Art kissed first the nape of her neck and then her shoulders. When he realized that she was crying, he grew confused… and started to say something, but then stopped himself. A woman's tears, he recalled, were not always from sorrow or pain… and yet deep down he knew that at least part of Dot's were. He felt a part of his heart reach out toward her, but he knew the frustration he had often felt in such situations with his wife… there was only so much he could do to help. But he vowed silently that he would do all he could this time… all he could for Dorothy. His hands smoothed downward, pushing her slip along her torso until it rode up on her full rounded hips. He jumped up and kneeled down in front of her, pulling it down the rest of the way, treating his eyes to her blushing beauty, her almost schoolgirl attitude as her splendid nudity was revealed bit by bit to his lusting eyes. Soon, she was wearing nothing but stockings and panties and her high heeled shoes. Art slipped off the patent leather pumps and massaged her dainty feet for a second. Then his hands ran up the length of her calves, up to her full round thighs and then to her small waist. He hooked his thumbs in at the top of her panties and pulled them downward, exposing a gently rounded belly with deeply inset navel and then, as he continued rolling the nylon material, the light golden curls of her pussy hair became evident. She helped him a little, and together they removed both panties and stockings. Art could only sit back on his heels for a second looking at her… he couldn't remember when he had seen a more beautiful woman.

Dot felt cool now that she was naked and she felt a trembling start to take hold of her. She watched as Art undressed before her, feeling as though she were in a dream, as though this were not really happening to her… but to some other woman… some other woman who had a vague and tenuous connection to her.