Babydoll

A frisky pop beat skipped from the speakers in the changing area of the lingerie store. Sadie stood in her plush cubicle in a froth of dropped lace and gauze and satin, like Venus rising from the waves. She was shuffling into a scarlet bra and warring with the stubborn clasp. She clicked it into place with a snort of triumph and turned to the bright mirror dominating the small, cosy, bubblegum space. The cups shaped her well and the colour was bold against her skin. She turned to the side, sucked in her tummy, puffed it out comically, pulled a silly face at herself. A soft knock came on the changing room door. "How's it going, Glamour Chick?" Ben's voice came even softer.

Sadie smiled and called back, "It's nice, the catch is a bit tight."

"Will I still be able to undo it with my teeth?" She could hear the feline smile on his lips.

"You can but try."

"Can I peek?" The temperature of his voice turned up. She felt a pleasant little wriggle behind her sternum. She slid open the small slat over a peephole in the door. Ben's easy, open face appeared in the square. His hair was a choppy mess from pulling his beanie off and his cheeks were pink from the cold outside - and the acute awareness that he was loitering in a lingerie store. She jutted out her hip and flaunted herself in the scarlet lace. He leaned into the peephole, his crooked nose resting on the bottom. His brown eyes glistened like honey. "Well, hello there." His sly tone came muffled through the door.

"Not bad, yeah?" She grinned. She bunched her chocolate tresses on top of her head and dipped a cheeky bob. She let her hair tumble around her face, hooked the centre of the bra, and tussled with it, jiggling her breasts.

He made a small groan in his throat and narrowed his eyes at her. "That's not fair."

"That's showbiz, Kid." She pinged the bra open and slid it down her arms. She dropped it onto a hook on the rosy wall and turned back to the large, glowing mirror. She massaged lightly under her breasts, checking how tight the bra had been.

"God, you have beautiful tits," Ben mumbled dreamily.

She waved dismissively at him over her shoulder. "My tits are tiny."

"Yep." His thick brows knit closer together in a coaxing, wolfish look. "They fit so nice in my hand. It has the same kind of satisfying feeling as holding an apple. Except I can squeeze."

She made sharp eye contact with him in the mirror. He looked like an imp in the back of some baroque nude. "Oh yeah?"

"Mmmm." He rumbled in his chest, his voice thickening like syrup. "And your nipples are like perfect rosebuds, soft and firm, the exact size to slip between my teeth and suck that lovely, dark red."

Sadie tingled all over. She suppressed a quiver and flashed a mock-deriding look at him in the warmly lit glass. "Got something on your mind there, Stud?"

He raised his chin to show his smile, his tongue flickering between his teeth, then brought his eyes, his never-satiated eyes, back into the window. "I have so much on my mind. I can't wait to get you home. I'm going to drizzle orange essence on your naked body and kiss every last inch of you clean. Then I'm going to spread your gorgeous legs and - AH!"

"Is everything OK over here, Sir?" A short, suspicious-looking shop assistant appeared at Ben's elbow. He leaped back like a kid whose toasting-marshmallow skewer just caught on fire. The small woman put a hand on her hip and frowned slightly into his burning, extremely startled face. Sadie erupted into evil laughter.

"Fine!" Ben screeched high, then cleared his throat and forced his voice back down. "All fine, thanks. Thought we had a fitting issue, but false alarm."

Sadie's cackles jabbered through the door. "Take him away! I don't even know him!"

"You do so!" He snapped at the peephole.

"I think he's some kind of pervert!"

"He is not!"

The assistant smirked at the radiant blush spreading over his neck like an allergic reaction. "I'll leave you two to it," she said, and scurried off. Sadie continued her Disney villain hooting.

"That," Ben gruffed, "was not funny."

"Agree to disagree!" She shimmied into a lilac babydoll. "Could you lean your face through the door? I want to see what this set looks like in red lighting."

"Ha. Ha."

She stuck her tongue out at him and slid the slat shut. He shook his head at where she vanished, failing to extinguish a small, affectionate smile. He spun lazily on his heel and leaned back against the door. The whole place smelled of that linen-fresh, floral perfume that lingerie stores seem to soak all the tissue paper in. It was what Sadie always smelled of when she wore something new, when she jumped him while he was tampering with the broken shelf, or playing a video game, or folding laundry, or whatever else, and pulled him stumbling upstairs, already ripping into his clothes. An ache stole between his thighs. Bloody wildcat. Bloody beautiful, fun, sweet, sexy...

The door opened. The support left his back and he toppled, choking on a gasp, flapping his arms like a chicken. He just caught himself with his heel and rocked onto his feet as Sadie clicked the changing room door shut. He goggled at her, hissing urgently, "What are you doing?"

She shrugged and batted her blue eyes, forget-me-not blue, dizzying blue. "Well, you can't see properly through the peephole."

His stomach leaped. He tried to sound stern, but his grin was gambolling all over his face, like a sledge on snow. "You're going to get me arrested."

"Not if you run fast enough." That goading look she had, she was a demon summoner, she was impossible. She gently undid the buttons of his coat and slid it off his shoulders. He let his arms go limp for her, put up an almost impressive lack of resistance. His coat thumped to the floor. She stroked his arms, her touch easy and confident, skimming soothingly along his muscle. He gazed down at the latest piece. The lilac babydoll was translucent, falling over her body with the delicacy of cobwebs. The watercolour shadows of her breasts, the candy pink points of her nipples, the dip of her belly button, all showed through the veil like a vision through vapours. "Now," her lips bloomed, "what were you saying about my gorgeous legs?"

Nerves and arousal battered against each other in Ben's body. He half-glanced towards the door. Sadie's hands ran over his shoulders and her touch trickled down his spine, like melting ice cream. Horniness won. Horniness always won. He leaned down and kissed her temple, catching the scent of her kiwi shampoo. He teased the frills of the babydoll, soft as water, then stroked his fingertips across the front of her thigh and strummed the hem of her panties. "Spread 'em."

She cocked one knee and swung her leg out, bumping her nose on his and smiling at him with all her adorable mischief. She ran her hands over his chest, plucking one button open on his shirt. He met her gaze. He kissed her. All his anxiety went skipping away like leaves hit by a gust of wind. She massaged his tongue with hers, indulging and teasing, filling him with the taste of the hot chocolate and whipped cream from the café earlier today. His hand moved almost instinctively, attracted like a bug to a Venus flytrap. He unfurled his fingers over her veiled pussy and stroked softly. She sighed against his lips. She ran her fingers into his hair, tickling his scalp and making him shudder. She rose onto her toes and settled her pussy into his hand, kissing him deeper. He pressed a little firmer, a dot of wetness on the heel of his hand. She swallowed a whine. She slipped from his touch and his mouth, leaving him flushed and a little bleary. She shot him a bright, eager look. His heart bucked. She held his eye as she peeled her panties from her hips and dropped them to the floor among the discarded store products. Her pussy was reddening, glistening, a polished ruby behind gossamer lilac. The hem of the babydoll was high, he could just glimpse the tip of her clit peeking from it. His mouth watered. His cock thickened and pressed to his zipper.

Sadie watched his face change, watched the way his lips parted and his tongue sneaked over them. She almost felt it sneak over her flesh. Her core tightened. The babydoll trickled on her skin, the frills teased her belly and the tops of her thighs, whisking her sensitivity higher as Ben's eyes on her pussy brought her flesh to life. She rushed back into his body, flung her arms around his neck, and hooked his tongue with hers. He tasted of cinnamon and coffee, spiced and sweet and bitter all at once. His breath halted, jolting her with excitement. He caught her willingly with one strong arm and slipped his hand between them to stroke her again. He stirred her like pancake batter. His fingers moved in soft circles, leisurely serpentining over her clit and along her seam, criss-crossing threads of pleasure in a maddening cat's cradle that held her in a net of want. His kiss was soft too. He drew sweet, sucking kisses from her in the slow rhythm of his rising breathing. It was a caress as much as a tease. She sensed him sinking into the feel of her, as if he was running his hands through a stream, or teasing apart the segments of a ripe tangerine. Every millimetre he touched responded to him, ache upon ache growing and dousing and tumbling through her. She melted into his kiss, her nipples prickling, her lips heating. She ran her hand over the soft definition of his chest and down over his belt buckle. She smiled at the hard mound behind his fly. She fit her hand along it and rubbed up and down, like a cart along a rail. He let out a snuffling, lupine moan, and bit her lower lip. She shuddered. She stroked the forearm of the hand working her pussy and pulled him to press a little harder. His fingers slid on her seam. Her core coiled. He took his hand carefully from her back and cupped her breast, squeezing softly, running his thumb back and forth over her nipple. The gauzy fabric of the babydoll chafed ever so slightly, the tiniest essence of a sting lacing the tender, sweet sensation. His thumb dipped and stroked in crescents on the sensitive underside of her breast, still holding her as gently as an eggshell. Her nipples stood proud through the fabric, straining for his touch. When it returned, it cast waves of desire over her skin. She gasped. He squeezed a little firmer and circled his thumb, speeding up her breathing, as if he was turning up a dial. His mouth fell to her ear, lapping the shell, flooding her with excitement at the sound of his trembling, husking whisper. "Will you peg me when we get home?"

Images deluged in her mind. Ben crooked. Ben writhing. Ben crumpled forward with his taut ass raised, his spine undulating as his body begged for her. The way he moaned low then whimpered like a fox as she drove into him, striking his core, taking him over. The beads of sweat on his back. The crease in his brow. The inaudible murmurs of pleasure. The way he grasped the bedsheets in his fists and his shoulder blades jutted like plateaus of rock. "Oh..." Her reply was halfway between a mock and a moan. "You're in that kind of mood, are you?"

He nibbled her earlobe and drew his finger delectably from her seam to the peak of her clit, pleasure whipping her body. His whisper made her pulse pound and her lungs constrict. "I want you inside me. I want you to own me. I want to give everything to you." He ran his lips to her jaw and tickled her with his tongue. "I want you to fuck me, Honey."

She could feel him swelling through his trousers, filling her palm, pulsing as she stroked him. His fingers still danced on her pussy. She felt wild. The room was starting to fall away, the music drowned out by the rush of blood in her ears. "Fuck me first," she panted.

Ben raised his head to meet her eyes. He paused his teasing, holding flames in his hands, like a magician. His pupils were wide. His cheeks looked stained with beetroot. He swallowed. "Here? Now?"

It was infuriating that he'd stopped. She snaked her hips to drag her clit over his fingertips. She nipped his chin. She could feel how hungry his cock was, even with the barrier of his clothes. She leaned into it, grinning at the way he flinched and returned her pressure. "Here.Now."

"Christ..."

Ben's warm back iced. He glanced at the door again. How long had they been in here? A minute? Two? An hour? Time ghosted away under the stroke of Sadie's lips, burned up in the heat of her pussy. His cock pulsed greedily. He looked down her body and the butterfly-wing, lilac shadows cast by the silver-gilt light on the babydoll. It had no structure in the cups and let her breasts hang, relaxed and soft and inviting. Her hair, windswept from the outdoors, bunched at one cheek, a sultry curl under her inviting eye. Her leg swung a little wider, her swollen, shining centre drawing his gaze and his blood with intense magnetism, luscious and wanting,inviting. She was a living invitation. He had no idea how to refuse her. He bit his lip and nodded briskly. Her daring, seductive stare turned sparkling. She spun around and put her hands on the wall in front of them. She slid her palms down the pink paper, spreading her legs and arching her spine, opening her gates like a blooming orchid. The babydoll floated up to crown the small of her back with dainty frills. Her round ass perked into a rosy glow; it gave him the memory of biting down on a peach. He shivered. His cock shoved against his zipper. He hastily undid his belt with fumbling fingers and released it. He was harder than marble, blue veins inking his arousal onto the shaft, his head dark and straining and glistening. He wrapped himself with one hand and stroked, while with his other he massaged her seam, going weak with pleasure at how wet she was. He softly eased her open, sliding one finger inside, then two, forcing a groan back into his chest at the way her strong walls wrapped him. Her hips wound. Her shoulders rolled. "I said now," she murmured, low and uncompromising. Her command surged through him. He withdrew his fingers and eased himself inside her.

The moment flooded him. His mouth shot open in a rough moan that he only just silenced in time, singeing the back of his throat. He thrummed with pleasure. Her core gripped him, shaped to him, and embraced him with heat. Her back arched deeply. Her fingers clawed the wallpaper. A thrill hit him. Her response made him even higher than his own pleasure. He craved more, he wanted to give to her, to sense her wanting him more than anything. He curled his hands over her ass and squeezed. She shuddered, it vibrated on his cock. He slid his hands to her hips and began to thrust. He moved slowly, punishingly slowly, every scrap of his attention not absorbed by the incredible feeling of her body charging into his need to be quiet. Every creak of a hinge or clack of a shoe barbed tauntingly, reminded him how close they were to being caught. He pulsed with the apprehension, and she pulsed around him. He slicked easily in her arousal, moving deep, twisting a little to stir her pleasure stronger. Her knees trembled, gossamer fluttering over her skin, like a pebble was skimming a pool. His mouth went dry at the sight of her knuckles whitening as she fought to stay on her feet. He looked into the mirror beside them. Only the very base of his shaft emerged and sank into her body, keeping himself deep, grinding inside her, the tip of his cock encased in lust and delight. Her head dropped forward with a stifled sigh. Her back and breasts bobbed with her compressed panting, her petalled body in the mirror like a bluebell shivering as it's plucked. For a moment, he didn't believe this was his own reflection, it was a trick of the light that made an extremely lucky stranger appear to be him. He couldn't possibly be this lucky.

He picked up his pace, chewing his lip sore as her ass padded to his hips and sent a drumming up his spine. He tore his eyes from the mirror, from the way she bucked and writhed and fought (and failed) to keep herself still. He gripped her hips harder. He moved faster. Pleasure radiated throughout his body, hotter than his blush, fiercer than the fear as footsteps passed again. His lungs filled with steam, his muscles lined with silk. There was a slippery mist of sweat where their flesh pressed together in his deep, slow, resounding motions. The musk of sex leaked into the fresh, floral perfume of the shop. It drugged him. "Oh God..." His whisper fled him before he could stop it. "Oh God, Honey, you make me crazy." Would the next person in here catch that scent? She'd make them crazy too.

Sadie's spine rolled and the motion rolled through him. His brow buckled. The babydoll rippled like smoke gushing on the flame of her writhing body. "Oh... Oh..." Her voice came thin and melodic, like the last note of flute-song. "You feel so good, Babe. You feel so, so good."

God, that was all he wanted. That was everything. Make Sadie feel good. Turn her world into pleasure and ease and romance.

She pushed back against him, forcing him deeper still. It jolted him with need. His cock pounded. "Oh Jesus," he breathed, "I'm really close."

"Don't come."

Her command stuck him, like a spear. "What?" he rasped.

"Don't come. I want you hungry later."

He ground his teeth almost to dust. "I promise I still will be."

She twisted to glare at him over her shoulder, the movement on his cock almost painful as he fiercely restrained himself. "I like you desperate." She said it like a spell-caster. Then she shrugged and smirked. "Besides, you can't come in here, what if it gets on this stuff? It's expensive."

He looked at the mess of lingerie scattered about the changing room, like brightly coloured sweet wrappers. He looked at the pretty shadow of frills kissing the top of her ass. He folded forward and crushed his lips to her shoulder, huffing her fruity shampoo again. "I'll just come deep." He meant it to sound smoky, but it came out pleading.

She took the upper hand. She slinked her shoulder blades, so her back shifted against his raw body. "Wait for later and it'll be something extra special."

He groaned into her shoulder. His cock felt like it might erupt. He quivered inside her, only held together by the tightness of her walls. "You," he mumbled sulkily onto her skin, "are cruel."

"You like me cruel."

His balls felt bound. His voice grated with his helpless confession. "I love you cruel." He reeled in the sensation of being clasped by her body for a long, tortuous moment. It took all his strength to withdraw from her. His cock slid free with a wet, sucking sound, leaving her seam red and ripe. She stood gingerly, flexing her neck, and wriggling her shoulders. She turned to him, her eyes like the Mediterranean Sea under white sunlight. Her gaze felled him. He was cold without her. He was in agony. She was inches away, but they might as well be on separate continents. She stepped against him. His hands flew to her, like flocking sparrows. They skated along the fabric of the babydoll, its texture like snow, then over her breasts, her belly, her back, her thighs, her ass, her arms, her neck. He cupped her face and pulled her into an ardent, begging kiss. He stopped her breath. He sank against her firm, giving mouth. It burned behind his eyes as she pulled from his lips, her nose pink, her smile sprite-like. She tenderly tucked him back into his underwear and tugged the sides of his zipper together. "Oh, Stud," she murmured with an impressed pout, "you barely fit." Even this light touch was heaven. He groaned weakly and drooped into kissing her again.

Sadie felt like a beehive. Her whole body was alive and buzzing and sticky with honey. He had brought her to the verge so effortlessly and she still teetered there, his pleading, longing kisses threatening to throw her over the edge. His want was so delicious, so complete. It possessed him. Being turned on was like sorcery for Ben. It chained his soul. It emptied him of everything except his hunger and his will to serve.