#sundress season with henry winter oh god someone sedate me

[astrum-aetherium]

hiii im the girl from Southern Italy ( form the henry would burn in the sun ask) you will probably find me in your inbox multiple times SO im going to call myself A.

personally during summer you'll never catch me wearing pants im literally always in sundresses. those soft, airy, flower printed dresses you find on pinterest or smt.

with big skirts, stretchy fabric a low neck line and sometimes a split.

and i just can imagine henry wanting to have a nice quickie in it. (as if id ever deny him that. )

i just cannot get this idea out of my sick brain i just need it a good fuck with henry in my sundress ughhhhh.

anywho.... love ya

-A

hi, A <3 don't consider me direct when i say i love you for this prompt. sundress season is my absolute favorite — especially now that it is in full swing — which is why i appreciate you sending an ask regarding it greatly. what an utterly rewarding thought to develop. aahhh. i'm about to cry genuine tears.

beyond you loving your summer dresses, there would be henry absolutely maddened by them, as well. the soft, flowy, airy fabric — how it would flawlessly align with each pristine curve of yours, how it would reveal just the right amount of your velvety skin for him to grow uncomfortably hot and subsequently need to hide his indulgent glances behind sunglasses. you would positively drive him insane in sundresses; he would constantly fall prey to the most frenzied of fevers — that ardent, unshakable want for you. he would yearn to feel and touch and taste and tease and worship your skin, with the gentle fabric of your dress billowing in the humid summer air.

and the best part is: you'd know it, too — the power you'd wield over him wearing something like that. therefore, you would shamelessly abuse that very position of power. for instance, you would frequently forget to slip into any underwear in the morning, and then make sure you rub against him in a way that'd make him notice the fact. then, you'd only be left to observe his narrowing eyes, expression tensing significantly, and his twitching palms. how he would command every cell constituting his body to maintain his composure, which the bulging veins on his arms and his forehead would prompt to you. still, he wouldn't be able to resist for an extended timespan; you'd end up having a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses smeared all the way from your ankle to your palpitating center, which he would sweep out with his tongue and proceed to stimulate skillfully whilst buried in the vibrant skirt of your sundress.

in the cases you would wear underwear, however, you'd mostly end up with it strung up at your ankles, your knees, or even stuffed in your mouth as he'd tease and please and ruin you. by the end of the summer, you wouldn't have any dresses left that he won't have fucked or at the very least teased you in. that's safe to say.