Luck And The Lady

by Gini Lane

 

It was early in the New Year, early in our relationship, I suppose, that Maureen announced I'd be meeting Carol. It seemed her old roommate would be coming to town on business. The three of us would to have dinner together.

I was so looking forward to the special evening and wanted to look my best. As the day of the dinner approached, I'd asked Maureen what I should wear. She drew her tongue slowly across her upper lip.

"Surprise me," she whispered.

I began preparing and pampering myself shortly after noon: a leisurely bubble bath, over an hour of blissful relaxation. I'd had me nails done the previous day, usually a time-consuming job, and so felt unhurried as I made-up my face. I was so pleased with the results that I celebrated with a glass of white wine before dressing. I smiled at the lipstick trace – Revlon's Certainly Red – left on the glass's rim.

"Surprise me," Maureen had said. She was a mischievous one – but I could be mischievous, too. I began with a long legged panty girdle. This would be a surprise. Maureen had never before seen me in a panty girdle, never mind a long legged one. Indeed, I'd only once before worn one – and that had been as a teenager. The one I'd worn then hadn't been nearly as attractive as this one. I became hard just thinking about it. "Exclusive Split Crotch for Convenient Opening", claimed the packaging. I remembered smiling at this when in Intimate Secrets the previous afternoon.

I was particularly pleased that the panty girdle's lilac colour was a near-perfect match for one of my very favourite skirts. A wool and elastan woven blend, it stretched ever so slightly, creating the most flattering of sights.

The front of the panty girdle was of a rigid lilac satin panel, the sides nylon. It forced my thighs together as I drew it up and I had to struggle a bit to get it past my hips. But the greater effort in reining in my excitement. My heart beat with such ferocity that and I felt I had to pause, remaining motionless for a few moments, lest I cum. Slowly, I felt it safe to continue. I was forced to hold my breath in order to pull up the side zipper, and negotiated the hook and eye. I dared not look at my reflection in the mirror, certain that the mere sight of the lilac panty girdle with its shiny satin panel be too much for me.

Again, when I felt able to continue, I selected a matching lilac satin bra. I'd chanced upon some ultra sheer black stockings with a lilac welt. They looked a dream. They were easily attached to the panty girdle's concealed garters. Over this I wore my white satin blouse and, of course, the lilac skirt. I made a point of standing before the mirror as I zipped up the back and secured the hook-and-eye closure.

I ran my finely manicured hands down my thighs, smoothing down my skirt and, truth be told, luxuriating in the feel of the long legged panty girdle beneath. It was delightfully confining, the nylon sides making the rigid satin panel so tight as to hide my erection.

This would be so wonderful. Here I was, wearing an outfit Maureen was familiar with – it was, after all, my favourite skirt – while hiding something so new, so unexpected, so exciting.

 

I took a cab to Maureen's house, as was my habit. And though I noticed the glances of the driver, attention I always appreciated, I was distracted by feelings of nervousness and, I will admit, a touch of jealousy. It wasn't that I believed Carol posed a threat to our relationship, nor did I see her as a rival – Maureen had assured me of this – merely the simple fact that Carol and Maureen had known one another since college. They had shared so many secrets, so many intimacies. As I walked up the short walk to Maureen's front door, I took several deep breaths, trying to allay my nerves.

Maureen must have been watching out, for the door opened just as I was about to press her bell. She smiled, her eyes immediately travelling over me. She was anxious, she told me later, to see what I had chosen to wear when meeting her special friend. It meant something to her that I'd chosen to wear my favourite skirt. I knew, even then, that she was pleased. She took my hand, pulled me inside and shut the door.

"Beautiful," she whispered, a hungry look upon her face. She pushed me against the door, kissing me forcefully, pressing against me. Then, just as quickly, she pulled away, giggling girlishly. She skipped over to the foyer mirror and checked her make-up and hair. Satisfied, she turned to me.

"Must be careful not to mess ourselves up. Our guest will be here any second. Come."

I followed her to the kitchen, drinking in the sight of her beautiful behind encased, as it was, in the tight skirt of her gold satin dress. A crisp white apron was tied around her waist, the bow tickling her ass as she walked.

I was given a matching apron, which Maureen tied tightly, so very tight, before giving me a slap on my own behind and telling me to set the table.

The doorbell rang as I was laying out the cutlery. I paused, standing, I suppose, like a deer in headlights, as Maureen brought Carol in to meet me.

I had little to be concerned about. We became fast friends – from the moment we first took each other's hand. The fact that her nail polish, as it turned out, was the same as mine – Autumn Glow by Lilly Marlene – was not only the source of much amusement, but in its own peculiar way, served to create something of a foundation to our relationship.

Carol was an attractive woman, with an off-beat sense of humour that kept us in stitches for much of the evening; though it wasn't her personality, but her looks which I first attracted me. Like Maureen, she was a fairly big boned girl – but only slightly so. She'd put on a bit of weight since her college days – the result of three children – but this, I could only assume, had done nothing to detract from her beauty.

She was extremely generous and complimentary. I had half a mind to give her my silver bracelet after she'd told me how much she liked it.

 

The dinner was as a dream…so much better than I could've even hoped. We decided to take a break before dessert, and were clearing the plates when Maureen realized that she was out of ice cream. What, after all, was apple pie without ice cream? Carol said that she'd step out to the corner shop, an offer that Maureen leapt at – a little enthusiastically, I thought. I stood in the kitchen, preparing the dessert plates, as they both went to the foyer. I could hear Maureen insist on giving her old friend some money, then sending her on her way.

I smiled. As much as I enjoyed Carol's company, I wanted to be alone with Maureen, if only for a few minutes. I turned to meet her as she entered the room.

"Your friend is very…" Maureen placed a finger on my lips.

"Shhh," she said gently, "we haven't much time.

With that she placed her right hand on the front of my skirt.

I moaned with pleasure. I'd been hard nearly all evening, patiently awaiting Maureen's caress.

"Oh, darling," I whispered.

Her lips found my neck.

"We haven't much time," she repeated, and began to suck.

Slowly, at first, she began to caress the front of the skirt. I alternated between groans and gasps. It was all I could do to remain standing.

Maureen had me step back until I was leaning against the counter.

"You really are beautiful," she said, "and so good to my friend."

I said nothing, just drinking in everything Maureen was doing.

"I'm going to reward you." She was rubbing much more quickly now. I knew I was staining my panty girdle.

"We've got to stop," I said.

"Oh, no. No, I don't want to."

"Maureen, please, yes. Stop. I'm going to cum."

"But I want you to. Cum, Rina. I want you to cum." She continued, ignoring my pleas.

"Please, Maureen. I'll stain my skirt."

"I don't care, my love. Just cum for me, you beautiful woman. I want you to."

With that I did just as she'd commanded. I came all over the inside of my panty girdle. A delicious warmth spread over me. Maureen held me tightly. I imagined the girdle's semen stained satin panel and came all the more.

"Oh, darling. I love you so much," she said.

I clung to her, running my fingers through her blonde hair.

"And look," she said pointing to the front of my skirt, "no stain."

I was still aglow. Maureen took my hand and walked me to the living room. I felt so weak, so spent. She sat me down and handed me yet another glass of wine.

Across the house, I could hear Carol return as the front door opened. Maureen went to meet her.

 

We had dessert in the living room. I remained seated on the couch the entire time, allowing Maureen to do all the serving.

I realize, now, that I must have seemed slightly distracted or distant. A few times during the remainder of the evening I asked either Maureen or Carol to repeat a question.

I couldn't help but worry that I would stain my skirt. I could feel the cooling semen forming little streams, slowly trickling over my belly, my sides, between my legs. The spreading cum was kept in place – but only slightly – by my panty girdle. I was hoping that the satin panel, combined the silk lining of my skirt was enough of a barrier.

Maureen's pie was absolutely delicious and, though I was concerned about my skirt, I managed to shoot her a flirtatious look while Carol stood looking at the falling snow outside the living room window. Maureen responded by scooping up a great deal of melted ice cream with her index finger, then sucking it seductively. She left just a touch of the white liquid on her bottom lip, pouted, then slowly licked it up.

It wasn't long after this exchange that Carol announced that she must be leaving. She was expected at a breakfast meeting the following morning and wanted to be fresh.

Of course, we both protested – though only half-heartedly. Maureen was looking increasingly flushed, something she attributed to the wine, but I knew the real cause was a repressed excitement. I leapt to my feet, anxious to escort Carol to the door and finally be alone with the hostess.

"Oh, dear," Maureen said. "Rina, you've stained your skirt."

In horror, I looked down. There was a dark wet patch about three or four inches below the waist. It wasn't very big, but it was undeniably there.

I couldn't help but look at Carol. Her eyes were fixed on the mess. I quickly covered the stain with my hands. My face became quite red, the result of feelings of embarrassment and guilt.

"Ice…Ice cream,' I managed to stammer.

"Oh, Rina, not to worry love," she said reassuringly. "It should come out quite easily. Nothing a half-decent dry cleaner shouldn't be able to handle."

"I agree," said Maureen.

We walked to the front door. I watched as Maureen helped Carol into her long coat. It was all I could do to keep my hands from again covering the stain. An action, I realized, which must have seemed slightly odd. I stood silently, trying to appear as if the dark patch was indeed ice cream, was in fact quite innocent.

Carol held out a gloved hand. "It was such a pleasure meeting you, Rina." She drew me close and kissed both cheeks. I pulled away, perhaps a bit too soon, realizing that her coat was brushing against the front of my skirt.

We stood in the doorway, waving as Carol walked to where her rental car was parked. The temperature had dropped and we both shivered at the cold air beneath our skirts.

Maureen closed the door and looked into my eyes. I felt her draw a finger slowly across the skirt's stain. She licked the finger.

"Mmm… Doesn't really taste like ice cream," she said.

Maureen looked at me accusingly, drawing me further into her game. Kneeling, she began licking the wet patch.

"Hmm… I'm still not convinced this is ice cream. Though it does taste quite wonderful."

I squirmed. "Perhaps, I should remove my skirt."

"Perhaps…" Her fingers travelled along the hem, playing with it. Suddenly, she stopped. She looked up into my eyes.

Slowly, she raised the hem revealing the legs of the panty girdle.

"Well, this is something new," she said. She undid the skirt's hook and drew down the zipper, and helped it drop to the floor.

"Oh, how absolutely delightful."

"Do you like it?" I asked.

"Oh, yes. Very much." She caressed the girdle, running her nails along the flat sewn seams. "What fun."

She hopped to her feet. "Come," she said, dragging me across the foyer. My stiletto caught on the my skirt lying on the floor and I nearly tripped. Maureen positioned me before the mirror and stood behind me, looking at our reflection: to all appearances an attractive brunette whose girdled bottom was being caressed by the left hand of a gorgeous blonde.

"You, my dear, are very, very wet," she said, rubbing my behind.

It was true, the front of my girdle was completely soaked in cum. The contrast with the pristine white satin blouse was quite dramatic.

Both hands moved down, exploring between my legs, seeking some sort of entry. And she found it.

"Oooo…what's this?"

"Exclusive split crotch," I gasped.

"Exclusive… I'll say." She bit my neck. "You are a little tease. Am I to assume by exclusive you mean, for me alone?"

She managed to find a way through the wet silk barrier.

"Oh, yes, Maureen. Yes."

"Oh, my goodness, Rina. You're simply soaked."

Maureen was struggling, fighting against my silk and nylon prison. Exasperated, she withdrew her hand.

"Enough," she said, turning me to face her. "You're not the only one who's wet, my dear."

She grabbed my right hand and shoved it up her dress. Her panties were drenched. I quickly moved my manicured fingers up around the lace and silk, caressing her.

"Oh, please, Rina. Please fuck me."

She worked on undoing the hook and eye of my girdle, forcing down the zipper. The wet silk and nylon was a struggle to remove, but she managed to push it down below my erect cock. My thighs bound by the wet lilac silk and nylon, Maureen helped me to the floor. I lay on my back, as she lowered herself, guiding my cock into her.

"Oh, Rina. Fuck me beautiful." She had barely uttered the words when she shook in orgasm. I came as she collapsed on top of me, her head buried in the smooth white satin between my breasts.

  

  

  

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