She was excited, very excited. Tonight was all about no inhibitions, no fear. Tonight was about feeling sexy, feeling hot, and living out fantasies. The invitation sat on the dresser, embossed in gold and red. The dress code was specific: Vicars and tarts, let your imagination run wild, no restrictions.

As she stood naked in front of her bathroom mirror, she took out her makeup, applied thick black eyeliner and mascara. Next the red lipstick, then slicked over it with clear gloss. She rubbed her full, moist lips together; perfect. Taking the moisturizer, she squeezed some of the cool lotion onto her palms. Resting her foot on the edge of the bath tub, she applied the lotion, working her way up her leg. Long gentle strokes over her calves, her knees, her thighs. She swapped legs, applying more lotion.

With both legs done she squeezed out more lotion, warming it in her hands, then reaching behind her, and applying it to her buttocks. She massaged the lotion into the cheeks in slow, circular motions. Moving her hands to her sides, moisturizing her hips, round to the front, to her freshly waxed pussy. She ran her hand underneath, covering the area in lotion, rubbing back and forth until the lotion was absorbed.

She moved up her body, over her stomach, up to her breasts. With one hand on each, she rubbed the lotion in. Round and round, over the nipples, ensuring all the skin was covered. She finished up with her arms and neck, her body now silky smooth and soft and ready for what was to come.

She had chosen her outfit carefully. She knew what he liked, what turned him on. Carefully she rolled the stockings up her leg and fastened them to the suspender belt. She moved in front of the full length mirror, naked except for the-stockings and suspenders, looking at her reflection. As she unclipped her long dark hair, the soft curls sat on top of her breasts. She liked the look of her dark sultry eyes and bright red lips. Her eyes moved to her breasts, full and round. The nipples erect at the thought of what lay ahead. She ran her hands lightly over them, enjoying the feel of the hard nipples against her palms.

She felt a little shiver run through her and let herself imagine how his hands were going to feel against her already sensitive skin. A flush crept over her as she pictured his fingers playing with those nipples, squeezing her breasts, and then moving lower. She let one of her hands move down over her stomach, over the suspender belt. She did not wear any panties, was not intending to.

Still watching herself in the mirror, she let her fingers explore the warmth between her legs, rubbing back and forth over her clit, and then closed her eyes to picture his hand there. She was getting wet, her skin heating up. Her other hand continued to squeeze her breasts as she rubbed harder. Opening her eyes, she watched herself getting ready to come. Rubbing harder and faster, she caught her breath as she pushed her fingers up inside herself. Oh god, it felt good.

Pushing further up inside, she knew she was going to come as she looked herself in the eye. She moaned out loud, felt her juices explode, and run over her fingers. Withdrawing her hand, she slowly caressed herself, spreading the smell of her sex over her body. This would be the perfect scent for tonight. She wanted his head to be full of the smell of her sex.

It was almost time.

She stepped into the black patent mini that didn't quite cover the tops of her stockings. Picking up a red bustier, she wrapped it around her, and did up the little clasps at the front. It was skin tight and pushed her breasts up so they were barely concealed, straining out of the lacy material. She left the top clasp undone, inviting attention. Wanting the attention. Red patent high heels completed the look.

She gave herself one final look in the mirror, happy with what she saw. Glancing down at her hand, she slid the gold band off her finger. Tonight she escaped her normal life of wife, banker, and mother. Placing the gold band safely in a drawer, she headed off into the night.

The room was dark, filled with hot, sweaty bodies everywhere she looked. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. There were couples entwined on the dance floor, others sitting at tables or in booths, all lost in each other. Hands roamed, lips kissed, flesh was exposed. This party was definitely not for the shy. A waiter approached her holding a tray of champagne. She took a glass, drinking it quickly. Her eyes swept the room and then she saw him.

He was sitting at a table on the other side of the dance floor. A woman sat next to him. A sudden pang of jealousy came over her, exactly what he would want her to feel. She watched from where she stood, as the woman touched his arm, his shoulder. He was bare chested, just wearing the white vicar’s collar and black pants. He was laughing at whatever the woman was saying.

As if sensing her, he looked up, and met her eyes across the room. Just for a second, then he turned back, leaning into the woman, whispering something in her ear. He never actually touched her, but that didn't stop her from touching him. She looked away from them, knowing this would be part of his plan to drive her wild. Smoothing her hands over her bustier, down over her micro skirt, she walked towards the bar. She loved this outfit. It made her feel sexy and daring, ready for excitement. It was totally different from anything she would normally wear. She glanced at the other tarts in the room. Vicars and tarts, a classic party theme, strictly adult only, and definitely for the open-minded.