Their clothes were so different. There he was, so neat and encased. She wore an a-line summer dress of crisp cotton and not much else, not even sandals. It swayed pleasingly against her legs.
She slid her fingertips down his torso and the outside of his legs as she went down on one knee and untied both of his shoes. She indicated that he should help her remove them, which he did by raising his heels, one at a time. She rolled down his socks, and slipped them off. He had good feet. She loved the size and strength. She trailed her fingers down the length and played a bit with his toes.
She was pleasantly aware of her bare legs as her thigh pressed against his calf and then broke apart when she raised herself up from the floor. She lightly grasped his hard calves and the backs of his thighs for balance as she stood up.
He remained still, looking at her just as affectionately, but not quite as puzzled as before. She was announcing her intentions.
She laid her hands against his chest. The fabric fit smoothly over the muscles and she moved her hands slowly, relishing the firmness and warmth.
She loosened his tie, pulled the narrow end through the knot and tossed it on a nearby chair. She unbuttoned the collar. After the next button opened, a shadow of hair appeared. It was not curly. But it was almost curly. She worked her way, button to button, getting a small pulse of satisfaction each time the resistance was breached. As the opening widened she ran her palms over his chest, playing with the hair.
When she finished unbuttoning his shirt, at the wrists too, she tugged it free at his waist. The day was warm, and the shirt was faintly damp there. She assumed it must have felt good to him, to have the shirt pulled free. She ran her hands up his chest and slowly pushed it off his shoulders. She licked one nipple and ran her palm over the other. She took a small step back to survey what she thought was perfection. Beautiful muscles, but slim for all that. She ran her hands again through the pattern of hair. She pushed the shirt down his arms and let it drop on the chair.
Then she turned to the belt. There was something about men's belts, how their firm smoothness could echo the firm smoothness of the waist they encircled. She unbuckled it and let it hang loose.
