Dancing Into Her Knickers Pt. 01

At almost the same time as Monica shuddered to an orgasm, thinking of Charles, he was laying full length on the sofa in the lounge thinking of her. And as she imagined that he was fucking her, he was imagining that what was wrapped round his cock was not his hand, but her cunt.

*

They went salsa dancing again a few weeks later and once more Bruce went with them, but after they did not have sex. The next time Charles and Monica went by themselves as Bruce was at a meeting.

She had bought an even more revealing outfit in bright yellow. It was backless so she could not wear a bra, although with her pert tits that was not much of an issue. The hem of the skirt was also scalloped, but both sides were shorter so she hardly had to move before her knickers were on show, something that was not at all uncommon at the class. Her legs were tanned from a week in Florida with Emily so she did not need tights or stockings.

"You look fantastic," Charles said when he collected her.

He had just bought a Porsche and that really is not the preferred car to get into in such an outfit as a salsa dress.

"God if I did not know I was due for an evening of ogling that would have been a special show," he smiled.

"Yes you'll see lots of sights with all those lovely young things dancing around."

Looking Monica direct in the eye, he replied. "I was not talking about ogling them Monica."

That confused her "What then?" she asked feeling incredibly naïve as his meaning hit her.

"I am sure I don't have to explain further do I?" He asked running his gaze up and down her legs and body.

She didn't know what to say as they drove to Wanstead pretty much in silence. It hit her with a little shiver when they were going past the statue of Winston Churchill that this was the first time they had been alone together for ages. Guiltily she thought to myself. 'It's a bit like a date.'

And that is how the evening carried on.

In the bar before the dancing started as she sipped a glass of white wine and Charles had a Jack Daniels, they were very much a couple keeping themselves to themselves. At times, though, Monica felt a little odd being with a guy so many years younger than her and cringed at some of the stares that were suggesting 'toy boy,' but then what the hell? When they danced it was, as always, wonderful, but this time it felt different. She felt more 'attached' to him, her breasts felt more squashed against his broad chest, his stomach seemed to be tighter to hers and his hand ran softer and more smoothly over her bare back. She felt more obviously the strength in his arms and, more worryingly in his thighs as they pressed against hers in the rhumbas and tangos.

Charles was in a total quandary. He had never felt such desire for a woman as he did for Monica. He knew full well that was not caused just by her lovely face, gorgeous body, great legs and to die for arse, but also because she was his step-mother. The taboo, forbidden nature of that relationship added something to the desire that had been with him since he was a schoolboy and had become almost a rage since he had become a man. He and his father had always been competitive, but that had been with sport, or Monopoly or Scrabble, not with women. That, Charles was realising had changing completely.

However, as much a he wanted her, he knew that it was impossible. He was too involved with Camille and there was already talk about marriage and for fuck's sake, his dad would go crazy and would blacken his name wherever he could. Even worse he would probably cut him out of his will! And on top of that, whilst he was becoming convinced that Monica and Bruce's 'love affair' was fizzling out, why would she get involved with him? It was messy, she could have most any man she wanted and there were queues at the golf and tennis clubs and, probably at her gym as well, for her attention. Anything between them was a non-starter, but that did not, of course, prevent him sending out invitations and signals in the hope that she might, just might feel inclined to accept one.

Hence, as they danced he pulled out all the stops. He held her tighter crushing her neat breasts against his chest. He moved his hand around her back loving the feel of her skin on his fingers. He thrust as firmly as he dared his stomach and cock against her and made sure that their thighs came into as much contact as possible.

They hardly spoke on the drive home. Both of them were worried and confused about the sensations and feelings they were experiencing. It had been dawning slowly on both of them that they wanted more, that they wanted to push out the boundaries on their relationship, change it from step-mother and step-son and yes, maybe make love to each other. But they hardly let such thoughts stay in their mind for any time before casting them aside. It was all too dangerous, too risky and fraught with problems. On top of that both had no conviction at all that their feelings were reciprocated by the other and the thought of 'making a play' and being rejected was simply awful.

*

"Are you sure that fucking big thing won't rip my arse apart," the woman said to Bruce when he had asked if she did anal.

"It has never done that so far and I am sure that you're a pretty big girl down there aren't you?"

"You saying that I have a big arse Bruce."

"No of course not he said," running his hand over the rather pert bottom of the woman lying on the bed on her front next to him. "Just that as you have had some er, um anal practice I expect the aperture has widened and the entrance has been loosened."

"Maybe."

"After all you took my two fingers easily."

She reached out and gripped his semi-erect cock. "Yes but they are nothing like this."

They had been in bed for an hour or so. He had made her cum with his hands and mouth and she had sucked him nicely, but not to ejaculation. Even with bits on the side he could rarely cum more than once in an evening so he had not yet fucked her. That's where the anal chat discussion had arisen.

He had been lying beside her sucking her nipples.

"Harder," she asked. He sucked harder. "Bite them." He did. Now bite harder, hurt me." He bit her extended nipple as hard as he dared fearing that he might draw blood. It seemed, though that the harder he bit her the more she moaned and groaned.

Bruce had met pain junkies before and was always a little circumspect with them, but this one was different and unusually was more than willing to take it up the arse although he had not been there, yet.

Still biting her hugely erect nipple very hard he got three fingers up her pussy and started to finger fuck her.

"Yeah, yeah go on Brucey, harder and faster."

He did that until he made her cum noisily and energetically with her nearly screaming and her body bucking like a colt that was not broken in.

Unlike many women she recovered very quickly. Bruce had hardly removed his fingers away from her shaved pussy before he was stroking her again. This time, though, his fingers on his right hand slid along her wet pussy lips and went further into the crease in her bum. He pressed on her hole and she pressed back. It was a little tight between her bum, the backs of her legs and the bed so he lifted them and dangled them over his left shoulder. He could see her swollen, soaked lips between the tops of her thighs and the crease between her cheeks. Pulling one of her legs down his arm a little he opened up her legs and the crease. The lovely, darker, sensitive, puckered skin surrounding her anus was on show. Running his fingers down her wet lips he pressed one right against the hole.

"Yes," she grunted grabbing his cock a little too hard.

His finger slid in very easily and was quickly in past the first knuckle.

"Do two," she told him.

He did and two finger fucked her arse until she had a climax.

*

That evening Monica and Charles went to the salsa dancing again and this time were persuaded to enter a competition.

"Why the hell did we do that?" Charles asked as they drove home.

"God knows," Monica replied acutely aware of just how much leg she was showing as she lay almost flat on the seat of the Porsche on the way home. Not only was she aware of that, but also she had noted Charles' eyes flittering from looking ahead to her legs as he drove through South Woodford. As they completed the last few miles to the house so her brain was buzzing with thoughts. Surely it was all in her mind? Surely a guy of his age and good looks would not be interested in a woman so many years older than him? Surely he would not want to try anything with his father's wife, his step-mother? Would he, she asked herself as once more she saw that he was glancing at her legs?

How Charles stopped himself from reaching out and placing his hand on her knee he had no idea. Her legs looked so inviting and as he drove he felt himself hardening as he imagined stopping in a dark place and running his hand up the inside of her tanned legs until they reached her red panties. 'I wonder, I just wonder?' He asked himself. 'She's so fucking friendly that she just might be up for something. After all we do go dancing and that is a sort of date and when I hold her tight, maybe too tight she does not push me off, he reconciled?

"Well we will have to practice if we want to get anywhere."

*

There's some almond oil in my bag," she said to him an hour or so after enjoying the two finger bum fuck and the conversation about having anal.

"Really?" Bruce smiled leaning over her and licking her nipple. "Now why do I need to know that?"

"Because darling it's time for you to fuck my arse," she said getting off the bed, moving across the room and rummaging through her large Mulberry wag's bag. As she bent over to get it, so Bruce had a glorious view of her pert bum, her lips between her upper thighs and the crease in her bottom.

He began to harden again. It was like that for him now. When he was with one of his bits on the side he would get an erection quite quickly and hold that for maybe half an hour or so as they undressed and played with each other. He would probably then make her cum with his mouth or fingers and after that as they chatted and had a drink while she came down from her orgasm he would go soft. When they got going again the same sort of thing would happen, get hard, mess around and then soften. A couple of times with escort girls or hookers he had not been able to get hard again and that really pissed him off; in his mind, he put it down to brewer's droop!

The trick that he had now to master was choosing the time to cum. Too soon and the fun would be over; and that had happened a few times as well. Twice, particularly sexy women had excited him so much that he had cum within ten minutes or so of them entering his hotel room and what a waste that was as he knew he would not make it again. On the other hand, if he left it too long and had got hard and softened several times, there was some doubt as to whether he would be able conjure yet another erection almost on demand.

So looking at the delicious bum and engorged cunt lips as she got the oil from her bag and thinking about what he was going to he was pleased that he was hardening and knew that now was the time to fuck her and cum.

As she got back on the bed she asked. "How do you want to do this?"

"I don't mind, do you have a preference?"

"Well as you are on the largish size," she said pleased to see that he was almost erect and deciding to help him by stroking it. "Not me on all fours."

"Fair do," he replied pinching her extremely swollen nipple. "How then?"

"Like this," she said laying on her back, pushing a pillow under her bottom, raising her legs so they were almost pressing on her small tits and opened them. Smiling she added. "Give us both something to play with as we do it won't it?"

*

"Look just shut the fuck up," Charles shouted at Camille in her flat in Knightsbridge.

"Why should I?" the half stoned socialite screamed back. "You spend more time with her than with me."

"Wonder why?"

"Because you want to fuck her, that's why."

"But I fuck you, don't I?"

"Yes and you probably fuck her too," Camille replied wondering why the hell she was wandering round her flat in just her knickers at four in the afternoon. 'Where the fuck did the morning go?' she asked herself.

Charles had told Camille that he was going to the house tonight to practice for the competition.

"You are fucking joking aren't you?"

"What?"

"About going out to dreary fucking Essex to practice with her."

"No not at all."

"Are you seriously telling me that you want to do that rather than have dinner at Nubo then the do at Aura."

"Actually Camille yes, I am. I am totally fed up with that bunch you run with."

"Charles please," Camille said moving close to him.

"What?"

"Fuck me."

"Now?"

"Yes right here and now, I want you to fuck me," she said thrusting her small breasts that were almost just nipples at him. At the same time she reached out and grabbed at his cock. Charles backed off a bit.

"Not right now Camille," he replied feeling slightly disgusted at his girl-friend, a feeling that was occurring more frequently recently.

"Come on you know I'm the best fuck in town so get on with it," she said pushing her panties down and exposing her totally bald mons to Charles.

"I said that you can be the best Camille not are the best and in the state you are in you would be fucking useless."

"You cunt," she snarled walking over to the table and picking up her glass of vodka. "You just want to save yourself for that whore of a mother of yours."

"Step-mother, Camille, there is a difference."

"Yeah right you can legally fuck those and not your mum. So go and fuck her and see if she can be the best in town."

The row fizzled out as Camille went and had a shower and Charles left for Essex. The rows were becoming more frequent and verbally violent. Charles put that down to her heavier drinking, the pills and the coke, but there was the possibility that the more he thought about Monica the more he almost looked for arguments with Camille.

And he had though a lot about Monica today, knowing that they would be dancing in the house later. He knew that Bruce was on a business trip to Dublin and that they would be alone. That was partly the reason they had arranged the practice for this afternoon and evening. They could take over the reasonable sized lounge and play the music on her iPod as loud as they like.

When Charles had mentioned practising for the competition, Monica had not realised that would mean them being together in the house alone and dancing. As Charles was waiting for his flat in Docklands to be finished he split his time between the house and Camille's flat. That meant that they were sometimes alone in the house together, but that was not dancing of course. Recently, when it was just the two of them in the house, Monica had felt on edge, a little worked up and nervous. She knew that was because during the past few weeks since the time Bruce had made love to her and Charles came into her mind near to the point of her orgasm, she had been having even more vivid thoughts about her step-son. As he held her when they danced she imagined them both being naked in each other's arms. As they danced and she felt the bulge in his trousers press against her pubic mound so she visualised undoing his zip and holding his penis. At times she even found herself visualising just what his cock was like. All of this was so unlike her. She was generally very level headed about men and rarely had crushes on them or met men she fancied. True for some time the idea of having someone who would provide her with more frequent sex had appealed to her and as she masturbated she imagined that she was being fucked, but she kept her fantasies very general.

Now, though, try as she might the more she danced with him the more, and she could not admit this, she wanted him. The more she wanted to be naked with him, for him to hold and stroke her tingling body, for her to hold, stroke, caress and suck his cock and for them to fuck. Yes she knew deep down in the darkest recesses of her mind that she wanted her step-son to fuck her. But as much as deep down she thought that was what she wanted, she also realised it was impossible and would never happen.

She considered wearing one of the half a dozen dresses she had bought for the salsa, but thought that might be tempting fate too much. 'But then,' she thought as she got ready to greet Charles to their dance practice. 'Was that not exactly what she did want to do - tempt fate?' Rejecting the idea of a dance dress, she knew though that she would have to wear a skirt for that played an essential part in some dances and the shape and angle of her legs had to be very visible for they were important to the points they would score. She decided on a simple blue with yellow motives and markings skirt that was loose and slightly flared and came to just a few inches above her knee. Purposefully, it was more demure than the special salsa dresses she had bought, but it would enable her to 'flash her knickers' as some of the dances, particularly the pasa doble, demanded. On top she wore an equally simple and she thought unsexy and unglamorous, short sleeved, scooped front pullover blouse. It was made from yellow silk and the hem just reached the waist of her skirt so that when she moved an expanse of her waist and chest was exposed.

Charles was wearing a black tee and beige, lightweight, quite loose chinos. Monica thought he looked very sexy; Charles thought that she looked as if she wanted to be fucked.