Barbara & Vikky Part 2

One day, after ue were some months into our relationship I received a perturbing phonecall. It was Vikky in tears after one of her new guys had dumped her. I listened disinterestedly, just happy inside to consider which colour thong I should buy Barbara for an upcoming dressup session, and how she'd look in some clichéd transparent platform heels, like so many lap dancers...cheap, slutty and ludicrous, especially with a thick cock hanging down! Or perhaps a female executive role...pinstripe suit, short skirt and hard-on! I was getting steadily turned on...

'Are you listening to me?' sobbed Vikky.

'Oh, of course' I uttered. But then, with a sudden rush frustration at Vikky's self-centered, big-headed attitude, not to mention her thinly-disguised plan to somehow get me back, no doubt due to boredom...something chemical clicked inside. Eureka!

'When are you in? This evening? Do you mind if I bring a good friend? You'll love her. No, there's nothing going on, I mean, she's old enough to be my Auntie! But you will like her, and it'll cheer you up, no end.'

I hung up the phone. Even if nothing happened, the mere proximity of them both together would keep my imagination fertile for weeks!

- - -

I had of course described Vikky in detail to Barbara, who now smiled and shook her head at my callous plans, which, let's face it, were pretty obvious. We were strolling along the road near Vikky's, Barbara enjoying the attention from men who whistled at her trim form and large bosom, her blonde curls shining in the afternoon sunlight. She was adorned in tight denim jeans, red stilettoes and a pink peasant blouse strung ridiculously 'secure', the tie dangling loosely parallel with her tit-crease.

We knocked on the door, which was promptly answered by Vikky. To say she was 'dolled-up' was understatement of the year. She had her golden blonde hair piled high, demure make up, and a long black satin dress leaving very little to the imagination...except a rather visible thong line, which admired as we followed her into her living room. I exchanged glances with Barbara, who simply raised an eyebrow, glanced at Vikky's pert ass as she clipped along on her gold spikes, and back at me, winking one of her liquid blue eyes, darkly framed with fluttering, lush, mascara-caked eyelashes.