It looked like a stereotypical 1950's housewife's dress, petticoat and everything except for the bra. Pearl hated bras, and she'd be damned if she was going to wear a 1950s bra. They were fine for the time period, especially considering the technology they had, but Pearl couldn't be paid to wear one. That's how much she hated them. A thin camisole was a suitable alternative.
Darren seeing loved dresses on her sometimes, and certain vintage dresses were favorites. He'd personally searched on the Internet to find shops that sold such things. He'd ordered a few of those things, and the one he picked out this day was a more casual style.
The petticoat was a bit small, not quite poofy. Short cap sleeves. Pale pink gingham check fabric. Peter Pan collar. There was even an apron with huge pockets. Long white socks on her legs and penny loafers on her feet. She was, as Darren put it, adorable.
She refused to wear makeup, though. Because work and makeup didn't mix in her mind. Plus that stuff was not only expensive, but also difficult to wash off. And she could always smell it all around herself. Makeup was definitely not everyday wear for her. At least her hair was in a cute topknot.
As Pearl swept the kitchen floor, she listened to the guitar music being played upstairs. It was a type of electric guitar. Darren had a metal side. The dogs were playing with each other outside. The air smelled like cleaning products, oddly safe. Even the dishwater made everything smell better.
She'd moved on to mopping when the music was done and Darren walked downstairs. He was careful to keep out of the way as he went to the living room. He called out, "Protein shake?!"
"Not a problem!" Pearl put the mop aside and gathered the ingredients. A few minutes later she was handing Darren a shake. He was sitting down in a recliner and watching something. He took one sip, put the cup on a little table, and then rather unceremoniously pulled Pearl's arm.
She gave a light, "Oh!" Then she was put in his lap. She snuggled with him for a while as he drank his shake. Then, when the cup was pretty much empty, she took it and said, "I need to get back to mopping."
The floor was all shiny and wet when she went back into the living room and asked Darren if he needed anything. He paused the Netflix stream and told her to get back in his lap. Her apron, skirt, and petticoat rode up a little, but that was okay. She wasn't in public, and she wasn't wearing 1950s style panties. She had on modern panties, plain blue cotton. She wasn't worried about Darren judging her, not that he was a very judgmental person in the first place.
His lips were pouting a bit. His nose was wiggling. His pale eyes seemed unnerved. His fingers on her body were tensing. "Hey, Baby?"
Her cheek a bit under his chest, Pearl asked, "What's on your mind?"
"Do you think I'm mean to you?"
She rolled her eyes and nuzzled him. "Who's the dumbass that said you were mean to me?"
"Nobody." His fingertips slipped under her bunching skirt. "I just worry. I tell you what to do a lot."
"You make the money," Pearl said. "You take care of me. As long as you're being reasonable I don't care." For example, whenever he wanted her to buy a specific thing to wear, he typically handed her the extra cash for it or ordered it himself. He never cut into her pocket money, even though he was the one who provided that.
Pearl thought that was more than fair. She thought that was sweet. "Besides," she said, "I gave you permission to own me."
"Hm?!" He gripped her tighter. "Is that what you did?"
"Lots of people wouldn't think that way, especially not women." Pearl sneakily tugged her skirts and petticoats up a little more. Well, she thought she was sneaky, but there really was no way to do that well. Petticoats can be loud. "But this makes me happy, because it's you I'm with," she said. "Nobody else gets to tell me what to do."
Darren had to kiss her then, or that's what he told her later.
It became a hot make out session. Then Pearl was carried off to the bedroom upstairs and dropped right on the bed, which made her laugh. His right hand slid up her arm, then her shoulder, then her throat. No pressure applied. He practically hid her neck with only one hand, but he didn't grip her. His eyes were in a weird state, worried but also heated. "Aren't you angry? Aren't you scared?"
Her lips formed a breezy little smile. "You wouldn't hurt me."
He bent down and put his tongue in her mouth for a while. Then he told her about something he'd like to try out.
They didn't have any fancy equipment. Everything was improvised. Well, there wasn't too much of an "everything." All Darren could find was some thick rope previously purchased from a hardware store and some duct tape. He said a thinner rope would be too dangerous. Not only that, he wanted it just loose enough for her to be able to slip her wrist out in case of an emergency.
Right behind her back. That's where her hands were tied. Right on her lips. That's where a strip of tape was placed. But Darren made sure she could breathe well through her nose.
Naked but warm.
Belly on the mattress. Her face's cheek on a pillow. Another pillow under her hips. Words that sounded like they came from the top of a mountain, but still felt as though they were right at her ear. Firm. Not quite angry, but uncompromising. He was going to have everything he wanted.
The heavy right palm, long fingernails, only so lightly drawing unseen lines down her back, Pearl trembled at the dangerous impressions.
He could mutilate her, but he wouldn't dare to leave any mark other than a hickey.
Something about that was hot.
"I don't want to hear any whining," Darren said very strictly.
Her breath puffed out her nostrils.
He squeezed one of her buttocks. She heard him adjust his position. She was sure he was kneeling. His breath was on her ass, pussy, and the space in-between. One of her legs moved to kick, but Darren held it down with his free hand. "No, no, no. Am I going to have to tie your legs up too? Or are you going to be a good girl?"
She made something like a nod and squeaked out a wriggling kind of noise.
He put a kiss on her thigh. "Alright."
Slow bliss was what Pearl felt. A hot, slick tongue gliding up her slit. Her fingers bent harshly. Little frissons danced through and around her nipples. Her eyes shut and her belly lurched.
"Hmmmmmm ... you've been taking good care of yourself, Honey. That's good." Another lick, this time with a bit of his tongue dipping between the labia and past the opening. He slurped. "You taste just like you need to."
She loved praise like that. It gave her goosebumps.
A few seconds passed on with this sort of light treatment. Then he pushed his tongue in and licked at everything he could reach. His lips were so hot. Pearl was trying not to rock her body.
His long fingernails ran down her right leg as he hummed and lapped at her. Then his mouth moved away. His left hand moved up. Two fingers pressed inside, the callused pads rubbing her G-Spot. Her toenails scratched at the carpet, and she had rather short toenails. Small noises were muffled behind the tape.
"I know it feels good, Baby."
Pearl didn't just feel the wetness cushioning his digits. She heard it too.
"And you're going to cum for me, aren't you?"
