Friday writing prompt: Dressing Up

[EmilyMiller]

I dry my hair, a towel still wrapped around me, fresh from the shower. Today, I decide to leave my locks au naturel. I think the slight wave might complement what I plan to wear. I’d normally do my makeup last, but let’s be wild and crazy, shall we? Not a lot, just brushing on some blush, a little something on my eyelids, and lip gloss; scarlet, of course. That will do.

I open the paper bag the store gave me. It’s a high-end place and even the bag is kinda classy. Maybe I’ll keep it. But first, the contents. I extract four precious items and lay them on the counter next to the sink. There is a built-in, full-length mirror on the adjacent wall. I drop my towel and survey my naked body.

I’m maybe a little less girlish than a few years ago. Nowadays, my hips have a slight curve, and my breasts swell a little more. Perhaps the heady heights of a B cup might even beckon in time. I haven’t been running. I picked up a twinge where they repaired my ACL, and you have to be careful. But my stomach is still pleasingly flat. Well, I think, let’s try to make a silk purse out of a short, overly skinny thirty-something.

I pick up the bra first and cut the tags off. It’s black and diaphanous. But more French mistress than stripper. It’s delicate, sophisticated, a thing of beauty; probably too beautiful for little me. Wrapping it around me front to back, I fasten the three clasps in place, wriggle it around, and pull the straps up and over my shoulders. It fits well, which is uncommon for me. ‘Definitely a case of making the most of what you have,’ I muse, stroking a nipple, which is clearly visible through the thin fabric.

Next, the garter belt, and I repeat my fastening routine. The belt itself is deep and hugs my narrow waist, looking almost like a lacy corset. Now the stockings, also black but very sheer and very silky. I gather one in both hands, ease the toe over my left foot and roll it smoothly up my leg, clipping it to the belt, back and front. And then the right. My legs look somehow longer, a flattering trompe l’oeil.

I debate whether to leave the panties off, but they are so pretty. I step into them and carefully pull them up, not wanting to get a run in my stockings. I fetch a pair of high heels from the bedroom - also black, of course - and return to the mirror before putting them on. ‘Not bad at all,’ I smile to myself. I turn and check that the rear garter straps are straight, and think, ‘At least my butt is nothing to be ashamed of.’

I walk back into the bedroom and open the door. Sticking my head out, I yell down, “Want to see what I bought, hun?”

 

[lwppp000]

Jesus, again? I could feel the goob from my usual nightly emission in my tidy whitey underwear. I hobble to our common bathroom with a clean pair.
Inside, door closed, I follow my usual routine. Yep, she's tossed a fresh pair of her undies in the hamper. Fresh as in recent, not fresh as in clean. This pair is particularly fragrant. The smell of her heavenly juices is arousing. I can even see a faint stain. Or is it only a feint stain?
My God! Even a puby! A nice, curled, wavy black hair. Cha-ching! It's going to be a great day.
I put her panties over my head, crotch masking my nose, and gander at my silliness in the mirror. I inhale the aroma in deep satisfying breaths.
After enough smells I reluctantly remove the panties from my face. Now the fun part.
I take off my underwear. My cock is hard almost to the point of pain.
I have to stretch her panties to get the up past my thighs and up to my waist. The feel of the thin stretchy fabric enhances the sexiness of it. I gaze at not just the bold outline of my cock, but the near transparent material allows a view of my cock squeezed into this garment of pleasure.
I use the thin material to masturbate. No problem... great result.
Well, enough dress-up frolic. I remove her panties now with two stains. Time to hop in the shower, get dressed for real and seize the day.

 

[EmilyMiller]

Jesus, again? I could feel the goob from my usual nightly emission in my tidy whitey underwear. I hobble to our common bathroom with a clean pair.
Inside, door closed, I follow my usual routine. Yep, she's tossed a fresh pair of her undies in the hamper. Fresh as in recent, not fresh as in clean. This pair is particularly fragrant. The smell of her heavenly juices is arousing. I can even see a faint stain. Or is it only a feint stain?
My God! Even a puby! A nice, curled, wavy black hair. Cha-ching! It's going to be a great day.
I put her panties over my head, crotch masking my nose, and gander at my silliness in the mirror. I inhale the aroma in deep satisfying breaths.
After enough smells I reluctantly remove the panties from my face. Now the fun part.
I take off my underwear. My cock is hard almost to the point of pain.
I have to stretch her panties to get the up past my thighs and up to my waist. The feel of the thin stretchy fabric enhances the sexiness of it. I gaze at not just the bold outline of my cock, but the near transparent material allows a view of my cock squeezed into this garment of pleasure.
I use the thin material to masturbate. No problem... great result.
Well, enough dress-up frolic. I remove her panties now with two stains. Time to hop in the shower, get dressed for real and seize the day.

You’re @Djmac1031’s alt, right? The sniffing more than the wearing (unless there is something he’s not telling me ).

 

[lwppp000]

No, I'm not Djmac1031 but he sounds like a fun guy! We put to panting in panties. Btw: skid marks are ok too.

 

[EmilyMiller]

Btw: skid marks are ok too.

Eew

 

[Djmac1031]

No, I'm not Djmac1031 but he sounds like a fun guy! We put to panting in panties. Btw: skid marks are ok too.

Eew

Yeah no, not kink shaming but definitely count me out on that.

But I do consider myself a fun guy otherwise lol.

 

[EmilyMiller]

So - writing prompt…

 

[Soixenta]

It felt strange to be laying out her mother's clothes. A satin blouse of a soft blue. A black skirt that came to her knees. Stockings, with a fine line running up the back. Matching bra and undies, a darker shade of blue than the blouse, with enough lace to almost reveal what they hid.

They were a close enough fit. She'd always taken after her mother, and as she developed into womanhood her body took on her mother's form too. She faced herself in the mirror and added a touch of make-up. It was almost as if it was her mother looking back at her.

The shoes were slightly too big, but she didn't intend to wear them long. She was about to walk to the door when she remembered something. A quick look in the cupboard turned up the fancy French perfume that she always associated with her mother. She spritzed the tiniest amount onto her chest, her wrists, then stood and let it adjust to her body.

Several minutes later she made her slow way down the stairs. Part of it was the shoes, of course, but she was also taking care to be sensual. Slow steps, one foot before the other, swaying her hips slightly.

Tom looked up, mouth agape. "M-mum?" he whispered.

She smiled and stepped closer to him. "For tonight I'm Mum. Live your fantasy, little brother."

 

[Rob_Royale]

Anna stood at the door stunned. She never expected this. She'd known him for years and all that time, it was torn jeans and grass-covered boots and sweat-stained T-shirts, with the five-day beard. Not a surprise she supposed, as he was, until a week ago, just the guy that mowed the lawn every week. The guy with the broad shoulders and gorgeous eyes and dazzling smile that made her knees weak as he mowed her lawn. She'd once seen him out at a store, and his wardrobe wasn't much different, just cleaner. So, when he finally asked her out, she was expecting perhaps a polo shirt? A pair of khaki pants, on the extreme?

But at her door was a gorgeous man, with a fresh haircut, clean shaven. His slacks were a charcoal gray with black shoes and belt. His shirt was turquoise, and a fitted dove-gray sport coat, completed the ensemble, the colors working beautifully together. All pressed, clean and fitted, it seemed. It fit him perfectly. "Oh gosh, Gabe. You look—," she paused, her words failing her.

Gabe's face colored a bit. "I know. Pretty different, right? I wanted to look good for you."

Anna's jaw dropped and she looked down at herself. She wore a knee length sundress, a blue one she thought was pretty, but next to him, it looked like she was wearing a burlap sack. "Oh, God. I have to go change!" She looked at the twenty-eight-year-old man who stood looking like a runway model and forced herself not to think about the twenty years between them. "Don't you move! I'll be right back!

 

[StillStunned]

I came awake with a start. Even in the darkness of my room I could tell there was someone nearby. Standing by my bed. I could hear breathing. Feel their presence.

Alarmed, I reached out and switched on my bedside light. When I turned, my heart lurched inside my chest at what I saw.

A giant rabbit. It leaned forward until it almost hung over me. I shrank back into my mattress. "Who - who are you? What do you want?" The panic in my voice was audible even to my own ears.

"I... am..." the monstrosity said in a harsh whisper, drawing out the words, "I... am... the... Plot Bunny!"

I stared, then laughed. It was so silly, so soon after the panic I'd felt.

"Stop laughing!" the Plot Bunny ordered. "I've come to torture you!"

Now I noticed that the costume ended at the waist. Below it, I saw the redhead's legs, and between them... "Come here, Plot Bunny," I said, making a grab for her. "I've been wanting to do this for a long time!"

 

[MrPixel]

"You ready?"

"I guess. Lemme get my reading glasses."

"You know I can't see down there."

"I know. We go through this every time. I am wishing it was for me this time around."

"But you do such a good job."

"I suppose. You recall John showed me how to do it right and get everything really smooth."

"John who?"

"At the cabin?"

She chuckles, with a wistful, "Oh. Yeah."

I do what needs to be done in prep for where we're going shortly. Now finished, I reach for the powder, but have to ask first.​

"Panties, or no? You're wearing that really short cotton dress, right?"

"Yeah. Easier access. What do you suggest?"

"Wear panties. You'll want to contain anything remaining after you're done for the drive home.

"Makes sense. I have a pad in my purse."

"How long you think you'll be?"

"He usually takes maybe 45 minutes. Any mess depends on how much lube he uses."

"Okay. He commented on your shave last time."

"Uh huh. He appreciated that you did such a good job."

"Jewelry? Necklace, maybe?"

"That would be nice. He doesn't care either way once I'm undressed. Easy enough to take off. He complained it was in the way time before last."

"You 'bout ready?"

"Let's go. I'm glad this is only once a year with him."

"I hear ya'."

"Yeah. Gyno appointments are such a pain."

 

[Annabelle1990]

I dry my hair, a towel still wrapped around me, fresh from the shower. Today, I decide to leave my locks au naturel. I think the slight wave might complement what I plan to wear. I’d normally do my makeup last, but let’s be wild and crazy, shall we? Not a lot, just brushing on some blush, a little something on my eyelids, and lip gloss; scarlet, of course. That will do.

I open the paper bag the store gave me. It’s a high-end place and even the bag is kinda classy. Maybe I’ll keep it. But first, the contents. I extract four precious items and lay them on the counter next to the sink. There is a built-in, full-length mirror on the adjacent wall. I drop my towel and survey my naked body.

I’m maybe a little less girlish than a few years ago. Nowadays, my hips have a slight curve, and my breasts swell a little more. Perhaps the heady heights of a B cup might even beckon in time. I haven’t been running. I picked up a twinge where they repaired my ACL, and you have to be careful. But my stomach is still pleasingly flat. Well, I think, let’s try to make a silk purse out of a short, overly skinny thirty-something.

I pick up the bra first and cut the tags off. It’s black and diaphanous. But more French mistress than stripper. It’s delicate, sophisticated, a thing of beauty; probably too beautiful for little me. Wrapping it around me front to back, I fasten the three clasps in place, wriggle it around, and pull the straps up and over my shoulders. It fits well, which is uncommon for me. ‘Definitely a case of making the most of what you have,’ I muse, stroking a nipple, which is clearly visible through the thin fabric.

Next, the garter belt, and I repeat my fastening routine. The belt itself is deep and hugs my narrow waist, looking almost like a lacy corset. Now the stockings, also black but very sheer and very silky. I gather one in both hands, ease the toe over my left foot and roll it smoothly up my leg, clipping it to the belt, back and front. And then the right. My legs look somehow longer, a flattering trompe l’oeil.

I debate whether to leave the panties off, but they are so pretty. I step into them and carefully pull them up, not wanting to get a run in my stockings. I fetch a pair of high heels from the bedroom - also black, of course - and return to the mirror before putting them on. ‘Not bad at all,’ I smile to myself. I turn and check that the rear garter straps are straight, and think, ‘At least my butt is nothing to be ashamed of.’

I walk back into the bedroom and open the door. Sticking my head out, I yell down, “Want to see what I bought, hun?”

I'm too OCD to go out of sequence. I'm jealous you can. I can't even go on stairs without starting with my left foot. I totally have to do hair first, then get dressed, and then makeup. In that order. No exceptions.

 

[redgarters]

I came awake with a start. Even in the darkness of my room I could tell there was someone nearby. Standing by my bed. I could hear breathing. Feel their presence.

Alarmed, I reached out and switched on my bedside light. When I turned, my heart lurched inside my chest at what I saw.

A giant rabbit. It leaned forward until it almost hung over me. I shrank back into my mattress. "Who - who are you? What do you want?" The panic in my voice was audible even to my own ears.

"I... am..." the monstrosity said in a harsh whisper, drawing out the words, "I... am... the... Plot Bunny!"

I stared, then laughed. It was so silly, so soon after the panic I'd felt.

"Stop laughing!" the Plot Bunny ordered. "I've come to torture you!"

Now I noticed that the costume ended at the waist. Below it, I saw the redhead's legs, and between them... "Come here, Plot Bunny," I said, making a grab for her. "I've been wanting to do this for a long time!"

...but as a redhead below decks? Oh dear.
*newkinkunlocked*

 

[EmilyMiller]

I'm too OCD to go out of sequence. I'm jealous you can. I can't even go on stairs without starting with my left foot. I totally have to do hair first, then get dressed, and then makeup. In that order. No exceptions.

It was a nod to my own ASD, and yeah I even have a routine for putting sugar in my coffee cup and my SO’s. But I’m aware that others face greater compulsions than I do .

 

[EmilyMiller]

View attachment 2618402
...but as a redhead below decks? Oh dear.
*newkinkunlocked*

I thought exactly that too

 

[StillStunned]

Hey, find your own redheads! Mine's taken!

 

[Annabelle1990]

Hey, find your own redheads! Mine's taken!

So is my husband's.

 

[ShelbyDawn57]

A snippet from my pending story, Eclosion.

Luxuriating in my bath until it cooled, I sipped my wine, running my hands over my now silky-smooth legs and rubbing my thighs and calves together. I always relished the feeling. Bliss is the only word that comes close.

Slathering moisturizer over my lithe body, I smiled at the figure in the mirror. I worked hard to stay in shape and learned in college what exercises I needed to do to keep my waist thin, accentuating my butt and hips. Never bulking, always toning. That had been my philosophy, and the result was a nice, fit, decidedly feminine body.

Applying my adhesive and pressing my forms into place completed the picture. With a touch of makeup, Sabrina would be ready to get dressed.

Of course, the stockings were first, and Sabrina wore only the best. The money she had spent at Wolford was embarrassing. She liked to do a little dance after she fastened her garter around her waist. Letting the clips excitedly tease her thighs as she rolled the delicate nylon, preparing for the wonderful sensation of it sliding up her long legs. She would breathe deeply, shuddering slightly as the sheer black gossamer covered her skin from her toes up. It was magic.

Once in place, she would run her hands up and down her legs. Smoothing the stockings and relishing the feeling before adeptly fastening the clips to keep the stocking in place.

Once satisfied, she would repeat the process on the other side.

The Spurs were playing the Lakers tonight. She knew exactly which bra and panty set she was going to wear. Delicate satin and lace in black with silver accents.

She even had the perfect outfit, a black miniskirt that barely covered the tops of her stockings with a flimsy silver lame top. Her heels, five-inch stilettos - classic black. “No reason to go over the top.” She giggled as she admired herself in the mirror. A spritz or two of Chanel - she went to refill her wine, order some dinner, and settle in for the game. She loved the way the delivery boys ogled her when they brought her food.

 

[redgarters]

The crinkle of the paper is the only sound heard as my fingers slowly peel away the sticker holding the bag closed. My breath is shallow, heart pounding, when I pull the items out of it one by one, the delicate materials feeling light and seductive in my hands.

I put down the bag and sit on the bed, half-shivering as I pull on the sheer stockings, the feeling of them covering my skin making me breathe easier. Slower. Like the stress of the past weeks is draining away with every inch that the nylon covers. The garter belt clips around my waist and to the tops of the stockings and I stand, naked except for those forbidden garments, things that I'm not supposed to be wearing. These sexy, delicate lacy things that are made for people who aren't me.

The thong slips up my legs, over the red garters, a fashion faux pas, but I know... or hoping... that she's going to want to pull the panties off me soon enough. The flowery halter dress gives my wide shoulders freedom to move, but is way too short for polite company, showing the tops of my stockings however I turn. But today's company is anything but polite.

My heart is thumping for real now.

"Are you ready, honey? Can I see?" Her voice is dripping with a blend of curiosity and excitement. For the thousandth time I think of how I didn't expect this to ever happen. That I'd never tell her. That she'd never understand.

To find out, to know that she's turned on by the idea is still making my mind reel. That she went out and bought all of this... for me.

I slip my toes into the red heels, fastening the small clasps at my ankles.

"I'm... yes... I'm ready."

And then I open the door and walk out into the living room.

All dressed up for my love.

 

[caleb35]

Ashley looked at herself in the trifold mirror. The pink silk lingerie hid almost nothing. The bra pushed up her breasts while leaving the tops of them completely bare, just covering the nipples, and only then with a translucency that revealed all under the right light. The small triangle over her pubic mound left it apparent that she shaved herself bare. She turned to one side and then the other, noting how her sides were completely nude but for the thin cloth string traveling around both hips. She felt the cold air on her naked ass, felt the thong ride up between her cheeks and touch her anus. It was a sensation she didn't care for, hence why she'd never preferred thongs, but her cares and preferences were hardly the paramount ones.

The other woman in the dressing room stood just off to the side and came into view as she stepped towards Ashley, her sharply tailored business suit providing the starkest contrast against Ashley's barely clad appearance. Her apparel benefactor, and patron in so many other facets, stepped up behind her and placed her fingertips lightly on Ashley's shoulders.

"You look beautiful," Beatrice told her. Ashley saw the older woman's eyes almost twinkle in the reflection as she spoke. "No, better than beautiful. Divine. How does it feel on you?"

"Good," Ashley answered. It was a truthful answer but one she would've spoken anyway even if she'd felt differently.

"Do you like it?" Beatrice asked.

"I do."

"And what do you say?" Beatrice's hands were now fully massaging Ashley's shoulders, lightly, but even so.

"Thank you, ma'am," Ashley said.

"You're welcome," Beatrice said, lowering her hands. "Go ahead and get dressed."

A minute later the two women left the dressing room together and checked out, Beatrice paying as usual. The shop girl averted her eyes from both of them as much as possible. It was clear that she suspected the nature of their relationship and did not approve. Ashley felt her gorge rise, bit her lip to avoid saying anything. Who was this clerk, a woman her own age, to judge her or who she associated with or how she got by? Ashley turned away before Beatrice finished paying and waited for her by the store entrance. They walked out through the mall, Ashley studiously looking ahead and not at anyone they passed.

"Don't I take good care of you?" Beatrice asked her as they made their way to Beatrice's luxury car with the warm leather seats and polished upholstery.

"Yes, ma'am," Ashley reflexively answered, thinking of how many minutes it'd take for Beatrice to drive them from the lot to her house, where Ashley would be expected to reimburse Beatrice for the lingerie, in their own intimate, previously agreed upon, manner.

 

[Annabelle1990]

I need to write my next story.

 

[Rob_Royale]

I need to write my next story.

I know right? If I didn't have three stories going right now, I could turn my little vignette into something fun.

 

[Annabelle1990]

I fucked myself by skipping ahead. Now I have to go back to being the shy housewife I used to be and if I am on the forums it pulls me out of character.

 

[EmilyMiller]

I know right? If I didn't have three stories going right now, I could turn my little vignette into something fun.

I’ve started turning last week’s vignette into a short story

 

[Annabelle1990]

I’ve started turning last week’s vignette into a short story

You are like a real writer too!