Old Friends

Jim rang Claire's doorbell a half hour later eager to see her, but nervous about entering a world he'd been told to avoid all of his life.

Claire opened the door smiling, she knew the art show would be a shock for Jim, but she had hoped he'd recover and ask for more. Now here he was.

Jim eyed her up and down. He'd seen her in this night shirt before, but this time the two top buttons were open displaying a wide expanse of cleavage. The shirt in question looked like a men's dress shirt, but was only slightly oversized and cut to match the curves of a woman with a narrow waist and wider hips. The slits up the sides of her thighs distracted him in much the same way they had the last time he noticed them. Again, they gave the hint that she wore nothing underneath this shirt.

Claire gave Jim time to check her out before inviting him into her house. She directed him to a seat and went to get them both a glass of wine. She walked away slowly, adding just a hint of sway to her stroll. She felt his eyes follow her.

She return and handed Jim his wine making sure to lean forward more than was necessary. His eyes did not focus on the glass of wine and he almost dropped it.

She took a seat beside him and asked what he liked about the show. He told her about his mental conflict about the show and his erotic dreams about the exhibits.

Once he had finished describing all he'd gone though, she again asked what he liked.

"No one ever asked me that before, it's as if what I wanted never mattered, so I really don't know," he shared.

"Well, it matters now. You like looking at my butt don't you and you did seem excited when you told me about your dream that you were the guy behind the girl telling us all about the show," Claire commented, making note of the bulge forming between his legs.

"I do like looking at your ass and I love that shirt you are wearing," he commented.

"Thank you. I like that you stare at my ass too. About your dream, did you want to be in that guy's place?" she asked.

Jim's pants suddenly felt very tight as he answered, "Yes."

Claire got up, walked over to her kitchen table, placed her hand on the table and bent over spreading her legs. She lifted the back of her nightshirt and didn't say a word. She thought the invitation was clear.

Jim froze in place, as he watched her get into position. She had not directed him, but before she had insisted he voice his desires. He tentatively approached her and dropped to his knees behind her. He waited for her to give him direction for several seconds before taking the initiative and placing his face between her thighs.

Several minutes later Claire could not stay still as one orgasm after another overtook her. She was finally able to push Jim away. She turned and removed her night shirt.

"Strip," she told Jim. She led him into her bedroom. "We're now going to act out every one of those dreams you had last night."

Jim's mind raced to recall everything he saw at the erotic art exhibit, most he'd never tried before, but were fantasies he'd only dreamed about, as he followed Claire into her bedroom.

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