Adventures of City Girl

It would be the perfect seduction I thought to myself; he wouldn't know what had hit him. He certainly wouldn't be able to resist.

I lay in my bath and started to plot the details. As I did so I could already feel my body respond to my desire. I watched as my nipples hardened, the firm pink centre slowly rising out of the water, pushing the last of the bubbles aside. My hand moved slowly to rest between my legs.

I had first met James many years ago as newly qualified grads, fresh and shiny just out of University. We had joined the graduate program of Wetherstock Bros, the new cannon fodder to be sent off to conquer investment-banking consultancy.

I remember that first day; I sat in reception wearing a black suit and crisp white linen blouse. It had been in the late eighties when women still wore skirts as routine in the city. I had chosen carefully, and I remember watching the hem rising higher above my knee as I sat down. James had sat down next to me, nervous but smiling. I had liked him then, but I saw no recognition then. He had barely glanced at me, or my carefully exposed legs.

The first weeks had been manic, we had been sent to work on a big new back office settlements job Wetherstock had recently won.

Perhaps it could have been different had we landed cushy roles on a nice project but this wasn't like that. We were all desperate to prove ourselves and the project was a tough assignment. We got in early, worked late, slept in the gaps.

I remember one evening a year later, sitting in the office late, it was the first time I had considered James a possible partner. I had made team leader weeks before, James hadn't and I knew it hurt him to watch me going into meetings with the other team leaders while he toiled on.

I was still pretty good looking then, reasonably slim, short hair though to save time. It was summer and the building was hot, the air con never worked well at the best of times. Against my normal rules I had taken off my jacket. I never do that if possible, I feel that it is a suit of armour against the sexist gits that inhabit the world of banking and consultancy.

James and I were kicking some ideas around, about a new data feed we had to build when, much to my surprise, I saw him glance down at my breasts. As always I was wearing a light ironed linen white blouse buttoned up pretty high. I was surprised because he had never given me a second look before. I had finished my chat with him but had kept a close eye on his body language. Sure enough, as I turned back and forward to my screen, he had twice or more checked out my chest.

I went into the loo, just to see how I looked and was amused to realize that I had put on a pretty white lace bra that morning and that the combination of linen and lace on my hot sweaty top was a sensual combination. The pattern of the lace, the small bow in the middle of the cups and the thin straps going over my shoulders were all pretty clear. Standing close to the mirror I even wondered if I could just make out the slightly darker rings of my nipples, visible in parts through the lace. I smiled at myself, laughing that this was the first time I had considered myself a sexual animal since I had moved to the city.

I undid another button of my blouse so it was open to just above the line of the top of the cup of my bra and returned to my desk. I picked up some papers and went over to see if he would continue his attentions. I put the plans on his desk and leaning forward I pointed at a few key dates, chucking in some questions about progress. My blouse had fallen forward and there was no doubt that from where he was sitting he would have a clear view down onto my lace covered tits. I glanced backwards and forwards from the plan to him and was amused to see as he struggled to focus on the paper. Again however I saw his eyes flash back from gazing at my lace lingerie when he thought he could get away with it.

I suddenly felt a flush of power, control and arousal at his attentions. I realised that for a year I had been monk-like in my devotions to work. I had neither slept with a man, nor even kissed one since my last fling at university.

'James lets get some dinner.' I proposed.

'Yeah, I'm starving'. He concurred, picking the local takeaway menu out of his stacked in-tray.

'No. I mean real dinner, you know, how about that French place near the tube?'.

'What you mean, you and me, a restaurant?'

'Sure, why not?'

There was a look of confusion on his face as though he had never considered eating in a restaurant before.

'OK'. He looked quizzically back at me, his eyes momentarily drifting down to my blouse. He was obviously trying to understand if I was asking him out, or what.

The meal had been a pleasant affair although in the end we found ourselves talking through the technicalities of a sub-system design. He became accustomed to the fact I was actually a woman, stopped checking me out. I got tired, and as we left, when he asked 'Shall we share a cab?' I just coped out with a weary 'No, I'll just get the Northern Line thanks.' And that was that.

The next week, a big new project came up in Basle, he went, and I stayed.

How many times did I wonder where that cab could have led, coffee, bed, an awkward breakfast, dates, a shared flat, marriage.... Well who knows I traded it all for a trip on the tube and a stellar career in consultancy.

So that's how I found myself lying in the bath, a slightly overweight, exhausted thirty-two year old fingering my clit and dreaming of a seduction ten years too late.

Well in the meantime we had both done well, James had done Basle, New York, Tokyo, a golden boy of consultancy. If you wanted a high profile banker shmoosed, then James was the guy, and the money flowed in. I had proved myself a safe pair of hands, over and over across the city of London. Delivering projects, getting stuff done, generally being a hard bitch when people needed it. Loyal to my team, good at details, quiet, efficient.

We had kept in touch, sort of, occasional emails, a few snatched words at conferences. I sent him a jeroboam when he made partner, he sent flowers the next year when I did.

So one morning I got the email announcement. 'James Somerton is to become co-head of the London Banking Coordination team'. Not a bad job, a similar level to mine, we would work together often. But more critically, this time I decided would be different, I was going to do more than flash a little lace-covered nipple and he would be mine.

First however there was a plan to put in place, I had two months and by the time he arrived on the scene I would be a different woman.

Out went the toasted ciabatta sandwiches and in came salads, lovingly crafted at home every evening. I resolved finally to give in and join a heath spa and gym.

My first trip to the Oasis Spa for Women was a tough one; I waited nervously in the beautiful white stone entrance lobby as they took my credit card. The women that passed me all seemed typical size eight types with flat stomachs and firm limbs. I hated to think how I looked to them. The receptionist even seemed to look at me with doubt as I paid up my two thousand pound fees.

I was surprised too when I was shown through the dark hardwood doors into the changing room. It was a large open plan room lined with more beautiful wooden lockers, but no changing cubicles.

I stood there in my work suit, feeling hugely out of place. There was no one there when I arrived, but the thought of undressing there when anyone could walk in on me filled me with terror.

I slid off my jacket and hung it in an empty locker, there was no going back. I undid the buttons on my blouse, slid it from my shoulders and hung it next to my jacket, I felt naked even just in my bra, and it was a nice sheer white mesh and hardly covered me at all. I slipped my trousers off and stood in my white cotton knickers. I always bought the same ones, light white cotton, a little see through, a thin triangle at the front and rear, with string links going over my hips. Sexy, not that anyone ever saw them.

Just then three women came in from the pool area, one shockingly naked, the others safely cosseted in thick white dressing gowns. One of them glanced over at me as I looked up at them too. I wasn't sure but I thought I felt a judgemental wince as she surveyed my out of shape form. Within seconds they were all three nude and in the showers, which were also open. They were discussing the relative merits of their partners or ex's and each of their personality flaws.

I reached behind my back unclipped my bra, and shrugged the straps off my shoulders, laying it in my locker, I felt exposed as one of the others, now covered in soft bubbles looked over at my breasts. I slid my thumbs into the side straps of my knickers and slid them down over my knees. I was standing now fully exposed to their critical view.

They all had beautiful firm breasts and waists, lithe arms and legs. I felt a little shamed by my somewhat flabby appearance in comparison.

They also had all shaved the lips of their pussies, and trimmed the region above into a neat triangle. It was a sexy look I had to say, and I could imagine a bloke liking it more. I thought that I might try it too.

I slipped on my black Speedo and put my supplied dressing gown on, luxuriating in the soft warm fluffy material. I then walked into the pool area.

It was a fabulously opulent environment they had created, an azure blue pool in a teardrop shape, surrounded by palms, a glass dome above. The walls were lined with multicoloured mosaic tiles, in a roman style. What surprised me however was that many of the fifteen or so women in or by the pool were nude. It was a women only spa but I was still surprised by the open nudity. Many of them were in great shape too and were showing off to my eyes. I was uneasy about my Victorian black Speedo, standing out like a whale at a dolphin park.

None the less I donned goggles and a hat and, feeling out of place, put in an hour of serious front crawl. I was a good swimmer at school and it was nice to revisit my old sport. Afterwards I got dressed quickly and left.

I got home and after an hours rest, decided that if I was going to attend the spa then I couldn't continue with the long tress of pubic hair. I had never shaved there before, never being an itsy bitsy bikini wearer, and a little overspill round my knickers never bothered me. I didn't want to face the beauties at the spa and their disapproval again.

I went into the bathroom and ran the bath. Stripping naked I slipped into the water, enjoying it as my skin was enveloped in the caressing flood. I took the short nail scissors and firstly gave my long bushy light brown curls a trim all over, leaving just a centimetre of hair. Next, I slipped out of the water and perched on the edge of the bath. I took the soap and rubbed it down over the lips of my pussy and all around. I could already feel my nipples hardening from the feel of the soap and bubbles rubbing the tip of my clit. The whole pubic area was by now covered with a thick layer of soapy foam.

I took the razor I normally used on my legs, put a new sharp blade in, and reached down between my legs, shaving from the top of my legs to the tip of my ever more swollen labia. My hand shook at a tingling excitement that passed through me at the feeling of metal on skin. I continued back to near my anus and was surprised by how excited I was by the sensation. I ran my hand over the new smooth skin and loved the silky feel and the new sensation of skin on skin it invoked on my pussy.

Above the lips I shaved back to a thin triangle, I didn't want to have that completely nude girl look, I would feel uncomfortable with. I washed away the remaining soap, stood and looked at myself in the large wall mirror. I was shocked by how explicit I looked. My pussy's lips nude and exposed, the inner lips just visible, swollen and waiting for more attention. I lay back down into the warm soapy water. I moved my finger down and slowly ran it round the area next to my clit, slowly ringing round and round as it became more aroused. My other hand moved down to the opening of my vagina, sliding a finger into the newly shaved entrance.

By now I had moved my legs wide open so each of my feet were draped over the edges of the bath. My other hand was now moving directly on my swollen clit, pressing gently as it moved over and round it. My vagina was screaming for penetration and I slipped my favourite cold hard marble dildo in. I tensed as I felt the coldness deep inside me. That hand pumped the cold rock hard into my pussy while my other hand rubbed my clit with ever more firm movements.

I slowly felt my first orgasm approaching as I imagined my favourite fantasy. I tensed my legs, pointing my toes as finally the waves of pleasure rolled over me, starting at my clit and exploding down through my legs, I gasped and then screamed quietly at the pleasure. As always, one orgasm was just the start and, having cum once my body demanded more. I pounded the dildo harder inside me, rubbing it against the wall of my pussy to arouse my g-spot. I came three times before getting out of the bath, drying myself and then moving through into my lounge to lie on the sofa. I was physically sated. I had my dressing gown on as I turned on the TV for a little light entertainment. Eight weeks of swimming, gym and a very, very sensible diet and I looked as well as I had in fifteen years, probably better. Now, when I went to the spa, I no longer changed hesitantly, ashamed of my form, but instead was confident of my new shape. My newly flat stomach, arms no longer flabby but trim and firm. My thighs too had thinned slightly and firmed up. My breasts were slightly smaller now; a B cup from a C but retained their firmness.

One day I went to the spa and, as I was changing, the three women I had seen on my first day came in at the same time. I had seen them a couple of times in the distance in the meantime. They were all still looking absolutely great, fit trim and sexy. I had seen them all together either sitting around in their dressing gowns, or swimming nude next to one another.

As I was slipping my knickers off, in preparation for pulling my black Speedo all-in-one on, one of them came up to me. I took her for the boldest of them as she rarely wore anything in the spa. She was about 5'6 with long strawberry blond hair, small breasts with nipples that pointed firmly upwards. I guessed she was 25, perhaps 28. Whenever I had seen her she had always been happy, smiling, at ease.

'Wow' she exclaimed 'look at you'.

I looked up at her in surprise, I was completely nude and was surprised to be approached by anyone.

'Oh hello' I replied hesitantly.

'You look great' she continued. 'I have been coming here for years but I have never seen such a quick transformation.'

She and her friends came up to me and were all standing studying my naked form.

'You looked OK before, but gosh, you look absolutely great now. I mean look at your arms and legs, trim fit lean.'

I looked down at my body self-consciously. I had never been studied in this way before; I had been generally pretty shy about any public exposure. It was true that, as with everything in life, I had really put all my efforts into getting into shape. While I felt uneasy about these three strangers looking at every detail of my nude body, I was also excited by the look on their faces.

There was a definite look of admiration, almost desire on the first woman's face. I watched her eyes as she drank in the details of my shoulders, breasts, stomach, pussy and legs.

'Well thank you very much.' I replied. 'It was well passed due for me to get into shape though. I figured I should look after my body.'

'Well you have certainly done that. You look good enough to eat. I'm Becky by the way, pleased to meet you.' She smiled and turned away, walking back to her locker before shrugging her dressing gown off and starting to dress.

'Pleased to meet you too'. I replied quickly, eager to be friendly.

'We'll be in the juice bar here for an hour or two after, if you'd like to join us.' She shouted back over her shoulder in my direction.

I was unsettled by the whole conversation. I was delighted to have my new found and hard won looks complimented, uneasy about the close study they had made of my body, and yet confused by the 'good enough to eat' remark.

I slipped my black swimming costume on and got my goggles out of my bag, preparing for a hard workout putting in an hour of lengths.

Becky came back up to me with a big grin on her face. By now she was wearing a skimpy white lace bra and matching lace knickers, that succeeded mainly in making her look more sexy and desirable rather than covering her up particularly. I was surprised how attracted I felt to her prior invitation.

'Look, no one is saying anything but, do you really need that old cossie. I think the general view is that it is a bit... hmmm... superfluous.' She inquired. 'You look great without it and surely the whole point of a girls only spa is that there are no blokes around. Swimming without it is great, you really should try it.'

'Really?' I replied. 'I don't think I would feel comfortable.' I wondered if she had a further agenda in fact.

'Well think about it, it is great.' She wandered off again to put on what I thought was a rather tight and short dress.

I walked through into the pool area and started my traditional blast up and down the pool. I was by far the fastest swimmer and took some pleasure in the way I slid silently through the water causing little splashing but leaving all the others in my wake.

As I was doing my lengths I started to reflect on her comments. Maybe I was being unnecessarily conservative. My newfound figure gave me more confidence in my body and besides; most of the other bathers were nude.

As the last few minutes came I decided to give it a go. When I got to the shallow end of the pool, I ducked my shoulders under the surface and slowly slipped the costume off my shoulders. I slid it down, pulled each leg up to step out of it and then threw the wet costume over to my dressing gown. I now stood naked in the pool, and was amazed how different it felt. It was true; the water seemed to caress me rather than the costume sticking to me. I swam for a few more lengths, luxuriating in the feeling as the water slid passed my nipples and between my legs. I could feel my body becoming aroused with the sensation. Eventually I got out and was also surprised how natural it felt to walk naked out of the pool. A few of the women lounging around the edges glanced at me but I had lost my feeling of self-consciousness.

I changed back into my black trouser suit that was my office standard and thought through what would be for dinner.

As I was passing through the entrance, I saw Becky and her two friends sitting in the juice bar, laughing at a shared confidence. I wandered over, and offered to buy them a new round of drinks. A minute later I sat down, carrying four berry smoothies.

'Hello everyone, I'm Clare.' I introduced myself. I shook their hands in what I think they thought of as a very formal way. Twelve years of business had left its mark on me.

'So did you do it?' Becky asked with the look of a curious terrier.

'What?' I replied, but I blushed knowing full well what she was referring to.

'You did, didn't you. Swim "au natural". I knew you would, you look to good to hide it any more.' Becky continued.

'Yes.' I conceded. 'You were right it did feel really good too.'

'Oh I know, I hate normal pools now. They seem horrible, with a costume sticking to you. Without is just so much more sensual, and just a little arousing. Don't you think.'