The white lingerie was new, tags still in the trash, something I bought on impulse. I wore it with nothing else, sitting on the edge of my white sheets, when I heard his key slide into the lock. The fabric was thin, lace trim scratching slightly, almost too innocent for what I had in mind.
When he walked in, smelling of outside air and cigarettes, he halted in the doorway, eyes dropping to the white against my pale skin. No one spoke. He crossed the room in three strides, hands rough and immediate, mouth on my throat. I gasped as fingers pushed under the white lace, finding me soaked already. Embarrassingly so. He knew without asking. His thumb circled my clit through the thin fabric while his other hand pulled the top down, exposing my tits to the cool air.
I ended up on my stomach, face down in the pillow, the white lingerie twisted around my ribs. He drove into me from behind, slamming deep, the fabric riding up. I clutched the sheets, knuckles white, making sounds int
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