[SENT: Photo: Newt in the nurse's uniform again, now seated at the end of the bed, the sailor hat still on his head. He is not 'sitting like a lady'--instead, he is leaning back onto his hands, his knees are spread wide, and the skirt is hiked up to give a peek underneath. There's absolutely nothing worn under the skirt. Brow arched, he smiles a cocky come-hither.]
I'd like you to know I'm sitting here laughing my ass off that this is what we've become in our married life together, but yes, please go buy me a nice pair of panties so you can undress me properly
fidjhfsdhf YEAH WELL YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN, YOU NERD anyway when you get home hand me the bag through the bedroom door and wait in the hall until I'm ready
A little over twenty minutes later, Hermann was home as promised. Newt peered out the bedroom door without opening it any more than necessary to steal the bag from Hermann's hands.
"Wait there," he instructed, before abruptly shutting the door in his husband's face.
Newt dumped the bag out onto the bedspread, the pale pink lace falling in a small puddle while the receipt fluttered to the ground. He tossed out the paper and examined the underwear. Flimsy, nice looking but not too nice. He'd be surprised if they survived Hermann's enthusiasm. Newt pulled them on, mindful of his earlier 'preparations,' then carefully gathered the nylons and slid those up as well, straightening the vintage-style seams in the back.
The lace felt weird pressed to his skin and the nylons were warm and constricting, but foreign as the outfit felt, he thought he looked pretty damn good.
He didn't have any appropriate shoes, so in stocking feet, he padded over to the door and pulled it open just a crack.
Hermann stared at the door, rolled his eyes, and waited. Newton seemed to take an eternity to finish dressing, and casting glances to his husband's old bedroom, he couldn't help but worry that Sophie might be home and come out of her room and ask about why he's standing in the hallway in front of his own bedroom door.
At least he wore loose-fitting pants.
But it was worth the wait. Once the door was closed behind them, Hermann got a nice long look at his husband dressed up in his nurse's outfit. More alluring in person than in a lewdly posed photo. The skirt on its own was distracting, and he was eager to see how the lace looked.
He shifted close, hand alighting on Newton's hip.
"..Well now, perhaps I'll have to thank Mr. Graham for the gift after all."
"You should definitely send him a thank you note later. After you're done enjoying this test run."
Newt checked the lock on the bedroom door, then guided Hermann further into the room.
"Just don't ruin it before the big day. He expects a picture. And you're going to have to play my sailor," he added, removing the hat from his own head and plopping it onto Hermann's. His arms wrapped around Hermann's neck and he leaned up on tip-toe. "You are going to be my sailor, right, Hermann?"
Hermann held Newton and stared. Mouth so tantalizingly close, and yet kissing him would be binding. Of course he'd known this was coming, he'd just sort of hoped to avoid it. He'd look terrible in that outfit, he was sure.
He swallowed, now keenly aware of the warmth of Newton's body against his.
Hermann was going to give in, there was no doubt in Newt's mind. Sex was an excellent form of persuasion in their arguments these days, and considering it was literally just a photo (and a slight dent to Hermann's idea of dignity) that he was asking for, Hermann would come around.
"Now...is that a yes? You can put your hand up my skirt... if you agree."
Which meant Newton wanted a good dozen modeled images for himself. But really, with Newton this close, how was he meant to resist? Was likely even planned this way, knowing he'd be slightly resistant to the idea.
He dipped his fingers under the hem of Newton's skirt.
"Despicable," he breathed against his lips, then pulled him into a kiss.
Of course he wanted some for himself. Could Hermann even blame him? You didn't marry a guy and NOT want sexy pictures of him all over your phone's gallery. Even when it was in cheesy costumes. If Will was going to give them ridiculous clothes, Newt was DEFINITELY going to make the most of it. And by make the most of it, he meant have sex in them.
Skirts were not really his thing, but if Newt had ever imagined himself cross-dressing, it was definitely as a Sailor Scout and the skirt was LOADS shorter. This was almost dowdy by comparison, though the skirt barely hit his knees, but there was still something erotic about the sight and implication of a hand sliding up a skirt that he really wanted to explore--why not?
His "whatever" in retort was lost into Hermann's mouth and Newt wiggled closer, encouraging Hermann's hand higher under the fabric.
Where normally his fingers would have met the hairs of Newton's thighs, instead they touched the silken slide of nylon. It was an unfamiliar sensation that made an otherwise ordinary occurrence feel new. Hermann hummed appreciation and brushed his thumb over the lacy underwear at Newton's hip.
He broke off the kiss to gauge the distance to the bed, then looked at Newton with a quirk of a smile.
"Lay down for me darling, I'm feeling rather ambitious."
Oh. Oh, please. His hips canted into the touch. How unexpectedly smooth the nylons made his legs feel as Hermann's skilled hand all but glided up over his skin. Newt shifted, squirmed, wanted Hermann's fingers under the hem of the underwear he didn't quite yet have access to.
The nylons were slightly less appealing in their restriction around his otherwise eager erection, but he could forgive them thanks to the way they pulled the lace tight against his skin, the foreign texture heightening the sensitivity.
Newt pulled away and moved to sit on the bed, propped up by their many pillows, legs swung up to extend out.
Ambitious. How was that word alone so suggestive? How could Hermann not realize that a simple purred, growled...spoken word from him was enough to get anyone's panties wet. He crossed his legs.
Hermann set his cane aside, then knelt carefully on the bed to join him. Quite a tantalizing view up Newton's skirt. Of course, it could be better, but he'd get there.
"Hm, legs flat if you don't mind."
Touching a knee, Hermann slid his hands up along the nylon and slowly shifted forward. Newton's skin was incredibly smooth and warm to the touch. Such flimsy material, however..
But he spread his legs apart a bit and thrilled as Hermann's hand slid its way upward again. It all had the touch of scandalous. Newt figured he looked pretty ridiculous in the nurse's outfit--a tattooed nerd in glasses and a frumpy halloween drag costume--but he felt like a sex bombshell, like there was nothing more captivating or ravishing and Hermann had to have him now.
"Uh." He considered the nylons as best he could while laying here, Hermann's hand on his thigh and his own brain thinking of little else but that hand disappearing up the skirt to do whatever it liked to him, out of his view. The nylons were probably replaceable. They could be sacrificed for the cause. Will would probably understand. And anyway. ...Anyway, he was hardly going to get in the way of Hermann's ambition.
"Everything here's all yours except the dress and the glasses."
Hermann smiled and worked his way up, hitching the front of Newton's skirt up as far as it would go and relishing in the bulge showing through his underthings. It was tempting to draw the elastic down, but more fun was the promise of Newton squirming in needy discomfort.
He leaned down, gaze flicking from Newton's eyes to his obviously uncomfortable erection and mouthed at the heat and odd combination of textures under his lips and tongue.
Newt gave a choked gasp and his hips jerked at Hermann's mouth, wanting more of it, the heat easily penetrating the thin fabrics to tease his erection already straining against the undergarments. His head went back against the pillows and he writhed a bit, noisily.
"...You're the worst," he whined in a tone that wasn't ever really a complaint, and he threw the front of the skirt over Hermann's head, draping him under the white cotton.
He hummed, perfectly pleased with himself as Newton writhed under his touch, thrilling in the way his husband's hips twitched rebellious against his steadying hands. As ever, lust surged through the Drift and stoked the flames of his own desire until he was panting with it and couldn't maintain Newton's torment.
He surfaced, smile breathless as he took in the needy expression lining his husband's face.
"..Well now, perhaps we should take these off."
His fingers dug into the elastic at Newton's waist and drew the nylons down. For all they were wet at the crotch area, he didn't intend to destroy them. But neither was he overly concerned about tearing the fabric.
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mathemagier
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I should make you buy me some panties so you can do this right~
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ACTION - NSFW
"Wait there," he instructed, before abruptly shutting the door in his husband's face.
Newt dumped the bag out onto the bedspread, the pale pink lace falling in a small puddle while the receipt fluttered to the ground. He tossed out the paper and examined the underwear. Flimsy, nice looking but not too nice. He'd be surprised if they survived Hermann's enthusiasm. Newt pulled them on, mindful of his earlier 'preparations,' then carefully gathered the nylons and slid those up as well, straightening the vintage-style seams in the back.
The lace felt weird pressed to his skin and the nylons were warm and constricting, but foreign as the outfit felt, he thought he looked pretty damn good.
He didn't have any appropriate shoes, so in stocking feet, he padded over to the door and pulled it open just a crack.
"You can come in now."
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At least he wore loose-fitting pants.
But it was worth the wait. Once the door was closed behind them, Hermann got a nice long look at his husband dressed up in his nurse's outfit. More alluring in person than in a lewdly posed photo. The skirt on its own was distracting, and he was eager to see how the lace looked.
He shifted close, hand alighting on Newton's hip.
"..Well now, perhaps I'll have to thank Mr. Graham for the gift after all."
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Newt checked the lock on the bedroom door, then guided Hermann further into the room.
"Just don't ruin it before the big day. He expects a picture. And you're going to have to play my sailor," he added, removing the hat from his own head and plopping it onto Hermann's. His arms wrapped around Hermann's neck and he leaned up on tip-toe. "You are going to be my sailor, right, Hermann?"
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He swallowed, now keenly aware of the warmth of Newton's body against his.
"..One photo?"
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Hermann was going to give in, there was no doubt in Newt's mind. Sex was an excellent form of persuasion in their arguments these days, and considering it was literally just a photo (and a slight dent to Hermann's idea of dignity) that he was asking for, Hermann would come around.
"Now...is that a yes? You can put your hand up my skirt... if you agree."
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He dipped his fingers under the hem of Newton's skirt.
"Despicable," he breathed against his lips, then pulled him into a kiss.
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Skirts were not really his thing, but if Newt had ever imagined himself cross-dressing, it was definitely as a Sailor Scout and the skirt was LOADS shorter. This was almost dowdy by comparison, though the skirt barely hit his knees, but there was still something erotic about the sight and implication of a hand sliding up a skirt that he really wanted to explore--why not?
His "whatever" in retort was lost into Hermann's mouth and Newt wiggled closer, encouraging Hermann's hand higher under the fabric.
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He broke off the kiss to gauge the distance to the bed, then looked at Newton with a quirk of a smile.
"Lay down for me darling, I'm feeling rather ambitious."
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The nylons were slightly less appealing in their restriction around his otherwise eager erection, but he could forgive them thanks to the way they pulled the lace tight against his skin, the foreign texture heightening the sensitivity.
Newt pulled away and moved to sit on the bed, propped up by their many pillows, legs swung up to extend out.
Ambitious. How was that word alone so suggestive? How could Hermann not realize that a simple purred, growled...spoken word from him was enough to get anyone's panties wet. He crossed his legs.
"Any way in particular?"
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"Hm, legs flat if you don't mind."
Touching a knee, Hermann slid his hands up along the nylon and slowly shifted forward. Newton's skin was incredibly smooth and warm to the touch. Such flimsy material, however..
"Do you want these intact as well?"
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But he spread his legs apart a bit and thrilled as Hermann's hand slid its way upward again. It all had the touch of scandalous. Newt figured he looked pretty ridiculous in the nurse's outfit--a tattooed nerd in glasses and a frumpy halloween drag costume--but he felt like a sex bombshell, like there was nothing more captivating or ravishing and Hermann had to have him now.
"Uh." He considered the nylons as best he could while laying here, Hermann's hand on his thigh and his own brain thinking of little else but that hand disappearing up the skirt to do whatever it liked to him, out of his view. The nylons were probably replaceable. They could be sacrificed for the cause. Will would probably understand. And anyway. ...Anyway, he was hardly going to get in the way of Hermann's ambition.
"Everything here's all yours except the dress and the glasses."
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Hermann smiled and worked his way up, hitching the front of Newton's skirt up as far as it would go and relishing in the bulge showing through his underthings. It was tempting to draw the elastic down, but more fun was the promise of Newton squirming in needy discomfort.
He leaned down, gaze flicking from Newton's eyes to his obviously uncomfortable erection and mouthed at the heat and odd combination of textures under his lips and tongue.
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"...You're the worst," he whined in a tone that wasn't ever really a complaint, and he threw the front of the skirt over Hermann's head, draping him under the white cotton.
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He surfaced, smile breathless as he took in the needy expression lining his husband's face.
"..Well now, perhaps we should take these off."
His fingers dug into the elastic at Newton's waist and drew the nylons down. For all they were wet at the crotch area, he didn't intend to destroy them. But neither was he overly concerned about tearing the fabric.
"How well prepared are you..?"
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