Hawaiian Shirt F/F domestic

Entry for August 23, 2008 Hawaiian Shirt F/F dd
Another I did about 8 years ago, but it seemed So perfect for Daddie Sly right now...
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"Angie, open this door."

"No." came back the reply from behind the closed and locked master bathroom door.

"Young lady, open this door Right Now." I said a little more sternly, getting tired of this little game rather quickly.

"I don't think so." "Open this door or else. Now."

I swear, when I get my hands on that little wench....

"No. Now go away, I'm busy."

"Angie, if you don't open that door right now, I am going to come in there after you, and you WON'T like that, missy, I can promise you."

"I am NOT coming out, and you aren't coming in. In case you hadn't noticed or remembered, it opens out, and the hinges are on the inside. Also, YOU were the one who insisted on a security door and steel frame, so if the house were ever robbed, I could hide out in here. So, I'm staying on this side, and you are staying out there."

Crap, I had forgotten about that stupid door. Her infuriatingly reasonable responses were doing nothing to help my mood.

"If you want me to come out, I'm still waiting for my apology."

And that really was what this was all about, but if I let her have an inch, the girl would take a mile.

"I am not going to apologize, now come out."

"No. First you insult me, and then you threaten me, and you expect me to come out. Ha."

"I did not insult you!"

"You did too! Remember when I showed you that dress in the store, and asked you if you thought it looked cute and you said it did?"

"Angie, yes but..."

"And then later, do you remember me showing you that shirt, with the nice blue on black Hawaiian print, so it would go with your black jeans or your blue jeans, and you could wear it in or out, and you said you liked it?"

"Yes, but..."

"And then tonight, for the party, I surprise you with that same shirt, and I have on that same dress, and you won't wear it! How is that NOT insulting me!?"

"But Angie,"

Crap, how had she gotten ME on the defensive?

"Yes, the dress is nice, and the shirt is nice, but they are the EXACT same material! We'll look like some tourist couple!"

I heard the sharp intake of breath as she sucked it in, a big gasping "AHHHHHH" and then the door snapped open and there she was under my nose, all 5'4", 120 lbs dripping wet, mad and oh great, that lower lip was quivering.

"We would not, that was mean, you take that back!"

"Angie, no one wears matching outfits like that."

"Sure they do, all the time. If you loved me you would wear it, but I guess I'm not important enough to you. Afraid of what others might say. Well fine, if that's the way you feel, I don't want to go to the party anyways. Have a nice time, see you later."

This had gone on long enough. Before she could retreat, I grabbed an ear, and held her in place. Time for me to lay down the law.

"Angie, I'm sorry I laughed, and I'm sorry I didn't want to wear the shirt. I didn't know it would mean that much to you."

She smiled at me, sure she had won her point

. "But," and her smile disappeared, "your behavior this evening was less then respectful, and I think you know that. And so before we go out, I think it's time for a little reminder about who the head of this house is, little wife."

And so saying, I put my foot up on the bed, and flopped her fussing over my leg. I flipped up the cute little mini dress till her equally cute little fanny was on display, and oh my, now that was a surprise.

"Well, well, what do we have here?"

"You weren't supposed to see those till later. I found some more of the material, and had matching panties made. You like?"

And the latter was accompanied by a lacivious wiggle and giggle. Little wench.

"Yes, I do, but consider this hairbrushing a warmup until we get home tonight and I have time to see to you properly."

Moments later she was fussing and howling and crying, but by the time we got to the party, she would be soft and happy and at peace and glowing, and oh so eager to please when we got home.

And the outfits weren't that bad, after all.

Love,
Angie