She led the way down the hall to her bedroom. “I would like for you to undress me,” she said, and turned her back to him, then lifted her arms above her head. With trembling fingers, Jonathon began unhooking the loops on the back of her dress. He lifted the unbuttoned garment over her head and laid it across the boudoir chair. He then peeled the next layer and discarded it. Standing in front of him, clad in her chemise and pantaloons, she unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it on the chair. She pulled his undershirt over his head and laid it on top of the shirt. Standing bare chested, he removed her chemise, then pulled her against his chest. Her breasts crushed against him, the nipples searing his chest, he kissed her deeply. A kiss she returned with fervor. Holding her at arm's length, he said, “I want to look at you.” She did a slow pirouette, her pert breasts, as fine as the whitest marble. “You are the most beautiful woman in the world,”
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