Chapter 11: Dressing & Undressing
Kaitlyn and her mother hadn’t gotten back to the room yet, so I pulled my laptop out and started getting familiar with the cantenna rig. I used it to log into the hotel’s WiFi through a base station I couldn’t even see before attaching the rig, and I knew from that success that I’d got it working well enough.
I decided that I’d done a good bit of work for a vacation day, so I skinned down and got my swim trunks on, then padded barefoot out the door to go visit the hotel pool, a real treat to a desert rat like me.
I got down to the pool without seeing anyone, it being too early for most people to check in. At the same time, most of those already staying here were doubtless off doing whatever it was that brought them to stay here. This was a city-center hotel, not a resort. It was the same story in the pool room: I had it to myself. I turned the hot tub’s timer dial up to its limit, stepped down into the water, and slipped my trunks off under cover of the bubbles. Aahhhhhh.
The timer stopped the tub’s bubbler 15 minutes later, so I had a bit of a dilemma: I was now exposed to view from above, but no one had arrived, so I could either get up out of the water and put another 15 minutes on the timer or slip my trunks on and go for a cool-down swim. I hadn’t seen anyone walk down the hallway through the window that looked in on the pool room, so I decided to do both! I climbed gingerly out of the hot tub, leaving my trunks floating and abandoned, got up a bit of a run towards the pool, and entered it with a flat dive, ending up about two-thirds the way down the pool before I surfaced. I did a quick three-lap set with rough unpracticed kick-turns at each end, then lifted myself out of the pool, streaked over to turn the hot tub bubbler back on, and quickly slipped back into the tub.
Between the double shock of the water temperature changes, the exercise, and the thrill of getting away with my brief streak, my heart was hammering.
All the bicycling let me get it back under control quickly, but shortly after I was calmed down, some guy came in and started walking towards the hot tub, intent on joining me there! As I saw the door opening, I darted forward, grabbed my trunks from where they’d floated off, and pulled them down beside me as I sat back down, covering it as a move to a better spot in the hot tub. I lay back, held my trunks under, and tried to look relaxed.
The other hotel guest couldn’t see anything beneath the bubbles, so I just nodded to him in a manly sort of way as he stepped into the tub across from me. Then we both proceeded to ignore the other, as men will do in this sort of situation. I was hoping he’d go away before the bubbles stopped again, since I couldn’t pull my trunks on while he was there without letting him know exactly what I’d been up to.
I lay back and relaxed, deciding that it was just another guy, so worst case I’d slip my trunks on anyway and get out of there.
And then the bubbles stopped. I looked up. He looked at me. He looked down. He smiled, then said, “It looks like it’s my turn to get the timer.”
“Please,” I said.
He got out, started the tub up again, got back in, and slipped his trunks off with a grin. He then lay back and closed his eyes, still smiling, not another word spoken.
About ten minutes in, I decided I was done, and I didn’t want to be caught by any other mid-day visitors, so I slipped my trunks on under the water, did another dive and lap set in the pool, and got out of there.
I enjoyed the laps without the trunks better.
I left for my hotel room wishing I could have left the trunks off the whole time I was in the pool room.
Then I thought, no, I wished I could have left the trunks back in my hotel room! How bad would it be, really, walking down the hall in my skin, coming upon another hotel guest and having them say to me after noticing my wet hair, “How was the pool?” What is it about this social interaction that gives cause for criminal charges?
I made my chilled and dribbling way back to the room, finding my fiancée and future mother-in-law in the room lying on the beds, relaxing from their strenuous day of shopping.
“Join us,” Kaitlyn invited, “but get those trunks off.”
I looked over at Mama Gutierrez and raised an eyebrow, and she just nodded with a calm expression. Or did I see a bit of eagerness around the eyes?
I took that as permission, so I walked into the bathroom, slipped my trunks off, jumped into the shower, quickly rinsed the pool chlorine off, toweled off, and hung everything up to dry. Then I walked back out into the main part of the hotel room and slid into Kaitlyn’s arms on the bed and gave her a quick kiss. Since she’d moved to the side of the bed nearest the wall, away from the walkway between the two beds, I was left on the side nearer her mother’s bed. I took this move as a hint that Kaitlyn wanted me to show off a bit, so I rolled onto my side to face her mother, addressing my opening conversation gambit to her. “So, where’s this dress?”
I saw Mary’s eyes dart up from my toned butt as I rolled over, but she didn’t seem to be embarrassed at having been caught. She just kept looking for a while before answering me. “The shop has to tailor the dress to fit. Today was about picking the style and getting her measured. They’ll be mailing the dress down to Moab sometime next week. That’s unusual enough in itself. Usually they’d want another fitting session, but I can do any last-minute adjustments that are needed myself.”
Kaitlyn scooched a bit closer to me and began to stroke my butt and back, then tucked in tighter to continue stroking along my flank and over my chest and belly, spooning me from behind, her hot breath on my shoulder.
I didn’t want to talk about what I’d spent my morning doing, wanting to leave Mary with some plausible deniability if needed, so I continued to lead the conversation. “I didn’t get lunch. Did you two?”
“Not yet. There’s a good-looking restaurant on the ground floor. Shall we go?”
I looked over my shoulder to see what Kaitlyn thought, being unable to turn, so close to the edge of the bed and with her cuddled up behind me like that. She didn’t say anything, just smiled happily and continued stroking me. After a second I said, “Earth to Katie? The topic is lunch.”
“Don’t call me Katie,” she scolded me reflexively, though mildly.
I knew she saw it as a diminutive, but I just said, “I had to get your attention somehow. You were off somewhere else. So, lunch?”
Her smile returned, broader this time, and she ran a hand from my chest down to my belly, stopped from proceeding further downward only by the limit of her reach, saying, “Yes, I’m very…hungry.” I felt that purr through my back. Rowr!
I’d been enjoying the attention, and that comment sent a bit of a jolt through me, but it also sparked a thought. I turned my head back to face her mother, my face serious. “How much did you see the other night, exactly?”
She grinned widely and said, “Um… Everything, I think.”
“That was you tip-toeing around, then?” I asked, not sharply, but clearly not asking casually, either.
“Yes, my prospective son-in-law, it was,” she admitted. “I’d come around the house after turning off the sprinklers in the front yard when I heard that firework go off. You heard me tell Vicente to get to bed after shooting off that firework. After it lit you up, I just stood there and watched, wanting to see what you were up to. And get up to some stuff you most definitely did!” She chortled a bit at this point.
“We weren’t trying to give anyone a show, Mom!” Kaitlyn said over my shoulder, clearly still embarrassed over the whole deal. “And then you snuck closer! We heard you!”
“Yes, well, I enjoyed the show, whether you intended it or not,” said Mary. “You two are just beautiful together! Which brings me back to grandchildren…”
“Subject’s closed, Mom,” Kaitlyn shot back.
I was doing my best Switzerland impression, stuck in the middle between the two.
“All right, all right,” her mother conceded. “So, lunch, then?”
We got up, I got dressed, and out the door we went.
After lunch, they told me they were going back out shopping, and this time I was invited. In fact, required. Still playing Switzerland, I just nodded, so off we went.
We arrived at a tuxedo shop. I groaned, and the two women grinned at me. “We get to see your underwear again!” crowed Mary.
And see it they did. They both insisted on joining me in the tailoring room, me stripped to my socks and briefs, they spectating and commenting.
I just went along with it. I’d always kind of wanted a tux, in a vague James Bond fan sort of way, but actually going out and getting one? I was 29, and this was my first, so apparently I hadn’t wanted one all that badly. Well, now I had one.
“My name is Bhat. Davie Bhat,” I said to the mirror, trying to look sophisticated.
The Gutierrez women groaned, and the tailor discreetly rolled his eyes.
He must hear that at least once a day, I realized. “Sorry. Had to do it,” I apologized all around.
“We’ve got one more stop,” Kaitlyn told me.
“The tux shop sold me socks, shoes, and even a set of fancy boxers. What else do I need?” I asked.
“Not you. But never mind for now. Sit back and relax.” We all got into the car, Kaitlyn driving.
We ended up outside a lingerie store. “Ah, this is the kind of shopping I like!” I announced with fervor.
The Gutierrez women both smiled knowingly at that and led me inside.
I initially decided to just let Kaitlyn make her choices and give appreciative comments only. I’d told her once that I liked her taste in underwear, simple practical white cotton bras and panties. They weren’t fancy or overtly sexy, but there’s just something about them that makes me happy to see her in them, almost as happy as seeing her out of them.
Then I realized that I hadn’t actually seen the alternative. I mean, I’d seen women in scanty underwear; of course I had, but I hadn’t seen my Kaitlyn wearing such things. The most risqué thing she owned was a few pairs of tanga panties that she preferred when doing calisthenics, citing the greater mobility. I decided that I needed to fill this knowledge gap. Learning is what I do, I told myself, so I started pointing, and Kaitlyn started grinning wider, adding to her selection set.
Once we’d assembled several outfits, we went back to the dressing rooms. Kaitlyn’s mother sat on a bench outside, and we two went in.
Kaitlyn stripped down to her skin without ceremony and then put on a lacy sheer white set with small pink accents. The brassiere was full-coverage, similar in overall shape to Kaitlyn’s everyday bras, but it displayed her nipples and areolæ through a see-through panel in the front. The panties were skimpier, being two triangles of fabric joined by a narrow band around her hips, made to a matching design with the same sort of see-through panel in the front, clearly displaying her auburn pubic bush. My Kaitlyn keeps her bush full but neatly trimmed, and the front panel displayed it all. It was sexy as hell.
Kaitlyn nonchalantly moved to exit the dressing room, and my hand shot out to stop her, almost of its own volition, not touching hers on the door knob, just giving a caution. “I want to get my mother’s opinion on this.” When I didn’t move my hand, she added, “What’re they going to do, tell me I can’t wear underwear in a lingerie store?”
I grinned and pulled back my hand.
“Ooooh, very nice, darling! Spin around slowly?” She did. “Yes, nice indeed, and Davie likes it too, I can tell,” she said, noting my eye line.
“I like it, too,” Kaitlyn said. “Let’s get it.”
I just said, “Whatever you want, as long as we two like it, at least.”
She beamed at me, and we went back into the dressing room. Kaitlyn removed the first set, once again exposing her perfect C-cups, her carefully sculpted bush, and her amazing buns to me. I stood behind her and gave her a bit of a slow rub-down, watching her eyes close in pleasure in the mirror. Then I let her go, and she changed into the next outfit: a set of sporty orange and white striped boy shorts with a matching bra.
“You look like an ice cream treat,” I said to her over her shoulder, looking into her eyes in the mirror. She didn’t look like she was sure if that was a good thing, so I clarified, “Good enough to…lick,” putting the word into action on her neck, getting a squirm in response.
“Is that the only thing you want to lick?” she asked coyly.
“No, but this is Utah, so I think I ought to wait until later,” I replied.
“Spoilsport,” she sniffed with a small amused grin.
“I’d look less good in orange than you do now,” I replied, imagining myself as an inmate in a TV cop show.
Kaitlyn opened the dressing room door and gave her mother another show and got another “Yes” vote. A female store clerk was looking over with some amusement now.
We went back into the dressing room, and Kaitlyn stripped again. I was quite hard by this point, so I hugged her again from behind, pressing in tightly to her buns to let her know the effect she was having. She smiled at me in the mirror, grabbed one hand from her belly and moved it up to her breast, so I kneaded that a bit and kissed her neck. Then I released her to get into the next outfit, an opaque teal bra and panty set.
The color complemented her auburn hair beautifully. The bra was shaped much like a string bikini top with full-coverage cups and a fancy bow in the center with tails that led the eye down her belly. There the eye landed on panties that covered very little, being extremely low-cut in the front and with a wide-cut thong in the back that separated and accentuated her buttocks. I’d never seen Kaitlyn in a thong before, but I approved conditionally, saying, “They look great, but I don’t want you giving yourself a constant wedgie just for my visual enjoyment.”
“They feel okay right now,” she said. “But maybe I’ll get just one thong and see how it goes. If I don’t like them, I can still wear them on special occasions.”
“I love the little tuft of pubic hair you’re showing there in front.”
“You don’t think I should trim it to fit the panties?” she asked.
“No, it’s a perfect accent. Keep it,” I encouraged.
Kaitlyn opened the door and gave her mother the show, this time with a slower spin to better show off her exposed buns. Both shop clerks were now watching from a respectful distance, and I could tell that they liked the show plenty by their broad smiles.
“Wow, dearie, that’s quite the outfit! I don’t think I’d have dared wear something like that at your age,” commented her mother. “But you wear it well,” she was quick to add.
“Okay,” Kaitlyn said, “we’ll keep this one, too. Now for some accessories!” And she proceeded to walk back into the main area of the store, wearing only what she’d just shown us! Up and down the aisles of the store she walked, wearing less fabric now than made up any swimming suit she owned. That I knew for a fact, since Kaitlyn had moved in with me a week after my marriage proposal to her, so I’d had plenty of opportunity to see all of her clothing by now. She owned two swim suits, a modest one-piece that she said she wore at the community pool and an almost 1950s style bikini, giving full coverage top and bottom. This display was way out on the edge for her.
We ended up getting a matching set of hold-up stockings to go with each set of underwear, both of us deciding that we didn’t like garter belts, which ruled out silk stockings.
She added a set of pantyhose-style things that went on under her panties and covered almost nothing while drawing the eye’s attention down her toned legs with the intricate windowpane pattern cut into them.
Another addition was a white robe so sheer and lacy that it was a mere accent to the underwear underneath, not a covering garment. It would go perfectly with the white and pink set.
Then Kaitlyn turned to me and said, “All right, you need to leave now. Give me your card, and go outside to wait for me. No questions. Go.”
I handed over my card and went, a bemused smile on my face.
Kaitlyn came out about fifteen minutes later, all of her purchases bagged up, wearing her street clothes again. She handed me back my card without another word, adding a small kiss on my lips.
Later, back at the hotel room, I discovered that one of the lingerie store bags contained a taped-shut box. Interesting.