Fiona's Weekend Part II
written by:
Towtruck 73

Sharon and Fiona walked down Hay Street Mall, the main shopping centre in the Perth CBD. Along the way, they walked into various stores, merrily picking outfits without even the slightest consideration to price tags. Fiona had started the day in blue denim jeans, a black AC/DC T-shirt and a tatty pair of joggers. She returned to the car in an electric blue cocktail dress, and a pair of high- heeled sandals. At first she had the gait a newborn giraffe, but soon mastered them. "Next we do something about your hair and makeup. You're naturally pretty, with great curves, so you should do something with them." "I'm not lopping off my hair." Protested Fiona. "Never suggested that. I mean, a professional of the type that does my hair, is something you've never been treated to. I'm giving you a complete overhaul. Besides, Patrick deserves a reward for being so good to you." "Does he what. If you taught him massage, you could teach professionally. That bloke is going to have a lot of conquests if he wants them." "Good to see you two hit it off so well. Here we are, time for your glamour makeover."

Sharon ushered her into the beauty parlour, and all eyes turned as one to Fiona and Sharon. The manager just about sprinted to the counter. "Sharon," she gushed, "long time no see. What brings you here?" "A full makeover Kerry, no expense spared." "Honey, you don't need my help-" "Not for me, for Fiona here. We want her glamorous, but she's told me not to hack off her hair." "No way! It would be a crime to cut her hair short. Do you have anything in mind before we start dear?" "I trust your judgement, but I like my hair the colour and about the length it is now. I'm open to suggestions for everything else." "I know we can make you a model love," said Kerry reassuringly, "we just have to define your style." "I've never really had a chance to play with clothes, hair and makeup, so tell me what you'd do."

The entire staff bustled around her like the pit crew around a race car. They waxed her legs, plucked her eyebrows, shaped and painted her nails, scrubbed her pores, and restyled her hair. Anything that could be fixed or enhanced was attended to. For the finishing touch, they bleached her teeth to a shade of white normally only seen on new piano keys. Kerry swept away the debris from around Fiona, and invited her to stand in front of a full-length mirror. She stared in bewilderment at her reflection. "That is not me," she said, "that cannot possibly be me." "It is, I assure you," said Kerry, "how come you never had a chance to do anything like this before?" "Never had time. I ran my house from an early age, so time was at a premium. Thanks for a great makeover." "My pleasure. Any friend of Sharon's is a friend of mine." "What do I owe you?" "Sharon said she'd pay for it, but I'm going to do a ‘Cinderella' on you. You don't owe me a cent, but you won't go back to your old self at midnight." "Thanks, but I really should learn how to do some of this for myself." "Whenever you're in Perth, drop in and see me and I'll show you how."

"I have to say it too," teased Sharon, "if I were a bloke, I'd want to sleep with you. We have one more phase of this rebuild: lingerie." "Never had sexy undies before either." "You'll enjoy it, trust me. Were you a tomboy by choice or necessity?" "Necessity. Being girly was a luxury I couldn't afford. Thanks for doing this for me." "You and Dave helped me at my darkest hour, how could I not return the favour, with the resources at my disposal?"

Fiona and Sharon drove to an exclusive lingerie shop in Subiaco, a suburb that borders the Perth CBD. On spotting Sharon, the sales staff immediately raced to her side. "How can we help you?" asked Fleur the manager. "Not so much what you can do for me, but what you can do for my friend here. The sexiest undies she owns are white and cotton. No expenses spared, I want her to feel like a goddess." "No problem, do you know your sizes dear?" "I take a 14C bra, and a Size 12 in knickers." "Let's measure you anyway, just to be sure. Lift your top please."

Fiona let the assistant run a tape around her boobs. "What idiot told you that you were a 14C? By my measurements, it's more like a 14D. You get chafing under the cups right?" "Yes, but I never had professional help for all this. I believe you though." "What do you see that you like?" "That black lacy number looks good, do you have undies to match?" "I'll get you one, right away."

Fiona tried on several bras, a couple of corsets, and about five bodysuits. She wore a black satin bra and panties out of the shop. She smiled as she felt the satin caress her arse and pussy. "Now I see what the big deal about satin is," she quipped, "I love how this feels. Thanks for doing this." "You're welcome. Patrick won't know what hit him!"

Later that evening, Sharon had booked a table at a Northbridge restaurant known for its great atmosphere and outstanding seafood. He had arrived before her, dressed in a black suit minus the tie. As he saw her enter, his eyes bulged. "What's the matter," she teased, haven't you seen a model before?" "Are you the same woman I met last night?" "I could rattle off details to prove it, but yes it is me. Sharon had some work done on me." "You look amazing. For a few seconds, I thought I was seeing things." "I know, I look like a Bogan most of the time, but this is a change for the better." "I should warn you though, if any photographers see us, don't be surprised if you see your picture in tomorrow's paper." "I'll bear that in mind, but it doesn't bother me."

Fiona and Patrick became totally engrossed in their conversation, oblivious to the stares of neighbouring tables. Patrick explained that he was a country boy from Merredin, a farmer's son whom happened to be noticed by the right people at the right time. In the off-season, he returns to the farm to help with the harvest, and to catch up with his family. Fiona told him that hers was a depressing story. And did he really want to know? He said he did, because he liked her. She went through many painful details, right up to where she was recruited by Dave. "They say we footballers are heroes. That is rarely true, it's people like you. In spite of all you've been through, you still manage to find a way to break through. How could I not care?" "You could have a Playboy life if you wanted to," noted Fiona, "why would you find boring old me so fascinating?" "I've been to a few club dos where there's literally models throwing themselves at me and other team members. Once you scrape away the lip-gloss, cocktail dresses and big boobs, there's not much to them. Give me a girl with brains and spirit any day." "And here I was thinking you were another boofhead footballer," she teased, "yet you surprise me even more. I thought thinkers weren't allowed on the field, unless they're coaches." "I have to hide it really well," he quipped, "so far, they haven't clued on yet."

On a couple of occasions, Fiona caught Patrick glancing down her top. "Not now," she teased, " you'll find out what's under this dress later tonight." "You tease!" "I know you love it though." "You're right, I do. I also love unwrapping my presents." "Careful, the boofhead footballer is trying to sneak up again." "I'm a farm boy, most of the women from my neck of the woods are tomboys."

Fiona and Patrick tore through their crayfish and salad as if they hadn't eaten for days. They ate a little tiramisu for dessert, and headed for Scarborough Beach. For a while, they sat on a towel gazing at the stars over the ocean. He draped his arm over her shoulder, and said, "amazing how you look up at the stars, and you see it all so clear on the beach. Step back a hundred metres and it's through a foggy orange light. Reminds me of what they look like on the farm."

Without either saying a word, they held a lingering kiss. In her eyes, Patrick saw a spark of mischief that was unmistakable. At 10pm on a weekday summer night, Scarborough beach is still not deserted. If it's a hot night, almost as many people that are there during the day are still there at night. A few remained now, but Fiona suggested they move further into the dunes. Patrick picked up the rug and followed her to a more secluded place in the dunes away from the shore. She lay on the rug, and stared deeply into his eyes. "If only your team mates could see you now," she teased, "you'd never live it down."

At Fiona's suggestion, they returned to the car. On returning to the hotel room, Patrick turned on some jazz music. Slow, soulful tunes to inspire a romantic atmosphere. Fiona smiled. "You're revealing all your secrets to me, that's a lot of trust. Footballers aren't supposed to be cultured either. Where's the Jimmy Barnes and other pub music?" "I trust you because you're not some airhead bimbo who wants to brag to her friends about me, or sell the story to the papers." "If they did try and corner me, I'd just say ‘ask him.' I don't mind if you talk about me to your friends, I have less to lose than you do." "Thanks. That is a relief. You have no idea what it means to me to find someone I can just be myself around. You and Sharon are some of those few." "Come here you, you're getting too soppy." She leaned in and kissed him, before pushing him down to the bed. She knelt astride him, and kissed him, before unbuttoning his shirt. She had his fly open and pants down in what seemed like seconds. She had him naked within two minutes. She slowly stroked his cock, then licked and sucked it to full hardness. As soon as she had him hard as a rock, she stood in front of him, brought him to his feet and kissed him. He returned her kiss with a tenderness that belied his muscular frame. He then kissed her neck, moving down to her shoulders. Unzipping the back of her dress, he eased the straps from her shoulders, and slid it down over her arse. He smiled when he noticed the black lacy bra and panties. "When you do sexy, you really do sexy." He noted, "It'll be fun to unwrap the rest of you." "I bought ‘em for easy access. See the bows holding them together?"

Patrick noticed both her bra and panties had tie sides, neatly held up in bows. He pulled the ends of the bow on her bra, and her breasts fell out of it. He lovingly licked and sucked her nipples, before yanking the bows either side of her panties. They fell from her hips, and she was now completely naked. As she stood in front of him, he ran his tongue along the lips of her pussy, before slipping it in. She could feel her legs buckling beneath her, and fell back onto the bed. Patrick's eager tongue had her bucking and writing in ecstasy. She could feel a climax building and warned Patrick. He smiled and just said, "let go, and just enjoy yourself."

Fiona gripped the sheets, and let out a guttural grunt of pleasure. As she recovered, Patrick clambered over her, licked her nipples, then slowly slid his tool into her. Again he started slow, but soon his arse was a blur. She soon had the amazing experience of uncontrollable orgasms. They kept washing over her like waves on a beach. Soon he could take no more, and pulled out, coming in a large spurt over her boobs. He collapsed beside her, and kissed her tenderly. "Well, weren't we a horny boy," teased Fiona, "I've never been shagged like that before." "I can't help it. You look really hot, and seeing you naked makes me really horny. How could I not be turned on?" "I see your point, and feel the same way about you. Now let's get in the shower and clean up."

Fiona led Patrick to the shower, and they spent a good half hour under the water. Patrick couldn't resist the urge to take her doggie style in the shower, before coming over her back. They soaped each other off, and went to bed in each other's arms.

The following morning, Sharon arrived at their door. Both Fiona and Patrick walked to the door in bathrobes. She laughed, and teased, "well somebody had too much fun last night. Fiona, I'm ashamed of you, corrupting such an innocent country boy like this." "Innocent isn't the word I'd use," quipped Fiona, "he's so good, I'm surprised it's not illegal." "Well I had a lot of inspiration," added Patrick, "not only is she sexy as hell, she's fun to be around. What more could a man want?"

With more than a little regret, Fiona had to say goodbye to Patrick. He kissed her, and said, "When can I see you again?" "Whenever you have a free weekend, or if you can come and visit me. Just remember to travel discreetly, and we can have all the time in the world to ourselves."

As Fiona stepped into the passenger's seat of the Senator, Sharon smiled at her. "So have you had fun?" she asked. "The best. Thanks for introducing me to Patrick, he's a real sweetie underneath the grunt footballer." "I had an idea you two would get along. Enjoy him while you have him." "Eh?" "For all we know, he might get traded to another club, or things may change. Make the most of the time you have."

The limo rolled to a halt on the forecourt of the roadhouse. Sharon and Fiona stepped out, the latter in both glamour makeup and a cocktail dress. "Who the hell is that?" Joked Dave. "And hello to you Dave," said Fiona, with sarcasm as thick as a mallet, "can't a girl frock up every now and again?" "I knew you were attractive under the Bogan clothes, but I never expected this."