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Maid costume, maid costume, maid costume.
His chat is spamming it, he's only been streaming for a little over 30 minutes and he's already seen it hundreds of times.
Do his fans just assume he has one on hand, ready to go? He shakes his head and laughs it off, not even bothering to mention it on screen.
It's not that George is necessarily opposed to the idea, it's just that he's never even worn a skirt let alone something as elaborate as a whole costume. Sweats and hoodies, that’s all his wardrobe consists of. Those and the cat shorts he broke out on screen, those don’t seem to be a fan favorite though.
He can’t say that his interest hasn’t been peaked. The appeal of a woman wearing one is obvious, but on him? He's not sure why people want it so badly, but god, do they want it.
Even after his stream is over he continues to think about it.
He's not overly skinny, but he doesn't have curves either. Average, he would describe himself as. Nothing like the bodies he's seen maid costumes on before. He runs his hands over his hips, feeling out the shape. Almost nonexistent, he knew it.
He resolutely pushes it from his mind, he'd look absurd wearing a maid costume.
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It takes less than a week for him to break. He searches over multiple websites to find the perfect one. Within the hour he has it ordered and on the way; he's simply curious, that's all.
Time is creeping by, waiting for packages always seems to slow time down, stretching it like molasses. He’s antsy, but if Dream notices he doesn’t mention it.
It takes three days after ordering the dress until George can admit to himself that he’s actually looking forward to it. When he lets himself become excited for it, time seems to slow even more. Only three more days, each longer than the last.
Until finally, it arrives.
Dream isn't home when it comes, which he's extremely grateful for. With him gone he doesn't have to worry about hiding the package or trying to explain what he's gotten. He’s never been able to lie to Dream very well, the blonde always sees right through him, and if that’s a conversation he’s able to avoid he most definitely will. Roommates don’t need to share everything.
George hurries to his room, stripping his pants off on the way, excitement buzzing under his skin. He sets the box onto the bed and stares down at his legs. He doesn’t have much hair, but what little he does have is as dark as the hair on his head.
Maybe he should shave them, to get the full experience. Yea, he just wants it to be authentic.
Dream should be gone for a few more hours, he'll certainly have enough time.
Shaving ends up being a lot harder than it sounds, how do people get the back of their legs? He picks up his phone, looking up a couple different things until he finds what he’s searching for.
It takes twenty minutes and a whole lot of struggling, but he's finally satisfied with the job he's done. Maybe practice does make perfect after all.
George has carefully followed the instructions he'd found online, not wanting to cause a rash or cut himself too badly. Double checking what he needs, he goes searching under the counter; surely they have some type of moisturizer somewhere.
He finds it pushed all the way to the back, buried behind some extra shampoo. Shea butter, the website says that it’s supposed to be good enough, he’ll trust it for now.
Rubbing the lotion into his legs is the most enjoyable part by far, smooth skin making his hands glide easily. George spends a little extra time feeling the new texture of his skin, no wonder people do this, he doesn’t think that he’s ever felt this soft before.
He doesn't bother with clothes before walking back to his room, he'd just have to get undressed again anyway.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, he opens up the box quickly and peers inside.
Panties?
George looks at the boxers he had set on his bed, they would look weird with it, wouldn't they? Too long, they'd hang out from underneath the skirt. Authentic, remember?
He gingerly lifts them from the box, they're lace, black and simple. Next comes out the actual dress, followed by a headband, lace stockings, garter belt and a white scalloped apron.
The quality is amazing honestly, every article feeling silky against his hands. Here we go
He slides the panties up his thighs, tucking his soft cock into the waistband. The texture is odd, rough, yet soft as silk.
Next comes the garter belt, it rests on his hips and clips to the stockings that he pulls onto his legs. He risks a glance in the mirror and his mouth falls open.
His waist seems so tiny, the garter belt accentuates the curve of his hips, making them seem fuller than usual.
His thighs are falling out over the top of the stockings and the straps of the belt dig into them slightly, he snaps the fabric a couple times. He's grateful that he shaved, pale skin contrasting nicely with the black of the fabric.
George pulls the dress over his head, zipping it up once it's in place. The hem falls at his upper thighs, leaving the smooth skin of his legs on display. The apron is the next piece to go on, tying it in the back is a bit difficult, but he somehow manages.
He likes it, no, he loves it.
He feels so pretty, creamy skin and long legs peeking out from underneath the dress. His waist blossoms into wide hips, the bottom of his ass making an appearance if he moves even the tiniest bit.
The headband is the last piece to go on and as he settles it into his hair he smiles to himself.
He never wants to take it off, he spins a couple times in front of the mirror, turning this way and that. Feeling a little bit bold, he grabs his phone and snaps a couple pictures of himself. He wants to remember this, even when he can’t wear it.
He shoots a text to Dream, “Hey, when do you think you’ll be back?”
“Later, mom wants to go shopping, not sure how long that will take. Are you missing me that much?” The reply is almost immediate. His eyes roll as he reads the last part, typical Dream.
“I was just checking in, have fun.” George’s teeth bite into his bottom lip, he has more than enough time to indulge himself. An hour; that’s all he’ll give himself, just to be safe.
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He starts by actually cleaning, it is a maid’s costume after all. Their house isn’t that dirty, so it mainly consists of George flitting between rooms, bringing misplaced objects back to their homes.
Once he finishes he moves onto the dishes, opting to scrub them by hand rather than use the dishwasher. He sets his phone on the counter, music filtering through the speaker, his hips move to the beat as he gets into it. Each bounce is forcing him to rub into the front of his panties. He’s hard, straining against the lace.
When he finishes his chores he’ll allow himself to get off properly, until then he let’s the tension build inside of himself.
As George is finishing up the dishes he realizes that he's genuinely enjoying himself, who would've thought that a maid dress would be all the motivation he needs.
Alright, laundry is next on his list. He goes to each of their rooms, gathering what's left on the floor.
He's bent over fishing what looks like a shirt from under the edge of Dream's bed when he hears a gasp from behind him.
He freezes, it can't be Dream, he's been cleaning for less than an hour. His eyes flick to the clock on the bedside table, three hours. Time really does fly when you're having fun, George's eyes slam shut as the thought crosses his mind.
He's still hard, he can't possibly play this off as a joke with the way his dress is tenting at the front.
Large hands settle onto his hips, gripping the black fabric of his dress tightly.
"Dream." The other man's name slips past his lips without his permission and he cringes. He's never going to be able to live this down. Dream can be ruthless in his teasing, especially when he knows something is embarrassing to George.
His cheeks are burning as he turns around, eyes firmly glued to the ground. His hands come up, pulling the loose fabric away from the bulge of his cock.
"I- I was.. I was just cleaning up a bit. I should go finish." He puts a hand on Dream's bicep, pushing lightly, desperately hoping that he'll move back and let him leave without mentioning any of it.
"George." The tone of Dream's voice forces his eyes up, with how close they’re standing George has to tilt his head back to get a proper look at his face. He knows how tall Dream is, he really does, but with how close he’s standing he’s in awe of it all over again.
The blonde's eyes are stuck to where the dress ends, thighs spilling out of his stockings.
The look in Dream's eyes eases the tight feeling that had been close to crushing his lungs, "You..you like it?"
His answer comes in the form of Dream flipping him back towards the bed. He pushes between George’s shoulders until he's bent over with his face pressed into the mattress, hands gripping the sheets in front of him. His cheeks flush all over again, there's no way that his entire ass isn't on display.
"I leave for a couple hours and I come back to you all dressed up for me, bent over my bed waiting? God George." Dream's hips are pressed flush against his ass, grinding his hard cock into George, "You're so fucking pretty baby. Tell me now if you don't want this. I'll let you up and we can pretend this never happened."
That's the last thing he wants right now, he twists his head back and presses his lips against Dream's. He can’t say that this is how he’d imagined this going, but he’ll take it.
They moan into the open space between their mouths, bodies pressing closer together. A hand snakes around his body, palming him underneath his dress,
"Dream." Their lips part and he pants out the blonde's name, begging with a single word. He’ll take anything at this point. He’s been worked up for three hours, and while he had never anticipated this, it’s all he can think of now.
"I got you baby, relax." Dream shushes him, grip tightening around his cock.
He slowly drags his fist up, rolling the head of George's cock into his palm. He jumps as pleasure shoots down his spine, precum spilling out of him.
He buries his face back into the sheets, his arms have gone weak, not able to hold him up any longer. Whimpers spill from his mouth as he gets close, hips jerking into the warm heat of Dream's hand. Just a bit more
“No, please..” He’s more than desperate when suddenly Dream’s touch leaves him, “Please, please.” He chases the lost friction, even as he’s manhandled onto his back.
A laugh is the only response he gets to his begging, a small smirk playing across the other’s lips.
Warm weight presses him into the bed and slick lips meet his again. Their tongues slide into one another, breath mingling between open mouths. George’s hips grind up into the body above him, wrenching twin moans out of their chests.
“More, I need more Dream.” His hips meet the blonde’s again, punctuating the words that drag themselves out of him.
Thankfully the other man seems to take pity on him, he rucks the dress up and slides himself downwards. Hot lips mark their way, bruises blooming like flowers in their wake.
George’s body is trembling, pleasure almost overwhelming him. His legs clamp shut as Dream licks a hot stripe over the lace that confines him; big hands wrap themselves around his thighs pushing them up and forcing him to bare himself to the tongue that's laving over him. Dream’s grip is marking him, bright red mixing with the deep purple already colored there.
Dream gives head the same way he faces everything in life, extremely enthusiastically.
He’s working his way up his length, leaving open mouth kisses everywhere he can reach. He takes the spit soaked material between his teeth, pulling until the cock underneath is exposed.
George watches as his cock is freed, it’s deep red almost purple at the tip and leaking onto his stomach. His mouth opens again, ready to beg for it when Dream swallows him down. His hips jerk up, shouting out as the blonde’s hot throat closes around him.
A moan vibrates around him, he fucks up into Dream’s waiting mouth again and the same noise follows. Oh.
He buries his hands into soft hair, gripping as he uses the man on top of him. Spit is sliding out of the corner of Dream’s lips, making it so much easier to work himself in and out.
“I’m cumming- I-Oh god.” Dream pulls off, lips swollen and shiny. Tears spring to his eyes, twice now his orgasm has been ripped from him.
Dream climbs up his body, reaching past him and into the bedside table. A half empty bottle of lube emerges and green eyes meet his, searching George’s face. Satisfied with what he sees there, Dream settles back between his legs.
Lube coated fingers prod at his entrance as a hot mouth is once again wrapped around his cock. George hisses as a thick finger slides into him, dual stimulation driving him insane.
Everything about Dream is huge in comparison to George, his fingers are no exception.
Another finger works into him, scissoring, preparing space for something much bigger. Lube is coating the inside of his thighs and he feels absolutely filthy.
Dream’s nose is pressing into the curly hair at the base of his cock, throat fluttering around him as he swallows. He’s fucking his fingers into him faster now, curling them and dragging over his prostate.
The brunette beneath him is whining, body unable to stay still.
His hips can’t decide which way to thrust, stuttering back and forth. In the end they work down as Dream fucks him open. Three fingers slide in, and he knows he can take it, “‘M ready, c’mon fuck me Dream.”
Dream pops off and reaches towards the bedside table again, “I wanna feel you. Please.” George pouts until the condom is dropped, looking at Dream he only now realizes he’s completely dressed. He needs to fix that.
He pulls at the other’s shirt until he slides it off, pants following, all of them landing in a heap at the end of the bed. George’s hands run over the blonde’s toned torso, lightly freckled from the Florida sun. He’s everything he’s imagined he would be. Wide shoulders pushing into George’s space, looming over him and making him feel so small. George can’t lie, he loves a man that can push him around and force him into position.
His eyes run down and lock on the cock that’s tenting the front of Dream’s briefs. He’s huge. He knew it, look at Dream, it makes sense but he’s never seen it in person. His mind is racing, he wants everything.
“I want you to choke me on your cock. But right now I need you to fuck me.” George grabs his briefs, pulling them off, and pushing him down onto the bed.
He wastes no time, grabbing the lube and slicking up the cock in front of him. George straddles and sinks down onto Dream’s cock; hands come up to grasp at his hips encompassing them.
He throws his head back, groaning as he’s stretched, bouncing slightly as he fucks himself down. He’s finally seated, cock filling him so perfectly.
George slams their lips together, it’s less of a kiss and more of them panting into the other’s mouth. His hips are grinding back and forth trying to adjust to the thickness that’s holding him open.
Brown eyes open to meet green, and he finds Dream staring up at him like he’s hung the moon, mouth open and gasping.
The hands on his hips lift him up, dropping him back down. Over and over again, Dream uses
George’s body like he owns it. His cock hasn’t been touched, and he’s leaking onto his dress. He’s made a wet spot on the tent of it, face flushing with humiliation as he looks down at it.
The brunette’s legs are shaking, thighs trembling in his stockings. He can’t lift himself up, weakly bouncing with the help of Dream’s grip. He’s moaning, high pitched and desperate with every drag of Dream’s cock inside him.
“Fuck me, fuck me, come on.” He’s begging again, his release is building again and he can’t stop the words spilling from him.
Dream flips them, fucking into the boy that’s beneath him, relentlessly pounding into his prostate. George can hear high pitched moaning, an almost scream and hazily he realizes that it’s him. He would feel embarrassed if it wasn’t for the way that Dream’s groaning out his name, telling him how good he’s being for him.
His body spasms, muscles locking up as he comes all over his pretty dress. He shouts as it hits him, hole fluttering tight around the big cock fucking him. Dream fucks him through it, all the way into his own teeth clenching orgasm. He bites into his shoulder as he rides through it, marking George as his, even as he’s filling him up with cum.
They fall bonelessly into one another, sweat slicked skin pressing into the other’s. They kiss, smiling into each other’s mouths.
Dream pulls out, breath catching as he watches his release spill from him. He presses his finger to him, pushing his cum back in, “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
He leaves to grab a warm washcloth, and George releases a deep breath, what does this make them...
When Dream comes back he cleans George up gently and helps him out of his dress, “Stay here tonight?” Dream looks at him shyly, he looks nothing like the man that just confidently fucked him.
“Yeah, of course.” As he falls into bed next to him, his unasked question is answered. Dream kisses him like he’s been in love with him for years, like they’ve been doing this for a lifetime.
They pull apart and Dream smirks, “Nice dress by the way.”