antiprincess

This journal entry is autobiographical and rated R for strong sexual content.

Do you remember that day, at Macy's? You joined me for lingerie shopping. I know it wasn't your first choice of activities, but you joined me with no complaints. And I even found some cute things. Expensive things, but cute. So I decided to try them on. And the fitting room attendant let you join me. Do you remember? And we choose that last stall, in the corner. And I tried on the articles I had picked out, and you couldn't keep your hands off me, and it was so hot. And even though you swore it would never happen, that you'd never be okay with something like that, you bent me over and fucked me while I braced myself on the full length mirror. You fucked me in a lacy bustier that I didn't own and never bought. It was short and sweet and so amazingly sexy. And then I got dressed, and we left the dressing room, probably not looking nearly as innocent as we were trying to look. And you bought me a pair of panties, which serve as happy reminder of that day.

The memory leaves me feeling bittersweet and wistful. When did we lose that?