Weekly Dress-Up

I watched David slip his size fifteen foot into brand new black microfishnets. He unrolled the first leg slowly, carefully sliding up it up his muscular runner’s calf. His legs were tan and smooth from a thorough shaving session in the shower. I could still smell the soapy steam wafting out of the bathroom. It was pleasant and refreshing in the summer air of our apartment.

I pulled my eyes away from David’s foot and leg to survey the rest of the picture. He was reclined on our white down comforter, his body shiny from the body butter I’d rubbed so carefully all over his body.

His blonde hair was freshly cut, his eyebrows never groomed, but not too bushy. His chest was muscular, body beautifully clean but masculine –biceps so ripe and perfect I wanted to eat them like fruit. He spent a lot of time outdoors so his skin was delectably tan. His dark blue eyes with flecks of brown topped off his gorgeous looks like whipped cream to a sweet vanilla with caramel sundae. My mouth watered while taking in the scene.

He stuck his other foot into the corresponding side, rolled it up halfway and slid off the comforter to the floor. Rolling the fishnets up to his waist, he adjusted the waistband of his black bikini underwear that sat just underneath the sexy fishnets.

I played the observer, sitting silently in the corner in our big blue chair. I’d put my hair back in a ponytail and was comfortably dressed in a pair of little white shorts and a tight white tank minus a bra. We had our windows open, our ceiling fan going. It was the evening; the sun was in the process of setting.

David liked to do this about once a week. I’d never know when he’d feel the need to make himself pretty but when he did, I relaxed and watched him. If ever he needed help shaving, lotioning, or dressing, I was always there, waiting to help him. The first time he put on his eyeliner in front of me I had stepped in.

“Here let me help, I’d said. I grabbed the black stick out of his hand and told him to close his eyes. “You looked like you were going to poke your eye out, for godsakes! He didn’t get angry at that comment but just smiled, keeping his eyes closed. “Thanks, baby, he said, when he opened his eyes and turned toward the large mirror in the bathroom. After inspecting my work, he turned around, put his arms around me, and kissed me.

Tonight he was going to put on a black skirt and a blue silky sleeveless shirt that matched the color of his eyes.  He’d already done his makeup, his eyes covered with a pale eye shadow the black eyeliner delicately lining his eyes. He’d used a little bit of mascara to decorate his long lashes. Pale pink gloss shone on his lips.

While he’d been working on his face, I’d been cooking dinner, peeking into the bathroom every few minutes to watch his transformation.  I had a casserole cooking in the oven for a couple of hours and a bottle of chardonnay chilling in the refrigerator.

He put one foot inside the skirt and then the other before pulling it up. In the full-length mirror behind our door he looked like a mannequin, so chiseled and perfect in every bit of his appearance. Although I usually gave him space to dress, I couldn’t help but come up behind him and touch his arms while staring at his shapely back. My fingernails, always slightly long and definitely manicured, tickled his triceps. He lifted his arms up, encouraging me to keep going. Little bumps formed on his flesh. My lips went to his back, kissing it all over.

I felt myself getting wet, my fingers moving to the front of his body, scratching his tight abs and stiff nipples. My lips opened for my tongue to explore his back. Barely touching it, I ran the tip of my tongue up his spine as far as I could reach. He was considerably taller than me.  I stood on the tips of my toes. His body responded to the contact. He breathing changed. When my hand slipped between his thighs and underneath his skirt, his cock was pressed against his underwear, nearly ready to burst free.  Stroking it a few times through the material, I realized that I was moving too fast. The casserole still had time to cook and he wasn’t even dressed yet.

I backed away.

“Finish getting ready, I said, stepping toward the chair, but not sitting this time.  I crossed my arms and stood flat on my feet. They sunk into the carpet, imprinting themselves. I was stuck to the spot until he finished.

One more look in the mirror and David turned around to the bed where the silk shirt was sitting. He delicately grabbed it and placed it over his head, the silk shimmering down his torso.

“Don’t smudge your makeup, I interjected. He glanced over and gave me a slight dirty look for even mentioning it.

“I’m a pro, he said. “Don’t worry.

The material fell nicely around his body. I almost moaned but kept my sounds to myself. I wanted to fuck him right now.

If anyone ever ventured under our bed they’d find a wonderful collection of high heels in size fifteen. Tonight David chose simple black pumps. When he slipped them on, he seemed extraordinarily tall. I felt dwarfed as I stood barefoot on our bedroom carpet. Sometimes he didn’t wear shoes at all so whenever he put them on, I was thrown off for a few seconds.

He took large strides over to his nightstand and pulled open the drawer. After fishing around for a while he pulled out a necklace and two rings and set them on the comforter.

Usually a hands-off observer, tonight, clearly, I felt different. I slid my right hand down my shorts while he latched the necklace around his neck and popped on his rings.

It took him a second to realize what I was doing, but when he did, he smiled.

“Hey, what’s going on over there?

He walked toward me, steadily on his heels. Sometimes I thought he was better than I was at walking in them. Our eyes locked. When he reached me, he kicked his shoes off softly.

“But you just put them on, I said, looking up at him, my heart racing.  No matter how he was dressed, he always turned me on.  Whether he was putting on a suit, a t-shirt and jeans, or fishnets, my pussy moistened from the sight of him.

“I can do without them for a little while, he said, putting his hands on me.

He put his lips to mine and tenderly kissed me. I felt the blood pumping through my body and needed something more than that.  My tongue spread his slick pink lips and went inside to taste his mouth. I sucked on his bottom lip and put my hand, once again, between his thighs. He returned the favor and put his hand down the front of my shorts to play with my clit. I moaned loudly and started pushing him toward the bed. As he flicked and massaged, I raised his skirt and pulled down the waistband of his fishnets to get closer to his cock.

I suddenly felt animalistic. I pulled the underwear down roughly, being only slightly careful not to injure David. His cock popped out. I put my mouth around it and sucked, weaving my fingers inside holes of the fishnets. David moaned, lying flat on the bed, his shirt having moved up when I pushed him down. I could see his abs when I tilted my head to see if he was enjoying my mouth work.

I was on my back and before I knew what happened, David’s finger found its way into my pussy making sure it was ready for him. He shoved his cock inside me and I screamed. He was still fully clothed, his fishnets and underwear around his ankles, his skirt hiked up around his waist. He fucked me hard and quickly. I grabbed his tight ass and he grabbed mine, going deeper into my soaking cunt.  I bit his shoulder; he dug his fingers into my ass.

“Look at me when you cum, he whispered.

I panted, my breath catching in my throat. I was about ready to explode. I met his eyelined eyes and lost it. My pussy contracted, the cum pouring out onto both of us.

He came almost immediately after, the silk of his shirt bunched up in between us. I gripped it and took all of him inside me.

After he was finished we stayed entwined for a couple of minutes. He smelled too good to let go immediately. When he rolled off of me I sighed.

“What’s wrong? David asked, reaching over and touching my arm.

“I just can’t believe you didn’t smudge your eyeliner at all, I said, smiling.


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