In a restaurant full of beautiful women, women of fine breeding bred to be beautiful, she stood out. Sabrina was nude save for a few accessories, as was her husband to whose arm she clung, as was everyone else at the resort. Money led to exquisite things. Old money attracted the most exquisite things and the most attractive among them.
A nearby snobbish couple, sneering or leering, noticed her first – noticed them first. Sabrina’s husband, Colin, stood two inches taller than his wife even though she was wearing four-inch heels. He was seven years older than she; the premature gray at his temples suggested that he was even older than that, but his black, well-trimmed beard and his physique shouted “younger.”
If Colin’s broad chest and tight-in-the-best-way hindquarters weren’t commanding enough, then his cock more than made up for it. Even when it was under control (one would never dare put forward that it was or had ever been flaccid), the way that it dropped and swung garnered appreciative if not amorous acknowledgment from men and women who were privileged to view it in settings such as this.
One-on-one, appreciation grew, when his cock did, into awe, esteem, or even reverence. His wife was not the first nor would she be the last to kneel before it. She accepted when they first met that his cock was meant to be shared, which made her proud on the rare occasions when he chose to share her as well.
Sabrina was used to lavish affairs having grown up as a Gould, although she had changed her name to that of her mother’s family, the van de Kochs, when she came of age. Her mother’s money was even older than her father’s, which helped. Thereafter, she took her husband’s name and happily clung to it, just like she timidly clung to his arm.
But being exposed like this was something altogether different. The resort wasn’t clothing-optional; it was clothing-prohibited. Guests arrived and left clothed, but the time in between was always spent au naturel. That night’s dinner outing was their first time in public, and Sabrina was afraid of how people would react.
Colin kissed her temple. “You’ll be fine. You are fine. If you get nervous, picture people with their clothes on.”
Sabrina lifted her chin and placed one slender leg in front of the other. Her blond bangs draped just above her crafted eyebrows and her fine, waist-length hair floated to wherever the most casual breeze might take it. She fiddled with the charm embossed with the Rhodes family crest and its accompanying ring that dangled from her ruby-red silk choker.
Her breasts were smaller than her mother’s or sisters’ or indeed any of the women in her lineage, but she was proud of them and shied away from suggestions of augmentation. They might yet get bigger on their own despite her age. Most importantly, Colin liked them.
Silk wrapping that matched her choker hid the narrow belt that uncomfortably cinched her lean, shapeless waist. Two billowing silk ribbons that were attached to the belt hung down along her legs and were tied to her ankles.
Compared to many, Sabrina’s choice of jewelry was subdued yet remarkable. Three strings of rubies hung inches below each ear and a matching set swung from a slim, gold pressure clasp on either side of her lithesome penis – jewels dangling alongside her family jewels.
The clothed maître d’ escorted them across the dance floor to their table. This was the finest restaurant at the resort and reservations were limited, even for clientele who were used to getting what they wanted when they wanted it. Sabrina knew most of the people there and many of them knew her but perhaps hadn’t seen her recently.
Her parents certainly didn’t announce it when she first changed her name. Many in society superficially approved of a van de Koch marrying a Rhodes but couldn’t recall one named “Sabrina.” Rumors were whispered – Sabrina’s mother had real confidants, but that sort of secret wasn’t easily kept.
Colin and Sabrina sipped their champagne as their starters were served. She didn’t drink much, which was a significant change in her behavior from when she was younger. He promised to keep her in check and let her steady her nerves.
When Colin was younger, he was not about to have his bisexuality downplayed by anyone and so the Rhodes publicly accepted their son’s dating habits even though they questioned them in private. His keen business sense made their acceptance more palatable; nothing made old money any happier than getting new money.
“Are you feeling any better about this?” Colin asked his bride.
“No! I don’t know why I let you talk me into this. There was any number of places we could have gone that wouldn’t have involved this sort of exhibition.”
“I don’t believe that – you do know.”
Sabrina poked at her food and sipped her drink. “Yes, I know. You seduced me into it. You wanted to show me off. You convinced me that I wanted to show myself off. You convinced me that I was beautiful, and you seduced me like you’ve seduced me over and over since the day we met.” Colin pulled her champagne away. “Please, don’t. People are staring,” she said. “It helps.”
“And why shouldn’t they? Just wait until we dance.”
“I am not dancing! You’re insane!”
“You’re a good dancer.”
“Not naked! I’m not a good naked dancer.”
Colin pushed her drink back to her. “We’ll see.”
Their table was visited more often than most of the others. They all purportedly wanted to talk business with Colin, but their attentions were fixed on his wife. One couple, the Pelts, lingered longer than was comfortable until Mrs. Pelts patted Sabrina’s hand. “Let’s go powder our noses, shall we?”
Colin nodded his go-ahead. Mr. Pelts was disappointed at first but pleased when he got the up-close, below-the-waist peek at what had piqued his interest.
“Thank you, Mrs. Pelts. I didn’t want to be rude.”
“Marion – and you’re not the first woman that my husband has made to feel uneasy, Sabrina. And yours is not the first penis that he’s shown an interest in. Of course, I’ll deny ever having said that. You are quite striking. Colin is lucky to have you.”
Sabrina blushed. “I wish I could be as complacent about being naked in public as you are.”
“These people are hardly ‘the public,’ dear. I’m okay with it because I like it. You should too. Now, let’s go rescue your husband.” Marion kissed her cheek and said, “For what it’s worth, dear, I’m very proud of you. I hope to see you around the resort.”
Mrs. Pelts shooed her husband off and the Rhodes’ dinner was served seconds after Sabrina sat back down.
“Girl talk?”
“Uh-huh.”
They gossiped with each other as much as the others gossiped about them.
A man at the table next to them was more interested in his dinner than he was in the two women who flanked him. Their only-the-best store-bought tits wobbled like Jell-O molds as they animatedly gabbed, waving forkfuls of salad in the air.
“See the man over there with the goatee?” Colin pointed out. “I sucked him off a few days out of college, right after I started working for my father. Dad didn’t like that I did it, but I got the account. And you know what? A few years later, he sucked mine because I was the one who had the advantage.”
The talented house pianist read the room well, but few couples ever danced, and not for long when they did. Naked dancing could be challenging. Faster songs brought about untoward flouncing and bouncing of body parts. More intimate dances often elicited boorish erections. Now and then, some might Illicitly dare to dance and diddle. Their challenge was to finish before the song did, or before they were found out.
