Getting Ready

"Here it is, this one was much easier to find" his satisfaction with the discovery obvious.

He pulled out both hangers, one with the shirt and the other my black skirt, the one that hung a few inches above my knee.

"Well, we've got these taken care of, but we need the foundations, a proper starting place from what I've heard."

There was no doubt that he was really enjoying himself and it would have been a shame to spoil his fun. After all, he wasn't doing that bad of job for his first time at this new task.

Bill walked over, removed both items from their hangers and carefully placed them on the bed, near my side but not quite within reach.

He headed towards my lingerie drawer, stopped suddenly and turned around.

"Are you warm enough?"

"I'm fine; watching you parade around the room is keeping me warm, even with Mr. Happy all relaxed."

Bill looked down just to make sure, smiled at me and replied, "He's exhausted, frustrated and pouting."

When he saw the look on my face, he added, "He's really lonely too, but I don't want you to worry about that; relief will come in due time."

Opening the drawer, it took him only a matter of seconds to grab something from the drawer, close it and come back to the bed, one of my white lace bras in one hand, my smallest white thong in the other.

"I bet you're wondering how I found them so fast......," and before I could even respond, he continued; "Earlier reconnaissance."

He knelt down right in front of me, spread my legs far enough so that his knees wouldn't land on my feet and scooted forward. Staring between my legs, he placed each hand as high as he could on the inside of each thigh. Still staring at my sex, he looked up at me and said, "We must cover up this," pointing directly at my clitoris, his finger close enough to almost touch me, "with that."

He stood up, grabbed the underwear and lifted one foot into the leg hole and then the other. Pulling my knees together as he lifted, he did the best he could to prevent the twisting of the fabric as the thong cleared my knees.

"Just lie back, I'll take it from here."

I did as instructed and once lying on the bed, felt him lift below my cheeks and pull on me, scooting me right to the very edge of our bed. With a mix of luck and skill, he positioned the thong high enough, but it still needed some adjustment to be adequately in place.

"I'll get this; don't worry....a little challenge like this is right up my alley."

He left me and I could hear him doing something over at my dresser. Shortly he came back with some black stockings that were most likely my thigh highs. Carefully rolling them up as he'd seen me do, he started one foot into the stocking. He slipped it just above my knee and then proceeded to the other foot, doing the same.

"This is the part that gets tricky," he said as he climbed on the bed, straddled me backwards and slid his bare ass up against my breasts. He always tried to be careful about helping to support himself while on me and I could tell that he was not letting his full weight down onto my ribcage. I giggled when I thought about what a picture we both must make.

Lifting my head to look down, the only thing I could see was a gaping crack leading into his disappearing lower back. He had leaned forward, his hands just above my right knee and was working that stocking up my thigh. Bill was spending an unnecessarily long amount of time at it though.

Going strictly by feel, it felt like the stocking's top was where it belonged, but he obviously wasn't finished 'adjusting'. His entire hand dipped down on the inside of my thigh, the index finger seeking the smallest part of the thong deep in my crack, his little finger rubbing along the band of my stocking with his thumb tracing along the fabric triangle of the thong. His left hand was putting light pressure across my belly, just above my panties. I imagined in my mind's eye that his hand must be between his balls and my skin.

This was feeling very nice, the fabrics below providing him a boundary for his touch, barriers that he didn't necessarily need to obey. Eventually, he mirrored what he had done on my other leg.

Quietly and with his voice obviously under stain, he said, "We still have an issue here with the front of your thong Vicky."

Already excited and expecting, no hoping, what might follow caused my heart to nearly skip a beat, my breath cut short.

Both of his index fingers went deeply below me, each working themselves below the narrow string of fabric. Very slowly, they moved in unison, below the fabric, up beside my entrance, adjacent to my lips, then separating as they moved out over my two pelvic bones. With a pause, both his fingers went deep once more, each anxious to be first on the return trip back up.

Bill did this numerous times, both of his fingers becoming less and less disciplined about staying away from my center. I could feel the thong becoming wet and his fingers were soon sliding with less of the lovely friction, the wetter, sticky sensation heightening my desire. I was certain that I could feel moisture above and outside my panties that wouldn't have been mine.

I tried to reach around to grab his cock, but his hips prevented me from reaching that far. I settled for gripping his sides, my thumbs at the base of his spine.

Breaking his rhythm, I sensed him moving his hands away from where they'd been.

My clitoris already felt very proud, but suddenly I could feel him faintly touching me there through the fabric. As soon as his finger started making small circular motions, I came, so fast that even I was shocked. I wouldn't have stopped it even if I could have.

He reached behind his back with one hand and gently rubbed my arm, drawing my hand up to kiss each finger tip. He used his other hand to lovingly rub the bare skin of each upper thigh.

We stayed there for a time, my eyes fighting to stay open as I returned to our world.

Bill broke my near slumber by swinging his leg off of me. With a bit of clumsy, he moved around to straddle me, sliding his semi-hard cock up against my spine. After a minute or so of rubbing my shoulders and upper arms, he reached over for the bra and slipped my arms through it.

After sliding back so that his arms had room, he pulled up, adjusting the cups and fastened the clasp in back.

Reaching around again in front, he used his fingers to see, verifying that my nipples were hidden inside. This bra granted me lots of exposure and proper coverage wasn't necessarily guaranteed. I could tell that Bill wanted to be absolutely sure that everything was in place.

With a hand on each breast, he quietly offered, "These just don't get the attention they deserve."

I tipped my head back and into his face, cooing softly in agreement.

He pulled back and stood in front of me, then pulled me to my feet.

Reaching for the white shirt first, he helped me slip into the arms, and then buttoned each button for me.

I looked down to see if I'd notice what I thought I was feeling, not only in my panties but around the tops of my stockings as well.

"Bill, I'm soaked, everything is soaked. Don't I at least get to wipe off?"

Thinking it as I started to say it, it didn't take his nude form a second to get down on his knees in front of me. Using his tongue, he valiantly tried to cover anything and everywhere that he detected my wetness. That included a pass or two over the thong fabric.

"You smell really good too."

"You're not helping me at all, you know," a reprimand for him that we both knew was meaningless.

Bill stood up and helped me into my skirt, actually doing a great job getting it fastened without too much trouble. He stood back and took in all of me, head to toe.

"Tasteful, yet flirty, don't you think?"

I nervously smiled, nodded and said, "I've really got to get going; I'm going to be late."

He headed back to the closet, me certain he was going to grab 'Those' black shoes, the ones with the sky scraping heels that he had picked out for me last year. Never before had he shown interest in any of my footwear, but he had that pair out of the box and in his hands the entire time had we driven home from the store. Studying them like he would have a new tool, that is in fact what they were in his mind.

Instead, he brought the more conservative black heeled shoes to me. Obviously, his heart and head were the decision makers this time, not the head of his glistening cock. He bent down, making sure that I noticed his sideways kneel to avoid putting any more pressure on his stiff member.

He slipped both shoes on once I had again sat on the edge of the bed, and then helped me back to my feet.

"Are you going to help me with my makeup too?" I asked.

"You're picture perfect, just go."

He looked at me, a disappointed look on his face and said, "Vicky, I don't know how you always put off getting ready until the very last minute."

I took him in my arms, stuck my tongue in his ear, always a guaranteed way to get my way and whispered, "Fuck you."

"Go and have fun, but call me when you're on your way home. I'll be here in the door, naked and if you don't fuck my brains out, there's going to be trouble."

I headed out to the car and climbed in feeling wet, horny and beautifully alive.