Irmgard and Stefan's relationship began in late September. In the period until Christmas, Irmgard continued to spend, whenever Stefan was in Saarbruecken, at least twice a week a few sex-filled hours after work with him.
Except on two occasions, they did not go out with each other. Irmgard's weekends were reserved not only for time with her son. There was also 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 elaborately invented story, Irmgard could have introduced him to her friends. Stefan was glad that Irmgard did not want to do it, as there was too little in Irmgard's day-by-day life that he could have shared. In their background, interests, life-experiences and life-style, Irmgard and Stefan had little in common. Irmgard had as little interest in Stefan's work, 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 different affinities and interests. In what had to be a short-term affair for them, this was an advantage.
What can make exclusively sexual affairs so exciting and rewarding is that one gets to know one's partners in a way that one does not a friend or relative. 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 needed to and did remain hidden.
In early December Irmgard offered to take Stefan to a night-club she had been to before. Part of 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 an exception as a sort-of farewell.
It was cold already with the first snow on the ground. When Irmgard picked Stefan up, she was in her winter-coat. At the night-club, when she took it off, Stefan must have gaped at what was revealed. Irmgard was in the most daring, little black dress he had ever seen on any of his women acquaintances. It included his ex-wife, who had quite happily displayed her sexy assets.
The dress's shimmering material looked like poured on Irmgard's body, accentuating the contours of hips, her stomach's flatness and beautiful shape of her breasts. Its décolletage was a V, pointing from throat and shoulders deep into the valley between her boobs. When Irmgard turned around to walk to their reserved table, the dress' real secret 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 curvature of her ass temptingly bare.
When they sat down at their table, Irmgard looked at him. A knowing smile played over her face seeing him stunned. She asked: -
"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 ... you are stunningly sexy! I will 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 and, did he imagined it, she purred with pleasure as he made love to her back. It was her devilish dress. Whenever her back was out of sight from the tables, one of Stefan's fingers would steal under the seam and slide down the cleft of Irmgard's ass. And God, how this made her rub her pubes against his 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. Still, Irmgard was in a naughtily adventurous mood. Discarding her coat, she told Stefan - low-voiced and smiling - that she was hot, and why he was so overdressed. Fronting him, Irmgard began to sway to a beat of music only she could hear. When she raised her arms, one breast freed itself from its pretend-cover. Bringing it close to Stefan's face, she accused him of looking like a boring, over-dressed husband for somebody as sexily dressed as her.
Turning a swift pirouette, Irmgard threw herself on the sofa. She gave overdressed Stefan, looking down on her, an ultimatum: -
"Your hands on me in the club were naughty. You wanted to strip me right there, didn't you? ... Now it's my turn: ... I want you to strip for me! I want you naked before I let you undress me!"
Irmgard laughed as she wriggled on the sofa. Her dress had already promisingly 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 rather showily aroused. He knelt down between his Mistress' legs to roll up her dress. She let him know her consent by lightly lifting her bottom.
Irmgard wore no panties; 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 so demonstratively no longer shy pussy. As his tongue sunk in for passionate deep kissing, Irmgard began to moan and squirm in pleasure.
When Stefan broke away from kissing to roll up her dress further, Irmgard gasped a sharp No. She cradled his head and pushed it none too gently back onto her heaving-up cunt and hissed: -
Don't stop. ... Kiss me! ... Show me how much you love me ... want my pussy!"
Her sex bare under her dress had kept Irmgard, 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 climax.
For Stefan, Irmgard's coming was a sweet beginning. He now rolled the soft covering of Irmgard's dress up over her straining tits to switch from tonguing her pussy to suck and bite 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 pussy. 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, your beautiful cock! ... Has been waiting for such loving all night!"
Stefan kissed Irmgard's stuttering, sex-talk, and 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, and arched and trashed 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 orgiastic twirl of convulsing and screaming.
Closely embraced, they rested and recovered. When Irmgard stirred, she sexily wriggling confessed that she had planned to seduce him tonight. Then, giggling, she admitted that it was her that lost all control and finished up ravished. And God, Irmgard whispered, did she love it. Finally, with a quick but hot kiss, 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 her provocative teasing. Now Stefan was treated to watching Irmgard. She straightened out her rolled-up dress and - slowly and smiling down on him - slid the clinging fabric over her sensuously twisting body.
Once done, she stepped into his arms, inviting a kiss. And Stefan's wayward hand stroked down her back and slid fully onto Irmgard's so tempting ass. She laughed and with an "Aha! Still naughty?" wriggled free.
Over coffee, Irmgard told Stefan the story behind this dress.
She had bought it more than two years ago for going out to the night-club they had been to today. A group of their friends had booked this outing, and 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. Her husband, therefore, knew nothing about her little black dress until the night they went out.
When she appeared in the kitchen, where he was waiting in his dark suit, Robert gasped. 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 was not going to 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 her to the club.
Her dress was a huge success: Openly admired by the males; viewed with envy and praised with jaundiced compliments by their wives.
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 realising that she wanted to be somebody so different from what she was brought up to be. The dress had triggered in her not only her dormant sensuality but also a sudden 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 could evoke in males, and the envy and jealousy she triggered in their women. A sense of power and danger combined to put her into a state of invulnerability and daring 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 and how their sweaty hands groped her tempting nakedness. Drinking more than usual, her laughter grew louder as her husband's sullenness deepened 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 tried to importune her occasionally before. On this occasion, he danced with her often. And Uwe pressed her close to make her feel his erection as his hand slid down onto her ass. On this night, Irmgard not only endured; she responded by rubbing against his cock and 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, with Irmgard quite 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, Irmgard fell asleep. Once in the garage, Robert tried to arouse her to get out of the seat and failed. Pulling her out, 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 on 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 have or wear.
He probably intended, Irmgard said, to take it off her to hide or throw away. He bent over her prone body - Irmgard played dead - and started to push up the dress. Robert was still angry and jerked it - she feared it would tear - up to her midriff. As Irmgard did not stir to help him, Robert would have had to embrace her, lift her up 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 bewildered frustration.
What followed, Irmgard said, was so strange and unexpected that afterwards she sometimes thought she must have dreamed it. With her dress crunched-up to her midriff, Robert reached for her almost sheer panties. Slowly, so as not to wake her, he began to inch them down her legs. Then he knelt and gently spread her legs. Irmgard lay still. He must have stared, without moving and touching, for quite a long time, at her pussy. Eventually, Robert got up and carefully pulled her dress down as far as it would go. He straightened her out on the bed, covered her with a blanket 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 8mm films in his work-room in the cellar. I looked at it, read it, still have it. It was Robert's collection of porn! ... My partner of fifteen years was not as sexually innocent or uninterested as he had made me believe. He was keen on sex, wanted exciting, adventurous sex. ... Just not with me ... his chaste wife! ... So, we never really got to know each other. ... And my dress almost lured him out of his shell, just as it had forced me out of mine. ... It almost worked its magic! ... But too late; Robert, already sick, had to die."
Irmgard paused deep in thought before concluding: -
"I haven't worn the dress since. I decided for tonight, I had to put it on. ...For us, being real lovers. ... It worked. ... God, didn't it work its magic for us!"
Stefan could only agree and proved it by retaking her into his arms. When he kissed her, Irmgard's hot-tongued response encouraged him to ask if she really had to be home so early. It was only 3 o'clock, the night was not done. His hand had wandered up her thigh, knowing that it would find no hindering panties. Her hand quickly matched Stefan's to pull 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, as you ride this cock. This time in your sexy dress."
Without a moment's hesitation, Irmgard rucked the dress up to her belly and mounted. Then her hand guided Stefan's reawakened cock centimetre by sweet centimetre into a gripping-hot welcome. Irmgard was still crouching, kissing him heatedly, only stopping to mutter something about 'Naughty' and how she was going to tame him.
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, her eyes left his. Arching back in lust, she looked at 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 tonight. Anybody could be looking in ... watch me riding you."
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, one of her boobs escaped its pretend covering.
And Stefan - in company with her imagined voyeurs outside in the dark - was invited to watch as she lasciviously rode his cock. Alternating between a sinuously slow grinding and a bucking, hard, deep-fucking ride, Irmgard rode them - herself, any watchers and him - into an orgiastic storm. And after, she sank down on Stefan to capture his mouth for a raunchy, provokingly tell-all kiss.
Rising again, still mounted and gripping his cock, 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 - on the 19th of December - for 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.
For Stefan, therefore, his leave-taking from Irmgard was under the shadow of being a possibly final farewell.