Chapter 2 -
Fuck My Tits
Roxy slept well that night. She wasn't even sure how she had gotten home. But then she rolled over and looked at the bedside lamp. Her stomach did a somersault - it wasn't hers.
Fuck, what had she done? She rolled the other way and felt a pang of relief when she found the bed empty of any other parties. Or maybe it was regret that tickled her belly now, she mused as the night came back to her.
Willyam! The perfect man. She sighed and touched herself as she recalled him groping her nipples. Then shook her head, she was not going to masturbate in her bestie's guest bedroom! Though...
God, it had been good. The way he went to his knees, and then he had stood up and filled her; really filled her. She touched a tender spot and smiled. And caressed. Tegan, be damned! It was her fault anyway, so she can damn well let me have some play time, she figured.
No panties, he had said, well she would see about that! She was not going to
slut
herself out, that was for sure. But the thought of it sent a thrill through her already throbbing clit. Roxy touched, just to make sure. And to dream, she admitted to herself as she drew a lazy circle that tightened until she was frigging her button.
She backed off, not yet, she thought. First, I need a plan for this fantasy come true. Roxy spread her legs wide, then closed them. Open, close, and then a little shimmy as she pinched a nipple. She sighed. Plan girl, plan, she admonished.
For dinner with a businessman, I should look - professional. So, a blouse and skirt. White and black of course. White cotton blouse, a tight one so he is distracted from the get-go and talking to her tits. A spark of energy coursed through her body and she chased it with feather-light fingertips.
And that longish black pleated leather skirt. It would be perfect. Or would it? I would sweat if the room wasn't cold and the food was hot. And that wouldn't be for good later, right? No one likes a hot sweaty box, do they now?
Though if I am telling him what and how, mmm. This time she slipped her fingers inside and diddled a little as she imagined Willyam on his knees, again, but licking hot sweaty skin, not pussy scented cotton. No panties indeed, it would serve him right!
No, that was never going to work. Professional, remember - not sluttish. Scratch the skirt and blouse. She pressed her palms against her breasts and ran her fingers down to her pussy to say goodbye to that plan. Her clit protested, and she tweaked it by way of apology.
The snug, grey, pencil dress, that was it. While it wouldn't show off her nipples like a cotton blouse would, it did have a zipper down the front of the bodice for quick access. Besides, its bold black borders accentuated her body parts nicely and made her look slimmer at the same time.
And she could always drop the zipper a little to give him some cleavage to fantasize on if required. Win, win. She plunged her fingers deep and hard into her pussy while thinking of Willyam's face between her tits. Yes, the pencil dress for sure.
Underneath though, that was the real dilemma. She wouldn't need a bra, that was a given. Her tits may be old, but they were still perky and held their own. She pinched each nipple in turn with her free hand while the other moved from her slit and back to frigging her clit. Roxy held her breath, lest Tegan hear her panting through the walls.
A garter would be nice, with stockings, but then she wouldn't be wearing panties, and that was
not
going to happen. Roxanne imagined Willyam pushing her dress up to her waist, following the stockings with his tongue. Inhaling her scent as he gazed at her garter framed pussy.
Her fingers thrust deep inside as she imagined his tongue there instead. A tremble coursed through her body as a low whimper escaped her lips before she could stifle it. So, just a simple pair of knickers, she decided as another moan threatened. He would not be telling her what to do. No way. She was the director of this affair.
Fuck Tegan, she thought and let out her breath in a louder moan than intended. She giggled but didn't pause. It was getting quite warm under the sheets now, so she rolled over onto her knees, letting the covers fall off her shoulders.
She stared at the pillow, picturing Willyam's face there as she rode him at her pleasure. One hand between her legs, the other on his chest for support. She groaned and fingered faster. Hell, what was she doing? But the thought didn't stop her though. She was to far gone, too close to her goal.
"Fuck!" she said out loud and collapsed back onto the pillow, sated. "That man won't know what to do," she mumbled further.
The knock on the door roused her. Had Tegan been knocking before? Before she came? How long ago was that? Embarrassment turned her face red and she jumped from the bed to pull on the robe Tegan had left for her.
Just in time too, she thought as the door swung open. Tegan just stood there, one hand on her hip, the other holding a glass of orange juice.
"Heard you were - ah, up. Figured you might like some OJ to get you moving, but," and here she sniffed, "I can tell you already have been." She shoved the glass into Roxy's hand. "And in my daughter's bedroom too. Such a slut!" she mock growled.
"Come on, I want all the details, now! You were too buzzed last night to say anything other than giggle -
door banger and no panties
. Lucky I'm your bestie!"
"Ah, mind if I shower first?" Roxy laughed, and then took a long gulp of juice. "This is good. Thanks."
