For the burlesque I went shopping for a 40s-style dress and ended up buying two. I have a weakness for pretty dresses, it seems.

So does Mister. In seeing me in them. Seeing me half out of them also.

As a girl is wont to do, I will try on my purchases when I arrive home. This results in parading of said purchases in front of Mister to see what he thinks (whilst also surreptitiously removing evidence of the price). With the dresses, I wanted to see which was the more suitable for the ‘Dress to Impress’ prerequisite on the flyer (or is it flier? hmm). I twirled for him. My moment of girliness. Showing off and prancing. I should have known I was asking for trouble. Perhaps the flash of my seams was what did it. Whatever it was, I had a Mister swiftly following me into the bedroom.

He came up behind me and ran his hands up my legs and under the hem of the dress. It left no question to what he was after. He was insistent. He was direct. He was determined even after my protests. I didn’t want to dirty my pretty new dress this soon. Unfortunately I didn’t have a say in this.

You’re being very mischievous, I told him. His hands crept up to cup my buttocks and the cleft inbetween.

I don’t know what you’re talking about, he said, pulling me backwards to be closer to his body. I could sense the smile in his voice as he spoke.

I think you know very well, Mister. When I call him that I have mischief in my mind also. He picked up on my tone.

The next thing I knew he had tugged down my hosiery and bent me forward. My hands went out instinctively to steady myself on the bed in front of me. I made some surprised noises of shock, excitement and indignance mixed all together. How dare he take me like this!? I thought to myself. Yet these were conflicted with my body’s complete submission and arousal. The very idea of being taken like this, by mild force half against my will made my core sizzle and my pussy come alive. This was getting me off greatly.

One hand was placed on my back, ensuring I didn’t struggle. His other had raised my dress over my ass. In that position, semi-undressed with my underwear around my knees, I had an overwhelming sense of vulnerability. I felt myself getting hotter. The fire was still in my eyes from the indignancy and as I looked back behind me to stare him in the face, he had the devil about him.

Hot, quick, undignified sex. Neither of us were fully naked. He had undone his trousers and had placed a condom on his cock in no time at all. He repositioned me facing forward. My head impusively was lowered, hands splayed out in front of me. I prostrated myself in front of him, but in reverse.

We enjoy our quickies. They are always delicious and have that dirty sense of lust being fulfilled in that short, immediate experience. His thrusts were hard, fast and meaningful. He knew what was playing in my head, this fantasy of mine.

He left me in a crumpled disarray, breathing heavily face down on the bed. It was heavenly. The smile on my face put paid to the worry I had about dirtying my new dress. I didn’t care any more.

If only the credit crunch allowed me to go shopping more often.