Chapter3:

Irmgard and Stefan’s relationship began in late September. Until Christmas, Irmgard continued to spend some sex-filled hours with Stefan at least twice a week, whenever he was in Saarbruecken.

Except on two occasions, they did not go out with each other. Irmgard’s weekends were reserved not only for time with her son, but with her continuing, everyday social life, which Stefan neither could nor wanted to share.

There was, firstly, the fact that Stefan was not only a stranger but a short-term visitor. With an invented story, of course, Irmgard could have introduced him to her friends. Stefan was glad that Irmgard did not want to do it. She realised there was little in her day-to-day life he could have shared.

In their background, interests, life experiences and lifestyle, Irmgard and Stefan had little in common. Irmgard had as little interest in Stefan’s work, his love of literature and history, as he had for her card game, village-social-life and football allegiances.

As happens often, their sexual compatibility and interest in each other - almost on an obsessive level - existed entirely separate from their other affinities and interests. In what had to be a short-term affair for them, this was an advantage. In a long-term relationship, one's incompatibility would soon have threatened to cancel the other's attraction.

What can make a purely sexual affairs so exciting and rewarding is that one gets to know one’s partners in a way that excludes other aspects of one's life. Eros is charged with secrets, and these are only revealed, paradoxically, to strangers in purely erotic relationships. Between Irmgard and Stefan, none of these secret desires remained hidden.

In early December, Irmgard offered to take Stefan to a nightclub she had been to before. Her reason was that they would not see each other between Christmas and Easter. Stefan was committed to spending this term in a different, distant research centre. So, this night out, Irmgard insisted, would be a sort of farewell. She did not tell Stefan that she meant to give him the strongest incentive to return to her!

It was cold already with the first snow on the ground. When Irmgard picked Stefan up, she was in her winter coat. At the nightclub, when she took it off, Stefan was momentarily stunned. Irmgard wore the most daring, little black dress he had ever seen on any of his women acquaintances. That included his ex-wife, who had liked to display her delectable assets in public.

The dress’s shimmering material looked like it had been cast on Irmgard’s body. It accentuated the contours of her hips, her stomach's flatness and the beautiful shape of her breasts. The dress’s décolletage was a V, pointing from throat and shoulders deep into the valley between Irmgard’s boobs.

When Irmgard turned around to walk to their reserved table, the dress’s most daring appeal was revealed. It was held in place on Irmgard’s body by two thin straps, one around her neck, the other across her back. Irmgard was braless and from neck to the beginning swell of her buttocks naked.

When they sat down at their table, Irmgard looked at Stefan. A knowing smile played over her face seeing him stunned. She said, ‘I think you like my dress, don’t you? We had to go out, so I could put it on for you. I’ve only worn it once before. And it was here.’

Stefan struggled to find the words: -

‘My God, Irmgard! This dress is sensational. You are dangerously sexy in it, and I’ll be the most envied man here tonight. I hope I won’t have to share you with other males that want to get their paws on your beautiful back and ass!’

Irmgard smiled sweetly and promised, ‘I’ll only dance with you. Tonight, your hands are the only ones I want touching me up.’

She kept her promise. Irmgard loved to dance close. She purred with pleasure as he made love to her back. It was her most devilish dress. Whenever her back was out of sight from the tables, Stefan’s fingers would steal into the gap and slide down the crack of Irmgard’s ass. And she responded by wriggling her pubes against Stefan’s constrained erection!

Although it was a Saturday night, when Irmgard drove Stefan home, she came up to his apartment. They had not had much to drink, but Irmgard was in a naughtily provoking mood. Discarding her coat, she told Stefan – low-voiced and smiling - that she was too hot. Did he plan to stay so overdressed?

Fronting him, Irmgard began to sway to the beat of a music only she could hear. When she raised her arms, one boob almost slipped out from its pretend restraint. Pushing her tempting tit onto Stefan’s face, she accused him: ‘In this suit of yours, you look like a boring, over-dressed husband for somebody as sexily dressed as I am.'

Turning a swift pirouette, Irmgard threw herself next to Stefan, on the sofa. Keeping him away at arm’s length she continued her reprimanding demands: -

‘Your hands on my ass while we danced were rather naughty. You wanted to strip me, right there on the dance floor, didn’t you? Now it’s my turn: I want you to strip for me! I want you naked! I want to see your stiff cock, all excited, pointing at me as you tear off my dress!’

Irmgard laughed as she wriggled on the sofa. Her dress had already slid up part of her thighs.

As a tease, Stefan’s stripping must have disappointed. However, he quickly was naked and – Irmgard could not hide her interest - was showily aroused down below. He knelt between his Mistress’ legs to roll up her dress. She let him know her consent by lightly lifting her bottom.

Irmgard wore no panties; she had worn none all night under the sheerness of her dress! Stefan rolled her dress no further. Captivated by what was before him, he dived down for the first kiss on Irmgard’s shamelessly on offer pussy. As his tongue sunk in for a passionate first kiss, Irmgard began to moan and squirm in pleasure.

When Stefan stopped his kissing too soon to roll up Irmgard’s dress over her tits, Irmgard gasped a sharp ‘No!’ She cradled his head and pushed it none too gently back into her groin and hissed: ‘Don’t stop! Kiss me properly! Show me how much you love tonight, my naughty, wanting you pussy!’

With her sex bare under her dress, Irmgard had been throughout the night in a high state of excitation. When Stefan sunk his tongue again into the tangy bliss of her pussy, it quickly gifted Irmgard with a longed-for first coming.

For Stefan, Irmgard’s ‘little’ climax was a sweet beginning. He now rolled Irmgard’s dress up over her straining tits. Leaving her climaxing pussy, he switched to sucking and biting her nipples. And Irmgard, in the last throes of her orgasm, pressed them into his ravaging mouth.

She also struggled out of her scrunched up, now hindering dress and threw it aside. Then reaching for one of Stefan’s hands, Irmgard dragged it down to her fevering sex. As his fingers slid into the cunt’s slippery heat, Irmgard gasped her demand. ‘Don’t stop now! Feel how hot my pussy is for you! God, it wants now your fingers to touch me up, your beautiful cock to fuck me! I've been waiting for such loving all night!’

Stefan kissed Irmgard’s stuttering sex-talk, and the moans and cries from her lips as he fingered and fucked her through long, long waves of coming. And Irmgard gasped her ‘Yes!’ for more. She arched and thrashed under and against him until Stefan could hold back no longer. And then his roar and wild pouring into her swept Irmgard again into a final twirl of convulsing and screaming.

Closely embraced, they rested and recovered. When Irmgard stirred, wriggling sexily in Stefan’s arms, she confessed that she had planned to seduce him tonight. Then, giggling, she admitted that it was she who lost all control and finished up ravished. And God, Irmgard whispered, 'Wasn't it fantastic? For you too?"

Having restored Stefan’s manly pride, Irmgard skipped off for a shower. Stefan put on his pyjamas and made coffee to sober Irmgard up for her drive home.

Irmgard returned from the shower smiling broadly, all aglow, ravishingly sexy in her naked glory. Over the last months, Irmgard had lost all shyness. She now loved exciting him not only with her nakedness but in showing herself off. She straightened out her rolled-up dress and – slowly, smiling, and sinuously twisting - slid the clinging fabric over her body.

Once done, she stepped into his arms, inviting a kiss. Stefan’s wayward hand stroked down her back and slid fully onto Irmgard’s ass. She laughed and with an ‘Aha! Still naughty! Can I make you wait?’ she wriggled free. To Stefan it sounded like a promise.

Over coffee, Irmgard told Stefan that there was a story behind her dress.

She had bought it two years ago for going out to the nightclub they had been to today. A group of their friends had booked this outing. Robert had, somewhat grumpily, agreed that they would join.

Irmgard wanted something new to wear. A friend at work told her about a ‘fantastic’ little boutique in Metz. So, Irmgard one day drove the few kilometres into France. When she was shown this dress, she knew she would have to have it.

When she tried it on and saw herself in the three-way mirror, she also knew that she would be in trouble with Robert. Keeping it a secret, he knew nothing about her dress until the night they went out.

When Irmgard stepped into the kitchen, where Robert was waiting in his dark suit, he gasped in surprise. This she had expected. It was followed – not unexpectedly - by an icy stare and angry words. Robert was not going to be seen with her half-naked, looking like a slut. Unless she changed into something decent, he shouted, they were not going out.

But, this time, Irmgard dug in. She would not change: She was going out in this dress, and Robert could stay home for all she cared! Irmgard was going to ask one of their friends to accompany her. So threatened but seething with anger, Robert drove with her to the club.

Her dress was a huge success: The males openly admired her. However, their wives viewed her with undisguised envy.

Irmgard paused in her tale to collect her thoughts. There was something wistful in her smile as she tried to describe to Stefan what happened that night. Irmgard admitted that she was shocked by her wanting to be so different from her everyday self. The dress had triggered not only her dormant sexuality, but an irresistable need to rebel.

On the given night, there was the fight with and victory over her husband. It was followed at the club by the raw lust she realised she evoked in the men and the envy and jealousy she triggered in their women. A sense of power and danger combined to put her into a state of daring-all she had never known before.

Her husband refused to talk to her all night. It provoked Irmgard into flirting outrageously with all the males. She danced with most of them while Robert sulked. She liked how close they held her, with their sweaty hands on her naked back. She also drank more than usual. As her laughter grew louder, Robert’s sullenness grew into a barely contained rage.

Significantly, there was Uwe. He was a friend of Robert, whom she had never really liked. His wandering hands had occasionally groped her in the past. He danced only with her on this occasion, pressing her against his hard-on with his hand sliding down onto her ass. On this night, Irmgard not only endured. She responded by rubbing against his cock, while her buttocks twitched under Uwe’s marauding hand! And she delighted in seeing that Uwe’s dowdy wife had joined Robert in scowling at them every time they returned to the table.

Finally, getting more and more drunk, Robert had gathered her up. Ignoring her mumbled protest that she was having a wonderful time, he dragged her to the car. On the drive home, she fell asleep. Once in the garage, Robert tried to arouse her. He failed. Pulling her out of her seat, he had to half-drag, half-carry her to the bedroom. He threw her angrily onto the bed.

Irmgard paused in her recollection. With a grin, she admitted that she was more awake by then than Robert suspected. He peeled her out of her coat. As she lay stretched out on their bed in her skimpy dress, Robert stared down at her. He knew the dress must have cost a fortune. But more than being a luxury, the dress was a statement in rebellious opposition to what his wife was supposed to be and wear.

Robert probably intended, Irmgard said, to take off her dress to hide or throw it away. He bent over her prone body - Irmgard played dead - and started to push up the dress. Robert was still angry and jerked it up to her midriff. As she did not stir, Robert would have had to embrace her to lift her to pull the dress over her head and stretched-out arms. She did not assist, so Robert stood back to look down on her in frustration.

What followed, Irmgard said, was strange. Afterwards, she sometimes thought she must have dreamed it. Her dress was scrunched up to her midriff. Now Robert knelt down and reached for her almost sheer panties. Slowly – suddenly he did not want her awake - he began to inch them down her legs. Then he knelt and gently spread her legs.

'I lay still. Robert stared, without moving or touching, for a long time at my pussy. In all our love-making he had never done this before! Eventually, he got up and pulled my dress down as far as it would go. Then he straightened me out on the bed, put a blanket over me and left. He then bedded down on the sofa in the living room.'

Irmgard sipped on her coffee. Stefan looked at her questioningly. He wondered what else she would say or whether there was anything more to be said. Irmgard sat there in her now so much more revealing garment. Composed and unsmiling, she thought for a while. Then she turned to Stefan: -

‘I put the dress away. Robert and I never talked about what had happened or about how I had behaved. Then he got sick. After his death, I found a box with magazines, books, and a few Videotapes in his work-room in the cellar. I looked at it all, still have it. I quite like to look at it now! It was Robert’s collection of porn! My partner of fifteen years was not as sexually innocent or uninterested as I believed. He was keen on sex, wanted exciting, porn-like sex. Just not with me, his chaste wife! So, we never really got to know each other. But my dress almost lured him out of his shell, just as it had forced me out of mine. It almost worked its magic for our dull marriage! It was too late; Robert, already sick, died six months later.’

Irmgard paused deep in thought before concluding, ‘I haven’t worn the dress since. I decided for tonight I had to wear it again. For us, being real lovers already. And Stefan, doesn’t it work its magic for us?’

Stefan could only agree. To prove it, he recaptured her into his arms. When he kissed her, Irmgard’s hot-tongued response encouraged him to ask, ‘Do you have to be home so early? The night is still young. It’s only 3 o’clock!’

Stefan’s hand had persuasively slid up Irmgard’s thigh, knowing it would find no hindering panties. And her hand quickly matched Stefan’s in pulling down his pyjama pants. What sprung at her made Irmgard catch her breath, followed by an excited whisper, ‘What more do you have in mind for us tonight?’

‘I want to see you, look at you, riding me in your sexy dress.’

Without a moment’s hesitation, Irmgard rucked the dress up to her belly. Mounting him, her hand guided Stefan’s reawakened rod, centimetre by sweet centimetre, into a gripping-hot welcome. Irmgard was still crouching, deep-tongue kissing him. When she stopped, she muttered something about ‘insatiable male’ and how they need to be tamed.

And then she began to ride him in earnest, upright, looking at him, laughing, biting her sexily swollen lips. Stefan’s hands gripped her buttocks and then caressed her tits through and out of the sheerness of her dress. Eventually, a finger slid into her bush to find her clit. As she cried out and her head jerked left, her eyes left his. Arching back in lust, she saw her image in the night-darkened glass of the window!

When she turned to Stefan again, Irmgard’s eyes shone with excitement. ‘You didn’t draw the curtain, Stefan. Anybody could be looking in. They'd see me riding you, fucking you, in this naughty dress of mine!’

It seemed as if Irmgard decided, there and then, to put on a show for the wintry forest outside. As she twisted and stretched with arms raised and her head thrown back in ecstatic bliss, her boobs escaped their pretend covering.

And Stefan – in company with Irmgard’s imagined watcher who lurked outside – was invited to watch as she lasciviously rode into a storm. Alternating between a sinuously slow grinding and a bucking, hard, deep-fucking ride, Irmgard rode them – Stefan, herself and any watchers - into the wildest of coming yet. And after, she sank on Stefan to capture his mouth for a raunchy, denying-nothing kiss.

When she sat up after a while, still mounted and gripping his cock in her cunt, she looked down on him in triumph. Bursting into laughter, Irmgard almost shouted, ‘Oh, this dress! It’s magical! Or is it me? Tell me, Stefan, is it me?’

Before Stefan left to spend Christmas with relatives in Austria, he saw Irmgard twice more. Once, for their last love session, and then a final leave-taking from Irmgard and Liesl in what had become ‘their’ café.

Stefan intended to return to Saarbruecken after Easter. He was, however, not sure if Irmgard would then still want to continue their relationship. He believed that Irmgard had liberated herself from her self-imposed chastity, and she was not bound to him except by her free choice.

Besides, during this last term of his study leave, he would also have less time for Irmgard. He had more professional commitments away from the Saarland than he had had during the autumn.

Therefore, Stefan's leave-taking from Irmgard was – certainly for him - under the shadow of being a possibly final farewell.