Monday, June 15, 2009

Catherine's valentine day, part 5 FF, sexual

"Work? What do you mean I'm going to work too? I'm off today, and..."

"Catherine, I don't mean you are going in to Your work, sugar. You are coming to My office, and are going to be put to work there, young lady!"

I could see the light finally going on above her pretty little red head.

"Oh. Ohhhhhhhhhh!" Big smile, as she undertstood that this was going to be some type of play time."

'kay, but you said I had to shower after you! What, don't you Want to shower with me?"

That, as she was 'sprawled' on the bed, just so. One arm behind her head, red hair fanned around her again, one knee bent and pointing up, the other knee, slightly bent and in, showing off one hip...my little girl was working it hard...and I realized I had forgotten what I was saying.

She had that little 'I win' smile on her face now, and she had. I leaned forward, to give her her reward, a nice wet kiss...and then steeled myself, and pulled away

."Baby, sweety, the problem is that I Do want to shower with you. And wash you. And touch you All over, inside and out, missy, and then get down to some Serious molesting, and then....."

As I detailed what I wanted to do to her, she blushed, even as she smiled and oh my'ed and scissored her thighs.

"But, baby, I Do have to get in, and I know I won't be able to if I have you in there with me, got it, missy?"

A giggle and a "Yes ma'am", very much a lower case ma'am, was my answer.

"Besides, I have a job for you while I get ready, geez, I'm running late! You, young lady, get to pick out what you want me to wear to the OFFICE. Your choice, but remember, we are going to be coming home later, and I will change again, if you want, before we go to the club. So, OFFICE clothes, but your call, and that means you get to pick everything, brat. Oh, and honey? I want you to stay as you are until I come back, and you help me dress..."

And then a quick kiss, and I was gone, as she blushed, concious only now that I had mentioned it, at her state of dress, or rather partial state of dress... only the sheer bra, and that not all the way on, she, like me, more embarrassed by partial nudity than full.I took a quick shower, long ago learned from growing up on the farm with three other sisters, and then life in the Army. Long soaks are nice, but not always needed. A quick shampoo, then lather and rinse the body, rinse out the shampoo, and I was done.

And back into the bedroom, to see what she had out. Smiling at the sight that greeted me there. Clothes put on the bed, but, my sugar bending over, in one of the lower dresser drawers looking for something, fanny waving in the air, pinkish red brush marks still evident in places.I came up behind her, and popped her lightly on the fanny, catching her as she squeaked, and preventing her from bumping her head.

Got a "That wasn't very nice" followed by "I got it!" as she pulled something out.

And she did a Vanna pose, displaying what was on the bed.Bit her lip, as I looked.

"I, I was hoping you would go retro today...."

I smiled, retro would do Just fine for the frame of mind I was in. And I told her so, and then I asked her to help me dress.Big smile as my bare bottomed baby did just that.She loves me in retro, as she sometimes calls it. Other times, she calls it my June Cleaver look. But I like it too. The old style fashions, meant to show off, to compliment a woman's curves, styles that emphasised that she was a woman, not a girl, with a woman's figure, but yet, not vulgar.

For those too young to remember the movies from that time, more modern movies, such as L.A. Confidential, or China Town or Pearl Harbor can show you what I mean.

But first, a lady always dresses from the skin out. And she had laid out the retro lingere as well. Some may think of old fashioned panties, as being matronly. Some people need to take a Long, hard look at the old Betty Page photos.The bra and panty set were black, with narrow, expensive lace trim. Semi sheer. Almost, not quite hiding me. The panties were snug, nylon briefs, riding up partly between my cheeks, and I heard her moan slightly as I let her tug them into place. I grabbed her briefly, and kissed her not so briefly.

Next, because a proper lady always wears the correct foundations, the black, with lace panels, open bottomed girdle, with attached garters. Of course.

A bit snug, but that was the whole point. And not that I minded her hands helping to tug things where they should be. I was already feeling different inside, as I ran my own hands down my sides, my tummy, over my hips and fanny, as my little bitch slid the stockings up one leg, then the other, attaching them with practiced ease to the garters.

Black slip, next. After all, improper to have any panty lines or lines from undergarments showing.

And then the blouse, saphire, silk, one of my favorites, the neckline just high enough so that the slip didn't show. Grey, soft pleated skirt, slightly above the knee, Snug at waist, and snug at hips and bottom as well, and only slightly looser at the bottom. And last, the matching tailored jacket,the kind that emphasised, rather than minimimzed my hips. Whether standing, or walking.

I let her brush the make up on quick, she has such good hands, the problem had been with Me learning to relax and just let her do it. Hair pulled back in a loose french braid, pearl studs in my ears, a small pearl necklace peeking through my open collar. High heel shoes, the women will know the kind I mean without more detail, the men wouldn't know if I described in much more detail.

A quick spray of perfume, and I was ready.Kissed her, thanked her. Swatted her.And gave her her own instructions, before I left.

1. She had ONE hour to be at the office. No later than that. Or it would be a PUNISHMENT spanking, and not a play one she got for acting out. That got her attention and a quick "yes Ma'am!" Upper case Ma'am this time, I noticed.

2. Her outfit was to be something that was pushing it for the office, but not too much. None of the naughtier club wear. Perhaps too short, or too tight, or too low, well, she got the idea.

3. Today, I wasn't Angie, I was Ms. Johnson. And my office manager wasn't Julie, but was Mrs. Concepcion. And she had Better not forget.And then I left, wondering how the day was going to play out.


love,
Angie
ps There are one to three more parts of this series out there somewhere, in cyberspace, but I don't have them anymore. So if anyone knows where they are, please let me know? Otherwise, this is where it's going to stop for now.

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