Carole S Colourful Dress

Carole peered through the glass door of the supermarket freezer cabinet. Family size chocolate gateau was on special offer, and would probably be nice and squelchy, but brown wasn't the colour she wanted. She glanced at the items already in her shopping trolley - tomato soup (orange), custard (yellow), mushy peas (green). Red and blue were conspicuous by their absence, and if she wanted the full rainbow then she also needed indigo (whatever colour that was) and violet.

She paused to consider the flimsy white cotton dress hanging in her wardrobe. A recent find in a charity shop it carried more than its fair share of fussy details, frills and lace trimmings. It had also been worn and washed enough times to make the fabric soft and thin -- close to holes in places. It wouldn't stand much more wearing, but it was perfect for today's purpose.

She pulled open the door of the freezer cabinet and reached for a large strawberry gateau with real fruit on the top. That would make a good red colour when it was squelched up. As she grabbed it she noticed frozen blackberries on an adjacent shelf and stopped still. Blackberries! Of course, blackberries make a purple(ish) stain. She plopped the gateau in the trolley and hurried back to the fruit and veg aisle.

"One punnet of blackberries," she muttered as she hunted for one with signs of mushy over-ripeness. "Just need indigo and blue now." She scratched her head. Was indigo a kind of pink colour? It could be couldn't it? She ambled over to the fridges and collected a big tub of strawberry yogurt. Just blue to find now.

Carole pursed her lips and looked back at the fruit and veg aisle. Mashed potato was nice and squelchy, but it wasn't blue. She frowned. Maybe it could be blue if you coloured it? She drew herself up tall, picked up a bag of potatoes, and headed off to the baking aisle to look for a bottle of blue food colouring.

Back home an hour later, and with the frozen gateau sitting on the draining board to thaw, Carole poured herself a glass of wine and took it into her bedroom. She opened her wardrobe and took out the dress. Washed with bleach and carefully ironed, it looked pristine and virginal. She closed the wardrobe door and hung it on the handle.

She opened her underwear drawer and thumbed down the stack of neatly folded knickers. She pulled out a pair from near the bottom and smoothed them flat on the dressing table top. White silk with embroidered flowers on the front, worn and washed many times. Her fingers drew one of the side seams taut. The fabric was thinning and the stitching threatened to pull out, but this exquisite little garment was far too fine to put in the period pants pile.

Finally she pulled out a white bra. Its lightly padded satin cups overlaid with lace had offered so much style when she chose it, but somehow it never fitted quite right. But on the plus side, it did give her impressive cleavage the last time she tried it on.

She laid the bra on her dressing table with the knickers and took a sip of her wine. She closed her eyes and concentrated on slowing her breathing to try and calm her pounding heart. She'd anticipated this for weeks and needed to savour it.

Drawing a deep breath Carole pulled her tee-shirt over her head, unclasped her bra, and tossed them both into the laundry hamper. In one fluid movement she pushed down her jeans and knickers and tossed them on top of the tee-shirt and bra without bothering to disentangle them from each other.

In her nakedness she stepped onto the fluffy rug in front of the dressing table. She picked up her wine glass, drained it, and set it back on the dressing table.

With outstretched fingers she scooped up her unruly hair and twisted it behind her head to make a messy bun, which she fastened in place with a big grip. She looked from the bra and knickers on the dressing table top, to the dress hanging on the wardrobe door, and swallowed. It was time to get dressed.

She picked up the silk knickers and stepped into them. They caressed her thighs as she slid them up into place and adjusted the front bow to sit neatly under her bellybutton. She smoothed them taut across her bum and pinged the elastic. They'd definitely lost their original lustre, but for today they'd be perfect.

She pulled the bra around her, did up the clasp behind her back, and squeezed her boobs into the cups. They bulged in grand style, and would probably fall out if she was too active. But again - perfect for today.

Finally she slipped the dress off its hanger and stepped into it. As she zipped it up she turned to look in the long mirror. It certainly wasn't a modern look, with frills and lace running in vertical layers down the front of the corset style bodice; but she smiled at the way her cleavage was framed by the sweetheart neckline. She ran her fingers along the bottom edge of the bodice where it came to a point in the centre front. And with her fingernails she picked at the gathered skirts.

The bleached white dress looked dazzling against her olive skin and black hair; and gave her a classic hourglass figure she wasn't used to seeing. She twirled her hips to the left, and to the right, watching her reflection as the skirts swished from side to side. She stilled, and stood for a moment with half-closed eyes to chew her lip. Finally, she nodded to her reflection, turned on her heel and strutted out to the kitchen.

In the kitchen Carole prodded the gateau experimentally. The frost had gone off the top, but it was still very cold. She'd give it a few more minutes. She peeled six potatoes, cut them into small pieces and set them to boil. Once they were bubbling nicely she turned the heat down to a simmer and began her preparation.

From the end cupboard she collected a polythene sheet. Designed to protect furniture whilst rooms were decorated, it was large enough to protect the whole of the bathroom floor as well as cover up the toilet and fold over the edge of the bath.

Back in the kitchen she fetched out the three big plastic jugs her mother bequeathed her. She unloaded her shopping bag and filled one jug with cold tomato soup, another with custard, and the third with mushy peas. She opened the big tub of strawberry yogurt, and the punnet of blackberries. She mashed the potatoes, adding plenty of water along with the blue colouring to make sure the mixture was nicely sloppy.

Finally she carried all her trophies into bathroom and set them down in a neat row beside the bath. She took a deep breath. She had reached the point of no return.

Carole reached under the skirts of her dress to slide her knickers down to her knees. She broke the gateau into quarters, and laid one piece strawberry side down in the front of the knickers. The remaining pieces she arranged in the back, the first strawberry side down, the second strawberry side up, and the last one scrunched up and laid in the gusset. She pulled the knickers up firmly and smoothed them into place with her messy hands. The old elastic struggled to cope with the weight, but the cool strawberry filling oozed all around her most intimate parts; and the red hand marks wiped over the snowy white silk made a dramatic contrast. She laid the skirts of the dress down over the knickers and stepped carefully into the bath.

Once in the bath, she first knelt, and then sat down on her heels. She reached for the jug of tomato soup, and poured its contents over the bodice of the dress. She watched the bright orange liquid flow down over her tits and make a pool in her lap. Once it had finished flowing she reached for the custard. This time she pulled the sweetheart neck away from her chest and poured the gloopy yellow liquid straight down her cleavage. She closed her eyes to savour the feeling as it flowed sluggishly through and around her bra and joined the gateau in her knickers.

She laid the custard jug down and picked up the mushy peas. She took handfuls of the green goo smearing it first on her face, and then down her sides to coat the remaining white parts of the bodice. Next the blue mashed potato. She lifted the skirts of the dress and leaned forward enough to tuck big handfuls of the hot mash under her bum and sit down in it. She wriggled about to feel the heat of the potato as it squeezed out around her hips.

Now the momentum of the moment was in full swing. She tugged the skirts back down over her legs and upended the strawberry yogurt over her left thigh; before massaging it vigorously into the fabric of the dress wherever she could see any white remaining. Finally she reached for the blackberries, and taking them in two big handfuls she crushed and rubbed them into her chest.

Her messy ammunition exhausted, Carole came to a halt. She looked down at herself all multicoloured and slimy. Quite artfully pretty in a messy sort of way. Her chest heaved with each big intake of breath. Slowly, she knelt up and took a firm hold of the skirts of the dress over each of her hips. She held her breath for a moment of stillness, and then pulled firmly downwards with both hands.

The thin fabric of the dress, weakened by years of wear and laundry, burst apart both sides with a delicious ripping sound. Delighted, Carole changed her grip. Grabbing hold of the sweetheart neck, one side in each hand, she pulled vigorously in opposite directions. The bodice ripped apart right down the front leaving the remnants of the slimy dress hanging in rags from her shoulders. She looked down on her bulging tits in their soggy bra. Her eyes moved on down her body and she swiped away a mound of slime from between her thighs to reveal the silk knickers slicked to her groin.

She tucked her thumbs into the waistband of the knickers and twisted, pushing her thumbnails through the degraded fabric and pulling in opposite directions. The knickers ripped apart to reveal her fanny, and she plunged her finger in to rub vigorously on her clit.

Reaching climax took only a few seconds, but the waves went on, and on, and on. Finally, when her body regained its equilibrium and her breathing returned to normal, she kicked her legs out in front of her and lay back among the debris. Exhausted, but beautifully relaxed.

Idly, she fingered the torn edges of the bedraggled rags that hung from her shoulders. A big smile crept onto her face.

"That," she whispered, "is one helluva way to use up a dress that's gone out of fashion!"