The original (part 1) of Party, Party, Party was originally intended as a short stand-alone story. Then having created the characters I decided to see how I could develop the story. Inevitably this assumes that the reader is familiar with ch.1 and there are references which hopefully will make sense at the end.
Derek, her husband always fell asleep when she stroked his testicles.
It didn't take long after sex, otherwise it took longer. He found it very soothing and was unconscious within five minutes on that night.
Michelle enjoyed the power that this simple act gave her over him; she liked the feel of him in her hands β warm, smooth, vulnerable.
Tonight she wanted some time to think, run over events in her mind. She had exposed herself shamelessly to his workmates and become falling-down drunk. She had intended most of this; albeit to a lesser extent - but what she had done had gone beyond all decent boundaries. She cringed at the thought that people had seen her privates. What had she been thinking?
Judging by the thorough rogering that she had received, Derek was not unduly angry. She had had a burst of hormones during the evening β and had awoken him twice during the night to retake her pleasure, which may have improved his mood. Now in the morning she felt sore but satisfyingly well-fucked.
Now she was buoyant and ready for the world and he was exhausted.
Her plan had been to put an end to those awful house-parties and it was likely that she had failed dismally in this endeavour. Not only had Derek not been terminally embarrassed but she had ended up enjoying herself. Not to put a fine point on things it had been a complete reversal, now it was a matter of waiting to see what Derek would say about these events.
Indeed several weeks passed before Derek mentioned the subject of parties and when he did it was to propose another one.
* * *
"Mike and Louise are going to a party next weekend, they're asking if we can join them; how are you fixed?"
A heavy weight descended on her heart for a minute, she had no intention of repeating the performance. "I'm not really sure."
"It'll be fun. They really enjoyed the last one, they said that they loved that you came out of your shell and joined in instead of hovering at the side. Come on - you seemed to enjoy it as well."
"Don't worry, I won't be doing that again."
He looked disappointed, "That'll be a shame, they thought it was brilliant fun. Anyway, it's not at their place, it's being hosted by some friends of theirs. Apparently they've got a massive house with a pool and everything. You should see their yacht. A regular gin-palace; and they have a sail-boat as well, just for swanning around on the weekend.
"They hold regular events with loads of people there. Mike reckons that we'll really fit in. It'll just be us and them, not the others from work."
He continued, "He said it's a real no-expense spared night, plenty of champagne and top quality food and entertainment."
"I haven't got a thing to wear."
* * *
She needed to go shopping for clothes again. She couldn't wear the same thing twice, especially the single-shouldered dress with the thin strap that hadn't even lasted the evening, so something else was called for. Something sexy, something eye-catching, something stronger. She realised now that the outfits that she had worn over the years were boring and matronly. They made her look old, boring and matronly.
The dress code for this party was apparently 'dress to stun'; white-tie suits for the men and cocktail dresses. Obviously none of her old outfits would suffice.
At the mall Michelle examined dresses with a different eye. She looked for short mini-dresses to give her more height; dresses with deep side slashes; tops with side-boob exposure. Maybe underwear-as-outerwear, she thought; suggesting more than showing.
In the end she chose a tight yellow dress with a deep scoop cleavage. It was short but not too short, so that this time she would be able to sit without flashing as if she was in an internet porno clip. However the material was clinging and semi-sheer, so she searched for suitable underwear. A flesh-coloured thong was easy enough to find, but a good bra was more difficult.
The dress was cut low in the back with straps holding it in place deceptively securely. This meant that a bra would be on full view no matter what the design was. She wasn't into the rather common, down-market bra-on-view look and thought that transparent straps were plain ugly. In the end she decided that as before, going braless was the only answer. Black heels again, standard fare which she already owned that would go with the bright yellow.
Michelle tried on the ensemble to check. However whenever she bent down, the back of the thong became visible giving her a nasty whale-tail. She hitched up the front and found that the tiny scrap of a garment had also separated her labia, giving her a camel-toe. Not an attractive look should anyone ever see.
Back in the lingerie section, she found an alternative which she would never have thought of if it hadn't been modelled on a mannequin.
A bright red pair of panties, to be seen straight through the dress β and over, if she leaned. Not a vulgar string, but a properly tailored T-back, snug on her hips and fitting her form. Not invisible, hiding in the shadows but brazen and screaming their presence. Not so much a bra-on-view as knickers-on-view.
Black stockings and a matching pair of red high heeled shoes transformed the look. Not as crippling as the black pair that she had worn to the first party, these were capable of being used. She liked the originality of this. Whilst other women matched shoes to handbag or dress, she matched her shoes to her knickers.
Her substantial breasts were of course visible through the thin material. She sighed, how was any woman supposed to wear this in polite company? Luckily she had a fine pair of boobs, too large really for her slender frame.