Lucy, A First Time
The taxi was driving up the ramp out of Paddington Station. "Depending on the traffic it will take us about thirty minutes to get to Chelsea," said the driver over the intercom, which was necessary as the glass partition between him and my wife and me sitting in the back was robust and soundproof.
"Thanks," I replied, noticing the button next to the little green light on the partition labelled: "For Privacy Press - When Red light shows Driver can not hear." I caught the eye of the driver in the rear view mirror. His eyes flickered between the road in front and his rear view mirror.
"We may be ten minutes late. Are you nervous?" I asked her.
She took my hand. "Oh God, yes," she whispered. "What have we done?"
"We could just cancel if you wish."
"No." She looked into my eyes. "I need this."
"OK, well we better get you ready. Take off your jacket," I told her.
"Can the driver hear us?" asked Lucy.
"Only when the green light is on," I replied as I pointed it out to her. It was still green. "Take off your jacket," I repeated. She looked at the drivers rear view mirror. We stopped at a traffic light. His eyes met mine.
She slipped it off her shoulders. Under it she was wearing a lightweight pale blue sleeveless Kashmir sweater. The fitting was perfect, tightly clinging to the curve of her full sized breasts. I could see her bosom expanding and deflating in quick succession as she breathed deeply. There was a deep V neckline showing a fair bit of cleavage. I slid the shoulders of the sweater down her arms pushing the top down. Her pink lace bra containing her full breasts was now displayed. The rigid nipples poked through the material and her dark areola were clearly visible.
I passed my hand around her back to gain access to the bra strap buckle. I was proficient at undoing it with one hand. I then pulled her arms free of the sweater so I could remove the bra leaving her proud breasts fully exposed. I pulled on both nipples so they were rigidly extended and ran a hand over each soft breast. I put the bra on the seat beside me and sat back. Her hands went to cover her breasts. I removed them and told her to put them under her thighs. "But he can see in the mirror," she whispered.
"I know." This was the first time her breasts had been exposed in public since we married. They bounced as we drove over some pot holes but the nipples remained pronounced. My cock stirred. It was enormously exciting. After another red traffic light which gave the driver the chance to admire the view, I slipped the sweater back up. I looked at the rear view mirror to catch the driver's smile. Her breasts were heaving inside the Kashmir and her nipples were now easily defined under the light material. I gently moved my hand over them. If you have never experienced the feel of the curve of a firm breast and hard nipple through the soft wool of a Kashmir sweater you have not lived!
"The email said no bra and panties," I told her loudly enough for the driver to hear.
She took my hand, gave it a squeeze and kissed me on the lips. "Wait until we get there," she told me quietly.
"No," I replied. "Take them off now. This is what he said."
"But..."
We were in a traffic jam. The driver could spend more time on the rear view mirror. "But, he can see," she repeated.
"I know! Take them off and give them to me." The driver adjusted the mirror.
Lucy lifted her bottom off the seat, put her hands under her skirt and lowered the panties to her knees. Momentarily her newly shaved vagina was on display as she slid the panties down her legs. She quickly replaced her skirt and handed me the matching pink lace panties which joined the bra on the seat beside me.
"Good girl." I told her as I gave her a kiss.
"Are you two going somewhere special?" Asked the cab driver watching us in the mirror as Lucy replaced her jacket.
"No," I replied. "My wife here has an appointment," I told him. Lucy shuddered and squeezed my hand again.
"Oh! Nothing difficult I hope."
"Well it shouldn't be. She should be able to handle it," I replied.
"Here we are then," he said as he manoeuvred the taxi into the curb. I paid with a credit card and gave him a five pound tip.
As Lucy exited the cab she pointed to the bra and panties still on the seat. "Don't forget those," she whispered to me.
"You won't need them now," I replied. She gave me a long hard stare.
Once she was on the pavement the driver looked at Lucy and said: "Hope that you have a successful appointment, love."
She blushed. "Thank you."
As I joined her on the pavement I smiled at him and added; "Don't worry. She will."
xXx
We walked up the steps towards the front door of number 134. We were eight minutes late. But then one could not hope to predict the traffic in London. The door was answered by a pretty blond woman of about 40 who introduced herself as Veronica. She was tall, slim and elegant, wearing a tight black skirt, breaking three inches above the knee, and a crisp tight white blouse, which accentuated her breasts. She wore her hair down. As she looked at her watch she raised an eyebrow and explained that she was Mr Prendergast's assistant. She took Lucy's jacket and placed it on a chair. She stood in front of Lucy and took both her hands. Her eyes skimmed up and down her body, lingering at her breasts. "Good. Mr Prendergast gets very upset if a client disregards his wishes." She turned and led us towards a door which she explained was the study. She knocked, then opened the door.