine said all that was necessary.

I thumped him on the back with an outer expression of concern while inwardly rejoicing at the effect my simple exhibitionist act produced.

Roz pushed her chair back, ready to clear the starter plates away. I saw my opportunity and without even pausing to put on my shoes, leapt to my feet with an offer of help. Roz seemed about to refuse but she caught my eye and understood. "Thanks, Louise," she said, "please stay put everyone, only room for two in the kitchen."

She instructed Dave to deal with the wine and I gratefully followed her into the kitchen.

Mercifully, as the door swung shut behind us, the throb of the Senseo died -- I was out of range.

"Thank God," I breathed a sigh of relief and leaned on the kitchen counter for support.

Roz looked me over. "You look quite hot and bothered," she said with a wry smile, "and what have you done with your shoes.

"I left them under the table." I held a hand up as I saw the question forming on her lips. "No, don't ask, I'll tell you later, and I am Hot. With a capital aitch, didn't you hear me?"

Roz grinned, " as it happens I did, but I thought you did rather well. I'm pretty sure that I'm the only one apart from Steve who knows what's going on."

"Mark suspects something." I told her about the nipple flash.

Roz bust out laughing. "Hey!" She said. "That's my speciality, or at least it used to be." A wistful expression stole over her face, but only briefly.

"Poor boy, he might have choked," she said. For a moment I considered the possibility. Having someone die at the table would certainly get me off the hook -- especially if it was Steve. At this juncture I would willingly have killed him but Roz flatly refused my only half-joking suggestion that we put weed killer into his food.