4 comments/ 18010 views/ 10 favorites Why Bother with Panties? Ch. 02 By: monicaelwes Marcia hadn't meant to fuck Gareth. She hadn't planned it or thought about it, or even him really, since Amanda and Kevin's housewarming a month or so ago. There, they had danced together. There, he had ran his hands down her back and onto her bum and had found she wasn't' wearing any underwear. There he had said "Seems as though you forgot something Marcia," and smiling she had replied. "What makes you think I forgot?" That and her hand on his bum gave him a hard on that he had pressed suggestively against her flat, smooth stomach. It was also there, at that party, that Marcia had been fucked by Gareth's dad, otherwise she may well have responded to Gareth's blatant suggestion. Gareth, on the other hand, had thought of little else since the party other than having sex with Marcia. He was obsessed by her, his stepmother Amanda's best friend. He had been since he first met her when he was twenty or so, some four years ago. She was attractive in a hard, rich bitch sort of way. Angular features, thin lips and a pointy nose stopped her being classically beautiful, but she was glamorous and vivacious, people were impressed by her and remembered her, most men fancied her. Her short, beautifully groomed, dark hair, green eyes and prominent cheekbones made her memorable. She had the confidence which having money of a level where you don't have to give a fuck brings, was outgoing, at times outrageous and she used every single one of her womanly charms continuously. Fairly tall, around five nine, she was slim and as good as flat-chested, just two little puffs of flesh capped by big, dark nipples. She had great legs and an awesome arse. The overriding aspect of Marcia that appealed to men was the strong hint of availability she always promoted. She appeared to be 'up for it' all the time, and it was that which had given Gareth the strong attraction towards her. It was Kevin who had fostered Marcia's love of not wearing underwear. With tits the size of her, 'basically pimples with raspberries on them' as she had been known to refer to them, she didn't need a bra, although until the housewarming, she always wore panties. Two events changed that. Kevin took her into the grounds of the house and fucked her up against the wall of the pool changing room. In so doing, her panties slid to the floor and were ruined. Kevin put them in his pocket and hence, later that evening the extreme thrill for his son from his first marriage. A week or so later in a hotel bedroom he used Marcia's panties to tie her wrists to the bed. As he did that, they were torn. She had to travel home on the tube in her short skirt, with no tights or panties. She found she loved it and got immensely turned on by not wearing them. In the ten years since then, she rarely wore any, irrespective of her attire. * She was at Amanda's house in Bloomsbury, quite near to the British Museum. Gareth had popped in to collect something. A derivatives trader who lived on his wits and instincts, he was just starting to be successful. In other words, he was earning obscene amounts of money for someone who had no real skills other than the ability to get people to buy what he was selling. In business that was stocks and shares, in his social life to women it was come to bed. It was his quick wits and instincts that made him successful in both settings; at work he was earning over two-hundred thousand a year and socially he was sleeping with far more women of all ages than he could count. Given the amount he drank, the pills he popped and the stuff he shoved up his nose, counting was the least of the problems, it was remembering them that was more challenging! "I'll give you a lift," he said seeing a way to get Marcia to himself. She had lost her driving licence for a drink offence a few months ago and was preparing to go home by tube. "I live in Hampstead, Gareth," she said seemingly recalling that he lived in the East End. "That's alright," he beamed, standing up and taking hold of Marcia's elbow. "Practically on my way ma'am, your carriage awaits." Marcia looked at him as Amanda was getting her coat. She saw the look of desire and availability in his eyes. It was a look with which she became had become more familiar as time and the number of men and women she slept with increased. She now took it for granted and was disappointed when she did not see it in the eyes of a potential suitor. Marcia was wearing the same, slightly too short for a late-thirties woman, black, leather skirt she had worn when she and Kevin had met in the hotel. That was when he had ruined her panties by using them to tie her up and she had travelled home commando. That was when Marcia had first found the delights of being naked under her top clothes. On top, she was wearing a thin, round neck, pink cashmere sweater through which her rather prominent nipples made indentations. This was particularly noticeable when the soft material was stretched, as it was now when Marcia was shrugging into the black puffer jacket. Gareth saw the interesting bumps appear; he stared at them. Marcia knew they were on show and she stared at Gareth. Their eyes caught, they held the other's gaze for a moment, and it was then that they both knew they would probably fuck. In celebration of his new-found wealth, Gareth had just bought a 911. As the low-slung seat meant that Marcia's legs were stretched almost flat out under the dashboard, her short skirt, inevitably rode up even further. They both saw that, they both looked at the long expanse of tanned flesh, they both glanced at each other; neither said anything and neither did anything, other than look. They chatted quite easily as they drove slowly through the heavy rush hour traffic. "This is miles out of your way Gareth, she said as they passed Kings Cross." "That's ok. "Why don't you drop me, I can get the tube from here." "What on a crowded tube wearing that skirt," he quipped back. "Yes, why not?" "You ever travel in the rush hour?" "No not reaaly." "This is the peak time and it's in bandit country." Marcia laughed, raising one foot up a little and bending the knee that was away from Gareth. "I can look after myself." "I'm sure you can," Gareth said his eyes drooling up and down Marcia's great legs. Due to her movement, the hem of the leather skirt had risen even further up her thighs. It was excitingly high, dangerously so. 'Almost panty level' Gareth was thinking, as his cock started to grow. The way her left leg was bent and her right was flat meant that the hem dipped down from one leg to the other, forming a little tunnel up the few remaining, covered inches of Marcia's, slightly parted thighs. 'Fuck, from another angle I could look right up it he thought' wondering if the no panties thing was a one off or a permanent habit. He went on. "It's also city boy territory from and you know what they are like don't you?" Smiling to herself at his less than sophisticated chat lines and rather obvious, but nevertheless welcomingly flattering, ogling of her legs, Marcia looked at him, caught his eye, smiled and said. "I'm certainly beginning to Gareth." Marcia had recently become more worried about her advancing age and felt in need of constant reassurance that she was attractive and desirable. Hence, the short skirts, the low cut tops, the no bras and now the no panties as well. It was seeking this, which almost certainly, or so her psychologist husband thought, made her need the pleasure of constant new conquests. And it was precisely that which made her turn it on with Gareth. She turned slightly onto her right side, bent both knees a bit, put her elbow on the back of the seat, and supported her head with her hand. Almost gulping, he asked. "And what have you learned Marcia?" She smiled as she saw his eyes drift towards her legs. She moved them slightly. That completed his erection, 'Fucking hell,' he thought as he imagined reaching over and pulling the skirt up to see if she was wearing anything under them. Marcia replied, with a smile, "That some are real cheeky bastards." 'Shit, was that referring to the conversation when I asked if she had forgotten something?' He wondered He laughed. "But we have good memories, unlike some." Sounding quite serious, Marcia replied. "I have a very good memory, for most things." 'She is replaying that conversation,' he realised as, indeed, she was. "But of course you do some things on purpose don't you Marcia?" There was silence for a moment. They were in a jam round the back of Kings Cross Station. "Look Gareth, I could jump out here, I'll be home in half hour." Gareth panicked, he couldn't let her go, he knew he was near, if only there was somewhere he could take her, he was sure she was up for it. "Marcia, as much as I would love to see you getting out of this fucking ridiculous car in that skirt, I insist on you staying." "Why?" She asked, letting her arm fall straight along the back of his seat. In keeping with his work style and general risk-taking personality, Gareth went for broke, or at least started to. "Because Marcia, looking at your legs in here, is like having a soft porn movie in my own fucking car." She laughed. "Just soft? I'm disappointed." "Well some things are far from soft." "And what, pray, might they be." She asked, her fingernail softly scratching his neck. "Give me your hand and I'll show you, if you like." She pondered for a moment or two. Were things going too quickly? Did she want yet another sexual complication in her life? Was it too much to be fucking both Gareth and his dad? Did she really want to get mixed up with a kid, ten or twelve years younger than her? Could she cope with fucking her best friend's stepson as well as her husband? All these thoughts were going through her mind as she also thought of the stamina that young men had, their ability to get hard so soon after cumming, their capabilities of shagging many times in an evening and of the firm, lithe body that she knew from seeing him swimming Gareth possessed. Those thoughts won the day and she slowly held her left hand out towards him. Driving with just his right hand was not a problem in the five to ten miles an hour crawl, so it was simple for him to grasp Marcia's hand. Slowly, but with bated breath on both their parts, he pulled her hand and placed it right on his uncomfortably restricted erection. He opened his legs a little more and leaned back further. That was all so suggestive on his part and inviting to her. She ran her fingers over the bulge, which quite frankly could have been anything, for it was so caught up in his trousers, shirttail and pants. She knew what was expected, though. What Gareth hoped for and what she, as a willing participant was, almost, duty bound to do. She pressed and pushed, pulled and wiggled until she freed him from the other restrictions, until his erection could do what it was supposed to do, stand ramrod straight right up his wonderfully flat stomach. It was big, thick more than long, which she preferred. She ran her fingers along its length. "Nice?" She asked. "Yes, but could be nicer." She smiled. "How?" Without asking her permission or messing around anymore he reached down and started to undo his zip. Scrunched up in the low sports seat of the car that was difficult. "Fuck," he said lifting himself up by holding onto the steering wheel, he tried to undo the zip. As much as he wiggled and moved, lifted himself up and tugged at the zip, it simply wouldn't move. Laughing she said. "Sit down Gareth, let me do it." The traffic was easier as they turned into Holloway Road, in Islington and they picked up speed, bowling along at about twenty miles per hour. Marcia leaned across and undid his belt. Then holding the top of the trousers and pulling the front of them tight, she was able to slip the zip down quite easily. "See it just needs a woman's touch," she said as they hit yet another traffic hold up at Archway station. "Yes Marcia that is exactly what IT needs," he replied putting the emphasis pointedly on the it. "IT?" Marcia asked with equal emphasis, smiling. "Yes Marcia, IT, fucking IT." "Well then I suppose IT should get a woman's touch shouldn't IT!" Marcia said softly as they pulled across the junction. "Jesus, Marcia, that's fucking brilliant," Gareth groaned as Marcia's fingers closed round his erection. "Oh shit sorry," he went on, slamming on the brakes to avoid hitting the car in front. 'He's got a nice dick' Marcia was thinking as she eased it out of his trousers. It was gorgeously hard, nice and smooth, fairly long and encouraging thick. It was very warm and she could feel it throbbing. She closed her hand round it, gripped it lightly and ran up and down its length, slowly. "Oh yes, that's great." "So IT likes the woman's touch does it Gareth?" she asked as the car once more came to a halt in heavy traffic around Swiss Cottage. "Does it? IT loves it," he replied, leaning forward a little and reaching out with his left hand. "Good," Marcia muttered, enjoying touching his cock and the sheer sordidness of what she was doing. She momentarily wondered whether she could go down on him and give him a blow job, but guessed the steering wheel would prevent that. Gareth got his hand on Marcia's leg, just above her knee. She had smooth, tanned skin. She liked the feel of his warm hand on her. He started moving up wards. 'I'll fucking well find out about those panties now,' he thought as the side of his brushed against the hem of her skirt. Just then, the lights changed and he had to change gear so he had to move his hand away. Marcia though kept rubbing his cock. Not too hard so that it would make him cum, but firmly enough for him to feel it. "You've done this before, you're fucking great," he grunted. "Not in a Porsche," she smiled, adding, "It's too fucking cramped." "So if it's too cramped for this, I guess it's no good for a fuck either is it?" "Not a chance." "I'll have to get a Rangerover then." "Ah now you're talking," Marcia said, giving his dick a hard squeeze. They stopped again. Gareth was desperate to find out whether she had anything under the skirt. It had been short when Marcia was standing, laid out almost flat as she had to be in the low-slung car, with her legs bent a little and her body turned slightly to one side, it was miniscule. He put his hand on her leg again; it felt great. He slid it upwards, almost to the hem, but again he had to change gears. 'Fucking manual shift cars,' he thought, vowing in future to get automatics that were big enough to fuck in. Going along the Finchley Road, they picked up speed a bit, so Gareth had no chance to try to find out. In any case, Marcia had guessed what he wanted to do; she was usually one-step ahead of her lovers. As they stopped again, now near to Hampstead, he tried once more. This time they were still for some time. Long enough for Gareth to get his hand on Marcia's leg, long enough for him to slide it upwards and long enough for him to reach the hem of her skirt. It felt good. Marcia was aroused, she got that way quite easily, particularly when she was in an exciting situation such as this and especially when she had a cock in her hand. She was tempted to let him go on. It would be so nice to feel his hand on her pussy, pressure on her clit or fingers up her cunt. The sheer outrageousness of the idea of lying back in the seat, her knees bent, legs drawn and wide open, perhaps one wrapped round the gear stick the other pressed against the leather dashboard, had a very strong appeal. Being finger fucked as they drove up Haverstock Hill, played to her sense of extreme sex, but that was too extreme even for her and she grabbed his wrist. "Now, now, what do you think you are doing?" Gareth was now frustrated. He had a vile temper and lost it quite easily. He was used to getting his way and getting what he wanted. And right now, he wanted to shove his hand up Marcia's skirt and see if she was wearing knickers and she was stopping him "I am trying to get my fucking hand up your fucking skirt, what's it look like I'm trying to do?" She smiled. "I had gathered that Gareth and do you know what I am doing?" "Yes, fuckingwell stopping me," he moaned struggling to free his hand. "Well, big boy, if you look at the traffic you'll see why." "Oh shit," he grunted shoving his foot down and changing up to second. "I only wanted to find out if you were wearing anything under that sexy skirt." "Ah well Gareth, sometimes you don't always get what you want do you?" "Too fucking true," he said as they drove across the Heath and into Frognall. "How about we stop somewhere, we're quite close to where you live aren't we? "Stop on the Heath"? "Yes, it's nice and dark," he said pushing his still splendidly hard cock against the palm of Marcia's hand. "You must be crazy, it's full of gays, rampant ones as well, it's not safe. No, take me home." Hoping that meant that she would ask him into her house, he followed her instructions and wiggled the car through the narrow streets. "Turn left here and pull into the second set of gates on the left." He stopped the car on the short gravel drive, in the front garden that was full of shrubs and other plants, thankfully he thought a little out of sight from the house. Leaving the engine running, he put his arm round Marcia, pulled her towards him and kissed her, shoving his tongue deep into her mouth. "I've wanted to do that since the moment I saw you at Amanda's earlier on." "Good, it was nice," she replied taking his face in her hands and plastering little kisses all round his lips and chin. He pressed his left hand against her breast, finding and pinching her right nipple as once more he put his hand on her leg and started moving it upwards. She grabbed his wrist. "What's the matter?" Gareth asked. "As odd as it might seem to you Gareth, I don't like being touched up in my driveway in front of my own house." "Oh right sorry." "So Gareth you are going to see what you said you would love see." "What's that?" "Me getting out of this fucking ridiculous car." And with remarkable agility, almost total decorum and, from Gareth's perspective, undue haste, that is exactly what she did. "So do I get to come in Marcia?" "No, I have guests, but I have got something for you," she said turning and starting to walk up the driveway alongside a neat, waist high privet hedge. "And what's that?" he asked to her back that was moving slowly away from him and the car. Looking over her shoulder Marcia said just one word. "This," as she pulled the short skirt up almost to her waist baring her pert bum and showing her young suitor that indeed she was not wearing any panties. " Unless they had anything special on, such as going to a Grand Prix, almost anywhere in Europe, a big football match at Spurs or Arsenal, a wedding or Bar Mitvah or something very special, Gareth and a group of his cronies usually spent their Sundays getting stoned or drunk or both. He had bought a luxurious flat in Docklands, which was fairly convenient to the City where he worked as a trader, but more importantly was close to the posh restaurants and clubs of London's East End that he and his fellow city boys frequented. "I tell you it was the sexiest fucking thing I have ever seen." Gareth was slurring to his mates the following Sunday. "What was?" One of them asked. "Marcia's arse." "How do you mean? You didn't see it in the car did you?" "No, but she asked me in." "I thought you said she didn't and that she had visitors." "She did, but as she walked up the path she pulled her skirt and showed me that she was not wearing any fucking knickers." Why Bother with Panties? Ch. 02 "Bloody hell." "You jammy bastard." "That's moi," Gareth replied taking a big slug of Stolli. "So, come on what happened?" "Well like some fucking Russian gymnast Marcia was up and out of the Porsche without flashing anything, these posh birds can do that." "Yeah they're trained that way, look at Kate when she gets out of cars. You don't see either her tits or her knickers, more's the pity." "I still had me flies undone and dick out so I could hardly get out the car could I? I was fucking pissed that she was flashing her arse and walking away from me." "You wanted to see her cunt, I suppose." "Course I did and then I got lucky. She stopped and started to turn to face me in the car." "So did you see her pubes and cunt?" "No, the bitch. As she turned so she pushed the short skirt down as well." "Fucking cow," one crony said. "Bloody prick tease," another added. "Yeah but she came back." "I undid the window and she leaned in. I'd have got a right eyeful of her tits if she had any as she had a little pink sweater on that gaped marvellously." "You'd already had a feel though hadn't you?" "Yep and now I saw her nips, quite nice too. So I asked "What time will your guests go?" "There aren't any, I was joking." "And what about Stephen, when will he be home?" She replied, "He won't, he's away for the night." I said "Really?" and Marcia replied. "Yes, why, would you like to come in?" As if there was a chance in a million I wouldn't." "She's certainly some bird." "She's fucking amazing. She's been playing with me dick in the car for about an hour, flashes her bare arse at me and then sounds surprised when I want to go in her house. Anyway, I was out of the Porsche in a flash, doing me flies up on the way. "Of course, I would, what do you think?" I asked her whipping round the car and taking hold of her elbow." Gareth took another slug of vodka, looking around at his 'adoring public.' Although he was one of the youngest there, he was undoubtedly the leader. That stemmed from his spectacular success at trading, where, just in his second year, he was already making megabucks in salary and bonuses, the only figures that count for anything in the city. "So, things hotting up then," one of them said as another added. "Gareth coming up trumps again." "Anyway I walked alongside her across the driveway then up the short, cobbled path to the front door. She opened it and walked in ahead of me. The lights were all on. I asked why and she replied, "We have some staff, they put them on." I said isn't that a little dodgy and she asked "What?" I said well having me here with the staff. She replied, "Well they don't actually come into where we are going, follow me." "Bloody cool then," one of the gang asked. "As fucking ice," Gareth replied. "So where did you have to follow her, into the lounge or kitchen for a drink?" "No fucking way, I told you she was cool. We were standing in the hall facing each other when she told to follow her. Then as cool as anything she turned and walked away from me to the stairs. I followed right away. Like in old houses, this is Georgian by the way." "What's that then, Georgian?" One of Gareth's mates earning well in excess of two hundred thousand pound for gambling with our money asked? "Dunno, old I guess," Gareth offered. One of the quieter members of the group who had a degree and was quite bright, but earned less than a hundred grand said. "It refers to stuff built while several Kings called George were on the throne, between seventeen hundred and something and the early eighteen hundreds." "Alright fucking smartarse." "Well you did ask." "Anyway who gives a fuck when it was built, what you going on about that for Gal?" "Because, if you'll listen and shut up, I was gonna say, like many old houses it had a narrow staircase. Marcia started up the stairs and I followed her." "Oh I see the point now." "Right but what you don't see dickhead was what I saw." "And what did you see?" "Just about the sexiest fucking sight I have ever seen." "Go on then, what was it?" "Swaying from side to side just ahead of my face was Marcia's arse." "What in the skirt, how short was it?" "Fucking short. From below and behind it looked as though it didn't even cover her arse and you know what?" "What? Go on." "There were no panties or knickers as I had already seen." "So what did you see?" "Everything, the lot, all she had." "Fucking hell." "It was that and more. Her hips were sort of rolling from side to side. She had the sexiest fucking wiggle and her arse was swaying just in front of my eyes. I could see each cheek, her crease and the lips of her cunt as she raised one foot in front of the other." "You lucky, jammy bastard." "She walked up the stairs very slowly; she knew exactly what she was doing the sexy bitch. She made sure I got a good look." "And I bet, you dirty bastard, you did have a good look." "Of course I fucking did, what you think I am stupid. With the arse and cunt of this older woman just in front of me, I'd got me hard on back again. I was fucking rigid." "How old is she?" "Err not sure, mid to lat-thirties or so I guess, maybe early forties." "Mmm, fucking great, I love older women." "You had any?" "Well no, but I love the fucking idea of fucking one." "Why what's the appeal, I expect their cunts are all loose, give me a young bird with a tight snatch any time," Boggsy said. Gareth said in a worldly-wise manner as if he'd had loads of older women. "It's their experience, Boggsy, it's all that fucking they've had in the past, they've got no hang ups like young chicks." "Yeah I guess so." "Anyway we got to the top and she didn't stop, say anything or even look at me." "So what the fuck did she do?" "She walked across this landing her hands fiddling at her waist. As she opened a door and walked through it so she started pushing her skirt down." "Bloody hell, that must have been amazing." "It was. Slowly the waistband went up the swell of her bum and over each cheek until I could see all of her crack. She had a fucking tight bum I can tell you. She stopped for a moment with me behind her staring at her bum. She let go of it and it fell down her legs to the ground. She stepped out of it." "Hadn't she said anything?" "Up until then, not a fucking word since about following her." "Jesus." "She did then, though." "What. What the fuck did she say? She was standing just in her sweater was she?" "And high heels." "Oh my fucking Lord, so what did she say then?" "Well she looked right into me fucking eyes, smiled and said "Oh dear Gareth, it looks as though I've forgotten something doesn't it?" They all laughed. "Some cocky bitch eh?" "So what did you say?" "Actually, I was fucking nervous; I admit I was a bit out my depth." "You nervous Gal?" "Yes, other than a couple of hookers and some bird I pulled in Spain, I hadn't been with an older woman and certainly not one like her. I mean she's as rich as God, her husband's a top doctor or something and she's so fucking sexy, I wasn't sure how to handle things." "Yeah complicated I guess, I see what you mean." "I do as well, it's easy talking about what you're going to do with a bird, but when it's just you and her, it gets kinda awkward don't it?" "Well it did then, for remember she's my dad and his bird's friend as well." "Yeah of course." "Anyway I mumbled something about how nice that was and she said, "It seems to happen, particularly when you're around doesn't it Gareth?" I replied, lucky me then. She said "Yes I guess you are, want to get luckier." "What did she mean?" "I hadn't a fucking clue when she asked that, but said, yes please. What do you think she did?" "Dunno." "Have a guess, Bloggsy?" "Rubbed her pussy?" "Nope, Stu?" "Got your cock out again?" "No, come on Ox?" "Er said, want to fuck me?" "Nope. She was still looking at me when I'd said yes please. She smiled, reached down got hold of the pink sweater and in one movement whipped it off." "Fucking style that." "What a bird you lucky sod." "What did she do then?" "Well I went to move towards her, you know kiss her or something, but she turned away, almost ignoring me." "Fuck, bloody cheek." "No, she's just so fucking sophisticated. She knows what she wants and fuck everyone else. Don't arf keep you on your toes; you got no idea where you are with her." "So where were you with her then Gal? What did she do?" "Went and laid down on the bed and said, "You can get undressed now?" "So what, you had to strip off as she looked on did you?" "Yes." "Fuck, I'd hate that." "It was odd, I don't usually like the bird leading the way or telling me what to do." "No, nor me." "But you know, with Marcia, her being older and experienced and all that, it didn't matter." "What, you didn't mind her being in control?" "No, it was good." "So did you?" "What?" "Undress." "Yes of course." "How was it? Was it ok?" "Actually, it was fucking brilliant." * 'He really has got a great body,' Marcia was thinking as she watched Gareth undress. 'Mmmm, bigger than his dad,' she thought seeing the erection she'd fondled earlier in the car. With his clothes still on his cock hadn't seemed as large as it was now. 'Not donkey size,' she smiled, her fingers idly finding her nipple and rolling it between her thumb and forefinger, 'But ample for what I need.' "Come and lay down here Gareth," she said, patting the bed beside her and turning onto her side. She felt great pressed up against him. Thin and overly slim to his normal taste, it was more the way that Marcia writhed against him than anything else that made having her in his arms so spectacular. Marcia squirmed herself against his erection, which seemed to fill neatly and fully the gap between her pubic mound that she shaved and her navel. With a new lover, Marcia always worked on the basis that she wanted to captivate him, or her. That she wanted to make that person adore her, become hers, become dependent upon her and to fall for her; she craved being loved and adored. As a result, she really went for it, particularly the first few times she had sex with a new lover. Gareth got the full weight and more of this. He was amazed at the totally uninhibited way that Marcia's hands roamed his body, squeezing the cheeks of his bum, pinching his nipples, stroking his cock and cupping his balls. As she did this, she squirmed her body against his and kissed him with a depth and passion he hadn't experienced before. She used everything she had: lips, teeth, tongue, mouth, hands, fingers, nipples, thighs, knees and her pubic mound. All were sexual instruments, all gave pleasure, all were used to excite. And excite they did. Gareth had never been used or pleased as much as this. "I'm going to fuck you Gareth as you've never been fucked before," she said, kneeling beside him. A part of him wanted to stop her. She was taking over, real men, and certainly not macho city boys didn't' let women do that. Men were supposed to run things, be in charge and dominate the weaker women. That wasn't happening here though and that upset the normal balance of things between a city trader and a piece of cunt he was going to fuck. Unexpectedly to him, though, he was enjoying it. He liked her leading him, doing things first, being the aggressor, the dominant one. He liked Marcia rubbing his cock, stroking his balls and sucking his nipples. He liked her hands on his bum and her fingers in his crease. He liked it a lot, maybe too much for he was feeling perhaps a little too excited. "Oh fuck Marcia, slow down." "What's the matter Gareth?" "Nothing. Nothing its fine," he lied as she straddled him. "Oh my God," he groaned as she reached behind her and grabbed his cock 'She really is gonna fuck me' he realised as Marcia held his erection against her lips. "Ready, big boy?" She asked easing herself down a bit. "Oh fuck." "Does that mean yes?" Marcia asked, letting her body sink downwards and taking Gareth's cock deep into her open and eager cunt. "Oh fucking hell, no," he moaned as they both felt his cock exploding and shooting his cum all over her hand and bottom in a stream of premature ejaculation. * "I got undressed right in front of her. I had this giant hard on. "Oh yes Gareth, that's just what I want, you look so big," She said as I got on the bed." "She was ready then?" "Fuck me was she?" "So how did you fuck her?" "Well first time I........" "Ooooo get you first time, was there more?" "I didn't fucking leave until two I had her three times." "You fucking machine." "I certainly was that night. First time on her back with her legs over my shoulders, then we spooned and then we did it doggy, it was bloody brilliant." "And all really," Boggsy said, "Because she didn't wear knickers at the housewarming party. The Birthday Present. Older woman fucks younger man at a birthday party. "So been screwing the birthday girl have you?" Marcia said to Gareth as they were eating breakfast. It was at the last knockings of Sara's twenty first birthday party. There were two servings of bacon and eggs, with all the trimmings; the early one was between six and seven for those still partying and the later one, from nine onwards, for those who had lost the will to go on and had crashed in the marquee or the pool changing rooms where Amanda and Kevin had thoughtfully provided loads of sunbeds, loungers, lilos and blankets. Most had been occupied for the past few hour, some even for sleeping on! "Fuck off Marcia, what do you mean?" the, City boy derivatives trader in his early thirties snarled. "Come on don't be pissed at Aunty," the forty five-year-old immensely wealthy wife of one of the leading consultant psychologists in the UK said, smiling and putting her hand on Gareth's arm, after making sure no one could see them. "What got you so worked up about our Sandra Dee? Her stockings? Did you get your sweaty paws up her silky draws?" Marcia asked almost singing the words from Grease. "How the fuck did you know she wore stockings?" "You should know by now darling, Aunty Marcia knows everything, she wants to know." "And why would you want to know about Sara's stockings and whether I shagged her or not?" Marcia wasn't Gareth's aunt at all, but they had used that term ever since their first time, when Gareth had said "It is a bit like having sex with my aunt." He was her friend Amanda's husband's son from his first marriage. Close, but not web feet territory, and that had been sufficient for Marcia and him to have been having sex on and off for the last few years. She preferred young men to those her own age. "No particular reason," she said slipping her finger into his dress shirt, which had three buttons undone with his black tie draped round his neck. She slowly rubbed him between his breasts. "Other than checking up on my property." "I'm not your property." "Really?" Marcia said moving closer and staring right into Gareth's eyes. She pointedly slid one hand into the back pocket of her very tight, black, shiny trousers. That caused the front of her button up dress shirt, which she had worn with black tie earlier, to gape open. Whereas, Gareth had left three buttons undone, Marcia's shirt had four unbuttoned. That meant the shirt was open to more than half way down between her breasts. She was not well-endowed in that area, having only small mounds capped by large, dark nipples, so she could get away with showing so much. That is until the shirt gaped, then whoever was looking would see all and that is precisely what Gareth saw. As she saw him looking right where she wanted him to, she again glanced round to make sure there were no onlookers. Reassured, she moved even closer. She caught his wrist with one hand and placed it on her pert, shapely, nicely rounded bum. She slid the other down his front and rubbed his bulge, as she leaned forward and kissed him. As she had anticipated he, firstly stroked all over each orb and then squeezed her bum and kissed her back. "Ok you bitch," he grunted, recognising that she was the only woman that could always get to him. All the others, his age, younger, older, models, hookers, fellow city traders and bankers, starlets and MILFs, he could take or leave. With Marcia, he always came back for more. * Marcia didn't wear underwear. Having small tits she rarely bothered with a bra, and felt that without panties she, not only got rid of any ridges under the ridiculously tight jeans, trousers and skirts she favoured, but she also gained such fantastic sensations. As she had said to Amanda, who was Sara's mum and Gareth's step-mother as well as being one of Marcia's best friends, although Marcia occasionally also dallied with Amanda's husband Kevin, but then as she thought to herself, 'who hasn't?' "It's like walking around with a vibrator up your cunt." Marcia and Stephen had a pretence of a happy marriage. As it happens they got on quite well, for neither really believed in love, but there it ended. True, they attended many functions together, both the medical ones that resulted from his job and the charity, hunting, showbiz, sporting and celebrity ones that came about because of Marcia's family connections and massive wealth, now well into the billion plus in sterling. Marcia had never been faithful to Stephen, but until recently Stephen had not thought of straying. Well he did have hookers and escorts, but they didn't really count, did they? Marcia had a number of fuckbuddies, had a penchant for young guys, particularly golf and tennis coaches and ski instructors and recently, she had found herself being more and more attracted to women, particularly younger ones. Although she had absolutely no evidence whatsoever, Marcia was always thinking that Stephen was having affairs. After all he was lovely. Tall and slim with long, blonde hair turning grey, he had a great body and dressed immaculately managing to be cool and stylish without seeming to be trying to look too young. Not an easy knack, but he pulled it off both with formal and casual clothes. Most of her friends told her how lucky she was to have such a gem. Marcia, with her lack of empathy and understanding of other people, ascribed her own standards and morals to her husband and to others. Stephen, a psychologist understood such thinking, after all that was what he was trained to do. He accepted that his wife would assume he would behave as she did, but until he had recruited Kate, it hadn't really entered his mind, despite many opportunities. He had come so close with Kate, his Medical Assistant for a couple of months. So close that they had ended up in a hotel room masturbating, but not fucking. The most uncanny aspect of his brief relationship with Kate, was how Marcia seemed to know his feelings about his assistant; almost before he did. She used those in bed. Several times, after an emotionally steamy day with Kate, Stephen would get into bed with Marcia. She would somehow sense his aroused thinking about Kate and her full breasts and slightly oversized bum and would start talking about her and them. That would arouse Stephen even more and several times as he fucked his wife, not only did he make out it was Kate, but Marcia made out she was her as well. "Feel my big tits Stephen," she would moan as he slid into her and "Oh yes Stephen you're making Kate cum" as he gave her an orgasm. Yes, not only did Marcia not wear underwear, she also had an unusually voracious sexual appetite, a wide range of sexual interests, well fetishes really, no discernable morals at all and a totally selfish approach, "If I want it, I'll have it and fuck the consequences." Marcia lived for the buzz as only the very rich are able. Why Bother with Panties? Ch. 02 * "Follow me, big boy," Marcia said removing her hand from Gareth's bulge, which rather disappointingly hadn't started to grow. "Where we going?" "To fuck, where do you think? That is, of course, if you're still able to after sticking it to Miss Goody Twoshoes, the blessed Sara." Marcia replied leading him out of the marquee and round the side of the garage. "You'd be surprised at her," Gareth replied. "Darling, I was totally gobsmacked when I saw her stockings, is there more to know?" "Maybe," Gareth said, unusually for him feeling protective and warm towards Sara. Usually when he'd fucked a bird he didn't want to know and didn't care what happened to her. Sara seemed different somehow, but then half-sisters probably do. "So where we going." "Well, the lovely Amanda provided some of her closest friends, including moi of course, with a refuge. A little dressing room and loo for our exclusive use." "Mmmm, handy." Walking up the narrow and rather steep back staircase, Gareth's face was only inches from Marcia's undulating arse. He never ceased to be amazed at its awesome shape and her wiggle, which was the most erotic he had ever seen. He ran his fingers over the two orbs. "Still no underwear, M?" "Of course not, you know I don't wear such stuff, prefer the freedom me." The mere thought of her nakedness under the tight trousers and her bare tits in the shirt started to get him hard. When Marcia had come on to him, Gareth had wondered whether he'd be able to perform again, for he and Sara had gone back for the second half a couple of hours after their first sex at around two. Those fucking stockings had a lot to answer for, he told her as he shagged her on all fours. Luckily, he'd prepared well for the party and had taken it fairly easy during the early stages. Unlike most Thursday nights, when the city boys partied in London and any other night when they could justify two hundred pound bottles of Chateau Petrus, a few Doms, a visit or two from their friendly dealer, often a few hugely expensive hookers and a ridiculously expensive dinner as entertaining clients, Gareth had been careful. He hadn't popped a cocktail of pills, snorted numerous lines of coke and shoved any alcohol put in front of him down his throat. So he had got through Friday ok and he had had carefully planned Saturday. At seven he'd take two Cialis on the basis that their effect would last longer than the 'not to be exceeded' dosage of 'no more than one in any twenty four hours'; all his mates and fellow budding masters of the universe and he knew such warnings were for the birds not for real men like them. He took them as a 'just in case' not, of course, because he needed them, but then all the other stuff he took could slow a bloke down a bit, the city boys always told each other. And in any, case wasn't that why pills were invented, to make up for where real life disappointed or let you down? Apart from the Champagne before dinner and whilst fucking Sara, twice, and the white and red wine at dinner, which didn't really count, being wine, he'd been careful and not mixed his drinks. He was pretty sure he'd stayed on vodka all night, but maybe there was a dram or two of single malt and did he have a Henessy XO or two after dinner? Still, as a near million a year trader he had been trained very well in being able to take his drink, he hardly ever fell ever and couldn't remember the last time he passed out. What with the booming footsie, the crashing oil price, the manic trading and the total lack of any knowledge about what was happening by anyone, least of all Gareth, who ran a ten man desk, he'd had a tough week and could well have done without this party. Hence, his careful preparation; you didn't earn a mil a year without being able to plan, he always told his team. So, just after arriving he had taken a couple of qualludes and during the evening he had a few lines. But then, everyone was, weren't they, well at least the twenty or so city boys at the party were. He was quite proud of himself, therefore, after Marcia had locked the door behind them, to feel his cock growing as if to order. True, he was laying on a small bed; true, she had taken her shirt off and let him suck her fucking amazing nipples; true she had stood before him in the tight, shiny, black trousers and gradually eased them off revealing her nakedness under them; true she had flashed her totally bald cunt at him and true she had then completely undressed him. 'Ok' he had to admit 'it was taking longer than normal.' 'Ok' he acknowledged, 'Marcia was working harder than normal, and 'for sure' he muttered, when with her mouth stuffed full of his cock, she'd asked, "Any good babe?" "Come on stud," Marcia whispered her tongue licking the length of his semi-hard dick as her finger found his anal hole. "You want that Gal?" "Yes." "Will it help?" "Sure?" "What are you thinking?" She asked, sliding her finger up to the first knuckle into his arse. "How I want to fuck you?" He replied diplomatically, scared to say that he was really thinking' I hope the fuck that I get hard soon." "I hope you aren't thinking of Sandra Dee are you?" "No, of course not, not with you here." "Yeah, right bollocks," Marcia said pushing hard with her finger so it slid well into Gareth's arse, hurting a bit, as it was intended, but also reaching his prostate. "Come on Mars, you know me." "Yes I fucking well do know you and know well that you're thinking of our little virginal nun in her sexy hold up stockings aren't you?" This was a tactic Marcia had worked with several men including her husband Stephen; find their real turn on and talk to them about that. "No, honest I was thinking of your arse in those trousers." "In them? What's wrong with it out of them?" Marcia asked wiggling round so her bum was closer to him. Her finger still up his arse. Gareth laughed, stroking her beautifully rounded bum that showed not the slightest hint of sagging or, worse, cellulite. She really did have a great arse, he thought slipping his finger into the crease between the perfectly symmetrical cheeks. Still not fully hardening, he was getting worried. He knew from previous times with hookers that he was in that vicious circle; it doesn't get hard, you think too much, then worry and that stops you getting hard. Twice he'd done that with thousand a night hookers, the bitches. "And what, may I ask is Miss Goody Two Shoes' arse like, or were you too busy with her lovely little tits?" "Both are great," he replied. "So you are thinking of her?" "No, I'm not." "I bet you would like her to be here right now wouldn't you? Like when we had that hooker, her and me fucking you?" "Sounds divine," Gareth grunted his fingers finding the wet warmness of Marcia's pussy. 'Fuck she really does have hot juices,' he thought wondering if the temperature of women's secretions varies very much. He made a mental note to give the new trainee that as a project to research, but was brought back to the wonderful reality of Marcia burying his cock deep in her mouth and sucking him long and hard. He still wasn't hard though, he guiltily realised. "I know you would like darling Sara sitting across your face right now, her young sweet cunt dropping its juices right into your mouth as I suck your cock and you suck her fucking nylons wouldn't you?" "Oh God," he grunted. "Would you like that Em? Would you like Sara to be here so you could suck her cunt.?" "I'd rather she was sucking mine, perhaps I'll ask her, you reckon she swings?" "No idea, but most girls do a bit nowadays," he said feeling those welcomingly familiar hardening sensations as Marcia continued. "Wouldn't you like to walk behind both of us with us wearing tight trousers and you fondling our bums? "Finding out neither of you was wearing panties?" He offered. "Yes both of us without our knickers," Marcia grunted between sucking and licking his cock that was now nearly there. "And then, Gary as we take them off you see we are both wearing stockings and we say, fuck us in these stockings Gareth." He was so relieved to find that he was now fairly hard and that Marcia had climbed onto the bed, got onto all fours and was saying. "Now fuck me, not Sara." She was soaking. 'But then' he smiled as he slid so easily into his third cunt, well second, but third time, of the evening, 'She always is fucking wet.' Briefly wondering if she really was a nympho, he pushed himself as far into Marcia as he could and then held his cock embedded right up her. Gareth then wrapped himself round her body his hands finding her almost flat tits, his fingers pinching her long, dark nipples. It felt good, it was comfortable, he liked laying like that the warmth of her insides gripping his pleasantly respectable erection, his fingers pinching and rolling her long, rubbery nipples. "Harder, cityboy," she grunted. He pinched harder. "No not there you fucking maniac, fuck me harder I mean. I thought you had gone to sleep." In fact, Gareth could easily have done that. What with all the booze, he had actually drunk several single malts and a few Hennessy XOs in addition to the wine and champagne, the line, or was it two, of coke Bret, a broker he worked with, had provided and of course the two shags with his half-sister, he was feeling tired. However, that he put down to the time, it must have been almost getting light, real cityboys aren't really affected by booze or drugs are they? He started to fuck Marcia. He started pulling almost all the way out then plunging himself all the way in. It didn't work properly. She was so wet and had her legs wide open so it was a bit like fucking a jelly, nice and smooth, but no friction, he thought. "Close your fucking legs," he growled. "Why?" Marcia asked knowing that many men, including Gareth's father Kevin liked her 'wide-open' position. "It's better," he slurred. Marcia could feel this going badly wrong. Gareth was far further gone than she had thought and she was worried he wouldn't be able to perform properly, he hadn't done very well so far. It happened sometimes she knew, but not to her. Marcia prided herself on that. In all the time she had been unfaithful to her husband by committing adultery, which she often giggled, coincided almost perfectly with the length of their marriage, for she'd had two little adventures on their six-week honeymoon, no man had ever 'lost it' with her. Gareth, though, had come near a couple of times and this was, by far the most worrying. She did close her legs a bit and that gave him more friction, but also applied more pressure to his cock, which was not fully hard. As he slid backwards after one deep thrust, he obviously went a little too far and he popped right out. "Oh fuck," he moaned grasping his dick and trying to find the way back in. "Come on Gareth for Christ's sake," Marcia rather unhelpfully urged. He began to panic. He didn't seem to be able to find the way in and, certainly, he couldn't get the angle right, that's not always easy when a woman's arse is pointing upwards. On top of that, the more he tried the more he softened and the more his head seemed to be losing touch with his body. Marcia felt and sensed what was happening. She had two choices, get dressed and walk out and maybe try and get another fuck from someone or, work on Gareth. Her manipulative mind weighed up the options. There were only two other guys there who she could reasonably proposition. Kevin, Gareth's dad, who she'd been having an affair with for a while. It was his and Amanda's party, though, and the chances of him being able to get away and spend time with her were limited and Ken. He was one of her husband's medical colleagues with whom she had bonked at a conference she had attended with Stephen, which was a very rare event. Again, though, she doubted if he would be able to get away from his fat, straight-laced shrew of a wife. So working on the bird in the hand principle' she decided to fuck Gareth. "Don't worry baby," she cooed turning and falling flat on the bed. Come and lay here next to Aunty. Marcia probably was a nymphomaniac. Certainly, she had a need for a great deal of sex on a very regular basis and, without doubt, when she started on a sexual jaunt there was little, in fact nothing she could think of, that could stop her. So now, naked, on a bed with one of her young studs, she smiled, and having had his dick in her, she had to finish. "Let Aunty get you hard," Gareth heard as if through a badly tuned microphone. This wasn't that familiar territory to her. Marcia enjoyed sex, not romance. She was in it for the buzz, not the tenderness, the satisfaction not so much the pleasure, the outcome not the chase. To her, the fuck was the objective not the foreplay, which often she forewent. On top of that, men normally followed her, they did as she instructed, she directed events not them. And she rarely, if ever chose extended foreplay. She realised now though, that was needed if she was to get what she wanted and that was for Gareth to fuck her, which was now an emotional as well as strongly physical need for her; she was like a junky needing that fix. She kissed him, she licked him she stroked his cock and balls and she nibbled his nipples. It helped, but not much. "I'm sorry Em, must be the booze," he slurred making her realise he was much further gone than she had imagined. "Yeah right, don't worry Aunty will sort it out." Even taking his cock deep into her mouth and stroking his balls had only a modest affect. She knew it just wasn't going to happen. "Turn over," she ordered. He did. She pulled his legs open, there was just enough light for her to see the deep crevice between the cheeks of his arse. She ran her fingertips along it, right across his anus. His body jerked. Gareth was now nearly asleep or unconscious. He could just about work out what was going on, but it was more like a dream than reality, nice though. Marcia leaned forward and ran her still hardened nipples over his back that felt nice, she liked it and did it some more. She wiggled downwards so that her tit was in his crease. She pulled his legs further apart. He vaguely felt things sliding across his back and now the cheeks of his bum, but couldn't quite make out what they were, fingers, a tongue, God knows, he didn't. He couldn't really work out what was happening and wasn't actually too sure whether he was with Marcia or Sara. Marcia took hold of the slight puffiness of the flesh of her tiny right breast. She squeezed so that the nipple, which is so disproportionately sized to the boob, stood out. It was like one of those things people use to ice cakes in those TV programmes she thought, as she moved the hard piece of rubbery flesh towards Gareth's arse. 'What the fuck's that?' He thought feeling the pressure on his hole. As he did he reached behind him and found a leg. It was bare, no stocking, so it had to be Marcia, he smiled, pleased with himself for being clever enough to work that out. She pressed more using her nipple to stimulate and slightly part his sphincter muscle. This was no longer, if it ever had been, for Gareth or them, no this was now for her, it was Marcia's show, Gareth had lost the right to be a partner, he was now her plaything. She reached between her legs and ran her fingers along her still nicely moist lips, lubricating her fingers. She then rubbed them right on his anus. "Oh uggh yes," he groaned. Marcia knelt behind him, she pulled him so he was now in the position she had been during Gareth's abortive attempt to fuck her, kneeling, head on the bed, legs open, arse in the air. She pressed with her finger, he grunted, she pressed harder, he moaned. Sliding her hand down her own body, over her hard nipples, small breasts, flat stomach and shaved pubis, she found her clit. 'It's the only way' she reconciled as her body reacted to her finger pressing right beside her clit, a not unfamiliar experience for Marcia masturbated most days. Pulling his cheeks apart with her other hand she buried her face in his arse. The bottom half of his body shook, 'even in a near unconscious state sex still works' she smiled pushing her tongue against his anus. It went in a little way, but not very far. What it did do though was add more lubricant from her spittle, some of which went slightly inside. That was needed for then, rather roughly as she aroused herself with her clit, Marcia shoved her finger up Gareth's arse again. "Oh fuck," he moaned pushing back at the emotionally unwelcome, 'I don't take it up the arse' I'm too macho for that, but physically very welcome sensation as his prostate muscle was sensitised. For several moments she finger fucked Gareth's arse, enjoying the sensation of being in control and loving the feelings from her clit. The additional sensations from his arse were too much for Gareth and they took him over the top. Not to an orgasm, but they tipped him from partial awareness to a near unconscious state, where his emotions shut down, but his physical reactions continued. It was too dark to see, so Marcia had to remove her hand from her clit and push it between Gareth's legs to find out whether what she had read on the net really did work. It did, he was rock hard. Quickly, she rolled him onto his front, a moan coming from his mouth as her finger slid out of his arse. She straddled him, reached behind her, grabbed his cock and effortlessly mounted him. She took his hands and held them against her breasts. And like that, without any knowing or emotional involvement from Gareth, she fucked him, until she made herself cum.