Distressed Bridesmaid

"I would like that, Claire, but I don't want to be tied up all weekend."

"You won't be. I'll release you now, but..."

"But what?"

"I'd like to see David in a bridesmaid's dress, going commando, as I will, so that we are ready for sex anytime."

A quarter of an hour later I was wearing the largest bridesmaid's dress normally over a multi-hooped petticoat and Claire was dressed the same. After breakfast we sat on the settee with coffee.

"What are you going to do about him?" I asked.

"He's history. I don't want to see him again. But I'm not going to the Police. You didn't take any pictures last night of me as a helpless bundle?"

"No. My phone was downstairs without a charge."

"And even if you had, there would be only my word that he did it. I suppose it would count as sexual assault but apart form tying me up he didn't DO anything. As a Police case? It would probably be shelved unless he did anything again."

"You're going to let me get away with it?"

"What else could I do? It took six months before he did anything. I don't think he is a serious risk. Of course, I will tell all my female friends to avoid him. I think that would be enough."

"You're sure?"

"Yes. I have my rescuer David to protect me, not that I expect him to be back. Perhaps I should thank him for literally making me a bundle for David to collect."

"I'd rather kick him hard in the balls for endangering your life."

"Forget him. Breakfast?"

Claire had to demonstrate how to sit wearing a large, hooped petticoat. I managed after three attempts but still felt ridiculous.

"I suppose we ought to do the work now," Claire said. "What have you got to do?"

"Edit a report on an archaeological dig two weeks ago. I sent it to the dig leader and have to incorporate his comments and generally tidy it up, and you?"

"Just check my schedule for next term and finish off an essay set for the break. When does your PhD course end, David?"

"It's ended. I am waiting for my final marks but I think they will be good. When they are announced my job interview result might be known soon afterwards."

"Job? What job?"

"I have applied to be a junior reader at the University. If not? I have a fall-back. I work at the local supermarket on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday evenings from 6 pm to midnight as a shelf stacker. They have offered ne a junior management post if I want to go full time."

"Supermarket? That must have been where I saw you recently. I work Monday to Friday evenings as a cashier, from 6 pm to 9 pm, but you're not there this weekend?"

"No. I had been invited to two parties on London on Friday and Saturday nights. I had been working overtime during the last fortnight, Monday to Friday, covering for a friend who injured his wrist playing tennis. He is back now, but I was paid for some of the hours as overtime and the rest as time in lieu this weekend."

"What's your PhD about and why are you still here. David?"

"PhD? I have an MA in Archaeology and my PhD is about dating Roman pottery -- not the expensive Samian ware. We can date even a fragment of that to within 50 years and if there is a maker's mark to an individual, a location and probably to a decade. My work is on the fake Samian ware -- the cheaper sort that tries to imitate Samian. It is like the difference between crockery from a discount store and high-end porcelain.

For the first 100 years the fakes are obvious. They are much thicker and coarser than Samian and made locally. The raw material is far coarser than Samian. Typically, they are three times as thick and the decoration is very crude. Later ones are better, thinner, but the decoration is still not as good as real Samian. For the last 100 years of the Romans in England the fakes are nearly good enough to fool most people -- like fake Gucci handbags."

"And you succeeded?"

"Yes and no. I have established a check list for identifying the types of fakes and the possible age down to about 50 years. It is a start, but many other people will have to build on my work as more fake Samian is examined."

"OK. But you didn't answer the second question, David. Why are you still here in student accommodation when you finished at the end of term?"

"I'm renting for four weeks as if I was a summertime tourist. In two weeks' time I will move into the small house I have bought. It was in a bad state and the builders are renovating it for me. It has been re-roofed, has new double-glazed windows, is being rewired and re-plumbed. It will have a new bathroom and kitchen. The builders hope to finish next Friday but I have allowed a week if they overrun."

"Where is your house, and what's it like?"

"It's about half a mile from here, is a Victorian two-bedroom detached house with a garage and off-road parking for three vehicles. Until about fifteen years ago it had been a student let until the new accommodation blocks were built. Even then the wiring was dangerous and wouldn't pass safety checks. The owner lent it to his grandson and granddaughter. But he died last year and their inheritance meant they could buy houses for themselves. It was cheap because of the work needed and I too had an inheritance from a great-aunt so I could buy it outright and pay for the work to be done."

"That's fortunate."

"It is. I was trying to build a deposit for a mortgage but I wasn't really earning enough at the supermarket. Once I have a full-time job I will be financially secure. That reminds me. Why do you have to be at the University on Monday morning? It is the summer vacation."

"I have another job. The university lets out the more modern student accommodation for tourists. Not this one. It is an older block with no parking and surrounded by yellow lines. On Saturdays from 10 am to 4 pm I am cleaning the rooms that were occupied and will be occupied from 4 pm onwards. During the week I clean rooms that weren't occupied this week, clean corridors, stairs etc. and am available for any cleaning jobs that might occur. I work Monday to Friday from 9 am until 4 pm. I don't work Sundays."

"Does it pay well, Claire?"

"Not really, David. About 5% more than the basic wage but it is a help to my costs for my degree."

+++

We sat at the table with our laptops. I had to show Claire how to connect to my wireless printer so she could print off next tern's schedule and her book list. I was making pen notes on a printout of my report when I dropped the pen. It rolled under my large hooped skirt. I cursed. I had to stand up and the skirt got in the way as I tried to pick the pen up. Claire picked it up for me.

"This skirt is a nuisance," I said. "I can't wear it all day."

"That's a shame. But I'll show you when we've finished work what the advantages are, then you can change."

"I can change? I can't get the dress off without help, Claire."

"OK. I will help but after..." Claire blushed.

+++

About an hour later, we had finished our work and ad a cup of tea. Claire demonstrated the advantages of going commando under a large skirt.

I was leaning against the kitchen worksurface. Claire's head was bulging the skirt below my waist and her mouth was giving me a fantastic blow-job. All I could see of her were her feet protruding under the skirt's hem but then I was lost as she brought me close to ejaculation again and again. She was very skilled at knowing when to ease off, when to stop, and when to start again. Finally I came into her mouth and she emerged red-faced, from under the skirt.

"You see what I mean?" she asked.

I could only nod.

A quarter of an hour later it was my turn under Claire's skirt. Her hands were holding my head through the skirt and directing where my tongue should go. I was swamped under the layers of petticoats and satin skirt, breathing her perfume -- when I could breathe, It was a fantastic sensation, lost inside her skirt with her sex easily available. I couldn't see or feel anything except Claire's body and her clothes holding me tightly as she pressed down on them.

I kept going for over half an hour as Claire's wriggles above me got more and more frantic as each orgasm hit her. When I finally emerged we were both red-faced and we needed coffee to calm us down.

+++

Half an hour later I was dressed normally and Claire was wearing a denim skirt and a skinny top.

About 12. 30 we were preparing a light lunch when there was a noisy car outside. Claire peered around the edge of a window. I looked out too. He parked on a double yellow line and got out before walking towards the building.

"It's him," Claire said.

"OK. Stay out of sight. I'll meet him."

I left the door slightly ajar so Claire could hear everything. As he was coming up the stairs, I took a photo with my mobile phone. I blocked the top of the stairs.

"She's long gone, "I said. "Go away."

"But..."

"If you don't go, I'll call the police and accuse you of kidnapping, false imprisonment, sexual assault and possibly attempted murder. Just fuck off!"

"But where is she?"

"Possibly with her parents. If you go there, I'm sure her parents will call the police. If you go away, I won't. She might."

"And if I don't go?"

"I'll kick you down the stairs and then call the police. Fuck off!"

He looked at my size and stance and went back down the stairs. I heard him drive off. I went back to Claire.

"Thank you, David. I think you scared him."

"I should have kicked him in the balls but he has gone. It would have been awkward if I had still been wearing the bridesmaid's dress. He would have known you were with me."

+++

After lunch, Claire wanted to see my house. We walked there. I hadn't been since Thursday. Claire noticed the car on the drive.

"Yours, David?"

"Yes. Which reminds me. How about I load your suitcase in it and collect you after work tomorrow? That would mean you don't have to carry the suitcase on a bus."

"That would be good. I am afraid he might turn up at the bus stop. He knows which bus I catch and when. But your car looks expensive. Was it?"

"Not really. It is a Lexus, basically a high-end Toyota, but it was a company car, about five years old and with high mileage. I bought it cheaply at an auction. When I'm in my house I might change it to a smaller car. Although I don't drive very far, the fuel consumption is high."

"Why didn't you put it in the garage?"

"The garage is full of the builders' tools and equipment. It is very secure because the previous owner used to keep appliances for his student lets in it. When I bought the house there was still a brand-new washing machine and fridge freezer."

"Useful."

"Yes. Let's go in the house."

I was surprised. Although all the furniture in every room was covered in dust sheets it looked as if only the kitchen and bathroom weren't quite finished. The built-in oven and grill needed to be fitted into their casing and the newly plastered walls in the kitchen and bathroom were dry and just needed painting. It looked as if they would be finished before Friday.

Claire was impressed with the house. Although it only had two bedrooms, both were large. I could see putting ensuites in both at a later date and they would still easily take a king-sized bed and furniture. She liked the updated kitchen best.

We went to a coffee shop because the electricity wasn't connected in the house and probably wouldn't be until the oven and grill were installed.

"David? I'm worried he might turn up tomorrow evening."

"Why?"

"He knows that I finish at the supermarket at 9 pm and I catch the last bus to the village across the road at 9.20. He's met me at the supermarket several times."

"Where did you meet him?"

"At the customer entrance,"

"Then there's no problem. You come out of the staff entrance at the back and I'll be in the staff car park. Why not? I am staff too."

"But he might see me in your car."

"It has dark tinted windows at the back. If you sit well back on the seat he won't see you. He doesn't know what car I own or even if I have one."

"OK, I think."

"Even if he does approach you, I'll be close to tell him to get lost."

"Thank you, David. I've blocked his number of my mobile phone. He has tried to ring a dozen times today already."

+++

We went for a walk around the city centre, not bothering with bridal shops. I had booked an evening meal in a nearby restaurant. Claire was surprised that I had chosen an expensive one. Since my inheritance, my finances were in much better shape, even after buying and renovating the house.

Over the restaurant meal we just talked about each other and our families. Claire was studying history and hoped to get a job at a local stately home when she qualified. In term time she volunteered on Saturdays but not during the summer vacation. Working six days a week at the university as a cleaner and six evenings as a supermarket cashier left her no free time except Sundays.

I was helping out at a local archaeological dig before a new housing estate was to be built. I worked there Mondays to Fridays because they had more volunteers at the weekend, and of course, Friday Saturday and Sunday evenings I was at the supermarket.

Claire and I seemed to be on the same wavelength on most things. We were getting on well together as people, not just sexual partners.

But Sunday night, Claire tied me up again before riding me while she wore her bridesmaid's dress. She had put the other two dresses, in their bags, and all three hooped petticoats, in Rachel's rooms.

Claire woke me up at 6 am so I could practise more cunnilingus under her bridesmaid's dress. She began very aroused and I was struggling to breathe when an orgasm hit her but I survived.

She put the final bridesmaid's dress in Rachel's rooms before she left for work.

+++

At 9 pm I was by the staff entrance and collected Claire. I had already loaded her suitcase.

As we drove past the bus stop Claire shrank back in her seat and said:

"That's him, waiting for me."

"Don't worry," I said. "He can't see you. He'll wait in vain."

"But tomorrow evening he'll know I am on a check out from 6 to 9. He could find me there."

"Have you got pictures of him, Claire?"

"Yes."

"Show them to the security staff and tell them he's harassing you. I'll collect you again tomorrow night. I can't on Friday because I'm on duty until midnight but he might have got the message by then."

"If not, I'll wait for you in the staff rest room, or do some overtime if it is on offer."

+++

We pulled outside Claire's parents' house about half an hour before she would have arrived by bus. I carried Claire's suitcase up the front path. Claire's mother opened the door.

"You're early, Claire."

"David brought me. He's my new boyfriend."

"What happened to..."

Claire interrupted.

"He's history. This weekend was make or break and he broke it seriously. He's weird. If you don't mind, I won't mention him again."

"Oh dear, and he seemed so nice."

"Seemed is the right word. He wasn't. David works at the same supermarket as me. His younger sister Moira is one of Rachel's friends so I've known of him for years."

"OK, come in. I'll make tea."

"David? Could you carry the suitcase up to my room? I'll show you where, and then you can take ny dress to Rachel to add to the dry cleaning."

"Can she carry all that?"

"Yes. She has a car, parked on a friend's drive about four hundred yards away."

Once we were in her bedroom Claire said:

"It's my salmon pink bridesmaid dress. It doesn't need cleaning but it will do for sex play."

Even in its dress bag the dress and petticoats filled the back seat of my car.

Over the tea I met Claire's father and mother. They were slightly surprised that Claire seemed so happy with me so soon after dumping 'him' but I seemed to get on well with them.

Claire startled me by telling her parents that from tomorrow night, Tuesday, until Friday evening she would be staying with me to avoid 'him'.

"He's been following me. He was at the bus stop tonight but I was in David's car. If he rings here, I'm not in, you don't know where I am except I'm staying with friends and I do NOT want to talk to him or meet him again -- ever."

"That bad?" Her dad asked.

"Yes -- or worse. What he did was unforgivable."

"Are you OK, Claire?"

"Yes, thanks to David."

Claire left it at that. She packed and gave me a small suitcase with her things for the week. I would collect her after work and the two of us would drive to my house, park the car, and walk to the accommodation block. I left about 10 pm. I had to park my car on the double yellow lines -- not valid after 6 pm -- and unload Claire's dress, petticoat bag and suitcase before parking the car back at my house.

Tuesday during the day I was at the archaeological dig for several hours, helping to date and assess finds. I collected Claire from the back of the supermarket just after 9pm. On the walk between my house and the block, we waited for pizza to take back with us.

Claire was tired. She had had a call from her checkout manager at 8 am. Three daytime checkout staff had rung in sick. Could Claire cover during the day as well as her evening shift? Claire's father had run her in on his way to work and she had started at 9 am, working until 5 pm with a half-hour lunch break. She had then worked her normal shift from 6 until 9.

She would be required to repeat that tomorrow. One of the three might be back but that was doubtful. For Thursday and Friday, someone else would be covering the day shift if needed.

We went to bed early. Claire was wearing a short cotton nightdress. She settled on my shoulder and was asleep in minutes. Nothing happened that night, or Wednesday night except the two of us slept side by side.

On Thursday evening when I went to collect Claire, I had left a casserole in the oven. After we had eaten Claire wanted to wear her salmon-pink bridesmaid dress. I had to zip her up. Her description was right. The hooped petticoat was enormous and held the skirt out to a diameter of over two and a half metres (about eight feet). It was an eight-hooped petticoat and the skirt started out horizontally from her waist, almost like a shelf.

Claire asked me to kneel down before she threw the skirt and petticoat over my head. The spread of the petticoat meant I had fee access to her sex and could use my tongue. As she got excited, Claire tried to hold my head but the stiffness of the petticoat meant she only pressed down on the top of my head. She uncovered me.

"The hoops are in the way, David. I'm going to shed the petticoat."

She hauled up her skirt, unfastened the petticoat's waistband and let it fall. It did -- over me. She pushed me so I was lying down. I was covered completely from beyond my head to beyond my feet. Claire lifted her skirt before sitting on the petticoat. I had been seeing white, now salmon pink, before Claire moved to put her legs on either side of my head and push her sex down across my face. I was feeling frustrated. Although I was inside Claire's petticoat and dress with her sex squashing across my mouth, there were two layers of material between us.

"It isn't doing anything for either of us," she said.

She lifted herself off me, then shed the petticoat. She got me to kneel and threw her skirt over my head. I had known the dress was heavy from carrying it to and from my car. Without the hooped petticoat it was too long for Claire. The lower frill splayed across the floor and covered me completely. The weight of the skirt meant it clung around me as I tried to lick Claire's sex.

But the satin skirt was lined with pink silk. As we got warm, the silk wrapped around Claire's legs like cling film. Soon it had bagged my head and I was struggling to breathe. I flapped my arms to get some air under the skirt, but I had to stop after only ten minutes. Claire had to peel the skirt off my body and unwrap my head so I could breathe.