The tangerine orange dress was incredible.
It wasn't too tight, but it was snug enough to make obvious her large teardrop shaped breasts, narrow waist, flat tummy and sultry hips. It was made of some whispy, expensive-looking material. I'm sure the material would be sheer if it weren't for the orange slip she wore beneath. It had a high neck and long sleeves, even though it was clearly so thin and light that it was meant for warm weather.
She wasn't wearing a bra, so the enticing bounce of her large C-cup breasts as she walked was impossible not to notice. Even with the slip, the shape of her semi-hard nipples poking against the very smooth hang of the fabric against her body was obvious and tantalizing.
The best part of the dress was that it was short, too short. When standing here in front of me in her high heels, this incredibly sexy, though otherwise skin-covering dress, hung to just barely below her crotch. Her toned, medium-brown legs seemed to go on for miles and miles from her lovely high heels, up her toned calves and firm thighs before disappearing behind the dark orange whisp of the dress.
The result of all of this, with so little actual skin visible above her legs, but the teasingly thin material making the naked body beneath easy to imagine, was, like I said before, tantalizing. You just knew that she was naked underneath, even though you couldn't see any actual flesh - except of course for her legs, all of her legs.
"I told you that this was too short," Valentina broke the silence.
"I can't wear this around town. This is only for vacations where no one knows us... or around the house," she finished alluringly.
She was right, of course, This was the sort of dress that would cause men to turn their heads to gawk and either end up walking into something or perhaps getting slapped by their own wife.
I also knew that she rarely wore panties. She wanted to avoid panty lines. I had my own reasons for supporting her decision. With how short this dress was, she would be giving an eyeful to anyone lucky enough to be looking when she sat down or crossed her legs. There would be no way to avoid it.
Of course, being the horn-dog that I am, all of this made my dick incredibly hard.
She looked at me. I hadn't answered her comment from before.
"Panty check," I commanded. This was an old saying I had with Valentina from early in our marriage. It was, quite simply, a sexual command for her to lift up the front of her skirt of dress so that I could confirm that she wasn't wearing panties.
She was very obedient to sexual commands. With a smile, her hand came across her body and fingers wrapped the hemline just in front of her barely hidden pussy. The dress was so short that she didn't have to lift much. If I hadn't been hard before, than I certainly was now. She stood before me, everything like I described before about the shape of her incredible body teasing from below the thin, orange material. But now, with her hem held up, revealing her perfectly manicured, landing-strip dark brown pussy hair. The black color of her trimmed landing strip contrasted nicely with the cappuccino brown of her skin.
She smiled sexually as I stared. Even with 14 years of marriage, Valentina was such a sensual woman, and had taken such incredible care of her body, she could get me aroused, and I mean very aroused, this easily.
"Turn around," I now commanded. She dropped the hem of her dress and obediently spun her body around, looking back at me over her shoulder.
"Does my ass look good?" She asked.
My eyes, the bulge in my slacks, and I'm sure what must have been a stupid stare down towards her round ass cheeks was all the answer she got.
The view from the back was just as good as the view from the front. The orange material of the dress hung off of the curve of her ass and hips perfectly. The bottom of the dress was long enough to cover her ass, just barely.
I stepped forward and my hand found her round ass cheek and slid across the orange, smooth material of her dress. Stopping my hand, I gave her ass cheek a strong squeeze, as if kneading bread dough.
"Mmmmm, I like that," was Valentina's response. I liked it too and so I kept playing and squeezing.
After a moment of squeezing, I stopped that and moved on to another fun activity.
With my thumb, I found that spot right at the top where her ass cheeks come together and her tailbone is closest to her skin, and pressed. This was one of those erogenous spots on her body that I had learned over time. Her hand flew back and pushed my hand away as my thumb massaged.
"Babe, you're getting me moist," Valentina protested, though without much actual protest in her tone.
I slid my hand down her ass, my fingers seeking the nirvana of her pussy. With the palm of my hand still squeezing her ass through the thin material of her dress, my finger found the hemline and curled inward towards her womanhood from behind.
This, she didn't protest. Instead she reached back and rubbed the bulge in my slacks.
Simply by curling my finger, I could run the tip back and forth from back to front of her pussy lips, just barely grazing her sensitive area.
"Oh my god that's hot," Valentina breathed.
I had to agree with her. It was hot. To be stroking her pussy as she stood in front of me, fully clothed, was the exact sort of tease that I love. I could imagine doing this in public, perhaps on a crowded subway or even standing out somewhere with people passing by in front of us. They would guess that I had my hand on her ass, but wouldn't see my finger dancing back and forth, gently parting her pussy lips, as we stood in front of them.
