Clear your mind here
Was†edYou†h on We Heart It.
Your pulse raced when he called earlier and said to you, “I’ve bought you a dress.”
“Take everything you’re wearing off, except your garter and stockings. I’ll be there in 5 minutes. I want you to look perfect tonight.”
Knowing he would do this, as he always has in the past, you were already sitting, patiently waiting in your garter and stockings only. Rule number 1 after all is “There are only three acceptable undergarments: Stockings, Garters and Corsets.” As such, you owned nothing else.
Did he want sex before you left for the party? Should you be sexy for his arrival? Or was tonight a no-nonsense event. You know there would be clients from his firm there. Maybe you were to wait submissively, prepared to go when he arrived. It was the tense moments when you were unsure that you feared the most. What was his mood going to be tonight?
He arrived exactly when he said he would. Through the front door with shopping bags and a box in his hands. The names unmistakable, Prada, Dior, Elie Saab. Now for the fun, he always dresses you. He placed the bags on the table and one by one started to unveil the contents. First, the box. A beautiful black dress. Fully sleeved arms and long, flowing to the floor, but form fitting, to show off your curves. It was quite classy. “Arms up” he instructed, to which you complied.
He lifted the dress over you and slowly let it drop. As it fell draping over your shoulders and down your body he fitted your arms through the sleeves. His hands ran over your body, smoothing the fabric: your hips, your ass, your stomach, your back and breasts. His touch electrified you. His hands gathered on your back at the top of the crevice of your ass. One hand ran up your skin as the other tugged upwards on the zipper. When you were zipped up he again ran his hands over you. This time starting on your shoulders, lingering on your breasts, down your torso again to your stomach, waist and around you. His breath on your neck, he held you close. The moment seemed an eternity.
The next was a box, taken from a bag, and from the box, shoes. He knelt in front of you, looking up into your eyes. Rule number 2 “Never, ever break eye contact”. You stared back at him. For some reason he always bought shoes a half size too small for your feet. Although, the shoes were exceptional. Black, high heels, Italian leather, no doubt. He gripped your calf and you slid your foot into the shoe. Just as you wished he’d slide into you. Was the shoe size a metaphor for his cock? It was always just slightly bigger and forced into you. As your feet were forced into the shoes. You were definitely not Cinderella. The pinch of your toes, adjusting to the tightness. As he forced the second shoe on, his gaze returned to your eyes. Unwavering you are.
His hands move upwards, from your outer calves to your inner thighs. Your dress travels with his hands, caught on his wrists. His motion is fluid. No hesitation, until midway up your thigh he stops. He parts your legs. He knows what he wants and soon, you feel his fingers penetrate you. No sooner than they entered then he removes them, and tastes you. He swallows your juices deeply and his fingers return to explore where they had just left. His thumb finds your clitoris, engorged and waiting for his touch. “We may be late..” you weakly offer. You realize that you will pay for interrupting later, but you thought it was important to remind him.
“We will be late.” He corrected you. He was commanding. His voice brings you to the precipice of orgasm. It was worth whatever punishment you will receive. Now, this is where rule number 2 is hard. You want to throw your head back, you want to cry out, you want to close your eyes and power yourself through the oncoming waves of orgasm. You continue to stare into his eyes. Your mouth gaped open, wishing he would fill it with his cock. You know he won’t give in. He is unrelenting, his fingers explore. Nobody in the world knows you like he does. As you cum he moves his face closer to yours. Still maintaining eye contact. He pulls you closer, your orgasms crashing into one another. Your legs twitch, and you can no longer remain. Your eyes close and he kisses you. His other hand wraps around your neck as he pulls you in. Your body convulses, and he slows his rhythm. He lets you descend and not crash. As if he’s lowering you in his arms.
As you regain your breath he returns for the next bag. In it a purse. Small, black. Leather to complete the ensemble. In the purse he removes a black silk handkerchief. He comes back and kneels before you again. Using the handkerchief he cleans you up. When you are adequately composed he folds the handkerchief and puts it in his jacket pocket, “For later”.
The drive to the event is uneventful. Your sorrow grows as you enter the ballroom. For you will soon be parted.
Hours of mingling has taken it’s toll, dinner is polite, if not boring. You catch glimpses of him working the room. The youngest partner in the history of the firm. If only they knew of his real prowess.
And then you felt his hand, unmistakable on your shoulder as he approached from behind. “I’ve come to collect on my payment” he said. You quiver again, reminiscing..
“Your payment, Jeffrey?”
“Yes sir. I was promised a dance, in exchange for driving your beautiful wife this evening. I’ve come to collect.”
Your hand reaches up to meet his.
this is 911 state your emergency
YES I NEED HELP IMMEDIATELY I CAN’T FIND MY LIZARD
911 I THINK MY LIZARD IS BROKEN
YOU THINK YOU’VE GOT PROBLEMS? MY PHONE SEEMS TO HAVE LOST IT’S LEGS
911 I CAN’T GET MY PHONE OFF THE RECEIVER
MA’AM YOUR PHONE NEEDS TO BE IN THE UNLOCKED POSITION AND MAY NEED TO BE PROVIDED WITH ADDITIONAL HARDWARE TO FUNCTION CORRECTLY.
YES HELLO 911 CAN YOU HEAR ME I DROPPED MY HEADSET IN THE WATER DO YOU READ
TO BE HONEST 911, I AM NOT SURE WHAT MY PHONE IS DOING
911 MY PHONE IS FACING THE WRONG WAY AND I CAN’T GET IT TO TURN AROUND.
yes 911 hello all these people are crazy
this is still going around and it makes me rly happy.
Goofy is a widower whose only family and reminder of his wife is his son Max.