Bob was going to be away for three nights the next week, so when I got to work, I spoke to Celia about a date on Wednesday evening, this time ending up at our house rather than her flat. She jumped at the chance. "Bring some clothes for the following day as I am expecting you to stay the night." I told her.
I suggested we went out for a drink and then see where it went from there. "I know where I want to go." She said, "Your bed."
"That's what I hope too." I told her.
After work on Wednesday, we left work together. I rather rashly walked out of the office holding her hand. Somehow I wanted people to notice, I wanted them to talk about us, I wanted them to know, I had a now unsuppressed need to become an object of scorn. I don't know why I wanted this, there was some urge to expose our relationship to public comment. Celia was happy to go along with this although she was surprised, perhaps as surprised as I was myself.
As we arrived at my house, I asked Celia if she was up for a bit of public fun. She gave guarded agreement to this. I said I would probably kiss her in the pub or club, depending on where we ended up. She laughed and said she was relieved, she had begun to imagine all sorts of things that I might have in mind. I told her I was always open to suggestions. We both laughed at that.
We headed out to the pub in town, appearing like to women on the pull. The only thing we were going to pull were the legs of the blokes who thought we might be up for it. We were of course, but only with each other.
She was wearing a black embroidered bolero, which didn't meet in the middle, over a slightly sparkly button through dress having a low square neckline. I discovered early on that under her dress was a black half cup bra that showed her beautiful breast cleavage of magnificently. I was wearing a dark brown wrap-over skirt under a very thin strappy top. This had a high sheen that showed off every little crevice of my chest. I was wearing panties, black lace, but no bra and my nipples showed the extent of my excitement by poking out the material. Even my Montgomery Glands, those little bumps on my areola were showing against the shiny fabric.
In the pub we hit the spirits straight away and were soon in a condition where we did not care much about anything. I suppose I started things off by kissing her full on the mouth in a crowded pub. As I did so, I placed my hand above her left breast on her chest, under her jacket but outside her dress. "You're naughty." She said softly.
"Tell me to stop if you don't like it." I told her. She said nothing. I muzzled her right ear and smelt her hair. "You smell gorgeous." I said. I let my thumb find her cleavage and she made a sharp intake of breath. She didn't tell me to stop, not even when I undid the top button of her dress. She said nothing when I ventured to open the next button down. This time however, she placed her hand on mine and I thought this was the signal to stop. However to my surprise she moved my hand so it was inside her dress and cupping her left breast. We sat like that for a while, me still with my nose in her hair, lightly kissing her cheek and my hand inside her dress.
"The bra." She whispered. "It is front fastening." No more than that, no instruction, no pleas, but a seemingly open invitation to separate the cups of her bra. In the mean time, her right hand was on my thigh searching for the wrap of my skirt. She found it and suddenly her hand was on the bare skin of my leg. It crept further up until the back of her fingers were brushing my panties.
"My panties," I whispered, "they are, dispensable."
"Then dispose of them." She said.
"You do it." I urged her and at the same time undid the clip on her bra.
I have to say that the pub was really crowded. It was almost standing room only and we were sitting along the wall of the room on a bench that turned away from the wall in a sort of return, like you would get on an office desk. People were standing, talking amongst themselves and not taking too much notice of us. Her hand up my skirt was partially blocked from view by the small round table typical of English pubs. However my hand inside her dress was visible to anyone who wished to look.
I put my hand inside the bra cup and cupped her breast in my hand, then rolled her nipple between my thumb and forefinger. She made a sound like "Hmmmm." I thnk she liked what I was doing. I certainly liked what she did next. I felt her fingernails scratching at the fabric on my panties, then they succeeded in punching a hole through them and her finger went straight into my cunt. It was my turn to gasp now.
"Tell me to stop if you don't like it." She said with a grin, as she mimicked my comment to her a little while earlier. I was determined to say nothing, so did not. I moved my hand away from her breast for a moment, we had our other arms around each other just above waist level. With my free hand I undid a couple more buttons on her dress, so it was now undone almost to her waist. One bra cup was still supporting her right breast, but I pushed the other one into her armpit so I could have unfettered access to her left breast. My hand was still ostensibly inside her dress, but in fact it had slid away a little so in effect the only thing stopping her almost all of her breast being on display was my hand covering it.
"I'm loving this." I whispered.
"So am I." she replied, "But I think the girl in the jeans and blue top has clocked us."
"So what?" I asked.
"Don't you mean so wet?" she asked with a giggle. Then her hand behind me started to move. I realised she was undoing one of the two clasps on my skirt. It was the outer one, so if I stood up there would be a good chance my skirt would at least half fall off. This was not her aim. Her intention was to allow her to get her hand up the back of my tight top.
When I realised what she was doing, I eased my back away from the backrest a little to give her more room. Then with two fingers playing with my clitoris, she forced not only her hand but her whole arm up inside the back of my top until her hand was resting in my shoulder but underneath the strap. "Are you going to tear my top?" I asked her quietly.
"Is that what you want me to do?"
I said nothing. There was absolutely no doubt that we were now being watched out of corners of eyes. Nobody was making it glaringly obvious they were watching, but several people were casting glances our way. Nobody seemed inclined to alert the very busy bar staff, the onlookers seemed fascinated as to how far we would go.
"You take off your panties and I'll do the same with my bra." She offered.
"OK, but we have to do it right here." I told her.
"That was my intention." She said, extricating her arm from inside my top. Her other hand disappeared from my nether regions and she pulled her bolero jacket over to cover her breast. This allowed me to use both hands to see to my own clothing. Firstly I refastened my skirt, pulled my top straight, leaving it outside my skirt for the moment, then wriggled myself forward on the seat and eased my now holed panties down my legs.
Celia seemed rather rapidly to be able to get her left arm out of her bra strap by pulling it down to her wrist and passing her hand through it. I noticed that she had done up a couple of the buttons on her dress before going through the same procedure with the bra strap and her right hand. Then she simply pulled the undone bra out of her neckline. Some people sniggered as they realised what she had done. "What do you want to do now?" she asked.
"Go dancing." I told her, so she stood up and held out her hand for me. I still had my panties in my fist. She took them off be and tossed them together with her discarded bra on the seat where we had been sitting. As we stood two people, a man and a woman clapped their hands and told us they had enjoyed the show. A voice said "Goodnight Diana." So someone who had been watching, knew me. A frisson of excitement went up my spine as I felt familiar eyes drilling into it. I did not see who it was.
"Where shall we go?" Celia asked.
"What about The Central" I suggested.
"Nah! The clientele is too young and stupid for our sort. Hang on. I've heard of a club that sounds to be just the place." She led me down a few back streets and we ended up outside a basement club. I knew it was there, but have never been inside. "This is the nearest option to a proper jazz club in this town." She told me. "And they tolerate lesbians."
I laughed. "Is that what we are?"
She chuckled, "We are tonight!"
We had some trouble getting in as the doorman thought I looked too young. "She's a married woman for God's sake!" I thought Celia was going to hit him, which considering his size, (similar to Bob's) would have been a mistake.
It was dark and in defiance of the smoking ban, very smoky. A live trio of Saxophone, keyboard and bass players were producing smooth smoochy blues. A waitress in an extremely short skirt stopped us going straight on to the dance floor, by demanding a drinks order. She showed us to a tiny cramped table near the dais that passed for a stage. "Leave the drinks on the table sweetheart," Celia said with a sneer, "We're going dancing."
We weren't alone, there were a few couples shuffling around the floor. They seemed to tolerate most types here, there were even a couple blokes dancing together. It wasn't long before we were in the zone, holding each other tightly, cheek to cheek. "Feel my tits." Celia whispered to me. I took one hand and placed it under her jacket and felt the mound of her beautiful breast. "Properly." She murmured. So I started to undo the buttons on her dress. "As far a you like." I did as I was bid. I made it as far as just below her groin, before I couldn't reach any further. "Pull the others apart. Pull them!" She instructed me urgently. I had to use two hands, but I did it. Right down to the hem of her dress. Buttons scattered across the floor. A couple dancing near us looked but said nothing. I pulled up my own top so my own tiny breasts were exposed and pressed them against Celia's perfect pair. Her dress parted all the way down and I saw for the first time her white panties. The ultra violet light picked up the whiteness and made it stand out brilliantly.
