He said it was because it made the perverted things they did more taboo. Once the white frills and l
He said it was because it made the perverted things they did more taboo. Once the white frills and lace where garnishing her body, she took on a bridal persona, and that’s what he most enjoyed ravishing, and defiling. And she’d laugh and protest, and playfully bat away his hands, and he’d just get that wolfish grin on his lips, and he’d gobble her up the way only that wolfish grin could. It wasn’t just for him, though. She found that it had the same effect on her, that her innocence felt restored each time she put on the clothes, once the white was covering her from head to toe, with only the odd rogue patch of flesh showing out. It made every time feel like the first, and that first time was so good. Every night felt like a wedding night, and she’d never been married. And she got the perversion, too. She knew that it was wrong, in the way that wrong can kind of be right, or at least feel right. And she liked that. Fuck. She liked that. The way the white stockings looked on her legs just got her going, flooded her with tingles and shivers, and once she was all done up like that she’d stand there admiring herself in the mirror. At least, until he opened the door. Then she’d sink to her knees. Because she might look like a bride, but she was his toy, really. -- source link
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