Beauty, The Dress, and The Beast (F)

[Note from MH: While it doesn’t condone or encourage ignoring a spouse’s boundaries, this story could trigger victims of sexual abuse.]

It was late afternoon by the time the couple left their 4-year-old at his friend’s house—their son’s first sleepover. They had meant to do the drop-off right after lunch and immediately leave for their getaway in wine country, a 2-hour drive from town. But between last-minute packing and instructions, it had taken longer than expected.

They still had plenty of time to make it to their dinner reservation. So they drove without talking much but with excitement building about what the evening would bring. Over the past few years, between their careers and raising their son, she hadn’t been able to make much time for her husband. Conversations centered mostly on the chores they efficiently split between themselves, almost like a work huddle. They still wanted each other’s company and enjoyed sex when they had it, but it had been a long time since their last “hump” getaway. Tonight was sure going to be a long night, and just the expectation made a bulge in his pants as he drove.

She felt the excitement, too, especially because she had brought a few surprises for him. Her friend Sharon had talked her into doing a couple of things that were way out of her comfort zone, so she was nervously excited about it.

The warm August afternoon had just begun to cool into the early evening when they arrived at their suite. It was exceptionally spacious with a huge bath, shower, and dressing area; a well-appointed sitting area with large couches; and a luxurious king bed where the games would soon begin.

He showered first while she unpacked, and before long, he was dressed smartly in his white shirt and slacks, the perfect ensemble for a late summer dinner date. When he slouched back against the bed’s headboard and turned on the TV, she knew it was her turn.

She showered for some time, but he had become accustomed to her long showers. Still, he thought she took an unusually long time to get dressed after the water turned off. Finally, he heard her voice.

“Sharon said I could absolutely pull it off, but now I’m not so sure. It’s more revealing than I remember; I wonder if it crosses over into trashy. I shouldn’t have let her talk me into it.” As she finished the sentence, she emerged from the dressing area into the suite’s bedroom.

It was revealing, very revealing—a bright red, deep-plunge cowl neck minidress that stopped mid-thigh. The plunge exposed the front of her body and the roundness of her breasts where they came together. The fabric loosely covered the rest of her breasts, including her nipples, but the plunge dropped to a couple of inches below her belly button, leaving the front of her stomach largely exposed too. The entire top was held together by only a tiny band at the back of her neck. In the back, she was essentially naked, except for the bottom portion of her minidress, which started a couple of inches above her butt cleavage and ended three, maybe four inches below her ass cheeks.

She wore her chestnut hair loose, so it fell to a few inches above her bosom, but it had no hope of covering anything more than the fabric did. To complement it all, she wore long pendant earrings and five-inch heels.

Her body held his gaze as she twirled and modeled the dress for him. He had never seen her like this. This was beyond sexy—it was the kind of thing you saw a Hollywood celebrity sport on the red carpet. “I am going to fuck this woman tonight,” he thought. “Wow.” He could not believe his luck.

“What do you think?” she persisted as he eye-fucked her. “Does it look too trashy for dinner? Tell me honestly; do you think I can pull it off? Do I look too fat in it?”

Generally on the skinny side in her teens and twenties, his wife had become bizarrely insecure about her weight after their son’s birth. She hit the gym regularly and had lost much of her pregnancy weight but not all of it. Her arms and legs had added some muscle and were well toned now, and her stomach was washboard flat, but her breasts had gained almost two cup sizes, her ass was rounder, and her face looked less gaunt than before.

There had always been a physical attraction when they first met, though perhaps her personality attracted him more than her sensuality. As far as he was concerned, these changes in her body only made her curvier and sexier. Her pregnancy weight had stayed on at just the right places, while the hard work at the gym made her look just… hot.

She never quite understood the difference between the curviness that could give a man an instant hard-on and fat. Approaching her mid-thirties now, she had a body other women would kill for, but she continued to feel insecure about it and kept toiling at the gym, aiming to get back to skinny.

But her husband noticed how she now filled out her blouses and that the rounds of her ass looked so sexy in her pencil skirt as she got ready for work each morning. At work, he often caught himself thinking about his wife’s tits under that blouse of hers. He would time his return home to match hers so he could catch her before she changed out of her office clothes. Entering very quietly, he could often sneak up behind her while she stood in the kitchen or the family room going through the day’s mail. Without a word, he’d greet her with a squeeze of her ass in that slender business skirt, or cup her breasts over her white blouse and press his long-suffering erection against her lower back. That greeting would startle her but always led to hot, passionate sex on the couch or the dining table, against the fridge or the kitchen countertop, as he enacted his office sex fantasies with his wife.

She had no idea that her body and her morning routine turned him on in a way it hadn’t a few years ago. She had assumed that he needed a release from work stress as soon as he got home since he was now rising up the corporate ladder in his late thirties. It never occurred to her that her husband was fucking her more because she just looked so sexy these days.

“So, do you think I look fat in this?” she asked again.

What he wanted to tell her was that if someone took a picture of her in that dress, stepped into a time machine, and gave it to him ten years ago when they had first met, he would have had no trouble masturbating over it. Her body now was what the dress was made for. He knew exactly what Sharon was doing to his wife and silently blessed her.

But he knew better than to say all that. He didn’t want to risk suggesting that he had suffered through a skinny body of hers all those years. He hadn’t. Far from it.

All he managed to say was, “Don’t worry about it, babe. You look hot in it. It’s revealing, yes, but in a classy sort of way.”

Somewhat convinced, she went back to the dressing room mirror one more time to adjust her makeup and hair. He followed her in as she stood in front of the mirror. She sensed him approaching and expected the ass squeeze, but instead, he slid his hand between her legs and up to her mound to feel her pussy through a G-string’s tiny cover-up.

Startled she turned around and asked, “What are you doing?”

“Just checking exactly how naked you are.”

She looked back with a nervous half smile. “Are you kidding? There’s a lot of action going on already.” Then she checked the time and her brows rose. “Let’s go. We’re getting late for dinner,” she said and led the way.

Stepping out of their suite, she realized the full extent of what she was getting into. As they walked through the hotel promenade, a cool breeze picked up. Before Sharon convinced her otherwise, she had initially ruled out the dress because it had to be worn without any kind of bra. Now, she could feel the breeze accentuating her scantily-clad nipples.

Talking of nipples, the front plunge of the dress purposefully lacked tethering to expose enough of the front and a good amount of sideboob. The fabric was free to sway any which way it wanted; if a strong gust ripped through the tiny bits of titty tape that desperately guarded her modesty, she would be topless in addition to being largely naked in the back. She couldn’t bend, sit on a chair, or walk up a flight of stairs without planning ahead of time. She hadn’t picked up on that fact when she tried it out at the store. (There was so much that shocked her about the dress; Sharon had practically forced her to get it.)

It helped that she had to walk carefully in five-inch heels because she now had the distinct feeling that if she didn’t check her gait, the dress would ride up her thigh ever so slowly to eventually expose her upper thigh from the back. If she took an escalator, people behind her could undoubtedly catch a glimpse of the G-string’s thin red strip of cloth that covered her womanhood under the dress. She wasn’t even sure if it covered her labia completely. Oh boy. She told herself she’d straighten the dress more as she got into the car but, for now, would just walk carefully.

As they walked past a crowd of people checking in, checking out, and generally milling around the lobby area, her faculties were focused on one objective: appear sexy, nonchalant, and cool on the outside but avoid any movements that could lead to a wardrobe malfunction. As she walked past the crowd with her arm in his, she became aware of the turning heads and the muffled but distinct “Fuck!” from someone in a college group. Although her sexy walk looked casual, it was anything but. She realized that exposing the female body was an art form. You always had to stay PG-13 but continuously threaten to go R. All the attention made her wet, almost dripping. She needed to take care of that when she got into the car as well.

Her husband was having a hard time managing his hard-on. If he focused too much on his wife in that gorgeous dress, he would have a big tent in his slacks, but he really wanted to do something more than just hold her hand as they walked. He didn’t want to just look at her for the next two hours; that would be too much. He regretted they didn’t arrive at the hotel early enough for a quickie. Now he had to deal with a stiffie straining against his boxers and slacks for a very long time. From the moment she emerged from the dressing area musing about how she looked in that dress, he’d had an erection that just wouldn’t go away. Normally he’d distract himself with something else, but his wife was teasing his cock by just being there, making it impossible for him—and anyone else within 20 feet—to look anywhere else.

They managed to get to the hotel parking lot. As they approached their car, she shifted her matching red purse to her left hand and began to adjust the folds of her dress with her right. From the corner of her eye, she noticed him come over to the passenger side of the car just as she opened the door, probably to complement her.

As she straightened her dress, he came up against her back and pressed her onto the side of the car. His left hand traveled along her exposed back. The dress being essentially a loosely draped scarf over the entire front of her body above the waist meant that he had no trouble exploring her stomach and belly button with his hand underneath the fabric. It slid upward to find her naked left breast. The titty tape was no match for his strong hands as his left palm covered her nipple, and without the adhesive, the dress fluttered over his hand rather aimlessly. His right hand wandered up her thigh, and he gently parted her feet a bit more to allow it a path between her legs, where it found a soaking wet pussy sticking to the matching G-string’s red swath. He grabbed her entire womanhood in his large right palm under her dress while his left hand squeezed her breast, feeling her erect nipple with his forefinger and gently stroking it. He bent forward to kiss the back of her neck, his mouth tracing the length of her sexy pendant earrings to the lobe of her left ear. There, he gently kissed her earlobe and whispered, “You look amazing,” as he held her pussy and her left breast in his firm grip.

As her husband pressed himself into her, she could feel his massive erection against her bare back through his boxers and slacks. She felt weak with pleasure. With her back to him, she couldn’t see his face, so she turned her head left and, with a nervous but loving smile, said “Yeah, I feel like I walked out naked to dinner and am pretending I am wearing clothes.”

“I can’t wait two hours, babe. I need to have you now,” he declared.

Conscious of the transition from PG13 to R in a public parking lot,  her left hand involuntarily met his over her breast. She thought about returning to the suite. If they did that now, they’d surely fuck for hours, way past the closing time of most restaurants. Maybe they could order pasta from the all-night menu, something that could go with her husband’s cum.

As her mind wandered, she suddenly realized that her husband wasn’t suggesting they go back to the suite at all. His right hand had unzipped his slacks and fished out his glistening cock. Now he was using his fingers to spread open her pussy so he could make an entrance under her dress, pushing out her heels more so her pussy could open wider. R was fast moving to X.

“Wait… What? Honey, we can’t do that here. Let’s go to the…”

He wasn’t listening. His shaft had already entered her.

“Honey… God, what are you doing?” Her pussy was betraying her by throwing a welcome party for his dick. He was gliding inside her effortlessly as she pulsated around him.

With her womanhood firmly engaged by his manhood, his right hand became free to explore the front of her torso and put the other piece of titty tape out of commission. His cock had entered her completely now—he now knew it was possible—and with both tits in his grasp, he used them to move her up and down over his engulfed penis.

“It’s a parking lot, honey. People may see us. I mean we can make out a bit, but this is…”

He was now pushing harder and faster. Between his wife’s words and her body’s response, he was getting mixed messages and had no interest in reconciling the two. He thrust into her under her dress, keeping her pinned between him and the side of the car.

The transition from heavy petting to overt public sex was so quick that it took her aback. This entire escapade had taken her out of her comfort zone, so she didn’t feel clear on boundaries now. As her mind caught up and juggled the appropriateness in this new world, it stayed one step behind his advances. Worse, her body was giving in to desire. Her protests had already given way to moans, and she was having a very hard time summoning her willpower. If this continued for too much longer, he would blow a load into her while she screamed in ecstasy in a public parking lot for all to see.

As he thrust deeper, harder, and quicker, she made one last-ditch effort to summon her better judgment. Sexy, revealing dress that may occasionally show nipple or pussy if one looked really carefully. Okay, right? “Right!” Fucking outside the car in a parking lot when there isn’t anybody—we think—okay, too, right? “No! Of course not! Are you out of your mind?”

Finally, she began to re-establish control. She brought her legs together, clenched her pussy, and withdrew while deliberately making an effort to free herself from his grip.

“No, honey, no. We just can’t do this,” she said in a firm tone just as she freed herself.

He knew she was right. When they both regained their composure, he had a glistening cock standing straight out of his pants, and she was topless with her dress scrunched above her ass and a naked pussy underneath for all to see. Titty tape and G-string askew, mere witnesses to the blatant exhibitionism.

As he sent his member back into the dungeon of his slacks and she fixed her dress and all its modesty devices, she felt a vague kind of anger building up in her. She felt they had narrowly missed starring in a viral YouTube video. Those things could have consequences nobody could predict.

She began, “My God honey, you were trying to fuck me here in an open parking lot. No, you did fuck me here in an open parking lot. I barely stopped you from shooting a load into me before someone saw us. What has gotten into you? Also, you do realize if someone saw us, they wouldn’t have just looked away. They’d almost surely have thought you were raping me. I was saying no, no,  and you were just banging me harder.”

He asked her for a tissue so he could wipe the pre-cum off his dick to avoid it showing on his slacks. Other than that, he didn’t say much. He realized he should have stopped after feeling her up, instead of raising the stakes and overtly humping his wife in a public place in complete disregard for her privacy.

“I am sorry. Shouldn’t have done it,” was all he said, but she knew he meant it.

As she thought through what had happened, she now saw all the signs she had missed. Why did he want to drive out earlier? Obviously to leave some time for sex before dinner. After that did not happen, she sprung this fuck-me dress on him last minute. He touched her in front of the mirror not to see if she was wearing any panties; it was the first move of a primal coital dance that she should have reciprocated. Instead, she hurried him out for dinner, leaving him gawking at her along with the varsity team in the lobby.

She was now filled with remorse. All he had done was make love to her. It was very unfair of her to even bring up rape.

She looked at him and said, “I’m sorry, honey. That wasn’t fair. We both were having spontaneous sex, and we lost track of lines we shouldn’t have crossed. But I guess if a tree falls in a forest, who is to say it fell?”

They exchanged smiles. Touching his hand, she continued, “Look, I know I turn you on more these days. I know you want to fuck my brains out every time we have sex. There’s like this beast that comes out of you now that wasn’t there before. In fact, I was telling Sharon about it, and that’s when she suggested going shopping with me to expand my horizons. And don’t get me wrong; I am all yours, baby. I want you to ravage me. I just need to get there at my own pace.”

They both sat in silence for some time.

“We can go back to the suite and continue from where we left off or go to dinner and then continue from where we left off. You pick,” she offered.

“Let’s go to dinner. I promise I’ll behave. Especially because the dragon in the dungeon is gonna have his way with you tonight sooner or later,” he said, pointing to the bulge in his slacks that had become a permanent feature of this trip.

They both laughed as he moved the car into drive. The nervous excitement began to build inside her once again, as she thought of the second surprise she had for him. As for the beast, it began to strain against the slacks once again, hoping to be liberated soon.

To be continued…