You live just a hallway apart from me. We share the house.
Every night I watch you walk to the kitchen in a summer dress, lightly hanging from your thin shoulders, ending just above your knees. I watch it flow around your waist, swinging with each turn and twist. Your walk, like a graceful cat, along the sunset-lit floorboards. Your long legs, ending somewhere far above that light sundress, leave me restless at night.
Tonight you came over to my room. A movie we watched on the floor. Only you didn’t know you were in the cast too. The orange summer sunset was spilling it’s rays through the window, beautifully outlining your face. The last sun rays turned into a rich pink color, reflected off a distant window to purposely caress your lips. I couldn’t keep my eyes off you.
Darkness enveloped you, as credits rolled. You got up form the floor, leaning forward, giving me just a glimpse of your chest, as deep as your bra, but nothing beyond. Perfectly white creamy skin, sprinkled with a few freckles, laid upon you by the early summer sun. Skin, as if magnetized, attracting my hands, my eyes, my thoughts.
You quickly twirled, tangling your legs, showing me your soft and thin feet. A tandem of bold and thin lines drew your soles and shins. Your dress, riding up from the twirl, exposed more of your thighs, growing wider towards your hips. All of that in beautiful, creamy, glowing soft skin that I cares with my gaze every time you walk down that hall.
You opened the window and sat on my desk in front of it. The chill night air rushed past you, leaving just a shiver to roll through you. Your legs sat slightly apart, invitingly loosened, barely a gaze apart, mindbogglingly soft, ludicrously inviting, sinfully delicious and wrongfully tempting. You sat there, talking to me, as I could’t keep my gaze from wondering down across the floral print, as if I can see what is hiding under that summer dress. I could only imagine – a thin, pale, soft body, with bold curves outlining it and fine lines, describing the details – bellybutton, birthmark, freckle, goosebump.
But I couldn’t know.
I was not allowed to know.
Someone else knows. Someone else is allowed to.
It would be wrong if I did, so I let only my gaze feel you. My mind, my hands, my lips would have to only guess.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/c9m0vl/f_your_dress