You Can Keep Your Hat On
 

She walked into the room and all I could think at that moment was how beautiful she looked in the glow of the light behind her. Her soft ebony skin that God surely kissed…smooth and flawless, the glint of her hazel eyes…the way her short boyish cut farmed her face. My heart raced as she approached, naked as she had been told.

Her walk was easy, reflecting the grace the years dancing had given her. The legs supple and long, her arms moving in unison and as she slowly spun, the curves of her hips and the wondrous roundness of her buttocks. She stood at the vanity toying with the mother of pearl hairbrush resting bristle side down next to a snub brimmed straw hat. She stood there her back to me. I could see her face in the mirror as she picked up the brush and ran it slowly from the nape of her neck down along the lines of her shoulder blades and across her pert breast. Slowly her eyes closed and she sighed as she bit gently on her bottom lip. It was all I could do but rush to her and devour her in a way that I had never done before. Instead I waited on the bed content to drink in this blessing from God.

I reached over to the nightstand and turned on the CD player. I had decided that ‘You Can Keep Your Hat On’ would be appropriate. Without missing a beat she picked up the hat and tucking her hair inside the crown placed it jauntily on her head letting the brim slide down covering her right eye. Turning to me her smile opened up and she started to move towards me in a dance that Bob Fosse would have stolen in a heartbeat.

Still holding the brush almost as a prop she continued without a word. I stood up and moved towards her. I was bare chested and wore only a pair of silk lounging pants. Soon we were face to face. I leaned in, my hand resting on her right hand, which held the brush. Taking it gently I moved around behind her. She leaned back against me as I buried my face in her neck and sighed as I took in her perfume. I let my hand trace down the small of her back and down to her cheeks. I could feel her flutter as the cool flat side of the brush glided across her twin globes.

Instinctively she leaned forward her hips rhythmically grinding against my body. I rested my free hand on the small of her back as I continued to rub her cheeks with the brush. All the while she kept the beat of the song widening her stance. I let the brush run along the inviting lines of the crease of her cheeks and down the tender flesh of her inner thighs turning the brush so the bristles caressed her. At her first shudder I brought the brush back and brought it down on her right cheek. She arched her back with the impact inviting another stinging smack to her soft rounded cheek. There were times I marveled at how well turned her bottom was from the years of dancing. There was a tautness that drew my attention no matter what she wore. Now here she was naked and willingly waiting for the kind of attention that would test her hunger for the intense bite of her hairbrush against her golden brown orbs.

She continued her dance as she turned to face me, moving to within inches of touching me. I inhaled her scent as she inched closer her head arched so that she was looking up into my eyes. I reached around taking her hips in my hands as she rose to point position putting her lush full lips within a fraction of my own. “Kiss me softly…deeply,” she said lushly. I could feel the warmth of her honeyed breath. As I leaned into her pressing softly then firmly against her she reached back her own hands covering mine, she began swiveling her hips, gently rocking the two of us to the continued beat. I felt her left hand taking my right hand and bring it back lifting it from her cheek. “Now…do it now…to the beat…” she implored me. Taking a moment to catch the rhythm of the song I began to smack her bottom alternating cheeks.

She moved with grace in her own choreographed dance. Her eyes closed tight and tiny wisps of air escaping her lips. We danced across the room the staccato beats of the brush against taught skin ringing through the air mingled with the music. All the while the hat stayed slung low casting a shadow along the edges of her face.

Just as the song finished the last sixteen bars she pushed me backwards towards the bed. As I sat she pirouetted away from me towards the mirror turning so she could look backwards into it taking in the full length of her body. She smiled at the sight of her now red bottom. Dancing back to me she lifted the hat from her head letting her bangs spill down across her left eye as she came to my side she placed it on my head and gracefully draped herself across my waiting lap just as the song finished. She looked back at me over her gracefully elongated shoulder, taking a deep breath sang the last line. “You cannnnnnnnnnnnn keeeeeeeeeepppppp your hat on!”

I pushed the brim of the hat further down over my left eye and lifted the brush high….

Ya know, I think Tom Jones would approve of this one. :) More fiction, folks.

Mmmmm--my favorite Randy Newman song--Tom may sing it better, but there's nothing like hearing Randy sing his own songs.

Oh, I think you should have had her just toss her hat like they do in "The Full Monty". Just think it would have been a nice touch.

Yes, Kate is high on caffeine again!

I thought about that...but hey, I often wear my hat while spanking.