A puff of steam exited the shower with her.
A normal bath towel could wrap up two of her.
Bronze shoulders and toes are all that peak out.
The perfectly knotted towel, intertwined with her brown locks is like an elaborate crown.
The blow drier seems to shriek in the room lit mostly by moonlight.
The towel loosens as she brushes her way through the long brown strands, the flair of her hips is revealed.
The brightly lit mirror reflects her pert little nose.
A shrug of her shoulders, the towel puddles at her feet, the description of petite is revealed.
Ankles together, her bare lips are illuminated in the opening between her legs.
A little turn and a quick glance in the mirror confirmed that her bottom is perfectly heart shaped.
Tonight's lace was white and delicate, virginal white, only one piece.
Never a bra unless she wears something thin or no bra because she is wearing something thin.
The implications of white may have been lost on her, but then again maybe not.
Stretched wide and frozen just above her knees lacy panties await a mist of perfume.
The bent at her the waist, the last easy kiss of the night or me, a site line past her nipples down to her navel.
Pretty panties slid back down her smooth legs, now humid in my hand.
The smile over her shoulder was softer than defiance.
Two hours is a long time to wait.
After midnight.
"Hi," Shelly blushed a little, her makeup was gone.
"Hey..." involuntarily I shrugged my shoulders.
"Thank you...I love you," she sounded a little guilty, good I thought. Her hair was freshly brushed, probably two minutes ago in the car mirror.
"You OK..." her purse made a thump at the other end of the couch.
"I guess...yea...maybe...I don't know.". What the fuck was I supposed to say.
"I love you." Right at that moment I couldn't say it back
