Basque

I’d never worn the basque outside of the bedroom before but I thought this evening it would be perfect, for it accentuated my curves but hardly held my breasts in place. A standard large wasn’t quite made for my 34F’s that were squeezed up and forwards in a rather tempting if not precarious manner. The sheer black of the boned middle sculpted my waist to a delicious hourglass and lead the eye downwards to the suspender straps holding up my new black stockings. Seamed. Sheer. No knickers were needed as I slipped on the long black silk dress over the top. The dress was soft and lined and although made me feel good didn’t give away any hints of what was held beneath apart from a rather tempting cleavage.

I’d behaved well enough all evening (not telling everyone I met that I didn’t have any knickers on) and once back at home the after dinner fun was showing the rest of the guests what I had on as I removed my dress in one quick and hopefully stylish flourish.

The benefit of a poorly fitting outfit round my breasts is they are easily lifted free as the small black cups nestle underneath them assisting in their upward lift.

The activities unfolding around me fizz and sparkle like the many glasses of champagne I’d drunk earlier and at this point I find myself propped on his knee. My head resting back against his shoulder, pinned down with his left arm around me clasped onto my right breast. His thumb and finger rolling my right nipple. His right hand is between my spread legs, building the heat that is flaring up inside me as we watch the scene in front of us.

My husband is sat across the room. His fitted black shirt now open, his smart suit trousers also open with his cock standing proudly to attention. The attention of the those naked, kneeling in front of him sucking and licking it. Stealing kisses with each other as he looks down at them.

I hear my companion whisper in my ear “look at how wonderfully they suck his cock? You like watching them, I can feel you clench on my fingers. What a good fucking slut you are, getting off on seeing this” His fingers are relentless and I’m squirming around, his goes from rolling my nipple to pinching and pulling on it hard and I can’t hold back any longer. I look directly at my husband and groan loudly “Please?” He looks across at me, his face shining with obvious pleasure

“Yes”

I let go, my body arches, my head tilts back and I buck against the man beneath me. my orgasm rolled through me, dripping out over his fingers and splashing onto the wooden floor.