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Author Topic: Dress (Taylor Swift)  (Read 6857 times)

elodiegirlie

Dress (Taylor Swift)
« on: June 18, 2021, 04:07:05 PM »
Note: Avid Literotica browsers among you may have already seen this, a kind reader suggested I also post it on here. Chapter 3 is in the works, but Chapters 1 and 2 are posted here. I hope you enjoy, and I welcome any thoughts, ideas, and feedback of any kind!

Dress (Chapter 1)

Rosanna pressed her fingers to her temples and sighed bitterly as she stared at her screen.

Being Aitchison Maitland's youngest ever female partner sounded good - and looked good on a CV. But in practice? Still so dull.

Thirty pages into the contract and it still made no more sense than when she'd started. The document barely seemed to be through its introductory disclaimers and boilerplate assertions of dread consequences for breaching its Byzantine terms. Sure the figures involved were mind-boggling (£110 million for three seasons!), but that novelty wore off pretty fast.

"That sounds so exciting Ros!" her friends would trill, as she casually dropped that she was working on the contractual details of a massive new Netflix deal for a client.

"Sorry, no details though!" she would continue teasingly. "Strict confidentiality agreements on this one..."

Because however exciting the clients, how expensive the contract, and how generous the annual bonus was, the truth remained that 99% of Rosanna Jackson's working day was spent painstakingly trawling through arcane legal documents, and reviewing the work of her more junior colleagues.

Boring, boring, boring.

All day, every day, five days a week in dull times, seven when something particularly dramatic was in the works.

Some senior colleagues had the excitement of holiday homes, husbands, wives, families and dogs to act as an escape. Others discreetly enjoyed the hedonistic opportunities that being wealthy in London afforded.

Rosanna for her part lived with her boyfriend Greg in a tastefully appointed flat in West London. A perfectly amiable rugby playing City banker, he was attentive and good fun, without many of the tiresome character defects that one found in men of his background (Eton, Oxford, MBA, etc. etc.)

Approaching her thirtieth birthday, Rosanna thought she had dropped the appropriate number of hints about rings, country churches and large families. She assumed Greg had the logistics in hand. Maybe their summer getaway that year would be the moment.

And that would be nice. Engagement, a splendid family wedding, children, a labrador or two, an Aga, an encyclopaedic knowledge of Waitrose's deli counter.

All nice, all very lovely, something to look forward to. The next fifty years, all planned out ahead of her.

But still. A bit boring.

***

"Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow!" Harriet insisted, firmly.

"But it's a work night, and I'm knee deep in this absolute horrowshow of a deal, darling".

"It'll be fun! We'll go for a quick drink, a quick dance, and I promise I'll have you home to Greg by midnight, my little Cinderella!"

Rosanna sighed.

"If I say yes, will you promise to leave me in peace for the rest of the month?"

"Deal!"

***

Rosanna steadied herself against the granite bathroom sink, and took a deep breath. The pounding of bass beats rattled the mirror as she studied her reflection. Not bad, all things considered.

Her jet-black hair, let loose from its usually prim ponytail, fell across her tanned shoulders, artfully dishevelled after an hour of vigorous dancing. Dark eyeliner framed her catlike green eyes, a feature inherited from her Irish mother. She barely even looked tired. Amazing what a bit of work with the touch-up brush could do.

Her dark pink Hervé Léger bandage dress had looked immaculate, until an errant hand had knocked £30 worth of cocktail across the front of it. Happily her frantic dabbing with tissues had prevented it from becoming too see-through, but there was definitely going to be a stain.

"For fuck's sake", Rosanna muttered to herself.

"Are you OK?", an American voice drawled.

"Fine, thanks, not a problem", she replied irritably.

"I just came to say sorry- I think it was me you ran into out there- and to offer you a replacement drink because I *hate* it when people do that to me because I'm clumsy enough to begin with let alone when other people are involved!"

"That's very kind but..." Rosanna looked up.

And stopped dead as she saw who had spilled her drink.

Irritating encounters in the ladies' room are of course an occupational hazard on a night out, even in Mayfair's priciest hangouts.

Stream of consciousness rambling from drunk American girls? Not exactly unusual.

But this wasn't just some random.

Rosanna looked past her reflection in the mirror, and saw one of the most recognizable faces in the world.

***

"So you're here often then?"

"Yeah - it's cool! Just somewhere fun where you don't get hassled so much".

Rosanna stood at the bar with her new acquaintance.

"And I'm not just too many gin and tonics down? You are the Actual Taylor Swift?"

Taylor giggled.

"I get that a lot".

The two women sat on a deep leather sofa, towards the back of the darkened room, and watched the blue-lit shapes moving across the dancefloor.

Rosanna wasn't quite sure where Harriet had got to, but she didn't particularly care at this moment.

As she sipped her replacement cocktail and talked to Actual Taylor Swift, she felt that the evening was certainly looking up.

Taylor seemed particularly interested in Rosanna's work.

"We should talk! I have something of a professional interest in copyright law!"

Her blue eyes flashed earnestly as she talked about record deals and royalties, master tapes and touring. Periodically she pressed a hand onto Rosanna's arm to emphasise a point.

Distractedly, Rosanna realised she'd missed something.

"Sorry, I missed that completely!"

Taylor slid closer on the sofa, her hip pressing against Rosanna's.

"Sorry, it's loud in here! I said, if I give you my number can we sort something official? I have attorneys in the US obviously but I'd like to know what my options are in the UK as well".

"Sure" Rosanna said faintly, as the American pop star took her iPhone and tapped in a phone number.

"There you go! Right, another drink?"

Rosanna acquiesced.

***

Somehow, and she didn't quite know how, it was 4am. This was bad. She was used to seeing this side of the day from the morning, but late nights out in the middle of the week were not really custom and practice these days. Rosanna anticipated a horrible day in the office.

"Come on, help a girlfriend out!"

Taylor, still chirpy but slurring her words a little, grabbed Rosanna by the hand and dragged her towards the bathrooms.

Rosanna stood by the sinks, touching up her makeup again, as she waited for Taylor. She planned her excuse to depart, reluctantly admitting to herself that it was way past her bedtime.

Taylor emerged from the cubicle, and tugged down the hem of her black minidress as she walked across the empty room to Rosanna. Rosanna was struck by Swift's height- she was tall herself and occasionally had to forgo heels on a night out, but the American in her stiletto heels must have easily topped six foot.

Rosanna plucked up her courage.

"I think I need to go home, I'm afraid".

"One for the road?" Taylor suggested, batting her eyelashes.

"I can't, I'm sorry Tay, this has been such fun but I really have to be up early tomorrow and-"

And Taylor Swift leaned forward, and kissed her on the lips.

***

Pressed against Taylor, with her back against the bathroom wall, Rosanna kissed the taller girl back enthusiastically, still slightly stunned by how things had proceeded.

Girls were not unknown territory to her by any means, but global megastars were something a little different. Particularly ones with quite such an enthusiastically heterosexual resume as Taylor Swift.

Yet here she was, making out in the bathroom of a Mayfair nightclub with her.

Taylor's hands snaked down her back, across the material of her dress, and cupped Rosanna's round bum through the tight dress.

A small gasp escaped from Rosanna's mouth.

Taylor kissed her way down Rosanna's elegant tanned neck, to her collarbone.

Rosanna closed her eyes and let her continue, her hands splayed across Taylor's back.

Taylor's response was to slide her hand down the back of Rosanna's thigh and up under the hem of her dress, caressing the silky smooth flesh.

Her fingers found their way into the waistband of Rosanna's lacy black thong.

"Can I take this off?" she murmured.

"God yes", Rosanna replied.

A small voice in the back of her head questioned what she thought she was doing, allowing another woman to strip off her knickers in a semi-public place. But another, deeper, wilder one, told her to carry on, damn the consequences.

Taylor neatly dropped the crumpled scrap of black lace onto the sink behind Rosanna, and pulled Rosanna's dress up around her waist.

Instinctively Rosanna parted her thighs.

And Taylor brought her slender musician's fingers to press against Rosanna's soaking wet pussy.

"Please don't stop", Rosanna whispered.

Taylor's middle and index finger eased along Rosanna's pussy lips, and slipped inside. Rosanna gasped as her most intimate parts were penetrated by the American singer. Taylor flexed her fingers and Rosanna felt every millimetre of them pressing against the walls of her sopping cunt.

Taylor's left hand gripped Rosanna's long dark hair as she began to pump her fingers in and out.

Rosanna's eyes shut and she moaned. She arched her back, and thrust her hips forward, desperately entreating Taylor to fuck her.

Swift's blue eyes sparkled as she brought her thumb into play, expertly teasing the hood of Rosanna clit. She bowed her head to the other girl's neck and enthusiastically kissed her collarbone in sharp little flickers of passion.

Rosanna moaned again. Her toes curled as every sinew of her lithe body welcomed the skilled play of her lover. She barely noticed the cold porcelain of the basin against her naked bum.

Taylor fucked her hard and fast with her fingers, Rosanna moaned and gasped, guttural sounds of carnal passion. She let herself relax into the hard, sweaty, standing up sex with Taylor. She moaned again, this time significantly louder, the sound echoing round the expensively appointed bathroom.

Then a sharp bang froze Taylor and Rosanna, as the door to the ladies' room opened.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" a woman's voice gasped, before beating a hasty retreat.

Bright red and flushed, her heart going at a thousand beats per minute, Rosanna briefly returned to earth.

"We should probably...I mean...shouldn't we?"

Taylor smirked.

"Shouldn't we what?"

"Someone else might walk right in! And they might not leave?"

Taylor giggled. "Some of us perform for a living darling. But if you want to be slightly more discreet..."

And with this she grabbed the damp lace handful of material that had previously been Rosanna's knickers, and pushed them into her partner's mouth.

Rosanna's eyes widened as she was gagged with her own panties. Her nose and mouth were filled with the earthy, musky scent of her sex.

"Mmmph--". She started to say something, but was halted by Taylor pressing a palm to her cheek, and kissing her passionately through the frilly mouthful of Agent Provocateur.

"See? Much quieter! Now let me just..."

Taylor pulled her own black dress up to allow a slightly freer range of movement, then dropped to her knees.

Her hands squeezed Rosanna's pert round bum cheeks as she lowered her head.

And Taylor Swift's tongue found Rosanna's clit.

Rosanna almost screamed as the sensitive bud was plundered.

Rosanna felt warm waves of pleasure rising and falling in her stomach, rising towards a crescendo.

She moaned again and again, almost squeaking with ecstasy through her gagged mouth.

As Taylor unerringly licked at her pussy, she tangled both hands in the American singer's iconic blond hair.

Taylor licked harder.

Remorselessly.

Digging her fingernails into Rosanna's bottom.

Working her tongue, lashing it back and forth.

"Don't stop don't stop don't stop," Rosanna groaned and panted through her mouthful of expensive underwear.

And then, almost without warning, she tipped over the edge into the single most intense orgasm of her life.

Instinctively, her inhibitions gone, she let out a deep, guttural groan as her pussy reflexively ground against Taylor Swift's mouth and nose.

"AHHHHHHHHHH!"

A flood of juices released from her cunt and soaked Taylor's face, and her knees buckled and shook. Rosanna half collapsed, only staying upright by falling back against the bathroom counter. And everything almost went black as she gasped for breath.

Rosanna opened her eyes after what seemed like an age, and spat out her knickers.

"Oh my God".

"You're so cute when you come" Taylor giggled.

She pulled Taylor to her feet and kissed her deeply, pressing their bodies together. To Taylor it felt like her shaky-kneed partner was using her almost for physical support.

"Please tell me it's like that every time for you," Taylor said.

Lost for words, and a little befuddled, Rosanna blinked at Taylor.

Taylor's red lipstick was smeared and her hair was a mess where Rosanna had tugged at it in the throes of her orgasm.

Rosanna, by comparison, looked dishevelled and sweaty, bright red in the face, skirt rucked up around her waist, one strap off her dress fallen off her shoulder, and her black bra half on display.

Her arms around Taylor, Rosanna looked intensely at her lover.

"I feel like I should return the favour -- that was amazing".

Taylor giggled primly. "I thought you wanted to go home?"

And she handed Rosanna back her knickers.

***

Rosanna collapsed into bed, barely disturbing her sleeping boyfriend, her mind whirling with possibilities, guilt, pleasure, and a million other emotions.

As she was about put her phone down on the bedside table, it lit up with a WhatsApp message.

"Night night, lover. I liked your dress. T xxx"
 
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elodiegirlie

Re: Dress (Taylor Swift)
« Reply #1 on: June 18, 2021, 04:11:29 PM »
Dress (Chapter Two)

Thursday had been a struggle. Somehow, hung over and guilty, Rosanna had dragged herself into the office. A day of black coffee and penitence followed.

What had just happened?

Well, without putting too fine a point on it, she had fucked Taylor Swift in the toilets of an expensive Mayfair club.

Or, to be scrupulously and lawyerly accurate, she had been fucked by Taylor Swift in the toilets of an expensive Mayfair club.

And it had been good. But wrong. But very good.

And now she was sat at her desk, trying desperately to concentrate on the senior partner's tracked changes to a complex contract, rather than the ache between her legs.

But all she wanted to do was text Taylor back.

Rosanna buried herself in Microsoft Word for the rest of the day, not even venturing out for a lunchtime sandwich.

That evening she had a long lazy bath, watched an hour and a half of a disappointing detective show on Netflix, followed by twenty minutes of perfunctory sex with Greg. As he snored beside her, sated, she scrolled through gossip stories on her iPad.

"Dua Lipa Steals The Show At Brit Awards", caught her eye, on the MailOnline.

The pictures were the best bit of the story. The brunette pop star with her endless legs, pouting down the camera, wearing a skintight white dress that did nothing to conceal the fact that she was quite clearly wearing a black lace thong underneath.

Still horny after her unsatisfactory shag with Greg, Rosanna slipped a hand into her underwear and rubbed herself to a speedy orgasm, imagining what it would be like to bury her face between Dua Lipa's thighs.

With that achieved, she fell asleep. Her exhausted brain delivered her a stream of bizarre and fanciful dreams, some charged with wild erotic desire, others surreal and inexplicable. Through all of them, the sharp cheekbones and blonde hair of a particular American goddess made repeat appearances.

***

The next morning Rosanna dressed smartly in a tailored dark grey business suit, and a silky white blouse. Professional. Partner. The perfect corporate lawyer.

As she sat on the District Line train, still above ground, she pensively crafted a reply to Taylor's message.

What to reply with? Friendly but dismissive? Something dirty? Ask to see her again? She knew what she should do, morally speaking. Break it off, send a polite farewell, and return to a life of blissful upper middle-class domesticity with her partner.

No more flings, no more secrets, no more lesbian outings.

But realistically, was she going to see the American singer again? Probably not. Would a "Dear John" text to Taylor Swift be a little...well, meta?

"Keep it light and flirty", Rosanna thought to herself. A little bit of naughtiness to help the day pass. A nice memory with half a promise of more to come, though never to be acted on.

As she thumbed "send" on her text, Rosanna's phone chirped with a notification.

"CALENDAR: 11am GMT. New Client Intro. Ms. Alison Sjöberg".

Her brow furrowed a little. She didn't recall an Alison Sjöberg. It sounded...Swedish maybe? She texted her assistant Melissa a screengrab of the calendar invite with a question mark.

Melissa replied almost instantly. "New client. HNW. Very discreet. Her people asked for you by name. We've set you up for an hour at 11am".

Irked by the secrecy Rosanna was still in an irritable mood as she stepped off the crowded tube and shouldered her way through the morning City crowds to Aitchison Maitland's offices.

Life contained enough surprises without her own colleagues trying to inject suspense into the day.

As she stood in the lift, her phone pinged again. It was Taylor.

"Other dresses? That does sound promising! Not that you asked, but I'm free this evening, just some dull meetings with lawyers to survive first. I'll text you when I'm done. T xxx".

Rosanna's stomach gave a little lurch. That sounded alarmingly like a date.

***

"And they specified just me? No junior, no paralegal?" Rosanna queried.

"That's right- funny one isn't it?" Melissa replied. "Maybe they don't know that we'll still bill at the same hourly rate!"

At one minute to eleven, Rosanna walked into the pre-booked conference room, with her most professional fixed smile.

"Good Morning Ms. Sj-oh!"

Standing demurely at one end of the room, Taylor Swift wiggled her fingers in greeting.

She wore a plain navy knee length dress, that flared out appealingly from her slender waist. Her lissom long limbs were showed off to their fullest advantage. Her iconic blonde hair was drawn back into a neat ponytail.

"I thought I'd surprise you!", Taylor smiled. "Looks like it worked. I'm your 11am..."

"Right, OK, well it's a very nice surprise!" Rosanna, a little flummoxed, nudged the heavy door with her heel to close it.

"So is this the record contract issue you were telling me about, or...?" Rosanna asked.

As the door clicked shut Taylor stalked around the end of the long conference room table and lunged at Rosanna.

"In a minute. I want to say hello properly first".

Her arms slid around Rosanna's waist and her lips met the young lawyer's in a firm, predatory kiss. Rosanna dropped the notepad she was carrying.

"Absolutely not, absolutely not here- are you fucking mad?" Rosanna managed to gasp between frenzied kisses.

"Maybe a little?" Taylor responded, as her delicate fingers unbuttoned Rosanna's trousers.

She planted a string of kisses down Rosanna's neck, and nuzzled aside the collar of her blouse to better access her collarbone.

"Oh no, no, just- aaaa!"

Rosanna let out an involuntary groan as Taylor's hand slid down inside the waistband of her lacy white knickers and unerringly found its warm, wet target.

Taylor giggled.

"I think your brain and your pussy are saying two different things!"

Rosanna moaned as her intimate lips were parted, and moaned again as Taylor curled her middle finger inside. She felt soaking wet already, desperately aware of how much her body craved this.

"Oh for fuck's sake just fuck me then", she spat out in her clipped public school accent.

"Language, Miss Rosanna!" quipped Taylor, as she again met Rosanna's lips with hers in a wet, sloppy, open mouthed kiss. Their tongues danced together as the two women ground passionately against each other.

Through the frosted glass wall Rosanna could see the indistinct shapes of her colleagues moving around the bustling office. Rosanna heard the murmuring of conversations and ringing telephones, underpinned by the incessant humming of the fluorescent lights above her head.

A part of her was terrified, of the consequences for her job, her livelihood, her dignity if the door opened now and she was exposed to the office.

Rosanna ground her hips against Taylor's fingers. She arched her back, screwed her eyes shut, as the relentless feeling began to build inside her. Taylor frigged her hard and fast, hand tenting the fabric of her underwear.

"God you just love this so much don't you, you dirty girl!" breathed Taylor into her ear.

And nipped her hard on the earlobe with her perfect white teeth.

"You just love my fingers don't you?"

"Yes Taylor," Rosanna gasped.

"You can tell me how much, you know, I like to hear it".

"So fucking- ah- much, just please don't stop".

Taylor's left hand worked its way between two buttons of Rosanna's filmy white blouse. In her haste she accidentally pulled one free, as the delicate thread holding it gave way.

Rosanna was wearing a frilly nude-coloured bralette under her top. Its insubstantial material did not take long to surrender her pert little boobs to Taylor's eager hand.

"Your nipples are sooo pretty!" Taylor exclaimed, admiring the chocolate brown little buds sitting high and erect on Rosanna's breasts. She alternated between swift licks and nibbles, each evoking a sharp gasp from her lover.

"Oh more" Rosanna groaned, feeling Taylor's hands and mouth everywhere. She knew she was close to coming.

Taylor abandoned Rosanna's boobs in order to pull the shorter girl tight against her, Taylor's own breasts pressing against her lover through her dress.

"AAAAHHH-mmmpph!"

Rosanna's eyes bulged as she clamped her mouth shut, trying to keep quiet. And in that moment her climax came, and the overwhelming tide of pleasure took her. Her face and neck flushed bright red.

The muscles of her cunt clenched tightly around a delighted Taylor's fingers, slick, hot and wet. Her legs shook uncontrollably as she came.

And in that moment, her entire body seemed to be nothing but a support system for the explosion of heat between her legs.

Not for the first time, Rosanna collapsed against the leggy blonde musician, barely staying upright as her body failed her.

Looking like the cat who'd got the cream, Taylor took her drenched fingers out of Rosanna's knickers, and gave them a cartoonishly lascivious lick.

"Mmm", she purred. "They should sell this as a Ben & Jerry's flavour, it's delicious".

Rosanna giggled breathlessly. "I want to feel you too, Taylor".

And she reached for the taller blonde woman and drew her head down for a deep kiss.

Rosanna's hands scrabbled at the back of Taylor's demure dress, tugging the zip down all the way to her waist.

As one shoulder fell away the dress exposed Taylor's right boob, jiggling fleshily in a dark blue bra. Rosanna grabbed it with her left hand and squeezed it through the soft lace. Taylor moaned a little as her hard little nipple met Rosanna's palm.

But just as quickly as she had attacked her lover before, Taylor pulled away, and readjusted her clothing. She frowned apologetically and more than a little regretfully.

"Not here Rosanna, OK, I'm sorry. I know it sounds awful but I can't run the risk of getting caught".

"That hardly seems fair! You just fingered me in my office!" Rosanna said, genuinely indignant.

"I'll make it up to you when we get to my place this evening. Promise! You can have me however you want. We can do anything. Everything!"

"But we do actually need to discuss my copyright issues- this is, like, a real business meeting after all!"

Rosanna glanced at the clock on the boardroom- 11.06. She had been kissed, fingered, fucked, and seemingly rejected, all in the space of a little over five minutes.

"I see how you manage to write so many songs now," she said drily. "very efficient".

Zipping up her trousers and adjusting her irredeemably soaked knickers, Rosanna attempted to compose herself. Rebuttoning her damaged blouse as best she could, she hoped that her jacket would hide the missing button sufficiently to prevent her flashing her lingerie to the entire third floor. She picked up her yellow A4 legal pad from the floor, and placed it on the table.

Taylor giggled, and sat on the nearest chair, crossing her legs elegantly. Her cat-like eyes flashed with undisguised mischief. "It smells of sex in here, Rosanna!"

Rosanna took on a firm, almost prosecutorial tone, her professional mien betrayed by her still sex-flushed face and messy black hair.

"So, Ms Sjöberg. Shall we get started?"
 
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DarkSwordsman

Re: Dress (Taylor Swift)
« Reply #2 on: June 19, 2021, 08:09:37 AM »
Great work, a top notch girl on girl story. Hoping Dua will appear in a future chapter but I’m looking forward to further instalments either way. Good job :Y:
Check out my Patreon if you like my work: https://patreon.com/DarkSwordsman
 

Slyguy

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Re: Dress (Taylor Swift)
« Reply #3 on: June 19, 2021, 03:00:50 PM »
Glad you've found your way over the site!  Welcome and thanks for posting!  These two chapters are fantastic reading (especially for Taylor fans) and I can't wait to read more!
 

thedemba2

Re: Dress (Taylor Swift)
« Reply #4 on: June 20, 2021, 02:30:57 PM »
Great read, can't wait for chapter 3
 
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elodiegirlie

Re: Dress (Taylor Swift)
« Reply #5 on: June 20, 2021, 03:51:41 PM »
This is the longest, and hopefully filthiest installment yet! I think there will be at least one more chapter after this, perhaps more.


Dress (Chapter 3)


The lift doors slid soundlessly shut, as Rosanna stepped out of the plush luxury of the Mandarin Oriental’s lobby. As she was whisked to the fourth floor, she checked herself over in the full-length mirror.

Hair? A little messy but manageable. Make-up? Fixed hurriedly in the Aitchison Maitland bathroom before catching her taxi. Clothes? Her suit would do, but the missing button on her blouse did mean her top had become somewhat gaping.

Rosanna felt mildly peeved that she had not had an opportunity to head home and change into something a little more appropriate for an A-list rendezvous.

Her stomach fluttered as she knocked hesitantly on the suite door. She hadn’t seen Taylor since the American pop star had swept imperiously out of the conference room at the end of their meeting, leaving Rosanna with a pile of notes to review (or realistically, hand off to one of her juniors to research).

Taylor had maintained a perfectly icy demeanour as she left- giving no inclination to Rosanna’s colleagues that anything had passed between them in the privacy of the conference room.

Indeed so successful had this ploy proved, that the receptionist had remarked that Taylor had seemed ‘a bit of a cold fish’. Rosanna had agreed out of politeness.

Then, the hotel door opened, and swung open to reveal Taylor Swift in all her boudoir splendour.

Rosanna’s eyes widened as she drank in the sight. “Oh fuck!”

“Hey, lover”.

*****

Taylor was wearing quite the sexiest set of black lingerie that Rosanna had ever seen, at least, in the flesh. The lacy balconette bra pushed her boobs up into a pair of perfect orbs, framed in delicate frills. The knickers were a pair of Brazilian-cut briefs, intricately lacy with a cute little bow on the waistband at the front. Taylor wore thigh-high hold up stockings and a vertiginous pair of Louboutins that must have pushed her to well over six feet tall.

Her long blonde hair was already artfully dishevelled, and her lips sported a vivid red slash of lipstick. Taylor’s slender legs looked impossibly long.
Rosanna giggled as she accepted a flute of champagne from Taylor, along with a delicate peck on the cheek.

“You look absolutely stunning, babe”.

“Thank you!”, Taylor dimpled prettily, then bobbed a mock curtsey. “Now you sit...yes, there, that chair. You sit there, and I’ll give you a little performance”.

Rosanna shrugged off her jacket and laid it over the back of the chair. “Ready when you are, Miss International Superstar”.

Taylor stuck her tongue out, before pressing a button on the remote control behind her, cueing a jazzy soundtrack.

“Not one of your songs?” giggled Rosanna, sipping her champagne.

“You can make me sing later...” Taylor replied, as she began to sway her hips to the rhythm of the music.

Rosanna settled in the chair, absent-mindedly undoing the button on her trousers.

Taylor shimmied and swayed, strutted and swooped, showing off her full portfolio of moves. Rosanna had never been to a strip club, but she imagined that this might be what you’d get from a lap dance. And she enjoyed it immensely.

“Thrilled to have front-row seats at Taylor Swift’s Stripper Tour,” Rosanna smirked.

Taylor raised one stiletto clad foot and placed it on the chair between Rosanna’s legs. Rosanna leant forward, and laid a trail of tender, insistent kisses up the inside Taylor’s stocking-clad thigh. But as she reached the unbearably soft white skin centimetres from Taylor’s black knickers, the singer abruptly pulled back.

Rosanna groaned.

“Taylor, I’m going to explode if I can’t touch you properly”.

“We have all night, lover, I’m going to torment you a little bit more first”.

Taylor snatched Rosanna’s champagne glass and took a long sip. She leant down, her mouth still full of Dom Perignon, and pressed her lips to Rosanna’s. Rosanna eagerly sucked at Taylor’s mouth yet despite her keenness a substantial amount of sparkling wine still stained the front of her blouse.

“Oops!” Taylor said in mock concern.

“Don’t waste it- it’s nice!” said Rosanna.

Taylor lowered her head and licked the sticky booze from Rosanna’s collarbone.

“I’ll get the rest later”.

Rosanna stripped off her wet blouse, leaving her boobs exposed in their lacy nude bra. She was aching, desperate for another touch from Taylor.
Taylor stroked a hand across each breast, feeling her lover’s nipples throb through the fabric. With one hand she undid Rosanna’s bra to leave her bare-chested and desperate in the chair in front of her.

“You can take those trousers off too if you like?”

“I thought you were the stripper here, not me!”

Taylor giggled. “In my strip club, we like our customers naked as well”.

Rosanna wriggled her trousers down, a dark damp patch at the front of her insubstantial white knickers showing just how much she wanted Taylor.
Taylor spun, and issued a seductive glare back over her shoulder. Rosanna’s eyes locked onto her lover’s lace-clad buttocks. She bit her lip in frustration.

Taylor elegantly lowered herself backwards onto Rosanna and began to grind her voluptuous bottom onto the young lawyer’s lap.
Rosanna’s hips ground back in response.

The feeling of Taylor’s perfect arse pressing against Rosanna’s mound was almost unbearable.

Rosanna moaned. “I’m going to have to touch myself”.

“Not yet, lover, not yet”, drawled Taylor. “Why don’t you take my panties off instead”.

Rosanna didn’t need a second invitation. She rolled the black lace down the curve of Taylor’s round bum, then let them fall down her long legs to the soft carpet.

She squeezed the two exquisite globes in front of her.

“How are you this perfect?”

Taylor turned around, and Rosanna saw her naked cunt for the first time. It was immaculate. Delicate pale pink pussy lips, framed above with a light dusting of light blonde hair. It promised heaven.

She threw one leg over Rosanna’s and began to slide back and forth along her thigh. Rosanna clasped her tight, urging her on.

Taylor’s breath grew shorter and more ragged as she rode Rosanna’s leg towards orgasm.

Rosanna managed to fumble Taylor’s black bra loose and buried her face in her pert breasts. Her mouth caught one of Taylor’s dusky pink nipples and she sucked it – hard.

Taylor screamed.

Her pussy ground uncontrollably against Rosanna and her entire body shook as she crashed past the point of no return.

“AAAAHHHHHH” she wailed into the other girl’s ear at a deafening volume, her hands reflexively gripping two handfuls of Rosanna’s dark hair.

And she collapsed across Rosanna in a sweaty, quivering, orgasmic heap of limbs.

A moment passed, that felt like an age.

Taylor opened her stunning blue eyes, her face flushed with satisfaction.

“Oh wow. Oh wow wow wow. That was intense. Amaaazing”, she said, drawing out the middle syllable for emphasis.

“You’re amazing,” Rosanna countered.

“Thank you. But I’m just getting started. BED. NOW.”

*****

The two girls stumbled from the suite lounge to the bed, and eagerly completed undressing each other. Rosanna slipped off Taylor’s bra, Taylor yanked down Rosanna’s underwear and threw it over her shoulder onto the floor.

Taylor held her naked lover’s hands above her head while she kissed her enthusiastically. She pressed her thigh between Rosanna’s legs and pinned her flat on her back.

Rosanna purred at the display of dominance. “You’ll be tying me up next! I don’t suppose you brought handcuffs with you?”

“I’m a musician, not a police officer!”

Taylor fumbled behind her on the bed and found her discarded black bra. She looped the straps around Rosanna’s wrists and tied it in a tight knot.
“Well, if the Mandarin Oriental won’t provide handcuffs on room service I’ll just have to improvise”.

“Oh very creative. A bit like when you stuffed my knickers in my mouth the other night”.

“‘Knickers’”, Taylor laughed. “You Brits are adorable”.

And with that, she clamped her mouth over Rosanna’s cunt.

Rosanna, wound up to the very brink by the slutty lap dance, nearly exploded with pleasure there and then.

Taylor continued eating her out with delight, as Rosanna thrashed and wriggled underneath her. The muscular tanned thighs squeezed tight as one of the most famous mouths in pop music devoted itself to enthusiastic cunnilingus.

“So close, so close”, muttered Rosanna repeatedly. She ground her hips into Taylor’s face.

Rosanna climaxed long and hard, smearing Taylor’s make-up with her musky cunt-juices and soaking the expensive cotton bedsheets.

And fell back, sated.

*****

Rosanna lay sprawled on her back, in a naked, sweaty heap.

“I’ve hardly seen any of your suite yet. Show a girl the shower?”

Taylor kissed Rosanna on her flushed forehead. “Come on then, I might even let you soap me up”.

Rosanna held up her hands wryly, they were still tied together with Taylor’s bra. “Little help please?”

After they’d undone the improvised bindings, Taylor led Rosanna to the spacious walk-in shower and turned on the water jets.

Taylor stripped off her stockings, as Rosanna applied the hotel’s frankly excellent free shower gel.

She then took it upon herself to apply most of the bottle to Taylor’s gym-toned body, ensuring soap found its way into every delightful crease and crack.

The two girls began to gently make out under the water, as it washed away the sweat and juices from their sex.

As the hot water cascaded over them, Rosanna and Taylor instinctively found each other with their fingers, and began to masturbate each other. But they were frustrated by the slippery surface and tiles, not quite able to get a purchase without overbalancing.

“Fuck, I bet I’d get there quicker if I was a man”, complained Taylor.

“Come on, let’s get out”, Rosanna said desperately. “We can clean up later!”

Taylor stepped out of the shower, solicitously taking Rosanna’s hand.

Rosanna, stark naked, left the bathroom, and wiggled her bottom provocatively at Taylor as she walked into the lounge.

“I feel like I’ve not taken advantage of your frankly gorgeous ass, sweet Rosanna”.

Rosanna smiled. “You’re relentless, Tay. What do you want me to do?”

“Get on that couch and I’ll show you.”

Rosanna obediently took up a position on all fours, with her round arse high in the air. “Like this?”

“Perfect”.

Taylor planted a kiss on Rosanna’s left bum cheek, then the right. Then, carefully spreading the tanned buttocks, she stiffened her tongue and jabbed it insistently against Rosanna’s arsehole.

“Oh!” A little jolt of electricity ran through Rosanna’s body.

Taylor giggled. “You’re yummy”.

And she ran a long, slow, languorous stroke of her tongue from the base of Rosanna’s spine, all the way down between her spread cheeks and to the dark intimacy of her puckered little star.

“I could eat this delicious ass for days”.

“I could let you”.

Taylor slurped eagerly at Rosanna’s musky arse, relishing the intimacy of the act.

And began to rub Rosanna’s clit from behind in tight concentric circles.

Rosanna gripped the arm of the couch with both hands as she was fucked on all fours.

The combined pressure of Taylor’s unerring fingers and her anally-fixated tongue tipped Rosanna over the edge to another gushing orgasm on the low sofa.

Rosanna slumped face down into an exhausted little puddle.

“Christ how do you do that to me Taylor?”

Taylor giggled. “Come on and cuddle me in bed, I don’t know what they charge to replace the furniture here and I don’t care to find out”.

*****

Rosanna, a little weak-kneed and unsteady, wrapped a fluffy white towel around herself, and sat with her back against the headboard of the bed. She picked up her phone from the side table and began typing out a text message.

“Let me just tell The Boyfriend I’ll be working late”.

“Sure, sure.”

Just as Rosanna was about to send the message, her phone chirped into life.

“Hi babe...No, my bad. Horror day on the new contract...No, I’ll get some food here and get a taxi. Yeah, second time this week, at least I won’t be hungover, haha”.

Taylor stood naked at the end of the bed, tangled wet hair falling messily down to her shoulders. She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively at Rosanna and began to slowly but insistently rub between her long legs.

“Stop that!” mouthed Rosanna, in mock annoyance.

Taylor shrugged sassily.

She climbed onto the bed and indicated that Rosanna should part her thighs.

Rosanna shook her head. Taylor nodded hers.

Rosanna just about held it together as Taylor ran two hands up her thigh and grabbed her hips.

“Yeah, absolutely. I’ll - ah- text when I’m on my way home”.

She did not quite hold it together when Taylor gave her pussy a long, slow, feline lick.

“AH!” she gasped.

Taylor looked up, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Yeah I’m fine babe, just a bit of a sore neck from staring at a screen,” Rosanna managed to choke out.

Taylor licked again, harder this time.

“OK OK, speak soon. Love you. Bye!”

As soon as she’d hung up, Rosanna threw a pillow at Taylor. “You are a naughty bitch, Taylor Swift!”

Taylor giggled as she crawled up and kissed Rosanna soundly. “I just like taking good care of my girl.” Her fingers parted Rosanna’s aching pussy lips. “And you seem to be enjoying it...”

Rosanna closed her eyes and moaned. “What I really need right now is something inside me. I don’t suppose you’ve got a dildo stashed away somewhere?”

“Hmm, let me see what I can conjure.”

Rosanna watched Taylor’s lanky naked body bent over to rifle through a suitcase, her pretty pink pussy visible from behind.

“Damn, I don’t think I do. Buuuut...” Taylor turned round, holding up one of her red-soled Louboutins. “Ta da!”

“You’re going to fuck me with... a shoe?” Rosanna sounded a little sceptical, though the electric tingle between her legs seemed to have different ideas.

“It’s a very NICE shoe,” Taylor said, delicately sliding a condom over the long point. She sucked it thoughtfully. “Not quite as good as the real thing but it’ll do the job!”

“Well OK, slowly though”.

And Taylor began to fuck her with Monsieur Louboutin’s iconic creation.

First with gentle little circles, then as Rosanna begin to respond deeper more purposeful strokes.

It wasn’t long before Rosanna was whimpering and wriggling under Taylor’s ministrations, as the expensive shoe slid vigorously in and out of her sopping wet pussy.

As she came, she let out an almost deafening scream, and jets of musky fluid squirted out of her, soaking Taylor’s arm and the shoe in her hand.
Taylor giggled. “I think you owe me a new pair of Loubies”.

“Call it evens for what you did to my blouse!”

The girls shared a languid, satisfied kiss, and allowed their eyes to close.

*****

Rosanna and Taylor dozed for a couple of hours, locked in a sweaty embrace.

After a while, Rosanna stirred.

“Can I ask you something, Taylor?”

“Sure.”

“So I’m probably not as up with my celeb news as some people, but I’m pretty sure you have a boyfriend, right? What’s the deal there?”

Taylor shrugged. “We’re busy people, we have interests outside of each other. I adore Joe, and it keeps the gossip columnists happy. Why do you ask?”

Rosanna kissed Taylor’s collarbone. “Curious. Jealous. Well, I won’t talk about mine if you don’t talk about yours!”

“Deal!”

“Did you see the pretty receptionist downstairs, by the way?” Taylor asked. “I think she was maybe Italian or something?”

“I’ll level with you, I was pretty speedy on my way through the lobby. I felt like an escort!”

“Ha! Worth every penny! Ah, she was cute though. She said I looked like an American singer”.

“Clearly not hired for her powers of deduction then”.

“Here, come with me”.

Taylor took Rosanna’s hand and led her to the floor-to-ceiling windows. “Do you like the view?”

Rosanna looked out on the evening lights of West London.

“Knightsbridge? It’s OK? Bit boring?”

Taylor’s eyes flashed dangerously. “Oh, it’s boring is it?” And she firmly pushed Rosanna up against the glass, flattening her bare tits against it.

“Fuck Taylor, there’s people down there!”

“Yeah, but they can’t see me, can they? Put your hands flat on the glass and spread your legs for me”.

Her head still a little foggy from the constant flow of orgasms, Rosanna threw caution to the wind and obeyed. The cold glass, slippery under her hands, teased her dark nipples into rock-hard little points.

Taylor slid a hand between Rosanna’s legs, cupping her pussy mound and unerringly finding her lover’s clit. “I hope you’re ready to put on a show.”
And she began to rub in tight, insistent little circles.

Rosanna moaned and wriggled, her breath shortening as she approached yet another climax.

“Are you close”, Taylor growled in her ear.

“So fucking close”.

And with that, Taylor withdrew her fingers. Then pushed open the balcony door and steered her nude lover out into the cool night air.
The busy sound of London traffic was suddenly everywhere.

“Oh fuck, this is too much Taylor, we’re going to get caught”.

“Aren’t you a lawyer, Rosanna? We’ll get away with it. I want it too much to stop now!”

And she dragged Rosanna down to the ground with her.

The two women ground desperately against each other on the bare concrete, kissing deeply.

As they fucked in the open air, the heavens opened and cold rain crashed over them.

They didn’t care.

Four floors below them, pedestrians walked by cluelessly. Had they looked up, the might have caught a glimpse of wriggling flesh, a stray foot poking through the iron latticework.

If the noise of the rain and the road hadn’t drowned it out, they might even have heard a certain Taylor Swift scream her pleasure out into the London night.

The Emirati sheikh occupying the suite to the left grunted with irritation at the noise from next door, and ostentatiously closed the heavy curtains to block out the sound.

Taylor and Rosanna ground together, every inch of skin seeming to be transformed into a new erogenous zone under the intensity of their mutual passion.

Their soaked bodies mingled as one and melted together into what felt like an endless simultaneous orgasm.

*****

Rosanna lay on the bed, legs entwined with Taylor’s. She reached for her phone.

“Jesus Taylor, it’s nearly five a.m.  I need to get home so I can get into the office again in a fit state”.

“Fine,” Taylor pouted prettily, “But you’ll see me again this weekend?”

“Count on it!” said Rosanna gamely, as she scrambled out of bed and searched for her discarded clothes. Her bra was saveable, and her blouse was wrinkled but adequate for a walk-of-shame, despite the spilled champagne.

Unfortunately her knickers were just a drenched ball of wadded-up lace. With a regretful sigh Rosanna dropped them into her bag, before pulling on her trousers.

“Ooh, give me them!” Taylor said. “I might want to dress up as a buttoned-up corporate attorney”.

“Fuck off,” Rosanna replied sweetly, throwing the panties to Taylor. “Now come kiss me goodbye like a good little housewife”.

Naked, Taylor rolled out of bed, and sashayed over to Rosanna. She grabbed a handful of Rosanna’s hair and pulled her in for the longest, deepest, wettest kiss of their entire night.

“Bye bye lover. Text me if you get bored at work”.

Rosanna went to open the door. Just as she reached for the lock, she felt Taylor grab her arm.

“Actually...”

And Taylor yanked at the button of Rosanna’s trousers, pulling it from its fastening and exposing Rosanna’s furred mound.

Before Rosanna could protest Taylor’s fingers were in her pussy again, frigging her to one last shuddering, knee shaking orgasm up against the hotel suite door, as Taylor nibbled and sucked at her neck.

***
Rosanna slumped in the taxi, in an exhausted but well-fucked stupor. As the cab rolled through early morning London she felt like she was returning to earth.

The light drizzle of rain on the window seemed to deliver a dose of cold, hard reality.

This was insane. It wasn’t healthy. The sex was mind-blowing, the risks were intolerable. But Taylor was just...bewitching.
But it couldn’t go on.

She would tell Taylor it was over. She had to.

*****

To be continued. In Chapter 4, life gets a little more complicated for Rosanna.
« Last Edit: June 20, 2021, 04:00:29 PM by elodiegirlie »
 
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MaxwellLord

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Re: Dress (Taylor Swift)
« Reply #6 on: June 20, 2021, 08:12:59 PM »
Always a pleasure to see another Swift author contribute, though the story itself is a pleasure all on its own. Hot sex and absolutely loved the little Swiftie easter eggs, especially Taylor's alias.
 

elodiegirlie

Re: Dress (Taylor Swift)
« Reply #7 on: June 21, 2021, 02:26:37 PM »
Thank you all so much for your very kind comments- and I'm glad the easter eggs are finding approval. I like to keep things entertaining for my fellow fans in between all the filth!
 
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Re: Dress (Taylor Swift)
« Reply #8 on: June 21, 2021, 06:16:31 PM »
Another excellent chapter, the action just kept going and going!  And that bit with the shoe, never read that before in a story to my recollection, so props to you on creativity!
 

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Re: Dress (Taylor Swift)
« Reply #9 on: October 24, 2021, 09:34:27 AM »
Great Chapter 3. I've never thought Taylor is as straight as she would have us believe. Your writing is very good and the sex is super horny. Look forward to Chapter 4. I understand Taylor spends alot of time in London with her Boyfriend, so perhaps your paths may cross. Could you every imagine actually meeting her, perhaps flirting or even making a pass at her?
All hail Emma Raducanu.
All hail Sarina Wiegman.
 

elodiegirlie

Re: Dress (Taylor Swift)
« Reply #10 on: October 26, 2021, 05:17:12 AM »
Some recurring themes and interests here with a bit of a call back to Rosanna and Taylor's first encounter. I think it'll keep building towards a wedding chapter, so definitely much more to come. Any ideas, suggestions, etc. very much welcome...

Dress (Chapter 4)


The log fire in the dining room at Clos Maggiore crackled and hissed as Greg took Rosanna's hands between his and looked deep into her green eyes.

"I suppose, Rosanna, what I'm trying to say is, will you do me the honour of marrying me?"

Rosanna blushed.

"Yes, of course, you silly man. What took you so long!"

And leaning forward across the table, Rosanna kissed Greg hard and deep.

***

Rosanna had of course expected this. "London's most romantic restaurant" was a bit obvious, even by Greg's standards. 

So she had primped, and preened, and manicured everything in sight, to make sure she looked absolutely *perfect* for the big moment.

She was again wearing her favourite pink Hervé Léger dress, which clung to her voluptuous body like an infatuated lover. 

Anticipating an evening of celebratory post-engagement sex, underneath she wore a slinky pair of lace knickers, in a dark burgundy colour, and a matching bra so sheer that it served more as ornament than concealment.

This was going to be a good night.

Engagement, forward progress, pushing her dangerous liaison with Taylor behind her, and moving on to a happy future with the man she almost certainly loved.

Leaning forward across the table, she made sure Greg got an eyeful of her cleavage.

"I can't wait to get you home, Mr. Future Husband" she purred. "I'm going to give you the best b--"

***

"I'm very sorry to interrupt Sir, Madam," the waiter said apologetically. "But one of the other tables saw your happy moment and asked me to bring this, with their compliments."

And he placed a bottle of 2002 Dom Perignon in the ice bucket by their table.

"Oh how lovely!", exclaimed Rosanna. "Will you point them out so that I can thank them?"

The waiter gestured towards the other side of the room, where a blonde couple sat.

Rosanna's breath caught for a second.

"Is that who I think it is?" hissed Greg.

Rosanna sighed. "You know what, I think it might be."
 
***

"I can't believe you two know each other," said Greg in wonder. He turned to Rosanna. "I really thought that might be the sort of thing you'd mention in passing," he said with mock severity.

 

"At Aitchison Maitland we treat the confidentiality of our clients with the utmost importance", Rosanna said prissily.

"She really is sooo professional," Taylor interjected.

Taylor's boyfriend, Joe, chipped in. "Taylor never tells me anything either, just 'go here', 'go there', and I follow like an obedient puppy".

"I am taking notes", giggled Rosanna.

Draining her glass of champagne, Taylor stood up abruptly from the table. 

"Will you excuse us for just one moment?" Taylor smiled. "Joe, you and Greg can talk about rugby or whatever you London boys like".

Turning on her heel, the leggy pop star strutted away towards the ladies' room, her pert bum wiggling through her short black dress.

Rosanna offered a helpless, foolish, grin in the direction of her fiancé. Then she obediently followed Taylor to the bathroom.

***

Taylor closed the bathroom door, and bolted it. Rosanna stood in the stiflingly hot little room, with her back against the sink. 

"God, you look good enough to eat in that dress", Taylor growled.

"Thanks, that's very sweet of you to say. But-"

"But I'm angry with you, Rosanna. You can't just text me and end things like you did."

Taylor cast around for the right words. 

"It was just...so casually cruel? It hurt me."

"I'm sorry Taylor, truly I am. I suppose I just thought it was easier this way. Cleaner? So we could both move on. You've got Joe, I've got Greg, you know?"

Taylor looked meaningfully at Rosanna. "I've told you before, Joe isn't for you to concern yourself with."

"Well, what about Greg then? I'm going to marry him for fuck's sake! Getting caught in a lesbian affair with an international pop star probably would put a bit of a dampener on proceedings, don't you think?" 

Taylor laughed.

"I don't want to speculate about your lovely husband-to-be, but I don't think he fucks you the way I do."

"There's more to a good relationship than sex, Taylor!"

"Prove it."

And lunging forward, she pressed Rosanna back against the sink.

Her mouth swooped in, and those iconic red lips halted millimetres from Rosanna's. 

"I can stop any time you like. You just have to say the word." Taylor breathed, her voice thick with desire.

Rosanna's heart pounded a million miles an hour, as she drank in the scent of Taylor's floral perfume.

She felt a familiar twinge between her legs.

"Taylor?"

"Yes Rosanna?"

"Just fuck me".

***
Rosanna stood with her legs akimbo, and her hands gripping the bathroom sink behind her.

The expensive Hervé Léger dress was rucked up around her waist, as Taylor's fingers went to work inside her burgundy-coloured knickers. 

The American singer worked on Rosanna's aching clit with her thumb. Her long ring and middle fingers curled into the humid, damp cave between Rosanna's legs, and pushed deep inside.

Taylor's blue eyes sparkled as she roughly finger-fucked her cheating lover.

Rosanna threw her head back and gasped, rocking her hips back and forth. She felt warm breath on her neck and arched her back.

Taylor's immaculate white teeth nibbled at Rosanna's tanned neck, as she frigged her hard. As Rosanna squeaked and whimpered under Taylor's fingers, her lover imitated her sharp little moans, part mockingly, part provocatively.

A slick patina of sweat covered Rosanna’s bright scarlet face and neck, as the combination of heat and desire overwhelmed her.

When her climax came it was tight and intense. A lightning bolt of heat and pleasure flashing from her clit, to the tips of her toes, and to the top of her head. Her cunt clenched tight around Taylor's fingers as her knickers flooded with moisture.
 
Rosanna let out a guttural moan from the pit of her stomach as she sprawled back against the sink.

She opened her eyes and saw her gleeful lover grinning at her.

"You see? No man can do that to you..."

***

Weak and wobbly from her orgasm, Rosanna pushed Taylor back so that she was sitting on the lid of the toilet. 

"Pull up your dress" she insisted.

Taylor obliged, revealing the full length of her tanned legs, in all their glory. At the top of her impossible perfect thighs was a tiny pink thong, decorated with two pretty red bows, with a sheer panel at the front.

Rosanna buried her face into Taylor's crotch, her nose and mouth pressed against the sopping lace underwear. She inhaled the scent of her lover's cunt, greedily. Her tongue rasped across the intricate lace. 

Taylor smelt like heaven, like sin, like lust, like true love, all in one intoxicating blend.

Rosanna tugged Taylor's pink knickers down her endless legs, and tossed them carelessly at her blonde lover.

Taylor smirked. "These are Agent Provocateur, treat them nicely!" 

And she delicately looped the thong over Rosanna's head and settled it around her neck, as if she was presenting an Olympic medal.

Rosanna looked up lustfully, before burying her tongue in Taylor's desperate pussy.

"FUCK!" Taylor shrieked, as her lover begin to relentlessly lick and slurp at her sex.

As Taylor wriggled and bucked, almost horizontal on the toilet seat, Rosanna wet her index finger on Taylor's cunt juices, and slid it into the dark pucker of her arse.

Taylor's eyes went wide as she breathlessly gasped "ROSANNA!". 

Rosanna smirked internally as she fingered one of the world's most celebrated derrieres, the toilet seat clanking as her tongue lashed Taylor Swift's clit. The tight muscle of Taylor's bum squeezed relentlessly around her penetrating digit.

"Fuck Rosanna, fuck, that's so good. Fuck my ass", came the drawling American demand. She spread her lissom limbs as wide as they could go.

Rosanna, unable to reply, redoubled her efforts with fingers and tongue, the musky taste of Taylor's pussy driving her to heady new heights of urgency.

Almost as quickly as Rosanna's, Taylor's orgasm arrived, announcing itself in a sweaty, squealing fanfare.

Taylor gave a high-pitched wail as fluid gushed from her pussy, dousing Rosanna's face. Her heels beat spasmodically against the tiled floor. Her hips shook and shivered as orgasm crashed over her. Her arse gripped Rosanna's finger like a vice.

Rosanna raised her head, lipstick smeared with sex juices. 

"I love it when you sing for me", she giggled.

Taylor, red-faced and dishevelled, responded with an open mouthed, sluttish kiss, gleefully tasting her own cunt from Rosanna's mouth.

***

Taylor collapsed onto the hard tiled floor, pulling Rosanna down with her. 

"Fuck, fuck fuck I just want you Rosanna. I want all of you". A desperate hand found its way into the lacy waistband of Rosanna's briefs and slid them down over her bum. 

"One sec!" laughed Rosanna, slipping her panties down to her ankles and pulling one leg out. 

"There we are."

Taylor's hands found their way to the zip at the back of Rosanna's dress and tugged it down. As the dress fell around Rosanna's waist her bra cups slipped a little, exposing two pert brown nipples.

Rosanna giggled. Taylor growled, delivering a sharp tug on each one with her fingers. 

"I can't get enough of your boobs, your nipples are amazing". She lowered her head and kissed each of them solicitously. And then a little more firmly.

Rosanna groaned as Taylor Swift suckled on her throbbing nipples.

"I think I could come again just from that". 

Taylor giggled. "Maybe when we have a bit longer to play. But the boys will be wondering where we've got to. It's hot in here, help me with my dress."

So Rosanna grasped the hem of Taylor's dress and dragged it over her head.

She grabbed the American singer's pert boobs through her sheer pink bra, and squeezed them firmly. "I can't get enough of your tits either, Taylor."

"Any time you want them sweetheart. Now get your leg over here, I want to feel you against me."

Wriggling into position, the two women pressed against each other, hips rubbing in awkward circles. Then, slightly less awkward circles, as they built up a co-ordinated rhythm.

As the lovers ground against each other, their sweaty bodies slipped and slid, and they moaned in unison. Rosanna's knickers slipped off her ankle and onto the wet floor.

Tribbing like two bitches in heat, Rosanna and Taylor's bodies felt as one.

Taylor grabbed a handful of the thong hanging from Rosanna's neck and tugged tight, using it for purchase as the two women fucked on the floor of the bathroom. Neither gave a thought to the sordid surroundings as they kissed deep with clashing tongues. 

Every time their cunts slid together it felt like another pint of fluid doused the already slick floor. Taylor's bright blue eyes took on a slightly manic quality as she ground her way towards another orgasm. 

Rosanna pressed her wet forehead against Taylor's in a refusal to break eye contact.

Taylor gripped the improvised choker in a tighter grip, twisting it in her fist. 

Taylor ascended to heady new heights of disinhibition. Wiping her fingers across the sopping floor she slid them into Rosanna’s mouth. Her lover sucked on them greedily, relishing their combined fluids.

As the tangled pink lace constricted tighter around her neck Rosanna came again, her pleasure doubled by the incredible intimacy of the floor-bound fuck-fest. 

Light-headed and sated again, she collapsed into Taylor's arms.

***

The two women paused to breathe, a sweaty heap of tangled limbs on the floor of the ladies' bathroom.

"Oh Christ. Oh my!" Rosanna managed to offer.

Taylor was first to get up. She tugged her black jersey dress back into place, then picked up the damp scrap of burgundy lace that had poorly covered Rosanna's modesty. She twirled the sopping wet underwear around on her finger theatrically.

"Ooh, another present for me!" 

"Can I have those back please?" Rosanna asked sweetly from the floor.

"Umm....no." Taylor pouted in return. "You can have mine," she said, gesturing towards the panties hanging from Rosanna's neck. 

"Taylor!" hissed Rosanna. "I just got engaged. Greg and I are probably going to have sex when we get home. Your knickers, pretty though they are, do not match my bra!"

Taylor giggled, pulling Rosanna's panties up her long legs. "You're a smart girl, you'll work it out. You might want to give your make-up a bit of a touch up as well!"

And she dabbed her face and neck delicately with a screwed up paper towel.

Rosanna glanced at herself in the mirror, rueing the sight of her ruined make-up. "If you hadn't made such a mess..." 

"You loved every minute of it", Taylor pouted. "Now, more importantly, am I invited to your wedding?"

***

Having applied some emergency running repairs to conceal the worst of their slutty bathroom activities, Rosanna and Taylor returned to the restaurant arm-in-arm.

“There you are!” Greg said. “We were about to send out search parties!”

“I’m not sure breaking into the ladies’ toilets is quite the romantic gesture you think it is”, laughed Rosanna.

The two couples enjoyed the rest of the champagne, gossiping idly about wedding plans. After an hour, Joe made a meaningful gesture in the direction of his watch.

Taylor picked up on his signal.

“Right Joe, let’s leave the love birds to it!” Taylor said lightly. 

She kissed Greg politely on the cheek, then pulled Rosanna close for a hug.

Brushing her lips against Rosanna’s cheek, she whispered in her ear.

“Text me. I’ll be thinking of you.”

Rosanna felt a twinge of jealousy as she saw Taylor and Joe stroll towards the door. She whispered something in Joe’s ear, which led him to pull her closer, and one of his hands strayed from round her waist to rest lightly on her rear.

“Quite a night!” Greg exclaimed. “Engagement, Taylor Swift, 2002 Dom…”

Rosanna forced a smile, which she hoped looked enticing rather than wan.

“It’s not over yet, Mr. Fiancé”. 

***

It was later.

Rosanna straddled Greg in the taxi, kissing him deeply as the cab driver surreptitiously perved on them in the rear-view mirror. Her expensive bodycon dress rode up over her bum revealing a flash of pink lacy thong, aided by a tug from Greg.   

As she ground her crotch against Greg's straining erection through his trousers, his hands snaked under the dress to encourage her. Her pussy, barely covered by Taylor’s borrowed knickers, ached again to be touched, stroked, filled.

At that moment a twinge of regret entered her head. She wished it was Taylor's skilled fingers kneading her bum cheeks, rather than Greg's clumsy paws. She wanted Taylor to spread her thighs on the back seat of the cab and lick her to a debauched public orgasm.

She sighed a little to herself, passing it off as a lustful moan. For all Greg knew, she was horny as sin and ready for a night of athletic fucking. As her fingers scrabbled for the zip of his trousers, she mentally imagined herself stripping Taylor again, rather than her man.

But it was ok. Greg would do, at least for now. They were engaged! 

He was Mr. Perfectly Fine.
 
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Peronath

Re: Dress (Taylor Swift)
« Reply #11 on: October 26, 2021, 06:24:07 PM »
So much to enjoy with this. It's playful, fun exceeding sultry and that touch of the wicked added in for good measure. Just a perfect combination!
 
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Slyguy

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Re: Dress (Taylor Swift)
« Reply #12 on: October 26, 2021, 07:45:19 PM »
This took a direction I wasn't expecting, but a welcome one that added a whole new layer to this hot and heavy pairing.  Keep up the fantastic work!
 
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Re: Dress (Taylor Swift)
« Reply #13 on: October 28, 2021, 07:28:09 PM »
Interesting twist and white hot sex. Great work.
 
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elodiegirlie

Re: Dress (Taylor Swift)
« Reply #14 on: November 02, 2021, 12:28:31 PM »
Felt inspired a couple of evenings this week, so I dashed off another fun encounter. Actually surprisingly little Taylor action in this one, (sorry guys), but Chapter 6 will make up for that I hope!

Dress (Chapter 5)

Rosanna’s phone buzzed, distracting her from the contract she was reviewing.

Glancing down at the notification, she saw the familiar ‘TS’.

Hey. Do you Brits have bachelorette parties? X

Rosanna picked up her phone and tapped out a reply.

Hey to you too. We call them hen parties, but yeah, same deal. Xx

Rosanna returned to her work.

The phone buzzed again.

Are there strippers? X

Rosanna smiled to herself.

There can be. Mainly in the hunky male line though. Xx

Oh. Can't have everything I guess. I have just the thing. Tell Greg you’re working late, I’ll pick you up at eight. Xx

Rosanna sighed wistfully. Seven hours to wait…

Her phone buzzed once more. A picture.

She tapped on the notification and revealed a close-up picture of some instantly recognisable red lips, pursed in a kiss.

***

Rosanna, having stopped in the partners’ bathroom to touch up her makeup, strutted confidently out of the office lobby towards the waiting cab. She was dressed in her buttoned-up lawyerly best, her dark grey tailored trouser suit matched with black stiletto heels.

The black door of the taxi opened, and Rosanna slid inside onto the leather seat.

“Hello lover”, Taylor said, kissing her lightly on the lips. “No dress for me today?”

“Hello. It’s a work day, as you well know!”

Rosanna kissed Taylor back, and instinctively found her toned thigh with a hand.
Taylor firmly removed it.

“Oh no, not tonight. It’s teasing only from me…” she purred.

Rosanna pouted prettily.

“That’s no fun.”

“Just you wait.”

And the car sped off into the London night.

***

By the time the car pulled up outside a black Georgian front door, in a deserted Mayfair side street, Rosanna was already exceedingly worked up.

For the entire half hour cab ride, Taylor had been licking and nibbling at her neck and her ear, whispering filthy fantasies and obscene suggestions into Rosanna's ear.

She had pawed, stroked and squeezed Rosanna every metre of the journey, raising her to a dripping wet frenzy.

Rosanna couldn't quite remember how many times she had begged Taylor to tear off her knickers and fuck her in the back of the taxi, but it must have been at least twenty or thirty.

She was almost relieved when Taylor skipped out of the taxi, and led her to the door.

"What is this place? I don't think I know it?"

"A club. A fun one. Trust me."

And in they went.

***
When Taylor had said "a club", Rosanna had pictured some plush private members' club.

This was not that. It was certainly plush, but it seemed staffed exclusively by willowy young women in complicated looking lingerie. Dotted through the main room were poles, and small stages, most of which were occupied by dancers in varying stages of undress.

"You've brought me to a strip club?" Rosanna giggled.

"Just wait and see. There's a little more too it than tha-Oh! There she is!"

Suddenly, Taylor waved across the room.

One of the waitresses waved back.

Rosanna's jaw dropped. The girl was heartbreakingly beautiful. Tall and willowy, with pale skin and long red hair, in a shade that couldn't possibly be natural. Her face was high cheekboned and recognisably Slavic. She wore a dark green lace bra, matching high cut briefs, black stockings, and a pair of vertiginous black heels. She had the bearing of a runway model, and a body that made Rosanna think deeply sinful thoughts.

"Is she..." Rosanna asked hesitantly.

"For you? Oh yes!"

Rosanna downed the rest of her wine. This was promising.

***

"Isn't she gorgeous?" Taylor crooned. "I asked for her specially. Her name is Irina, I think she's from Russia or Ukraine or something. Let me just go and handle the admin..."

And she swayed across the floor of the club towards Irina.

Rosanna watched as Taylor and Irina conversed quietly just out of earshot, Taylor occasionally giggling, Irina nodding thoughtfully.

In the background she saw other girls gyrating, almost all for the benefit of sallow, suited men in well-stuffed armchairs, leering greedily.

The atmosphere was heavy with sexual possibility.

Taylor and Irina walked over to Rosanna.

"Hello, I am Irina, and I will be hosting you this evening."

"Hello Irina, I'm Rosanna. Lovely to meet you."

"Your girlfriend has said we will go to private room," Irina said. "Please to follow me?"

Parting a heavy curtain she gestured for Taylor and Rosanna. The curtain concealed the entrance to a long, dimly lit corridor. As the leggy dancer swayed down the corridor, Rosanna admired her pert white rear, framed beautifully by the dark green lace of her briefs.

Taylor noticed this glance, and whispered, "she has such a great ass!", punctuating this opinion with a firm squeeze of Rosanna's own bum.

Irina stopped in front of a plain door, and opened it, ushering Rosanna and Taylor inside.

The door to the room clicked gently shut behind the three women. Irina gestured for Rosanna to sit on a leather bench by one wall, with Taylor on a second one, at right-angles to the first.

"You're not sitting next to me Tay?" Rosanna asked.

"Your girlfriend says she is to watch," Irina said firmly.

The room was tastefully uplit with small light fittings around the outside of the wall, giving it the air of an upmarket hotel lobby. Soft carpet covered the floor, and sultry, smoky jazz music played from a hidden speaker.

Taylor gestured at the corner of the room. "No cameras in here I see."

Irina raised an eyebrow meaningfully. "Private means private."

And she began to dance, swaying her hips provocatively in front of the seated Rosanna.

"God, she's beautiful", Rosanna thought to herself, as Irina undulated and strutted in front of her. If this was what a strip club was like, then maybe her ethical principles were worth suspending for an evening.

Irina's body flowed in perfect harmony with the music, every hip-shimmy and boob-wiggle tapping into an erotic dance as old as time.

Rosanna could feel her aching pussy's need, its heat and wetness and desperation to be touched. She wondered what the etiquette was here.

Her hand started to stray experimentally southwards, before Taylor grabbed it firmly.

Taylor leaned over and murmured. "Remember, we're being patient here. Just watch her first..."

Irina twisted and writhed, stroking her breasts through the sheer green material of her bra, nipples poking against the fabric. She tossed her dramatic mane of red hair from side to side, and thrust her hips towards Rosanna as she danced.

She bent forward in front of Rosanna, languidly stretching her arms down to the floor. Her perfect arse was just inches from Rosanna's face. Every frill of the lace along the edge of her knickers was perceptible. Her pale, toned derriere looked as if it was sculpted from marble.

A memory from Latin classes at school swam out of Rosanna's memory. Pygmalion.

And without even realising she was doing it, Rosanna reached forward and stroked Irina's arse.

Irina spun round like a scalded cat. "You are very bad girl!"

Taylor laughed. "She just can't resist you Irina."

Irina pouted in mock outrage. "I know how to make bad girls good."

She pressed a section of the wall near the door, and opened a concealed cupboard.

Reaching in, she held up two pairs of professional-looking handcuffs.

"I make this dance special for you, yes?"

"Ah, I don't know about this?", Rosanna said awkwardly, as Irina snapped the handcuff over her left wrist and attached the other end to a fixing on the wall.

"Just relax and enjoy yourself", Taylor purred. "I promise you'll love it. I know I did..."

The Russian stripper picked up the second pair of handcuffs and locked them firmly around Rosanna's other wrist. Rosanna was now thoroughly secured to the wall, her arms raised above her shoulders at a comfortable yet constrictive angle.

"Is comfortable?"

Rosanna smiled nervously, as she gave the cuffs a tentative tug. "Not too bad."

"Good."

And with that, Irina straddled Rosanna.

Rosanna smelt the heady scent of the dancer's musky perfume, and felt the muscular weight of her body. Irina lowered her head and planted a series of delicate kisses down Rosanna's neck and along her collarbone.

"I thought this was a no-touching type thing?" Rosanna queried.

"Typical lawyer", giggled Taylor.

"I did say it was private room", smiled Irina conspiratorially.

Her hand found the top button of Rosanna's silky blouse and unhooked it.

Rosanna didn't dare move.

Then she undid the second.

Rosanna held her breath.

Irina's nimble fingers undid the third and fourth buttons, leaving Rosanna's blouse gaping wide.

It revealed the tanned flesh of her boobs held in a lacy white balconette bra. Her dark nipples were clearly visible.

Irina licked her lips. "I think maybe you would look good stripping for me!"

And she took Rosanna's breasts in the palms of her hands giving them a firm squeeze.

As her painfully taut nipples scraped the lace of her bra, Rosanna let out a little squeak.

"You like?" asked Irina.

"I like", confirmed Rosanna.

"We carry on." She skilfully scooped Rosanna's boobs out of her bra cups, leaving them sitting high on the white lace like a pair of orbs.

And with a final appreciative squeeze, Irina slid her palms onto Rosanna's gym-honed stomach, and down towards the waist of her suit trousers.

"I am going to make you *little bit* more comfortable," Irina announced, as she unbuttoned the trousers. Rosanna instinctively lifted her bum up, allowing Irina to wriggle the tight trousers down her legs and round her ankles. Underneath her suit she was wearing a tiny white lace thong, to match her bra.

The white material only barely covered Rosanna's modesty.

"Oh poor girl, you are suffering!" Irina giggled, as she beheld the clear damp patch between Rosanna's legs. "Let me make it worse..."

She stood up, removing herself from Rosanna's lap.

And she perfunctorily reached behind her back, undid the clasp of her green bra, and let it fall to the floor, exposing her pale pink nipples. Her breasts, small and round and pert, sat high on her chest. The bra had clearly been there far more for decoration than support.

Rosanna gasped as she felt another twinge of arousal between her legs, looking at the half naked Russian girl.

Irina stood in front of Rosanna, a pale auburn-haired topless goddess.

Without breaking eye contact she slowly ran her hand down her alabaster stomach and into the front of her lacy green knickers.

She withdrew her fingers. Even in the intimate lighting of the private room Rosanna could see they were glistening.

Irina raised her fingers to Rosanna's lips. "Taste".

Rosanna sucked on her finger, tasting the musky juices of the gorgeous Eastern European dancer.

"See how I love my job. You like?"

In place of an answer Rosanna took two more fingers in her mouth, sucking them clean.

"You are dirty girl!" Irina said, cupping Rosanna under the chin. "What does your girlfriend think?"

Rosanna looked across to the adjoining leather bench. Taylor was sitting with her legs spread, completely engrossed, one hand idly stroking herself through her underwear.

"I think she gets off on this too, no?"

Rosanna nodded dumbly.

"Now, we see if you are having fun too."

And with that she edged Rosanna's thong to one side and plunged two fingers straight into her swollen wet cunt.

Rosanna, who was already at boiling point after the stripping and the teasing, screamed.

Irina straddled her thigh, grinding her lace covered crotch against Rosanna's leg as her fingers pumped away inside her. She skilfully finger-fucked the horny lawyer, driving her higher and higher towards orgasm.

Just as Rosanna felt the familiar feeling build inside her, Irina withdrew her fingers.

"Oh for fuck's sake, please just finish me off!" she growled, her aching pussy flushed and yearning.

Irina frowned. "You are very commanding for girl wearing handcuffs. Miss Taylor, what do you think? Is she ready?"

Taylor, still touching herself, giggled. "I think you should tease her some more".

***
Irina slid off Rosanna's lap, and stretched in front of her. "Miss Taylor, please to help?"

Taylor got up from her bench, and embraced Irina from behind. Looking dirtily at Rosanna, she began to kiss and lick Irina's neck, cupping her pert round boobs.

Rosanna was caught in a mire of jealousy and lust. "Oh you bitch", she thought to herself.

Taylor hooked her thumbs into Irina's green knickers, and slowly slid them down her pale thighs, exposing her to Rosanna, who gawped at her immaculate, shaved mound.

Irina picked up her knickers, turned them inside out, and pressed the material over Rosanna's nose and mouth. Rosanna greedily inhaled the scent of Irina's lust. Stretching them tight, Irina kissed Rosanna through the material, their tongues clashing and tasting her cunt juices.

As she kissed her client, the Russian stripper again began to fondle Rosanna's pussy. Rosanna moaned into the lacy briefs spread over her face. "Please...please."

Irina looked up at Taylor. "Now?"

Taylor was watching raptly, a hand in her black knickers masturbating furiously. Her expressive red lips released moan after moan as she fingered herself towards a voyeuristic standing climax. "Fuck, yes, do it, DO IT!"

And with one, two, three, four, five sharp pumps of her fingers, Irina brought Rosanna to a shaking, moaning, swearing orgasm.

"AAAAHHH!" Rosanna wailed as her body shuddered.

The muscles of Rosanna's slick cunt gripped Irina's fingers like a vice as she fucked her.

Rosanna gasped for air through the lace knickers as she shrieked her pleasure at deafening volume. Taylor came at the same time, watching her restrained lover being expertly defiled by the Russian tart.

As Irina withdrew her fingers, Rosanna growled. "No, please, more!"

Irina parted her index and middle fingers, then slid them into Rosanna's cunt and arse simultaneously. As she fucked her with sharp, short jabs she spat what sounded like a familiar mantra.

"You are dirty slut, dirty, dirty slut. Come for your Irina."

And Rosanna did, the dual sensations of a finger in her back door and in her pussy almost turning her entire body to a sweaty mound of quivering jelly. She thrashed against the restraints as she came, her arching back lifting her whole body as Irina fingered her hard.

"Fuck, fuck", Rosanna whimpered as her cunt flooded the slick leather with its juices.

***

Soaked in sweat and sated, Rosanna slumped back against her restraints. Her trousers were pooled around her ankles, her knickers were tugged roughly to one side, and her bare breasts stood proud under her open blouse.

Irina stood with hands on hips, eyeing her handiwork. "You are beautiful girl. Miss Taylor is very lucky."

And with that parting shot, she kissed Rosanna on the cheek, picked up her bra and knickers, and swayed out of the room, naked but for her stockings and heels.

Rosanna looked up at Taylor, her eyes still a little glazed. "Are you going to untie me, Tay?"

Taylor smirked. "Oh, didn't I say? We still have the room for another hour."

And she unzipped her black dress, and let it fall to the floor.
 
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