I ask you to dress me for our date night, which outfit of mine would you pick?
Locs piled high up on her head and a silk pink robe covering her naked body, Michonne ruffled through her stash clothes in the large walk-in closet she shared with her husband. They'd been swamped by work and the kids for months. But she and Rick were finally resuming their Saturday date nights. Dinner at a chic Greek restaurant then drinks and dancing at a new-age speakeasy in downtown Atlanta.
Their expectations were incredibly high and Michonne was eager to make the night as perfect as possible. But as she searched through her clothes completely unsatisfied with what she saw, her excitement turned into frustration. None of the garments she came across seemed like a good fit for the evening's festivities. Too risque for the restaurant, too demure for the club, finding a good balance felt impossible.
She picked a slim fitting red dress that fell below the knee off the rack. Hearing her husband poking around in their en-suite bathroom, she called out to him. "Rick! Can you come here a minute?"
He appeared in seconds, making her mouth water at the sight of him barefoot, clad only in a pair of unbuttoned dark dress pants. "Yeah, baby?"
She held the dress up to her body, giving him a hopeful look. "What do you think?"
Rick tilted his head to the side, his blue eyes raking up and down her body. "Don't you wear that to work?"
Michonne rolled her eyes, huffing as she shoved the dress back in its place in the closet. "I don't know what to wear," the whine she let out was nearly childish.
Her husband chuckled. "All these damn clothes and you don't know what to wear?"
"It's easier for you," she said. "You have four nice shirts, it's not like you have to put much thought into dressing up when we go out."
"And you've got an endless amount of choices. It shouldn't be that hard."
Michonne narrowed her eyes at his comment. "Okay, smartass, since it's so easy, you choose. Let's say I ask you to dress me for our date night, which outfit of mine would you pick?"
She watched as Rick stalked closer to her side of the closet, the muscles in his chest and shoulders stretching and bunching deliciously. Michonne never got tired of admiring her husband's impressive form. He was raw, and open, and masculine in a way that almost made her want to abandon their plans to spend the night in bed with him instead - almost.
"Hmmm," instead of ruffling through the clothes like she had done, Rick came up behind her, his large, warm hands on her waist. "I think I want you in somethin' sexy."
Rick's thick drawl echoed in her ear as his hands strayed from her waist to the tie holding her dark robe together. Deftly, he pulled one end of tied bow, making her release a small gasp. Her nipples pebbled as they were exposed to the chilled air. Her husband's hands roamed her skin, moving from her waist and up her sides. He ran a roughened finger along her protruding collar bones before it traced along the tops of her breasts.
"You know how much I love these," he said, his light touches making her shiver. "Wear somethin' that lets me get a peek at them all night." Both of his hands were touching her now, his light touches becoming firm as he cupped her tits, thumbs rubbing her dark, pebbled nipples. "Don't show off everythang though, I don't want anybody seein' too much of what's mine."
Michonne laid her head back on his shoulder, silently prompting him to run his nose and lips along her slim neck. "How about I wear a bodysuit," she said softly. "That red one you like with the flowy sleeves that plunges in the front."
Rick made a noise of approval as his hands descended down her body again. She missed the feeling of him touching his nipples, but she hoped his next destination would be even more delicious.
"If you wear a bodysuit, you don't need to wear any panties." His fingers danced along the very top of her mons, right along the line her panties should have started.
"I didn't know that was the rule," she laughed.
"Absolutely. You won't need a bra or panties with the outfit I have planned," the fingers moved again, right through the strip of curls she kept trimmed above her slit. "You should be happy about that, less to take off later."
Both of them moaned when his digits finally dipped between her pussy lips. Michonne's teeth chattered as he circled her pulsing little clit before collecting a bit of her honey from her entrance to wet her up further. She widened her stance and Rick wrapped an arm around her waist, clutching him to her to keep her from collapsing.
"That does sound good," she said, the sight of his fingers playing in her pussy spurring her on even more. "But what am I going to wear on the bottom? I can't just walk around in a bodysuit."
"A skirt," Rick growled, the finality in his town had her biting down on his bottom lip. "That short leather one you have that shows off your long, pretty legs and cups your ass."
"And heels?" Michonne moaned out the question as he thrusted two thick fingers into her.
"And heels," Rick clarified.
The wet, sloshing sound of her pussy filled the large space. She could feel the hard bulge of his dick pressing up against her ass, strong and insistent, but she could focus on nothing but chasing her own orgasm.
"Now hurry up and come all over my fingers. The sooner we leave, the sooner I can fuck you in that bodysuit and heels when we get home."
Seconds later, she tumbled over the edge. Clenching and gushing around his fingers as the promise of what was to come settled in her tightly coiled belly.