(Author’s note: For those of you who have been following, this is another description of a risky, nude-in-public adventure in which my wife and I engaged recently. As my purpose is to suggest such scenarios to readers who might be inclined to try them, or some form of them, I have focused more on the mechanics of the game and less on explicit intimacy. If anybody decides to try this scenario, or one similar, I hope you will write about how you found the experience.)
It is 7:30 pm and I smell Louise’s Chanel No. 5 perfume as she sneaks up behind me and puts her hands over my eyes.
“Guess who?” she says.
She steps back as I turn around.
My wife, partner and lover of many years was standing there proudly, wearing her newest, sleeveless, denim dress that buttons down the front from her neck to her knees. The dress has a single front pocket on its bodice. The armholes are a tad on the large side, and I can just make out a hint of side boob.
Louise has a naughty smile on her face. That leads me to suspect that she may not be wearing any underwear as we have taken a similar path many times in the past. My suspicion is at least partially validated when I notice her breasts wobble a bit as she moves. I can tell she is trying to stifle her bouncing breasts but with little success.
Her voice sparkles, “Let’s go to the movies.”
I reply, “Really? It’s kind of late, isn’t it?”
She retorts, “I know you’d like to play, and I have a game in mind.”
Not needing any further motivation, I get ready in a flash. I arrive at the car first and settle into the driver’s seat. Louise follows after a minute. I leave the front passenger door open for her. As she settles into her seat, I notice that the two bottom buttons on her dress are unbuttoned. They were definitely fastened when she presented herself to me earlier to make the invitation to play.
Glancing over at the bottom of her dress, I say, “What’s this all about?”
In a giddy voice, she replies that the unbuttoned buttons are part of a game she has dubbed “A Doorway, A Button.” She explains that every time she passes through a doorway of any kind, she must unbutton one button from the dress. Once unbuttoned, the button cannot be re-buttoned for the remainder of the night.
Her blue denim dress has nine buttons. She explains that, as she has just passed through the door leading to the garage and the passenger door of the car, she had to undo two buttons. On her way to the car, she calculated that she would pass through these doors so, this time, she undid the buttons before passing through the doors.
She adds, “I wanted to do something bold and a little outrageous to tease you but do it discreetly.”
With a naughty smile, Louise amplifies some of the other rules of this game. She explains that she is not allowed to hold her dress together at any time; her hands must remain at her side or holding mine. If she needs any adjusting to return to decency, she must come to me, and I will attempt to do it for her, as long as it doesn’t involve re-buttoning a button.
Louise adds that she must undo the button no later than one minute after she has passed through the doorway, assuming that she can do so without attracting attention. She says her rules for this game also allow her to stand right behind me, if necessary, to release discreetly any of the buttons. Finally, she explains the most difficult rule of all: I must behave myself and keep my hands off of her; this is all about the tease.
She suggests that we drive to the Cinema Multiplex, about a 30-minute drive from our house.
When we arrive in the parking lot, it is already dark.
We exit the car, and she says, “Hold on a second.”
I can’t tell what she is doing between the parked cars but, when she joins me, I follow her eyes down to the top of her chest where another button is undone. This button is the topmost button on the dress.
Gleefully, she says, “I undid it because I just exited the passenger side car door.”
She now has three of nine buttons unbuttoned.
We pass through the doorway into the theater building, and I approach the cashier to pay for the tickets. I feel Louise fumbling with something, right up against my back as I conduct the transaction. As we leave the cashier, I see that she has undone the second button from the top of the dress, exposing a bit of her amazing cleavage. Actually, she is showing nothing more risqué at this point than one might expect to see in any public setting. Others might be less likely to notice her uncovered flesh but I am not missing even the smallest subtlety.
Five buttons remain buttoned.
We enter the theater room. It is already darkened, and the previews are playing. It appears there are only two other couples in this particular theater. We head for the middle to sit away from them but down significantly from the top row where we normally play our risky, nude-in-public games.
After we are seated, I hop up to run back down to get some popcorn and a drink. When I return, Louise’s eyes guide mine down to reveal that she undid another button at the bottom of the dress to acknowledge our initial entry through the doorway of the theater room. I had almost forgotten about passing into the theater room itself. It has a door, of course.
Four buttons remain firmly fastened.
We watch the movie. As hard as it is to do, I keep my hands off of her. In the past, Louise has complained that, when we “play” at the movies, we often see very little of the actual film. If it is a film we really want to see, Louise said she devised this scenario to allow us to “play,” but also to see the movie.
When the movie ends, it is almost midnight. We wait until the other two couples leave the theater room and then get up ourselves to depart. We pass out of the theater room, and Louise groans that she would like to stop at the ladies’ room first. Then it dawns on her: one button to pass out of the theater room, one to enter the ladies’ room and one to exit. She calculates that she would only have one button left as she departs the theater building.
Grimacing, she says, “I’ll hold it.”
To acknowledge passing out of the theater room itself, she sidles up behind me in the hallway to remove another middle button. At this point, she only has three buttons holding her dress together: one at her knees, one in the middle and one at her bodice.
The theater appears relatively abandoned at this late hour, as we have just attended the last movie showing for the day. There are a few patrons remaining in the hallway, mostly males waiting for their females who are tending to their needs in the ladies’ room. The hallway lighting is dim, so I don’t see any evidence that any of them has noticed Louise’s ample cleavage, her bare midriff or the naked tops of her legs. Nevertheless, she adjusts her steps to my walking pace, so my body at least partially shields her from those male eyes.
We exit the building via the lesser used side exit onto the parking lot. As we pass through the door into the night air and head to the parking lot, Louise stops and scans with her modesty radar. Not detecting anybody in the vicinity, she undoes the button holding her bodice together. The top of her dress opens a bit, and I can see most of her wonderful breasts. Her nipples are still hidden but only by a margin of a quarter of an inch or less.
Only two buttons remain closed.
It is only 75 more feet to the car. Louise quickens her pace as she spots our car, her “modesty finish line.” This causes her to realize that her pace makes her dress billow open even more, showing all of her breasts and the tops of her thighs. I am rewarded by a clear glimpse of her shaven pussy as I turn around to walk backwards to get a better view of the wonderful show she is providing.
Louise finally realizes what her accelerated pace is causing so she slows down. She tries walking backwards to reduce airflow but that seems to have an opposite effect. She figures out that walking close to me seems to be the only adequate way to minimize air flow, but this comes a little late as there are only a few steps left until we reach the car.
I open the door for Louise, and she settles in. I walk around to the driver’s side and hop in. I glance over to witness her undo the next to last button as I click my seatbelt closed. She has decided to undo the button closest to her knees. Only the button most directly in the middle holds the dress together.
She made it to the end with only one button fastened.
As we pull out of the parking lot, she says, “Oh, what the hell!”
She undoes the last button, and her dress falls completely open. It’s a wonderful view.
Both of us are eager to get home as we need relief from the incredible sexual tension she has created with this wonderful tease.