Having waved goodbye to George after breakfast, I returned upstairs. It was hard to believe the day had come although it still felt more like a fantasy. I took a leisurely shower as I planned my day. I was still unsure what to wear but decided a morning of shopping would solve my problem. The look I wanted to create was seductive, enticing, willing ... but not over the top ... it would be my version of the seven veils. I left about ten and caught a tram down to Majorstua.
I decided to start with lingerie ... what George had bought for me was for us ... I needed to buy something for him. I had decided I wanted to wear a suspender belt with my stockings. When I wear suspenders I like to wear a fuller panty so it looks like a set and doesn't show any bare skin between ... don't ask me why! What I was after was a modest front but a string-like back. I knew of a couple of stores and tried the first but nothing caught my eye. I moved on to the second which had a much larger selection. I wandered around and soon found what I was looking for.
In essence it was a g-string with a high waist but what I particularly liked was the ruffled frill at the front giving the illusion of a regular panty ... just what I wanted ... I loved the material ... soft ... nearly sheer and a delicate shade of pink. The matching suspender belt and bra were equally delicate and frilly. I paid for my purchases and left.
I visited several shops before I found what else I wanted. I spied a white blouse that took my fancy. It was off-the-shoulder gypsy style and low front and back ... perfect ... but I shouldn't have bought the bra! I found a flared black skirt to round off my ensemble.
I had a light lunch in town before taking the tram home.
Once off the tram, I had barely started my walk home when a car stopped beside me. It was Wenche offering a lift.
"Some last minute shopping?" she teased.
I blushed.
"Looking forward to tonight?" she quizzed.
"A little nervous," I replied.
"Have no fears ... I know them all ... although each is different they're all wonderful lovers ... you'll have a ball believe me ... just relax and enjoy." I thanked her and hurried home.
Up in the bedroom I unpacked my purchases. Ooh la la, this would be quite an ensemble, I thought, but not wanting George to see what I planned to wear I hid them away. I stripped off, went into the bathroom and ran the bath. As the water was running I collected my razor, shaving cream and my enema bag. I then soaked in the bath for ages before starting the shaving process ... my underarms ... my legs ... finally my pussy. I've never felt comfortable using a razor between my legs ... I much prefer George to do it for me ... but I managed and was pleased how smooth I felt.
I filled the enema bag and hung it up. I squatted in the bath and gently inserted the nozzle and lay back as the warm water invaded me. I'd learnt that this was not a process to hurry ... a slow stream was the most comfortable.
Eventually the bag was empty and I was full. It was time to withdraw the tube. I had sensed few cramps so would probably only have to do it one more time. This was confirmed as I sat on the toilet and discharged my bowels. I returned to the bath and repeated the process, which was always more pleasant the second time around. Once finished on the toilet I moved to the bidet ... happy in the knowledge I'd achieved inner cleanliness ... now to finish off ... this was the enjoyable part ... the water spray washing my intimate parts and arousing me simultaneously. It always took willpower to turn the water off ... so easy to tarry as the arousal increased.
I finished with a shower so I could wash my hair and my ablutions were then complete. Once dry I sat at my dressing table, and as I blow dried my hair my mind wandered to the night ahead. In less than a few hours I would be alone with my new lover and I would be rewarded with a night of relentless lovemaking ... the mere thought sent a sensuous shiver through my horny body. Who would it be, I wondered and how would he do it?
It was then reality struck me ... to make love requires being in love ... I love George ... we make love. At this stage I had no idea who my partner would be ... impossible to be in love with somebody unknown so we wouldn't be making love. I was going to spread my legs for a stranger and allow him to penetrate me ... this was nothing more than fucking ... he would fuck me ... I would be fucked ... pure and simple.
My emotions were a mixture of shock, nerves and wanton desire. The aroused state of my nipples and clitty and the copious flow of pussy juices indicated my body's preference, but mentally I was less sure. Did I really want to be unfaithful to my dear husband? But then, being unfaithful implied cheating behind his back, and nothing could be further from the truth. We had discussed it ... he was willing ... it was in the open ... and he'd be having his fun. A pang of jealousy kicked in ... did I want to share my husband's penis with some other woman? Were we jeopardising our marriage?
Pull yourself together, girl, I thought. There was really no way back now ... it had been my idea ... it had been what I wanted ... it was going to happen. I persuaded myself to dismiss the thought of it affecting our marriage. Tor and Wenche had been in this group for more than ten years and from the way they behaved they were as every bit in love as they ever were. I was being silly ... I should relax and enjoy just as Wenche had urged.
I glanced at my watch ... it was late ... I needed to hurry. I quickly put on a blouse and jeans and went downstairs to make a light supper.
George was soon home.
"I anticipated you'd be wearing something a bit more dressy for this evening," he teased.
"I will be, my Darling, but not before you leave. A girl needs to have some secrets."
"Are you going to tell what you'll wear?"
"All I'll say is a new skirt and blouse."
"And underneath?"
"My secret ... but I'll share it with you when you return ... promise."
Once supper was finished I cleared up and let George get ready. He looked quite dishy when he returned dressed in jacket, open necked shirt and a pair of chinos.
"Well the moment of truth has arrived. How do you feel?" he asked tentatively.
"Excited but extremely nervous," was my reply.
"Me, too."
We held each other close before he left.
I hadn't much time to get ready. I rushed upstairs and stripped off, discarding my clothes in a closet. I retrieved my purchases from their hiding place and started to dress. I fastened the suspender belt and rolled on the sheerest of black stockings. I shortened the suspender straps so the stockings were nice and taut and was pleased how comfortably the belt sat on my hips with not the slightest hint of wanting to dig in. I slipped into the flimsy panties and pulled them up crouching slightly to ensure the miniscule gusset nestled between my pussy lips. I put on the blouse next and was somewhat surprised how see-through it was ... no worries ... he was going to see me naked anyway ... what was wrong with a little preview! I stepped into the skirt and realised how short the blouse was ... it seemed I would have a bare midriff ... ooh la la. I grabbed a pair of strappy sandals which I struggled to slip into while I hurriedly applied my makeup and a hint of perfume. A last check of my watch showed I had five minutes to spare ... a last check in the mirror revealed a very sensuous lady. Just before leaving the bedroom I rolled back the duvet revealing the fresh white sheet and put a couple of condoms on both bedside tables ... a clear indication of my expectations.
Back downstairs I opened the champagne and poured two glasses.
There was a ring at the doorbell ... I waited for the second confirming the arrival of my guest. No sooner had it rung for the second time than I heard the door open and close ... the lock being turned ... footsteps on the stairs ... who would it be?
"I'm in the lounge at the front," I called.
"I'm at the top of the stairs."
"Turn left and straight ahead."
I studied the door as the figure appeared. It was Morten, Gerd's husband. He was a typical blonde-haired blue-eyed Scandinavian ... quite a hunk ... dressed in a pink shirt and tight white slacks ... deck shoes and no socks ... wow.
I got up and we embraced ... spontaneously kissed ... ever so natural. He sat on the sofa and I deliberately sat opposite him in the armchair. I wanted him to admire the "goods" before I surrendered to him. He had to feel a little awkward, with an inexperienced member of the group without any form. I played this to my advantage. As we chatted, sipping our champagne, I sensed his eyes studying me in detail ... my breasts and stiff nipples were open to his gaze ... the swelling in his crotch confirmed he was aroused by what he saw. It was now time to be slightly more daring ... I lifted my hem slightly before crossing my legs and letting it fall again ... in this brief moment there would be little I hadn't revealed. I was pleased to see his swelling grow. Continuing to chat, in an ever so innocent way I shifted position knowing full well that my stocking top, suspender clasp and naked thigh were being displayed. Noting his glass was nearly empt,y I got up to refill it. Unashamedly I bent at the waist as I poured knowing full well my breasts were completely exposed. I tarried awhile allowing him time to enjoy the spectacle.
"Would it be appropriate for me to join you on the sofa at this stage?" I asked with a big grin.