What shall I wear? He is so hard to please and if I don’t please him he doesn’t please me as I want.
My wardrobe is extensive and I don’t remember what is was that I wore last time we were together. OK, the clothes are cheap but I have buy where I can afford the prices; in the main at shops with sales on.
My indecision makes me even more nervous and befuddles my brain so that I have to grab blindly at items and take them to the bed.
Hmm, a ball gown, have I worn this recently? He will be mad with me if I have. There is no point in changing it, he will be here soon so I change into it.
The mirror tells me a lie and at a glance I appear to look glamorous; hair pinned up, long gloves, high heels. Under the dress I wear his favourite; scoop bra, french knickers, suspenders, a garter and old fashioned stockings with a seam. All this is topped up with just a soupçon of his favourite french perfume; not too much but just enough for him to look at me, raise an eyebrow in question and for me to nod in affirmation.
Now I have to stand around till he gets here because the dress is so tight that if I sat down my boobs, already overflowing the low neckline, would simply pop out.
Five minutes seem like five hours but finally I hear steps in the corridor outside my apartment and I jump at the loud knocking at the door.
My heart leaps when, as soon as he sees me in the open doorway his face beams as his gorgeous blue eyes rake my body from head to toe and back. He says nothing but pulls me to his big body almost squeezing the breath out of me, his lips mash against mine and his tongue invades my mouth. I don’t smoke so the taste of cigarette smoke almost makes me cough, but I fight it for he for be angry if I do.
In the tight dress I struggle to match his stride as he walks me backwards into my room. His face is pressed hard into the bare flesh of my boobs and I feel his drool seep between them. Strong hands grip my ass to the point of pain. Although I struggle for breath as his kiss never ends, I must not try to break away or I fear he may get angry and leave; that has happened before and I need him so! A trip on the hem of the dress causes me to stumble breaking the kiss and I wait for his anger but he is amused and laughs, picking me up as if I weighed nothing. I am thrown on the bed which protests with a groan; I must try to afford another.
Predictably he raises my legs and peers under the dress which, despite the tightness slips up my legs and affords a brief view of stockings. Grabbing a foot he takes the toe of a shoe in his mouth and sucks hard; I giggle then moan in simulated ecstasy.