Marlene had been on her feet most of the day, filing papers and attending meetings, all the while answering the phone and taking messages for her boss. As the executive assistant for Donald Levinson of the Park/Levinson Law Firm, she was used to the daily hustle and bustle. But, today was Friday and that always seemed to lend itself to an extra measure of last-minute rushing around to end the workweek.
She flopped herself down into her desk chair with a heavy sigh, gratefully taking the load off of her aching feet, and paying absolutely no attention to how her skirt had risen high enough on her thighs to expose the dark, opaque bands of her stockings. At that moment, she could not have cared less. And besides, she reasoned, she was seated in rather modesty behind her desk where no one in the office in front of her might perceive her skirtly indiscretion.
After taking a few moments to relax, reflect, and catch her breath, she glanced up at the clock on the wall. She smiled to see that the clock had finally moved closer to closing time. Some days, and this was certainly one of them, it seemed time would just crawl by. Earlier that very afternoon, she had looked up at the wall clock and noted the time was 2:15 pm. In what seemed like it had to have been at least an hour later, she had again glanced up at the clock to see that it was now 2:25 pm. Thankfully, the time was now 4:45 pm, and her workday, and workweek, were both finally coming to a close.
With nothing more to do in the final fifteen minutes, she leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs. In doing so, she once again felt a very familiar sensual presence between her legs. A sensation that had been with her for most of the day, every time she moved, crossed, or uncrossed her legs, and even as she walked from office to office. A subtle sensation of sensuality that announced its presence with even the slightest nuance of movement. A pleasant tease, a breath of sensuality that had kept her in a mild state of arousal for most of the day. She understood the teasing sensation very well, it was her body’s subtle, yet insistent, manner of making her aware of the fact that she had gone much too long without having any kind of sexual contact.
And THAT, she thought with a frown, pressing her lips together firmly with a shake of her head, was entirely the fault of her soon-to-be ex-husband. The vision of Gary fucking his office assistant once again flashed into her conscious thoughts. Even though the incident had happened well over a month ago and had lasted no more than a few seconds, every explicit detail was indelibly burned into her memory and vividly recalled.
The girl, his twenty-something office assistant, that cute little blonde thing. What the hell was her name? Christie? Chrissie? Whatever, she shrugged with a dismissive shake of her head, it mattered not. What MATTERED was how the young woman had been sprawled face down over Gary’s desk, her curly blonde hair splayed out over the top of the desk. She was bent over from the waist with her legs spread ever so accommodatingly, her short pleated skirt pulled up and bunched around her waist and her pantyhose pulled down just enough to bare her Lilly-white buttocks. Gary, with his slacks and boxers puddled unceremoniously about his feet, was thrusting into her lustfully, the girl squealing and gasping with each forceful thrust of his hips as their bodies came together with resounding slaps that seemed to echo loudly in the small confines of his office.
She had just stood there frozen in place, gaping in stunned silence for several seconds before quickly coming to her senses and retracing her steps, backing silently from the room, and closing the door quietly behind her. The couple had been so engrossed in their ever so pleasurable activity, neither had noticed her entrance or exit at all.
She barely remembered the drive home, her eyes blurred by her tears. Once she arrived home, however, she had calmly and methodically packed two suitcases with most of the clothing she needed for work and other everyday essentials and, having nowhere else to go, had arrived in tears on Louise’s doorstep. God bless her best friend Louise and her husband Ross, who had taken her in without question and afforded her the use of their spare bedroom for as long as she needed.
The very next day, Ross had even put her in touch with a good lawyer and she promptly filed for divorce on the grounds of infidelity. To her complete and utter astonishment, Gary had not only contested the divorce, but he also countersued, claiming extreme mental anguish and abject mortification because of his wife’s “lewd and lascivious” behavior in public in front of other men.
He was, of course, referring to the many occasions when she and Gary had attended parties at Louise’s house, and the many occasions Ross had coaxed and cajoled her into dancing to “The Stripper”.
It had all begun a little over a year ago and had all been in innocent fun. During one of Louise’s parties, with at least a dozen other couples present, she had been standing alone looking out the front window of their house momentarily lost in her thoughts with a glass of wine in her hand. And, knowing herself, it was likely her third, or fourth… or tenth glass of wine. She hadn’t been drunk, per se, but she had been definitely feeling no pain that evening.
Ross was always in charge of the music, and he took great pride in his music collection and keeping those parties lively with good classic rock music on his sound system. Never too loud, but loud enough to keep everyone’s feet tapping or to dance if anyone felt like it, and they often did.
On that particular night, Ross inexplicably put on a recording of “The Stripper” by David Rose and his Orchestra. He was probably trying to be funny, an inside joke to someone at the party, and many people DID laugh. But, when that particular piece of music began to play, she had, without conscious thought, begun to move her body as she had remembered seeing those classic strippers do on television and in the movies, all the while staring absently out the window and sipping her wine. She had unconsciously parted her legs to the extent her tight skirt would allow and moved her hips suggestively, punctuating the musical crescendos with forceful pelvic thrusts, just as she had seen the exotic dancers do.
When the music ended, she turned her attention back toward the party and, to her complete surprise, saw Ross staring at her from across the room with a curious smile on his face. Realizing she had been dancing rather suggestively and that he had been watching her, she felt the hot flush of embarrassment rise to her cheeks and she averted her eyes and turned away from him.
Moments later, he startled her as he suddenly appeared behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Marlene?” he said with a broad smile. “My dear, I think you may have missed your calling. With moves like that, you could have been a world-class exotic dancer.”
“Stop it,” she had said, fanning her already burning cheeks with her fingers. “It’s embarrassing enough to know you saw me doing it without you teasing me about it too. Believe me, I would have never done anything like that if I’d even THOUGHT anyone might be watching me.”
Ross laughed softly and shook his head. “Don’t be so modest,” he said. “You danced wonderfully, and also, I thought, very authentically to that music. I doubt any other woman in the room tonight could have done it anywhere near as well as you. I’m thinking you must have been an exotic dancer in a previous life.”
She had been relieved when he was called away moments later and she quickly moved to the sofa to take up her seat beside her husband Gary. She thought about Ross watching her dance so suggestively and, despite her initial embarrassment, had also felt a certain lascivious thrill to have been watched, and even admired. Could this be how real exotic dancers felt? Were they ever thrilled and aroused by all those men leering at them as they danced? Or was it just a job like any other?
She had, for a great many years, often fantasized about what it might be like to actually expose herself provocatively in front of an audience. Not just suggestive gyrations as she had just done, but also teasingly removing her clothing as she moved her body sensually to music and even touching herself to heighten her arousal. Her long-held fantasy of dancing and having an orgasm while people watched was so intense within her, the mere thought would often have her trembling with suppressed excitement.
On the night of Louise’s party, she had innocently and unintentionally responded to her age-old fantasy without premeditation or conscious thought, and most certainly without the knowledge that anyone might be watching. Unfortunately, Ross HAD been watching and had another nefarious party scheme in mind.
Almost an hour later, when everyone had quieted down and was seated about the room, in various party discussion groups, Ross got up to change the music. To her complete surprise, he excitedly motioned for her to join him at his sound system. As she joined him in the center of the room, he surprised her by suddenly turning to the guests and making a little announcement. “Hey, everybody…Listen up. You all know Marlene here, but what you may not know about her is that she has a very secret, hidden talent.”
With that, the stripper music suddenly filled the room once again. Ross backed away, leaving her standing alone in the middle of the room. He smiled encouragingly, nodding his head, and began clapping his hands rhythmically to the music. She had stood there, transfixed like the proverbial deer in the headlights, completely astonished and mortified as everyone’s eyes were suddenly on her.
Her face flushed hotly, and she shook my head at Ross as he continued to clap and then even began to chant her name. She had tried to turn away to resume her seat on the sofa beside Gary, but Ross grasped her arm with a broad smile and shook his head, chanting “Mar-lene…Mar-lene”. Moments later the entire room took up a chant.
Mar-LENE, Mar-LENE!” She had laughed self-consciously, and despite her embarrassment, resigned herself to her fate. Fortified by her wine consumption, she had momentarily tossed her inhibitions aside and began to move to the music just as Ross had seen her do.
Peripherally, she had been aware of the entire room silently watching her and had kept her eyes closed or averted. She had intended on appeasing Ross by dancing only a few moments, just to get it over with. But, much to her complete astonishment, she heard the music beginning to fade and realized she had danced the entire length of the piece. Everyone erupted in applause. With her face burning in embarrassment, she covered her face in her hands and hurried back to the sofa, curling next to Gary and burying her face against his chest.
Several minutes later, when the party had once again returned to a semblance of calm normality, she had taken a moment to reflect upon that rather intimate dance that Ross had cajoled her into performing in front of everyone. Once the embarrassment had begun to fade, she discovered, much to her astonishment, how very arousing the experience had been for her to physically realize even a small measure of her deeply rooted and enduring fantasy.
That depth of arousal was startlingly revealed several minutes later when she made a trip to the bathroom to relieve herself and had discovered how her arousal had completely soaked through the crotch of her panties.
Gary had, of course, been the one to reap the sexual benefits of her acute arousal, she had practically raped him as soon as they arrived home that night after the party.
For his part, Ross made sure that her little stripper dance was a permanently recurring feature at their parties. While she still protested vehemently every single time and only grudgingly capitulated when everyone began to clap and chant her name, she had always secretly looked forward to repeating the experience.
She even went so far as to dress for the parties with her dance in mind, making sure to wear tight skirts or dresses that would best show off her figure and her legs, and bras with sheer nylon cups that allowed her breasts to move and sway more naturally beneath her blouses or pullover sweaters.
The male party attendees had always been especially attentive, and it thrilled her beyond measure to be the focus of so much prurient interest and attention. She could almost feel their eyes, like a physical presence, moving over her body as she tilted her pelvis suggestively, or moved her shoulders in such a way so as to cause her breasts to shift provocatively beneath her blouse. She quite shamelessly allowed herself to become extremely aroused right in front of them all, secure and confident in the knowledge that everyone would just naturally assume her highly flushed cheeks and heavy breathing were purely the results of her embarrassment at having to perform.
Her excitement level seems to grow each time she performed at one of Louise’s parties. She soon discovered she had to temper the rising need she was feeling, occasionally stopping her dance at the veritable brink of an orgasm and quickly sitting down before such an orgasmic event could suddenly overwhelm her while everyone watched. She would rush to the sofa, to her place beside Gary, while everyone applauded her performance. Occasionally, she would then cross her legs to initiate her orgasm right there on the sofa, all the while sipping her drink and giving no outward appearance that anything so momentous was occurring within her. Not even Gary had ever realized, and she had never ever spoken to him about her fantasy or how much it aroused her to dance at those parties.
To have actually allowed herself to experience an orgasm in public had also opened an entirely new dimension in sensuality for her. After exciting herself to the brink during her dances, she discovered she could very easily bring herself to orgasm afterward just by crossing her legs and squeezing her thighs together. Maintaining a calm outward appearance and disposition even seemed to enhance the excitement and pleasure for her. She found it especially erotic to bring herself to orgasm even while engaged in a conversation with someone who was completely oblivious to what she was doing. It was especially accommodating when a good rock song on the stereo allowed her to move her hips to the beat of the song, to mask the fact that she was, in reality, moving her hips to the rhythmic pulsations of her orgasm.
Afterward, whenever she had occasion to think about how much it thrilled her to have that life-long fantasy physically realized, she often felt she probably owed Ross a rather strong debt of gratitude for providing her with such perfect opportunities to indulge herself in those fantasies under the cloak of an embarrassing party favor for him.
And, as for Gary, he had most certainly gone along with Ross’s little party favor and had never once expressed to her any personal embarrassment or showed signs of any mental anguish as his counter lawsuit alleged. Ross and Louise both offered affidavits to the fact that she had done nothing of the kind. But that didn’t stop Gary from hiring a private detective to follow her every day in order to find evidence to add to his claims. Once her lawyer understood the facts of the matter, he summarily dismissed Gary’s countersuit out of hand, telling her she had nothing to worry about, but also advising her to be on her best behavior because of the private detective.
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“Marlene,” said a voice from behind her, startling her from her daydream of her deep-seated fantasies and stripper dancing. She turned in her chair to see Mr. Levinson had approached unnoticed from his office behind her desk and stood relatively near. Seeing how he had startled her, he smiled and apologized.
“I was just wondering if you have completed the corporation agreements for the Andersons?” He smiled.
Marlene nodded, turning to take the file from her outbox and handing it to him. She couldn’t help but notice peripherally how his eyes lowered to her legs as she turned her head, something Mr. Levinson often did on a great many occasions, and something that she had always found to be rather endearing. Mr. Levinson was eighty-eight years old, bless his heart. He had a wife of sixty years and four adult children, with at least a dozen grandchildren. So, if it pleased him to look and admire her legs, who was she to deny him or say otherwise? More power to him.
At closing time, she hurried home, thinking that a little dinner and maybe a nice hot soak in the bathtub would be a wonderful prelude to surrendering herself to that physical need that had been growing within her all day and allowing herself a much-needed orgasm.
But her best-laid plans were for naught. She arrived home to find Ross and Louise buoyantly excited about going out to a local lounge to watch their favorite rock band perform. And, much to her dismay, they both insisted she accompany them. She did her best to beg off with all of her usual excuses: long day at work, tired, and not feeling all that well. But still, they persisted, having become all too wise to her litany of lame excuses for staying home, and so she had finally resigned herself to an evening out.
After a quick dinner, they were in such a hurry to get out the door, she wasn’t even afforded an opportunity to shower or change clothes. It was well that her work skirt and blouse were sufficiently dressy for any lounge or bar. Once they had arrived and found a suitable table near the band, and after a drink or two, she had even begun to relax and enjoy herself despite her earlier reluctance. The band was exceptionally good, and she could readily see why Ross and Louise had become so enamored with their music. She even allowed Ross to pull her out of her chair and onto the dancefloor on several occasions.
Moving her hips to the music while on the dancefloor even managed to keep her earlier arousal simmering. The sensual pull of her garters on the tops of her stockings as well as the little shifting movements of her panties against her labia seemed to blend together to create a large erogenous zone from her knees to the top of her hips. And, as it often happened whenever she was doing her little stripper dance at the parties, she felt as though she could almost have an orgasm right out on the dancefloor simply by moving her hips to the music.
By the time they left the lounge to go home, she was almost frantic in her need for release. Walking to Ross’s car in the parking lot, she had that very familiar sense that she had completely soaked through the crotch of her panties once again.
Hoping she might possibly sneak a quick orgasm on the way home, she sat in the back directly behind Ross, who was the designated driver. Too late she realized there wasn’t enough room behind the driver’s seat for her to comfortably cross her legs. If she could only slip her hand beneath her skirt for just a few short moments…Louise, however, kept up a lively banter, constantly turning toward her to include her in the conversation. With a sigh of resignation, Marlene realized she would have to keep her hands to herself and wait a little longer.
Several minutes later they turned onto their street and were almost home. “Don’t look now,” said Ross as he looked up into the rearview mirror. “But I think your private detective has been following us home from the lounge.”
As Ross pulled into the driveway, she looked out the window to see the familiar Ford Mustang convertible owned by the man Gary had hired to surveil her every movement, pulling to the curb beside their house.
Thoughts of Gary, his fucking blonde co-worker, the impending divorce, and the private detective flooded her conscious thoughts and rudely shoved aside her arousal.
As she exited the vehicle, she very purposefully slid from the back seat in such a way so as to allow her skirt to slide up well beyond the tops of her stockings. With her legs almost completely exposed to her crotch, she paused, glancing up to see the private detective holding up a camera with what appeared to be a telephoto lens. She smiled and raised her middle finger, let him bring that photo into court she thought.
Her arousal reasonably abated by Gary and his idiotic countersuit and surveillance, she sat with Louise at the kitchen table, keeping her company while Ross paid their babysitter and drove her home. Buoyant from the lively energy of the lounge and the music, Louise gushed almost non-stop about the band. And she readily agreed.
As the band members were perennial party favorites whenever Louise threw a house party, much the same as she and Gary, she had, by pure virtue of attrition, become reasonably familiar with most of the members of the band. She knew the guitar player, Jimmy, a little better than any of the others simply because he too lived at Louise’s house. Even before she had taken up residence there, Jimmy had already been renting a room in their basement for many months, and their paths crossed fairly often when either one of them was coming or going.
Jimmy was also Louise’s favorite in the band. “God, Marlene,” she said with a shake of her head. “If I was unmarried and twenty years younger, I’d have him in my bed so goddamn fast he wouldn’t know what hit him.”
Marlene laughed politely and nodded, having had very similar thoughts about Jimmy herself that very evening while watching him perform. He had a very sensual way of moving his hips while playing guitar that she found very appealing. She laughed to herself and shook her head at the ridiculous thought of ever trying to seduce anyone like him, reasoning pragmatically that neither she nor Louise would ever stand even a ghost of a chance with someone like Jimmy, who was seemingly almost never without some gorgeous young thing hanging on his arm.
Ross arrived home in a rather playfully frisky mood. He stood behind Louise’s chair, bending over to nuzzle her neck and cup her big breasts in his hands. Louise’s face flushed and she giggled almost girlishly at his attentions.
Marlene rolled her eyes and looked away. Shit, at least one of us was going to get laid tonight, she thought.
Moments later, Louise stood and they both bade her good night. They walked through the kitchen toward their bedroom with Ross’s hand all over Louise’s derriere as she giggled delightedly.
Alone in the kitchen, Marlene sighed. Her earlier arousal was now barely a fleetingly happy memory. She stood, making her way to the bathroom. Sitting on the toilet, her skirt pulled up and panties to her knees as she relieved herself, she took a moment to examine her panties. She smiled as her fingers discovered how her earlier arousal had made the soft nylon stiff from her dried vaginal fluids.
This particular pair of thong-style panties happened to be one of her favorites, and part of a matching black nylon lingerie ensemble that included her bra and garter belt. One of the many such ensembles that Gary had purchased for her over the years from the likes of Frederick’s of Hollywood or Victoria’s Secret.
She recalled how before she had met Gary, she had never really given much thought to, or even really been all that excited about, lingerie in other than just a general sense. Her undergarments had always been just that, pretty but pedestrian, merely something to be comfortably worn under clothing and not as some kind of sexy fashion statement; something to be worn and not seen.
She came to learn, early on in their relationship, that Gary had a real predilection for lingerie and particularly loved seeing her so scantily dressed. In that regard, he was forever presenting her with gifts of lingerie he felt were especially appealing. Beautiful and very sensual items such as revealing little babydoll nighties, negligees, and sexy thong teddies, along with a variety of bra, panty, and garter belt ensembles in a variety of styles and colors, and a wide assortment of nylon stockings. He asked her if she wouldn’t mind wearing her slinky lingerie items around the house whenever they were alone and, as it would very often lead to lovemaking, she readily agreed.
Most surprising of all to her was the passion she discovered within herself for wearing the slinky lingerie Gary had bought her. From the first moment she slipped on a pair of silk and nylon stockings and attached them to the elastic garters of her new garter belt, she felt almost instantly aroused by the inherent sensuality. The way the silky material moved against her legs and the ever-present sensuality of the pull of the elastic garters always gave her a shiver of pleasure. From that moment, she had never worn pantyhose again and had even begun wearing her sexy garter belt and stockings to work every day instead.
As she washed her face and hands and brushed her teeth, she thought more about Gary. Because, when it came to opening herself up and expressing her sexuality, Gary had given her a great deal more than gifts of lingerie. He had opened her eyes to an entire world of sensuality that she had never experienced before or even knew existed. The first time he made love to her with his mouth, his tongue probing her anus and then flicking rapidly against her clitoris, it had given her one of the most intense orgasms she had ever experienced, and something she very much wanted to experience again and again.
That first oral experience had opened her up to feeling a strong desire within her to respond to Gary in the same manner. She had never in her life made love to a man with her mouth before. She had, of course, seen it happen in a few porn videos and knew the physical mechanics of a blow job, but had never had an opportunity, let alone a desire to do it to someone. But, with Gary’s gentle encouragements and instructions, she not only became very adept and accomplished at using her lips and tongue to bring Gary to a shuddering orgasm, she also learned to thoroughly enjoy the experience. To her complete astonishment, she loved the sensation of him ejaculating into her mouth, as well as the taste of his semen, and blissfully swallowed everything he would give her. Occasionally, Gary would pull away to ejaculate over her face or her breasts. Shocked at first, she soon learned to love watching him ejaculate and the sensation of his warm semen on her skin.
Sometimes, while making love, he would pull out of her vagina and rise up onto his knees at the last second to ejaculate over her entire body while she writhed beneath him, shivering with pleasure as his long streams of milky semen erupted over her body while her hands smeared it over her skin like lotion.
Gary, she came to discover, had an even kinkier side to him as well. He enjoyed playing the submissive role of a recalcitrant young man being punished by a domineering mature woman and very much needed to be spanked for his indiscretions. He would have her pull down his pants to bare his buttocks, and then force him to lie across her lap, her legs either bare or in stockings and, as she smacked his buttocks, turning them pink, she would feel him growing hard, his erection extending down between her thighs, and he would flinch and cry out softly with each stinging slap. The first time she felt him ejaculating between her thighs, her entire body flushed with arousal and excitement as the warmth of his semen flowed between her legs. She was even able to enthusiastically throw herself into the role of an irate domineering woman, angrily castigating him forcefully and calling him names as she smacked his buttocks quite forcefully.
She smiled at those recollections, sighing heavily in resignation to the fact that that part of her sex life with Gary was completely over. After brushing her teeth, she rinsed her panties under warm water and blotted them semi-dry between the folds of a towel. She would hang them out up in her bedroom to dry them completely overnight.
She made her way through the house, turning out lights as she went, shaking her head to think Ross and Louise had been so wrapped up in themselves that they had left that final little chore up to her. As she turned off the lamp nearest to their bedroom she paused, tilting her head and listening to the unmistakable sounds of sex emanating from beyond the bedroom wall. And, not just sex, she realized with a smile, but enthusiastic, energetic sex.
Shamelessly she bent her head to bring her ear to the wall. Instantly the sounds of intimacy were dramatically amplified, and she was suddenly able to hear their heavy breathing, Louise’s whispered endearments, and their bodies slapping together, along with the soft squeak of their innerspring mattress.
Her long-forgotten arousal came flooding back to her in a rush of heat between her legs. With her ear pressed tightly against the wall, she slid her hand down over the front of her skirt to press her fingertips against her pubic mound.
“Oh, God, yes,” she sighed, her voice little more than even a hint of a whisper as her probing fingertips began to evoke increasingly intense waves of pleasure within her. She was about to lift her skirt and bring herself to orgasm while listening to the passionate sounds on the other side of the wall, when suddenly all was silent. They had finished.
“Shit,” she murmured as she turned away, thinking it would have been a very pleasant way for her to cum. “Story of my life,” she murmured to herself. “Always a day late and a dollar short.” She finished turning out the lights, leaving only the low-wattage bulb above the stove as a little nightlight for Jimmy when he got home later.
She made her way to her bedroom and placed her damp panties over the back of a chair to dry overnight. She opened her closet door and began to unbutton her blouse while she looked at her reflection in the full-length mirror hanging on the back of the closet door. She smiled and struck several poses in the mirror, very much liking the look of her new, slightly shorter hairstyle.
While posing and taking in her reflection, she suddenly became aware of the fact that she could also see a reverse reflection of herself at the same time from across the room in the large mirror on the back of the dresser. She smiled and began to move her hips suggestively, watching her reverse image almost as an out-of-body experience. She smiled broadly and began to dance and move her body provocatively, much the same as she had danced at Louise’s parties. Watching herself move in the mirrored reflections, she couldn’t help but smile as it allowed her to visualize how she must have appeared to everyone on those occasions.
Impulsively she began to tease with her skirt, raising it as she tilted her pelvis suggestively; something she had often fantasized about doing on those evenings. With a sharp intake of breath, she stopped moving and just stared at her reverse reflection. The sudden realization of what she was seeing hit her like a jolt of electricity. The idea that she would be able to watch herself dance as others had seen her was so overwhelmingly sensual it took her breath away. She would be able to dance as she had always wished she could dance, lewdly and lasciviously, without any self-conscious embarrassment, and the thought suffused her body with a heat of arousal so acute she literally trembled with suppressed desire. She turned away from the mirror and moved about the room, adjusting the angles of both mirrors in order to allow for maximum exposure.
She stood thoughtfully for a moment in the middle of the room, pleased by how her reflection looked in each mirror. She glanced at her panties drying on the chair and smiled. While she had on several occasions been tempted to dance in front of the party guests without wearing any panties, she had never found the internal strength or the unmitigated audacity to be so brazenly lascivious in front of all those people. Not that she would have ever knowingly allowed anyone at the party to see her so intimately beneath her skirt, but merely allowing for even the remotest possibility of such a thing, literally made her fingers tremble with excitement.
She examined her reflection one last time, smoothing her skirt over her hips, and smiled. She could readily see the warm flush on her cheeks in the mirror. Satisfied with her look and filled with anticipation for watching herself dance, she took up her cell phone and found a YouTube audio version of the David Rose Orchestra’s “The Stripper”.
She placed the phone on her bed and, as the music began to play softly, she began to move. She danced as she had always wished she could, lifting her skirt to better part her thighs and thrusting her hips in an unmistakable parody of sexual intercourse.
As she moved about the room, turning so as to see herself from every angle, she unbuttoned her blouse slowly, pulling it open to teasingly reveal more and more of her pretty black nylon and lace bra. Then, with a dramatic flair, she shrugged the blouse from her shoulders and laid it over the chair with her panties.
Moving sensually to the music, she unhooked her bra, lowering each of the straps teasingly as she held it in place over her breasts with her arm, slowly lowering one cup at a time, revealing each breast slowly and teasingly until finally tossing aside her bra onto the floor.
She cupped her breasts, kneading her flesh, pressing her breasts together, and sighing pleasurably as she pulled on each of her nipples until they were almost painfully erect.
She moved to her bed and specifically the footboard with its two four-foot high bedposts. She watched her reflection as she pressed her body against the bedpost, wrapping her arms around the post and holding it between her breasts as she moved her hips suggestively from side to side. As her pubic mound brushed back and forth against the bedpost she shivered, sensing her rising orgasm could not be put off much longer.
She reached down and grasped her skirt, pulling it up slowly to reveal the tops of her stockings as she continued to press her hips rhythmically against the bedpost. With one final pull, she brought the hem of her skirt up, over her hips, exposing her plush, round buttocks cheeks.
She moaned softly as she parted her thighs and pressed her vulva directly against the smooth burled wood, feeling the wood become slick and wet from her slickly lubricated lips.
She pulled away with a gasp, suppressing the almost agonizing need to release herself in orgasm, wanting to extend the moment to the last possible second. She moved to the dresser, lowering herself onto the smoothly rounded corner. She thrust her hips into the dresser, her labial lips making slick wet sounds against the smooth wood.
As the last few strains of the song began to fade, she leaned forward over the dresser, supporting herself with her hands on each side of the dresser, and lifted her feet from the floor. With only her hands and her labia touching the dresser, she began to thrust her hips rapidly, looking into the mirror to see her buttocks flexing in the reflection behind her. She lay her cheek against the mirror on the back of the dresser, her heavy breathing fogging the mirror, and surrendered to the orgasm that began to overwhelm her.
With the music stopped, the only sounds in the room came from her, her soft gasping breaths and the soft thump, thump, thump of her hips against the rounded corner of the dresser.
As her orgasm began to fade, she smiled into the mirror at the relief of her pent-up release. But, as she began to lower her feet back onto the floor, a second orgasm suddenly flooded her senses. She gasped aloud as it took her away, her thighs trembling uncontrollably as she let go, her orgasm so intense she could hardly breathe.
With a gasp, she pushed herself away from the dresser and lowered her feet to the floor. Her legs wobbled and, unable to support her weight, she slid to the floor, landing hard on her hip with a groan. She lay reclined for several moments catching her breath; looking up at the corner of the dresser to see where long streams of her creamy vaginal discharge, dripped from the edge and rand down the side of the dresser.
“Holy fuck!” she breathed, astonished by her two orgasms happening one right after the other, as well as the overwhelming intensity of her second orgasm. She had often had a small amount of vaginal discharge during an orgasm, but nothing like what she was seeing run down the edge of the dresser.
She lay back onto the carpet for a few moments, looking up at the ceiling as she got herself together. Finally, she rolled onto her stomach and rose up onto her hands and knees before standing tentatively. She took a few unsteady steps before she felt sure enough to be able to walk normally.
She took a large handful of Kleenex tissues from the top of the dresser and wiped between her legs and the insides of her thighs, then carefully wiped everything from the dresser as well.
She had planned to masturbate that evening as a prelude to a restful repose in bed for the night, but after her surprising orgasmic event and living the fantasy of a very real stripper dance, she knew sleep would not happen for quite some time.
“What I need is a good stiff drink,” she murmured softly as she lowered her skirt. “Among other stiff things,” she added with a little laugh. She placed her bra on the back of the chair with her panties and carefully hung her blouse in the closet. She took a thin sleeveless pullover sweater from her drawer and slipped it over her head, then made her way out of the room and down the stairs to raid Ross’s liquor cabinet for a much-needed drink.
(The story continues in Marlene’s Mature Fantasies, Pt. 02)