V Is for Vicky

"I'm looking for my daughter. Martina. Have you seen her?"

The young leggy blonde was staring straight at me, smiling and basically giving me 'the look'. Hell! She was coming on to me! I was shocked. And I was flattered. But really, it wouldn't be right.

"I like older men."

That was all she said. I looked down at her upturned face. She couldn't be interested in....? No, of course not.

I reached out to push open the door behind her but as I did so she slightly turned and my hand slid right underneath the loosely open top of her dress and landed on her bra. As the top opened a little, my eyes and my left hand simultaneously discovered that she was either well-developed in that respect or wearing a padded bra, as I knew Martina was. And that she was wearing a black bra. I was shocked and embarrassed that my hand ended up where it did.

"Oh yeah, baby" she called out, turning towards me.

Her eyes were open wide, and she pressed her crotch against my leg hard. My hand was still on her bra. As she began to sway with the music I became very slightly off-balance, and squeezed slightly! I looked around to see if anyone was noticing us but no one was, everyone was dancing and doing the same thing. My own cock had begun to swell at the moment I had entered the door and saw the assembled throng and their antics, and was extremely hard by then. Somehow I couldn't bring myself to separate myself from the young girl in front of me. I took another big gulp from my scotch.

"Go on then ,baby. If you're going to...." she cooed, rather teasingly.

My heart was pounding. I reached around her with my free hand and grabbed her bum. Again I looked around me, no one was watching us. I just couldn't help myself, the whole idea of feeling this girl was dominating my thoughts. I needed to find Martina, but I – I admit it - wanted to stay with Vicky. She did indeed seem rather different from many of the other girls there all dressed in tight tops and sweaters and jeans or mini-skirts and so on. Vicky probably wasn't the only one there wearing a dress though she was certainly the only one so 'formally' attired, the short black dress and the high heels and so on. And I always liked to look, with Mary's permission, at a female form in high-heeled stilettos and an LBD.