Monday, October 20, 2008

Ode to a little black dress

My luckiest piece of clothing was my little black dress.
It clung in all the right places, my silhouette,
Flowed out to show off my legs.
Men always loved them, especially in this dress.
I was twenty-eight when I bought it.
I've owned others. But this was the
One.
I've had other lucky clothing. My khaki miniskirt
In college, my power suits with skirts just above
The knee, my muscle T-shirt, worn braless
On Saturday mornings to get a mocha at Uptown Espresso.
But I loved this little black dress above all.

When I was twenty-eight and powerful, such a powerful
Age for a woman, my body still taut and youthful
But my mind wiser.
This little black dress got me lovers
And got me into trouble.
It ended up on the floor at the foot of his bed.
It bunched up against a wall as he fucked me
Standing.

I was reminded of this the other night,
As I walked in the misty black air along the Seine.
I was alone, wearing garters and black stockings
Under a longer dress. But no fun for Linda.
I have duties, responsibilities, minders, a firearm.
Your national security. My sexual insecurity.
Still,
I wanted to feel sexy as I walked, then I heard her.

A cascade of moans and cries and oaths
In a French soprano voice. She never stopped.
I saw them under the ancient bridge. He had her,
Up against the wall. She in a little black dress,
His pants were down, his hip muscles tensed
As he fucked her with madness.
Impaled.
I had been there, mon cheri. Louder than you.
I could see her pale face, red hair,
black dress. Him, his skin was coal black,
Glistening as he took his fair maiden.

She looked at me and we exchanged souls
For a moment. She looked twenty-eight. I told
Her of the lifetime of fucking she had ahead.
Each one wonderfully different, each heartbreak
Worth it.
My black dress would get scuffed and sperm-stained
With all my adventures, with my running from
One lover at eight to another at midnight.
They didn't know they were sharing my
Pussy.
Ah, but my little black dress knew.

They just wanted my legs wrapped around them,
My red hair thrown back and my screams
Validating their manliness. And they did.
They wanted the cute redhead in
The little black dress.
I killed at parties. Made wives went crazy.
Their husbands in a trance, Linda's
Legs.
So many lovers came magnetized to that dress,
And a girl-woman, twenty-eight.
We all got what we were after, right?

I stood there on the storied riverbank,
Paused, a little tingle behind my knees,
As I watched him fuck her.
So much of life flowing by.

8 comments:

CyberStrike said...

Wonderful, simply Wonderful.

Paris, what a perfect setting.

Is this what memories are made of?

MarciaMarciaMarcia said...

I got very hot and very nostalgic reading your post. I had a similar little black dress when I was younger, and, wow, it sure got me attention. And some of the best sex of my life. The men were soooooo aroused by me in it, and "took it out on me" in bed!

Merlin said...

Just because the years have passed doesn't mean the little black dress can't help you get more action like that.

Kate said...

You're such a genius.
I want to be you when I grow up.

I need a little black dress to end all little black dresses. I've never had an item of clothing like that, but I guess I'm still young.

The thing that gets me my horny fanboys is when I bust out my Russian accent. Woo-hoo, theatre experience! Getting me laid since 2003!

Love,
Kate

Linda Sue said...

Happy hunting, sexy Kate. Or, should I say, "Katya"? :-)

Megan said...

I'm grown up and want to be like you! My husband is a dead battery, so am ready to step out on the wild side. Maybe I'll tell all on your blog!

Anonymous said...

Black dresses make me wet.
I had just started an affair with a college guy who I met for coffee and took him home. When I told him that my husband insisted the floors be spotless and the windows crystal clear, he fucked me on the floor and in the upstairs bedroom standing looking out the back window. I tried not to call him but I only lasted three days. We were going to a dinner dance at the country club and hubby was in the shower. He asked what I was wearing. A sheer black dress, I said. He had me touching myself and
told me to take off my panties before we left the club, to leave the door unlocked and he would see me later.
When we got home it was not fifteen minutes before my husband was asleep and less than ten after that and with that black dress hiked to my waist, my young college lover fucked me nearly senseless. I never wore it again.

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