bikinikelly

"So, uh, w-what do you think?" Elle assumed Warren would immediately tell her that he thought the outfit was far too much, and to go and change immediately into something that didn't center her heavy tits so dramatically or show her wide pink nipples straight through the sheer lavender fabric. Honestly, she didn't even know why she'd put it on in the first place, or why she went to her husband for approval instead of simply recognizing that the dress was far too slutty to ever be seen in out in public… but something about it had called to her, and she felt like she had to at least see what Warren thought. His approval was--it was very important to her.

And sometimes surprising. "I think it looks lovely, darling," he drawled, running his hands down the silky fabric to leave them resting possessively on her chest. "You're going to be the envy of every woman in the room… and I'm going to be the envy of every man." Despite her continuing anxiety over her appearance, Elle couldn't stop herself from squirming into her husband's touch--the honeymoon had ended only a few weeks ago, and Elle still had the enthusiasm of a blushing bride when it came to sex. And the enthusiasm of a whole new relationship, she admitted to herself; their whirlwind courtship had lasted all of a dizzying three weeks before she wound up eloping with Warren, and the way he caressed her still felt intoxicatingly new.

His other hand went to her other breast, groping and pinching her pendulous tits and stiffening nipples through the thin fabric, and even though Elle's bright blue eyes were beginning to cloud over she still heard herself ask, "Y-you don't think it's, um… too much?" It felt strange, questioning her husband's decisions, and it felt even stranger that it felt strange in the first place--Elle hadn't expected herself to fall into such immediate and automatic deference to Warren, but somehow even as far back as the first date he had a knack for getting her to go along with him. It felt almost like a kind of… a kind of hyp, hypno, hypnos… hypnos…. God, did he know just how to play with her big cow titties. It drove every other thought clean out of her head.

Warren's condescending chuckle brought her back to reality, and Elle blinked in befuddled confusion as he said, "Of course it's too much, darling. It's going to make you look like a total slut. But that's what you are, aren't you, honey? You're my dumb big-titted slut." Elle's brow furrowed as she tried to parse out the complicated emotional nuances of his statement; she felt certain that being called a dumb big-titted slut by her own husband was a bad thing, and yet his voice was so full of affection and praise and charm that he made it sound like the most wonderful idea in the world. And his fingers kept teasing Elle's nipples the whole time, suffusing all her thoughts with an all-too-familiar ecstasy that made her feel drugged and… and dopey and s-suggestible….

"I'm your dumb, big-titted slut," she heard herself reply, her voice drained of all volition, and she sighed gently as the warmth of compliance seeped into her mind and smoothed away all her worries. Warren loved her. He loved for her body and for her brain. And if he wanted the world to see her as his slutty, ditzy arm candy then that would be just fine. Elle brushed aside her skirt with a vacant smile, happy to show the man she loved that underneath her latest outfit she wasn't wearing anything at all.