Anything She Wants #7: The Dress by Vanessa de Sade

I still believe it was this end of a sentence from Vanessa de Sade‘s The Dress that did the trick for me: ‘…her deep, deep cleavage an ivory chasm that I wanted to tumble into headfirst.’ When I first read it, I could already feel myself disappear into that cleavage. 😉 Vanessa’s prose is rich and dense, some of her heroines rather dramatic (and I do love a bit of drama), and her stories never hold back when it comes to the good stuff (aka the naughty bits). All boxes ticked again=a spot in Anything She Wants.

Here’s a snippet:

Outside, a chill wind was blowing and the rustling trees were tinged with their first scarlet blush, but, leading me past her alabaster mannequins and towering bolts of frosty-white fabrics, Cassandra took me into the warmth of the secret room behind the public façade of her icy realm. Here, the walls were papered in an intimate chrome yellow paper with a leafy Morris design, and a fire burned in the tiny grate, filling the room with the autumnal scents of wood smoke and pine resin, while rich Aubusson rugs draped the old walnut floorboards like a caress.

Cassandra smiled at me and sat me in a saggy arts and crafts chair, its soft cushions cradling my body in a tender lover’s embrace, and I flicked through pattern books while she sat on the floor, curled on the faded old rug like a tabby cat purring at my feet. She was a short, blonde woman, buxom and curvy, like an old fifties pin-up girl spilling out of her low-cut black dress, her huge breasts rising and falling with her breathing, her deep, deep cleavage an ivory chasm that I wanted to tumble into headfirst.

Finally, I found a pattern that I loved and she led me to a corner of the room where an old screen decorated with picture-postcards of Gaiety Girls stood waiting.

“Come along then, my duck,” she laughed, sliding her tape measure from where it had nestled around her neck like a whip. “Just strip off for me and we’ll get your measurements down in a jiff.”

“Strip off?” I stammered, and she smiled.

“Just to your underwear, my goose, I don’t need you starkers or anything,” she laughed, stroking my hair. “Now get along with you and hop behind the screen for me so we can get started.”

VANESSA DE SADE is a forty-something full-figure gal who likes to write hot stories about real women exploring the darker regions of their own sexuality. She is the author of Melancholia Falls and other popular novellas and stories; plus the collections Rubyfruit Jungle and Nude Shots. A collection of her erotic fairy tales will be published later this year and she is currently trying her hand at a YA novel.

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