Voyeur - Lacey Alexander [21]
She couldn’t help wondering how she’d look in such a lush piece of lingerie. She owned plenty of pretty bras and panties and a baby-doll nightie or two, but she’d never worn anything that at once looked so glamorous yet sexual.
So maybe she’d just try it on.
Simply to see what she looked like.
For her own benefit—no one else’s.
The lacings were already drawn and tied in back so that just fastening a row of invisible hooks in front closed her into it. It was on the verge of being too tight, but she decided not to tamper with the ribbons as she almost liked the confined, bound feeling the snug lingerie provided. It made it impossible to forget she was wearing something designed for sex—even before she turned toward the sliding glass mirror doors on the closet.
The view stunned her. The velvet molded to her curves deliciously and plumped her breasts even farther than the red lace bra had, making them look round and voluptuous. The press of the corset against them delivered the delightfully naughty sensation that they were about to bust free. The velvet G-string felt just as snug over her pussy and trailing down the center of her ass, and the black stockings made her legs look long and lean, even without heels. She’d never seen herself appear so utterly and wholly sexual—as if she were made for this, as if no other part of her existed. She couldn’t help feeling that way, too. Like a good girl gone bad. Like a prim Victorian miss gone wild.
But the look wasn’t quite complete. On impulse, she moved to the dresser where she’d just tossed the hair clip she’d worn in the shower, using it to gather her wavy locks back up atop her head, leaving only a few loose tendrils to curve around her face.
There, she thought, peering back in the mirror. That finished the image. The perfect prim lady ready for sex. A stark contrast that was making her cunt swell within the black velvet as she stood staring, amazed at her reflection.
She drew in her breath at the vague wish that Braden could see how she looked in the corset. He’d picked it out for her, after all. He’d shown her this vision of herself she’d never have seen otherwise.
Maybe she could show him. He’d already seen all of her there was to see, and this covered more than her bra and panties had last night, so where was the sin in that?
Of course, he’d expect her to take it off. And to use the toy. She glanced at the purple vibrator, lying by itself in the box now. She couldn’t do it. She wouldn’t even know how to go about it.
Yet curious after being somewhat afraid of it all day, Laura bit her lower lip and cautiously approached the fake cock. She made herself pick it up, scolding herself internally. It’s a chunk of rubber, not a real penis, for heaven’s sake.
Unfortunately, though, holding it in her hand gave the loose sensation of holding a real penis. Which made her pussy ripple. The vibrator was of medium size, nothing humongous—six inches or so—and the head was smooth and rounded, the shaft sturdy and thick, even sporting slightly raised veins along the length. She felt torn between thinking it ridiculous and realizing that it was making her want the real thing.
She gingerly twisted the knob on the end to start the buzzing vibrations—batteries had been included. Of course, her voyeur would have arranged for that. She found herself smiling at his bold confidence.
Maybe she would experiment with it. He seemed to think every woman should have such a gadget, and she knew Monica indulged in such toys. Maybe now, in the privacy of the bedroom, she’d see what it was all about. In fact, maybe having an orgasm without Braden involved would be just as satisfying—minus all the weirdness. Then she could go to sleep, get up tomorrow morning and write, write, write, just as productively