This story is set in England, so the words used are English not American. It continues after 'Neighbourly Ladies' Chapter 1, and tells of two ladies finding themselves, so please don't read it if you don't like this idea.
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When Tom was at home we would sometimes go out for a meal together as a foursome. I was pleased that Tom got on so well with Elizabeth's husband Chris. I thought that he was a bit effeminate but he seemed nice enough. It was funny really as he would almost jump to attention when Elizabeth told him to do something. Anyone could see she was the boss.
My husband Tom was totally different and it was noticeable that Elizabeth was very respectable when Tom was present. If Chris was with us on his own, Elizabeth seemed to ignore him, so I started to ignore him as well.
One evening the four of us went out to dinner. I told Elizabeth that Tom had to leave for an overseas trip the next morning. She smiled. So did I. She knew I wanted to see her again.
At the end of the meal she whispered: "Ring me as soon as he has gone!"
So the morning after Tom had left I rang her to tell her that I was free and she told me to come around at 11 am.
I agreed, and then she asked me: "What underwear are you wearing Margaret?"
I told her I had some little skimpy bikini knickers on.
She simply said: "That's no good, Margaret, I want you in tight white cotton panties. They are much more suitable for a woman of your age, and better for your pussy than that thong you wore last time."
I don't know why I was so subservient but I simply answered: "Yes Elizabeth."
Again it seemed so natural to ask: "What else would you like me to wear Elizabeth?"
She went silent for a minute so I waited.
Then she said "I want you in that nice beige sweater-dress."
I asked: "Do you mean my short angora woollen dress, Elizabeth?"
She laughed: "Yes Margaret. I'd like you in cuddly soft wool and nice white knickers. You should leave your bra off too." I don't know why but I felt so giggly.
I let myself into her house - she'd lent me a spare key the week after we'd first moved in - and went into the lounge to see her sitting in their sofa wearing just the pink v-neck cardigan that she'd had on the last time we'd played, and plain tight white panties - no skirt at all.
I gasped but somehow it didn't surprise me.
She looked at me and smiled: "I do like you in that dress Margaret, and with no bra you look so cuddly and soft."
I murmured gratefully: "Thank you Margaret."
I couldn't understand myself. I was in my forties and yet I felt so thankful if she said anything nice to me.
It got even more bizarre as I stood in front of her and she smiled: "You are a good little girl, aren't you Margaret, wearing just what I wanted and doing just what I say."
"Well of course - I hope I'm polite enough for you Elizabeth."
She nodded.
"Pull your dress up Margaret, and let me see your panties." she ordered.
I didn't even question it, and just pulled up the hem of my short dress, displaying my tight white cotton knickers.
Again I felt relieved when she smiled: "You are a good girl for wearing just what I said. You do want to be a good little girl for Mummy, don't you Margaret?"
I am 43 but felt in a dream as I heard myself answering: "Yes Mummy."
She was sitting in front of me with her legs together, and opened her arms before telling me: "Come to Mummy, Margaret and kneel over me. Keep your legs apart to straddle mine."
As I moved forward she pulled me partly on top of her so I grabbed the back of the chair, with my knees on the sofa, so I was left straddling her with my legs wide apart, feeling somehow vulnerable despite being on top of her. She pulled my head down and kissed me full on the lips, her tongue just licking at my lips.
"Now I've got you where I want you!" she smiled, and I felt her arms encircling me then stroking down my back, feeling the softness of the wool, moving down to squeeze my pantied bottom. It was a ridiculous position for two women of our age but it felt so lovely as her hands stroked softly but firmly over the tight cotton of my panties.
We stayed like that for ages as she fondled me, feeling round my waist under the dress, and over the soft wool where my breasts were hanging down.
"Mmm," she murmured, "I do love the feel of your body under this soft wool. Your titties feel even more gorgeous than before, now they are hanging in front of me, and your bottom feels so nicely firm under your knickers. I can't wait to taste your pussy again, Margaret!"
I flushed, but loved the feelings she was giving me, and in this position I just had to let her make all the moves.
She moved both hands down to my panties, stroking over my bottom then getting closer to my cunt as she followed the line of the elastic round and slipped between my legs.
Then she whispered up to me: "Undo my buttons, Margaret. Get Mummy's tits out."
It was difficult to do from this position, but I did as I was old, reaching down with one hand to fumble at each button, as I had to keep my other arm on the back of the sofa to stop myself falling on her. Despite only having one hand, the buttons seemed to opened easily, and the soft woollen fabric just fell away with each button, until her beautiful big breasts were fully exposed and the wool hung each side of her, framing them prettily.
As she put her hands between my legs and started to rub my panty gusset I started to moan but I knew how good she was and besides, straddling her like I was, I couldn't stop her anyway.
Soon her fingers had wormed their way inside my panties, and I felt them tickling my cunt as the explored me further. I was feeling quite damp and squidgy now, so I opened my legs more and felt her fingers move gently inside me.
She whispered: "Is this nicer than with your husband Margaret?"
