Fucking picturesque.

That's how everyone describes my hometown. I see it, I guess. Especially in the winter. Mountains, evergreens, snow. Everyone trying to outdo each other in their curated outfits.

I walked from the coffee shop to the fire pit in the middle of the shopping district. There were hardly any people around - the week after the holidays was always dead. The fire was roaring, orange flames meeting cold air in wisps of steam. I felt a hand on my upper arm.

I turned around and couldn't help myself. "No fucking way!"

"I thought that was you," he said, smiling.

I hugged him, holding my drink out, careful not to spill it on him. "Are you back? Or do you still..."

"Oh, fuck no. I'm just back for the holidays. My flight got cancelled. My whole family flew out yesterday, so I have the house to myself." He looked me up and down, assessing as much as he could through my heavy winter coat and boots. "You?" He asked.

"Pretty much the same. I leave tomorrow." I noticed the bag he was carrying. "What'd you buy?"

He looked down. "Oh, I'm actually returning something. It, um, doesn't fit." He paused. "Are you busy? You wanna..." He nodded his head towards a store across from the fire pit.

"Yes! Shopping sounds good. I'm literally doing nothing, I was just staring into space finishing this coffee. Lead the way."

As I followed him, I remembered warm summer nights when we were growing up. Before anyone knew what a relationship looked like, we always paired up together. Making out in movie theaters, clumsily grabbing each other, grinding too close at dances.

Inside the store, he stomped his feet, shaking snow off his boots.

"Are you gonna exchange it?" I asked. "I don't mind looking around. I can help!" I said, enthusiastically.

"Nooo, I'm just returning it. I actually don't know if it fits or not, it's just... stupid," he looked down, embarrassed. "I have this older cousin, he thinks it's funny to buy me ugly clothes every year. He was always the cool one, you know? He was hot and great with girls when I was awkward. So even though we're not kids anymore, he still tries to bully me."

"I mean, you weren't that uncool. Unless I was, too, right?" I laughed. I reached my hand out. "Let me see!" He held the bag towards me, and I opened it and looked inside. I could tell it was expensive by the feel of the fabric, but it was really, really ugly. "Is it a... sweater?"

"Yes. Gross, right? Like who would wear that, ever? Unless you were in a boy band in the 90s?"

He walked to the cash register and I looked around. When he walked back to me, he was beaming. "They gave me cash! He said it's supposed to be store credit, but," he pointed discreetly, "remember him from school?"

I glanced at the guy behind the counter. "Ohh, yeah, I remember!"

"He owns the store," he said.

"Dude. Your lucky day. Buy me lunch with it. Send a picture to your dumbass cousin," I laughed.

Outside, we walked towards the restaurants. Just ahead of us was a lingerie boutique. I stopped walking, my eyes lingering on the matching bras and panties.

He stopped and turned, noticing what I was looking at. I cast my eyes up to his, a grin spreading across my face. "Remember when we used to make out all the time?"

"Wait, what?" He stuttered. "I mean, yes, I do. Obviously."

I moved closer to him. "You were the first guy who ever unhooked my bra with one hand." I was so close to him that I could have wrapped my arms around him without moving. "Actually, you're the only guy who ever did it. But we never saw each other fully naked, isn't that weird?" I grinned at him and bit my lip.

I watched as he gulped and breathed in, leaning towards me.

I nodded towards the door. "What would your douchebag cousin think of his sweater money going towards that?"

He looked back at the store window, a smile spreading across his face. "Fuck him. Yes. I'm gonna spend his money on something he’ll never get to see."

"Okay," I smiled. I turned and walked towards the door. Turning around to face him, I walked backwards and said, "You get to dress me up. What do you want to see me wear?"

He was on a mission. He walked the length of the store, eyes glued to the different bras, panties, garter belts, nightgowns, robes. He picked a set and said, "Hold it up, I can’t imagine it on the hanger."

I smiled, reaching for them. "Inappropriate. You're gonna get us kicked out."

He laughed. "I'm serious! When it's hanging up, it all just looks like strings."

I unzipped my coat and pushed it away from my body, holding up the bra and panties roughly where they should be.

He sucked in a breath between his teeth. "I don't know!" He looked genuinely concerned, like I'd change my mind if he couldn't find something fast. "Too many options." He paused, looking around. Then, he looked up, behind me, his eyes widening. He raised his hand, pointing. "That one. I want you to wear that one."

I dropped my hands and turned around. An entire set was on a mannequin. I turned back to him. "Good taste. How expensive was the sweater, though? It might not be enough."

"I don't fucking care. I want to see you in it."

I put the hangers back on their rack and said, "Okay." I smiled, walking over to the mannequin. "What color? Black is classic, and this pink's kind of cute."

"The red reminds me of the porn when you click the vintage tab. Like vintage slut?"

"Well," I said, moving closer to him, our eyes locked, "do you want me to be a vintage slut? Or just a regular slut? For you?"

"Vintage." He was nodding his head, his eyes glued to the mannequin. "Vintage. Get the red."

I picked out my size for all the pieces in the set and he paid.

"My house, right? Did you drive?"

"I ubered. You drive us," I grinned.

He was quiet in the car. I knew the way to his house. I remembered it from years of biking there, then driving there with friends, then driving there alone.

"Why didn't we ever..." He left the question unfinished, staring straight ahead.

I laughed. "Fuck?"

He nodded.

"Bad timing?"

"I guess..."

I could feel my face softening as I watched him. "Okay. I'll be the honest one. Because everything we did was innocent. At least to me. Making out and dry humping." He laughed. "Right?? It felt like I would fuck up the memories of my first kiss, my first date to a middle school dance, all that. It felt like I would fuck it up if we did more."

"Yeah. Maybe." He was gripping the steering wheel, and he glanced over at me. "I wish I would've tried, though. I had such a crush on you forever."

I hit his arm, playfully. "Stop! I mean, obviously I had a crush on you, too." I looked out the window, watching familiar houses pass us by. "So this is like... hitting the skip button a bunch of times?"

He looked at me, puzzled. "Meaning what?"

I leaned over the armrest towards him. "Well, the last time we hooked up was the summer after senior year, right? And we just made out in somebody's yard, around a bonfire, I think?"

"Maybe? Or the time we all slept outside? We slept in that sleeping bag together, spooning? Maybe some finger stuff."

"Well, either way, that's like Hooking Up 101 compared to this," I grabbed the handles of the bag from the lingerie boutique and lifted it. "This is grown up shit."

He glanced at the bag and I saw his fingers flex. "Do you like wearing that kind of stuff?"

I leaned back in my seat, still looking at him. "I love it," I purred. "Actually, you probably would have been fine with what I'm already wearing. If you didn't find anything at the store, I mean."

"I'd be fine with you wearing granny panties," he laughed. He was loosening up. "So when you said we were innocent, do you mean you or me?"

I thought about it before answering. "I guess I mean you. Because I don't... My hookup life after you has been pretty... robust."

He laughed out a sharp snort. "See, I thought you meant you. Because I'm kind of the same. Since you, I mean. Kind of... wild."

"I'm not WILD wild, I'm just... adventurous. Wild enough to suggest buying hundreds of dollars of lingerie and getting fucked in it instead of having lunch."

"Fuck," he muttered, breathing out and glancing at me.

"What about you? Bring me up to speed, what kind of stuff are you into? Since we've both moved way beyond grabbing ass in a sleeping bag."

"I don't know, just, you know," he looked over at me, his shoulders relaxing back when he saw my eager face. "I'm down for whatever."

"Come on! You've got to be into something."

"I don't know," he laughed. "I really like pretty much anything. I've thought about this so much, even back then. You could be into anything and I'd do it."

My breath caught, a wave of heat running through me. I tried to compose myself, taking a deep breath. "So what made you pick the outfit you picked?"

"Ohhh, okay. Are you a therapist or something?" He laughed. His voice was steady. "The way it's made, it makes it look like you'll be tied up, you know? It's all just straps, I can pull on it. I can pull on you."

Now I was the one muttering. "Fuck. That's hot. So I can't get away." His eyes widened. "No! I mean, like, I'm yours. While you're grabbing me. Like you own me."

He breathed out and stared straight ahead. "Thank fuck," he said, as we finally pulled into the driveway.

He opened the front door and I immediately remembered the house.

"Do you stay in your old room?"

"My parents don't actually live here now, they rent it out. And since they're gone, I can use whichever room I want."

"Oh my God, such a rebel," I said, teasing him.

"You want to use the big room, right? My parents' room?"

"I mean... I'm fine with your old room. A full circle moment?"

He shook his head, then smiled. "Let's go." He reached out for my hand, then fell back behind me, gently pushing my lower back towards the stairs.

When we got to his room, he ran his hands through his hair, looking around. "How do you want to... um, the bathroom is there? Or do you want me to watch you...?"

I grinned and bit my bottom lip, looking up at him. "Wait out here," I said. I went into the bathroom and took everything out of the bag.

It was complicated.

I put on the strappy playsuit first - it looked like a swimsuit with no fabric, just a lot of hems. Then, over it, I put on the strappy panties and bra. Last, the corset. It laced up the back and cinched in my waist. I tied it loose enough so I could breathe, but tight enough to feel the straps, the stays, the boning digging into me. He hadn't even touched me and I already felt like he was controlling me. Making me feel things I wouldn't have felt if he didn't want me to.

I flipped my head over, fluffing up my hair, then cracked the door open and stuck my head out. "Close your eyes," I purred. He did, and I opened the door all the way. He was sitting on the bed. Back against the headboard, legs stretched out. His palms were covering his knees, and I could see his fingers flexing. He was nervous.

"Can I look? You're driving me fucking crazy."

I walked to the bed and stood beside him. "No looking yet, but you can touch." I took his hand in mine and brought it to my hip. My hand covering his, I ran his palm up my body.

He hooked his fingers around the strap of the bra. He furrowed his brow. "Let me fucking look. Please, let me fucking look at you."

I laughed. "Okay, open your eyes."

"Holy shit," he breathed, grabbing me by the waist with one hand. He stretched his palm out across my ass, squeezing it and letting it go, letting it bounce back.

I pressed my thighs against the side of the bed, leaning towards him. I ran my palm up the inside of his leg, starting at his knee, skimming his hard cock, and hooking my fingers in his waistband.

He turned towards me, sitting on the side of the bed, pulling me between his legs. His face turned upwards, locking eyes with me, he flattened his palms on my stomach and ran them around to the back of the corset. He pulled the laces, tightening it on me. As they got tighter, pushing all the breath out of my lungs, my head dropped back and I clung to his shoulders. I hooked my foot around the back of his leg to keep myself standing upright. He kept pulling the laces tighter and tighter, winding the slack around his hands and pulling my body closer to his with his forearms. I pressed my hips into his chest, steadying myself. The tightening fabric pressed against my ribcage, a bruising feeling spreading across my body. Not exactly pain, but constriction. An aching control.

Then, he let go, suddenly. My head dropped down and I watched him. He gripped my waist with both hands and turned me around, so I was facing away from him. He ran his fingers up the back of the panties, his knuckles grazing my ass. He pulled the fabric towards his body, making the straps dig into me in the front. I felt his hands close into fists, gathering the fabric as he pulled. I stumbled back into him and he tugged harder, then let go, moving his hands back to the laces on the corset.

I felt him untie it, pulling the laces out slowly, methodically, one side and then the other. I held the corset on me, pressing my hands into my sternum. When he got to the top, he reached around and flattened his palm on my stomach. "Let go," he growled.

My hands dropped and he pressed into me, turning me towards him again. He looked up at me as he moved his hands away from my body, the corset falling to the ground between us.

Looking down at him, I watched it fall off my body, and saw the marks it had left. I breathed in sharply at the sight of them. Symmetrical lines, pressed into my body from my hip bones to just under my tits. He looked down and ran his fingers along the impressions.

"Fuck," he muttered. "I love it. Look what I did to you."

I gripped my palm onto his back. "You think I liked that?"

He kissed my stomach, sloppy kisses with lots of tongue. "You want me to check?" He looked up at me, his mouth still close to my skin.

I nodded and pushed his hand between my legs. He smiled up at me as he ran his fingers under the fabric, along my pussy.

"You loved it. I'm not even inside you and I can feel how wet you are. Come here." He pushed himself back and pawed at me. I climbed into his lap, straddling him.

The kisses were familiar. The same intensity as when we were first figuring it out together. I sat up, pressing my hips into his chest again, gripping onto his back with my outstretched hands.

One arm wrapped around my waist, he slid his other hand up my thigh, working his fingers under the fabric. Then, pressing them inside me.

"This is as far as we got before, right? So everything from now on is new?"

"Mmmm. Pick up where we left off. You think you know how to make me cum now?"

"You weren't a slut back then, but you are one now. I can read you. Give me like, 5 minutes."

"Oh yeah? Okay. Too cocky. But you can try. I won't even hold it. If you can do it, I'll cum." I eased back down into his lap, kissing and licking his neck, then pulling his shirt up and over his head.

I could tell he was paying attention to every sound I made, every time I shivered or clung onto him. He used both hands, fingers working inside me and on my clit. I sat back and opened my eyes. He was looking at me, studying me.

"What?" I laughed.

"We never did this with the lights on. I've never seen your face like this before."

I pressed my body into his and rode his hands, setting the rhythm that he followed. He moved his hand away from my clit, pushing the heel of his other hand up so I could grind on it. His free hand moved to the vertical strap running between my neck and my hips. He grabbed it, just under my neck, and pulled me into him, down onto his lap. I could still buck, but only with my hips. He held my head close to his.

My face pressed to the side of his neck, muffled, I asked, "How long has it been?"

"No way. Are you close? I told you I could fucking read you." He was beaming.

I moved my face back just enough for him to see me smile. "I'm gonna cum on your hand. Ready?" He nodded. "Okay, just keep doing that, just like that. Don't change anything."

I clung onto his shoulders and rode his hand. All my muscles relaxed and I sank down, my legs spreading wider, my pussy gripping his fingers deeper. My mouth fell open, my tongue running along my teeth and hooking and catching onto one. My brow furrowed, my eyebrows raising and straightening. I held it as long as I could, then a guttural noise escaped my throat. I clenched my jaw and breathed out a hard breath as the muscles inside me contracted and clenched around his fingers.

He waited until I stopped moving, then pulled them out of me, slowly and gently, and wrapped his arms around me. Turning his mouth to my ear, he whispered, "I thought you'd be louder."

I pulled my head up, facing him. "I can be," I smiled. "But that one was for me, not for you."

His eyelids got heavy and he pushed me down, onto my back, a grin building across his face. He stood up, unbuckling his belt and taking off his pants and underwear. Climbing back onto the bed, he lifted my hips and pulled off the panties. He wrapped his hands around the tops of my legs, pulling me closer to him. "You're so beautiful," he mumbled. "You're so fucking beautiful."

I reached down and pressed on the head of his hard cock, putting it in place for him to thrust into me. I pulled my legs back towards my body as he pushed it inside, then hooked my ankles behind him, under his ass. He was sitting up, and he grabbed the straps on the suit again. This time, he held the ones across my hips in both his hands, on either side, and I could feel it digging into my back. He held me so close to him that he hardly had to move - just rocking his hips made his cock thrust deep into me.

I held onto his waist, my legs spread wide. "Fuckkkk, I love this. I'm so fucking lucky right now. I wish I'd known you were like this."

"I didn't know I was like this." He flattened one hand and ran it up my body, hooking it up under the bra, pressing his fingers into my skin. "Take this off," he ordered.

I grinned up at him. "See if you can still do it."

"What?""Unhook it with one hand," I laughed.

"Fuck," he laughed back. "Okay, hang on. I haven't done this in awhile."

I arched my back, pressing my tits up towards him. He leaned over me, still inside me. I bucked up into him as he ran his hand along my back, searching for the clasp. I felt him move his fingers around it, then I felt the tension release from around my ribcage as the strap came loose.

"Still got it," he said, hovering over me, then leaning in for a messy, frantic kiss.

I pushed him away from me and took the bra off, throwing it to my side. He sat all the way back up, taking both my tits in his hand and grabbing them, pinching the nipples between the sides of his fingers.

"I'm gonna cum. Can I cum inside you?" He was breathless.

"Yes. Fuck, yes, cum inside me. Give it to me."

He clung onto the tops of my legs, his thrusting harder but more erratic. His head hanging down, he pounded into me until he let out a sputtering groan. He pushed his hips into the backs of my legs, pressing his cock as far as it would go, all the way in. I felt it pulse inside me, and I felt the wetness spread. He leaned forward, pressing my legs towards my body and leaning on them.

Before he could pull out of me, I wrapped my legs around him and propped myself up on my elbows. "I want to do something filthy," I said, grinning and biting my lip.

He ran his hands through his hair, his nostrils flaring as he breathed out. "What?"

"I wanna make myself cum, and push your cum out of me. And I want you to tell me what it looks like."

"Fuck." He sat back, kneeling. "Yeah, okay. Do it."

I knew it wouldn't take long. I laid back, him between my legs, and ran one hand over my body. My other hand went to work, brushing and dragging across my clit. Being rough with the most delicate parts of myself. As I got closer and closer, I could feel his cum moving outwards, but not all the way. The heel of my palm was pressed to my skin, and I could feel the muscles in my lower body contract and tighten. The warm feeling started to spread, and my pussy started clenching again. I felt the wetness dripping out of me as I came.

"Fuck," he said, almost frenzied. "Fuck, it looks so good, it's pouring out. It looks so hot getting pushed out of your pussy."

My breath was still heavy, and I propped myself up on my elbows again. I reached down and dragged my fingers between my legs, coating them with all of it. Holding his gaze, I brought my fingers to my mouth, cleaning them off with my lips and tongue. He pushed himself onto me, pressing me down against the bed and kissing me, wildly.

He shifted over, to the side of me, palming the side of my face and letting his hand fall, resting on my chest.

"You know," I said, turning to him, "you've still never technically seen me naked."

"Oh, right, because this thing counts." He pulled up one of the straps of the playsuit and let it flick back down onto me.

"It's clothing!" I insisted.

"Well," he said, laying on his back and resting his hands behind his head, "our flights aren't til tomorrow. I was supposed to buy you lunch, right? I bet you'll let me see you naked if I buy you lunch."

I slapped him, playfully, on his stomach. "Oh, because I'm such a cheap date? Except for all this expensive lingerie."

"Oh, that's not yours." He looked at me mischievously. "That's mine, I'm keeping all of it."

"Fuck you! Half and half. You keep this thing and the corset, I keep the bra and panties."

"Deal," he said. He put his hand out for me to shake. I laughed, and stuck mine out. He took it, and pulled me into him for a kiss.

Then, breaking away, he said, "That was worth the wait."

_____

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