A Night in Brighton (part 2 of 2)

I removed my dinner jacket and sat on the edge of the bed, pulling my bow tie undone and loosening the top buttons on my shirt. I removed my cuff links and put them in the clean ash tray on the bedside table on the right hand side of the bed. Where Frieda flopped was clearly favouring the left side, nearest the bathroom. She could have it, I didn’t mind what side I slept. As I dropped my second cuff link I felt a slender hand on my shoulder.

"Unzip me, please?" Frieda asked softly.

She stood at the bottom of the bed and turned her back to me. I stood and walked around the bed and unfastened the zip, down to the top of the groove of her lovely rounded bum.

"Thank you," she said quietly and pushed the dress off both shoulders and let it drop to the floor, leaving her with long gloves, tiny panties, white suspenders and stockings and standing in her high heels. She pulled off the heels, turned to face me with her arms folded across her bare breasts and put her right leg on the bed.

"Would you like to help me take off my stockings?" she asked, with a seductive smile, inserting an index finger between her lips and biting it, while keeping her elbow covering her nipple.

"Of course," I replied, the perfect gentleman. I unclasped the front two then the one behind and started to roll the stockings carefully down her thigh, past the knee. When I got to her ankle she lifted it so I could slip the stocking past her heel, then she pressed down her heel and lifted her provocatively wriggling toes so I could remove the stocking completely.

"Be a dear and place it over the back of that chair for me, would you, Jack?"

"Of course." By the time I turned around she had the other leg up on the bed and we repeated the same ritual. This time, instead of looking at what I was doing, I looked her in the eye. She looked straight back with a Mona Lisa smile on her ruby lips. I turned to hook the other stocking over the chair next to the first, hearing a rustle behind me and by the time I turned she was in bed with the sheets pulled up to her chin.

"Aren’t you going to help me with my shirt buttons?" I asked, as I picked up her dress to hang carefully over the chair.

"As a grown man, do you really need help with your buttons, Jack?" she replied coyly.

"I helped you with yours...."

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Tony Spencer
Oct 11 2020

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