Party Time_(2) by Kathy

I was loading the boot of my car with shopping that I had purchased from the supermarket and was bent over the boot of the car. The back of my short skirt was riding up so that the beginnings of my ass cheeks were on show as I only had on a small thong under my skirt.Just then a red classic corvette convertible pulled into the parking lot. It looked like one of those cars that guys spend so much time on. Engine sticking up out of the front of the cover and bright polish silver trim and pipes everywhere you looked. It was like right out from behind one of those tacky bikini models on the cover of a car magazine. It spoke money, both in raw cash and in leisure time to maintain that type of car.

For the moment I forgot about my shopping and watched as this guy, brimming with an air of self assured poise, jumped out of the convertible and walked into the store. With one glance he spotted me still near the sodas and made an abrupt change in direction to walk my way. As he got close he wiped the mop of wind blown blonde hair back from his eyes. Without a word he stood next to me. His tall lanky body hovered over mine as I stood between him and the refrigerator cooler of cold sodas. As he leaned over my shoulder, reaching past me for a can, he openly gawked down the front of my top and grabbed the first can his fingers touched.

A shiver travelled down my body as he continued to stare down my top.
Self-consciously I reached up and closed the open flaps of my top and held my hand there to preserve my modesty. This elicited an open chuckle from him and he smiled at me all knowingly. Turning away I walked over to the next row of selves and notice out of the corner of my eyes how he was checking out my ass with a leering grin. Nothing shies about this fellow I though. His open approval of my body brought a slight smile to my lips. Half disappointed and half-relieved that he was not following me around the store.

Grabbing an orange juice I headed back to the counter. No sooner than I got to the counter Mr. Mop top was standing beside me with a soda and a package of beef jerky. As the till girl rang up my order I could feel some fingers lightly tracing against my upper thighs. With my purchase done I headed outside.

Just before I put my sunglasses back on I could not help but to take a scan at Mr. Mop top car. I slowly strode by with my “Ain’t I pretty” leisurely walk past his car, knowing that Mr. Mop top would still be checking me out from the checkout counter.

“Ain’t she pretty” Mr. Mop top called out to me as he bounded out of the store in a disguised rush. For a moment I was not sure if he was talking about his car or mocking me. “Yes, it a really nice car” I said over my shoulder and kept walking slowly away. “Would you like a ride in it?” He yelled as I reached the end of the parking lot and began to turn down the sidewalk for home. Thinking I was being cute I gave him a little bye bye wave with my hand.

Hearing his engine roar to life I expected him to drive by and check me out once more. I quicken my pace and tugged by shorts down into place. Sure enough I heard Mr. Mop tops car behind me. Wondering how my ass looked from behind, I made it a point to sway my hips a little more than usual. To my surprise he did not dive by, but pulled up right along side me and slowed down.

“You did not answer my question?” He said with a boyish grin. Looking at Mr. Mop top, I speculated that he was at least in his early twenties. “WHAT QUESTION?” I snapped back still half annoyed at his persistence and half liking the attention he was devoting to me on an otherwise boring Saturday afternoon.

Figuring he was not going to stop cruising his car along the sidewalk till I talked to him, and worried about what the scene looked like to passing motorist,
I stopped and faced him. “Your car is very nice, but I am not about to hope into a car with a complete stranger” I said and wondered if he realized I was a 42 year old married women.

“I’m Tom,” He said as he applied his brakes and turned off his engine, then reaching his hand up as if to shake hands. Taking a step back I put my hands on my hips. “You’re still a stranger and I am not about to get into that car with you.”

“I having a party tonight, want to come?” He asked, ignoring my last statement completely.

“I won’t get into your car, because you’re a stranger, and now you expect that I will come over to your house just like that, I’m old enough to be your mother, and I am married as well.” I asked incredulity.

“Well, you don’t have to come as my date. Just show up. Bring a friend; bring two friends if you like. Matter of fact, if you have a lot of friends as good looking as you, bring them all, and it makes no odds to me if you are married if it doesn’t to you. And as for your age, I like older women, they know what they want and you have a good body. Just don’t invite guys unless they have their own dates. Parties are always hard enough to keep the girls Vs guys ratio within reason.” He said as he reached under his seat and took out a sheet of paper and held it up for me to take.

Tentatively I took the paper from his hands and looked at it. It was a flyer announcing his party and giving directions to his place. Just as I finished reading it, Tom-Mr. Mop top, raced his car’s engine twice without moving and then on the third time his car spun its back tires and he drove off as he called out over the noise “See you tonight”

From the directions given on the flyer, Tom lived on the outskirts of town. It was an area of former ranches that the rich had taken a fancy to. They would
Replace the modest ranch house with a large expansive mansion and leaving a few miles between them and their next door neighbour.

Toying with the idea of going to party, I called several friends to see if they had plans for later that night. I had already told Chas, my husband, and he was keen for me to go. He said he was keen to hear all about who I fucked that night. He doesn’t mind me being a slut which is good, as that is what I am most of the time. As I exhausted my address book of potential party mates, it seemed like I was the only girl in town not going out for the evening. Finally I happened upon Cindy. She was a really good friend a year or so back, but we had drifted apart, after chasing the same guy for several months. Neither of us got the guy, but it had strained the relationship and weakened the trust between us. As much from habit as liking each other, we still exchange phone calls every month or so to catch up and still talked like we were still friends if we bumped into each other at the mall or around school.

Cindy had a date for the night, but it was with someone she did not care for all that much. After telling her about how I met Tom, and about the car he drove, I explained how the party was going to be at one of the rich ranch estates on the outside of town and how all the guys at the party would probably be twenty something’s. She told me she would break her date and come along.

The idea of going to the party raised many questions. First was what to wear. I did not want to look like I was 42 among a bunch of probably younger guys in their twenties. I did not want to appear too much like a slut, yet I wanted to get a little more than my fair of attention from all the guys. The next surrounded Tom. Did the fact he ask me to the party mean I was his date? What would I do if Cindy made a play for Tom, or, how was I supposed to react if I showed up to the party and another girl was on Tom’s arm for the evening? I decided to worry about the first set of questions and play the second set totally by ear.

Cindy and I decided that we better meet several hours before the party to plan out our attire. Cindy was a 39-year-old hottie, who had developed cleavage long before the rest of our peer group. She was about my height and maybe a few more pounds, but those extra pounds where all concentrated in her 36D cup bras.
Combined with deep blue eyes and natural blond hair, Cindy looked like she walked right out of a Playboy centrefold.

We decided to caution on the side of being conservatively sexy. I wore a black pencil type skirt that hugged my hips all the way down to just about four inches my crotch. My top was a red satin top that flowed smoothly over my breast. I wore a half-cup bra underneath that allowed my nipples to poke out from underneath the thin satin. With a few buttons undone I could show an ample amount of cleavage, but could also adjust how much according to the situation at the party. Under the skirt I wore some self -supporting thigh highs black stockings. They would add some excitement if I decided to get flirted on the dance floor and allow my skirt to ride up high enough to flash some bare thighs and maybe a glimpse of my red satin thong that matched my top. That and my four-inch pumps and I was ready to dance the night away.

Cindy wore a tight fitting royal blue shift dress made of lycra-cotton blend that stretched over her curves tightly, with a low scooped neckline and a slit up the side to allow her legs to move for dancing. Just to draw a little more attention, she wore a heart shaped opal necklace that came to rest just at the top of her cleavage. With the slit up the side of her dress she decided that stockings would just look funny and decided to go bare legged.

We took Cindy’s car and decided to drive by the place to check it out, but we could not see much from the road. Cindy then drove down the newly paved driveway. As we got closer to the house we could see many add-ons to the originally modest ranch house. “Hurry drive past,” I screamed at Cindy and she stepped on the gas to zoom by and out the opposite end of the horseshoe shaped driveway. Several guys called out to us from the front of the house. Looking back I could see them waving their arms and could still hear “Come back, come back”