Clumsily reaching for the parcel beside him, Jim attempted to toss it to her, but between his bad aim and her sudden, strange lack of coordination, she not only missed it but, in trying to catch it on the fly, fell over the hassock and sprawled on the floor giggling, one long leg still caught over the hassock so that the bright blue dress fell back upon her thigh. She was still shaking as she crawled along the floor after the parcel, and when she noticed that one naked breast was peeping through the V of the dress she was too helpless with laughter to be able to fix it, and too gay to care. And when, the oblong package under her arm, she tried to stand up again, she knew that her bent knee must reveal to his focusing eyes at least some hint in the shadows of her thighs that she was equally bare there.
A little unsteadily Jim pushed himself to his feet and came over to her, taking her arm. "Upsy-daisy," he said, lifting, and at last she was on her feet, though unsteady in the forward-straining high-heeled shoes. She swayed against him as she scrabbled at the wrappings and at last got them off, feeling his hot breath on her ear as he supported her. The oblong box now revealed she quickly dropped to the floor, holding on to the tissue-paper covered bundle of lightness inside. Taking hold of a comer of black material that showed she shook and waved it from her hand until the paper floated away and she could see that she held a garment of some kind. And such a garment!
It was made of sheer black nylon, transparent as the stockings she wore, with large-patterned diamond-shaped ridges on it. It was a one-piece affair, with legs and arms that ended in black ruffles that matched the ones edging the navel deep V in front and the deeper V in back. The front was the front, she could tell, because of the black ridges which outlined where the wearer's breasts would be held. As she examined it more closely, closing one blue eye to concentrate better, she saw that a small plastic zipper ran from the notch of the rear V around to that of the front one, and now she carefully unzipped it so that, as she held it out in both hands, it resembled a floating black butterfly. "Oh, it's beautiful!" she said, with a slight hiccup, and pushed herself away from Jim to try to dance again to the tune of 'These are a few of the things that I love'.
"Mmhh, put it on, honey," said Jim. "I bet it's your size."
Obediently, happy to oblige, Maryon kicked off her shoes and tried to step into one of the clinging legs of the harem-type costume, but kept on losing her balance. "You'll have to help me, Jim. And gimme some more wine, please." She'd show him whether she was big enough to take her mother's place or not!
He gurgled the Chablis into the two glasses and gave her one, then knelt in front of her. "Put your hand on my shoulder, Maryon," he said, then took her foot in one hand and eased it into the leg of the thing, then changed hands to do the same with the other leg. He spent a minute at her feet making sure he'd got the thing on her the right side out and the right way around, then, pulling at the black nylon, slid his hands slowly up her calves and over her knees, then up to her thighs, under the dress. "Can't see what I'm doing," he said, and without thinking she took hold of the hem of the dress and tucked it up under her chin, quickly, returning her free hand to his shoulder and taking a sip of wine from the glass in the other.
The sight of her unconcerned nudity seemed to be too much for the man and he stared at her gold-twined cunt as it was exquisitely framed by the stocking-tops and the garter-belt and its straps as if he'd struck real gold. More slowly now, never letting his eyes deviate from that bland blonde nest that faced him, he slid the harem-costume further up her thighs. At the touch of that nylon-on-nylon sensation on her legs, Maryon felt that old feeling start all over again. She shook her hips impatiently. "Hurry up, Jim," she said. "I'm getting tired of standing."
She quivered as his hands cupped the lush balls of her ass, fitting the thing to her like a glove, then looked down the length of herself as she felt him fumbling at her thighs.
"Ought to take this thing off," he was muttering, unfastening the straps of her garter-belt. "Otherwise might tear something. Better get your dress off, too. Here, let me put your glass down while you do it."
Maryon felt her breasts pull free as she struggled to get the bright blue dress off over her head, her long-whipped ponytail getting in the way for a while so that she strained and stretched her body to set her agile young breasts to dancing above Jim's head as he loosed the taut straps resting against the satin creaminess of her thighs and laddered the jiggling, ballooning richness of her cute little rump. Finally he managed to unhook the thing and drop it to the floor, then stood up help her with the dress, as she arched her back, shrugging her shoulders, she was pressed against him and with a hidden gasp she realized that he was hard beneath his tight pants, and soon, if she was lucky, she would get her first look at a real man.
The dress flung carelessly over the hassock, Maryon stood lax and limp as Jim quickly pulled the rest of the garment up over her and slid her arms into its sleeves. Stepping back, he told her to get herself sorted out and, awkwardly bending her neck to see what she was doing, since there was no mirror in the room, she cupped her nubile breasts and tucked them carefully into place under the transparent dark nylon. At his suggestion she stepped into the blue shoes, then reaching behind her with an arc of her slim stomach that she knew thrust her titties out to their fullest prominence, took hold of the zipper that lodged above the crack of her ass and pushed it down as far as it would go beneath her, before leaning over to reach down in front of her, her breasts like cherry-tipped pears, to grasp the zipper and pull it up in front.
Its tightening track pulled the harem-thing about her like a second skin, and as she wiggled and stretched to get more comfortable in it the transparent black nylon moved with her. When she bent her legs and stuck her butt out, placing her hand to cup her crotch and smooth the bite of the ridge out of it, she surreptitiously fingered herself, oblivious of Jim's bright-eyed stare.
Suddenly becoming aware again of the music, she put her hands on her neck, below the swinging ponytail, dropped her head back and, standing in place, lithely put her body through the paces of a wild dance, feeling the excitement grow in her as the tight nylon subtly slid and tugged against her flesh.
"I think you owe me a kiss for the present, honey," she heard him say softly, and then she felt one arm about her shoulders and the other on her waist. Still keeping her hands behind her, she let him pull her writhing body against him, and she deliberately drove her little crotch against the bulge in pants, letting the sleek nylon slide sussuratingly over him he had to be aware that she knew what she was doing, dropped a hand to her behind and feverishly clutched and stroked her animated ass, while on her closed-eye face she felt his hot, musky breath. His lips came down on her own parted rosebuds, and immediately she darted her long, wriggling tongue into his mouth, thrusting and seeking his until they met and struggled.
The familiar longings quickly spread through her, tinged with the delicate spice of daring, the consequences of discovery or disclosure in this instance would be far more severe than would have been the case with her brother, even. She mashed her wet lips the more resolutely against Jim's and prepared herself for utter abandonment.