Page 61 of The Facilitator: Part 3
“Apparently Mary thinks every office should have a box of tissues in it,” I added, shrugging my shoulders and having no idea behind her thoughts. “But, yes, very handy.” I tucked my cock back into my pants.
“Maybe I’ll go knicker shopping,” she said with a wink.
“Buy something really sexy,” I replied.
“You don’t think my undies are sexy enough? If you stopped tearing them I might not have to resort to my period pants.”
“Listen, baby, even your period pants wouldn’t stop me and you know that I love fucking you when you’re on. You’re so horny then!”
Her face colored and even after all this time together I could still shock her, something that I loved.
“Oh my God, I can’t believe you just said that.” Her eyes were wide and she tried super hard to not let the smile form. She bit down on her lower lip.
“You are, admit it,” I said, teasing.
“Yes, but that’s not the point. We’re not allowed to talk about period sex, we agreed.”
“No, you told me we weren’t allowed, but I don’t follow rules, generally. Now, go panty shopping, some of us have work to do,” I said. That earned me a slap across the chest and I laughed.
When Lauren hadher monthlies, as she called them, she was desperate for sex. In fairness, it did ease the cramps, so she told me, and who was I to deny her that relief? I chuckled at the thought and wondered, if we were going to stop the treatment for a while, how long it would take for her cycle to get back to normal.
My mood lowered then. I’d had a reply from Sam to let him know what the clinic said for the next steps, our appointment was scheduled for the following day. I was nervous, not that I’d let Lauren know that, I had a bad vibe running through me.
Chapter Sixteen
I arrived home before Lauren and took my packages to the bedroom. I opened the box and pulled out a dress. I held it up. Usually, I’d buy her full-length or at least calf-length dresses but this one should end just above her knees. I bought it for no reason other than I liked it. It reminded me of a fifties pinup dress, fitted until the skirt which was, I was reliably informed, askater flair. That meant fuck all to me, I’d said. I placed the dress on the bed and a new pair of shoes to match beside it. I admired the outfit and knew that the red dress would suit Lauren. It had a V front with short sleeves and abeltthat tied in a bow to the side.
I’d bought classic black patent leather Louboutins. Lauren probably owned enough of those shoes to open a museum, but she didn’t have patent black. I made apoint of checking, of course. She had every color they offered; she liked her shoes, for sure.
Last, I rifled through her underwear. I found some crotchless panties that still had a tag and a matching bra that was an abuse of the word. It was a scrap of material that, I imagined, sat under her breasts. I chuckled as I laid them on the bed as well. I was also very aware that if Lauren didn’t like them, she wouldn’t wear them. I was rarely wrong in my choices, however.
I headed for a shower and then dressed in pants and a shirt.
When Lauren returned from work, I led her to the bedroom. “Oh, Mackenzie, that’s gorgeous,” she said, picking up the dress. “And the shoes!” She hugged one to her chest and laughed.
“And the rest?” I asked.
She picked up the scrap of material that called itself a bra. “I’ve been waiting for an occasion to wear this,” she said. “I’m guessing that’s tonight?”
I nodded. “I’m guessing so, as well. I’ll let you get ready,” I said.
An hour later, Lauren walked into the kitchen and I wanted to whistle. She had pinned up her hair and looked amazing. I smiled as I walked toward her.
“Jesus, you are stunning,” I said, and I handed her a glass of chilled wine.
She took the wine and did a slow twirl, I did whistle then. “I love the dress,” she said, laughing.
Her tanned and toned legs looked endless. It was an illusion considering she wasn’t tall, but the expanse of bare skin was arousing. I wanted to lick the back of her knees, run my tongue over her thighs.
“Erm,” Lauren said, bringing my gaze back to her face. She smirked at me.
“You can’t blame me,” I said, chuckling. We clinked our glasses and sipped on our wine.
Fifteen minutes later, we were off.
“Black, red, or silver?” I asked.
“Oh, the choices,” she said, placing her finger to her lips. “Black.”
