It was amusing to be dressed so conservatively, she thought as she walked down twelfth avenue. Her long black sheath was literally the most sedate dress she owned. The white shoes and hat looked more like a fashionable ensemble than the outer covering of one of New York's sexiest women. Her short blonde hair and the little smile didn't draw the leers she usually took such pleasure in, but admiring glances.

It wasn't a surprise. She knew she was beautiful, but it was almost always more important to her to be sexy. She let her hips swing blatantly and her pert face was relaxed and happy. Her big tits were hinted at by the flowing black material, and she still felt turned on. She had no idea why she had decided to change her usually blatant image tonight. But it was what she had felt like when getting home from her easy nine to five job as a Trust Attorney for a bank. She supposed she wanted to surprise her friends at Elmo's.

It was an upscale bar for people like her. Most of the women, and many of the men, were regulars, who were constantly horny. They were all friends, and you didn't last long if you weren't terrific in bed. There were always more fresh men attracted by the place's accurate reputation for pretty, available sluts, but for her, that was the attraction. You didn't have to worry about misunderstandings. Love was not an issue. Sex was.

Elly's mind drifted back to her ex-husband. They had gone through law school married, and he had always hinted that they should start swinging. But she had been afraid of the risks, and anyway enjoyed the wonderful orgasms he gave her, ardently, powerfully, and frequently. She had been pretty sheltered in her youth, and even in College had not been very sexually active. He had been the best lover she ever had, and all through law school she had seen no reason to look outside her marriage bed. The first day of third year, she had walked in on he and her best friend Sheila. Instead of being upset, her first hint of her true nature had hit her. Seeing her husband lying there while the brunette humped up and down over his body had turned her on. She had ended up letting him eat her cunt while Sheila came three times, each one looking better than any Elly had ever experienced. And her own cum that night had been world record.

But a year of gradually increasing the range of her sexual experience had taken her far beyond Ed's modest ideas about an occasional threesome. She had discovered an urge for novelty and strangers he called perverse. "You're a fucking nympho, you know that. A slut. I won't have it. This has to stop" She had called him a candy ass and twisted his arm behind his back with a karate move her Dad had taught her, and kicked him out. He made threats about publicizing her adventures during the divorce, but she laughed at him. "Do it, ass hole. Advertise for me. A little fresh action would be nice."

They ended up settling amicably, and she got on with her life. They had gotten it on together in the jury room fifteen minutes after the judge granted their divorce. "I never said you weren't a good piece of ass, Ed." His latest girlfriend had seen them emerge from the dark oak door, and walked off in a huff. "Looks like you need a new roomie, honey. Are her tits as big as mine?" He glared at her and chased off after the blonde everyone said was a less attractive version of Elly.

Five years. Amazing. And she felt great about herself, about her wild life, the wonderful, occasionally dangerous sex, the fun of being cool with Bank customers. Some of the wealthy men seemed to sense her sensuality, but she never gave them the slightest encouragement. That was the nice thing about New York, you could live a double life so easily. Thirty next month. Wow. But her figure was better than it had ever been.

She knew she wasn't a true nymphomaniac, because she had done some research. She often went two or three days without sex. But when she wanted it, she wanted it heavy, hard, raunchy, and as perverse as she could manage. Even her friends who had been slutty for years longer than Elly were amazed at some of her adventures.

Tonight, she particularly relished her lack of panties or a bra. Just the fishnet black nylons under the loose dress. Her pussy felt lovely, fresh and wet. The walking moved the dress against her pubic mound, which had only a tiny triangle of heavy dark hair, and was otherwise bald. She shaved every couple of days. Too much hair trapped the residues of heavy action, and could reduce the sensory pleasure of contact to her groin. She was proud of her pussy. It was very puffy, the labia fat and long. The inner folds peeked out of the long slit, and when she was the least bit aroused, her clit would protrude just at the top of the pink pocket. She knew it was strong, responsive, and incredibly flexible. She had taken cocks up to twelve inches long, horse cocks, and even a baseball bat once. But she could still enjoy a modest size, normal prick if it was used right.

She was a little worried about her ass hole. After the same baseball bat had been up inside her bowels, it had felt torn, and a little blood had leaked for two days. The doctor had said it seemed fine during her annual physical required by the bank, but still, she had been more careful lately. She loved anal sex, and on the rare occasions when she masturbated, she always used twin vibrators. Ass and cunt. She shivered with the thought.

Men and women often gave her compliments on her beauty, her boobs, her shape. But she thought her twat was her best feature. She loved showing it off. Usually, Elmo's patrons would see her in a short skirt that let her easily flash her sexy beaver at a moments notice. She thought her appearance tonight would amuse everyone. There was a thought. Maybe her sedate appearance could draw a rape effort. She liked those. She would always pretend to be horrified, and the savagery almost always gave her great orgasms. Or maybe a gang rape. She'd managed a couple of those, and they lingered in her memory, wonderful, almost continuous fucking on the edge of danger and real pain, but her ability to manipulate men had always kept things fierce but short of any damage. As she turned into the bar's door, she realized just thinking about those marvelous experiences had dampened her cunt.

As she stood just inside the entrance, letting her eyes adjust, voices of welcome called out. "Hey Elly. How's the bod." "Hi sexy. What's with the duds?" "Girlfriend, you aren't taking the cure, are you?" She recognized the voices, and smiled and waved in the general direction of each. Most were at the bar, but she knew from experience that if there was fresh meat, it would be important to avoid immediately joining them. You could never tell what someone new might like. As her eyes slowly let her see clearly, she realized that indeed there was substantial fresh blood tonight. It figured. Friday night, and the ones who thought they were studs were looking for a weekend thing. Though they were mostly duds, every once in a while there'd be one with stamina and imagination.

There was a table of big athletes, four guys, one of whom she recognized. They'd be looking for more than one girl, no matter how she tried to keep them all to herself. Maybe later in the evening. There were several couples, looking hungry. Threesomes got to be a bore after a while. One table had two guys and a woman, but she looked nervous. No amateurs tonight. Then she saw Lois.

Her friend the PR agent had three men who all looked like execs. Sometimes that worked, and Elly thought Lois wouldn't have brought them in if she thought they didn't have potential. Their eyes met, and they exchanged a smile. Elly headed for them.

"Lois, darling. What a surprise." "Elly, isn't this lucky. Let me introduce you to some clients of mine. They offered me a night on the town." She used just first names, as Elly sat down. "And this is my dear friend Elaine. She's a lawyer at Chase Manhatten." Lois was gushing, because she loved eating Elly's pussy. She was good at it, too. Two of the men ogled her, while the third stood up and shook her hand. He was going away the best looking of the three, but equally clearly the least agressive. Elly's heart sank. Too goddamn polite, she thought. Oh shit. This might have been a mistake. But the other two were leering.

They fell all over each other offering her a drink, but she just took a glass of the Chardonnay from the cooler on the table. It was a nice Montrachet, so she knew they at least had class, and money. Worst case, they would tire early, and she could get back here for something evil with one of the regulars. They resumed a conversation that had apparently been going on before she joined them.

"Damn guy can't keep it in his pants, and then when there is a real crisis, he can't command respect." "Yeah and I still don't think he understands markets. Always pushing liberal ideas." Lois laughed and throatily jibed "Women like a good looking guy, fellas. Don't alienate your companions." Elly saw the tall guy, Evan was his name, watching them all carefully. But he didn't say anything. It was a typical New York conversation.

The big, rough looking fellow beside Lois kept at the free market stuff, as though he had just discovered Economics 101. Finally, Elly pricked his balloon a little. "I watch stocks all the time, Brian. You can't have much confidence in some of the totally wacky things that happen with mergers these days. It's passing fancy, not an invisible hand." She was holding his eyes, but felt Evan's gaze on her. She caught a little smile.

They chatted and kidded for another hour, both girls guiding the conversation gently toward sex. Duane, on Elly's right, kept pressing his thigh against hers. But that was all, and it appeared they were all restrained. When Lois suggested having dinner at Elmo's, Evan finally spoke, in a baritone filled with confidence. "Please, let's try one of New York's finest. I'm sure they can find me a table at Lutece." Elly saw Lois nudge Brian, and he spoke up. "Aw boss, Lois wants to stay here. Maybe Elaine would like to go."

Elly felt a jolt in her stomach. The bitch. It was a setup. Her eye caught Lois's, and let her know it would be a while before she got near the hottest pussy in town, then smiled nicely. "Oh that sounds nice. I've never been there." Which was true, and the disappointment of missing out on the scene she had originally imagined was mellowed by the thought of a truly wonderful meal. God knows Evan was a presentable companion, and she was, after all, dressed for it. Probably why Lois had taken the risk of pissing her off.

Everyone seemed pleased. As he guided her out with a hand gently on her elbow, he whispered "Elaine, I know they want to get rid of me. If you'd rather pass, don't worry about offending me. I can't be your dream date." She was a little surprised at his perception, and his thoughtfulness was nice. She stared at him as they stood on the sidewalk, the noises of the city blaring around them. He was watching her seriously, his real feelings hard to read. "Do I embarass you, Evan?"

His face lit up, and he had a gorgeous smile, that well bred look giving way to enjoying her sharp response. He held her eyes. "Hardly, Elaine. It's just I'm a trifle elderly for Elmo's, and you. By no means. It would be a great ego boost to walk in and introduce you to Andre... Soltner." She cocked her head at him. It was tempting to go ahead and return, grabbing the jocks maybe, or a regular. On nights like this, the regular men often got frozen out. But now she was thinking how long it had been since she had a sedate evening, a nice meal, and some reasonable conversation.

She took a small step into the gap between them, so her face was just inches below his. Gee he was tall. Up close, she could see signs that he was indeed older than she had first thought, though he hardly showed it. Nearly fifty, she realized. "Have your way with me, sailor. Haul me to this den of iniquity." she breathed. They both giggled. She liked making him laugh. His arm went to her waist, and she reacted to the touch rather nicely. He looked around for the cab.

Soltner wasn't there, reported the Maitre'd, who obviously knew Evan."But I shall report your visit, Mr. Hughes. And your companion's beauty. I'm certain he will be sorry to have missed you." The table he gave them was perfect, out of the way yet as though they were in a garden. After ordering another bottle of the Montrachet, discussing the menu and placing their order quickly and efficiently, for both of them, he asked "Elaine, may I know your last name? And perhaps your phone number?" She chuckled. It was like a trip backwards in time.

"Graves, Evan. And please call me Elly." Her pussy was leaking, she realized. This guy was getting to her, which was totally unexpected. Her juice was leaking on her thigh, and it's musky odor contrasted with her flowery perfume. She wondered if he noticed. He was so formal, yet charming. She slipped into her bank mode, responding to his comments and avoiding much double entendre. Only when dessert came did he finally let his knee touch hers under the table. "Do you like dancing, Elly?"

Yes she did, but not what he meant. Elmo's had a section of the bar which rigged into a small stage, and she had danced naked there often, sometimes finishing with a bottle up her twat if she was trying to scandalize someone, or her friends. But he obviously hoped she would like a fox trot. Why not, she decided.

She had thought maybe Rainbow and Stars or something, but they walked two blocks down to a small bistro with Big Band music playing from tapes, and a range of people on a small dance floor. "Sorry, but I love this music. And it's the most danceable outside of country clubs." She found herself smiling at his completely unapologetic anachronisms.

Their first dance was the first time he realized she was nude under her dress. He missed a beat when her hips first contacted his thighs, and her huge loose breasts pillowed on his chest. When he stared down at her, she smiled prettily, letting a little sparkle into her eyes. He shut up during the dance, and stared at her when they sat down. "Jesus Elly." She found herself in conflict. She ordinarily loved to be scandalous, but wasn't sure how he would react, and she felt herself wanting him to approve of her, to like her. She wasn't sure what he was thinking.

But as she wondered what to do next, he started to talk. It was true confessions. Divorced. Didn't date much at home, hadn't wanted to up until the moment he had seen her smile. President of a machine shop. She had taken his breath away when they danced. She realized he thought all New York women didn't wear underwear. He had cursed because of his own desire. He finished with a rush, then sat there staring at her, expecting a reply, sympathy, questions. Instead, she whispered "Let's dance, sailor."

This time she got all over him. She opened his jacket so he felt her lush tits more plainly, and probed around for his cock with her pussy, while her thighs rubbed against his legs. She realized there was a little trickle of cream running down out of her cunt. She whispered in his ear "Smell me, Evan? That's me drooling from down below. It isn't a one way street." His face was flushed as he stared at her grinning up to him. Broke through his reserve, she thought. He was breathing hard. His cock was spasming into her abdomen. When they sat down, she saw him adjusting his member inside his pants, and she leered at him again. He laughed.

The speakers started blaring out a fast tune. He surprised her by getting up and holding out his hand. Then he started in confidently doing a jitterbug, rock and roll, whatever. She hadn't done this kind of dance for years, but after a minute began following him competently, and he turned her through moves that were new to her, but fun. Toward the end, she showed him a couple of the boogie grinds she had seen on old movies, wiggling her hips and shoulders provocatively. He smiled broadly, though keeping a conservative posture. It was really fun. The exercise relieved some of the sexual heat, and they were laughing and breathing hard as they sat down. He asked if she minded if he sat out the next one.

Suddenly, she started to cry, gasping wildly. Like a wave, a sense of loss of innocence, guilt, and doubt washed over her, as he put his arms around her and held her warmly. She had been reminded of her father, her mother, their pleasure in dancing together. Of a distant past when sex wasn't the only issue. She dimly thought she hadn't had that much to drink, what must he think, how did I get here. Tears streamed down her face. "I'm sorry, Evan. Oh god, I'm sorry." she choked out. But she nestled more firmly in his arms. They stayed like that for two more numbers, not speaking at all.

Finally, she looked up at him, and with a tender gesture he wiped the wet from below her lashes. "Elly, I can be a pretty good listener. Tell me what happened, when you want to." She choked again, and pressed up to kiss him. Mouth closed. Reaching out for love. She sucked in a breath as their lips came apart. She mumbled "Ladies room." and wrenched herself away toward the sign lit up in the back.

When she came back, at least the runny mascara gone, with fresh lipstick, he took a close look, and flipped a fifty on the table. "Come on Elly. Let's walk." He guided her firmly out the door. He was right. She was still shaky. He started left, toward a nicer section, but she pulled him wordlessly down toward second avenue, only five blocks to her loft. She pulled him quickly along, stumbling occasionally. When they turned onto her block, she stopped, as though being near her home restored some of her confidence.

"It's my house, the top one." she said pointing to the middle of the block. "I don't know what happened Evan. A... sense of the past just hit me. You, the dancing, that boogie." She sobbed again. "Goddamn it." She ran toward the loft, knowing he would follow. She had to get control back somehow. They both ran up the two flights of stairs, and she fumbled with the key. He finally took it from her, and smoothly opened the door. She stood there as it opened, his hand on the handle, squeezed back so she could get by. Instead, she threw herself into him.

She plastered her mouth to his, wide open, tongue frantically searching in his mouth. She was hanging from his shoulders, feet off the ground, crushing her hips to his, groaning uncontrollably. The door's spring pushed his shoulder, and they fell to the hallway floor, but he twisted so she landed on top of him. He was laughing throatily, but she kept his mouth surrounded by hers. He was wiggling, and she realized he had blocked the door's closing with his foot. She pulled away, and he wheezed "I dropped the damn key." They both started giggling. As she got up, she grabbed the key, and held the door. He struggled to his feet, and they both stumbled into the large, high ceilinged room.

She flipped on lights in the apartment she had bought in a private sale from one of her customers who had been forced to raise money quickly. She had decorated it in modern style, lots of indirect lighting, several sectionals, all with little clamps that allowed them to be secured to the couches so they became beds. It looked very New York, chic and sophisticated, but converted easily into a perfect setting for orgys. But that wasn't obvious. She felt happy she had cleaned up after wednesday night's scene.

She stood in the spot under a soft amber light that made her look good, still breathing hard. She let her purse drop, and her other hand was playing with the top button of her dress. "I... I'll go change." she whispered. He took two long steps and embraced her. "No, not yet. Let's sit down, Elly. Let's have something and talk." The word "gallant" jumped into her mind.

They ended up cuddled close together in a dim corner, with her curled up, legs tucked under, sipping brandy, and she talked about her life. Her youth, her parents. "You remind me of Dad, Evan. I hope you aren't offended, but some of your expressions, and your manners. Oh shit. Now you probably think that's why I like you. Maybe... I don't really know. But you're so handsome too, and I've been creaming for you all night. Oh shit." Then she rushed on, about Ed, her marriage, her awakening, hinting at her promiscuity. As she talked, she realized it risked whatever was developing between them, but it felt so good to confess, to surface it. And he was a good listener, soothing her when she was upset, holding her close when her voice would break.

"I haven't laughed like that, had fun like that, for years. It was as though I realized what I had missed. And now you've given me a wonderful catharsis." He smiled the nice smile, the one which was open. "I think you gave it to yourself, Elly. Maybe I was a catalyst, if you must give me credit." They hadn't kissed now for the whole hour. She'd forgotten about men who weren't horny, aggressive, pushy. She leaned up and pressed their lips together again, her mouth open slightly, waiting. Had she turned him off? Offended? Lost?

When she felt his tongue gingerly pass between her lips, it was as though an explosion went off in her mouth. She groaned as the kiss slowly grew into a passionate exploration of their mouths, lighting a fire in her body. Suddenly she was anxious. She jumped to her feet, and tore the dress off, popping a button as she did. He was mature, composed, smart, competent, well adjusted, controlled. But as her hands massaged her body erotically, holding her breasts, rubbing her thighs, she thought, this is my turf, darling. His gaze was leering, his mouth dropped open, and she saw an immediate reaction in his crotch." My god, Elly."

She knew what he saw. A slim, blonde woman with a flat, almost concave abdomen, a prominent navel, tits that stood out in voluptuous fullness, surprising on an otherwise slim, lithe figure. Fat pussylips below the dark brown triangle between firm, full legs, made glorious by the lacy fishnet stockings and the spike heels. Pretty regular features framed by tousled blonde hair. The face sensual in the dim light. He was fidgeting, staring at her. She felt herself preening to his admiration, as she looked down between her boobs to the tiny pubic tuft, seeing the dried tendrils of her cream on her right thigh. More was starting. Her hand snaked down there and rubbed it with two fingers.

She inhaled the odor, then offered it to him, holding her hand under his nose. As he sniffed it in wide eyed shock, and then sucked her hand, thrilling her, she whispered "Men get hard, darling, but women leak, when they're sexually excited. Do you like my smell, my body? Mmmmm, I see you do." She reached down and took his hand, placing it palm up on her cunt. She was curious what he would do with this access, but also wanted to feel his hand on her. A jolt of unexpected warmth radiated from this intimate contact.

He was already sweaty, with want and nervousness. This kind of reaction usually was a sign of inexperience, a dud. But she felt perversely happy she could now be the mentor, the teacher. To pay him back for the unique warmth of their evening together, for his kindness. She pulled him to his feet, feeling his need, and her own. She stretched up to kiss his quivering mouth, not too hard. "Evan, oh you nice man, take a deep breath. Look in my eyes. Don't think about my tits, my pussy. Another breath. That's it." As she started to unbutton his shirt, his hand came away from her twat to help, but she grabbed it and returned it to her seeping slit. "I'll do it, darling. Just keep your hand there."