The Power of Clothing Pt. 02

Chapter 5.

"Wow, you look great."

"Been dieting, have you?"

"You have a stunning figure."

"Where have those curves come from?"

These were the sort of remarks that Jo was getting from girl friends, work colleagues, men and potential lovers. Obviously, they made her feel good, naturally they made her feel very feminine and for sure they excited her. Little did the people who made the comments know that she was wearing a basque.

Jo tried a variety of garments. Basques, with and without suspenders, bustiers and waspies. All gave her some lovely sensations and some wonderful moments. Even shopping for them, when she had time, was something of a turn on. She had never really been that interested in sexy underwear, preferring instead the more practical, larger panties and full, comfortable bras.

PT, as she now termed the period of her life, 'post Tom', things changed and that was not just with her hunt to find the sensation she had so enjoyed by being restricted in that basque. The change was more than just that.

It started one evening a month or so after she ended her affair with him. She was in, yet another hotel room, this time in Edinburgh when she was attending a senior management-training course. She was looking for basques and bustiers to add to the two she had originally purchased. She was looking at 'ladies underwear' sites and came across such sites as Lejaby, Agent Provocateur and Janet Regar. At first, she looked on with amazement at the ridiculously flimsy and equally ridiculously expensive panties and bras. That soon changed to interest, intrigue and excitement. When she imagined her pussy in the tiny g strings or thongs, or thought of the lustrous feel of the silk of French knickers on her tummy, bum and pubic areas, she found herself becoming aroused. Visualising her small breasts in the diaphanous bras, her sturdy nipples on show, making such evident mounds in the thin lace, turned her on a lot. The inevitable and, what was becoming, her typical end to a day in a hotel happened, she masturbated.

She ordered a ton of stuff and her lingerie drawers were never the same again.

Her sex life had been depressingly barren, although to some extend that was intentional, due to the new job. Then she accepted a date with Barry, a man she had met at a corporate golf day, making him more of a conventional date than her 'hotel pick ups.' Also, he was a widow and not single.

They had dinner a couple of times, ending both evenings with 'pecks on the cheek.' The third 'date' was playing golf and afterwards he drove her home in his big Mercedes.

"I have a really early start tomorrow, Barry, otherwise I would ask you in," Jo said as they pulled up near to her Docklands flat.

"No problem, so have I actually," he replied, turning to look at her and putting his hand out towards her. Jo turned at the same time and his hand met her boob.

"Woops, sorry."

Smiling, she said. "That's ok."

"Is it really?" Barry replied, not moving it.

They kissed and he caressed her breasts. That seemed to create an unsaid, implicit agreement between them to fuck soon.

And they did, the following Saturday evening, when he cooked dinner for Jo at his house in Petts Wood, just over the river Thames and down a bit from where Jo lived.

She wasn't travelling much at the time as she very involved with architects and builders on two new clubs and the major refurbishment of another, all in London. That mean that, unusually for her, she was able to have regular sex, and over the next two weeks they had it three more times.

"Take all your clothes off and wait right there," Jo said, the following Thursday evening.

He was sitting on the long, six-seater, black leather sofa in Jo's Docklands flat. She had been planning this since the first time she and Barry had shagged, just over three weeks ago.

"Oh my God, Jo," he said croakily when she opened the door of her bedroom and stood in the doorway looking at him.

Smiling, Jo said. "Come this way big boy," as she opened her bedroom door wide. He needed no second bidding. Standing up naked, as she had said, he walked across the lounge, his eyes not moving from her all the way. Jo's didn't move from him either. She felt a tremendous surge of sheer lust, but also a sort of power as she watched him become fully erect on the short walk.

It wasn't just that she had turned the lights off and lit numerous aromatic candles that had caused his exclamation. It was what she was wearing. A black basque, black suspenders and black stockings.

Turning her back on the advancing man, she was delighted to hear him moan as he looked at her rear.

"Jesus Jo, that is some sight, you have a great arse."

She particularly liked that for she knew full well that she didn't. It was too big and wide, but hearing a compliment about her bum made her feel great. It was of course the outfit that did it. The back of the basque, the susupenders and the tops of her stocking formed a black frame, emphasising the womanly roundness and paleness of the two orbs. That, and the way that the basque pinched in her waist, making her hips look voluptuous created the vision that was so playing to Barry's fantasy. He was a total 'tits and ass man.'

He came up behind her and stroked her bum. He put his arms round her and cupped her boobs as he pressed his erection against her cheeks. It felt good for both of them.

Barry edged Jo forward towards her bed. As he did that, he kept his erection pressed against her bum and his hands on her breasts, pinching, rubbing and squeezing. The mood and atmosphere for sex was building up nicely. They reached the bed; her shins were pressed against the fashionably low wooded frame. She went to turn round, but he stopped her, instead pushing her forward.

"Lay on the bed Jo, on your front," he whispered by way of explanation. That excited her.

She did. He lay beside her. He stroked her bum. Each cheek, the tops of her thighs the swell up from her waist and just inside the crease. He kissed and licked each cheek staring intensely at the twin globes of female flesh framed by the black silk, satin, elastic and nylon. His erection was throbbing, he couldn't remember being harder. Her hand found it.

"Mmmmm," he heard Jo whisper "That feels nice."

He gently pulled her cheeks apart. He ran his fingertips along it running them right across the puckered skin surrounding her 'forbidden' hole. The sensation was intense. Jo's body jerked and she let out a low moan. Barry slid his fingers between her legs and found her wetness. He rubbed her juices all over the skin outside her anus.

Barry was dominating her. That was unusual for Jo. Normally she was in control, but somehow this seemed right, she was enjoying him directing events, doing as he directed and being the submissive one. What was causing it, she wondered, suddenly realising that her outfit had something to do with it.

"Open your legs a little," he said, quite firmly. She did. He kissed each cheek then, holding them well apart, he got his mouth between them. He licked the sides of the crease; he licked the top of it up towards her waist and the lower end between that and her vagina. He licked her everywhere making her shudder and moan as the gorgeous sensations permeated her entire body. And then he got the tip of his tongue right on it.

"Oh yes," Jo groaned as he pressed.

His tongue slipped in, just a little way. Her body jerked and she moaned again. He took that as her agreement. He replaced his tongue with his finger whilst he reached up her body with his other arm to find her little tits.

Although she was not very experienced with anal sex, Jo had a very sensitive bum. Usually, though, she would stop a man now and would be cajoling him to attend to her even more sensitive place. Today though, due to the way things had developed it seemed appropriate for her to remain as she was and to let him continue; his earlier words "You have a great arse Jo" were ringing in her mind as she felt his finger opening her sphincter muscle.

"Oh my God," she groaned as he slid it up her. At the same time he was pumping his cock in the surrogate cunt provided by her hand and was squeezing and pinching her breasts. Jo was gaining sensations fro everywhere, or so it seemed.

He was now so aroused that he feared he would cum in her hand.

"You have to stop for a moment Jo, you'll make me cum," Barry explained moving his cock away from her hand.

He couldn't remember being quite as aroused as he was right now. Barry adored women's' arses, but found few women, not that he went with that many, who would let him indulge himself with that part of their body. Jo seemed to be the exception.

And she was, well today she was that is and again she wondered why?

He now had his finger past his first knuckle into Jo's arse. The pain as her sphincter expanded the wrong way had gone and given way to a dull ache and warm tingling sensation. She'd had a finger there before, but then she had been drunk, it was different, both emotionally and physically, being finger fucked up your arse when you was sober, she thought as Barry slid his finger further up her.

Her body, as if with a mind of its own, rose slightly from the bed, her legs opened a little more, she gripped the bed clothes, her eyes were tightly closed and her mouth was wide open as if she was fighting for air. It felt so different, so wild, dangerous and decadent; it went perfectly with the clothes she was wearing.

But then she felt empty. 'Fuck he's stopped,' she realised as his finger slid out giving her a sensation that she didn't wish to think about at a time such as this. Jo did, though, feel mildly disappointed. That however lasted for only a moment or two.

She felt him moving, he was kneeling between her legs, his hands were on the front of upper legs, they were pulling, trying to lift her up. She went with the movement imagining the view she was presenting to Barry. Spreaded legs, wide-open pussy lips, her anus, which was still wet from her own juices and tingling from his finger, the stockings, suspenders and her basque: it was sordid, rude and so wonderful.

"No," was her involuntary whisper as she felt the tip of his cock nuzzling against her anus.

"Do you want me to stop?" He asked, considerately, she thought.

"Yes, no, I don't know," Jo moaned.

He pressed a little.

"Yes, no?"

"In the drawer to the right," Jo groaned.

"What?"

"Baby oil, put some on."

Barry's heart leaped when he realised she was going to let him, that Jo was up for it, that she was going to let him fuck her arse.

Jo had only been anally fucked once before and that hadn't been wonderful, 'So why the hell am I letting him fuck me there now?' She was asking herself, as Barry so easily, it seemed, slid the bulbous head of his cock inside her, there was some pain, but in the main, it was fine.

"Fuck me Barry," she moaned as she felt him edging further and further inside her.

It was so marvellously tight, he loved it. Slowly, desperately taking care not to hurt her, Barry slid his cock deeply into Jo's open, raised arse. He was nearly all the way in. She was moaning and writhing. He stopped for a moment then heard those wonderful words.

"Where Jo?" He asked "Where do you want me to fuck you?"

"In my arse, fuck me up my arse."

His legs rubbing against the smoothness of her stockings, his hands squeezing her breasts and running over the satin of her basque and his fingers occasionally pinging the elastic of her suspenders, Barry did just that. As he slowly, but deeply fucked Jo in the arse, he gave his wordless thanks to the sexy garment she was wearing. He was sure that had something to do with the marvellous present he was receiving.