Short Story by Sue DeGregorio-Rosen, RN, CLNC, Contributing Editor
There are dresses that make a statement. Others imitate. What will the market bear or is it bare? And there are coverings worn only for publicity and exhibition – the celebrity look. Like a faux reality television personality that looks like her dress was sewn on her. It’s the stimulation of gender reflection in a youth-based culture. And even crossdressing styles are centuries old as men wore heels in centuries past and now, they are regaining popularity. Fashion is a matter of geography, culture, time, and place. Trends come and go and are associated with financial resources and political views. And today some fashions show all the dents, protrusions and fleshy secrets, and clothes are more sexy than mere naked, and just as revealing with a suggestion more provocative than nude itself.
I wanted that look. Why? Irresistible impulse. The look of a sexual goddess. Unreachable and seductive, wanting of another’s lust. Of course, it’s superficial. But I reasoned there was a time and season for such matters. And the man who I sought understood my desires. In fact, he wanted to dress me. To surrender to him. The surrender would be in a dress that would set me apart and be a revelation to a man that I wanted to satisfy. For his satisfaction would be mine and once mine I would be in control. I knew he wanted me, and he surmised that I was impulsive enough to accept this gift. The dress that would look as if it was sewn on me.
I chose with care the day I decided, wearing nothing beneath what I presumed was a spectacular imitation or could it be singular. No matter. I was curious. I felt that impulse of insatiable curiosity transform me. Irresistible impulse. He knew my sensitivities. I knew his. He sensed such an arrangement would serve his wants. I knew that about him. So, I invited him to my place and waited as I watched his eyes scan my body wearing the gift he had delivered earlier in the day.
He knew my feminine energy was that of intimacy. I wanted more than a mere fuck. I cherish foreplay. That kind of intimacy and foreplay that would make me feel sensuous. The dress was foreplay. Imagination. And I did look amazing, as I stood in the light, the rhinestones illuminated the moment and my nipples visible beneath the sheer fabric.
I’ve been here before I thought. Fear is a useless and misunderstood emotion. He knew my threshold. “I think you are beautiful. The dress as we both know is a foreplay of our imagination. The black tuxedo I am wearing and the revealing gift…expressions of passion, desire, and courage.” His voice was a mix of confidence and hope. I like it when a man though appearing confident is not completely sure of himself. I relish the seeker. I wanted to be sought.
“Is that why you picked this style…something that a cause celebre would wear? I’m not that kind of beautiful…but you should know…”
“Each of us can create a flow like a waterfall, that leads us to transcend while being sensual and even serene. Why don’t we experiment? Let’s go down to the bistro. You’re hot. And I would bet you will see that others feel the same.” He then helped me on with my coat.
I smiled, the “hot partner syndrome” I said to myself…and donned my black faux leather trench coat. My shoes were 4” high heel sandals. I am tall, with a cascade of red curls that bounce and flirt. I knew he wanted fun. So, did I.
When I am in my own skin, I feel the sensuality vibrating from my fingertips to my hips, like a spontaneous orgasm. My wild inner-woman chooses how I walk, my fingertips decide how I touch.
I appreciated this moment as he and I stepped out of the elevator doors and onto the avenue. I had just turned fifty and he was younger than me by a decade, boyish looks, not my usual rugged kind of man. And the age difference was not really a factor. I have learned that it’s important to carefully choose our companions in all areas of life. I have found to appreciate how much we can understand ourselves through our relationships. And so, we walked until we entered a lively bistro.
We sat at the bar. I dropped my trench coat, reminiscent of some actress, which made it all the more exciting. And I watched without looking, heads turning. Nice. I cannot lie, it was an amazing feeling to be admired. That dress fit like skin, and I felt like a sex goddess. Of course, it helped that I wore nothing under the dress, and that my escort actually looked like an escort. This was becoming the erotic, enigmatic fantasy he had described, the waterfall, and I was flowing. I saw how others are seduced by the human body and with fantasy, and I had an escort to support me, as a discerning woman of passion. Fantasy was the key concept here. I became my biggest fan in a safe place. He was right, something in me awakened, I was beautiful and sexy. I felt like I could breathe in the immediacy of life.
I had crossed paths with this person only at work, where we chatted and sometimes confided in each other, and he bought me a dress, he took time to think about my needs, was this my soul mate? What was this young man to me? A soulmate isn’t necessarily some handsome young guy who will make your life better or fun or cure your loneliness. I didn’t even know him that well, yet he cared. Yet, he wanted me. Why was I suspicious? We didn’t even really know if we liked each other. But he reached out to me. People evolve and learn from each other. And we did.
An hour passed, leaning against the bar, facing my audience. A dream of being an exhibitionist was now a reality. And after a couple drinks my attributes felt more pronounced. It was then he took my hand and effortlessly kissed it. I felt a familiar chill that made me want more of him. More than just a kiss.
We were reenacting an ageless play. He was kind and sweet, and so I surrendered. I grabbed my coat, and his hand. I wanted to explore this, I asked myself could this be.
There is no manual on love and attraction that fits all. And that’s positive. The right person can be twenty or he could be sixty, but that person will help you to explore when the time comes, and the time comes gently, when the time is right. Sexual attraction is part of that journey, that arrives in so many different ways, and in my case, a dress. And if we figure out how to put that in its proper setting, perhaps more will be revealed. A soul mate is that person who touches your inner being, and when the time is right, and the soul awakens – a trust exists that somehow you may know.
And as we walked outside under a light rain, our faces wet…I thought about the mutual attraction two people have for each other, I shrugged my shoulders, placed a blindfold on my past and smiled at him as he looked at me and I softly whispered, “why not”?