“Thanks,” she whispers. “I believe you. I guess I also owe you four buttons,” she murmurs before reaching down to the bottom of her dress and undoing four of the pearly white fasteners.
“We don’t have to play this game, Whitney,” I tell her, still feeling like shit for putting my foot in my mouth.
“No, it’s okay. Besides, what if I’m enjoying the game?” she asks slowly, popping four more buttons on the skirt of her dress. It’s now revealing half of a creamy thigh, lush and ripe.
I deposit another $200 and any words I misspoke are forgotten. Whitney finishes her glass of wine and pours another. She takes another deep sip and sets it on her night stand. Then, she packs the food back in the basket and sets it on the floor beside her bed. Picking her wine glass up, she leans back on one arm. Her split skirt is spread out around her and one foot is tucked behind her bottom.
“Tell me what you want me to do, Peter. I’m yours,” she whispers.
How does she know what I was already feeling? I want to possess her.
“How many buttons do you have left?”
She counts, “Ten.”
I send her $700.
“I think your math is wrong, Pete,” she says sweetly.
“The other $200 is for the ribbon, but I want that to come last.”
She finishes her second glass of wine and seductively releases all the buttons on her skirt. I get a flash of white lace, but then she returns to the fasteners on the bodice of her dress. The garment falls open and I realize I was wrong. I thought she was braless, and it’s true, but she’s not completely bare up top. Instead, she’s wearing a white girdle which emphasizes her narrow waist and tiny matching panties. It looks like something that would be worn under a wedding dress because it’s all frothy cream lace and exquisite detail. It never occurred to me that she might be married. Suddenly, I have to know.
“Whitney, are you married?” I blurt.
She jumps back for a moment.
“What? No! Why would you think that? I’ve never had a boyfriend serious enough to even consider getting married.”
“It’s just … well, what you’re wearing looks like something reserved for wedding nights.”
She thinks for a moment.
“Wait, are you married?”
“No,” I answer immediately. “I’ve dodged that bullet, thank god.”
She looks down at herself and giggles a little. I think it’s the wine. She’s downed two glasses in front of me, and I have no idea how much she had before that.
“I guess you’re right and technically, this was worn in a wedding. I got it when I was in my cousin’s wedding. We all had tight bridesmaid dresses and I needed something to smooth me out beneath the satin. I bought this girdle at the bridal shop. Come to think about it, the sales lady did look at me kind of funny.”
She rolls into a fit of laughter and I can’t help but join her. The wine has definitely loosened her inhibitions.
“I need more to drink,” she declares and gets off the bed to stumble over the basket she set on the floor.
She is now giggling so hard that tears are rolling down her flushed cheeks. She has definitely passed into the realm of drunken bliss, but it’s endearing. I like seeing her happy, even if it’s drunk-happy. She moves off camera for a moment as I wait.
“Whitney,” I call her name, thinking maybe she’s forgotten that I’m here.
She reappears, flushed and beautiful, her curves heaving. Her breasts are a gorgeous milky white with pink crests, and they sway as she giggles again.
“Pete! Have another glass of wine with me! We can be alone together.”
“I’m all out of wine,” I say regretfully. “Maybe we can continue this conversation tomorrow night at the same time?”
She stares into the camera, and I can tell from her flushed cheeks and dilated pupils that she’s definitely had too much.
“Are you leaving me, Pete? Why do they always leave me?” she trails off.
“Whitney, I’m not leaving you. You are incredibly beautiful and sexy and I wish I could be there to make love to you, but I think you need to get some sleep.”
She winks at me.
“Maybe. But I want you to know that I was very restless last night thinking about this hot guy I had a private show with yesterday. I didn’t get much sleep. Oh wait, you’re the hot guy. Did you just say you want to make love to me?”
I laugh, even if the sound comes out a bit hoarse. At the moment, I’m as hard as a rock, but that isn’t what she needs from me right now.
“I did and I do. But tonight, I’ll have to visit you in your dreams. Good night, honey. Sweet dreams and sleep tight, okay?”