The Red Dress
The Red Dress
Beautiful, elegant, and with a sparkly red dress that hugged every curve, she was straddling me, holding on to my hair tightly and looking straight into my eyes. They were a deep green with blue around the pupil, and her make-up was perfectly done. Her hair was in perfect dark brown waves down her backs, and I could never remember seeing anyone so perfect. Her lips matched her dress, and before I knew it, she was trailing kisses down my neck, and I couldn’t help but wonder if they were leaving prints. Her manicured nails were on my stomach, and I knew she could feel me beneath her. She squirmed and moved in closer, her chest pressed against mine. I let my head roll back to the back of the couch and let her tease me and make me want to beg for more. I knew I didn’t have to beg, though, for she wanted this just as badly as I’ve always wanted it, and I could feel it in that moment. Her anticipation was in the way she couldn’t stop touching me, her lust was in her eyes. This felt so wrong, but in all of the right ways. I finally opened my eyes when she started to unbutton my shirt. Button by button, I got more and more excited knowing she was looking at me; all of me. Although I didn’t have the perfect body, I felt comfortable with this. I didn’t feel as if I had anything to be ashamed of. She was an older woman, so I had the suspicion that she had been with all body types before. I ran my hands up her thighs, until that pretty dress of hers was up to her waist. Her lips met mine and everything changed.
I woke up the next morning in my bed. My head was swimming, a headache just behind my forehead and a feeling of nausea. I was hung-over. I couldn’t remember the night before, and at that point in time I didn’t care. I merely reached over for my glass of water and my aspirin and Gravol, which I always left on my bedside table. Call me an alcoholic; I just like to say I’m prepared. I swung my legs over my bed and then placed my face in my hands. I remember my first few drinks, and when I turn my camera on and check the pictures, I begin to remember a little more. The brightness of the screen hurts my eyes. There were photos from the beginning of my party in which most of my close friends showed up, and many of my girl friends decided to get silly with the camera. After a while, everyone seems gradually less sober. Eyes become more red, and I disappear from the photos. Fewer and fewer people are actually in the pictures as people begin to go home. Then they end. I check the time on the last picture to see that it was four in the morning. Did I just crash after that? I never remembered drinking so much in my life. My head pounded again, and I forced myself to put the camera down and close my eyes for a few moments. A red dress… that’s all I could remember. It had been striking, and definitely something that struck my memory. I resisted the urge to shake my head, but put it out of my mind. It couldn’t have been that important.
I decided, however, that a good breakfast at three in the afternoon was definitely called for. I pulled on a pair of jeans that were on my floor, and then left my room. The stairs were a bit tricky going down, due to my depth perception being understandably impaired. Once at the bottom, I smelled the familiar scent of coffee, and thanked God that my father had such the addiction for the stuff. Normally, I wasn’t large on it myself, but that morning it felt like it would be heaven. When I entered the room, Lily, my step-mother, was standing there, holding a cup in both of her hands like it was delicate. Her hair was up in a messy pony tail, and she smiled as I walked in.
“Long night?” she asked, immediately turning around to pour me a cup.
I accepted it from her, and then nodded. “Yeah, it was. What time did you and Dad get home?”
“Probably about four-thirty,” she answered. “Anyways, I should probably get ready for my business meeting. Would you care to clean up the den a bit?”
Without another word, she walked out and disappeared into her bedroom. I downed my coffee quickly, and then placed the glass in the sink before I dragged my feet to the den. I knew that there had to be a mess, for there had been a lot of people. I absent-mindedly grabbed a garbage bag and began to throw empty beer bottles and the like into it. When I got to the couch, I came across a surprise sticking out from under it. It had grabbed my attention due to the sun causing it to sparkle. It was the red dress that I remembered. I picked it up, curious to why it would still be here. Then it hit me. The brown hair, the attractiveness, those dreams I used to have. It all came rushing to me, and I didn’t know whether I should feel ashamed or proud, or even like I had betrayed. From the doorway, a voice suddenly came.
“Josh?” Lily said. I turned to look at her, and she smiled at me. It had been her all along. I had slept with my father’s wife. I continued to stare at her in awe, her dress still in my hands. She walked over to me and took the garment away and just examined it before folding it over her arm. She continued, “How about we keep this our little secret?”
I couldn’t say anything before she walked away. I couldn’t believe what I had done, but the worst part was, even though I knew that we had sex, I couldn’t remember what she looked like naked.
I woke up the next morning in my bed. My head was swimming, a headache just behind my forehead and a feeling of nausea. I was hung-over. I couldn’t remember the night before, and at that point in time I didn’t care. I merely reached over for my glass of water and my aspirin and Gravol, which I always left on my bedside table. Call me an alcoholic; I just like to say I’m prepared. I swung my legs over my bed and then placed my face in my hands. I remember my first few drinks, and when I turn my camera on and check the pictures, I begin to remember a little more. The brightness of the screen hurts my eyes. There were photos from the beginning of my party in which most of my close friends showed up, and many of my girl friends decided to get silly with the camera. After a while, everyone seems gradually less sober. Eyes become more red, and I disappear from the photos. Fewer and fewer people are actually in the pictures as people begin to go home. Then they end. I check the time on the last picture to see that it was four in the morning. Did I just crash after that? I never remembered drinking so much in my life. My head pounded again, and I forced myself to put the camera down and close my eyes for a few moments. A red dress… that’s all I could remember. It had been striking, and definitely something that struck my memory. I resisted the urge to shake my head, but put it out of my mind. It couldn’t have been that important.
I decided, however, that a good breakfast at three in the afternoon was definitely called for. I pulled on a pair of jeans that were on my floor, and then left my room. The stairs were a bit tricky going down, due to my depth perception being understandably impaired. Once at the bottom, I smelled the familiar scent of coffee, and thanked God that my father had such the addiction for the stuff. Normally, I wasn’t large on it myself, but that morning it felt like it would be heaven. When I entered the room, Lily, my step-mother, was standing there, holding a cup in both of her hands like it was delicate. Her hair was up in a messy pony tail, and she smiled as I walked in.
“Long night?” she asked, immediately turning around to pour me a cup.
I accepted it from her, and then nodded. “Yeah, it was. What time did you and Dad get home?”
“Probably about four-thirty,” she answered. “Anyways, I should probably get ready for my business meeting. Would you care to clean up the den a bit?”
Without another word, she walked out and disappeared into her bedroom. I downed my coffee quickly, and then placed the glass in the sink before I dragged my feet to the den. I knew that there had to be a mess, for there had been a lot of people. I absent-mindedly grabbed a garbage bag and began to throw empty beer bottles and the like into it. When I got to the couch, I came across a surprise sticking out from under it. It had grabbed my attention due to the sun causing it to sparkle. It was the red dress that I remembered. I picked it up, curious to why it would still be here. Then it hit me. The brown hair, the attractiveness, those dreams I used to have. It all came rushing to me, and I didn’t know whether I should feel ashamed or proud, or even like I had betrayed. From the doorway, a voice suddenly came.
“Josh?” Lily said. I turned to look at her, and she smiled at me. It had been her all along. I had slept with my father’s wife. I continued to stare at her in awe, her dress still in my hands. She walked over to me and took the garment away and just examined it before folding it over her arm. She continued, “How about we keep this our little secret?”
I couldn’t say anything before she walked away. I couldn’t believe what I had done, but the worst part was, even though I knew that we had sex, I couldn’t remember what she looked like naked.