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The Dressing Room

“You asked for it you little cum slut,” he growled in my ear, pulling me back by the hair, pushing himself hard into me.

He was right. No doubt. Once again I had brought it all on myself.

It started innocently enough. Dress shopping. I am sitting on the fundraising committee for the symphony. Chair this year actually, and he is quite proud of me. But it has been a lot of work. Our final event of the season is coming up soon and I need the perfect dress since I will be recognized. I know that how I present myself at these events is a direct reflection on him so I do try hard. So he agreed to go dress shopping with me to pick the perfect dress.

We were in a little upscale boutique downtown with a few dresses to try on when I picked up a slinky little number, something I would never wear. Black silk cut down to the belly button with a few rhinestones and a slit almost to the hip. Very sexy. Very revealing. I held it in front of me and sashayed in front of him provocatively, teasing.

“What do you think?” I asked with a grin.

He frowned.

“Oh, come on,” I said moving to him, tilting my head up towards him bringing my lips dangerously close to his hear, purring in a sultry voice. “You don’t want the world to see what a little slut your wife can be?”

It was a game. A game just meant to turn him on. I wanted him ready when we got home. But I tend to forget that I don’t always get to set the rules with him.

He motioned for the sales girl to open the fitting room. I turned to walk in the fitting room as she turned to walk away, not expecting him to slip in behind me.

“You can’t be in here,” I whispered loudly at him, pushing him back towards the door, smiling at the thought.

“Like hell I can’t,” he hissed, spinning me around, pushing me forward. He caught me by the hair and held me there while I put out both hands, holding myself palms flat to the mirror. I knew not to move once he put me there. He released my hair and pushed my skirt up with one hand while pulling his zipper down with the other, freeing his hard cock. His fingers slipped inside my panties, pushing them aside, sliding just inside my pussy.

“Wet cunt,” he said. “Figures. Dirty little slut like you always has a wet cunt.” The words always turn me on when he says them and I squirmed against his fingers. I knew we didn’t have time. They would expect us out shortly. It would be hard and fast and it just made me wetter.

His cock head went to my pussy and pushed slightly… only slight resistance because I was so wet. I had spread my legs for him, lifting one on the chair to the side waiting for him to enter me. Just the head of his cock was in me. I wanted to rock back against him. Feel him inside of me. But I knew better. It was his. He controlled it. I waited.

One hand went around my waist, the other hand went to my hair, jerking me back to him hard as his cock slammed into me hard. “You asked for it you little cum slut,” he growled in my hear. His teeth locked on my earlobe. Fuck, the searing pain, the pleasure, his hand around my waist moving up, pulling at my buttons, freeing my breasts, tugging hard at my nipples. I wanted to cry out but I knew I couldn’t without attracting attention. Without drawing his wrath. He knew I couldn’t so he squeezed them harder making me want to scream louder.

“That’s it cunt, take my cock,” he said, pushing me back forward. I put both palms back flat to the mirror and his hands went to my hips, holding me so he could drive into me hard and fast. My breasts were swinging free with each thrust. Fuck, I could feel him hitting bottom, making me want to cum fast. But it wasn’t about me. I wanted to close my eyes and feel but I couldn’t. I watched in the three-way mirror. Watched him watching. His eyes locked on mine. The lust. The passion. The desire. He looked like a wild animal taking me like that. I could see it building. No stretching it out, no taking it to the edge and pulling back, just hard and fast fucking for his pleasure and the thought made me hotter. Using my cunt. Fuck.

Knock knock knock on the door.

“Everything ok in there?”

He pushed deep into me and pulled me up by the hair, glaring at me.

I reached over and grabbed one of the dresses. The red one. I leaned backwards over him, just two perfect tastefully short French manicured fingers and a hanger over the top of the door.

“This one doesn’t quite fit. Could you be a dear and bring it to me in a smaller size?” I asked in a syrupy sweet and half breathless voice. “Just hang it on the door when you come back.”

“Good girl,” he growled in my ear, pushing me back to the mirror, making me watch as he started back fucking me hard and fast like nothing ever happened. His hands were on my hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of my stomach right beside my hip bones. He was pounding away, faster, harder. I braced myself, stiffening my elbows to keep my head from hitting the mirror.

“Fucking cunt,” he growled. I hoped nobody outside the door could hear. “My filthy little cum slut…. you want this don’t you?”

I looked up at his eyes in the mirror. He wanted an answer.

“Yes sir,” I whispered.

“Then tell me.”

I swallowed hard. So hard to admit. Fuck. But I didn’t want him to stop.

“I want your cum. Please….. make me your cum slut…” I whispered. I was so close…

I felt him stiffen. The thrust. The pause. The little spasm. Fuck, I knew his orgasm anywhere even if it was almost silent, just the tiny grunt as he suppressed the groan that I knew so well. Then the gush of hot sticky cum. Fuck. I thrust my hand between my legs to my clit and touched, rubbed, just barely 30 seconds maybe and I was there, head back, back arched, whimpering and biting my lip, the whole time him holding my hair threatening me silently if I called out in pleasure.

We straightened and smoothed as best we could and walked out without a word.

“Find one you like?” the sales girl asked, pretending not to notice he was coming out of the fitting room with me. I suppose money does have its privilege.

“This one,” he said, selecting the slutty black silk number that had started it all. “I believe she will be wearing it for dinner for me tonight,” he said with a smile.

“Are you ok, Mrs. X,?” she asked turning to me. “You look really flushed. Why don’t you come here and sit down for a minute?”

I lowered my eyes and smiled slightly as he put two fingers and a thumb on my arm slightly above my elbow in a possessive gesture that probably nobody else would ever notice, keeping me close by his side with love, not force. “She’s fine,” he responded. “Just tired. She gives so much of herself these days. Maybe I’ll take her home and get her in bed early.”

I couldn’t help but smile feeling his cum running out of my pussy, soaking my panties, waiting for him to pay for that dress that I would wear to serve his dinner later that evening.

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