To my loyal readers, sorry it's been so long since I've written. This story is out of chronological order with my earlier accounts. I guess you could place it near the beginning of the exploits of Paula and Sean.
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To set the scene: I love looking at daringly dressed women and I love when my wife Paula will do it for me. The more daring the better. This is really one of my prurient interests I guess you could say. I can't count the number of times I've pressed Paula to wear something sexy when we are going out or to "Lose her undies" while we are out. Most of the time she'll gently turn me down, or tease me but not deliver, but sometimes when she is feeling sexy she'll go for it. It virtually guarantees a night of hot sex later and perhaps this "cause and effect" is what prompts me to persist in asking for it. But probably not, since there is just something so erotic about holding your wife in your arms and feeling nothing under her thin clothes.
It works for her too. Feeling her unrestrained breasts sway under her top, feeling her nipples hardening and becoming clearly visible to any roving eye excites her. Feeling the cool air against her well-shaved and bare pussy under a skirt stokes her fires, ensuring some very heated lovemaking later. Sometimes not even later, as we grab and grope each other in the car.
Which brings us to this story. I don't even remember exactly the affair: a party or get-together of some kind at a co-workers house. A bunch of friends and acquaintances, people we work with, their spouses, friends of friends; you know how these things are. Lots of munchies and lots of booze.
Paula and I were chatting with two or three other couples that included our hosts: Bob and Vicky. I'd worked closely with Bob many years ago and while he had changed to a different department we still kept in contact. The fact that they lived nearby made it easier. They had kids about the same age as ours who went to the same high school so as could be expected, the conversation drifted to the trials and tribulations of raising teenagers today.
Their daughter Chelsea had grown into a beauty, and it seemed she was starting to realize that her looks were getting a lot of attention from the boys. Her clothes were becoming tighter and briefer all the time and Vicky was having nothing to do with it, at least she wasn't going to permit Chelsea to "dress to impress" as they say.
"You should have seen the outfit she had on last Friday night." Vicky lamented. "Skirt up to here, top cut down to there, I made her go change. She rolled her eyes and complained that all the girls wore this, but I would have none of it."
"The only woman walking out of this house dressed like a slut is ME!" She added, smiling at Bob.
This elicited a number of laughs and guffaws from the assembled group as we could all relate to the challenge of teenage daughters, but this really struck a chord with me and my twisted mind.
"Vicky, Bob, you are great. I love it." I told them, and I meant it. In fact, I couldn't hardly focus on anything else for the next hour or more at the party. Don't ask me who I spoke to or what was discussed, because the only thing on my dirty mind was what Vicky said. Mental pictures of her scantily dressed form drifted across my mind's eye.
I have no doubt the beers I drank influenced me but later as things wound down and we prepared to leave I spoke to Bob & Vicky on the side:
"The next time you play dress-up, let me know. I'll meet you and buy you each a drink."
Thankfully, this elicited smiles and chuckles and it wasn't taken too seriously, especially by Bob I guess since I didn't want to appear to be coming on to his wife.
"That was awfully forward of you, don't you think?" Paula grilled me as we drove home.
"Yeah, I really shouldn't have said that. It's just, well, you know how I am about this sort of thing, and she just put it out there."
"I don't think she put it out there for you."
"Well, I'm not going to feel guilty about saying it, she put it out there and I replied. It's not like I came up to her out of the blue and said, Hey Vicky, how about dressing like a slut for me, or anything."
"Do you have the hots for her or something?"
"No, like I said, I do have a thing about women, especially you, dressing sexily and she said what she said, so I . . . "
And it's true that I don't have the hots for Vicky. She's average in just about every way as far as I could tell. Average looks, average weight, average build. I could imagine that she could turn a few heads if she dressed up, but I couldn't really tell at the moment. I had never seen her dressed up or in a bikini or anything. I even had a hard time trying to picture her dressed slutily, not that I didn't try like crazy. At any rate, we went home and while I was worried that Paula would be pissed off, she seemed ok and even fucked me good that night.
About two weeks later, Friday night about 9pm: I just got out of the shower and Paula was about to jump in. We hadn't made any big plans so we were going to try the local pub for a drink or two. Now that the kids were teenagers they had their own plans and we didn't need to worry about babysitters. The phone rang unexpectedly. I didn't immediately recognize the number and almost didn't answer it.
"Hello?" I grumbled.
"Sean, you're home? Good." It's Bob, slurring his words.
"Yeah, I'm home. What's up Bob?" I'm caught off guard here, not expecting this call.
"Well, you remember what you said at the house the other day, about when Vicky dresses up?"
I'm totally floored. Paula is standing in the bathroom doorway looking at me with a questioning expression on her face.
"Oh, yeah, I remember. Hope you're not pissed."
"No, no, nothing like that. We both thought it was funny, and well, you know, thought it was cool." Bob is obviously drunk.
"So what are you guys up to?" I'm not sure where this is going.
"We're at RJ's over in Portside" The music blasting in the background.
"Sounds like you are having fun."
"Yeah, it's great, two-fers until midnight. We were wondering if you guys wanted to come out."
"Uhhh, let me ask Paula"
"Well, you said if Vicky dressed up, you'd want to see it."
"Right. No shit? She's dressed up?"
"Yeah man, and SHE suggested that I call you."
"Wow. Hold on a minute."
Holding the phone I turned to Paula. "It's Bob, he and Vicky are over at RJ's and they want to know if we wanted to come out."
"Now?"
"Yeah, I guess she's dressed up sexy and I said that stuff the other day and now, well I guess I owe them a drink."
Paula narrowed her eyes and gave me a rather cross expression. "Do you want to go?"
"Well, we were going to have a drink anyway, and RJ's as good a place as any. I did say the thing about her dressed up, and now they've called. Yeah, I'd like to go."
"You just want to see how she's dressed."
"Well, duh. Hey, we won't go if it bothers you. Or we'll have one drink and bug out."
"OK, let me get into the shower." and she closed the door.
I got back to the phone. "Bob, Paula's cool about it, we'll be there as soon as she gets ready."
"Excellent, see you then." and he hung up.
I tried vainly to occupy myself downstairs as I waited for Paula in the shower. My mind kept racing about what Vicky could be wearing and how she might show off. While I mentioned that Paula will sometimes dress sexily for me, we hadn't discussed that for this evening. I did notice that she took a long time in the shower, so I hoped she was wearing out a razor or two.
When the shower finally stopped running, I went up with a beer for each of us.
"Liquid courage?" Paula asked.
