When she asks me to pick out her clothes for her, I relish the opportunity to provide for her. It's not about actively dominating her, it's about actively making the decisions that enhance her life.
Decisions she was already probably going to make but that you have taken away the stress of making and not only that, you've taken on the responsibility of challenging those decisions with new wrinkles that she may not have otherwise pushed herself to try.
Some days are for putting her in cute and colorful panties underneath a casual shirt and leggings if she's out feeling silly with friends.
Some days are for cotton panties and soft short shorts and one of my shirts because it's only a matter of time before I spank that behind today if she keeps walking into the room and wagging it in my face and giggling like that as I read before scurrying away.
Some days it's time to put on stockings and seamless slips and grab one of her flattering dresses and the earrings I got her because she has to go straight from work to a fancy dinner.
Some days I am a mischievous man who leaves out a butt plug and cheeky panties with her work attire when she has a short shift.
Some days are for period panties, sweatpants and my old hoodie that she has slowly made a nest in, along with midol and back rubs.
Some days I add a little ropework to spice up her day at home in pajamas because she loves the feel of my ropes and I wish I didn't have to work that day so I could be with her.
Some days are for putting her in clothes we don't care if she mucks up and a sports bra and bandana because we have a lot of cleaning to do.
Some days she goes commando under my direction and I'll hand her a pair of jeans and a tshirt and tshirt bra because I know how the inseam arouses her and we want to jump each other's bones later that night after meeting with family and the anticipation is killing us.
Some days are for the panties that have shrunk and the shirt and leggings developing tears in them and the bra that's now too loose because she wants to see me give these clothes one last hurrah and rip and tear through them later like a man possessed by her beauty.
Some days I give her an oversized shirt because it's so hot in our house we'd go naked anyways but she wants to cook bacon for breakfast and I want to protect her body from grease spatters. Seeing her cute butt peek out at me occasionally is a plus too.
Some days clothes are unnecessary and we need to feel each other's skin, cuddle, and recharge from a long week.
Some days I grab her some shorts and a tshirt and we spend a lazy sunday gaming and watching movies.
Some days are for fishnets, corset, strappy thong, and bra, and heels under an overcoat because it makes her so hot to be escorted to a hotel room so scantily clad, but it's our little secret.
Some days she finds I've laid out her panties and bra in gameday colors with her team jersey and leggings and she's relieved because her favorite sports team plays better if she sits in that spot, cooks a certain food, and wears certain things and she doesn't want to test her superstitions.
But most importantly some days I need to back off and let her dress herself and let her remind herself that she does have independence from me even if she chooses to relinquish this responsibility on a regular basis. That even if I wasn't here with her she could still function, and it's because she likes for me to choose these things for her that she consents to them in the first place. There's nothing more beautiful than being chosen by someone to provide for them.
2087
blakekathryn
origamiaround
snowghoul
turnnoffyourmind
discoholicmusic
romaincrisis
titsay
theartofmadeline
stormborns
kaledo-art
