D Is for Dress-Up

by Alison Tyler

  She splashed water on her face, put some on her hair and pulled her fingers through it until it gave in, bouncing back against her scalp in tight, wet curls.

  Paulette opened the door and stepped out, walking barefoot into the dining room in her new outfit. The breeze against her now-exposed legs and arms snapped her awake.

  She paused.

  Then she walked on.

  Maybe Paulette would never be the type of girl that guys like Warren could take home to their parents, and maybe that was just fine. But for now, she took her seat at the dinner table, extended her hand to his mother, and said, “Good evening, Mrs. Vaughn, I’m Paulette, and I’m very pleased to meet you.”

  A Long-HeLD FanTaSY

  DARLENE’S GUIDE TO SPICING UP YOUR SEX LIFE

  1. Food is fun to play with.

  2. Think “bondage of love.”

  3. You need a spanking, you naughty girl!

  4. Sensual massage and candlelight are not antique concepts.

  5. Create a buzz with battery-operated toys.

  6. Dressing up doesn’t necessarily mean going out.

  Andrea paused as she reached number 6. Now there was an idea she hadn’t considered in a long time. Skimming to the end of the article, she found the author’s suggestions for roles to act out.

  Be a mistress to his slave, a captive to his pirate, a schoolgirl to his principal. This isn’t a movie, so it doesn’t have to be fancy. Focus on the fantasy itself, instead.

  Her mind already running wild with the scenario she wanted to act out, Andrea grabbed her purse and keys and headed out the door. She had less than three hours before her husband and their roommate came home from work, and she had a whole slew of errands to run.

  A little more than two hours later, she pulled into the driveway and popped the trunk. After grabbing the bags from the costume store, the grocery store, and the adult shop out near the interstate, she hurried inside to set the stage. She was about to act out her secret fantasy. She was breathless already at the thought.

  After a quick shower, she donned her outfit and set about turning the master bedroom into a fantasy setting, perfect for the trio to play in. She carefully draped several of her silk scarves over the bedside lamps, casting a softer glow about the room. Satin throw pillows replaced the normal bed pillows. The bed sheet and blanket were tossed into the closet, leaving only the bottom sheet. She had just finished setting the tray of fruit and wine on the nightstand when she heard her husband’s car in the driveway. Grabbing her last prop, she hurried down the hall to the entryway and dropped to her knees just as the door opened.

  “Honey, we’re... what the hell?” Ryan’s husky voice sent a shudder of sensual awareness through her. Ever since he had started dating her husband and then moved in with them, Ryan had been a part of their lives, both sexual and not. He had become her best friend, her greatest ally, and the second love of her life.

  Holding out the printed paper she had rolled up and tied with a ribbon, she winked at Ryan. With a grin, he stepped aside for Daniel.

  “Someone’s feeling playful,” Ryan said, reaching down for the scroll. Holding it out to her husband, he winked back at her.

  Andrea could feel Daniel’s eyes trailing over her for a moment before he pulled the paper from the ribbon and started reading aloud.

  Please accept this slave as an offer of friendship between our two nations.

  She has been well trained in the fine arts of pleasing a man, and it is my fondest hope that she brings you pleasure.

  His voice soft and teasing, Ryan commented, “Ah, a new concubine to add to my harem.” Andrea allowed herself a slight smile as Ryan continued to play along. “Let’s see how well trained she truly is.”

  With an arrogant wave of his hand, he motioned for both of them to follow him into the bedroom. Gracefully gaining her feet, Andrea waited until Daniel moved past her. The silk of her genie costume’s pants rustled slightly as she walked slowly, giving the men time to get settled. The tiny bells on the anklet she wore jingled with each step.

  As she walked into the room, she found Ryan already on the bed, reclining against the pillows. Daniel joined him, leaning back against his chest. The tray of food had been moved to the bed, and while she stood there, awaiting their instructions, she watched as Daniel slowly fed Ryan a plump, ripe strawberry.

  “Dance for us.”

  Andrea bit back a smile. The only thing Ryan liked more than watching her dance was watching her go down on her husband. She was glad she had taken the time to factor in his fantasy fetish. Crossing the room to the stereo, she pushed PLAY on the CD player. This was the kind of music she could imagine as background music in a harem. Slow, deep, and foreign, the music had a seductive quality all its own.

  She lifted her hands over her head and slowly rotated her wrists, then softly thrust her hips. The bells attached to her costume’s belt jingled. Her nipples tightened against her silk top, straining against the thin material. Sleeveless and ending at her midriff, the blouse covered her in the style of a bikini top, leaving most of her stomach exposed. Her pants rode low on her hips. With the predatory way that Ryan watched her movements, she felt like a true harem girl, dancing for her master. Her only goal was to please him.

  As she continued to dance, Ryan’s hands absently started caressing Daniel’s chest, unbuttoning his shirt and pulling the tails free of his slacks. Her husband’s smooth chest was slowly bared. Andrea drank in his fair skin and lanky frame. Even after years together, his body turned her on. She looked at Ryan next.

  He was the definition of gorgeous, with rich chocolate eyes, a deep sun-kissed skin tone, and hands big enough to hold both a woman’s wrists in one hand while he slowly fucked her senseless. Yet he had a sharp mind behind his brown eyes that tended to surprise everyone. Quick to laugh, he was even quicker to passion, which was what had first drawn Daniel to him—that quicksilver flash of lust when they first shook hands at work.

  Losing herself in the fantasy, Andrea slowly turned around, rotating her waist to show off her ass. She shimmied her hips, setting the tiny bells on her body a-jingle. Across the room Daniel groaned. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that Ryan had unzipped Daniel’s pants and was slowly stroking his cock.

  “Come here, slave.” Ryan’s voice betrayed his growing arousal.

  Andrea stopped dancing and glided across the room. Climbing onto the bed, she knelt beside Ryan’s hip.

  “Take my other slave into your mouth.”

  Obediently, she licked her lips, leaned down, and kissed Daniel’s cock head. He moaned softly as he thrust up against her, his fingers sliding through her hair. Her lips pressed tight around him, Andrea sucked his length into her mouth, relaxing her throat to take all of him.

  “Mmm, that’s good. You have been trained well.”

  Sucking harder, she worked his cock slowly in and out of her mouth. Her pussy growing wet against her costume, she tightened her thighs, trying to glide the damp material against her pussy. She could feel her husband’s cock pulsing in her mouth as his climax approached. She wiggled her hips again, trying to generate friction on her clit.

  A sharp slap against her ass stopped her movements. She jerked back in shock, her gaze meeting Ryan’s. A twinkle lit his brown eyes.

  “Enough of that. You move when I tell you to move and not before.” He unzipped his own pants and freed his cock. “Now let’s see how good a cocksucker you really are.”

  Daniel slid to the side as she leaned down to take Ryan’s cock into her mouth. She loved its girth. Teasing him, she nipped lightly at the head before sliding down, engulfing him in the velvet heat of her mouth. He pulsed against her tongue as his hands fisted in her hair, almost ruthlessly guiding her up and down. The bells around her waist tinkled with each motion of her body as Andrea allowed her lover to guide her.

  “Oh yes, I’ll have to send along my thanks to your former master.” Ryan’s hands moved down her shoulders, pushing her away. “But for now, I w
ish to discover what other training you have had.”

  With an impervious flick of his wrist, he motioned Daniel to lie on his back. His own movements graceful, Ryan climbed off the bed and moved to stand behind her.

  With his firm hands he started removing her outfit. He unzipped the top, then tossed it aside. His hands cupped her breasts, rolling the nipples between his fingers. “Take off your pants.”

  Her hands shaky with desire, Andrea slowly lifted her hips and pulled her pants down to her knees. Angling to her side, she pulled first one leg free, then the other. All that remained was the belt around her waist and her matching anklet. As she leaned forward, she wiggled her ass, drawing Ryan’s gaze to the butt plug she had inserted before their arrival.

  “Perfect,” he drawled, his voice deep and husky. Andrea trembled in response as his hands glided over her ass, caressing her. “Mount my slave.”

  Daniel’s eyes widened as she slowly crawled over him. Fully dressed, he lay passively beneath her as she gripped his cock and slowly thrust down, driving him into her pussy. His hips thrust as she squeezed tight, her body begging for more. Ryan’s hands continued to caress her body as she slowly rode Daniel, her hips rocking back and forth, grinding against his pelvis.

  Ryan’s deft movements pulled the plug from her ass, and even before she had time to mourn the loss, he was kneeling behind her and thrusting hard past her tight ring.

  “Oh God!” she gasped as he pushed his cock into her. Although she had enjoyed Daniel’s cock there, it wasn’t something Ryan had ever tried to do to her. Now as his girth stretched her, she tried to pull away, but Daniel’s body held her pinned. There was nowhere she could go.

  His hands gently against her hips, he pulled her back tighter against him, seating his cock in her ass up to the balls. Daniel thrust up against her, and Andrea whimpered at the intense sensation of two cocks within her.

  The bells around her waist sounded with each stroke as Ryan slowly began to fuck her, his larger frame dwarfing hers as he pushed down against her husband, positioning her for his deep thrusts. It was everything she had fantasized about from the moment the article sparked her interest—being taken by both her men, fucked and filled by them both at the same time. She was their slave, helpless to do anything but enjoy their claiming. Her pussy ached, as she clenched tight. Behind her, Ryan groaned. “Do it again.”

  Already breathing hard, Andrea squeezed her pussy and ass tight, milking both cocks within her.

  Ryan’s hands tightened on her hips, as he started pounding against her. Beneath her, Daniel’s thrusts fell into a rhythm. Now, rather than one thrusting as the other withdrew, they both thrust together. It was enough to make her scream. The tray of fruit hit the floor as the headboard started slamming against the wall under the force of their movements.

  Beneath her, Daniel was thrashing slightly. With a soft grunt his orgasm washed over him, his come a warm rush in her pussy. Behind her Ryan doubled his efforts, his cock thrusting hard within her ass. Moving a hand from her waist, he started playing with her clit, pinching the little nub between his fingers as she pressed against him. Low moans escaped her lips as she ground down against Daniel’s softening cock. His eyes flickered open and met hers, and with a slight grin, he cupped her breasts and pinched her nipples roughly.

  Andrea shuddered as Ryan’s fingers tightened on her clit until a tidal wave of pain rushed over her, radiating out from her pussy and nipples. With a husky cry she came, collapsing against her husband. Behind her, Ryan pulled out of her ass and she felt warm spurts of come landing on her back. His hands firm, he rubbed his come into her skin, while she lay there trying to regain her breath. Sliding to the side, she curled against Daniel as Ryan shifted on the bed, moving to lie spooned against her back.

  “Where on earth did you get the idea for this, baby doll?” Ryan asked a few moments later, his hands caressing little circles on her thigh.

  She smiled, self-consciously. “I was reading an article about roleplaying and dress-up, and I remembered those romances I read during my late teens. My favorites were the ones set in harems, where a captive woman is turned into a pleasure slave by a domineering master. They never got into too much detail, but they were enough to get me hot then.”

  “Mmm,” Ryan breathed against her neck, “I definitely wouldn’t mind acting this one out again in greater detail.”

  Daniel’s chest rumbled under her cheek as he chuckled. “Neither would I. But next time, you get to be the other slave. She almost sucked me off, but then you made her quit.”

  Puss-In-BooTs

  I FOUND THEM BY ACCIDENT. I’d given up the search, days and days, maybe a week ago even. Then, the night before his birthday, there they were, in the window of a second-hand store: the boots. Knee-high, black leather with at least a five-inch heel. Even through the window glass, I could tell the leather was that soft, stretchy kind, something with enough give to slide over my muscled calves. I leaned in closer to the window, put one hand up to block out the glare from the street lamp. The toes were long, but not pointed. Jesus, they were perfect, just what my husband had asked for. I’d been so sure I wasn’t going to find these boots that I’d already bought him an expensive back-up gift. Who cared? I’d been given a last-minute blessing and I wasn’t about to turn it away.

  When I exhaled, my breath fogged up the glass, and I realized I’d been leaning in so close my nose was almost against the window. I wanted to wipe away the fog, keep my eyes on the boots. I had a sudden fear that someone was already inside, getting ready to buy them. Or that I would walk in and the salesperson would say, “Sorry, only for show,” and then I would have to get down on my hands and knees and beg her, offer her anything, anything, for those boots. Maybe she’d just let me borrow them for the night.

  The door didn’t open at first, and there was a fresh fear that I hadn’t thought of, that they’d be closed already, that I would spend the night kicking myself for leaving work too late. But then I pushed instead of pulled and the door swung open to the smell of incense and patchouli and the insides of old purses.

  The dark-haired girl behind the counter gave me a half-smile, just the corners of her lips U-ing up. Normally, she was the kind of girl I would had stayed and flirted with—cute in an almost boyish way, funny, great smile. But I had other things on my mind.

  “Those boots,” I blurted, pointing to the window. “Are they for sale?”

  The girl smiled again, this time for real, showing off small, perfectly straight teeth.

  “Everything’s for sale,” she said. “Well, except for me.” She paused, seemed to think on her answer. “Well, at least not usually.”

  Something flooded through my stomach. “Thank God,” I said. “I’ll take them.”

  She hesitated, tucked a dark curl behind her ear. “Don’t you want to know how much? Or the size or anything?”

  I shook my head. It didn’t matter. If they were size six, I’d pop a couple of aspirin ahead of time and squeeze my feet into them for a few hours. Even if they cost a hundred dollars, I didn’t care. I’d put it on my card. My husband was only going to turn thirty once.

  She took the black boots from the window display, put them on the counter. I resisted the urge to stroke the length of the leather.

  “Twenty-two bucks,” she said. “Size eight.”

  I had to laugh. It was too good to be true. They were a little big—I wear seven and a half—but I couldn’t have asked for more. I wanted to hug the girl behind the counter, but she was already looking at me like I was kind of nuts, so I just put my card on the glass and said thank you.

  “My pleasure, apparently.” She put two fingers on the long, thin heel of a boot, stroked it gently. “Or maybe someone else’s?”

  I blushed then. So obvious. She could have overcharged me by a hundred bucks and I still would have said yes, I was that desperate.

  Then she wrapped the boots in tissue paper, slow and careful, without looking at me, and put them in a bag. �
�You come back and let me know how it turns out, okay?”

  “Okay,” I promised—she really was cute, with that smile—and then I took my boots home to plan.

  That night, I couldn’t sleep. I’d put the boots in the back of the closet, next to our toys, and the thought of them nestled there, waiting, was almost more than I could stand. I wanted to slide them on now, wake him up with one heel pressed to his thigh. But I didn’t. I just watched him sleep—the little laugh lines around his eyes that were new this year, the gray hairs at his temple—and imagined what I would wear with the boots tomorrow: my wrap-around dress with nothing under it, a long button-up shirt half buttoned, nothing but a black thong and a silver necklace...

  In the end, I chose the black wrap-around dress, nothing under it but me. I slid it on before he got home, tied it loosely around my waist. Then I pulled the boots up over my ankles and calves. The leather curved perfectly around my calves and stopped just below the knee. I could barely walk in the heels, but I figured it didn’t matter: If I could just knock his eyes out when he walked in the door, I’d be okay. I tied my long hair up in a sexy, kind of librarian bun. Then I sat down on the bed and waited.

  It wasn’t long before I heard the fumble of keys as he came through the front door. “Hon?” he called.

  I stood up, brushed down the back of my dress, and leaned against the wall with what I hoped was a sexy, come-hither look and not a these-heels-are-too-high look. “In here,” I said.

  He came in, head down, hands focused on undoing his tie. “What’s the deal with—” He lifted up his head and saw me.

  “Happy birthday,” I said, quick. Standing here with nothing on but boots and a dress so thin you could see the points of my nipples through it, I was nervous. What was I thinking? Surely he’d been kidding when he’d asked me to buy him boots for his thirtieth birthday. Jesus, I was nearly thirty myself, too old for knee-high boots and this sexy pose I was trying to pull off. My fingers tightened on the tie of my dress.