Laura - Sex Stories

Laura

... like to try something on?" she asked, her eyes sparkling. I chose a nice fitted, green summer dress and held it up. "Yes," Laura agreed, "I think that would suit you very much but before you put it on, how about I do your hair and make up?" I agreed and she directed me to the old dresser where I sat in front of the mirror whilst she curled and styled my hair, setting it with copious amounts of lacquer. Next, she carefully applied make-up similar to her own and when she was done I looked at myself in the mirror. I was enthralled. Was this how her great aunt saw me? "You look lovely Anna. Don't you think so?" I blushed but I was happy with the reflection that gazed at me from the glass. Laura's hands were on my shoulders. "Shall we try the dress now?" I stood as she continued. "There is only me here but if you prefer you could change in the bathroom." "No," I answered her, "This will be Okay." I began to unbutton my blouse and realised that she never once turned her eyes away from my hands, watching them as they unfastened each button. I slipped the blouse from my shoulders and lay it carefully on the back of the chair by the dresser. Still, her eyes followed as I turned my skirt and unfastened and unzipped it and stepped out of it. "Oh my goodness, Anna, How beautiful!" I blushed as she spoke. Such a pretty set and suits your slim figure so well." "Thank you," I managed an embarrassed smile. As I picked up the dress, Laura stopped me. "I was just thinking. Would you like to ...

... try the whole outfit... underwear as well? Then you can get the feel for it as well as just the appearance." I noticed that her pupils were a little dilated and she was breathing heavier. I noticed because the same applied to me. "Okay," I said, "As long as you don't mind me wearing your underwear." "Oh, no, Anna. Of course I don't," she smiled, "I don't think you will contaminate them." She went to the drawer and took out a full cup brassiere which looked more like armour than underwear but, nevertheless, was still pretty. With it came a pair of baggy satin French knickers and finally a girdle that looked like a torture item with four straps hanging down to clip to the nylons which she produced from another drawer. "They are all clean," she said when she saw me watching her lay them out. The memories of what happened twelve months before were uppermost in my mind now. I was no longer with Laura the Barista, I was now with Laura Pendleton, my surreal lover. Reaching up behind I released the hooks and let the pink garment slip down my arms before placing it on the chair. I turned to pick up Laura's brassiere from the bed and realised she was standing almost against me. I stopped and looked into her eyes. They seemed glazed and just inches from my own. I couldn't help myself, I leaned forward and kissed her gently on the mouth. I expected her to jump away and protest but she didn't. She responded warmly, parting her lips and allowing my tongue to pass between them, seeking out ...