'Don't tell me, the next time you wore a skirt and blouse.'

She lowered her eyes, which at first I took to be embarrassment, but when she continued there was a new strength, a new confidence, in her voice. She had rightly deduced that I was not angry with her, on the contrary, subconsciously I'd been fondling my crotch and she had noticed.

'Yes,' she confirmed, 'that pencil skirt with the slit so high my stocking tops show...remember the one I wore to that fancy dress party? And a white blouse that I'd struggled to button, it was so tight across my bosom. Even if my bra had been white it would have been on show,' she announced proudly.'

'He seems to have had quite an impact.' And in turn her story was having quite an impact on me.

'The whole situation had triggered something in me, I was so excited the night before I couldn't keep my hands off you, do you remember?'

I did. Two weeks ago she'd been insatiable, suddenly from nowhere, or so I'd thought at the time.

'Did you wear stockings?'

'No, not that time. I didn't know how it would turn out. It would have been uncomfortable and it seemed...brazen.'

'As brazen as a black bra under a white blouse straining to stay closed?'

'I know it sounds crazy, but I felt shy. I dressed in a more practical way, tights and knickers. That way I could do my job without feeling awkward.'

'What happened, did he approve?'

'He never said a thing, just like the first time, but this time I'd taken off the housecoat without being instructed - I'd worn it leaving here.'

'To keep me from asking questions?'

She avoided my gaze.

'I'm sorry...but also because I was afraid anyone seeing me would think me a slut.'

'Did you look like a slut?'

'Yes, even without the stockings, I was showing leg all the way up to my knickers when I walked and I was bursting out of my bra.'

'Quite the treat for your Commander.'

'He was reading a newspaper when I started but it ended up on his lap, covering some activity in the crotch area.'

'He masturbated?'

'It looked that way, but I didn't see anything other than movement under the newspaper. Maybe he had an itch,' she chuckled.

'Part way through he asked me if the skirt was restrictive. I knew what he was saying.'

'He wanted the skirt gone?'

'Yes.'

''You took it off?'

'Yes. I stood in front of him in the living room, unzipped, unhooked, let it fall.'

'He didn't actually tell you to take it off?'

'He didn't have to and I wanted it gone too.'

Picturing her in tights and knickers standing in front of the masturbating pensioner nearly sent me over the edge. I stopped fondling or I'd have cum.

'Did he talk to you?'

'You need to be aware, all the time I was performing my usual duties, we didn't discuss what we were doing...him playing, my clothes, that's what was so erotic. I found myself compliant. I realised that I would simply do whatever he wanted me to do.

When it was time to leave, I put my skirt on and the housecoat. He paid me. As I left, he thanked me as before, but he suggested stockings next time.'

'Were you aroused, doing your work in knickers and tights?'

'Oh my god yes. When I got home I found my knickers were soaked...the crutch of my tights were frothy white...I'd been almost subconsciously rubbing myself as I worked, rubbing my thighs together, pinching my nipples through blouse and bra. He must have noticed.'

'Yet he made no attempt to touch you?'

'He's a gentleman.'

'Masturbating? Making you undress? Not things I'd associate with gentlemanly behaviour.'

'He didn't make me undress,' she protested, 'he just suggested things.'

'Would you follow any suggestion he might make?'

'Yes,' she responded immediately, 'at least I have so far. I can't help myself.'

'I've seen the stockings and knickers.'

She smiled, 'I believe you want to know how they came to be in that condition?'

I nodded mutely. Pointless denying my interest or my excitement.

'He suggested stockings, he got stockings. The maid outfit came later.'

'I'm sorry.' I was apologising. She had been unfaithful, doing kinky if not adulterous things and here I was, apologising. I couldn't help myself. Just as she could not refuse her Commander, I was enthralled with her story. I wanted to hear more - I wanted him to have humiliated her further. I wondered how she would react if she knew what I was thinking. Perhaps I might find out.

'The next time I wore stockings, hold-ups. Sexier lace fronted knickers and the same skirt, bra and blouse. Again he concealed himself under a newspaper...I took off my skirt without being told. This time as I left, he suggested that my bra must have been uncomfortable to work in.

'So next time no bra? You did it?'

'Yes. I stripped off the housecoat as soon as he opened the door. He could not avoid staring at my boobs.'

I imagined her wearing a tight fitting blouse with no bra. He breasts had dropped over the years, larger after children, her aeriole darker, nipples swollen and as luscious as raspberries, even when not aroused, a bra was essential wear for her these days. The very thought of her pendulous tits under a thin white blouse...and for another man...fuck!.'

'The hold-ups were a bit of a disaster, they didn't do as their name suggests so I took them off. He seemed to enjoy that, making no attempt to hide where he was looking as I sat on a chair in his kitchen, my knickers stretched tight across my pussy as I moved. Glancing down I saw the appeal...my pubes were showing and the crotch was dark where they were damp. When they were off, I was so horny I parted my knees and used the stockings to absorb the wetness between my legs,'

By this time I was sporting a painful impossibly restrained erection. The vision of her virtually masturbating in front of a masturbating pensioner, her stockings in her hand, wearing just knickers and a blouse that did little to hide her unfettered breasts was too much. I had to wank. Not caring what she thought, I feverishly undid my belt and dragged jeans and underwear down, freeing my dripping erection. Before I could do anything else she slipped to her knees, had grabbed my cock and was wanking me; she licked my shaft like a hungry whore. With ny hands in her hair, I held her there.

Over sensitised as I was, I came quickly. Incredibly, she did not pull away, left me in her mouth as I spurted copiously, something she had never allowed before.

After, I made myself decent while she made coffee.

'Do you want to hear what happened next?

I sipped my coffee. It was surreal. I'd just ejaculated into her mouth and we were sitting at the kitchen table as if nothing had happened, as if nothing had changed despite her revelations, despite the seismic shift in the boundaries of our sexual relationship.

Fuck yes, I wanted to hear more.