My partners and I had just launched a new yacht design and to celebrate, we hosted a cocktail party at local gallery for clients and friends to show off the pictures of the new ship. After so long not being able to get together at this sort of event, it was sure to be especially well attended and especially well celebrated by all that came.
I was happy to go, even without a date. It was always great fun when we threw a party and there were many interesting people coming whom I'd not seen in far too long. We made sure that the champagne would be plentiful and the atmosphere relaxed and fun with lots of creatives and lots of entertainment.
The guests were all dressed to the 9's, far more glamourous than would typically happen at this sort of event. Clearly 2 years of being in house pants and pyjamas had been wearing on everyone's nerves and this was a great opportunity for many to blow off some steam.
I arrived and made a slow circuit of the venue. The party was in full swing and in every room there were pictures decorating the walls, mock-ups on stands looking every bit like modern art sculptures and roaming the venue were entertainers dancing or playing instruments. Plus the guests and, of course, the ubiquitous staff with trays of canapes and drinks.
Eventually, I came across my design guru Bob, holding court in one of the larger spaces. He came across to say hi after I caught his eye and we spent a few minutes catching up on how things were going. Smoothly, we agreed.
After some more talk, he looked at me with a crooked smile and said 'you haven't seen her yet have you?'
'Who?' I asked, looking every bit as confused as I felt.
'Blonde, Black dress, champagne heels?'
'My friend' I said, 'we both know that my only knowledge of Champagne is what we're serving in glasses tonight. And as for black dresses, I've seen one or two. Unless the lady is in a dress made of bottles, I have absolutely no idea who you're talking about I'm sorry.'
'Well then, stop wasting your time with me and go take a look around. Perhaps you'll find something you'll like...' he said and with that, he turned away to greet the next group of well-wishers. I rolled my eyes, called him a drama-queen under my breath (not for the first time this week, mind you) and decided to go outside for some fresh air.
Well of course, that's when I saw you.
Facing away from me, you were leaning against the balustrade looking out over the gardens. Your dress was indeed black, your heels and clutch the same colour as the glass of champagne in your hand. But to describe you as simply wearing a black dress is like describing the ocean as simply blue. Its factually accurate perhaps, but it misses the point by a staggering degree.
But then, how do you even begin to describe something like the ocean? It's just not possible to do it any justice.
So suffice it to say, it was a black cocktail dress. Made of sheer lace and completely transparent except around the waist and bust. With full length sleeves and no back but for a thin strap across the shoulders and finishing mid-thigh, it was a masterwork of showing nothing and yet everything at the same time.
Yes, I was smitten. And infatuated. And more than a little turned on. And I hadn't even seen your face yet!
So what next? Well, I don't actually remember the details -- only a vague sense of excitement and impatience. I did introduce myself, we did talk. Against all odds, you actually seemed to enjoy my company.
In fact, I believe that it was you who suggested we leave. I'd be damned if I would refuse that offer.
So we made a hasty exit across the grounds instead of back through the party.
Found a taxi and made our way back to my apartment.
I walk out of the kitchen into the living room and see you, again, from behind. This time, your standing out the large windows which overlook the city. I put the champagne glasses on the large dining table which stands in the middle of the room, forgetting about them immediately.
Walking up behind you, I take you in my arms and you melt back into me. We stand like that for a while, enjoying each other's company and drinking in the sights of the night.
Eventually, my mind starts to wander, not surprising really, given that I have a lovely view over your shoulder at the firm breasts just below. Inevitably, I begin to grow in my trousers, slowly extending down as my desire grows. Clearly you can feel it pressing against you when I notice you starting to gently sway your hips, rubbing yourself against me. With the movement, albeit slight, I can still feel you moving against me, I can feel that there is not an ounce of fat on your body, your beautifully sculptured muscles rippling beneath me. The feeling is so erotic, any reservations I may have still had immediately left my head, along with the last vestiges of restraint.
