"Oh, thank god you're here," she mutters, as I open the pantry door seeking pretzels, and find her standing there instead.
"What? Are you ok?" I ask, as she grabs my arm and pulls me into the tiny space.
"No!" she whispers. "Shh...close the door and help me before someone sees." I pull the door shut behind me, blocking the two of us into the tiny pantry, about a foot apart. She looks a little frazzled, and her fancy Kentucky Derby hat has been shoved onto a shelf with the boxes of pasta and cereal.
"What's the problem?" I ask. "Out of bourbon?" She smirks and shakes her head.
"Nothing that terrible, thankfully. But...my dress is stuck." I laugh.
"I'm sorry, what?"
She rolls her eyes, steps toward me, and is immediately yanked backward toward the shelf.
"My. Dress. Is. Stuck," she repeats. "Can you please help? I don't want to tear it."
Oh. Well, shit.
I shuffle closer to her, so I can peer over her shoulder to find the issue. She tilts her head and sweeps her hair to one side, to give me a better view. The scent of roses wafts up from the exposed skin of her neck and shoulder, and I close my eyes and go dizzy for the briefest moment, breathing her in. Instantly, all of my senses go into overdrive.
I lean over her shoulder to look behind her, but we're blocking most of the light. I find myself pressing against her, trying to improve my view, but there is very little room to maneuver. She has to arch toward me so I don't jam her against the shelves. I can feel her warmth and my cock twitches with interest in this unusual position.
"I can't see," I tell her. "Here, what if I--" I shift, stepping so my right leg is between hers, and moving my right arm around her back. She clutches my shoulders and gasps as my thigh nudges upwards between her legs. I steady her with my left hand on her hip, while my right hand encounters the warm, bare skin of her lower back. Her floaty little party dress is mostly backless, held up by a few thin criss-crossing straps. I can definitely feel myself getting hard now.
She shivers as I slide my hand up her spine, seeking the straps which are likely the problem, and when I look back to her face, she's biting her lip. Her breasts are pressing against my chest, and I can feel the points of her nipples through the thin fabric. I adjust my stance slightly, rubbing my thigh directly against her crotch. I swear she bites back a moan.