The Dress She Wore with Nothing Underneath

—Put on the dress you wore on Saturday at lunch. But no panties, and go barefoot. Oh, and let your hair down.

Carla turned around on the sofa with a slow smile and looked at Marcos over her shoulder.

—Well. Any other instructions?

—If I think of anything else, I’ll let you know —he replied, winking at her.

—Can I at least finish the movie?

—No.

She laughed, a low laugh he knew by heart.

—All right. Anything for your birthday.

It wasn’t like them to leave a movie halfway through. They were the sort who stayed until the credits, arguing over endings and replaying scenes. The fact that he wanted to interrupt Gregory Peck in the middle of the second act said a lot about what was on his mind.

Carla had invested time and a good part of her savings to make that birthday different from all the others. Marcos was turning fifty-two, and she wanted him to remember it for years. She had organized a family lunch, a long dinner with their oldest friends, and, to finish things off, a two-day getaway just for the two of them, in a wooden chalet on the outskirts of Granada.

The house was small and warm. One floor, two bedrooms, a fully equipped kitchen that she had made sure was stocked to the last corner. The garden was enormous, with a pool, a hot tub, and a barbecue area they planned to christen the next day. But that night, the plan was not to leave the house.

They had arrived at noon, and the afternoon had slipped by in the usual way: unpacking, opening a bottle, arguing over who would cook. Marcos had been in a strange mood for weeks, as though the round number weighed on him more than he wanted to admit. Carla had noticed, and that was precisely why she had planned the weekend down to the last detail. She didn’t want an ordinary birthday. She wanted him to feel seen again, desired, still capable of provoking the things he used to provoke. She also wanted to fuck him until there wasn’t a drop left in him, until she erased every thought from his head except her pussy.

In the living room stood a gray leather sofa bed shaped like an L, upholstered in leather, with cushions combining gray and burgundy. In front of it, a widescreen television had been projecting black and white onto the walls for a while.

It was already night. Marcos sat in the center of the sofa with a bowl of popcorn on his lap. Carla occupied the longer side, lying facedown, her legs stretched toward the backrest and her head resting on a cushion she hugged while following the plot.

She was wearing a tank top and short shorts that gave him a privileged view of her back, her legs, and the curve of her ass where the fabric ended.

She was so absorbed in the movie that she didn’t realize he was no longer looking at the screen. He was looking at her with that hunter’s expression he wore whenever he wanted her and found her distracted.

On Saturday, at lunch with the family, Carla had worn a dress that had kept him restless throughout the meal. It wasn’t a dress that revealed. It was a dress that suggested, and that was exactly what kept him awake at night.

That was why he had made her pack it. When she discovered it folded among her things, she had simply smiled without saying a word.

It was made of light, airy fabric, cream-colored, with a pattern of small pinkish roses. Thin straps, a V-neck that left her neck and shoulders bare, fitted from the chest to the waist before opening into a long skirt with a slit in front that revealed one leg whenever she walked or crossed her knees. At the back, the straps crossed in an X and left her skin bare down to the middle of her spine.

What turned him on most was the way her legs hinted at themselves with every step. A promised path that showed almost nothing, ending exactly where he wanted to put his mouth.

Carla returned to the living room wearing the dress and stood silently in front of him.

Through the window behind the sofa, barely a thread of light came in through the white curtains. The rest was shadow.

Marcos switched off the television. He took off his clothes without hurrying but without hesitation and walked toward her naked, his hard cock pointing at her without any attempt to conceal it, slightly arched upward, the tip already gleaming. When she looked at it, she felt heat rise up her neck and, without realizing it, ran her tongue over her lip.

—Look at me properly —he said, gripping it at the base and slowly waving it in front of her face—. This whole night is for fucking this all the way inside you.

Carla dropped to her knees without thinking. She gripped his cock with both hands and ran her tongue along its entire length, from his balls to the tip, while looking up at him. Marcos groaned when she took the head into her mouth and began sucking him slowly, tightening her lips around the crown and helping herself with one hand at the base. She sucked him hungrily, in her own way, staying still for a few seconds with his cock deep in her throat before pulling off with a strand of saliva and swallowing him whole again.

—Fuck, Carla… that’s it, suck me like that.

She brought up her other hand and caressed his balls while continuing to suck. She ran her tongue underneath, over the frenulum, and took him back into her mouth until she gagged a little. Her eyes filled with tears, but she didn’t stop. Marcos grabbed her hair, gathered it into a bun with one hand, and began setting the pace, thrusting his hips against her mouth. Each thrust drew a wet snorting sound from her and an increasingly hoarse moan from him.

When he felt himself about to come, he pulled her away by the hair. A strand of saliva hung between the tip of his cock and her lips.

He took her by the waist and lifted her, guided her back to the sofa, and sat her astride him. He devoured her mouth while sliding both hands beneath her skirt and caressing her buttocks, confirming that she really was wearing nothing underneath. He spread her cheeks with his hands, slid two fingers between them until he found her soaked pussy, and plunged them inside.

—You’re dripping —he whispered in her ear—. I haven’t even touched you and you’ve already got your pussy this wet for me.

—You get me this way just by looking at me —she panted, moving her hips against his hand.

Carla let herself be swept away. With Marcos, it was always like this: desire covered her like a tide and she stopped thinking. She felt his two fingers moving in and out, his thumb searching for her clitoris, and a long moan escaped against his neck.

He pushed down her straps and unclasped her bra. He went straight for her breasts, licking them, biting them softly and then not so softly, sucking her nipples until they were hard and flushed, while she held his head in both hands and arched her back to offer them to him. Marcos tugged one with his teeth, making her cry out and laugh at the same time.

—Eat them —she begged hoarsely—. Eat them hard.

He moved up her neck with his mouth as his hands went back beneath her skirt. He caressed the insides of her thighs, moved higher, and opened her with his fingers, spreading the lips of her pussy to push three fingers inside and twist them. Carla panted, let out a deep moan, thrust her hips against his hand, and began riding his wrist. He found her clitoris with his thumb and rubbed it in circles while continuing to finger her. He brought her to the edge and, just before she fell over it, stopped, pulling his hand out sharply.

—Not so fast —he murmured against her ear—. When you come, it’ll be with my cock inside you.

He lifted her slightly by the hips and grabbed himself, positioning it right at her entrance. He brought it close until the tip barely brushed her, not entering yet, rubbing the head over the open lips of her pussy, coating himself with how wet she was, until she began lowering herself in search of him, desperate. Then he let her sit all the way down and felt her close around him, squeezing him, swallowing him to the hilt in one single descent.

—Oh, fuck, you’ve got such a big cock —she moaned, sinking fully onto him.

—Ride me, sweetheart. Ride my cock slowly.

Carla began moving up and down, rising almost far enough to pull him out before dropping back down hard. Her thighs tensed with every thrust. She slid her hands up his sides to his breasts while he kissed her and thrust upward, slamming his hips against hers whenever she came down. Her dress was bunched up to her waist, her breasts were bare, and her loose hair covered her face. He rarely took her so directly, so without ceremony, fucking her as though he had been holding back his desire for months.

Carla was overwhelmed when he caught her by the back and laid her facedown on the leather, slipping out of her with a wet sound. He positioned himself between her legs, kissed her mouth, her neck, her chest, then moved downward, licking from the center of her torso to her navel. He lifted the skirt of her dress, traced the insides of her thighs with his tongue, biting them, and buried himself between her legs, facing her pussy.

—Wait —she said faintly, closing her thighs slowly around his head—. If you do that, I won’t last.

—That’s what I want —he replied, opening her thighs again with his hands—. For you not to last. For you to come in my mouth.

He dragged his flat tongue along her entire slit, from bottom to top, very slowly, savoring her. Then he spread the lips of her pussy with his fingers and focused on her clitoris, sucking it, circling it with the tip of his tongue, alternating with hard licks. He pushed two fingers inside her and curled them upward while continuing to eat her. Carla arched her back off the sofa and grabbed his hair with both hands, pulling him tightly against her.

—There, there, don’t stop… like that, oh, fuck, Marcos, like that…

He worked her with his tongue with an insistence that made her lose control. She felt her pussy tightening around his fingers, her thighs beginning to tremble. Her orgasm came long and wild, accompanied by a moan that rose from deep inside her and a spasm that lifted her off the leather. He didn’t let her go. He kept sucking her clitoris while she came, until Carla had to push his head away because she couldn’t take any more.

Marcos moved back up her body in the opposite direction, kissing her as he went, leaving the taste of her on her skin, until he reached her mouth again. Carla was dazed and couldn’t keep up with the rhythm of the kiss. He licked her lips, full of her own release, and pushed his tongue deep inside.

—Are you all right? —he asked, smiling.

—Too good —she answered, trying to smile.

She opened her eyes and looked at him with a tenderness that undid him. She caressed his hair, still breathing unevenly. She lowered her hand over his chest and stomach until she gripped his cock, which was still hard, swollen, and slippery. She squeezed it slowly.

—Fuck me again —she asked him—. Now it’s your turn.

They kissed slowly, deeply. He pulled away for a moment only to finish taking off her dress and leave her completely naked. He positioned himself over her again, gripped his cock, and rubbed it over her wet pussy before pushing. He took one of her legs and wrapped it around his waist. Carla raised the other one as well. This time he entered more slowly, inch by inch, letting her feel all of him, until his balls rested against her ass. She clung to his back while he alternated kisses on her neck and lips, thrusting his hips in circles and stirring deep inside her.

—You’re so tight —he whispered—. The way your pussy sucks my cock.

—Don’t stop, please, don’t stop.

Marcos sat up, lifted one of her legs, and rested it on his shoulder. From that angle he penetrated her more deeply. He reached very far inside without speeding up, moving slowly, with long thrusts that drew a moan from her whenever he touched the back of her. He watched his cock slide in and out, shining with her wetness, then looked back at her face. He caressed her hair, her face, her breasts, and pinched one nipple between two fingers.

—I love you, sweetheart —he said, almost without a voice.

Then he leaned over her and pulled both her legs against his body, folding her nearly in half, her knees against her shoulders. He changed the rhythm, making it deeper and faster, slamming his hips against her ass with a wet smack each time. The sofa bed creaked. He leaned in to kiss her while holding her and thrusting harder, fucking her eagerly, without holding back.

—And I love you, Marcos —she told him in his ear—. Come inside me, come all the way inside.

—I’m going to fill you, sweetheart. I’m going to fill your pussy completely.

Carla gripped the edge of the sofa with one hand and reached for his ass with the other, digging her nails in and pulling him toward her. She felt her orgasm rising again, this time from deeper inside, driven by every thrust. Her whole body shook, a long tremor that reached the soles of her feet, and she moaned against his mouth, tightening around the cock that continued pounding into her. He held out a little longer, watching her come undone, giving her two, three, four more thrusts, each one deeper, before finishing inside her with a growl. Carla felt the hot pulses of his release filling her, and he continued rocking slowly until the final spasm, without pulling out.

He remained on top of her for a few seconds, breathing against her neck, still inside her, feeling her pussy continue to give small spasms around him. When he finally withdrew, a thick white strand trickled down her thigh onto the leather of the sofa.

They were both exhausted, though neither of them believed the night would end there.

They embraced naked, he underneath and she lying on her side across his chest, listening to his heartbeat slow down. Marcos ran his hand over her ass and left it there, squeezing it now and then as though he didn’t want to lose contact.

—You know something? —Carla said after a while—. When I bought that dress, I was only thinking about looking presentable for your family. In fact, I nearly rejected it in the store. I thought the slit in the skirt was too much.

—Well, seeing you in it was one of the best birthday presents I’ve ever received —he replied, caressing her bare back—. I told you once before: you’re my fantasy.

She smiled against his skin. Outside, the mountains were silent, and the television remained off, with Gregory Peck frozen in some scene they would finish watching the next day. Or maybe not.

Carla closed her eyes. In the morning there would be a hot tub, coffee, and a barbecue. But morning was still a long way off, and from the way Marcos’s hand had begun moving over her hip again, sliding down between her buttocks and searching for her wet pussy, still full of him, she knew that the dress had more than done its job that night.