It’s a new dress. Made of beautiful soft linen, thin straps around the shoulder and long; almost to the ground. In lovely shades of blue and white, it flows around her body as she walks on high heels: a glimpse of leg, a hint of nipple, through the semi transparent fabric. We drive up into the mountains for dinner, high above the coast and the sparkling sea below. We park in the hotel garage and walk out onto the terrace looking down at the spectacular views. As she stands at the railing, the sun is low on the horizon, its light picking out her silhouette under the new dress. Three men are sitting on a bench, passing the time, talking in their native Italian. As she leans over the railing to look out over the valley below, she parts her legs to improve her balance and her bottom pushes back against the fabric of her dress. The setting sun drops in the sky behind her and illuminates the dress, the outline of her body becoming visible through the thin material. The shape of her legs, her thighs, the groove in her bottom running down to the slit between her legs, her lips clearly visible with a few stray hairs picked out in the sunlight. The men on the bench are speechless as they just sit and stare. Not at the mountains or the sea below but at the gorgeous sight of her bottom and pussy, lips spread, just feet from their faces, clearly on view without her aware. With a flick of her hair she turns and walks on to the other end of the terrace and the moment has passed. We walk down stone steps to the village square where tourists are enjoying the evening sun. She walks with a confident, sassy gait; her shoulders back, her head held high, attracting attention as she strides across the square. Night has fallen now and the dress is opaque, still following the contours of her body but no longer made sheer by the sun’s rays. She is in a mood to shop and we browse the windows of the boutiques, displaying designer clothes, shoes, and jewellery. I decide to sit on the wall while she works her way along the square, looking into every window, occasionally leaning in to inspect some vital item. It is then that I notice a group of Italian teenagres, watching her intently. They are sitting on the ground, leaning against a wall, smoking cigarettes, hair slicked back and cool as you like. The object of their attention is the dress. The shop window that has caught her attention is very brightly lit, with sparkling jewellery and watches in the window and bright lights which dance over the jewels on display. Those same bright lights project through the dress, making picking out every curve and line of her petite body. She squats down to examine a piece on a low shelf in the window and her bottom and lips spread wide apart, the pink flesh of her vulva open, and the teenagers are entranced. They whisper to each other; one points and they move to get a better view of this beautiful woman stripped naked in front of them. After dinner we drive back down the mountain to the sea and follow the windy road along the coast. She has drunk most of the bottle of wine, as I have wanted to stay sober for the drive home. She leans back in her seat in the car and is soon asleep. The dress has a slit, and as the car weaves around corners her legs fall apart and the dress rides up, lying between her legs, her suntanned thigh on display, inviting a touch. I rest my hand on her leg; no response, she is fast asleep. I leave my hand, enjoying the contact and the knowledge that inches from my fingers is her pussy, on show only hours earlier, and now out of sight in the folds of the dress under the cover of darkness. I can resist no longer; my left hand on the wheel, my right hand slides up along her soft skin, pushing the fabric of the dress aside until my fingers meet the soft fold between leg and groin; even in the darkness the white skin under her bikini line gleams, in contrast to her tanned legs. I push the dress further and I can feel her pubic hair under my fingers, trimmed very short but they are soft and wispy, the sign of a true blonde. My middle finger slides over the soft down and into the slit of her pussy, easing into the folds with a gentle circular motion, around the tiny bud of her clitoris, then sinking deeper into the warm slick groove of her pussy. She soon reacts to my touch and an oily sheen allows my fingers to glide over her skin. I start to move my fingers faster in response to her wetness, then I push three fingers deep into her cunt as she thrust against me and orgasms, bucking her hips once, then again, then she is still; fast asleep, and I am aroused and on fire.