Beginnings: Chapter 4 - Room For Change - Sex Stories

Beginnings: Chapter 4 - Room For Change

... feelings of sensuality and power. I may not have recognised the woman in the mirror, but I knew that she was me, and I was beginning to adore her. Sophie stood up and removed the blouse from the hanger. She moved behind me and I slid my arms into the sleeves. Once it was sitting on my shoulders, Sophie moved round in front of me and slowly began to fasten the buttons, top to bottom. The blouse was a crisp white but light and soft against my skin, with a V-neckline which subtly revealed a somehow tantalising yet modest hint of cleavage. Sophie then removed the skirt from its hanger. She then bent down in front of me, holding the waistband, and invited me to step into it. Slowly she slid it up my legs and eased it over my bottom. With another deft movement of her fingers she fastened the side button and slid the zip up, before standing back a little and smiling. I looked at myself in the mirror opposite again and caught my breath once more. I suddenly remembered that Veronica had told me the day before that she thought I should be showing off my legs a little more. The skirt, which fitted me to perfection, was several inches shorter and tighter, in spite of a deliciously provocative vent in the back, than anything I had ever worn, or dared to. I realised that the length of the skirt meant that there were only a few dangerous inches between the hemline and the lace tops of my stockings. I also realised that these few inches were undermined precariously at the back by the vent in ...

... the skirt. “How does the skirt fit, Miss Richardson?” Sophie asked. “Perfectly,” I said, still gazing intently into my reflection, turning every now and then to try to get a different angle. I brushed my hands down the material, which felt soft and outrageously expensive. “If I may say so, you look fabulous.” She turned to Veronica. “Don’t you think so, Miss Hamilton?” I turned to look at Veronica too. She was still caressing her lower lip with her finger, and her eyes were dark once more, as they had been in the wine bar during our first meeting. “I agree, Sophie,” said Veronica, bending forward slightly in her chair and picking up a box that was on the floor beside it. She stood up and approached me, before lifting the lid of the box. Putting her hand inside the box, she lifted out a pair of exquisite high-heeled black shoes, the backs of which she had hooked over her fingers. “Here,” said Veronica, holding out the shoes in front of her. “Put these on. Don’t worry; they are your size.” I took the shoes from Veronica, put them on the floor in front of me and slipped my feet inside them. As I did so, I seemed to grow three or four inches in stature, but inside the difference felt more like one of increased power. The heels enhanced the shape of my legs and pulled divinely on my calf muscles. Between my legs a delicious warmth was now firmly taking its sensual and irresistible hold. “Perfect”’ Veronica purred. “Don’t you think so, Sophie?” Sophie nodded and a smile lit up her ...