Would Like To Meet. No Strings Ch. 06

"I... am I ugly or t-too old to be attractive?" she sobbed and sniffed.

"No, not at all Madam," he said, glancing at her neckline, and at the frontal embellishment of her dress over her midriff and breasts.

"I... I bet you're just saying that to make me feel b-better," she replied, giving a forced laugh.

"Not at all, Madam, I really mean it. You really are an attractive woman," he said, giving her bare shoulder a gentle rub. "Any husband of yours who even looks at another woman needs his head examining!" he added.

"It... it's good of you to say so... -- your name's David, isn't it?"

He nodded, gazing into her mascara-streaked face.

"As I say, I mean it, Madam... I mean, if I... no, sorry..." Even though it was only role-play he blushed at the intimacy, the intensity of it all. He had long had a leaning for role-play for precisely this reason, though it had been unfulfilled until his first encounter with Joan.

"I... I think 'Madam' is a bit formal. Call me Mrs. Martin. Or even Joan."

"I er... right, thanks, Mrs. Martin. Listen, I really must be getting back..."

He stood up but she tugged him back beside her again.

"In a minute, darlin'."

Again, although she had called him this many times before, its significance in the present context sent a thrill of excitement down his spine.

"What were you going to say before you went tongue-tied, David?" Her arm was resting on his. He noticed that her arm was trembling slightly -- then he realised that so was his.

"I... no, really, I nearly blurted something out. I'm glad I didn't," he said, waving his arm as if to dismiss the horror of it.

"Tell me -- darlin'" she urged.

"No, really, it... it's... I don't know what almost came over me..." he fumbled.

"Oh alright then, I won't insist, David. You've made me feel a bit better telling me I'm not ugly and that my husband needs his head examining. I suppose men my husband's age might still find me attractive..."

Joan looked down at her feet -- her white-sandalled and white-stockinged feet. She was relishing every moment of this cat-and-mouse game. Although it was not for real, it was nevertheless juicy and, besides, the outcome was inevitable.

David gave her shoulder a tight squeeze.

"I er... I didn't mean just that men your own age should find you attractive. I... I should think that er... most blokes would find you so -- whatever their age." He glanced down at his bulging trousers.

"Oh, I don't know about that!" she laughed, trying to make it sound brittle and still half-anguished. She placed her hand on his thigh. "I can't imagine someone like you..."

"I... er... " He coughed to clear his dry throat. "I must be getting on now, Mrs. Martin. But... I did mean what I said about being sure that even younger blokes must find you attractive. And... well, if you must know, sexy, too... Anyway, Mrs. Martin, I really must be getting back to my duties. It's a busy night downstairs with the... I mean with YOUR reception taking place. Why don't you dry your eyes and go back down there yourself? You could push -- was it Brenda? -- out of the way and have a nice dance with your husband... I'm sure when he sees you he will only have eyes for you."

"I doubt that very much. You don't know him. Still, I suppose you're right about my needing to go back downstairs" she replied, in a resigned tone.

He stood up to leave. She hadn't told him much of the detail, and the wedding attire had truly been a delicious shock to him, but she had said to him in advance that he must try to leave her room.

"Before you go, David -- the bathroom..."

"The BATHROOM, Mrs. Martin?" He tried to sound sceptical and exasperated, but doubted whether he had managed.

"Yes. The en-suite -- I need to wash my face and freshen up before I go back down to my reception. But there... there's a spider in the washbasin. I... I hate the things. Please -- please can you... deal with it?"

"I see. A spider, hmmm?" He raised his eyebrows sceptically. "Yes, alright then, Mrs. Martin. I'll deal with it, and then I really MUST be going..."

He went into the bathroom and after a moment or two flushed the toilet. He returned to the bedroom. She was standing up now, and had dabbed off most of her runny mascara.

"It's gone, Madam," he announced formally.

"Thanks, darlin'. For everything..."

She smiled. He went to the bedroom door that led back to the corridor. He turned the door handle. His palm was sweating. The door handle did not budge. He turned to face her. She had the room key and its fob in her hand. She waved it teasingly at him, then, to his surprise she tucked it down her neckline.

"Now's the time to show me whether it was just words about finding me sexy, darlin'. If you want to leave you'll have to get the key first!"

"Please, Mrs. Martin! I... I could lose my job and get a terrible reference for any others! Please give me the key. PLEASE!"

The sound of the disco filtering into the rooms made it easy to raise his voice a little without fear of being overheard.

"Don't be shy, darlin'. Joan isn't! Look, I'll make it easier for you... to retrieve. Look..."

He did indeed look. She sat on the end of the bed facing him and placed her hands behind her back. He heard the sound of her zip sliding down and saw her dress become looser. She slid the bust of her wedding dress down.

Sticking out from between her breasts was the key and its fob. Enshrining her mature, ample breasts was a white corset. Most of it was still hidden by her dress, but he could see some of the criss-crossed laces and Joan's soft-looking skin between. He had only ever seen such garments before in mail order catalogues and in porn magazines. His mouth opened and though he could only see a part of it he simply stared, his mouth still gaping a little.

He looked into her face. She raised her eyebrows and ran her tongue slowly and provocatively over her pink-glossed lips.

Then she flopped backwards and at the same time wantonly lifted her long, white, layered dress. The outer layer veiled her face thinly. But his eye was not drawn to her face.

She was wearing flimsy-looking, white, lacy panties. Through them he could see a small patch of dark hair that he realised she must have trimmed. Her legs were not slender but not fat either. As he gazed she parted them. They were gorgeously fleshy and her stockings were white and shiny. Above her stockingtops her plump thighs were very enticing.

"David, darlin', you said you found me sexy. Prove it. I can see that cock bulging big and hard inside your trousers. There's only one way to relieve it. Come to Mrs. Martin and give her a good seeing to. I'm not a virgin, though I've kept myself unsullied for quite a while, even from my bridegroom, especially for tonight. Bastard! He doesn't deserve my near-chastity -- or my bloody fidelity..."

He gazed at her face, half-hidden by the outer, fine-lace layer of her dress. Her bridal veil was spread on each side of her head on the pillow.

He felt a surge of desire, yet he also felt a bit awkward; although this was role-play and the details did not correspond, he sensed some genuine vitriol in her outburst.

"Come and take Joan, darlin'. My husband will no doubt have me later on my wedding night -- if he's sober enough to manage it. But I want you inside me first! Come and spoil me for him, darlin'! Come and sully me! Now, David... come and fuck me. Right here and now! I want it -- and so do you!"

He laughed softly and shook his head in disbelief. Until recently he had hardly ever heard her use strong language, and her crude words stirred him powerfully. Her behaviour was also shockingly lewd but highly arousing: Joan the cheated-on bride, awaiting her groom's attentions yet begging to be despoiled first by a stranger...

"Well, Mrs. Martin -- JOAN -- if you put it like that, it would be rude not to! And I DO want to prove that I think you're sexy! Here's the proof, you sexy, naughty bride!"

His words sounded corny and clumsy, but the whole role-play thing was only for fun, not like acting out for entire realism.

As he said "here's the proof" he showed her. He unfastened his trousers and boxers and eased out his solid erection. He took it in his hand and brandished it at her.

"Oooh, darlin'!" she crooned.

"Come and kneel by my face," she said enticingly. "It's very hard already -- and very big, too -- but let Mrs. Martin see if she can make it even bigger, even harder -- though we'll have to be fairly quick..."

He slid the white cotton gloves off. He was glad to be wearing slip-on shoes; he kicked them off, tugged off his socks, and slid his trousers and boxers off, draping them over the armchair. He unbuttoned his waistcoat and placed it with them and stepped to join her.

He knelt on the bed by her face and pulled the room key from the top of her white corset. He tossed it onto the bedside cabinet. He loosened his tie, swung it to the back of his neck, and hurriedly unbuttoned his shirt.

He ran his hands over the tops of her breasts, thrilling in the way her flesh yielded to his touch. Her hand encircled his throbbing shaft and tugged on it a few times. He groaned.

He pushed his hand down her stiff corset and eased her breasts free. He squeezed them gently and scooped them from side to side. They were perfect -- squashy enough to surge and sway mesmerisingly, yet firm enough not to sag entirely. He stared at the rude sight of her, her wedding dress bunched around her waist to show her white corset, breasts and her panty-clad crotch. Her exposed thighs looked inviting in the white, shiny stockings and suspenders.

He stared at her hand, and at her wedding ring -- newly polished and shining almost as if new -- as she pulled his hardness to her mouth. The first time he had sex with her she had not worn it, though she had subsequently. She told him that although divorced she wore it to discourage male atttention. To see it now, and so well polished and new-looking was another luscious detail she had added to the scenario. He groaned.

Joan gazed at his wonderstruck expression. She had not yet given David oral sex, determined to build up their sexual relationship slowly to maximise its intensity and to prolong his interest. And she was not going to do so right now, either. Instead she watched his eager, almost pained expression as she rubbed his glistening top against her cheek and under her chin.

"We haven't got long, darlin'. Play with my pussy -- my mature-bride pussy -- and get her ready for your big, hard, YOUNG cock..."

He fondled her mound and her slit through her flimsy white panties. He could feel her wiry, short-cropped hair. He was slightly disappointed; his girlfriend (their relationship was new and as yet fairly casual) was completely shaved, and he had enjoyed the novelty of Joan's fairly verdant growth, even though she kept it trimmed away from her pussy lips. Joan read his expression and smiled to herself at the surprise that awaited him down there.

He stared at the sensual movement of her ample breasts as they swayed and rocked in harmony with the movement of her hand on his erection. Again he gazed at the illicit sight of her wedding ring as she played with him. He stared, entranced, as she rubbed it slowly across her lips and parted them.

She turned her face towards him. Her short dark hair was framed by her bridal veil. She poked out her tongue. She slapped his chubby manhood against her tongue, and he saw his pre-cum ooze out and onto it. She licked her lips and swallowed. Then she slapped his erection against her cheek. Her skin glistened rudely with her saliva and his man-juice. He let out a soft moan.

As if the sensation and the sight were not enough, to cap it all, this was none other than his former neighbour, for whom he had lusted over several years. He had masturbated to visual images of her times without number. And here she was, dressed like a mature bride yet acting like a porn star. It was unbelievable. He knew the images would stay with him for the rest of his life.

She was thrusting against his hand as he stroked and rubbed her pussy and clit through her panties, which were now moist with her juices. Her breathing was becoming shallower.

"Do it, darlin'. Take that big, young, bloody cock and screw me. Shoot it all inside me and sully me for him..."

David needed no further encouragement. He fondled her thighs, playing with her suspenders and bare skin.

"Hurry, darlin'! We haven't got long, I'm afraid," she muttered.

He grabbed her flimsy white panties and tugged them down. Again he gasped at the sight that met his eyes. Her lips were puffy and swollen, and her folds were very alluring. But instead of being offset by dark, silky hair she was almost shaven. All that remained was a patch of very short-cropped wiry stubble above her hood. She had trimmed and shaved it into the shape of a heart.

"Bloody hell, Joan, bloody hell!" he said in delight, the role-play temporarily set aside as they both laughed. He stroked the coarse stubbly hair and the turgid flesh below.

"Hurry, darlin'!" she groaned. Do it! Fuck Mrs. Martin. Hard and fast. Before we get caught. Fuck me... NOW!"

He dragged her panties down to her parted knees but left them there, strung rudely between them. Joan gave a sharp intake of breath as he entered her, enjoying this moment as much as the thrusts inside her.

She drew his face to her breasts and he nuzzled and sucked on her tender breasts. She slid her hands inside his open shirt and stroked his back and clasped him to her. Almost immediately his thrusts quickened and deepened, and although he was capable of holding on for a fair time, she liked the idea of a more frantic pace right now -- and so did he. There would be time for relaxed and tender sex later.

They were both grunting gutturally. He managed to get his hand between his groin and hers and rubbed her swollen clit as he slammed into her. Her breasts surged against his face, and the fabric of her dress and corset rubbed against his chest.

"Shoot it, big man! Shoot it all inside me! Ohhh yes, go on, take this naughty bride before he gets to, go on.... ohhhh..."

He was impelled by her words and by his pent-up excitement. Her vitriolic outburst and the secret revenge element drove him, too. He vaguely remembered her ex-husband Paul, and felt something of Joan's hurt at his cheating behaviour.

He upped his pace and, to his surprise, found himself thinking as he did so, "Shame on you, Mr. Martin, cheating on her like that! This is for you, you cheating bastard of a husband - I'm getting what you once had - all thanks to you - and serves you bloody right, too!"

He came very quickly but remained inside her as, a few moments later, she came against him, her body grinding up against his, her pussy mashing, tugging and squeezing his slowly-dwindling subsiding erection, and her hands clasping him tightly.

He rolled off her, his heartbeat slowing very gradually. They kissed and cuddled, and laughed softly at the naughty scenario they had enacted and delighted in. He ran his hand over the stiff fabric of her corset and stroked the bare skin of her midriff between the criss-crossed laces. She brushed a tear from her eye as she felt the elation of her secret payback on her ex-husband Paul. Then she pushed David away gently.

She smiled a wicked smile.

"Oh David, that was so damn good! But Laurence will be here soon," she said. "His turn for naughty role-play. The door is still locked, so he'll have to knock. I'll stall for a few moments -- I told him to expect that."

She stroked David's chest and teased his nipple with her fingernail.

"While I stall letting him I want you to hide in the wardrobe, with the door slightly ajar," she added softly. "You can watch us for a few minutes. Then when he goes into the bathroom you must get dressed quickly and return to your room -- for a while. Get a bit of sleep if you can - you'll need it, darlin'! I'll come and see you later -- pretending to sneak out of my bridal bed while my husband is out for the count, and I'll slip into your bed for an hour or so. Then I'll return to him - or maybe even bring you back with me! We'll have to see!"

David shook his head and blushed at the delicious, shocking incredulity of it all.

"I'd better go and have a wash for now though," Joan added. "You've had your turn for now -- soon it will be Laurence's!"

David stared as she stepped out of the wedding gown and stepped to the bathroom, thrilled by the sight of her mature, curvy figure in her white corset, stockings, suspenders and heeled sandals. Her well-rounded bum cheeks were framed by the inverted U shape of her corset, and wobbled slightly as she walked. The flesh of her thighs -- framed by her white suspenders -- rippled subtly as she stepped into the bathroom.

He felt ashamed of his behaviour. It seemed especially sordid to be taking turns with Laurence for Joan's sexual favours. But he knew full well that the tawdry nature of it all was a large part of its intense delight - for her as much as for him and Laurence. He smiled as she closed the bathroom door behind her.

TO BE CONTINUED...