The Liberation of Jane

The Liberation of Jane
“Whew, this is great champagne,” my wife Denise exclaimed, as she polished off her second glass of it.

“ Yeah, we don’t drink it very often but when we do we go for the good stuff,” Bob responded, “Would you open the other bottle hon,” he said to Jane, who was already on her way to the kitchen.

“My pleasure” she said back at us she entered the kitchen.

We have known Bob and Jane for years, but we have never really socialized like this before. We had been over to their house for an occasional picnic with lots of other people crossed paths at some charity events and even on a few occasions did dinner and a movie together. We never became close friends however, I guessed partly because Jane exhibited absolutely no response to any playful flirting that I did. It’s how I usually relate to women and probably why I never really related well with Jane.

Besides, Bob and Jane had been busy restoring this old New England stone farmhouse for as long as we’ve been acquainted and finally it was completed. It was a home to be proud of. They invited us over for dinner to show it off to us.

We could hear the cork pop and a minute or so later Jane reentered from the kitchen with a small tray and 4 fresh flutes of champagne along with the remaining bottle.

“Oh this is going to be trouble”, I said as Jane handed a flute to each one of us.

“How so?” Jane asked, more teasingly than in her typical matter-of-fact way.

“Because, if we don’t get something more than salad in us before we drink this bottle we might not make it through dinner.” I complained.

“Well, let’s eat then,” she said as she lifted the lid from the manicotti. There’s more salad too.” Attractive in a prim classy style, Jane seemed unusually vivacious this evening. Her beauty seemed born of an inner sense of independence or perhaps loneliness and the strength of which often manifests itself in a sense of reserve. She generally struck me as guarded and proper in her manner and dress, prudish even. She always concealed beneath layers of high necklines bulky sweaters and frumpy dress a body that was still easily discernable as stunning.

Tonight Jane was a different woman. Her face and eyes were unusually active and vibrantly playful. She was breathtaking in her red and black satiny dress. Even though it completely covered her front from neck to knees the dress was refreshingly sexy for Jane. The satin was suspended from a choke type collar and it draped and clung to her flowing breasts, cinched in at her narrow waist and fluttered from her girlish hips. She wore no bra. Her long auburn hair was twisted up and skewered behind her head. The back of the dress was open and revealed a strong well-toned upper back and body. As we began eating I was feeling the effect of the champagne a bit, but Bob and Denise, I noticed, were getting downright sloppy already. When Denise gets sloppy she gets loose and frisky. I could see it coming from a mile away.

“I noticed when you gave us the tour that you didn’t have a hot tub,” she said slurring her words a little.

I was surprised at Bob answering back in an equally slurred way, “Nope, we wanted to preserve the antique quality of the house.” A trim, muscular guy, Bob did almost all of the restoration work by himself and judging from the quality of his work was painstaking and patient. I was surprised he was turning out to be such a lightweight drinker.

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