Β© 2021, All rights reserved -- mimaster
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The silence in the car was killing him. Ann sat stoically in the passenger seat; a poised coolness about her that he found unusually titillating. She was focused, her calm demeanor one of a woman totally at ease in her decision.
He wasn't sure at first of the reason for her quietness, although he could speculate. He ruled out nerves early on, the look of confidence on her face when she came back from dropping off Owen at the Wallace home nearly bowling him over. That feeling increased tenfold when she stepped into the living room ninety minutes later, having spent that time getting ready for the evening. Her head was slightly tilted to the right as she multitasked, walking as she put a large hoop earring into the hole of her left lobe.
"Holy fuck," he murmured as he got a look at the outfit she'd chosen to wear for the night. At least, until she'd take it off during the party. "I... I see Camilla's outdone herself," he finally managed to get out.
There was no need to reply verbally; satisfied that she'd just gotten his unwavering seal of approval. Her wicked grin and sexy wink sufficed as she flipped her hair to the other side to put on the other gold earring. "Okay, I'm ready," was all she said, her naughty game face already in place.
"Do you want me to get you a coat?" he asked politely.
It was a logical question. After all, it was late January, and it had gotten as low as eleven degrees the night before. But it had dawned a warmer day, the temperature rising into the mid-thirties, and it was going to stay in the twenties overnight. Not that that was warm by any stretch. And not that it mattered to her. Personal comfort really didn't enter into the equation, and she cocked an eyebrow.
"Just warm up the car for me, baby. I'll be fine." He couldn't help but ask if she was sure; he was conditioned to look out for her well-being. Patting him on the cheek, she moved closer, a hand resting over his heart. Instead of kissing him, she flicked her tongue across his lips; a loud groan escaping his chest in response. "There's no need to bring a coat. I won't be wearing clothes on the way home anyway... I'll be wearing cum. Remember?"
She squeezed his shaft through his jeans, feeling it jerk. It pleased her that he was already hard, most certainly from the sight of what she was wearing, and she giggled at his reaction to her comment. He nearly ran into the door as he scrambled to get out to his car to start it.
Yet it still came as some surprise how eerily quiet it was between them once they left the house. She wasn't pensive at all, fully aware of where they were going and what they were about to do... what
she
was about to do. If anything, she looked determined as she sat with her legs crossed, her hands neatly folded on her lap.
He pulled off the interstate, turning onto a state road that would eventually take them to Carol and Barry's house. But first he whipped the sporty red Nissan into a gas station.
"I'll just be a minute," he remarked when he parked in front of a pump.
"I'll do it," she said, quickly unbuckling.
"What? Why?"
"The tank is on my side," she replied, hopping out before he could stop her. Yet she waltzed around the front of the vehicle, stopping at his window, motioning for him to lower it. "We're paying cash tonight," she winked, holding out her hand for a twenty.
He watched in amazement as she strutted toward the convenience store that was a part of the gas station. "God she's incredible," he laughed, shaking his head, knowing the guy inside was about to get an unexpected surprise.
When she walked out she was beaming, heading straight to Neil's window a second time. "It appears we're getting our gas for free tonight," she smiled as she returned the bill.
"And why would that be?"
She replied with a playful shrug, "Apparently he approves of how I'm dressed."
It was that outfit that was making not only his cock throb incessantly, but likely the one belonging to the attendant inside as well. Camilla, the co-owner and head seamstress at Henrietta's House, the upscale lingerie and clothing shop where Ann worked, had created another daring, sexy ensemble at her request. It was obvious that's where it came from, not just because she worked there, but because he'd seen her carry the distinctive yellow bag of the store into the bedroom when she went to get ready; the same bag that was now on the floor of the car next to her small purse.
Ann was wearing what would best be described as a tube dress, and it clung to her curves like it was molded to her skin. The strapless design had two hems, the top coming just above her breasts; the bottom extending just past her hips. But the most spectacular feature of the dress was that it was made from a light golden material that was literally see-through. It hid nothing, showing everything she had to offer underneath, from her dark areolas and thick, rock hard nipples, to her blonde landing strip above her pussy... and everything in between.
She'd gone without underwear totally, not bothering with some of the barely-there items she'd worn to previous parties; the half bras that would hold up her breasts, or the pieces of elastic that formed the illusion of a G-string. Instead she went slightly more traditional, at least for someone attempting to dress rather slutty. She had on red fishnet stockings and a red garter belt, along with a pair of matching four-inch spiked heels.
Then there were the fashion accessories. She was wearing another choker; this one a bit more risquΓ© than the one she wore on her weekend anniversary as a Bond girl. First it was red instead of black, to go with her stockings and heels. And it was made of leather, a gold buckle in back keeping it snug against her elegant neck. In front there was a shiny golden ring, very similar to the hoops in her ears. It had the feel of a collar, while looking more stylish.
She also wore two garters, one on each thigh, made of material that matched the color of her dress. Peering at her through the passenger side windows while she pumped the gas, standing there like she was wearing a casual outfit on a balmy summer day, it struck him. The colors were exactly the same as what her favorite team would be wearing during the game later than night. She'd taken a page from Martina's script, having watched her dress in an authentic Dallas Cowboys cheerleader costume the previous two years. But Ann was putting a whole new X-rated spin on being a cheerleader, all in the name of her beloved 49ers.
She stood outside the car in the fading light of the afternoon, ignoring the elements, even going so far as to wash the windshield, giving Neil and anyone that might be looking a show in the process. It was then that he noticed the 49er pendant, about the size of a half-dollar, albeit in an oval shape, dangling from the ring on the front of the collar.
When she finished with the gas, she sat calmly in her seat, crossing her legs as they'd been before, letting the warmth of the heater wash over her.
"So... was he cute?" he chuckled.
"Who?"
"You know who I mean... the cashier inside the store. Was he cute?"
"Very. I kind of feel sorry for him though. He's going to miss the game."
"How do you know that?"
"I asked if he was going to watch it. He told me he's here until two in the morning and he'll miss the game."