In the early months we dated, I asked my girl if she had any lingerie I hadn’t seen. She kinda rolled her eyes and said, yes, but that it wasn’t really her “style” and she only got it because her ex was into it.

I was definitely intrigued so I asked more questions. Basically, the lingerie was pink — she wouldn’t be caught dead in pink — and a babydoll, when she prefers to be in corsets and garters and leather and edgier looking shit basically.

I thought it’d be hot for her to wear it for me, and she kinda playfully fought back before agreeing. The night she walked in wearing that lingerie was so incredibly hot: Black hair swept back, in a transparent pink babydoll with her pierced tits showing, wearing a very soft satin thong. She wore a silk pink choker to top it all off.

There was a big mindfuck here because Rachel’s ex bought it for her, and the “good girl” look was absolutely fucking counter to her personality. But here she was, wearing this outfit because her ex liked seeing her like this.

The sex was predictably hot and great; I ate her through her satin panties, piped her from the back, watched her kiss my balls on her knees. The whole time I couldn’t shake the knowledge that her ex man had seen her in the exact same position.

That he basically dressed her like this, to his perfect liking, and she went along with it because she wanted to please him that badly. I was jealous and turned on at the same time, throbbing with visceral dislike of her former lover and secret admiration that he had my girlfriend just like this.

A few years later, I asked her more details about her and her ex’s sex life. She admitted that he was more aggressive than me — rougher and stronger. And she absolutely loved it when he ravaged her. The knowledge that she used to put that outfit on so he could carry her in his arms and fuck her cockdrunk while standing up…it absolutely fucks me up (and turns me on) thinking about it.