She had this dress that buttoned up the front. Buttons all the way up and down. It was a vintage dress from the 50s or early 60s, navy blue with short sleeves that cuffed, tea length. It fit her perfectly and held her curves.
She never wore it although I often begged her to put it on for a night out. It was too dressy for most nights and too casual for our rare fancy occasions. And since it was vintage and so lovely, she didn’t want to wear it too often and see it fall apart.
So the night she pulled it out of her closet and hung it in the bathroom before she showered, I got all worked up. I stood outside the bathroom and stared through the crack in the door. I could see it in the mirror. It was hanging there with all those buttons shining bright. I knew what I wanted to do. I stripped down to my boxers and went to the bedroom.
I stood at the closet looking at my best shoes. I got out my rag to shine them up. I pulled out my pinstriped wool pants, the ones that had been my grandfather’s in the 30s. I took my white shirt off the hanger and went to the ironing board. I love ironing my shirts. I love to hear the steam hiss and see the cotton so smooth under the hot iron. I take my time and do it right. I got out my best linen hankie and ironed it too; creasing it just so.
On my dresser, I have a small leather black box that holds a pair of mother of pearl collar stays and my best cufflinks. Standing there in my boxers, I started to dress. It’s a ritual for me although I don’t always follow the same routine. Tonight I put on my shirt first but left it unbuttoned. I put on my socks. It makes me feel like an old man to stand in my shirt, boxers and socks. And this was an old man night somehow. Maybe it was my grandfather’s pants that set it up for me that way.
I slid on my pants and buttoned the suspenders. I slipped the hankie into my pocket. I buttoned my shirt up and lifted the collar for the stays. I fitted the cufflinks and tugged on each sleeve. I ran my comb through my hair before tying on my shoes. I was ready.
Now I prepared the bedroom for later. I had things to store in my dresser by the bed. She was just stepping out of the shower when I finished. I stood outside and stared through the crack in the door again. We do this. She knows I’m there. She dried herself and started dressing.
She dressed for me with a slight smile on her face acknowledging my stare. She dresses so prettily for me in the way she inches up her panties, the way she arches her back and stretches her neck long while she clasps her bra behind her back. She watches herself in the mirror and feels my eyes on her. She sticks her ass out just so as she leans closer to the mirror to apply her make-up. I catch her eye peeking back at me when she’s done and blotting her lipstick. I move away after that. We don’t discuss this exchange.
We were only on our way out for a drink with friends. But it was a new bar, a speakeasy. When we got there, I was quiet. I leaned back in my chair and watched. She is lit up around friends. I love watching her laugh and enjoy their company. I sipped my bourbon and ordered her another martini. Five olives, she likes five olives. She eats them at the end of her drink when they’re soaked with booze. We were getting soaked with booze. We hadn’t eaten yet.
I pulled out a pack of cigarettes. I don’t smoke much, but this is one of our rituals. I laid the pack and a lighter carefully in front of me on the table but she was busy chatting. Distracted, she didn’t notice. I waited a few beats, staring at her, before I put a cigarette in my lips and picked up the lighter. She saw the flame first and her look was quick and clear. Her face changed only for a second but I saw it and noticed the slight blush. She had missed it. It’s her role to pick up my lighter, focus her attention on me and let me stare at her while she lights my cigarette. She had missed it.
We left after our two drinks and she gripped my arm tightly as we walked home, a little unsteady in her heels. “You were quiet tonight,” she whispered in my ear. As she said it, she slipped a little and I felt her lips press against my ear and neck. I imagined the streak of lipstick on me and smiled. I didn’t answer her. “Why are you smiling? Why won’t you answer me?” she asked, pouting.
“You were lit up tonight,” I said, “Beautiful and shining.” She slid her arm further through mine and squeezed me. I could feel the bourbon slowing my thoughts. I was still smiling the way booze slows everything down; still smiling beyond remembering why.
‘Here we are,’ I said as we got to the door of our apartment. I opened the door for her, held her hand as she stepped up into the entryway. Unlocked our apartment door and held it open for her. We were both quiet and smiling and a little drunk. I took her coat.
She walked towards the kitchen and I moved quickly to grab her. My hands were around her waist. My hands felt big. She was a little off balance as I grabbed her. “Are you drunk?” I asked. She looked over her shoulder at me and smiled. I tugged at her waist. “Do you remember?” I said, speaking low and serious. She looked down at the floor, whispering, “Yes.”
Using my fingers, I pulled at her waist and turned her around to face me. I stared into her eyes as I slapped her across the cheek. She slowly brought her face back to stare at me. I slapped her once more. “Thank you,” she said. I could see the sting in her eyes and the tears welling up. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, the girl in the movies waiting for her beau to kiss her. I kept my hands around her waist and softly kissed her lips.
When she moved her hands up to my shoulders, I reached up to hold her with one hand between her shoulder blades and one hand on her neck. Our kiss built slowly. We stood like this for several minutes and we slowly moved our hands finding ways to grip each other more and more tightly until we were standing there smashed together, pulling on each other and squeezing our bodies together. My thigh had moved between her legs. Her arms were now low on my back, her hands pulling on my ass. One of my hands was wrapped around her low back and the other on the back of her head. I felt her so completely against my body.
I took a step backwards and she followed me. We stayed halfway locked together, kissing, as we inched our way to the bedroom with me walking backwards and her stuck to me. We were stumbling along the way. I reached out to steady myself against the hallway wall at one point.
As we went through the doorway, I moved behind her. I handled her from behind, moving her to the wall between my dresser and the bed. I turned her around and pressed her shoulders up against the wall. “Put your arms out, palms against the wall,” I told her and she obliged. I opened a drawer and pulled out a pair of long, silver scissors. I got down on my knees and snipped the bottom button off her dress. “No!” she shouted. I stared up at her. “No?” I said, “You don’t get to say ‘no’ right now.” I stared at her until she nodded back at me. I stood back up. I kissed her neck and whispered reassuringly, “I promise I will make it up to you.” I stood there sucking on her neck with the scissors blade resting against her chest. I felt her hips moving. I felt her desire.
I dropped back down to my knees and snipped the second button. With each snip, I touched her. I reached a hand between her legs. I curved my fingers behind her knees and ran them up her legs an inch or two. As more buttons fell to the floor, I parted her dress and pushed my face to her thighs. I ran my lips softly against her skin. Snip. Snip. Snip. My teeth against her inner thigh mid-way up. The buttons clattered and rolled on the floor. I looked up and saw her chest heaving as her breath quickened. Sometimes her head was turned and her eyes closed. Sometimes she was staring down at me with a lost, drunk look in her eyes that told me everything.
I was at her pussy. I snipped three buttons in a row and grabbed behind her, pulling her ass and shoved my face against her panties. She pulled her hands away from the wall and put them on my head and I let her leave them there now, helping to pull me into her. My teeth pulled on her panties, tugging them. I was almost growling trying to get at her. We worked ourselves up like this and then I quickly backed off. I had so many more buttons to go. I stared up at her. She pulled her hands away and pressed her palms back up against the wall. I undid the belt at her waist and continued to snip the buttons one at a time.
When I got to the last button, I couldn’t stop myself and I cut right through her bra, snipping once at the side and twice more to cut both straps free. I ran the open blades of the scissors against the swell of each breast. I stared with my mouth hanging open at the shiny blades against her sweet flesh. I kissed the slight red trail they left and licked with my tongue following closely behind the metal. Then I licked the blades and held them in front of her mouth. She stared at me and opened her mouth, sticking her tongue out to accept it. I ran the metal down her tongue a few times. Her tongue curled around the blades as I drew one side and then the other across her lips. I dragged them down her chest and stomach and snipped her panties in two places until they fell away. I ran the blades between her legs carefully and slowly. She gasped and I kissed her hard, leaving the scissors pressed flat against her pussy. Her kiss was more hungry than I’d known before.
“Undo my pants,” I ordered, “Undress me.” I am not usually naked with her. Not at this stage. But something about her letting me hold that metal against her pussy made me want to give her everything. She was still in her heels, so first she stepped out of them and then pushed me back onto the bed. Naked, she straddled me. She grabbed at my hair and pulled on one of my ears with a funny smile on her face. She leaned down and kissed me while she unbuttoned my shirt. She pulled my suspenders off my shoulders and jerked my shirt open. I sat up on my elbows and she pulled my shirt and tank top off completely. I watched her delicately unbutton my pants and lower the zipper. She reached her hand inside my pants and found the strap on hidden and bent against my thigh. She stroked me slowly.
She turned herself around, still straddling me. Her ass just above my cock. She leaned down and untied my shoes, letting them drop to the floor loudly. She pulled my socks slowly off. I put my hands on her ass and rubbed her, moving a hand between her legs now and then and getting all wet. I pulled at her and she backed herself up onto my face. I held her ass and sucked on her pussy. I circled her asshole with my thumb and she started riding my face harder. I felt her hands reach into my pants and pull my cock out. She was sucking on it now and pressing it into me with her mouth and hands. I brought my knees up giving me traction to thrust my cock into her mouth.
Her breasts pressed into my low belly and that feeling, and her wet pussy on my face, and her asshole under my thumb connected me to her so fully it was almost overwhelming. We were writhing against and into each other and my whole fucking body was completely turned on; on fire. She came. I felt her body jerk and grabbed at her, pulling her harder against my mouth. I held her tight against me before I pushed her off me and rolled her onto her back. I stood up and let my pants fall to the ground before I climbed on top of her.
I lifted her thighs and pushed her legs back. She grabbed at her own knees and I kneeled between her legs. I held my cock in my hand and rubbed the tip of it against her pussy. I stayed like this a long time, letting the tip barely enter her before pulling it back and rubbing it the length of her pussy. She was rolling against me. Her eyes were shut tightly and I stared at her. “Please,” she finally begged, “Please fuck me.” I just stayed there rubbing against her. “Please,” she moaned. She repeated herself and rolled her body for me; so vulnerable there on the bed below me. So completely unabashed and so completely mine in this moment.
I dropped down on top of her, keeping the tip of my cock pressed against her. I kissed her and reached my hand down between my legs to guide myself inside her. I pushed on the back of her thighs and she grabbed the back of my head while we kissed and I fucked her. I fucked her deep and hard. My stomach clenched and my ass squeezed hard as I thrust as deeply and quickly as I could, in and out of her, over and over again.
“Fuck,” I yelled out. When I’m drunk, I say more than usual. “Fuck. You are so god damn sexy. I fucking love you. I love fucking you.” And she squeezed my head and kissed me so hard I was sure I would have fat lip. I moved my hands under her ass and pulled at her. We were sweating and slamming into each other now. I felt myself close to coming from the pounding pressure against my own clit. She came and grabbed my ass, holding me inside her. She wrapped her legs around me. And we rocked more and more slowly with my cock deep inside her. She made a humming sound in my ear and bit me softly.
I let her go down on me after that. I twirled her hair around my fingers while she sucked on my clit. I let her curl her fingers inside me. I was free and moving and came around her fingers and held her to me. And then I held her in my arms until she drifted off to sleep.
I got myself out of bed and put on my pajama pants and robe. In the darkness, on my hands and knees, I felt around for all her buttons. I draped her dress over my arm and went to sit on the couch. I got out her sewing kit and found the matching thread. I sewed each button on with care before I crawled back into bed very late. My thumb was bruised and sore from the needle. I pressed myself up against her sleeping back and closed my eyes.