Heidi 03 A Messy Evening

HEIDI - 3

A MESSY EVENING

Heidi put her fork down on the bar top beside her empty plate. The problem with bar snacks was they always left you feeling you could eat a little more, which wasn't good if you were trying to watch your weight. She wiped her mouth. Maybe she'd have another glass of wine instead, or maybe just go back upstairs to her room and find a film to watch.

As she pondered what to do, the outside door opened and in walked a silver haired man wearing a plaid waistcoat. He wasn't wearing his glasses but she recognised him straight away from the secondhand shop where she bought the old dress.

Simon

, or so she'd been told by Judy, the lady from the underwear shop. She smiled to herself, it wasn't only for work that an ability to remember names and faces was useful.

She made eye contact with him as he approached the bar. "Good evening, Simon. How nice to see you again."

He smiled. "Ah... um... yes. Nice to see you too." He scratched his chin. "I'm not sure I know your name... but I do remember you. You came to my shop a couple of days ago."

"Yes, I did." She grinned. "And you're right, you don't know my name... my name's Heidi." She looked at her room key lying on the bar. "My conference is finished and I

was

planning to go home this afternoon, but it's a long way to drive when you're exhausted so I decided to stay over an extra night instead."

He nodded. "Sometimes I treat myself to a bite to eat here in the evening, it beats being at home alone." He glanced at the bar where her empty plate rested. "It looks as if I'm too late to eat with you, but would you let me buy you a drink?"

She opened her mouth to answer, but thoughts tumbled over themselves in her head and no words would come out. She closed her eyes. She'd just heard him say

at home alone

which was one thing; but something he'd said back in the shop was circling around in her brain. She opened her eyes again.

Simon looked at her, his brows knitted together. "Heidi, are you okay?"

"Yes. Um...," she pulled at her lip, "Simon, I need to ask you something. Put something straight in my head."

He nodded. "Yes, of course."

"Back in the shop. You knew I was interested in the dress, and you made a comment about me wearing it."

"Um, yes...," he swallowed, "I really didn't mean to cause offence. It may have been quite inappropriate. I'm so sorry..."

"Simon...," she touched his arm, "Simon, never mind about

inappropriate

, what was it you said?"

"I said...," he licked his lips, "I said you'd look absolutely

stunning

in that dress." He lowered his head, but held eye contact with her. "And I meant every word of it."

She took a deep breath. "Simon, I'm not going to sit here and watch you eat, but I wonder if you'd make me a promise?"

His eyebrows shot up. "Um..."

"Would you promise you'll wait here for me? Even if I'm not back by the time you've finished your meal?" She chewed her lip. "Would you do that for me?"

"Yes. Um... yes of course." His eyes widened. "Where are you going?"

She picked up her room key and stood up off the stool. She smiled, kissed her fingertips and touched them to his lips. Then, without another word, she turned and walked away without a single backward glance.

As soon as she got to her room she slammed the door shut and leaned back against it to catch her breath. Her heart was pounding, and there was warmth in her groin. She closed her eyes and took several long deep breaths. As her body regained equilibrium a huge grin spread itself onto her face, but there was no time to lose.

She stepped out of her shoes, pulled the big clip off the back of her head to shake her hair loose onto her shoulders, and peeled off all her clothes.

It was transformation time.

With bated breath she opened the decorative bag from

Judy's Intimates

and slid the contents out onto the bed. Out of its box came the exquisitely embroidered red silk basque to hug her closely; the delicate silk stockings to caress her legs; and finally the matching red silk knickers smoothed into place to complete the ensemble.

She looked across the room at her reflection in the long mirror. Butterflies circled in her belly as she turned from side to side. There, encased in red silk, was a picture of femininity the like of which she was unaccustomed to seeing. What looked back at her from the mirror was a sophisticated creature with well-rounded breasts and impressive cleavage, a shapely waist, broad curvy hips, and elegantly long legs.

On dreamy tiptoes she went to the wardrobe and lifted out

the dress

. She held her breath as she stepped in, lifted it over her bum and zipped up enough to rest the weight of the massive skirts on her hips. She slipped her arms into those off-the-shoulder lace sleeves, and breathed in hard to get the oh-so-tight bodice zipped all the way up.

Finally she stepped up into the bright red sparkly shoes Judy had found her, and considered the final result in the mirror. The profusion of red and white embroidered flowers tumbling over the bodice and over her hips onto the skirt was somehow especially breathtaking tonight. A tingle ran down her spine into her groin. There, without any shadow of doubt, stood a fairytale princess in her ball gown.

On the ground floor the lift doors opened onto the hotel reception area, but there were no guests about. Heidi swooshed majestically along the hallway, the skirts rustling with each swing of her hips. At the door of the bar she stopped and looked down. Her cleavage was impressive, and the tightly nipped waist gave her a superb hourglass figure... but there was something else too. Behind the exquisite embroidery the seams of the bodice were clearly showing signs of strain and the tightly stretched stitching threatened to burst apart if she was careless. Tonight might be the one and only opportunity she had to wear this dress. She took a deep breath, stepped into the doorway of the bar, and stood tall.

The room fell silent. There were one or two gasps. On any other occasion she might have played to her audience, but tonight Heidi had eyes for only one person.

Simon was sitting at the bar, an empty plate in front of him. As he turned to look at her his eyes blinked wide and his mouth fell open. His eyes fixed on her face, he stood and came dreamily towards her. As he came within reach he took both her hands in his. "Heidi," he said, "you are absolutely

beautiful."

Time stood still as she held his hands and swam in his warm hazel eyes. "This may be a wear-once-only dress... I wanted to share it with you." She pulled her bottom lip through her teeth. "Can we go somewhere?"

"Yes, of course." He frowned. "English seaside towns are quite dead in winter... but it's a clear evening, and the wind's died down." He looked at Heidi and smiled. "We could walk along the promenade and see if the moon's out?"

"Perfect". She slipped her arm through his. "Let's go."

The starry sky over the dark sea was like black velvet encrusted with a myriad of tiny diamonds, and the full moon close to the far horizon shone a silver path across the water.

Heidi couldn't walk briskly in her sparkly red heels, and constricted by the tight bodice of her dress she couldn't take much of a breath. But on Simon's arm, and with his coat around her shoulders for warmth, ambling along the promenade provided a pleasant breath of fresh air at the end of a week of intense work. She stopped and leaned on the railing to look out over the sea towards the moon, and cast her eyes down to the widening strip of beach left smooth and glistening by the receding tide.

She turned to Simon. "Can we walk on the beach?"

He smiled at her. "Yes, of course, if that's what you'd like." He looked along the promende. "There's some steps just along here."

Holding tightly to his arm she tottered down the slippery steps, but when she placed her first foot on the beach itself the stiletto heel of her shoe sank immediately into the sand.

Simon held her arm to steady her. "Ah... maybe not the beach then?"

Undeterred, she stepped out of the sunken shoe, and kicked the other one off, to walk in her stockinged feet on the sand. She didn't notice Simon stop and pick up her shoes, until he called out from behind her.

"Heidi! You'll ruin your dress!"

She stopped, turned to face him, and walked back to where he stood.

"I'm so sorry," he said, "I didn't mean to shout, but look...". He pointed at the hem of the dress, already wet from the beach. "You're getting it all messed up!"

Silently she took his free hand and holding it, ran his fingers all the way down one of the front bodice seams - starting at the neck, running down the side of her left breast and onto her hip bone - where she held the flat of his palm close against her. "You probably can't see in the moonlight... but it's already pulling apart." She looked deep into his eyes. "It's the most beautiful dress I've ever worn, but it's also forty years old and I'm a tight squeeze inside it."

His voice was a whisper. "You mean it's coming to pieces?"

She nodded. "I'm afraid it won't last long."

"I'm so sorry... I had no idea... I should never have sold it to you..."

She put her finger to his lips. "On the contrary. It's a wedding dress... they're only designed to be worn once. I'm guessing this is its second outing, so it's already on borrowed time." Her eyes twinkled in the moonlight. "It would be a crying shame to shut it away in a wardrobe for ever - it needs to be worn and enjoyed."

He swallowed. "Well you're certainly giving it a fantastic wearing..."

She took his hand away from her hip and tugged his arm. "Come and help me enjoy wearing it. I think it's already past wearing again. It really doesn't matter if it gets ruined."

She held his hand, and skipped along the moonlit beach like a child, in her stockinged feet, kicking up the sand and splashing in pools left behind by the receding tide. At the top of the steps up off the beach, under the lights of the promenade, it was plain to see her stockings were ripped to shreds and her feet filthy - but she stuffed them back into her sparkly red heels anyway.

At a burger van on the promenade they ordered a hot dog each, and whilst it was being served up she picked up a big yellow squeezy bottle of mustard. She waited until Simon was watching her, upended the bottle, and dribbled mustard onto the centre front of the bodice over her breasts.

Simon gasped. "What are you doing? You'll...," he caught sight of her big grin and stopped mid-sentence. His eyes narrowed for a moment, then a grin came to his face to match hers. "Are you going to..."

She nodded. "Am I

very

naughty?"

"Yes," he said, "you're very naughty indeed." He wrinkled his nose. "And so am I... because I'm rather enjoying it."

They ambled along under the lights, eating. Heidi finished first and looked at her greasy fingers. On any other night she might have licked them, but tonight she rubbed them on her hips instead, leaving oily marks on the ivory silk of her skirts.

She looked up at Simon. He stopped still, with his last mouthful of hot dog in his hand. She smiled and locked eyes with him. Holding eye contact, she took hold of his hand, and squished the last remnants of his food into her bodice, rubbing it purposefully into the silk over her breasts. With her chest so tightly held in the bodice, her messy breasts rose and fell with each breath.

He stroked his chin. "Well that's all the food gone...," he looked her up and down, "... what should we do next?"

She chewed her lip. "I

had

wondered what sort of occasion would be appropriate for this outfit." A foolish grin crept onto her face. "Now I know... but we need more ammunition. Is there a food shop somewhere nearby?"

"Yes, there's a mini-market just a few minutes walk from here," he pursed his lips, "... and my place is not much further."

"Sounds like a plan." She wriggled her toes. Sand in her shoes had been rubbing them. "I'm not sure I can wear these shoes any more though." She stepped out of the shoes and looked at them. They were stained and scratched from the beach, and the lining was tattered by the abrasion of the sand on her feet. She looked around and spotted a litter bin close at hand. "Perfect," she said and dropped the shoes in.

The pavement was cold on her bare feet, and the tattered remnants of her stockings didn't help much, but her feet felt free and unencumbered. She skipped along beside Simon until the tight embrace of the bodice stopped her taking enough breath and she arrived at the mini-market panting.

Under the unforgiving fluorescent glare of the shop lights, the dishevelled state of her outfit was abundantly clear. The lower part of her skirts were wet, and splashes of water had reached above her knees. The bottom few inches were stained and dirty from the sand, and the hem had abraded away in some places leaving a tattered edge with trailing theads. She lifted the skirts a little to look at her feet, which were filthy black. Her once pristine silk stockings no longer covered her feet, but ended in a ragged edge at her ankles.

She put her skirts down and looked down at her bodice. The seams had pulled apart sufficiently to show glimpses of red from the basque underneath, and of course the mustard dribbling and the greasy remains of Simon's hot dog was squished into the embroidery in the centre front... which complemented the greasy finger-wiping marks on her hips. She took as deep a breath as the bodice would allow and without lifting her head, looked up at Simon from under her eyelashes.

Simon raised his eyebrows. "It's looking a bit different now from when you made your dramatic entrance." He licked his lips. "What do you want to do next?"

She pursed her lips. "I think we need more colours," she said, "maybe yellow, or green?"

He nodded. "There's cartons of custard here," he looked around, "and big tins of baked beans if you wanted orange... oh, and mushy peas."

"That's good, let's get several of each," she said, as she picked up a box of eggs and a squirty bottle of chocolate sauce. Beside the checkout was a shelf of cut-price bakery goods, including a pair of fresh cream chocolate eclairs. She picked them up too.

Simon hadn't lied about his place being only a few minutes walk from the shop. He led her from the pavement outside the shop through a side passageway into a small yard, unlocked a door, and reached in to switch on a light.

Heidi stepped in and looked around. It was a sizeable room with a roller shutter door opening onto the yard, and stacked high with all sorts of old furniture and boxes. A staircase led up from one side, and at the foot of the stairs was an old divan double bed with a dust sheet over it.

Simon swallowed. "I'm afraid it's not very grand. This is the store room for my shop - rather like Aladdin's cave I always think. My flat's up the stairs, perhaps you'd like to come up?"

She sat on the edge of the old bed. "I'm thinking I might be better staying here... I don't want to make a mess in your home."

He frowned. "This old bed is waiting to go to the dump. I can't bring you home as a guest and leave you down here."

"Actually this might be the perfect place." She touched his arm. "Is there somewhere you can put the shopping?"

He opened a dusty roll-top writing desk standing nearby and rested the shopping bag on the shelf inside. "Well can I at least offer you a drink? I could make coffee... or I've got a passable bottle of brandy if you fancy something a little stronger?"

"Brandy sounds perfect." She scratched her bottom lip. "We're going to need a tin opener, and a sharp kitchen knife too, if you've got one."

He nodded. "Yes, of course."

She looked around her. "While you're getting those things, I'm just going to sort myself out. Don't hurry back just for a moment."

He nodded. "I'll call out before I come back down." And disappeared up the stairs.

She watched his retreating back as he climbed the stairs, and then stood up off the bed. She unpacked the shopping bag and stood the cartons and tins in a row along the shelf. There was plenty of custard; baked beans and mushy peas; a box of six eggs; a bottle of chocolate sauce; and, of course, the two chocolate eclairs in their box. She held the eclair box in her hand and looked at the two long slim pastries inside. Choux pastry, filled with fresh cream and topped with chocolate fondant.

With a smile she opened the box and took out one of the eclairs. She glanced up the stairs to make sure she was alone, then crouched and gathered up the skirts of the dress. Her embroidered red silk knickers were already wet with her excitement, and as she eased them down the scent of her arousal was quite discernible. She laid the eclair, chocolate side upwards, in the gusset of her knickers and eased them back into place. Finally, she ran her fingers over the gusset from back to front with just enough pressure to push the eclair into the mouth of her yawning fanny, and squeeze out a little cream to soak into the silk. With a final glance up the stairs she stood up and dropped her skirts back into place.

Now standing, she rocked her hips from side to side to squeeze the creamy eclair between the tops of her thighs and enjoy its coolness. Then she clambered onto the bed and sat herself cross-legged with her knees akimbo, like a child at a school assembly, with her back to the wall. Finally, she arranged the skirts of the dress over her splayed knees and in a fan shape over the bed around her and drew a long slow breath to calm her racing heart.

"Can I come down?" Simon's voice called from above.

"Yes, I'm all ready!"

He came steadily down the stairs carrying a silver tray with a cut glass decanter and two brandy glasses. He set the tray down, poured an inch or so of amber liquid into each glass and handed her one of them. His eyes shifted into soft focus. "I think perhaps we should drink a little toast."

She swirled the liquid in her glass and watched the legs of the strong alcohol running down the inside. "Yes." She looked around the room at all the stacked ephemera, and then down at the elaborate dress fanned out around her. "I propose a toast... to all manner of interesting old things... and the enjoyment they give us."

He smiled and nodded. "Absolutely. All manner of old things and enjoyment of them." They

clinked

glasses, and drank the toast.

"Now then," she said, "am I to understand this bed I'm sitting on is

literally

a piece of rubbish waiting to be thrown away?"

"Yes," he nodded, "I'm afraid so. It came with a mixed lot from a house clearance, but nobody buys old divan beds. It's quite serviceable, but completely worthless."

A tingle ran right through her. "Right then," she licked her lips, "I think the bright green of those mushy peas would complement the shaded green leaves embroidered on this bodice... don't you?"

He opened a tin and held it out to her.

She shook her head. "You do it." She smiled. "Tip it over my boobs and rub it in!"

A flush rose up his neck, but he duly knelt on the bed in front of her and tipped the tin down the front of the bodice. His eyes widened as the bright green mass trickled through the embroidery.

Her heart pounded. "And rub it in..." she whispered.

He moved his hands towards her, but hesitated.

She cupped his hands in hers. "Simon, this is all new to me too... but I think it might be quite pretty, and I'd

really

like you to be part of it with me."

He swallowed and looked her deep in the eyes. "I haven't put my hands on a woman's body for almost seven years... not since my wife left me."

She placed his hands on her boobs and gave them a gentle squeeze. "I don't suppose for a minute you've forgotten what to do... and I promise I won't bite."