England's Dreaming by Justine Elyot

Author:Justine Elyot [Elyot, Justine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Totally Bound Publishing
Published: 2012-05-22T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Five

“How about this first?”

Ciaran picked up a tiny scrap of scarlet latex with a studded hem and neckline.

“I’m…not sure it’s really me, darling. Are you serious about this?”

“C’mon, it’ll be a laugh. And no one’ll recognise you if you get on the News at Ten.”

“The News at Ten! Why would I…?”

“This is gonna be big, Em, this boat trip. It’ll go down in history, just like the Jubilee itself, hand in hand with it. Now get that dog’s breakfast of a dress off and try some of this gear.”

Emily looked down at her once-cream dress in dismay. She had had more soignée days, it was true. But to be seen in public dressed like a kinky prostitute…was that much better?

“Or will I take it off for you?” whispered Ciaran, his hands on her hips, his lips at her forehead.

“Ciaran…”

But his fingers were already at her buttons, opening them over her bra and her upper torso, which were still sweaty from al fresco sex. The dress swished down to the floor, over her knickers and her dusty legs.

“Thing about this yoke,” said Ciaran, holding up the dress so that it rippled and reflected the light of its shiny surface, “is that it doesn’t look quite right with underwear. You ever worn rubber yourself? Ever noticed that?”

Emily snorted. “I must admit, I haven’t.”

“Take my word for it.” He lowered her bra straps over her shoulders, kissing each side of her neck as he unclipped the garment behind. “Sure, you don’t need to wear a bra anyway. Look at these.”

He held her breasts in his hands, his smile gleaming down at them.

“I’m still not wearing that thing.”

“Ah, come on now. You’ll make my day.”

“I hoped I’d already done that, actually.”

“Is there a law against making a person’s day twice?”

She squirmed in his hands, wanting to resist him, but feeling her will to do so whittled away by each wheedling remark.

“Now, what about these?”

He turned his attention to her knickers.

“I’m not going about knickerless in the street!” she insisted.

“Why not?”

“It’s…indecent.”

“And shagging at a street party isn’t, eh?”

“That’s different. I got carried away.”

“You sure did. You’ll get carried away again if I’ve anything to do with it. And I hope I have. C’mon.” He wrapped his arms around her, pressing his semi-hardness into her knickers.

To be honest, they weren’t feeling too comfortable at this point. She’d wiped most of the spunk from earlier—that which hadn’t manifested on her dress—off with her handkerchief, but, all the same, the gusset’s clammy coldness gave away the post-sex state of her genitals. It would be a relief to get rid of them.

But surely they could be replaced.

“Take them off if you must,” she conceded. “But isn’t there something else I could wear? I can’t wear that dress with no knickers. I won’t be able to bend or anything.”

“There’s always this.”

Emily yelped in alarm as Ciaran held up a black leather skirt with the intriguing feature of nothing at the back to cover her bum but a wide buckled strap.

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