Charlotte's Story

Well, you guys were so nice on my first story, that I have screwed up my courage to go on. Like the last one, I have to give you the disclaimer on the dialog. This was some time ago, over 18 months ago now, and so the dialogue is how I remember it. Other than that and maybe some small details I mess up, it's true.

So... my last story ended after the Christmas party where Paul and I got together, or as the younger people say nowadays, "hooked up.". That night could have easily ended up as a one night stand, considering how fast it all came together, and I was so sure that it would be. I mean, I bet other women in my age range (over forty, alas) can relate to that really hot night, and then being left to wait and ultimately not hear back from a guy. So I wasn't counting on anything.

But Paul called me the same day, at lunch, and we had dinner that night, with sex for the last course, and then the next night. It was like, an every night thing. And in between, we talked and talked. There was SUCH a connection there. I was overwhelmed (in a good way) by it. Seriously pinching myself at how good this all felt.

Then on the night before New Year's Eve, we were talking over dinner. He told me he had to go to New York City to a New Year's Eve party being put on by one of his best clients. He asked me if I would like to go. We would fly up early the next morning. I had the day off and said yes as fast as a woman could say yes. At seven we were at Byrd Field and an hour and a half later, a cab was taking us to our room overlooking Time Square. He obviously had known of this party all along and already had a room in place. I mean, who can get a room on Times Square on New Year's Eve.

So at ten in the morning, we drop our bags in the room and I realize I have forgotten the ultimate woman's question: What do I need to wear. I had a nice dress, but when I asked him what to wear, he smiled. "Do you trust me?" he asked.

His smile told me that was a loaded question and I thought about it a moment before I answered. I thought about all our conversations, and how he treated me in public and privately. I thought about how much I had already come to love pleasing him and so I nodded, which brought a big smile to his face.

"Give me a few minutes to make some calls." He went into the bedroom, shut the door, and I could hear him on the phone. He was in there maybe ten minutes or so. Then he came out. He had three small pieces of paper from the room note pads. I could see a big number on each one. 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. And an address and name.

"I have to visit my client for a few hours." he said. "Go visit these places in the order I have them and they will take care of you. Follow their advice and I promise you, you will shine tonight at the party. Take all day if you want. I won't get back till 8 or so." And he handed me the pieces of paper, gave me a kiss.

The first place was a spa. They gave me a facial, did my nails, gave me a pedicure. I was really liking the way this was going. I felt totally pampered when I left, and it was only a little after noon.

Number 2 was a dress shop. The woman there gave me a look and smiled. "A perfect 12." she said with this kind of European accent and with a joyous smile, as if that was the best size in the world for a woman. "And with such a nice waist! Paul was right about his choice. Let's try some things on." Some things turned out to be a variety of black pencil skirts. I don't even know why I tried on more than the first one because the first one she handed me fit as if it was made for me. I was a little embarrassed at how well it fit in fact, but I liked it. I tried to pay, but she would not allow it. "Paul has taken care of it." she said, with a sparkle in her eye.

So then it was off to the next store, less than a block away. This one was a shoe store. And yes, I am so much the stereotypical woman when it comes to shoes. I love them. I asked, as the note told me to, for Clara, who turned out to be a tall Indian woman. I told her who she was and she broke into a smile that lit up her eyes. "Show me what you will be wearing." she said, and I pulled out the skirt.

"Any colors with the top?" she asked. And I realized I didn't have a clue. So I played it safe and told her I was looking for something simple and black, and in almost no time I had three amazing sets of high heel pumps to choose from. I chose a pair I loved and was stunned to find they were Jimmy Choo heels. Honestly, I love shoes, but never thought I would own a pair. I have a very average kind of job by the way. But I was beginning to enjoy this.

Stop number four was a hair parlor. Seve was the hairdresser I had to ask for and be breezed in all gay sweetness and enthusiasm and took me to his room. That;'s right, his room. These guys didn't have a section on a counter, they had actual rooms. He sat next to me, his fingers playing with my hair and asked me if I wanted it up or down. I looked at the sophisticated things I had so far, and went for an updo. Two hours later, I had amazing hair. "Paul has taken care of it." he told me, just like every one else.

I was beginning to enjoy this. Then it was all to a Merle Normal shop where the woman doing my face was ancient, but her makeup was perfect. I looked in the mirror and could hardly believe my eyes. I Looked young!

I could hardly wait for the last stop. It grabbed a cab and it took me to... a corset shop. Wait a minute, I said to myself. The last stop? Something's missing! Like a top! But I took a deep breath and went in. I told him I trusted him and I had to go forward. Besides, this was New York, and no one knew me here. The woman there, when I told her who I was, gave me a close look. "Turn around." she said, and I did. "Show me what Paul bought for you." she said, and as she said it, I began to feel like a kept woman, or how I expected an escort to feel, like I was dressing for his pleasure totally, and I have to tell you, it was a hot feeling for me. I felt more totally his in that moment after just a week with him, than I had felt in my marriage of nearly ten years. I showed her what I had and she had me try on the shoes, spin around, and nodded. "Paul was right. I know just the thing."

Five minutes later she came out of the back room with a black brocade corset. I went to try it on. "No need." she said. "It is perfect and it will fit perfect. I know these things. Here, take these stockings too. They will finish it off perfectly.

Then it was off to the room again. Seven O'clock. Paul would be there to get me in an hour. I went back, and there was a note at the front desk for me. From Paul. "Welcome back." it said. "Please wear everything I bought you today, and nothing else. Trust me. You will be perfect.".

Shoes, skirt, a corset and stockings. No blouse. No panties. I didn't know whether I wanted to kill him or play with myself because I was so turned on. This was a kind of naughtiness I had read about on some of the sites I visited, but it's NOT the kind of thing I had ever done before, either during my marriage or after. It was so not part of my character.

I undressed first, and seeing myself in the mirror, I felt like I had to do something. I didn't want to take a shower or bath because it would mess up my makeup, but I decided I had to do something else I had never done before. I had to shave my pubic area. I needed to feel as smooth as my outfit to feel right, somehow. I was scared I might cut myself or he might not like it, but I had to do it. And so I lathered myself up with my favorite vanilla shampoo and oh so carefully shaved. After I was done, I could not help touching it myself.

I liked it. It looked and felt like silk. And I felt like a call girl. As far as I knew, no one did that except as a sexy enticement. Whores did it. Porn stars did it. And women who acted like sluts did it. And now me. I was totally turned on and played and touched and probed till I came. I just had to.

I put everything on. I was amazed at how the corset looked like a sleek top and went with the skirt to create a finished looking elegantly sexy outfit. I played with the lacing a good bit to find the right blend of sexy pushup, narrow waisted without looking too trashy. Trust me when I say it's a very close balance.

But as I finally got it right, with my breasts held out just so, and my waist a bit narrower than normal, and I clipped on the stockings to the corset, Then put on the skirt, feeling my nakedness beneath it all. Then at last the shoes.

Then I looked at myself in the mirrors that lined one wall. OMG! I looked so good. I could hardly believe it. I looked good and felt sexy like I had never felt before. I was half turned on despite having come already once. Then I heard Paul come into the room. I could see his approval immediately.

The party was close by and we spent all night there seeing the New Year in among strangers. And I experienced something else I had never experienced before. Men looking at me with lust. Not just one or two, but lots of men in good suits, men of substance looking at me with admiration and clearly wishing they were with me instead of their wives and dates. As Paul introduced me to them, some were polite, and some were a bit forward, looking me over in detail, or pulling me close than what I would consider normal as they gave me a polite cheek kiss, their hands on my hip, or a little lower.

I have read about women put on display like that, but I never had thought of MY being the object like that. I was turned on beyond anything I imagined could be possible. I mean,l totally crazy over it. Paul was always nearby, always touching me somewhere as these men of position and power (or at least I imagined them to be that way.) were thinking about me, and what I looked like less dressed. It was crazy hot. And the more we all drank, the hotter I got. By midnight, I was so ready to get back to the room.

We hit the elevator and I was all over Paul. Kissing him and pulling him to press against me as we kissed. I could feel his cock, still a little unfamiliar to me after only a week, hard against me. We barely got inside before I was unzipping the skirt and letting it fall to the floor. I undressed him faster and more frantically than I think I had ever undressed a man before in my life. And we never made it to the bed. I had him on me, humping me hard on the sofa, first with him on top, then I turned and he took me doggy style. There was not tenderness in this, it was just plain lust and I had little in the way of reserve left. I had been polite as long as I could be. I came soon after he took me from behind and he just pounded at me until I came a second time, and collapsed, gasping for breath. Then I moved to the bed. I still had on my corset and shoes, and I remember tossing one my shoes on the bed and climbing slowly on. Talk about rag doll. That was me. I heard him snap a picture before he got on the bed with me.

I felt him caress my curves along the corset, until he got to my bare backside. I laid there, so incredibly satisfied.

"You aren't done yet." I heard him say in a soft, but firm voice. I looked at him and he guided my hand down to his crotch. I felt him still hard, and looked down, where he was glistening with my juices, and I realized he had not come yet. I looked at him and as if he read my mind, my wondering what he wanted me to do, he said simply, "your mouth.".

I got up on all fours on the bed, my mouth close to his cock, smooth, shaved and swollen red. "Lick it." he said. And I did, slowly up and down his shaft. I knew he was watching. In one short week I had already come to understand that he liked to watch me pleasure him. I licked his shaft, his balls,

"Now, suck it gently." he said. And by now, I was excited at how I was bringing him pleasure. I wanted to show off for him. I took his cock head in slowly, and backed off. Doing it slow like that, I found I was somehow more aware of the feel of his cock, of the little nubs at the edge of his cock head, the velvet hardness of his head. I became aware of texture, of his taste, His hips began to move slowly and I let him slide himself into my mouth at his own pace, in and out, in and out, slowly, but deeper, deeper.

Then he pulled out, and pulled me to him. I was surprised, but still wet as he repositioned me reverse cowboy and pushed me down on him. There was no slow working in, he pushed me down hard and it was almost like shock to be filled so hard and fast. I gasped, cried out in pleasure. Still pumping, he whispered. Play with yourself. I suddenly remembered - there were mirrors on one wall and he was watching my own excitement.

I reached down and gently touched my clit just as his arms reached up and his hands cupped my breasts, his fingers on my nipples and that was it. So much stimulation at once. My body just went wild and the orgasm rose and hit me hard like nothing I had ever experienced. I was out of control, crying out as he pumped me and pumped me, wave after wave of orgasm until suddenly I felt his hips rise and felt myself become terribly full as his hands pushed hard on my hips and he came, hard, I swear I could feel his come hot inside me. I was crazy sensitive and he was unrelenting in his last spasms.

Afterwards, I collapsed on him,. My back against his chest. Both of us gasping for breath. I realized how much the whole day had been one big build up for the moment just passed. Everything, the clothes, all the preparation, the corset, the spa, hair and makeup, the being oogled at the party. And most of all, just being told precisely what to do, like some kind of call girl. It was all part of it, part of what made the sex reach to such a climax. It was.... amazing.