Ken groans as he walk out of the bedroom, ready for the company dinner you're accompanying him to. You're clad in a skin-tight dress that you and Ken picked out in your shopping trip last month in Japan. It hugs your body perfectly, accentuating every curve and perfection on your frame, and you still remember the gormless expression Ken had adopted when you tried it on for him. He'd been unable to formulate any coherent thoughts other than curse words and a whisper of a beg. You'd smirked as you told the sales assistant that this would be perfect. They'd been just as happy as you - if they made commission, it'd be a fortune. What Ken didn't know about your little shopping trip was the shoes you picked out to accompany your dress,
"What the fuck are you doing to me," Ken groans, extending a large hand to engulf your waist, pulling you into him. You smile coyly as you feel his muscles beneath the well-tailored suit jacket, knowing exactly what you're doing to him. You'd picked out the sexiest heels you could find – they match the colour of your dress perfectly, and the slim stiletto heels give you an extra 3 and a half inches. Of course, they make your legs look skinnier too, but that's just the effect of heels. The reason you picked them out is because you want Ken to snap. You don't want to go to this boring dinner. You want to stay home and have Ken fuck you senseless. This dress accompanied with Kens massive kink for you in heels may just work,
"Do I look good?" You ask innocently, letting Ken's fingers wander down your leg, pulling it up to wrap around his waist. You smirk as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, sighing as he struggles with himself. He ultimately must come to a decision, because he growls in frustration and sheds his suit jacket,
"Go to the bedroom. Keep the shoes on, I'll be there in a few minutes,"Ken demands, smacking your ass with a smirk as he reaches for his phone to inform the company he won't be able to attend tonight. There's an emergency at home that needs seeing to.
