The hottest red dress

The hottest red dress

He sends her a story, something he wrote almost a year ago to her, for her, because of her. He asked her the same question recently, after 3 months of silence, and after 9 months since last seeing her.

 

 

“Is there anything else you would love for me to bring you?” I ask her over the phone, during the late night telephone call on Friday night, the night before the last weekend before I board a plane to be with her, and will never let her leave my sight. We will be together for four days, where time will race like my heart with every millisecond savoured and reflected upon.

 

“All I want is you!” she answers. “Is there anything you’d want me to get you, to be waiting for you?” She exhales deeply, and I can see her nostrils flaring as if releasing passion from her core.

 

“Besides you and arriving on time?” I tease her. She arrived late last time and ludicrously blamed me for not following her ‘explicit’ instruction. Somehow it always ends up being my fault. Anything can be my fault when I am standing on that corner, below a blue South African sky at King Shaka Airport, waiting for her.

 

“You didn’t call me the moment when the plane landed,” she chastises me. “If you use your good ear at all times then we wouldn’t be experiencing such issues.” I hear her stifle a chortle as I hide a smile. “What else does your mind crave?”

 

I laugh. This woman makes me laugh, makes me overflow with happiness even during the anguish that we are both experiencing due to this unbearable distance, more than two oceans worth of distance.

 

“How about you buy something sexy to wear especially for me, and wear it when you pick me up?”

 

“How about you buy me something erotically sexy to wear – a dress, an outfit, shoes – and, one evening, take me out to an elegant restaurant to wear my surprise? Do you have any idea how much that would turn me on?”

 

I can see her, sense her lowering her eyes, blinking rapidly, her lips forming the words slowly and deliberately. I contemplate this for a second. A second too long. She does not afford me my mind’s fantasy, she has something else she needs to release.

 

“Do you know what would be even more of a turn on?” she says, inhaling deeply, deliberately. “If you bought me the hottest dress that only on my body could appear hotter.”

 

“Fuck!” How does she do that? How did I not think of that, something so hot it makes white-hot feel like the cool of an ice cream parlour’s deep freeze? “But the shops here are full of summer dresses,” I implore.

 

“Don’t be so vanilla! Your summers are like our winters.”

 

I swear under my breath. I tell her what I initially thought. If I spoke such words in the first place, in every situation most of the frustration would be eliminated. I need to learn at her pace. I need to expand my mind as she constantly does hers and with as much confidence and ease, oozing easy confidence.

 

Every minute of tomorrow I now dedicate to her. I am going to shop for my lover. She knows of some things I have already bought like chocolate and sweets. Lots of chocolate with textures, flavours and aromas including the hottest chilli chocolate on Earth that I can only hope will blow her mind.

 

All night I thought about what to buy, imagined what the experience would feel like. Shopping for the hottest, most beautiful woman I have ever made love to, turned me even more ON. How is that even possible? Where does a man who has never done this before, never mind thought or fantasised over it, start? How will I sleep? Do I even bother trying to? 

 

 

To be continued…

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