The Dress

Copyright 2000 Del Edwards

It took ten minutes and most of a bottle of sun block for them to totally cover each other. She had suggested that maybe they should leave their sunglasses behind to make the event as pristine as possible. He agreed. They walked together, hand in hand, the sun warming their bodies.

"I really get off on this," he said to her, "being naked with you; having you as my woman; watching the men want you; the women hate you when they see their man looking at and wanting you and not them."

"Ummmm," she said happily, squeezing his hand and showing him the small plastic bottle in her left hand.

A steady offshore breeze countered the warmth of the sun making conditions perfect for a walk along the beach. It was the change in pressure and rhythm of their hands that told him she had turned her head and was looking at him. He chuckled when he saw her conspiratorial smile. They were most of a continent and an ocean away from home, looking for a quarter mile of beach of their own. Both of them were totally nude if the thin leather dog collar buckled around her neck didn't count.

But it did. It meant she was totally under his power and would do whatever he suggested much less asked or ordered. It pleased him that his woman was often the one who suggested or initiated their most sensual, loving connections. It meant she loved and wanted to be with him. She was good at keeping the spark of romance glowing. That was one of many facets of this beautiful, delightful, complex creature that caused him to love her with abandon.

He glanced over his shoulder up the beach to gage how far they had come. The closest figure was barely distinguishable as a human being; another hundred yards would be enough. In front of them the beach was empty all the way to the horizon. When they reached that perfect place he slowed and stopped, turning her into him until their bodies touched. His right hand went behind her neck and he drew her in until their lips touched. It was a long kiss, innocently begun. His tongue darted between her lips and then retreated only to again play over her lower lip which he sucked between his own lips, holding it there while he tongued it again.

He dropped to his knees, gently spread her outer lips and licked her slit.

"Aaaaaw," she moaned into the wind.

He lovingly extracted several more quivering screams from her then set to work digging two holes in the wet sand, a shoulder width apart. She knew what to do. She knelt, putting her feet in the holes so the sand supported her entire lower legs. She was sitting on her heels, her legs beautifully defined because of the mild stress of her position. Her mauve painted nails led the way as her index and middle fingers positioned themselves on each side of her swollen clit.

The man who had just kissed and tongued her pleasure bud hard lounged in the sand before her, his head propped in one hand, the other resting lightly on her right thigh. She grinned at him and began stroking herself toward ecstasy. About three minutes later a series of gasps escaped her lips, announcing her first orgasm. Their eyes rested easily upon each other for awhile and then he said, "Again."

Her second ecstasy arrived even more quickly. It took her breath away as it approached and left only enough energy for her to moan, "Ooooh Goooad!" before she quivered and then froze into an exquisite statue of living beauty.

She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. A quiver swept through his body as a salute to her perfectness.

He let her rest a bit longer before he slowly moved one finger along the inside of her thigh.

"I love every inch of you. Once more, my love."

She took herself upward a third time, wanting the pleasure and wanting to please him. First there were the grunts and then the growls as she moved toward perfect pleasure. Her index and middle fingers reciprocated both sides of the hard, pink passion bud in the center of her flower. He was entirely pleased when she rose to her knees in absolute intensity, arched her back and thrust her hips toward him and screamed at the gods until her voice broke into silent gasps. She fell back onto the sand, gasping for breath, a sheen of perspiration on her skin.

Twelve minutes later she moved her hand to her face to shield her eyes from the sun. With her other hand she tapped the thin leather dog collar snuggled around her neck. He carefully unbuckled it so as to give her not the slightest discomfort and handed it to her.

She tasted the leather between her thumb and forefinger. Her slim, lithe, muscled body moved as a beautiful symphony. Kneeling, she wrapped the thin leather collar twice around the base of his sack, pulled it down to the last hole and fastened it in place. One hand gently cupped his sack as she leaned forward and kissed his penis. Looking up at him she smiled and purred, "Now it's my turn to tell you what to do."

She told him to lie on his back and then she settled into a cross-leg sitting position with her knees touching his ribs and thigh. Her shadow fell across his hips, shielding his genitals from the direct sun.

"A sunburned cock is no fun for either of us, is it my love," she almost sang to him.

The words were part of a ritual they had perfected over a year and several visits to nude beaches. She uncapped the small plastic squeeze bottle she had carried in her other hand and squirted a liberal amount onto his penis. Then she took his right wrist and turned his palm up and dribbled more of the oily liquid onto his fingers and palm.

"Make me a hardon I can dream about into the night. Dinner, dancing then you can make me another and burst inside me at midnight. Oooh, yes, you're gonna love The Dress!"

He did as he was told having no other recourse since the collar was wrapped twice and buckled snuggly around the base of his scrotum. His abdomen and thigh muscles tensed again and again. She loved to watch him squeeze and tease and stroke himself until the shaft was a relief of purple veins and the head gleamed taught like a pink serpent ready to strike.

After listening to him groan for 15 minutes she threw a handful of sand on his hard penis and hand. He stopped immediately. When she rose from her sitting position there was nearly an equal amount of sand clinging to her moist, excited lips. She sprinted the few yards to the surf and dove in when the water was at mid thigh. He chased her into the water, his erection flopping wildly as he ran. They embraced in the chest deep water; her arm around his neck, her thighs and upper back cradled in his arms and her other arm behind her back, her hand firmly grasping his still hard cock. He carried her to shore where he gently set her down.

In their robes back at the cabana they lunched on several fruits, cubes of spicy roast meat, a firm local cheese that was somewhere between jack and provolone, shrimp and a chilled medium red wine.

They spent a relaxing early afternoon reading in the shade of the cabana then put on their robes and went to the pool-side bar for a rum drink. Back in their suite they showered together, turning the water off several times while they languorously lathered each other. One of those times she stood spread-legged while he sat on the edge of the tub and used her wet-and-dry electric razor to make her very smooth again.

Refreshed and relaxed they lay together on the bed, she on her left side facing away from him. Also on his left side, he curled his torso and thighs to her so they were skin to skin from shoulder to knee. His right arm was draped across her ribs and chest so his hand fell naturally on her left breast. Their siesta lasted almost till sundown when they awoke slowly.

The top floor suite meant they would have complete privacy on their balcony. Still nude they carried their glass bottles of chilled mocha amaretto into the open air, settled into the chairs, sipped the smooth, sweet liquid and watched twilight become night.

"Will you dress and leave first so I can surprise you with my new dress," she requested.

"Sure, but I like you a lot just the way you are," he replied.

She grinned and posed for him. He visually devoured every inch of her in the dim light.

"A beautiful woman with a brain and a loving heart, you are my delight," he commented as he rose.

She reached out and grasped his hand. Still seated she pulled him in front of her, cupped her other hand under his scrotum and said, "How 'bout half a blow job to get you in the mood?"

Several minutes later she stopped tonguing the underside of the swollen head of his penis and said, "God, I love the taste, texture and size of you."

She was still sitting on the balcony when he reappeared fully dressed. "You look very nice," she said adding, "would you like the other half now?"

He grinned at her, shook his head and said, "The tension is delicious. I'll be waiting in the bar."

He was surprised and awed when she appeared in the bar and slid onto the stool next to him maybe ten minutes later. It hadn't taken her long to dress but then she wasn't wearing all that much.

The veil made her so retro and surreal that for a few moments he sensed he was in a dream. It covered her forehead and eyes, ending at the bridge of her nose. Her eyes were darkly done and the black net veil made her brown eyes even richer and deeper.

Her dress was the epitome of sensual intrigue. A one-and-a-half-inch band circled her neck and obviously fastened in the back. It was a dusty black crepe set firmly over some sort of stiffener giving it shape. Attached to the collar was a sweep of black chiffon that dove steeply under her arms to meet the crepe that ended in a broad U below the small of her back. He loved backless dresses and she knew it. The U motif was repeated in the front. Almost see-through, the black chiffon reached below her navel in the center while the black crepe rose from her hips to meet the chiffon where her ribs ended. The U motif repeated again in the skirt. It was split to just above the knee on both sides, both the front and back panels forming a single large scallop that ended at her ankles.

She was pleased about the body language and expression she saw from him. After twisting slowly on her stool until she had her bare back against the bar, she crossed her legs and adjusted her position to display her legs encased in black nylons. Her black stiletto heel sandals had tiny straps securing them to her ankles.

"Think it's too revealing?" she asked as she touched the collar and then let her hand slide slowly down the front of the dress until it rested in her lap. She was sitting up very straight so the shape and color of her nipples were barely discernable under the black chiffon.

"No I love it. You're gorgeous and stunning. I just hope I don't have to fight some Romeo who decides he wants you for himself," he replied.

"He'd have to fight both of us," she smiled. "Like my 'fuck me' heels?" she asked.

"Oh yes, and the rest," he answered.

"There isn't much else," she smiled, "just the stockings and a black garterbelt." She let the comment sink in for a few seconds and watched the expression on his face change. Leaning close to him she rested her hand on his thigh and whispered, "I love to be able to excite you."

"You're an incredible tease," he smiled as he reached out to touch her bare shoulder.

A five-piece band was playing from a small stage at the other end of the rectangular wooden dance floor. She gazed across two rows of tables at the few couples on the floor. "We can do better than that," she commented.

He slid off his stool, took her hand from her lap and said, "Let's show'em how it's done Foxy Lady."

After the foxtrot ended there was a waltz that they fast-tracked counterclockwise around the edge of the floor. He requested a tango and several couples fell away, giving them more room. They were warmed up now and moved in perfect unison as if there were invisible lines of magnetic connection between them. They were totally focused on each other moving sensually with near perfect synchronicity. It wasn't until after the last few bars died away and they ended with a deep dip were they aware they were alone on the dance floor. The applause began with a single pair of clapping hands and grew to include everyone in the room including the band and the bartenders. Several men were shouting 'magnifico' and 'bravo."

Still holding hands they bowed to the bar end of the room and then turned and bowed to the band. He raised his arm in a presentation salute toward the band and the applause surged again. Then he led her off the floor, out of the lounge and to the dining room.

They both chose fairly light entrees to go with the bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon he selected from the wine list. Even the silly little ritual with the wine waiter added to the richness of the evening. The waiter opened, poured and waited for him to sip and approve. He did so with a nod of his head. The wine waiter gone, they raised their stem glasses and clicked a toast.

"You are a truly fine and intoxicating wine, my love," he said evenly to her. He was enjoying the private knowledge that she was nearly naked under the revealing dress so snug about her slim waist and hips.

She smiled and replied, "You're just saying that to get in my pants but I already told you, I'm not wearing any."

"Sooo you did," he smiled back.

Half way through dinner a distinguished gentleman with gray hair and wearing a tuxedo approached their table and introduced himself as the night manager of the resort hotel. "Senior y Senora, the patrons have asked that you dance again. I will compliment your dinner and wine if you wish to do so," he said.

Her eyes met his and she nodded quickly several times. He turned to the man standing beside their table. "Of course. Please tell the bandleader we would like a tango and then Los Paso Doubles."

"Si, senior. Gracias."

Waiters, bellmen, taxi drivers and even cooks in their whites flowed into the lounge behind them. Their second performance of the evening went at least as well as the first. During the Paso he became the matador and she was his cape and sword. The dance floor became the Arena del Toros.

With applause and cries of approval still filling the room, the night manager escorted them to a table, took their drink order and served it to them.

Back on the balcony of their room the conversation took a serious turn. He stood with his hands on the railing looking out to sea.

"You've been my competition dance partner for more than three years. We became lovers two months after your husband's accident. Divorce him and marry me," he said to the sea.

"I still feel like I'd be abandoning him," she said as evenly as she could but her voice cracked.

"When he came off that motorcycle and went head first into the curb, most of him died right then. All that's left is the body and the lizard brain that keeps him breathing on his own," he said still speaking out to sea.

"I know what the doctors said but he is still a little bit alive," she said using her hand to push away the reality he had just thrust at her. She moved close behind him and circled his chest with her arms. Her cheek was against his back when she said, 'I wish you hadn't brought it up, I just want the evening to end well with you in me."

"After I eat you until you cry out in pleasure, my love. Pull up you dress, lie back on the lounge and spread your legs," he said as he slowly turned in her arms. The pad of the other chase lounge under his knees, bent forward with his head between her legs, he tasted and teased her for a long time before her scream of ecstasy ripped the night air.

Sometime later she sat up and they kissed. "You have such a talented tongue, sir. Thank you. And what parts of me would you like...lips, hips or finger tips?" she asked.

"Lips and then hips," he responded.

"Trade places with me," she suggested.

His pants and shorts around his ankles, she set to work with her mouth to make him hard. When he was she again raised the skirt of her dress and slid over him, taking all of his hardness into her wet, warm sheath. She had had hers. Her concentration was focused entirely on producing the perfect rhythm and containment to turn his moans and growls into just a few animal screams of total abandon.

He enjoyed the way she came onto him. Her creamy thighs and belly with the pedals of her passion hole at the center, framed by the black garterbelt, suspender straps and dark stocking tops was the most beautiful portrait he had ever seen. He let her pull him higher and higher into the sky, waiting for the lightening strike. His screams of utter pleasure were the thunder that followed the flash.

"I must be fair and prompt with you, with him and with me," he heard her say. "I will answer your marriage proposal within a week."

What, dear reader, will her answer be?