Marlenes Mature Fantasies

Marlene had been on her feet most of the day, filing papers and attending meetings, all the while answering the phone and taking messages for her boss. As the executive assistant for Donald Levinson of the Park/Levinson Law Firm, she was used to the daily hustle and bustle. But, today was Friday and that always seemed to lend itself to an extra measure of last-minute rushing around to end the workweek.

She flopped herself down into her desk chair with a heavy sigh, gratefully taking the load off of her aching feet, and paying absolutely no attention to how her skirt had risen high enough on her thighs to expose the dark, opaque bands of her stockings. At that moment, she could not have cared less. And besides, she reasoned, she was seated in rather modesty behind her desk where no one in the office in front of her might perceive her skirtly indiscretion.

After taking a few moments to relax, reflect, and catch her breath, she glanced up at the clock on the wall. She smiled to see that the clock had finally moved closer to closing time. Some days, and this was certainly one of them, it seemed time would just crawl by. Earlier that very afternoon, she had looked up at the wall clock and noted the time was 2:15 pm. In what seemed like it had to have been at least an hour later, she had again glanced up at the clock to see that it was now 2:25 pm. Thankfully, the time was now 4:45 pm, and her workday, and workweek, were both finally coming to a close.

With nothing more to do in the final fifteen minutes, she leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs. In doing so, she once again felt a very familiar sensual presence between her legs. A sensation that had been with her for most of the day, every time she moved, crossed, or uncrossed her legs, and even as she walked from office to office. A subtle sensation of sensuality that announced its presence with even the slightest nuance of movement. A pleasant tease, a breath of sensuality that had kept her in a mild state of arousal for most of the day. She understood the teasing sensation very well, it was her body's subtle, yet insistent, manner of making her aware of the fact that she had gone much too long without having any kind of sexual contact.

And THAT, she thought with a frown, pressing her lips together firmly with a shake of her head, was entirely the fault of her soon-to-be ex-husband. The vision of Gary fucking his office assistant once again flashed into her conscious thoughts. Even though the incident had happened well over a month ago and had lasted no more than a few seconds, every explicit detail was indelibly burned into her memory and vividly recalled.

The girl, his twenty-something office assistant, that cute little blonde thing. What the hell was her name? Christie? Chrissie? Whatever, she shrugged with a dismissive shake of her head, it mattered not. What MATTERED was how the young woman had been sprawled face down over Gary's desk, her curly blonde hair splayed out over the top of the desk. She was bent over from the waist with her legs spread ever so accommodatingly, her short pleated skirt pulled up and bunched around her waist and her pantyhose pulled down just enough to bare her Lilly-white buttocks. Gary, with his slacks and boxers puddled unceremoniously about his feet, was thrusting into her lustfully, the girl squealing and gasping with each forceful thrust of his hips as their bodies came together with resounding slaps that seemed to echo loudly in the small confines of his office.

She had just stood there frozen in place, gaping in stunned silence for several seconds before quickly coming to her senses and retracing her steps, backing silently from the room, and closing the door quietly behind her. The couple had been so engrossed in their ever so pleasurable activity, neither had noticed her entrance or exit at all.

She barely remembered the drive home, her eyes blurred by her tears. Once she arrived home, however, she had calmly and methodically packed two suitcases with most of the clothing she needed for work and other everyday essentials and, having nowhere else to go, had arrived in tears on Louise's doorstep. God bless her best friend Louise and her husband Ross, who had taken her in without question and afforded her the use of their spare bedroom for as long as she needed.

The very next day, Ross had even put her in touch with a good lawyer and she promptly filed for divorce on the grounds of infidelity. To her complete and utter astonishment, Gary had not only contested the divorce, but he also countersued, claiming extreme mental anguish and abject mortification because of his wife's "lewd and lascivious" behavior in public in front of other men.

He was, of course, referring to the many occasions when she and Gary had attended parties at Louise's house, and the many occasions Ross had coaxed and cajoled her into dancing to "The Stripper".

It had all begun a little over a year ago and had all been in innocent fun. During one of Louise's parties, with at least a dozen other couples present, she had been standing alone looking out the front window of their house momentarily lost in her thoughts with a glass of wine in her hand. And, knowing herself, it was likely her third, or fourth... or tenth glass of wine. She hadn't been drunk, per se, but she had been definitely feeling no pain that evening.

Ross was always in charge of the music, and he took great pride in his music collection and keeping those parties lively with good classic rock music on his sound system. Never too loud, but loud enough to keep everyone's feet tapping or to dance if anyone felt like it, and they often did.

On that particular night, Ross inexplicably put on a recording of "The Stripper" by David Rose and his Orchestra. He was probably trying to be funny, an inside joke to someone at the party, and many people DID laugh. But, when that particular piece of music began to play, she had, without conscious thought, begun to move her body as she had remembered seeing those classic strippers do on television and in the movies, all the while staring absently out the window and sipping her wine. She had unconsciously parted her legs to the extent her tight skirt would allow and moved her hips suggestively, punctuating the musical crescendos with forceful pelvic thrusts, just as she had seen the exotic dancers do.

When the music ended, she turned her attention back toward the party and, to her complete surprise, saw Ross staring at her from across the room with a curious smile on his face. Realizing she had been dancing rather suggestively and that he had been watching her, she felt the hot flush of embarrassment rise to her cheeks and she averted her eyes and turned away from him.

Moments later, he startled her as he suddenly appeared behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Marlene?" he said with a broad smile. "My dear, I think you may have missed your calling. With moves like that, you could have been a world-class exotic dancer."

"Stop it," she had said, fanning her already burning cheeks with her fingers. "It's embarrassing enough to know you saw me doing it without you teasing me about it too. Believe me, I would have never done anything like that if I'd even THOUGHT anyone might be watching me."

Ross laughed softly and shook his head. "Don't be so modest," he said. "You danced wonderfully, and also, I thought, very authentically to that music. I doubt any other woman in the room tonight could have done it anywhere near as well as you. I'm thinking you must have been an exotic dancer in a previous life."

She had been relieved when he was called away moments later and she quickly moved to the sofa to take up her seat beside her husband Gary. She thought about Ross watching her dance so suggestively and, despite her initial embarrassment, had also felt a certain lascivious thrill to have been watched, and even admired. Could this be how real exotic dancers felt? Were they ever thrilled and aroused by all those men leering at them as they danced? Or was it just a job like any other?

She had, for a great many years, often fantasized about what it might be like to actually expose herself provocatively in front of an audience. Not just suggestive gyrations as she had just done, but also teasingly removing her clothing as she moved her body sensually to music and even touching herself to heighten her arousal. Her long-held fantasy of dancing and having an orgasm while people watched was so intense within her, the mere thought would often have her trembling with suppressed excitement.

On the night of Louise's party, she had innocently and unintentionally responded to her age-old fantasy without premeditation or conscious thought, and most certainly without the knowledge that anyone might be watching. Unfortunately, Ross HAD been watching and had another nefarious party scheme in mind.

Almost an hour later, when everyone had quieted down and was seated about the room, in various party discussion groups, Ross got up to change the music. To her complete surprise, he excitedly motioned for her to join him at his sound system. As she joined him in the center of the room, he surprised her by suddenly turning to the guests and making a little announcement. "Hey, everybody...Listen up. You all know Marlene here, but what you may not know about her is that she has a very secret, hidden talent."

With that, the stripper music suddenly filled the room once again. Ross backed away, leaving her standing alone in the middle of the room. He smiled encouragingly, nodding his head, and began clapping his hands rhythmically to the music. She had stood there, transfixed like the proverbial deer in the headlights, completely astonished and mortified as everyone's eyes were suddenly on her.

Her face flushed hotly, and she shook my head at Ross as he continued to clap and then even began to chant her name. She had tried to turn away to resume her seat on the sofa beside Gary, but Ross grasped her arm with a broad smile and shook his head, chanting "Mar-lene...Mar-lene". Moments later the entire room took up a chant.

Mar-LENE, Mar-LENE!" She had laughed self-consciously, and despite her embarrassment, resigned herself to her fate. Fortified by her wine consumption, she had momentarily tossed her inhibitions aside and began to move to the music just as Ross had seen her do.

Peripherally, she had been aware of the entire room silently watching her and had kept her eyes closed or averted. She had intended on appeasing Ross by dancing only a few moments, just to get it over with. But, much to her complete astonishment, she heard the music beginning to fade and realized she had danced the entire length of the piece. Everyone erupted in applause. With her face burning in embarrassment, she covered her face in her hands and hurried back to the sofa, curling next to Gary and burying her face against his chest.

Several minutes later, when the party had once again returned to a semblance of calm normality, she had taken a moment to reflect upon that rather intimate dance that Ross had cajoled her into performing in front of everyone. Once the embarrassment had begun to fade, she discovered, much to her astonishment, how very arousing the experience had been for her to physically realize even a small measure of her deeply rooted and enduring fantasy.

That depth of arousal was startlingly revealed several minutes later when she made a trip to the bathroom to relieve herself and had discovered how her arousal had completely soaked through the crotch of her panties.

Gary had, of course, been the one to reap the sexual benefits of her acute arousal, she had practically raped him as soon as they arrived home that night after the party.

For his part, Ross made sure that her little stripper dance was a permanently recurring feature at their parties. While she still protested vehemently every single time and only grudgingly capitulated when everyone began to clap and chant her name, she had always secretly looked forward to repeating the experience.

She even went so far as to dress for the parties with her dance in mind, making sure to wear tight skirts or dresses that would best show off her figure and her legs, and bras with sheer nylon cups that allowed her breasts to move and sway more naturally beneath her blouses or pullover sweaters.

The male party attendees had always been especially attentive, and it thrilled her beyond measure to be the focus of so much prurient interest and attention. She could almost feel their eyes, like a physical presence, moving over her body as she tilted her pelvis suggestively, or moved her shoulders in such a way so as to cause her breasts to shift provocatively beneath her blouse. She quite shamelessly allowed herself to become extremely aroused right in front of them all, secure and confident in the knowledge that everyone would just naturally assume her highly flushed cheeks and heavy breathing were purely the results of her embarrassment at having to perform.

Her excitement level seems to grow each time she performed at one of Louise's parties. She soon discovered she had to temper the rising need she was feeling, occasionally stopping her dance at the veritable brink of an orgasm and quickly sitting down before such an orgasmic event could suddenly overwhelm her while everyone watched. She would rush to the sofa, to her place beside Gary, while everyone applauded her performance. Occasionally, she would then cross her legs to initiate her orgasm right there on the sofa, all the while sipping her drink and giving no outward appearance that anything so momentous was occurring within her. Not even Gary had ever realized, and she had never ever spoken to him about her fantasy or how much it aroused her to dance at those parties.

To have actually allowed herself to experience an orgasm in public had also opened an entirely new dimension in sensuality for her. After exciting herself to the brink during her dances, she discovered she could very easily bring herself to orgasm afterward just by crossing her legs and squeezing her thighs together. Maintaining a calm outward appearance and disposition even seemed to enhance the excitement and pleasure for her. She found it especially erotic to bring herself to orgasm even while engaged in a conversation with someone who was completely oblivious to what she was doing. It was especially accommodating when a good rock song on the stereo allowed her to move her hips to the beat of the song, to mask the fact that she was, in reality, moving her hips to the rhythmic pulsations of her orgasm.

Afterward, whenever she had occasion to think about how much it thrilled her to have that life-long fantasy physically realized, she often felt she probably owed Ross a rather strong debt of gratitude for providing her with such perfect opportunities to indulge herself in those fantasies under the cloak of an embarrassing party favor for him.

And, as for Gary, he had most certainly gone along with Ross's little party favor and had never once expressed to her any personal embarrassment or showed signs of any mental anguish as his counter lawsuit alleged. Ross and Louise both offered affidavits to the fact that she had done nothing of the kind. But that didn't stop Gary from hiring a private detective to follow her every day in order to find evidence to add to his claims. Once her lawyer understood the facts of the matter, he summarily dismissed Gary's countersuit out of hand, telling her she had nothing to worry about, but also advising her to be on her best behavior because of the private detective.

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"Marlene," said a voice from behind her, startling her from her daydream of her deep-seated fantasies and stripper dancing. She turned in her chair to see Mr. Levinson had approached unnoticed from his office behind her desk and stood relatively near. Seeing how he had startled her, he smiled and apologized.

"I was just wondering if you have completed the corporation agreements for the Andersons?" He smiled.

Marlene nodded, turning to take the file from her outbox and handing it to him. She couldn't help but notice peripherally how his eyes lowered to her legs as she turned her head, something Mr. Levinson often did on a great many occasions, and something that she had always found to be rather endearing. Mr. Levinson was eighty-eight years old, bless his heart. He had a wife of sixty years and four adult children, with at least a dozen grandchildren. So, if it pleased him to look and admire her legs, who was she to deny him or say otherwise? More power to him.

At closing time, she hurried home, thinking that a little dinner and maybe a nice hot soak in the bathtub would be a wonderful prelude to surrendering herself to that physical need that had been growing within her all day and allowing herself a much-needed orgasm.

But her best-laid plans were for naught. She arrived home to find Ross and Louise buoyantly excited about going out to a local lounge to watch their favorite rock band perform. And, much to her dismay, they both insisted she accompany them. She did her best to beg off with all of her usual excuses: long day at work, tired, and not feeling all that well. But still, they persisted, having become all too wise to her litany of lame excuses for staying home, and so she had finally resigned herself to an evening out.

After a quick dinner, they were in such a hurry to get out the door, she wasn't even afforded an opportunity to shower or change clothes. It was well that her work skirt and blouse were sufficiently dressy for any lounge or bar. Once they had arrived and found a suitable table near the band, and after a drink or two, she had even begun to relax and enjoy herself despite her earlier reluctance. The band was exceptionally good, and she could readily see why Ross and Louise had become so enamored with their music. She even allowed Ross to pull her out of her chair and onto the dancefloor on several occasions.

Moving her hips to the music while on the dancefloor even managed to keep her earlier arousal simmering. The sensual pull of her garters on the tops of her stockings as well as the little shifting movements of her panties against her labia seemed to blend together to create a large erogenous zone from her knees to the top of her hips. And, as it often happened whenever she was doing her little stripper dance at the parties, she felt as though she could almost have an orgasm right out on the dancefloor simply by moving her hips to the music.

By the time they left the lounge to go home, she was almost frantic in her need for release. Walking to Ross's car in the parking lot, she had that very familiar sense that she had completely soaked through the crotch of her panties once again.

Hoping she might possibly sneak a quick orgasm on the way home, she sat in the back directly behind Ross, who was the designated driver. Too late she realized there wasn't enough room behind the driver's seat for her to comfortably cross her legs. If she could only slip her hand beneath her skirt for just a few short moments...Louise, however, kept up a lively banter, constantly turning toward her to include her in the conversation. With a sigh of resignation, Marlene realized she would have to keep her hands to herself and wait a little longer.

Several minutes later they turned onto their street and were almost home. "Don't look now," said Ross as he looked up into the rearview mirror. "But I think your private detective has been following us home from the lounge."

As Ross pulled into the driveway, she looked out the window to see the familiar Ford Mustang convertible owned by the man Gary had hired to surveil her every movement, pulling to the curb beside their house.