“Unzip,” he says.
Grace nods once, slightly, and turns around so that Rodrick can see her back. Her dress swishes a little at the bottom, close to her ankles. Her head turns, as she looks over her shoulder at him. Making sure he is watching.
Of course he is.
Her hand reaches behind her, to her back. Her elbow sticks out like a V that’s fallen down, landing on its side. Her fingers find the top of her dress, slide along to the center of it, and stop at the zipper’s tab. Her fingertips pinch the tab and pull it down. As the dress is unzipped, the sides of it widen in a V that opens like a flower expanding in the sunshine. More and more of her skin appears. There is no bra strap. The curve of her back, from her shoulder blades, the line down the middle, to a slight curve at her lower back. The zipper stops right before her ass.
Grace’s eyes look at him, waiting for his next instruction.
“Pull the sides apart further,” he says.
Her hands move the straps off her shoulders, and they drop in arcs. She holds the sides of her dress and push them down, to her waist. She is now topless. Her back is still to him, and she sees that he appreciates it, not wanting to rush to see her naked breasts, and enjoys seeing the beauty of a woman besides the obvious parts that most of her previous lovers leapt to.
“Push the dress all the way down,” he says.
Her hands, which still grip the sides of her dress, push it down, over the curves of her hips and ass cheeks. Then she lets it go, sending it to the carpet. She’s not wearing any panties.
Rodrick’s eyes descend down her body, relishing in her ass and legs.
“Step out of the dress,” he says. “Leave your shoes on.”
She takes two small steps forward, out of the circle of her dress on the carpet. Still, she gazes over her shoulder at him. Watching him while he studies her body, and she awaits his next instruction.
“Turn around,” he says.
She turns slowly, patiently, giving him a slow unveiling of the nakedness of her front. Again, his eyes descend her body. At first, she feels a little awkward with this intense study of her. She’s seen her reflection in a full-length mirror and has noted parts of herself that she’s not really crazy about. But his eyes do not show any disappointment. There is no expression on his face of wishing anything about her body was different. Instead, he looks to be carefully surveying her body as if to report on it later. Which maybe he will. But she cannot think about that right now, as her previous lovers surely talked about her, just as she had talked about them.
Rodrick places his tumbler of Scotch on the side table. He uncrosses his legs, then he stands up from the dark brown leather armchair.
to be continued…