After Bill stopped grabbing my ass, I finished applying my makeup. I pulled on a pair of white thigh-high stockings. They had a 4 inch band of white lace around the tops and rose to within a few inches of my panties. I then pulled my new, deep purple silk dress over my hips and zipped up the back. From the hem to the waist the dress clung to me like a second-skin. From there to my neck the back was tight but the front neckline formed a deep "V" where a substantial amount of cleavage could be seen, especially with the push-up, half bra. The neckline consisted of multiple layered folds of silk attached at the shoulders. When I stood straight and tall, the neckline plunged to just above my bra, making the dress sexy without being slutty. But if I leaned forward, the material fell away from my body so that anyone standing or sitting in front of me would get a clear and unobstructed view of my bra and the bulging breasts it barely contained. I finished off the outfit with 4" spikes that matched the dress.
When I walked into the living room to show Bill, he was speechless. Again, he whistled and said, "You really look sexy!"
"That's good because, if a girl's going hunting, she has to use the right bait," I said, laughing.
"If George doesn't take that bait, he's a eunuch!" Bill responded.
Bill
When the doorbell rang, Marcie danced to the door and flung it open. I saw George standing there with flowers and a bottle of wine. He took one look at Marcie and he too was speechless.
She immediately drew him into the house by the arm and, rose up on her tiptoes and gave him a quick peck on the lips. George is over six feet tall, weighs about 230 pounds and clearly pumps some serious iron. At about 40, his light brown hair is showing enough strands of gray to give him "character" rather than age. He was dressed in slacks, a sport shirt and blue blazer. I had to admit that he looked like a pretty good hunk.
Marcie relieved George of the flowers and wine, said she'd put the flowers in water and went to the kitchen.
I welcomed George and took him into the living room where I poured us both drinks. When Marcie joined us, I poured her a wine and she sat next to me on the couch as we made small talk catching up on his activities and ours. In about 20 minutes we left for the restaurant.
George and I rode in front, with me driving, and Marcie sitting behind me in the back. The drive was about 45 minutes and, as the time progressed, I noticed that Marcie was clearly flirting with George. My car has bucket seats, so he could turn toward me and easily see Marcie as he talked to her. I could see her in the mirror. Every so often I saw her cross and re-cross her legs. Every time I was able to glimpse a momentary show of the lace of her thigh-highs, lots of skin and the not so opaque panties. I noted from the movement of his eyes that George was seeing the same show.
At the restaurant we were seated in a booth with Marcie between us. The décor was subdued reds and golds with floor-to-ceiling windows facing the ocean. We had a spectacular, unobstructed view of the wide beach, the breaking waves and the brilliant varied hues of the setting sun. As the sun light dimmed, soft lights came on bathing the restaurant in a romantic glow.
In response to the waiter's inquiry, I ordered a beer since I was driving and George ordered his usual whisky-sour. Looking at me and winking, Marcie ordered a "Canadian Black Velvet, neat". With her drink order I knew that George had passed the initial "would she fuck him" test. Now it was up to him for the second part of that test as to whether he "would fuck her". I was pretty certain of that outcome.
Dinner progressed slowly with Marcie directing much of the conversation toward George. I continued to slowly nurse my beer while neither George nor Marcie appeared to limit their drinks. Each time he told one of his many tales, after all he was a salesman, she would laugh and touch his arm or his hand or his thigh. Each time her hand lingered just a moment longer than necessary. It wasn't enough to raise his suspicions, but long enough for him to enjoy the attention. There were even a few times she leaned toward him and I saw his eyes focus down the front of her dress.
After requesting the check, which George insisted he would pay, George excused himself for a moment. While he was gone, Marcie leaned toward me and in a slightly slurred but very serious whisper said, "Bill, are you absolutely sure that you want to do this?"
"I do, if you do." I responded.
"Well, he's very appealing and I think he's pretty interested in me." She said.
"I'm absolutely sure he is," I said with a smile, "but the question is whether you feel comfortable having sex with him and me".
After a momentary hesitation she said, "I think so."
"Then I'm good with our plans," I said.
"Ok, I'm ready," she whispered more resolutely and kissed me very passionately on the lips. "I love you so much."
"I love you back," I said with a smile.
George returned and we left the restaurant. Both George and Marcie looked like they were feeling their drinks, but not intoxicated. Marcie asked me to bring the car to the door since her shoes hurt her feet and, as she said in a very unladylike way, "I keep falling off these fucking spikes". She kicked her shoes off and George retrieved them.
When I arrived with the car, Marcie took George's hand and asked me, "It's so lonely sitting in back, is it okay if George rides back here with me?"
Being the co-conspirator and confident husband, I bowed slightly, held the door open and said, "Of course. Just call me Jeeves, the chauffer." This elicited the appropriate laughter, even though George's seemed a little strained.
Instead of taking the freeway, I chose the coast highway. This took longer and was a much prettier ride home. Looking through the rear-view mirror, the back seat was completely obscured except for brief seconds when illuminated by an on-coming car's headlights. Only then could I catch a glimpse of what they were doing. Initially, Marcie and George included me in the conversation; however, in about 15 minutes I heard nothing but murmured voices. When the back seat was momentarily illuminated, I saw flashes of George and Marcie sitting closely together. Their movements were like watching dancers under a strobe light.
A few times I saw Marcie and George kissing. With another glimpse, I saw George place his hand on her dress-covered breast and hold it a moment until she gently removed it. George looked at the mirror, but I averted my eyes and pretended I was unaware of what was going on.
Through the various flashes of light, I could see that Marcie was slowly losing the war with George's wandering hands. In one flash I saw that the top of her dress was pulled aside and he had one hand on top of her bra. In another flash of headlights, I saw her skirt had ridden up so that I could see the band of lace at the top of her stockings. To help Marcie in her losing battle with George's exploring hands, I soon announced, "We'll be home in a few minutes. Marcie, do we need anything from the store?"
After a short pause, she responded, "No" and then giggled as I saw the hint of a blurred flurry of movement in the mirror.
When we arrived home, George went to his car to retrieve his valise. Marcie, after a moment got out of the car with her make-up and hair somewhat mussed and, leaning against me for support, whispered in a seductive voice, "I won't be needing these". She handed me her soaked panties. I quietly chuckled as we briefly kissed before walking into the house with George.
Marcie went down the hall and said, "I'm going to freshen up, so you guys make yourselves comfortable. Bill, I'll take another Canadian Black, please."
"Do you want any ice?"
"No thanks."
George and I went into the living room where I poured us another drink. George was clearly feeling his liquor. After the drinks were ready, I sat on the couch and he sat in the over-stuffed chair across the coffee table from me. Soon Marcie returned, still wearing her dinner outfit, but with her make-up repaired and hair put back in place.
We drank and sat in an awkward silence until I asked George if he would like to see our favorite movie?
"Sure," he said with a quizzical look.
I winked at Marcie and said, "It's called 'The Perfect Couple, Plus One'."
"In that case I'll be back in a few minutes." Marcie said as she rose and left the room.
