Wenche
It was the day after George's office reception. I was lazing in the bath a little later than usual daydreaming about Wenche and the French lady ... the images still clear ... the effect still arousing. I wanted Wenche ... no needed her. But how, I wondered, how could I broach the subject ... how could I make it happen. At this stage I had no answers but it was clear if we weren't together it would never happen. I resolved to call her as soon as I was dressed. I lay back and began to fantasize about Wenche ... about us. I spread my legs wide and was about to let my hand address the cravings of my tingling clitty when the phone rang.
"Shit," I cursed. "Who might that be?" I was about to let it ring when I remembered George mentioning we might have to entertain some business colleagues that evening ... I dutifully answered.
"Hi, Marion. It's Wenche. Are you doing anything this morning?" she asked.
My heart raced. "Nothing planned," I replied.
"Oh good. Wondered if you'd like to come round for coffee a little later."
"I'd love too," almost purring.
"I'm so pleased ... it'll give us a chance to get to know each other a little better. Would 10:30 be convenient?"
I glanced at the clock ... it was already 9:30.
"I'm sure I can be ready by then."
"No elaborate preparations. It's just you and me. See you then."
We hung up.
My mind was in a spin ... was I imagining her hidden message ... get to know each other ... just the two of us ... was this a planned seduction or just wishful thinking on my part? Either way now was not the time for a solo climax ... if things didn't work out I could indulge when I got back.
I dried and wrestled with what to wear and then I had a flash of inspiration. I could spy on Wenche's bedroom and if she was there at least I'd see what she was wearing and could dress appropriately. Naked as the day I was born I hurried to the other room. Wenche's bedroom was deserted. Patiently I waited and was beginning to despair. Then she appeared wearing a thin negligΓ©e that had been left untied.
I stared intently enthralled by her uninhibited sexuality. But what was she going to wear I wondered hoping for some indications of possible intentions. She sat at her dressing table seemingly for ever but then stood up removed her negligΓ©e and disappeared briefly from view. She returned clutching her chosen apparel. She dropped the blouse on the bed and stepped into a thin flared skirt that was provocatively short. She grabbed the blouse and put it on. It was more of a camisole with thin straps and a daringly low neckline. There was no certainty but I was almost convinced that we had similar intentions.
I returned to the bedroom and got myself dressed. Although I knew Wenche was wearing nothing under her skirt, after yesterday's experience, I was unwilling to risk it ... I wanted something to absorb my pussy juices ... I'd wear my briefest lacy thong. I chose a short fairly tight denim skirt and a soft white satin blouse with long sleeves. Going bare foot was not an option for me so settled for low heeled strappy sandals. I slipped on a jacket and walked round to Wenche's.
"So glad you could come ... let me take your jacket," enthused Wenche. She was dressed exactly as I had seen her complete with her bare feet. She led me into the lounge and offered me a seat on the sofa. "I'll be right back. I need to finish making the coffee."
While she was in the kitchen I tried to come up with a plan but all I could come up with was grab any opportunity but what if there was no opportunity. The only fallback was to leave it to Wenche ...
She was soon back with cups and saucers. As she bent to place them on the coffee table I clearly saw her beautifully formed breasts. Was this an inadvertent or intentional display? There was no way to tell. She stood up and moved to a chair at the end of the table. "The coffee will be ready soon ... so how are you settling in?" she asked.
There was an opportunity to tell her I was missing Janet but concluded it was premature. "Fine," I said and the small talk continued until she went to fetch the coffee.
As she poured my cup her breasts were once more revealed.
This was my chance ... I had to risk it. "What beautiful breasts, Wenche. I wish mine were so developed." I began to blush.
"I think small breasts are sexy ... they draw attention to the nipples ... that's where we derive our pleasure." She sat down beside me. "I bet you have sensitive nipples, am I right?"
I felt a hand brush ever so gently over my left breast. My heart was pounded like a girl on her first date and already my breathing was more laboured. All I could manage was a nod of the head. That was all it took ... her fingers found my nipple and began to tease it ... I turned my head to face her and immediately our lips touched and our tongues explored. My concerns were over ... the ice was broken.
Boldly I slipped my hand under her blouse and found a breast and her extended nipple. I heard her sigh.
"I'm so pleased we've found each other ... it's the outcome I was hoping for. Rather than coffee down here why don't we move upstairs and enjoy the chilled wine awaiting us?"
I was in sixth heaven with seventh in sight.
She took my hand and led me upstairs. It was strange being physically in the room that I'd come to know so intimately.
"The jacuzzi and white wine await us ... may I?" she asked as her hands moved to my zip.
"Oh ... yes," I purred. My skirt fell to the floor.
As she worked on my blouse I slid my hands into the waistband of her skirt easing it over her hips.
"Now let me see those pretty small breasts and the sensitive nipples. I stood back and removed my blouse.