I reached for them without meaning to and had to cover the move by straightening his bow tie, which put us unbearably close. “You kind of look like a stripper and I don’t want anyone to get ideas. Lose the bow tie and you’ll be good.”

“Wanna see my moves?” He gyrated his hips as he pulled the tie off. It was supposed to be silly, but it made his abs flex and roll. I felt like a cartoon character trying not to drool.

Damn him. He would need to be punished.

“Will you help me with this?” I asked innocently, holding up the bottle of lube.

He did a double take when he realized what it was. “Uh, yeah, I can help you. Where…um…what do you need me to do with this?”

“My dress. It’s latex. I need you to rub it down with lube.”

He poured a liberal amount onto his hand and reached toward me, asking, “Like this?”

“Yes, please.” I pulled my hair up and out of the way, keeping my arms raised to give him full access. “Just coat the whole thing. It makes it shine and stops it from sticking, so don’t miss anywhere or it’ll look weird.”

Like a gentleman, he wiped it over my stomach and around my waist first, rubbing down the material at the tops of my thighs where the dress ended. He circled around to the back of me, distributing some more and setting the bottle down so he could rub his hands together. He was becoming less timid and I was getting flushed with desire.

He swiped across my shoulder blades and down to my lower back, inching over my ass. He didn’t cup or squeeze more than was necessary to lube the dress, but I wanted him to.

As he reached the edge, I shifted back into his touch almost imperceptibly, making his fingertips brush the spot where my thighs met my ass cheek.

I held my breath when he got more lube from the bottle. He stayed behind me while he swept his hands under my arms and across my breasts. I had essentially given him permission to grope me without thinking it through. My stomach clenched as he rubbed over my nipples. If there had been any doubt, now he would have to be aware that there was absolutely nothing under this dress. He teased his fingers over the hard peaks, the thin latex doing nothing to diminish the sensation. Abruptly, he pulled away.

When he held his hands up in question, I pointed him to the kitchen to wash them.

“Ready?” I asked when he returned.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Seriously, if you call me ma’am again, I’m not sure what I’m going to do, but it’s not going to be pretty.”

He stalked toward me, tugging on his suspenders. “If you deliberately make it clear you aren’t wearing panties before we go out in public again, I’m not sure what I’m going to do either, but I’d like to find out.”