Dressing up a Redhead

Marc showered quickly and stepped out of the glass stall, drying himself off and hitting his hair with the blowdryer as he brushed it out. A little bit of product to keep it from becoming mussed and he was ready to go - he did, however, hesitate over his clothes. He could go back out naked, or he could go back out wearing his athletic shorts without underwear. The first option would be a little more intimidating, his cock out like that. Especially since he intended to use it. The other would be a little more about temptation though. Sinead would see the bulge in the front, but not get a good look until he wanted her to.

He opted for the shorts, sliding them on quickly and bundling his underwear and shirt together to toss into his laundry bin. Then he stepped out of the washroom and made a point of not looking at Sinead until he’d opened his closet and tossed the sweaty clothes inside.

When he did turn to her, he pursed his lips slightly as he controlled his reaction.

She looked stunning. The bra must have been a near-perfect fit - it was always difficult to purchase Felicity something for her bust that fit comfortably since every damned bra maker in the world seemed to work by different standards and sizes. This one hugged Sinead’s small breasts wonderfully though, lifting them into a slight cleavage without being too ridiculous. The lace and see-through mesh teased without revealing more than a couple of glimpses at her areola, and the extra ‘cage’ straps that framed her inner cleavage and connected to the main straps hinted at an element of bondage without being obvious about it. The garter belt fit her waist nicely, and she’d donned the expensive thigh-highs he’d ordered a couple of weeks before from France - nothing made in America seemed to compete with British or French work when it came to hose.

Sinead was standing between the bed and the mirror, likely having been looking herself over in the standing mirror, and she was chewing on the inside of her lip nervously as he gazed at her.

“Turn, ma petite rebelle,” Marc said, stepping towards her and twirling a finger.

She did as he asked, slowly turning. Her ass was framed perfectly in the panties, and her thin, lightly muscled back with its smooth, pale skin looked delightful.

Marc approached her fully as she finished her slow spin and caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger, looking down into her eyes as she looked up at him - a spark of challenge in them. She knew she looked good, and she didn’t like that he wasn’t saying so. That was the Sinead he was used to dealing with, the fun Sinead that was a little resistant without being petulant about it.

“How do the stockings feel?” he asked her, diverting her attention.

“They feel- fuck, I’m not usually a pantyhose kind of woman but they feel amazing,” she admitted. “I’ve never felt anything so smooth before.”

Marc smiled and nodded. “Only the best for a woman I share my time with, Detective,” he said. Then he let go of her chin and stroked his finger over the necklace he’d given her. “You look ravishing, Sinead,” he said quietly. “Good enough to eat.”

“Thank you,” she said a little breathlessly, responding to him giving her what she’d wanted.

“In fact,” he said, then surprised her by reaching around her and picking her up by the ass, twirling her around in a circle once before lowering her to the bed until she was sitting, and then laying back, on it as he loomed over her. “I think I’ll do just that.”

Marc spread Sinead’s legs at the knees purposefully, and she looked at him with wide eyes as he knelt beside the bed and let his lips brush along the silky, lace tops of the thigh highs before trailing to her warm, bare skin. He kissed her there, and then swapped legs to the other bare portion of thigh, before kissing higher still.

And then he sighed.

“Detective, attention,” he said. “From now on, when you are wearing a garter belt, the panties or thong go on after the belt is connected to the stockings, compris? Now how am I supposed to easily pull these panties off of you? And how are you supposed to go to the washroom?”

“I- Uh,” Sinead said, flushing a bit in embarrassment. “I’ve never worn a garter belt before,” she said. “I didn’t think of that.”

Marc tsked and sighed softly, then raised an eyebrow. “What did you wear for your wedding with your ex?”

“I didn’t wear stockings or pantyhose,” she said. “Just a garter for the garter toss. It was a summer wedding, pretty casual.”

“Quelle honte,” Marc sighed. “And now I must fix things.” He slowly began undoing each band from the garter belt that was attached to the stockings, taking his time to tease her with little touches and looks.

“Um…” Sinead said after a long moment. “This is… a weird question, and you can say no. Would you want to fuck me in my wedding dress?”

Marc stopped what he was doing, blinking in surprise as he looked at Sinead. “I hadn’t thought about it,” he admitted. He would have assumed that, if she still had the dress, it would be something of a sacred item.

“I only ever got to wear it like three times, and two of those were for fittings and once for the wedding,” she said. “I always loved how I looked in it though. And my ex… well, let’s just say he wasn’t as adventurous as your pinky finger, let alone how you are, Marc. I think it would be kind of hot to maybe, sometime, play around in it. Just for roleplay. Or whatever.”

Marc had finished his unbuckling of the garter straps and he wrapped his fingers into the waistband of her new panties, slowly tugging them down as he looked her in the eyes. “If that’s something you would like to do, Detective, I think we could have a very intimate night of fun with that particular game. Perhaps you are the runaway bride, and I am the best man disgusted by his cheating friend?”

“That would be good,” she breathed out and nodded.

“Then let’s put a pin in that, as my employees like to say,” Marc said as he gently pulled the panties down her thighs and over the stockings, taking them all the way off her legs and leaving her bare to him. “Because as I mentioned, you look good enough to eat.”

<U>Translations</U>
- “Quelle honte,” = “What a shame,”

Breakthebar erotica is powered by Patreon, where early chapters are released ahead for all of my series. Le Francais is a Commissioned Work. PM if interested in helping fund the series, or if you are looking to commission a story of your own!