Short Story: Tulip Feels Better on the Bus to Work

Tulip Fancy

After an significant night, our girl Tulip has accepted being the lady in the marriage, she has a new outlook on life.

    After last night's event, I woke up with a new sense of peace. I swung my legs out of bed and immediately felt the after effects of last night's congress. But somehow, I was grateful of my place in life. Despite the initial humiliation I had felt at the time, I understood it was for my own good as the lady in the marriage. Being the submissive one and receiving my wife's love came with the natural discharge leaving me relaxed and anxiety free.  

    I got past my discomfort and went to get a load of washing on. It's so much easier if I can get it on the line before my laces are tightened. I set the breakfast things out and went back up to do my hair and makeup. My wife was just coming out of the shower when she gave my butt a firm SMACK! I yelped, she knew I was still sore and feeling very open from last night. 

"I love how you walk the morning after," she smiled knowing how it takes a while for the soreness to subside from being ravished last night. With that,  I could not resist putting my arms around her neck and offer her my lips. She wrapped me in her arms and invaded my mouth with her probing tongue. When we broke off, she asked what was that for. I just said, "thank you for loving me."

    Getting dressed for work has become second nature. mixing and matching my black and white skirts and tops, selecting my underwear and coordinating my nail polish, lipstick, makeup and hair accessories. I am now able to hook on my stays in front, crossing my arms at the front grabbing hold of the laces and tightening them as best I can. I tie them off and continue dressing in the rest of my underwear. Normally before sitting down and doing my make-up and hair my wife will check my stays and quite often retighten them calling me a weak sally for not pulling hard enough. Today she encircled my waist with her hands and ran them up my torso. Saying how happy she was that the flesh was being pushed up to improve my bust. 

    Four years ago, I thought I had a chest. Now it is only ever referred to as my bust. Monsieur Rabanna's preference is that I wear my hair up. He thinks it is classier and more professional. sitting down at my vanity I was reminded again of my wife's passion. While doing my hair and make-up I decided that as I had chosen to wear my Valentine's Day stockings, I would wear the jacket that went with my skirt and a less fancy blouse to seem more business-like. I was conscious of Monsieur Rabanne's guidance to not up stage the customers. 

      We left the house about the same time. She drove off and I walked to the bus stop. I could hear the click of my black courts on the pavement. There were the normal people at the bus stop and another guy I didn't recognize. I instinctively knew he had noticed my stockings as I turned to face the road and it made me wonder if I had done the right thing by wearing them. The bus came and we all got on and sat where we could. I opened my handbag and makeup purse for my compact and immediately noticed the two condoms there. I checked my face and closed everything up. I settled back and daydreamed out the window. All my worries of the last week or two had melted way. 

    Every bump in the road reminded me that my wonderful wife had just been worried about my safety. I doubt there are many husbands that could count on such support. She has said, 'we will keep practicing until I can handle any situation or demand and come out of it without injury or disease.' 

    I had never realized, I was under such threat. As I looked out the window at the men in the street I wandered if any of them were dangerous. If so, how do you tell? Would I be able to handle them now? I doubted it but with my wife's help maybe soon. 

    None of these thoughts could break the good mood I was in. There were two ladies coming in today that I quite liked. Both were very classy but nice and not demeaning in anyway. One was coming in for the second fitting for a hat she would be wearing to a race meeting in a couple of months and the other had changed her mind about the dress she would be wearing to a garden party at the palace. This meant a new hat would be needed. I knew how both these ladies took their tea and looked forward to serving them. There is just something about ladies of that class. In the shop I had plenty to keep me busy. It was going to be a good day. I felt loved and useful.