Long distance gift mix-up.
A special thanks to RF-Fast for helping to proofread and ensuring the story is in good shape.
When is a dress not a dress?
Waking up to the smell of fresh coffee after a good night's sleep is always a pleasant way to start your day. I sat up and stretched, then blinked and realised we weren't at home, but in a hotel room. At the door, my husband was tipping the hotel guy who was holding the coffee tray. He took the tray, and the door started to close by itself. The hotel guy seemed to linger, and I smiled an appreciation for his attention to us.
As I looked at my husband, he was smirking, and I frowned. I was still mostly asleep and then I saw his eyes dip significantly and looked down. Oh shit! I'd just managed to flash the guy my tits. And I'd done it in such a way that made it look like I'd done it on purpose.
"Should I ask the guy for my tip back? You seemed to have tipped him better than I. Twice, in fact." He made a point of staring at each breast in turn.
I scowled, but he wasn't buying it as he saw how quickly my nipples hardened at the realisation of what had happened.
"You could have warned me."
"How? You were asleep when I ordered the coffee? I'd no idea you would pop out the 'girls' like that. I'm sure it made his month."
"I doubt it. He was about 20. Why would he want to see saggy old boobs like mine?"
He frowned at me and shook his head. Knowing I was fishing for a compliment. While I was 40, my exhaustive exercise and strict diet left me with a body my 18-year-old daughter envied. My double C cups sagged only a little and still looked good dressed or undressed.
"I'll tell you what. You want a second opinion. How about I throw a few pound coins in the ice bucket and then have you ride up and down in the lift for a few hours? Topless!"
I chuckled and felt myself flushing at the idea.
"I'm pretty sure you'd have earned enough to pay for the room by mid-morning. Somewhat déjà vu, right?"
He had a point, but I held my hands out in a needy way for the black gold I needed to start my day. My husband chuckled again and hurried to pour my elixir of life. OK, I might have a bit of a caffeine addiction. With the coffee in my hand, I inhaled deeply and was amused after 20 years; the rise and fall of my breasts were enough to capture his whole attention.
"Haven't you seen enough of them?" I asked and ran a hand over my breast. Surprised to find I was horny. I would have expected last night to have satisfied me for more than 12 hours.
Last night hadn't worked out exactly to plan, and I knew I'd be mortified if I saw the kitchen staff again after what happened with them. So, in comparison, flashing tits for a moment or two were kind of negligible in comparison. Or perhaps I found it a little titillating. I'm pretty sure the young man with the coffee had seen enough tit to be titillated as well. Last night had been the best sex with my husband for years. And I suspected we'd talk about it and reenact it for a long time. Although without the humiliating parts, I hoped.
I just hoped and prayed that William had remembered to bring my bag of regular clothing. There was no way I would walk out of the hotel in the dress I'd walked in wearing with last night. Not that it was truly a dress. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
Part 1
My husband was always a good salesman, and I still remember how he sold himself to me when we first met and talked me into dating him. I was quite a catch back in the day and a little full of myself. William would be the first to admit he's only about average in the looks department. What happened last night was an indirect consequence of his salesmanship, in a roundabout way.
About 2 years ago, he got a promotion which was great, but his new role needed far more business trips. And the last one had been at short notice, ill-timed and longer than most. But I suppose you don't fly all the way from Heathrow to Hong Kong to spend an hour fixing one botched deal. A local salesman had fucked up, and the client demanded a senior man to fix it and apologise. Instead, he was there for 2 weeks and mentoring the local sales guys to make sure the problem never happened again.
When I say it was ill timed, that was because we had our twentieth anniversary when he was away. But after all that time, I knew he'd make it up to me when he got back. However, it was also his company's annual dinner, and he was due to get an award as the best salesman.
I wasn't a fan of the dinners because it was all shop talk and wives were no better, so I was glad to miss it. But I was disappointed about him not getting his award. But William told me they had already given his award, and he'd call in on 'Zoom' to give an acceptance speech from his hotel room. Which robbed me of an excuse not to go, and William had already headed off my other excuse of nothing to wear.
He told me from his room in Hong Kong that he had ordered me a dress that I was sure I'd love. When he saw it, he said it screamed 'me'. I wanted to sulk, but I knew he had a good eye and would have made sure it was just the right size. He promised to bring back something nice to make it up to me when he got home, and I felt better about it. I knew from that, I'd need to persuade my daughter to stay at a friend's house. So, I'd not have to worry about keeping quiet when we caught up on our love making.
However, as it got closer to his company dinner and the dress didn't arrive, I started to go through my wardrobe for something else to wear. But he promised it would arrive on time and it was pretty expensive, so he'd hate to see it go to waste.
When I got home late on the day before the dinner, my daughter handed me a package, but I was too tired to open it. Which turned out to be a huge error on my part. If I had, I could have sorted everything out and saved a lot of embarrassment. Both at the dinner and again last night. Although I'm still trying to process everything from last night.
But I digress, back to the morning for the company dinner. I opened the package, and my jaw nearly hit the floor. I know I dropped the package, and my daughter snatched it up and showed me. The dress my husband had bought me was; scandalous, to be frank.
A deep purple satin halter top, with a deep cleavage, and the skirt...
Sheesh! I know my husband is proud of my body, and encourages me to show off, but I couldn't go out in that. The skirt was barely three or four inches below my arse.
"Would you go out in that?" I asked Ashley.
She held the dress out against herself and brushed it down. My daughter is a good three inches shorter than me, with smaller breasts.
"Yeah, to the right event. Of course, panties would be an issue. I think you'd need a thong or nothing."
"Nothing!" I was shocked. "You'd go out without? In that?"
"I think there are some questions a mother might think twice about wanting to know the answer to."
"Fuck. And the top's not a lot better. There's no back and no way I'd consider it without a bra."
The only ornamentation on the dress was over the cups of the top, where there was some black and red embroidery. Which just drew your eyes to the tits nearly hanging out of the damn thing.
"What was your dad thinking?"
"I think he was thinking 'Hubba Hubba.'" She laughed and put the halter top between her teeth, then bunched her fists to mime big boobs inside the dress.
Great! The cleavage was so low cut it ended only a few inches above my belly button.
"Tell you what, mum. I'll get you a stick-on bra at lunch."
"You might be able to get away with wearing something like that, but I'm a mature married woman. I've got a grown up kid, for heck's sake."
"OK, you might have answered your own question, mum. You know how dad is sickeningly mad about you." I frowned, so she explained. "Sneaking up behind you to fondle your bum or stealing kisses like a teenage boy. Gack!" she mimed, choking. "He's got you a dress to remind you that you're not past it. Still sexy and wearing this, I'm sure all the men at the dinner will lust after you."
"That's what I'm worried about."
"And he's done it when he's on the other side of the world, so you can't kick his arse for doing it."
She had a point. Not about his displays of affection. I loved that about him. 20 years hadn't diminished his ardour much. And he did like to show me off. Especially when I was feeling my age. But this was; fuck!
I had lingerie that covered more. Oh god! If only I'd followed that train of thought! And not dismissed it to wonder if I had shoes that suited, or I needed to buy a pair. Any excuse for new shoes was my husband's usual response.
Taking the dress with me to work, I was going to ask my coworkers what they thought. But we had visitors and showing them such a skimpy outfit would undermine my work persona. So, I got shoes that were perfect for the dress and emailed William to ask if he was serious about the dress, as it was a bit much.
Just before I left to go home, he replied and said it was bold, but that I should go for it. Easy for him to say. He'd not be showing 90% of my skin to his workmates and their wives. OK, that was an exaggeration, but it felt like I might as well go in a bikini. Then I remembered something from not too long ago.
We'd been out with some of his workmates, and one was a little loud and drunk. He was bragging about how hot his girlfriend was, and everyone else was rolling their eyes, hoping he'd shut up. Then William shocked me by grabbing his phone and showing a photo of me from our last holiday. I was about as tanned as I ever got and was wearing a revealing white bikini. Not scandalous, but not something I'd casually show people back home. And William's phone was being passed around the group.
