He paused at the door a moment, silently admiring her. She stood with her back to him, naked except for a pair of pure white panties that emphasised rather than concealed the enticing tautness of her arse. His eyes lifted, following the subtle curve of her back to where it disappeared below a cascade of dark hair. And smiled as he saw the tension in her, the knowledge of his presence behind her.

He stepped forward to stand a handsbreadth away from her, close enough to hear the slight raggedness of her breath as she stood rigid and waiting. Close enough to smell the intoxicating mixture of sweat and sexual arousal that her body was giving off. He lifted the blindfold and slipped it over her head, settling it across her eyes. She gave a little shudder at this first touch of his hands on her, but then seemed to relax as personal darkness enfolded her. He did nothing more for a moment, barely even breathing as he waited. Then he lifted her hair at the back and kissed the back of her neck. He ran his fingertip lightly down her spine, from the nape of her neck down to the demarcation line of the waistband of her panties, and was rewarded with a gasp from her as she let out the breath she had been holding.

He stepped back, and walked around to her front. Stood there letting his eyes take in all of her. The pretty face, partly concealed by the black silky blindfold.  The small breasts, flat muscular stomach, long slim legs. He could sense the tension building in her again as he watched her, as the silence and the stillness dragged on. Her entire body alive with the need to locate him, for him to do something. Anything. But still he waited, letting her need slowly fill her mind and dominate her senses.

When even he could wait no longer, he took a step forward. Something warned her, some one of her heightened senses detecting his closeness, and she squared her shoulders and looked up to where she guessed his face must be. He smiled and raised his finger to the hollow beneath her throat, the fingernail just barely touching her skin. Slid it downwards. Between her breasts, over the clenched muscles of her stomach, across her navel. And then eased his hand inside the front of her panties. Down to between her legs, and felt the moistness there. Slid one finger inside. She swayed a little where she stood, but made no sound.

His other hand he suddenly plunged down the back of her panties and gripped both cheeks of her small arse in his one big hand. Used that grip to pull her towards him, and closed his lips over hers.

*

He broke off the kiss, but still held her close. Her breasts pushing into his chest, her hips against his. He eased his hand from the front of her panties and held it to her face so that she could smell her own arousal. He touched the finger to her lips, and her tongue darted out like a small frightened animal to taste it and then disappeared as quickly. A slight pressure and her lips parted. She sucked on the finger eagerly when he pushed it into her mouth, and he knew that behind the blindfold her eyes would be closed as she tasted herself.

Pulling the finger free, he wiped it dry of her saliva on her breast and then withdrew his other hand and stepped back. She tottered, but righted herself and returned to the same position she had held when he had entered. Taking her hand, he led her out of the room and down the hall. Into the kitchen and to the back door. He opened it and felt her pull back, but he kept a tight grip on her hand and almost pulled her through and into the daylight outside. He let her stand there a moment, letting her feel the sun and the gentle breeze on her bare skin. She was shivering, but it wasn’t from cold on this warm summer’s day.

He led her out to the garden and onto the grass. Walked her around with several changes of direction to disorientate her so that she would have no idea where they might be in relation to the house. Her only clues the sun that still touched her skin and the grass beneath her bare feet. When he was satisfied, he let go her hand and left her there. Retreated to the bench under the apple tree and sat himself down. He took out a packet of slim Dutch cigars and lit one, seeing her perk up at the click of the lighter. She knew he was still there now, still somewhere in the garden and watching her. She squared her shoulders and straightened her back, but she was trembling even as she put on this act of bravado. Wondering who might be watching from any of the three houses and gardens that overlooked this one. Wondering which of her neighbours, male or female, whom she saw each and every day might be witnessing her standing there in the garden blindfolded and naked all but for a pair of white panties.

He sat and smoked and watched, and noted the little things. The stiffness of her nipples, the moist patch at the crotch of her panties and the rapidity of her breathing. She was excited by this, despite the fear and the embarrassment. No, he thought with a smile, because of them. It told him what he needed to know.

A neighbour appeared at an upstairs window of her hours, an old woman who passed her time taking an inordinate amount of interest in the business of others, and gave him a wave. He waved back, and stubbed out his cigar on the side of the bench. Rising, he went back to her and took her hand again. And led her back indoors from the one spot in the garden that was not overlooked by anybody.

*

He took her back into the room in which he had first found her, and left her where she had stood then. She was still trembling from her experience in the garden, and he could imagine how her stomach must be churning at the not knowing.

Crossing to the cabinet, he searched through the drawers until he found the digital camera. He checked the battery and then stood in front of her, raising the camera to his eye. The first click made her jump, and he was amused to see her tighten her stomach muscles and pull her shoulders back as she recognised the sound. Whatever, she would want to look her best. He took a couple more, varying the angle.  Then moved to the side for some profile shots. Before going behind her, he moved closer and laid a palm on her stomach. Felt the tautness there. Brushed his hand upwards towards her breasts, to the hard nipples. Then kissed her cheek lightly and dropped his hand. She gave a little murmur, a soft release of breath as her breasts pushed forward as if searching for his hand again.

He stood behind her and took two quick pictures of her rear view, and then lowered the camera to reach forward and take hold of the waistband of her panties. He pulled it down to just below her arse cheeks, and stepped back again to take two more. Not bothering to check them, he walked over to the computer and connected the camera to it. Set it to print out the results of his efforts, and left it going as he returned to her.

“We’re going out,” he said, speaking for the first time since he had entered this room to find her waiting for him. “Wait here while I go select what you are to wear.”

He paused at the door to look back at her. Her bare arse, framed by the white of the panties, made her look very vulnerable. And enticing, but that could wait. Smiling to himself, he climbed the stairs to the bedroom.

*

Up in the bedroom, he opened up the wardrobes and sifted through the contents. A long flowing peasant skirt in shades of blue was the first item to be pulled out and thrown on to the bed. Followed by a plain white blouse with a wide collar. Then he began to look more carefully, to delve deeper. A short tight black skirt that she had bought for a “vicars and tarts” party a few years back and had never worn since. A thin halter top she reserved for the beach on holiday. Finally he pulled out her underwear drawer and emptied its contents onto the bed. He pushed aside the bras, and sorted through the panties quickly until he found a couple of suitable pairs. He stuffed a blue thong and a pair of see-through lacy red panties into his pocket, and then scooped up the rest of his choices.

Downstairs again he found her just as he had left her, standing in the middle of the room with her arse still bared and the blindfold still in place. He put the halter top and short skirt into his briefcase before laying the blouse and other skirt over a chair. Then he stood before her and raised the blindfold. She blinked a few times in the sudden light and looked up into his face.

“I thought it was you,” she said.

He nodded, not sure whether to believe her or not.

“Put those on,” he said, indicating the clothes on the chair.

She looked, and he saw a relief at the conservatism of his choices. He intended that relief to be short-lived. As she went towards the chair, she reached back and pulled up her panties. He closed the distance between them in one stride and slapped her sharply across one arse cheek. She yelped, but then stood meekly as he pulled them back down again.

“You do only what I tell you to do,” he reminded her, a tone of rebuke in his voice. “Nothing else.”

“Yes, Sir,” she said, using the title for the first time.

He watched as she stepped into the skirt, and then picked up the blouse. She looked around for a bra, but seeing none said nothing and put on the blouse and buttoned it up. She turned to face him, eyes downcast.

“Good,” he said shortly, picking up his briefcase. “Get some sandals to wear and then follow me.”

Outside on the drive the car was ready and waiting, her husband at the wheel as arranged. She and he exchanged glances as she climbed into the back, but no words. Getting in beside her, he tapped her husband on the shoulder as a signal to move off.  

*

They took the motorway into the city, a journey of  around ninety minutes, and as soon as they were onto it and speeding along in the middle lane he reached across and unbuttoned her blouse. Pulling it out of her skirt, he spread it so that her breasts were fully exposed. Her eyes darted from side to side, to the cars passing and being passed. He took hold of her skirt and rucked it up, revealing her long slim legs. Settling back into the seat, he ran a hand slowly up her thigh until he felt the silky touch of her panties. Slipping a finger in between her legs, he pushed it against her and felt the moistness.

“Keep your eyes on the road,” he ordered, as he caught her husband watching them in the rear view mirror. “We don’t want any accidents, do we?”

For the next hour he sat gently rubbing her pussy through the thin material as they steadily closed the distance to the city. At first she was managing to keep herself still, but it didn’t last. She began to squirm on the seat and push herself down on his finger, soft grunts escaping from her lips when she could hold them in no longer. A few faces in passenger seats turned to them as they passed, but the ever changing pattern of traffic ensured that they gone before any but a fleeting glance of the topless woman sitting in the back.

“Let’s hope we don’t get caught in traffic,” he said with a chuckle, eliciting a groan from her that was far more excitement than fear.

As the city came into view, he removed his hand from her groin and delved into his briefcase. Watching her face, he brought out the skimpy top and short black skirt. Then he took the two pairs of panties from his pocket, and considered them both before choosing the thong.

“Get changed,” he said, throwing them into her lap.

She looked down horrified at the clothing, and then seemed to steel herself. She hunched down to remove the blouse and replace it with the top. When she sat up, he could see that it barely covered her breasts, and was tight enough for her erect nipples to show through clearly. The only times he had seen her in it before had been over a bikini top at the beach, and he thought this a definite improvement. She pulled off the long skirt and reached for the other one. He placed a hand on her arm to stop her, and indicated the thong with the other. Obediently, she lifted her backside off the seat to pull off the white panties. This wouldn’t do her husband’s seat covers any good, he thought with another smile.

She sat there a moment, naked in the speeding car except for the halter top, and looked into his face. A touch of defiance, a “see how much I care” look. He unhurriedly let his gaze run down her body, The barely concealed breasts, the tight flat stomach, the thick bush of dark pubic hair that her husband told him she trimmed but never shaved, the sleek legs, the dainty little feet in the sandals. In his own time he looked back up at her face, and then out of the window beside her.

“Traffic’s slowing,” he said.

She followed his look, and then blushing furiously pulled on the thong and the short skirt.  The she sat back, looking nervous, as they entered the city and made their way to the business district. Her husband pulled the car over where directed. It was lunchtime, and the streets were busy with office workers.

He reached across her and opened the door. “There’s a small park just around that corner,” he told her. “Wait for me there by the gate.”

Reluctantly, she put one sandaled foot out onto the pavement. Then the other, and climbed out trying to hold down her skirt. He reached over again and closed the door behind her. locking it. She was already attracting attention, not all of it approving, from the conservatively clad office workers. She glanced back in the car, but then headed off down the street. He could see that the skirt was so short that as she walked the lower curve of her arse cheeks could be seen intermittently.

“Do a couple of circuits round the block,” he told her husband. “Then drop me off at the park.”

*

She was standing by the gate as he had instructed, seeming to be trying to ignore the looks she was being given. Holding back a moment to watch, though, he noted her reaction to each man who passed and looked her up and down. She would look away, as if oblivious, but as soon as he had passed she would glance his way and struggle to keep down the little satisfied smile. Being desired was something she enjoyed, and he could see that being thought something of a tart did nothing to dent the feeling. Rather, it enhanced it.

He crossed the road and stood in the gateway looking around the park. There were a number of office workers spread across the grass taking in the sunshine, and several shaded benches left vacant. He picked one that looked suitable.

“You don’t know me,” he said, just aloud enough for her to hear. “Give me a moment and then follow me to a bench and sit beside me.”

He headed for the bench he had selected and sat down to take out a newspaper. There were half a dozen people on the patch of grass in front of the bench, all of them young to middle-aged men. He opened up the paper as she followed. An instant before she sat, his arm shot out and he tugged up the back of her skirt so that the bare cheeks of her arse landed on the wood of the bench. The action also pulled it further up her thighs at the front, so it became more a pelmet than a skirt.

“Take your sandals off and put them on the bench beside you,” he told her from behind the paper.

She bent over to unbuckle them, and, masked by her body from the men now pretending not to watch her, he slipped his hand behind her. Pulling loose the back strap of the thong from between her cheeks, he pushed his middle finger between them and felt for her little puckered hole. Finding it, he teased it with the tip of his finger while she finished unbuckling the sandals and slipped them off her feet. He quickly extracted it as she sat up abruptly so as not to be trapped. A bit naughty, he thought, catching her eye and a little gleam there. She put the sandals beside her and stretched out her long slim legs, wiggling her toes. The men were no longer pretending not to look.

“Open your legs,“ he ordered her, still concealed behind his paper, as she brought her feet back down to the path. “Give them something worth looking at.”

He caught her hesitation as he took it up a notch. The thong left little to the imagination, and her skirt was useless the way it was now for covering anything. He was moving her from teasing to displaying, and he waited patiently and silently as some inner debate went on inside her head. Until her thighs slowly moved apart.

The men were openly shifting about to get a better view, although still managing to keep a few shreds of dignity as they did it. She sat there, legs a little apart and watched them. Feeling her own power.

“Are you wet?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said, breathlessly. “Very.”

One of the men, a flash-looking young one, got up from the grass and sauntered over. Sitting next to her, on the other side, he laid a hand on her thigh. Lowering the paper, he turned his head to stare at him.

“Don’t push it, mate,” he told him in an accent that betrayed his less than affluent background. “Shift your hand or I’ll be shifting it for you.”

The hand was quickly removed, the accent and the look enough.

“Good lad,” he said. “You should learn when to just enjoy what you’re given.” He threw the newspaper into his lap. “Here, have a read to calm yourself down. No page three girls, I’m afraid. Not that sort of paper.”

He stood and gestured for her to follow. She picked up her sandals and trailed after him out of the park.

“I fancy a film,” he said. “Let’s see what’s on.”

“May I put my shoes on first?” she asked meekly.

“No.” He took them off her and dropped them into a bin. “Come along now.”

He took her around the streets, she padding along beside him on her bare feet, until they arrived at his intended destination. It looked very little like a cinema, a grimy  boarded-up shop with a poky entranceway. He pushed open the door and she followed him inside. A man stood behind a counter beside steep stairs leading down to what would be the basement. He signed them in, and handed over two fivers.

“After you,” he said to her, gesturing towards the stairs.

*

He followed her down as she tentatively descended the steep staircase. At the bottom, a curtained entranceway led into an area with a dozen rows of seats set before a screen. On the screen two men and a woman were engaged in a drab depiction of joyless copulation. In the nearly deserted seating area were five men of various ages, as joylessly watching. This was going to be their lucky day, he thought.

He directed her to go around the front, passing in front of the screen, and then back up to the rearmost row. It successfully gained the attention of the five-man audience, and by the time they were both settled into their seats not a one of them was still watching the screen. One of them was further along the same row, and already had his cock out and was stroking it as he stared at her. The others were turned in their seats, watching them.

“Take off your thong and go give it to him,” he told her, indicating the wanker further along the row.

She gave him a glance, and then silently lifted her arse off the seat to remove the thong. She got up slowly and padded along the aisle on her bare feet – making him smile at the thought of the stratified layers of dried cum on which she walked - until she was two seats away from the wanker. She practically threw the thong at him, coming back quickly without stopping to watch him catch it and bring it to his lips before wrapping it around his cock and carrying on wanking.

“You’re spreading happiness wherever you go,” he said with a smile as she sat back down again. “Put your feet up on the chair in front.”

She lifted her legs and placed the soles of her feet on the chair back in front of her, showing her long slim legs to the very best effect.

“Further apart,” he ordered.

She eased her feet to either side, and glancing down he saw her thick bush of pubic hair fully exposed. Only visible to him from here, but the others would be using their imaginations having seen her remove the thong. Around the small auditorium now, hand motions were pretty universal. He glanced around, his face hard, to ensure that they were all keeping their distance. Like with the city gent in the park, his size and appearance were enough to subdue them. A gang bang was not on the menu. 

Reaching over, he lifted her top to her armpits to reveal her perfect little breasts. Some of the hand motions became almost frantic, and he spotted the wanker along the row cumming across the neighbouring seat with the thong still wrapped tightly around his cock.

“Take out my cock and stroke it,” he told her. “We leave when I cum.”

His eyes on the screen ahead of them, he felt her fumbling with his flies. And then the cool touch of her long slim fingers on his hardening cock. Settling back, he left her to it as he watched the manoeuvrings on the screen. It was low quality stuff, barely erotic, but his attention was focused on what she was doing anyway whatever his face and gaze might suggest. He only deigned to look down at the point he felt himself cumming. He watched himself spurt over the chair back and her hand, and then nodded approvingly.

“Good girl,“ he said. “Lick your hand clean.”

She raised her right hand to her face and quickly licked his cum from her fingers.

“Time we were going,” he said, tucking his cock back in his trousers and zipping himself up.

He got out of the chair and moved to the end of the aisle and on to the curtained doorway. Only then did he turn his head to look at her. Her top was still pulled up above her breasts, and he gave her another smile. The lesson of the panties back at her home had not been lost on her. He reached over and pulled it down before leading her back up the steep staircase.

Outside, her husband was waiting with the car.

“The hotel,” he told him as they climbed into the back.

*

It was getting dark as they pulled into the hotel car park, her husband parking the car in a secluded bay.

“Go check the room,“ he told him, and then waited until he had left the car and headed over to the hotel building.

When he looked at her, he saw she was trembling. ”What’s the matter?” he asked. 

She looked out into the gathering dusk, and gave a shrug. “It’s all just hitting me,“ she said. “Did I really do all that?”

He chuckled. “Nobody else,” he told her. “Was it as you expected?”

She shook her head, and then turned to look at him. “Nothing like,” she said with a sigh. “Nothing like at all. You wouldn’t believe how my stomach was churning.” An almost shy look his way. “Or how wet it made me.”

He smiled, and casually reached forward to put his hand between her thighs under what little covering the skirt gave her. She gasped as his fingers touched her, closing her eyes. Withdrawing his hand, he looked at the glistening juices covering his fingers.

“I believe you,” he said wryly. 

He smeared a wet finger down one cheek, and then the other. Wiped two more across her lips. Her tongue darted out to taste herself.

“Time you got changed,” he said, picking up the blouse and skirt she had worn originally and dropping them onto her lap.

She pushed them to the side and quickly pulled off her top. More slowly eased off the tight skirt. Naked, she turned in her seat to him. Parted her thighs, and raised one knee onto the seat. He let his eyes travel casually down her taut body, and felt his own intense excitement. Ever since he had known her she had held the power to arouse him with no more than a movement or a gesture. After today, after this, things would be very different. In what way, that remained to be seen.

He let his gaze find her face, dragging his eyes away from the other delights on view. She returned his look, a smile at her lips and calculation in her eyes. Today had changed her, or maybe just allowed another part of her to elbow its way in to the foreground.

“I told you to get changed,” he said, keeping his face expressionless and his voice calm.

She nodded and picked up the white blouse. She shrugged herself into it and began to do up the buttons.

“He put a lot of trust in you,” she said, fastening the last of them and reaching for the skirt. “Not to take advantage. More advantage than you did, that is.”

He smiled. “If a man can’t trust his own brother,” he said. “Then who can he trust?”

“I’m not so sure that follows,” she said with a laugh. She lifted herself up to pull on the skirt, and then looked down at her now grimy feet. “You threw away my sandals,” she accused him lightly.

“You tried to trap my hand under your arse back there in the park,” he countered. “You deserved some sort of punishment for that.”

“I’ll give you that,” she conceded with a chuckle.

He took the see-through red panties from his pocket and gave them to her. Taking them, she opened the car door and stepped out to pull them on. Then lifted her skirt right up to do a twirl for him. Letting the skirt fall again, she bent down look at him through the open door.

“It really was nothing like I’d expected,” she said. “It was better, and it’s left me wanting more. Thank you.”

Straightening, she smoothed down her skirt and turned to head for the hotel complex to spend a night of luxury and passion with her husband. The second part of the birthday treat for which she had asked, the first part now completed. Her bare feet were going to raise a few eyebrows in that swanky place, he thought, as he went to transfer from the back to the front of his car. A flash of white on the floor caught his eye, and he bent to pick up the white panties she had been wearing when first he had entered the living room to find her waiting for him. He held them to his face a moment, drawing in her essence, before slipping them into his jacket pocket. Then settling in the driving seat and turning the key his brother had left in the ignition, he drove out of the hotel car park. His last glimpse of her, in the rear view mirror, was of her standing in the entrance watching him go.