The dress

It’s early evening when I hear him come home. I’m fresh from the shower, towelling my hair in the bedroom.

‘Heya,’ he calls as he walks up the stairs, and stands in the doorway. ‘How are you? Is E down already?’

‘Yup,’ I say. ‘Fast asleep.’ I step towards him, still drying my hair. He smells of the outdoors. ‘Good day?’

‘Mmm yeah, not bad.’ He puts his hand on my bare back, and kisses me. ‘You smell nice... new shampoo?’

‘Yup,’ I reply. Close up, he smells of the farmyard. ‘You smell of cows!’

‘Ahh yeah, well, probably sheep actually. I need a shower.’ He pulls his jumper off over his head. ‘I’ve been at the Jones’s place all afternoon...’

I watch him undress, he pulls his tshirt off over his head, revealing his beautiful torso, the hard muscles of his arms, then his back as he turns, unbuttoning his jeans and pushing them down. He bends over to take them off, and I admire his bum, his hard, powerful thighs, the strong curve of his calves.

He throws his clothes into the basket, and walks past me, back towards the door, resting his hand on my back as he comes past. His naked body brushes quickly past mine, causing a flutter of arousal between my legs.

‘What’s for tea?’ I ask, watching his bum as he walks down the corridor.

He looks over his shoulder at me as he reaches the bathroom door. ‘Pizza, maybe. Or sausages? Or we’ve got some eggs...?’ He stops and stares at my body for a second, as I stand naked in the bedroom door, and I let my eyes wander over his. The muscles in his neck, the beautiful definition in his strong, toned arms. And his cock, hanging there, thick and sexy, and maybe slightly engorged? I feel another pulse of arousal between my legs.

‘Very nice,’ I say, absentmindedly, distracted from his question by my suddenly awakening pussy.

‘Anyway, whatever you fancy,’ he says, walking into the bathroom.

‘Mmmm,’ I say quietly, thinking about what I fancy, and it’s nothing to do with what’s for tea.

Still standing there, I drop one hand between my legs. I’m still wet from the shower, and the cool dampness on my lips mingles with my hotter, deeper wetness as I curl my fingers between them, causing warm, tingling pulses of pleasure as I brush them over my clit.

I hear the shower start and the swish of the curtain, and I stand there for a few moments more, thinking about my boyfriend’s body, hard and hot and wet, feeling my clit become a firm, slippery bud under my soft wet fingertips.

I give a soft moan and pull my hand away, making myself wait. I still have the towel in my hair, and I carry on drying it with both hands, turning to the mirror on the wardrobe door. I watch myself in the mirror as I scrub my hair, pulling it clear of the towel then letting it fall. My whole body is alive with arousal now, my nipples hard, and my damp hair falling against them causes more sparks of desire to fizz between my legs.

I open the wardrobe and survey the contents of my underwear shelf. What can I put on before he comes out the shower? There’s not much, what little sexy underwear I own is mostly back in London. There’s a nice bodysuit, but it’s not clean - I pull it from the washing basket and give it a sniff, then quickly throw it back. Not sexy!!!

Back at the wardrobe, my eyes land on the latex dress, one of the few things I have on a hanger, alongside my boyfriend’s shirts.

Do I have time to put it on? It can be tricky, especially over damp skin. The shower is still running, he always spends a while in there. I have time.

I lift the dress from its hanger, and lie it on the bed, then grab a dry towel and dry myself again, removing as much dampness as I can. Rummaging on the dresser, I can’t find the baby powder... where the fuck is it?? I run to the bathroom and look in the cabinet... there it is!

‘You ok?’ says my boyfriend, from behind the curtain.

‘Yep,’ I say quickly, running back to the bedroom.

I sprinkle baby power liberally over myself and inside the dress, then carefully put it on. The latex is shiny, sexy and silky-smooth... I’m always fearful of tearing it, but I have no jewellery and short nails, and with plenty of powder it slides easily over my skin, hugging my body as I pull it into place.

It already looks great, the black and white stripes tightly hugging my body, making curves where I have none normally, and I’m struck again by how amazingly feminine it looks, and how startlingly sexy.

But there is still the small matter of the zip. Last time I put the dress on, I couldn’t do it... even just reaching it requires contortion. I manage to get hold and pull it up half way before getting stuck, just like last time. Twisting myself, I try to pull it from above, then from below, almost dislocating my arms in both directions, but it’s impossible... contorting to reach it stretches the dress, pulling the zip further apart. It’s catch 22.

I’m getting flustered, my previous arousal replaced with sweaty frustration, as I remember the other major feature of this dress... it is HOT! I’m already starting to cook, and the battle with the zip is not helping. In the background, I hear the shower stop and the swish of the curtain as he steps out.

I stand with my back to the door, facing the mirror, so he can see both sides of me as he walks into the room, drying himself with a towel. I tell myself maybe the half-closed zip shows a provocative glimpse of my back.

He throws his towel nonchalantly onto the bed as he walks past, and walks up behind me. Sexy. With warm hands, he draws the dress together and pulls the zip up to the top.

I turn and lift my head, looking at him over my shoulder. ‘Thanks,’ I say.

‘My pleasure,’ he says, sliding his hands around my waist. ‘Are you off out somewhere?’

‘Nah,’ I say, all casual, looking back at myself in the mirror. ‘Just checking it still fits.’

‘Mmm, I think it definitely fits.’ He moves his hands over my body, sliding them over my hips, and stomach, then up to my breasts. His hands feel hot through the latex, mingling with the heat of his naked torso pressed against my back. ‘It fits very nicely,’ he says.

I turn my head towards him, and he kisses me over my shoulder, his lips gentle against mine, gradually opening wider as our tongues meet. He holds me tight against him as we kiss, one hand holding my breast, the other roaming over my hips, then my bum, sliding over the smooth latex.

I break reluctantly away from the kiss, and turn to face him. He smells deliciously of coconut shampoo, his chest hair still glistening wet from the shower. His cock is already fully hard, standing between us, brushing my stomach as I turn towards him. I reach down and hold it gently in one hand, enjoying the silky smooth skin over the hot, hard core.

‘This dress is hot,’ I say, as my eyes meet his.

‘Hot as fuck,’ he says, sliding his hands over my back, then my bum.

‘No I mean, it’s boiling!’ I brush beads of sweat from my forehead. ‘I might have to take it off...’

‘No,’ he says, assertively. ‘Not yet.’

He holds my bum and kisses me again, deep and passionate this time, our mouths together, lips and tongues sliding over each other, hot and wet and so, so sexy.

I stroke his cock as we kiss, rock hard in my hand, as my pussy comes back alive in a rush of fierce, hot, urgent arousal.

He moves his hand under the dress from behind, holding my bum then pushing his fingers between my legs. I pull him close against me, still stroking his cock, feeling it throb in my hand as he strokes my wet lips, slipping his fingers between them, playing with the opening of my cunt.

He breaks away from the kiss and moves his hand back onto my bum, still under the dress. ‘Come here,’ he says, low and sexy.

He takes a step backwards, then another, pulling me with him as he sits on the end of the bed. Following his lead, I straddle his legs and sit on his lap, leaning forward again to meet his lips, hungry for more kisses.

For several minutes we kiss, me sitting on his knee, stroking his cock as his hands roam over and under the dress, stroking my breasts and bum, my legs, my thighs, fingering my soaking wet cunt then moving away. And my temperature builds with my arousal, sweat breaking from my forehead and running down my nose as I get hotter and hotter. The pleasure from his hands and the aching, urgent throb of pleasure in my cunt mingles with the heat and sweat, turning the discomfort into something hot, almost animalistic in its rawness.

The dress is bunched up around my waist now, he’s stroking my clit and sliding his fingers inside me as we kiss, and I can’t wait any longer to have his cock hard inside me.

I slide forward on his lap, my legs spread either side of his, still holding his cock in my hand. Lifting myself onto my knees, I guide him between my legs, sliding his erection easily between my lips and into the entrance of my cunt. I’m soaking, dripping wet. Moving my hands to his shoulders, I rock forward and down, and give a clear, involuntary shout of pleasure as his cock slips effortlessly deep inside me.

I bring my lips back onto his. My face is running with sweat now, my whole body is wet with it, slippery and prickly hot, fiercely uncomfortable, yet somehow mingling with the deep, powerful pleasure in my pussy to create something new and powerful and fierce.

Consumed with raw, animalistic passion, I ride him hard, crying out with each downward thrust, my still damp hair slapping his face as sweat runs down my forehead and neck and drips onto his body.

The pleasure is indescribable. Deep, burning, and so intense, it builds and builds as I fuck him, my head lifted away now, my fingers gripping his shoulders, digging in hard as I reach a final peak of almost blinding pleasure. Shaking, grinding hard, I pull his body tight against mine as I start to come.

His breath is fast and ragged against my chest. ‘Come with me,’ I say, breathless and urgent, rocking hard against him as my orgasm explodes through me.

‘Yes, yes’ he says, grunting with his own pleasure, as my pussy pulses with hard, blissful contractions, sending wave after wave of built-up pleasure, out from my cunt, through my clit, coursing through my body.

‘Fuck,’ I say, shaking, endorphins flooding my body. ‘Fuck.’

He grunts and thrusts up into me again, and I rock against him, sliding over his cock, riding the blissful aftershocks of my orgasm as he cums deep inside me.

My arms wrapped around him, he pulls me close, and we hold each other as our pleasure passes and our mutual breathing gradually starts to slow. Giggling now, I lift my head away from his.

A small river of sweat runs off my nose. More streams are running down my neck, over the dress. I lift myself away from him, unsure whether it’s sweat or cum which runs down my legs, or a mixture of both.

‘Seriously, I have got to get out of this dress, before I fucking die,’ I say. He wipes my sweat from his face, flicking it at me.

‘I told you it was fucking hot,’ I say, as he reaches behind me and pulls down the zip. Blissful cool air hits my shoulders.

‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘You’re not wrong. It’s hot as fuck.’