Copyright Oggbashan March 2017
The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.
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"The other one is my mantrap dress," Anna said.
"Mantrap?" I queried.
"Yes. Mantrap. You like it when I'm wearing it, don't you John?"
"Yes, Anna."
"Why?"
"It fits you perfectly and emphasises," I pointed, "your considerable assets."
Anna hefted her large breasts I love so much. In that dress I could tell when her nipples were erect. They were.
"They are considerable, aren't they? But this short dress and the longer one mean I have to choose the bra I wear very carefully. Any seams or fasteners would show, as would panties. I always go commando when wearing these dresses or I'd have a VPL."
"VPL? What's that?"
Anna laughed at me.
"Visible Panty Line you fashion ignoramus! If I wore panties the line would show through these dresses. So I don't wear panties unless I'm wearing a hoop underneath."
Anna's two dresses were made of a very fine grey jersey. They had long sleeves that were skin-tight over her arms. The bodice had a round scoop neck that Anna could adjust to show a little cleavage.
There was a seam below her bust. The inner dress was skin-tight and clingy. It was the rest of the dress that was unusual. From the bodice seam the skirt fell in a smooth draped line but had no lower hem. The skirt end was just a fold in the material. At the sides there were openings that moved as Anna did. Apart from zips either side, usually open, it seemed as if the front and back of the dress formed two tunnels, one in front and one at the back.
The design mimicked a medieval style that had side openings over a fitted inner dress. Priests had condemned the fashion as providing 'gateways to hell and damnation' because the woman's shape was visible through the openings. I could appreciate why the priests had been concerned. Glimpses through the sides of Anna's dresses showed her trim waist. Even her shape of her navel showed against the tight inner dress.
Both of Anna's dresses seemed adjustable. However she wore them, they clung to her like a second skin. I could see her legs move inside as she walked. Her stride seemed unrestricted but the dresses were always tight around her except in a wind. A wind could cause them to flap like washing on a line or inflate like balloons.
She could wear the short dress with the skirt just above or below her knee. The drapes of the longer Mantrap dress went right down to the ankles even if the inner dress stopped above her knees.
Sometimes she would wear one of a variety of small diameter hooped petticoats underneath her skirt. She could wear the short dress for Rock and Roll apparently with a fully puffed out knee length skirt, or the full length one as a ball gown. She needed to wear high platform shoes if she wasn't using a hoop.
Tonight she was wearing the short one as a little grey dress ending just above her knees. It wouldn't take much for me to insert a hand and reach her naked pussy. Anna saw me looking.
"No you don't," she said mockingly. "You don't get inside either dress. If you do with the long one? You're not coming out."
I didn't understand what she meant except that I had better keep my hands to myself tonight.
Holding and cuddling her outside the dress was nearly as arousing. The material seemed so smooth and clingy that my hands felt as if I was touching Anna's bare skin. If I could put a hand through the slit to touch the inner dress? That would be like touching a naked Anna.
+++
Anna had been my girlfriend for less than a year. Whether I chose her or she decided to appropriate me? I think I was her choice and she had made sure I wasn't going to escape. Ten minutes before I had just been dumped by one of her acquaintances. I was sitting, newly alone, in our local coffee shop when Anna sat down beside me.
"Want to talk, John?" she had said. "Sheila's gone."
"She has," I said sadly. "Really gone. Out of my life."
"She asked me to be here when she..."
"Dumped me?" I retorted.
"Told you it was over," Anna corrected. "She liked you but it wasn't working, was it? You knew that."
"Yes, Anna, I did but..."
"You liked Sheila. She liked you. But there was no spark between you, was there? You live different lives. Hers is athletics at a serious level. That meant nothing to you."
I pointed to my leg, then still in plaster after my car had been hit by a drunk driver.
"That didn't help. It will heal. Even before that I was no athlete."
"But Sheila liked you enough to try the relationship for a couple of months and cared enough to ask me to be here after she left."
"I know she cared, Anna. I thought I loved her..."
"...but you didn't, John, not really. You liked her. She is spectacular and attracts too many men who see what she looks like and not who she is. You liked Sheila as a person. She liked you for that. But her passion is athletics. You tried to understand but eventually it was obvious her life and yours were incompatible."
"And yours is?" I asked bitterly.
"You don't know. I don't know. We are part of the same group of friends but don't really know each other, John. I'm here because Sheila asked me to be here. All she wanted was that you should not be alone when she left you."
Anna's hand reached out to take mine. She squeezed it gently. I looked at the joined hands. It was a friendly gesture. I could feel tears close to my eyes, not for losing Sheila, but for her thoughtfulness in sending Anna. Sheila was a great person and I had lost her. No. I hadn't. I had never had her. We had been living parallel lives. We had tried to touch but couldn't.
I squeezed Anna's hand.
"Like another coffee?" I asked.
"No. But I'd like to talk. But for your leg I'd suggest a walk together."