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Anyway, it now felt like a secret affair. I felt a bit guilty, but only a little bit. Barry was in town for a business meeting that day. He didn’t usually get this far north, but a potential new client was based in our city and Barry was meeting him that morning in a hotel on the outskirts of the city. He had asked me if I could get off work for the afternoon and meet him there in a room he had rented for the day. Debbie and I work flexi-time so it was simple to arrange for a colleague to cover for me for the afternoon. I left work at noon and stopped off in the town centre to buy something special to wear. It was safely hidden in my briefcase as I made my way home. I had arranged for Barry to pick me up in his car outside the flat I shared with Debbie at 2 o’clock, which looked like giving me an hour to get ready. It would have to be enough. In my tummy, the butterflies were going crazy. After what seemed an age, the bus drew up at my stop and I hurried along the pavement to our. I was ready for John, for anyone, to give me the attention I so wanted. I was ready to open my body and have my most intimate reaches explored and caressed. I was ready to use my body, my hands, and my mouth to give pleasure in return.Debbie began to lose her senses as she continued to masturbate in front of us. She blurted out a string of outrageous words. “Fuck her John. Fuck Susan. Look at her John. She’s horny as hell. She wants it. Look at that pretty red suit she has on. I bet she has lace panties and a lace bra underneath.” In a moment that could have been unnerving, John calmly questioned, “Lace panties, huh?” and I could only grin. He already had his hand in my skirt and probably knew the texture of my undergarments. I did like lace. I did like red. I thought they gave me power over a man. I thought they sent a signal that I was alive. And it seemed to work a lot. Unlike Debbie, John and I had partaken of just the right amount of liquid courage. We drank.
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