Tuesday morning I awoke from dreams of gym locker rooms and sweaty abs to find myself naked, sticky, and incredibly well rested. Mark had snuck out to work over an hour ago, and once again I found a simple yet elegant card on his pillow, which read "just say yes". This time the words were in a deep crimson.
I replayed yesterday's events as I prepared a cup of coffee, enjoying the cool morning air on my naked skin. I missed Mark, last night's session still fresh in my mind (and on my body), and I texted him a quick picture of my tits to brighten his morning.
"Wow!" The response was quick, which brought a smile to my face. "How'd you sleep?"
"So good," I texted back.
"Good. I laid out your clothes for you this morning."
I went back to the bedroom, curious. This was not a usual routine for us, and I was intrigued to see what he had picked out for me, and why. The why became apparent when I saw the fabric on the bed- there wasn't much of it.
"Mark, I volunteer today! I can't wear this!" I texted.
"Just say yes!" he replied with a winking emoji.
He had laid out a white dress that, to be fair, I did often wear to the same church where I was volunteering this afternoon. However, as he knew, the reason I wore it on Sundays was that it was slightly see-through, and he and I delighted in catching church-goers staring. Something about the contrast of such a self-righteous setting always made me flirty, and Sunday afternoons were often our best fucks. Most Sundays found me in a simple dress with an outrageously slutty set of lingerie underneath, or occasionally in a dress that pushed the boundary just slightly but with a simple white bra and panties underneath.
The dress itself wasn't slutty as long as I wore simple underwear or a slip underneath, but laid out next to it was a strappy bright red bodysuit that was not likely to stay completely hidden under the white fabric. I put the bodysuit on and checked out my reflection in the mirror.
I had to say, this lingerie did make my body look fantastic. My tits were lifted slightly and presented beautifully. I already had a good pair of C-cups with nipples that Mark seemed to love, but in this teddy they looked like Hollywood double D's. The lingerie also highlighted my ass nicely, cut to show a good portion of my skin but to also keep it tight and firm. I went to the gym often, so I didn't need a ton of help in that department, but in this outfit I looked like a high-end model.
I enjoyed looking this good, whether it was for myself or for Mark, but the only times I had worn this to church were underneath dark (okay, yes, maybe skintight) dresses. Today as I threw the white dress over my head, I felt sexy as fuck. As I checked out my reflection, I realized that I had maybe overreacted a bit internally; the dress was not as transparent as I had thought. If I stared hard I could make out the lacy red underneath, but I didn't look like a slut or anything. I bent over and found that the backside showed a bit more, but again only if someone was directly looking. I buttoned up the dress and picked out some sensible heels (thankfully, Mark had neglected the footwear like a typical man, otherwise he probably would have had me in six-inch stripper heels) and sent him a picture from the full-length mirror.
"Not as bad as I thought," I sent.
He sent back a heart-eyed smiley and texted "unbutton one button."
I rolled my eyes and unbuttoned the top button, showing my neck but nothing more, sent him one more quick pic and headed to my car. The drive to the church was uneventful, and the parking lot was mostly empty. Tuesdays I helped out in the office, mostly printing and folding, for just a few hours each week. I had the time and it felt good to give back at least a little. Plus, the new associate pastor (that was what they called the young ones just out of pastor college) was single and cute in a nerdy kind of way. His car was in the lot, and as I swung the office door open he jumped a little.
It was cute watching him try not to stare at my tits, and I decided I might have a little fun teasing him this morning. As if on cue, Mark texted me again. "Button #2."
This dress had six buttons, from my neck down to almost my belly button, and I realized that this might be a problem. I smiled at the young man in front of me and headed to the restroom to text Mark.
"What are you doing?!" I typed. "This poor kid is going to have a heart attack!" I sent Mark a picture of my second button undone, still nothing risque yet.
"Haha is Jacob there?" he replied. "You know he likes to sneak looks at you already."
"No..." I lied unconvincingly. Of course I knew that the young clergyman peeked when he thought he could get away with it, but I didn't know that Mark knew.
"This morning you're going to give him a little show." I was going to protest, and Mark must have known that because the next text was simple. "Just say yes."
This damn game was going to get me arrested. In the meantime, however, I straightened out my dress and marched back into the office, determined to get my work done as fast as possible today. The time passed quickly, and Jacob and I talked about the weekend, sports (I didn't know a lot, but Mark and I did watch football most weekends and most boys were surprised to find a woman who knew the difference between a touchdown and a field goal), and all sorts of innocent topics while we clicked away at our respective keyboards. He stole the occasional glance over at my legs, and each time he wasn't looking I pulled the hem just a bit higher. I loved the game of distracting men, and he was an easy target. I wondered idly if he had ever licked a woman, and my phone vibrated.
"Button #3."
