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“I love it! But…”
“Don’t “but” me, Cassidy, you didn’t come prepared for tonight, you need something that’s appropriate, fitting for your position.”
“What position?”
“As my lover.” Her eyes light wistfully.
Now I don’t trust her. I can imagine a whole new scenario going on behind this one.
“You need something this wonderful, c’mon, wear it and enjoy it.”
I’m skeptical and hesitant, but so aroused I can’t believe it. She undresses me with careful hands and a watchful appreciative eye as she gazes at my body as though she’s unveiling it for the first time. There’s likely not a thing I wouldn’t do for her to have her back in my life, and she knows it.
“You’re taking advantage of me,” I tell her.
“I know, just trust me. Here, let’s put it on.”
The dress is actually several layers. There’s a small skirt of beaded thongs that goes around my hips. It rides low and sensuously so that the thongs caress me.
“Ouch!” I gasp. I reach down realizing that some of the beads have sharp ends, not cutting ones, but edges that smart when they prick the skin’s surface.
“Inventive, isn’t it,” she says.
Another heavier skirt fits at my waist. This one’s twice as full, the weight of it surprises me as it hangs heavily against my hips, and travels down as far as my calves below. A third layer goes around my neck, draping about my shoulders and breasts. The bodice fits tightly around my torso, the beads woven into a window pane mesh, so while it conforms to the shape of my body like a garment, the skin beneath is still exposed, including the dark aureoles of my nipples.
I’ve never worn anything so erotic in my life. I feel like some jungle queen; all I need is a scepter in my hand and gold slippers on my feet.
Moving is like making love to myself as the beads caress every crevice, every tantalized piece of flesh. Even my pussy feels the effects, where strands of beads tickle my clit, and from behind they get caught in the cleft of my ass. Without warning, every second or two, a sharp prick reminds me of the “thorns” on the inner skirt. How fitting that this mimics Tasia’s precious roses.
“You look stunning,” Peach says standing back.
She continues to play with my body as if I’m a bride. She weaves strands of beads in my hair that weight it down in the same erotic fashion that the dress weighs down my body. As I look into the mirror, she puts long earrings in my ears, which flow with the flow of the dress. I hardly know this woman staring back at me. Even the raw painted savage I was a day ago doesn’t match this person. I’m surprised that my pale skin looks so pleasant; the iridescent colors glow with a light that is similar to the soft tones of my flesh.
Everywhere Peach touches me, I’m aroused.
“Please let’s take it off. I want to be next to you.”
She kisses me lightly, her hands fondling their way past the beads, until they find my juicy cunt. It takes just seconds to turn my arousal into a soft lilting orgasm. She fingers me expertly, in ways that only Peach has found to satisfy me. She smiles as she sees the pleased look on my face.
This dress makes it awkward to do what I want with her; but she makes no move to strip me of it, so I push her down on the bed and climb between her legs, the skirt swaying, little thorns making me wince every time I move. Her cunt is as I remember it, the juices flow and she shimmies softly as her climax claims her. I know how much we’ve missed each other. There’s a familiarity about her that cannot be overcome completely with any new lover, no matter now strangely satisfying it appears. Not even Miriam has the intuition to make love to my body the way she does, or give in to my touch the way Peach does.
“After tonight, will we be together then?” I ask. I’ve slumped to the floor, where I gaze at her as she sits at the edge of Analise’s bed.
“I can’t promise that,” she says. “It’s really up to you.”
“I know what I’ll decide,” I tell her.
“Reserve your judgment, Cass, things happen swiftly here, you should know that.”
That is the one consistent thing about this place.
“Are you going with me to the beach?” I ask her.
“Not now, I’ll be there later.”
I feel crushed, our reunion has been too perfect to end so abruptly.
“You’re not finished with this place, not yet. And neither am I,” she reminds me.
