Compromising Positions

 

An Adonis-like creature flashed past me and flashed back the other way.  It was my future son-in-law - stark naked.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Getting Dressed at the Hacienda Los Angeles

 

     Mary and I helped Jenny place her wedding candles around the pool and on the reception area tables. Then she led us to the suite for family and the room Mary, Jenny, Idalino, and I would dress in. I was already feeling nervous.

 

     When we arrived in the family dressing room, I found Idalino cross-legged on the bed in his shorts, downloading more music from his laptop for the reception. Mary had a bright colored scarf tied to a door knob and was wrapping it around and around.  Jenny was in the bathroom staring at her face.

 

     A huge copper framed mirror covered one wall.  The bath was a separate area with dressing table, toilet to the right and shower to the left.  Good sized, as hacienda bathrooms go.  But open.  Quite open. 

 

      I unpacked my dress and shook it out.  I lay my shoes and jewels and shawl out with it.

 

     “You can do your shower first, Mom,” Jenny said.

 

      Oh, good, I thought, I’ll be drenched in sweat by the time they all get refreshed. I rolled up my under garments and closed the door to the sleeping area. 

 

      The cold spray of the shower cooled my burning brow.  At this point, I had ceased to complain about the heat.  I simply endured in silence.  After my shower, I wrapped my dressing gown around me and headed for the makeup table. While I applied makeup and did my hair, Jenny, then Mary, took showers.  Then we rotated in front of the mirror until all the makeup and hair were done, they singing current pop songs, me, sweating.

 

      Now for the underwear. Idalino had entered the area and was talking to Jenny at the dressing table so I slipped into the toilet area as it was the only private place. It was open on three sides but luckily there was a short wall between me and the others.  All was fine with bra, panties–easy.  Then I went for the shapewear.  That total body wrap.  I had tried it on several times at home to be sure I could get it on.  Once on, it may never come off, but that was the chance you take when you want to look slim for a wedding.

 

     I got the body wrap up to about my knees and pulled.  It would not budge. The shower moisture had rendered my skin unslideable.  I pulled and pulled.  No dice.  As I stood stooped over with my hands clutching the body wrap – in my bra and panties – unable to run or hide –an Adonis-like figure flash past me and flashed back the other way.  It was my future son in law - stark naked  - lunging for a towel and then back to the shower.  All I could do was stare.

 

     Again, I tried to pull on the wrap before he saw me.  He did not look my way but I certainly saw him – in all his manhood.  My face turned red and I coughed to let him know I was there.  I peeked out from behind the wall and saw he did not seem to care. He was splashing around in the open shower and singing in Spanish.  What a cheerful young man.

 

     As the shock of seeing this boy I had met only once naked wore off, I decided to scratch the shape wear.  How bad can it get?  My stomach may stick out.  My rear may follow far behind me.  But I will attend this wedding – hell or high water – body wrap or not.  I motioned to Jenny at the dressing table that her future husband was in the shower naked.  She shrugged and said, “So?” 

 

     Finally, I was in my black dress, ruby red earrings, multicolor shawl and sexy shoes, and Idalino was in his brown suit matching his lovely skin, shiny shoes and his hair was combed. 

 

     We four stood in the huge mirror together and, on the count of three, slapped some high fives. 

“Let the wedding begin!” Idalino shouted, and slapped Jenny on the rear.

 

     With that, we walked out into the hacienda with the cow scent, the dirt floors, and the 96 degrees.  Indeed, let the wedding begin.

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