A Good Girl Goes Bad

'So when are the two of you going to get married?' Shirley asked. I sighed and grit my teeth. Colin's parents could be really hard work sometimes.

'Oh, I don't know,' I said looking up at the ceiling. There was a faint crack in the paintwork that caught my eye. 'Probably when Colin gets around to asking me I suppose.'

There was a tone of resignation about the way I said this. Almost as soon as the words had left my lips I found myself wondering if I'd meant what I just said. I'd made it sound like I had no say in the matter. Perhaps I'd already begun to assume I was destined to be a Mrs Thompson and given up on any alternative. In any case, it wasn't as if this was a bad thing. Colin was a decent sort of guy.

Anyway, I'd gone into the kitchen hoping to find some respite from this kind of comment. Only moments earlier Aunt Camellia asked me the very same question in front of pretty much the entire family. I'd tried to sidestep the issue in rather clumsy fashion and then excused myself from the living room before anyone followed up with more pressing enquiries. However, there was no reprieve to be found in the kitchen. Colin's Mum, Shirley, had been ready to ambush me.

'You two are such a wonderful couple, you know,' she simpered. 'Colin's just so lucky to have a girl like you.' I felt nauseated.

All evening I'd been getting this sort of thing and it was beginning to wear thin with me. You might think I should have appreciated how everyone was commenting on what a good match I was for Colin. You might think I ought to have found it heartening that these people thought of our matrimony as a certain event. Well, I can tell you right now that it nothing of the sort. I wished these people would stop poking their noses in. They didn't know me. Not really. Apart from Colin's parents I was meeting most of these folk for the first time.

I grabbed a glass from the overhead cabinet and went to the sink and turned on the tap and poured myself a drink of water. Shirley sidled over to me. As usual she had put on far too much perfume. The scent of it was overpowering.

'You know, it really is very good of you to have come along this evening,' she said, 'what with Colin being unavailable and everything.' I brought the glass to my lips and drank thirstily. 'It means a lot to Simon and me.' Shirley was looking at me indulgently. I gave her a quick smile and took another gulp of water. I could feel her beaming face burning a hole in the side of my head.

'Do you mind if I open the window a fraction?' I asked.

Shirley didn't mind so I turned and stretched over the sink and pulled the window open a little way. The cool breeze coming in fell pleasantly across my face. I looked out on the darkening evening.

From the very moment Colin got the call from his boss that morning I knew I was going to be in for a painful few hours. Apparently someone had got sick at work and Colin was needed to provide cover for the late shift. And of course that meant I would be going to the anniversary party alone.

They'd been married for thirty years, Simon and Shirley. It was quite impressive really. I wondered what I'd be like at my thirtieth wedding anniversary and hoped to death I wouldn't end up like Shirley - the dutiful and attentive wife, seemingly incapable of independent thought, overweight, badly dressed and wearing too much perfume.

It's true I'd spent plenty of time with Colin's parents before but rarely without Colin nearby to provide cover. He was very much a Mummy's boy. It could be useful when I needed to create some space between Shirley and myself to throw him in the firing line.

'It's nice this, isn't it?' she said.

'Sure.'

'A chance for me and you to have a little chat away from all the others.'

'Mm,' I mumbled.

Shirley sighed and patted my arm. 'Simon and I were so happy when Colin introduced you to us,' she said confidentially. 'We knew from the start that he was on to a winner.' I could feel my cheeks getting red. 'We really can't wait for the good news, you know. It's going to be so lovely when it happens.'

I didn't need to ask what 'it' was.

I don't know if you can understand how this sort of comment was making me feel. And it wasn't only Shirley and Aunt Camellia - this kind of thing had been going on all freakin' night. What right did these people have to assume how things would turn out with Colin and me? For all they knew I might not want to get married. Maybe I wasn't the type. And even if that's what they thought they should have been polite enough to keep their stupid opinions to themselves.

Trying hard not to let my anger show, I gave Shirley a somewhat pained smile. I knew she was only trying to be kind but I mean come on - give a girl a break.

I guess it was partly just bad timing. The night before all this happened I'd gone for drinks with Sammy, one of my best friends. Sammy is such a cool girl. She's completely carefree, or so it seems to me. With Sammy it's as if life's all about having fun and nothing else matters. I guess she and I are quite different in that regard but we get along nonetheless. Compared with Sammy's free-spirited approach to life I guess that I've tended to be much more reserved in the past - always thinking about my responsibilities and what's the right thing to do. Sometimes I get annoyed at myself for it. Sometimes I just think I'm maybe a bit too damn sensible. But I can't help myself. It's just how I am and I don't think I'm going to change any time soon. Then again, I guess I could learn something from a girl like Sammy - you know, let my hair down a little bit from time to time.

Sammy had been telling me how she was considering trying a threesome with this guy she occasionally slept with and a female friend of his. I mean, don't get me wrong, I have no interest in having a threeway. It all sounds far too complicated and messy for my liking. But hearing Sammy talk about it got me thinking. She made it sound like having a threesome would be the easiest thing in the world to try. I guess it just made me feel like my life had become pretty boring. There was she opening up her life to an exciting new experience and I, at the age of just 23, was tied down for good it would seem. It's not as if I'd even had many sexual experiences before I met Colin. And it wasn't likely I'd have particularly adventurous sex with Colin either.

Now Colin's a lovely man. He really is and I love him to bits but he can be a bit routine in the sex department. It's all very methodical. I'm not saying that sex with Colin can't be pleasurable, but sometimes a girl craves a little bit of excitement or maybe just something different once in a while. Often all I'm looking for is a bit of raw passion. Honestly, I think that if Colin had any idea about half the kinks and sexual fantasies that are in my head it would scare him half to death, poor man. Best to keep them locked away nice and safe.

'What are you thinking?' Shirley's voice brought me back to reality.

'Oh, nothing,' I said.

If she had any idea of what was passing through my mind just then it would have scared the poor woman half to death. I almost chuckled to myself at the idea. Wouldn't life be curious if we could see inside each other's minds? In fact no, scrap that. I'm pretty sure it would be unbearable.

'So when do you think we'll be hearing the exciting news?'

There was no giving up with Shirley. I shrugged noncommittally.

'Of course, he'll have to speak to your parents first to ask permission. It's only right and proper.'

'Look, we've only been together about 18 months,' I said, trying to de-escalate some of Shirley's expectations. 'It's probably a bit too soon to be thinking about this sort of stuff.'

'Nonsense dear!' Shirley cried. 'Simon and I got engaged after a year of courtship. We were married within a couple of months. It doesn't have to take so long as all that.'

'I guess so. But maybe it's different with us,' I said. Shirley wasn't listening though. She carried on in her sing-song voice.

'I don't know why young people are like it these days. Everyone seems to take an age over marriage nowadays. Courtship goes on forever. Engagements last years and years. It doesn't make any sense to me.' She breathed heavily, shaking her head. 'Still I suppose it's not my business really.' She was clearly trying to be magnanimous over the situation (but failing miserably).

I sighed and rubbed the back of my neck. I needed to get outside. It was becoming far too stuffy in the house. Shirley turned and caught my eye. There was a conspiratorial look about her.

'In any case, I have a sneaky suspicion it won't be so long before we'll be hearing wedding bells for the two of you,' she said.

Her confidential tone made me wonder if Colin had spoken to his mother about getting married to me. I hoped not. It was a horrifying thought. But why should all the family seemed to have got it into their heads?

In the end I felt as if I had to say something vague on the subject simply to get Shirley to let up.

'Perhaps,' I muttered.

And almost as soon as I'd said that word I regretted it. After all, why shouldn't I be allowed to keep my love life private? Why should the likes of Shirley, Aunt Camelia and others feel entitled to an insight into all of this? It was up to Colin and me whether we got married or not and nobody else needed to stick their two pennies in as far as I was concerned. In fact it was up to him to ask me and then it was up to me to decide how I responded.

It was all up to me. Maybe I would stick two fingers into him and say 'sorry Colin, it's just not quite how I'd planned things to go.' But I doubted it. I mean who on earth gets married at 23 nowadays? Me, it would seem.

'I'm going outside to get some fresh air,' I said and that is indeed what I did.

Colin's parents have a very grand house with a beautiful large garden and it was a gorgeous evening outdoors. In fact I could hardly believe there was no-one else outside enjoying it. But it suited me to be alone for a while.

The cool air was wonderful. I put my glass down on the floor and let out a big breath, relieved to get away from all the hassle for a few moments. I stretched my arms up high and arched my back, enjoying the feel of my black dress as it drew taut over my body.

Just then I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. It turned out I wasn't alone outside. There was a man looking at me. I glanced over and saw that he had a smirk on his face. He was a big black man. I'd noticed him earlier that evening and had been completely taken aback. I really didn't think Simon and Shirley had any non-white friends. Later I'd found out he was some kind of work colleague of Simon's. I must say that it was an effort to stop myself gaping at him all evening (you see I have a bit of a soft spot for big muscular black men).

He was a very tall man and he stood propped up against the wall of the house just along from the kitchen window. I placed him at about 29 or 30 years old. I could tell from the way he was looking at me that he'd obviously liked what he'd seen. It was written all over his cheeky smile and flirtatious eyes. I looked down at myself. Well, I had to say the dress was good on me. I straightened out my hair and turned and said 'hi'.

He returned my greeting from where he was. He'd hit the smart-casual nail on the head with his choice of clothing. Blue jeans were used to dress down a smart white shirt. I saw his eyes wandering up and down my figure. They seemed to take in my bare feet and bare legs and the shape of my dress.

Now, as any girl will tell you, clothes are very important. So let a bit about the dress I was wearing. Now is as good a time as any.

It was a little black number. Every girl needs to have a little black dress in her wardrobe - the one she knows she can always rely on. I've got more than one black dress but I suppose this was the one that tended to fit the bill when I was in doubt about what to wear. It was a go-to kind of dress.

When I was planning what I should wear for the evening I knew this wouldn't be a good time to put on anything too daring. You didn't really need to know Colin's parents very well to understand that their tastes in life would err towards the conservative. I'd correctly predicted that most of the guests would likewise fall into this category. Women wore flowery full-length dresses and men generally donned a shirt and tie.

Nevertheless, I'm a girl who likes to dress well and look good in an outfit. Dressing well, for a lady, usually means showing off a little of your attributes. So I wouldn't choose to turn up to a party in a full-length gown.

My dress that evening hit the middle ground pretty well I think. I have this theory about what looks sexy on a girl and what looks slutty. Basically, you have a choice: either you go for boobs or legs. If you go for legs, you want a skirt or dress that's cut short, or perhaps a nice little pair of shorts. But if you go for legs, you need something less revealing on the top half. That way your outfit still looks tasteful. If, on the other hand, you're going for cleavage, you have to make sure you've got less leg on show. It's when legs and boobs are both on display that you look like a slut. When you go for one or the other then you'll get the sexy look without coming across like a tart.

Of course there's not necessarily anything wrong with dressing like a tart as long as you know what you're doing. Even I've done it once or twice. Sometimes a girl decides she needs to dress that way for whatever reason. These occasions do happen.

I can remember when I was younger and I knew I was going on a night out with a group of friends that included this hot guy I was dead keen on and I dressed like an absolute tart in an effort to grab his attention. Sadly it didn't work. I ended up getting hit on by a bunch of lecherous perves all night whilst he chatted up my friend - the lucky sod.

Having said that, as a rule, I'm a girl who tends to avoid dressing like too much of a whore. I have this opinion of myself that I'm somebody whom most people would describe as 'pretty' rather than 'sexy'. I don't know if everyone who saw me would agree with me and I don't even know if everyone would really know what I mean. Perhaps you'll understand what I'm getting at here. I suppose I think of myself as being reasonably attractive but not in an overly sexualised kind of way. I don't have massive tits spilling out of my bra or ridiculously long legs or anything like that. Guys are more likely to use words like 'cute' or 'pretty' (sometimes - whisper it - even 'beautiful') to describe me than 'fit' or 'hot'. I guess I would be lying however if I didn't concede that I absolutely love it when I guy does call me 'sexy'.

So my dress, as I said, was a decent attempt at moderation. To my mind, I looked rather good in it. Anyway, as a brunette, black has always been a good colour for me. And I didn't think I was at risk of causing too much offence. The hem of the dress stopped short of my knees - around the mid-thigh region - so I did have a lot of leg on show. However, this was offset by a high neckline, which leant a more conservative look. And although the material clung to my body rather snugly, it wasn't spandex tight.

When I came in through the front door I'd hung up my coat and, since we were going to be mostly indoors, also slipped out of my heels. So I was going about the place barefoot. I like being barefoot. It's somehow freeing.

Whilst we're talking about clothes we ought to discuss my underwear choice. I know we're dwelling a great deal on the subject of my attire here but, as I told you before, clothes are important to a girl. And for me, the underwear is the best part of all. You see I just adore wearing lingerie. I absolutely love it. And guys love it too. Good underwear makes you feel (and look) like an absolute goddess. And even though I knew Colin would be away for the night, I was still going to a party and that meant I had the perfect excuse to wear something pretty.

So let me tell you what I had on underneath my dress. I'm not a fan of the thong even if it does help avoid the heinous crime of VPL (that's 'visible panty line' for the uninitiated). I'd much rather go for a cute pair of skimpy panties. And that's just what I'd chosen for the evening. Black, to match my dress, sitting low on my waist with a lacy hem that didn't show too much in the way of VPL. My bra? Black and lacy as well, of course. What else did you expect?

I heard this saying once about how if you undress a girl and find that she's wearing matching underwear then it wasn't you that planned on having sex with her that night. It's funny that. I know it's often true. If I'm feeling in the mood and I want Colin to seduce me then I choose what I wear accordingly and put on something pretty racy. Underneath that tempting top layer he'll find the all-important lingerie (if we ever get that far). I put at least as much thought into the choice of underwear as I do with what's on top.

The trouble with Colin is that he doesn't always read my mood. Or perhaps it's just that he's not got as much libido as I do. It's probably a bit of both to be honest. He's rubbish at working out when I'm feeling turned on and of the two of us I'm definitely the one who's horny more often than he is. Quite frequently I get myself ready for a night of passion with him only to find that when he gets in from work he'd rather sit down in front of Game of Thrones or whatever boxset we're currently doing and spend the evening on the sofa.

People always think men are the ones who need sex all the time. There's this kind of preconception that a man must want to have sex any time and any place because he's a man and that's just how men are. We ladies are often seen as, I don't know, somehow demure... or chaste... generally less up for it. At least that's a feeling I seem to get. I don't know where it comes from. Probably it comes from society and the media and all that kind of stuff. The truth can be quite different, as I know many girls will tell you.

With Colin and me it certainly seemed to be the other way round. I'm the one who needs sex more than he does most of the time. Sometimes I wonder if there's something wrong with that but I don't think so really. I just happen to be a more sexual creature than him, which is fine. Life is allowed to be like that.

Anyway, I don't think the rule about matching underwear always holds true. I mean, I was wearing matching underwear that evening but I don't think I could have been anticipating having sex with anyone. After all, I already knew Colin was out for the night covering the on-call shift at work so I wouldn't be getting it from him.

The strange thing is that although I go to great efforts selecting the right kind of underwear to wear for an evening, when it comes down to it I often don't want a man to waste a great deal of time admiring my choice. What I want is to see him tearing it off my body, desperate to get his hands on what lies underneath. With Colin, he so often makes for a gentle lover. He's almost timid in bed. I suppose it's kind of sweet. It's like he's a little puppy or something. I don't know though... sometimes I feel like I need him to unleash the beast inside (if there is one) and just get down and dirty with me. A girl likes to feel needed.

Perhaps I'm being a bit too hard on my Colin in all this. I don't want to put him down too much. The thing is, you see, he's actually a really good guy. He's quite good-looking in a well-bred sort of way. He's kind and affectionate. He's got a good job and he's reasonably well off. In most ways he's just the sort of man I'd always thought I needed. It's only when it comes to the sexual side of life that Colin is perhaps just a little timid for my liking. I don't want to put him down. I'm only telling you because (as you'll soon find out) this is an erotic tale so it seems relevant to give you this background.