She felt she had been getting ready for the evening date all afternoon. The shower had been particularly luxurious. A full shave of everywhere lower than her neck and lots of scented soap whilst the hot water cascaded over her flesh.
Stepping out, she towelled herself dry and applied moisturizer to her skin, careful to rub lots of invigorating balm to her pubic mound to calm the skin. Her lower lips swelled under the ministrations and her breathing deepened in anticipation of the night ahead.
Face now made up, the perfect choice of jewellery, a more reddish than normal lipstick applied and hair dried and teased into design, she pulled on a pair of lacey panties and fitted the patent black stilletos onto her feet.
Feeling sexy she got to her feet and stood before the wall mirror to open the wardrobe door. She needed to check the rail for an appropriate dress. A glance into the mirror.
It had been a long while since she had lingered in front of a mirror, but her endeavours with exercise had obviously started to pay off. The squats had begun to tone her thighs. The situps her abdomen and the press ups her arms. Jogging had been getting easier too over the last few days. Hard to see immediate results, perseverance meant more gradual promise plus a general feeling of fitness.
She twisted slightly to mirror and regarded her ass. That had always been pert. Fuckable. Not skinny, not bulbous. Just right in fact.
The heels too made her legs seem longer some how. They stretched her frame. Compensating for balance, she was also stood upright, shoulders back, her remaining tummy pulled in and breasts thrust out. Each a good cup.
Watching herself in the mirror, her hand squeezed each one in turn and pinched their nipple to make it protrude a little more. No need for a bra - more trouble than it was worth. She smoothed her hand down over her tummy, and flicked an exploring finger under the elastic of her panties to find the smooth slit between her legs. Lingered on her clit a moment.
She squarely faced the mirror again and a smile crept over her face. She felt good. Her shoulders back and taking a few deep breaths, she felt tension leaving her body. It had been worth the effort she had put in. He had always said she was sexy, and right at that moment, looking at the results of her hard work, she could see it for herself. Encouraged her in fact.
But what to wear?
What would set this effort off.
And what coat?
Her mind skipped back to Carleon. Which coat had that been? It was a warmish evening tonight. She didn't want too long a coat. A jacket would be enough.
She saw the perfect ensemble and smiled.
He would be in for a treat.
The eventual knock on the door. Excitement flooded her belly.
He was here.
The evening had officially started.
She walked carefully down the stairs, gripping the handrail for support. This was not the moment for a twisted ankle or to arrive at the bottom quicker than she expected. Her previous practice around the house had built confidence and she was able to almost sway her hips with each step in order to create a sensual movement through the space.
Plucking her keys from the dish by the door, she opened it wide and smiled at her beau in welcome.
Tall and powerfully built, the man greeted her vision in the doorway with an appreciative low whistle. She twisted one knee to the other on the ball of her foot in a coquettish manner, and playfully popped the tip of her thumb in between her broadly grinning lips.
She had chosen a classy double-breasted leatherette jacket in midnight blue which came to just above her knee, and clinched around her midriff with four overlarge buttons. It matched her black stilletos and she felt on top of the world.
Ever the gentleman, he took her proffered hand, locked the front door, and escorted her to the car. After he opened the passenger door she sat cautiously and kept her knees together to swing her legs in.
The journey was not long and the remote pub that he had chosen for the meal was surprisingly quiet. They found a booth away from the main thoroughfare for more privacy and slid into the crushed velvet seats alongside each other.
He slid off his own jacket and folded it over the armrest, then looked expectantly at her.
She shook her head in reply, happy to keep hers on and crossed her legs instead, one her hands taking the stem of a wine glass at her place setting and starting to caress it.
He couldn't help but notice the allure of this simple act. The heels pointed her feet, her heel pointing directly at him. She flexed her calf muscle and this made the jacket ride up an obviously naked thigh. His eyes almost bulged from his head in response.
She noticed and was pleased. Her recent personal improvement efforts were paying massive dividends. She undid the upper studs from the jacket and pulled the lapels back, allowing the curviture of her breasts to arc the material forward and show the upper soft mounds of her breasts.
He shifted in his seat, obviously in slight discomfort between his legs. She inwardly giggled as he surreptitiously tried to rearrange himself without being noticed, pretended to look away while straightening her back and allowing her breasts to move sensuously.
Wine was ordered and the bottle breathed between them as the menu was perused.
The meal was a welcome treat to themselves after the months apart. Conversation flowed and an occasional hand on each other's arms kept unmentioned desires at the front of each of their minds.
His hand on her leg whilst waiting for the main course. Her changing her crossed knee on occasion, very aware of the jacket's high hemline and the tantalizing glimpse she was giving him of her thigh below.
It was during the Coq Au Vin that his hand, placed on the warm flesh at the top of her leg, crept beyond the hemline. All of a sudden, she became aware of his little finger stroking the front of her panties caressing the bulging slit between her legs and the moist area in the vee.
Her body shuddered appreciatively and her legs parted almost instinctively. She had been getting progressively more and more damp - her body betraying the need she bad, the lust she was feeling.
She took her last mouthful of chicken and placed the cutlery together at the side of the pushed back plate.
A shared look of desire and then her hands reached for her jacket buttons.
One by one they popped open and all too soon the two sides of her coat were apart.
Aware of her posture, she sat back in the seat and pulled her shoulders back.
There was no resisting.
No mortal man could.
A distant jukebox sprang into life and Stevie Nicks was suddenly accompanying their moment.
Feeling exuberant and more alive than at any previous point in her life, Helen glanced down at her unbuttoned jacket with the clear view of her cleavage and belly to her bare thighs, unshielded by any skirt or dress and a mischievous and knowing smile curled her rouged lips once more.
She had earlier decided on nothing beneath the jacket, hoping it would make a nice, tasty and unexpected desert for him after the meal. To her own ends, it was time to make good on her fantasies - to explore her own limits. It really was now or never.
At a cough from a neighbouring table and suddenly aware of her surroundings, she gave a quick glance around the ornate, sculpted, Tudor wooden pillars at the entrance to the booth, to make sure she wasn't being watched by anyone else. The second chorus of 'Edge of Seventeen' added perfectly to the mood.
Already his hand was at her face, cupping her cheek and pulling her into a long overdue kiss.
No resistance on her part. She responded hungrily and their breath mingled heatedly; her eyelids fluttering closed momentarily - caught in the heady delight of the romantic interlude. A searching tongue; both soft and slightly harder kisses. Momentary abandonment and submission to their entwined arms.
After a few moments the kiss broke apart leaving a thin trail of saliva hanging between them for a second. Her breathing heavy; her chest heaving; her pussy almost uncomfortably moist and now leaking quite copiously into the thin gusset of her panties.
Talking of which, his hand was at their elastic; another kiss to her lips; a grin of his own on his lips.
Her mind made up and after a last quick look around the room to make sure that they weren't being observed, she lifted her bottom imperceptibly from the seat. She used both hands to pull the panties swiftly down her thighs, past her knees and allowed them to drop to the floor where they immediately entangled in her five inch heels.
Intuitively, his hand was there to guide them off completely and save her blushes from a noticeable predicament; balling them quickly into one of his large palms.
Remembering to sit up straight again, aware it thrust her breasts out and showed off her new figure, his face was again millimetres from hers - and once more they were twisting to face each other, kissing; both incredibly lost in the moment.
Her hand was at his thigh, a couple of her fingers searching and finding his expanding flesh through the denim of his dark jeans. His hand first at her naked waist, then taking turns between stroking and cupping a breast, and searching the wetness between her legs.
She moaned and settled back against the seat back rest. She allowed her senses to fill completely by his whim, her coat falling further open, aware that it was only his body offering any screening against inquisitive eyes but trusting him completely.
Their passionate interlude was over all too quickly as the waitress telegraphed her imminent arrival by briefly pausing at another table to collect menus obviously for their perusal.
It gave him time to rewrap her jacket across her chest and a quick check on her decorum before he returned sitting square in the seat and to face the smiling girl as she stepped around the pillars into the booth.
A dessert with two spoons arrived surprisingly swiftly, punctuated with the departure of another two couples, leaving the restaurant room somewhat empty. Another glass of wine each meant that the bottle was running on empty, her glass betraying the quantity consumed and the colour of her lipstick with countless lip marks.
The obviously senior bar staff engaged themselves in a discussion at the far end of the room and the table waitress busied herself cleaning up the recently vacated tables.
Helen looked at him, her long handled spoon touched to the tip of her exposed tongue, lips parted in a come-hither expression that left no misunderstanding as to what she needed. A pronounced lingering sideways stare at his crotch compounded the expectation by implication. Her one breast was exposed by a carelessly drooping right lapel and an indecent amount of thigh still remained visible.
His hand at his fly was swiftly followed by her hand delving into it's revealed depths to extract his manhood - which started to unfurl itself gently in the draft beneath the table. Desperately trying to stay gentle and sensitive, keeping her haste to minimum, she started to stroke the temporarily short length with the back of two fingers, the angle awkward.
