The Basting Thread WeekendbyDixiedevil67©
It had been true romance and her heart fluttered with the thoughts of their time together. As Taylor watched the rain fall from the sky, she pulled the wool blanket around her body, and took another sip of her tea. It was a gloomy, lazy day, and she found herself sitting in the cushioned rocker gazing out the glass doorway leading to their back deck. She reflected about how she had met Michael, and how both their lives had changed forever.
She had met him at a bookstore, never intending to meet the man that she would spend the rest of her life with. He was reading The Catcher in the Rye, the same book she had picked from the shelf, and the happy coincidence provided the opportunity for small talk to develop between the two. Soon, she found herself accepting his invitation to dinner the following evening.
Taylor found Michael amusing, with a good sense of humor, something she adored in a man. She found that he was a couple of years older than she was, and he was also not bad to look at either. He stood just over six-foot tall, with a medium build and deep blue eyes. He was not particularly muscular, but his frame was proportioned and she found the way he carried himself sexy. But, the thing that stood out in her mind was his hair. He had long flowing brown hair that hung down to his chest. The mane whisked in the air as he walked and she could imagine how it would feel brushing against her body.
Though Taylor was never truly satisfied with her looks, she knew she was not bad to look at either. Standing at five-foot, six-inches, her blonde hair hung down to the middle of her back. She always tried to keep in shape, working out and watching what she ate, as well as keeping her body dark and tan, visiting the tanning salon often. But, she could tell her most valued attribute was her breasts. During their dinner, she had caught him several times catching a glimpse of her buxom globes. She would giggle to herself, as she watched him try to avert his eyes and appear like he wasn't glaring at her.
It was nearly a week after their first date before he had managed to garner the courage to kiss her, and she found his anxiety enchanting. It was a couple of months after that before he finally made his move, seducing her in the bedroom. She had seen through his subtle hints and gestures, but allowed him to perform his seductive dance and permit him a male victory. Secretly, she would have slept with him the day he had kissed her, but she found his gentlemanly ways romantic.
It was a year to the day, when he had walked with her back to the bookstore. There, in the "Classic Novels" section, he knelt on one knee and presented the tiny velvet box. Tears had streamed from her eyes as he placed the ring on her finger. She jumped up and down before screaming her answer, patrons in the store looking on and cheering. "Yes!" she proclaimed as she wrapped her arms around him.
They had honeymooned in Jamaica, and had even dared to visit a nude beach during their trip. They were both apprehensive at first, but as they realized they were not the only ones naked on the sand, and that no one was laughing and pointing at them, they became comfortable with their daringness. They relished their week together, taking in the sun, and only looking into each other's eyes.
As they began their life together, Taylor and Michael reveled in the enjoyment of being in each other's arms. They were in love, and each and every experience together was new and exciting. For nearly two years they lived their lives in bliss, but as the mundane tasks of everyday existence crept into their marriage, they soon found themselves growing apart.
Michael worked as a contractor, and his hours kept him out during most of the daylight hours. Taylor had worked her way up and managed a clothing store at the local mall. Her hours varied, but mostly kept her working until late in the evening. The discrepancy meant that the couple had little time together. They were either too tired or had too little time to spend with each other. Their sex lives grew scheduled and routine, and they struggled to find ways to spice up their relationship.
During the few times they found together, Michael and Taylor took romantic little trips and getaways. They also began playing little games with each other, trying to ignite the spark they had once felt. They had started with Truth or Dare, giving each other naughty little tasks to perform, or revealing their deepest feelings and desires to one another. They also played a game where each had written down a set of fantasies or desires. Each would draw a piece of paper from a cup, privately read the message, and then try to make the other's wish come true. They found the games audacious and fun, and again began to look forward to their time alone.
Michael's dares consisted of the usual; not wearing underwear beneath her miniskirt during a night out on the town, or giving him head as they drove home from a trip. Taylor's desires were more romantic; having him run her a bubble bath, complete with perfume and rose petals, or having him perform a sensual massage by candlelight, with body oils and some soft music. But, each worked hard to try to please the other and be sensitive to their needs. They found their efforts stimulating and that the flame in their hearts had never really died.
Taylor smiled as she reminisced about their early days. Pushing back in the chair, she watched the precipitation fall across the flowerbed at the edge of their patio, the blooms twitching as the raindrops struck their delicate petals. She looked on as the filtered daylight slowly faded from the gray skies, nightfall pushing its way forward. Turning back in her chair, she gazed at Michael as he napped on the living room sofa. Her face beaming, she softly whispered, "I love you."
"Can I have a spool of basting thread please?" Michael asked with a devilish grin.
The woman behind the counter peered at him from over her horn rimmed glasses. "Hmm ... basting thread," she pondered aloud. "Basting thread. Ah, yes. I think I know what you mean." Michael watched as the fabric store clerk shuffled from behind the counter. She was a frail looking woman with white hair, and he helped her open the swinging half door that separated the checkout compartment from the customer's area of the store. He watched as she hobbled her way over to a large rack, hanging on the wall near the back of the store.
Raising her hand up to her face, the woman pushed her bifocals up on the bridge of her nose and scanned the various spools of thread that hung on the rack. The display gave the illusion of a rainbow as the assortment gradually blended from red to violet. "Here," the woman said as she looked at the top of the rack. "I think this is it."
Michael reached up and grabbed one of the spools. Holding it up to his lips, he lightly blew a faint layer of dust from the top of the white cylinder. The spool was neatly wrapped in a thick white strand, and the label read, "Polycarbonate Basting Thread -$5.99."
"We don't sell too much of that these days," the woman explained. "Not too many people quilt around here anymore." She looked at Michael and smiled. "Are you planning on doing some quilting young man?"
Michael grinned. "No, no ... This is for my grandmother."
The woman chuckled as she made her way back to the checkout counter.
As Michael paid for the items he couldn't keep his mind off of his devious little plan. It was going to be a bit of playful revenge on his wife, Taylor, who had played a practical joke on him about a month earlier. While staying at a motel she had dared him to run out to the car, on the other side of the parking lot, and retrieve a small makeup bag she had left sitting on the front seat. They were parked in the rear of the motel and it was dark outside. The parking lot was also nearly empty, and she dared him to perform the task totally in the nude.
Never one to reject one of his wife's challenges, Michael accepted the dare. Their life had been dull and ordinary for several months and he thought a little excitement might spice things up. Besides, if he completed the dare, she would then be obliged to perform a task of his choosing.
After surveying the parking lot, he stripped down and stood at the doorway naked. He watched as Taylor pressed the "unlock" button on the car's keyless entry on her key chain, the vehicle chirping and blinking its headlights in response. It was a warm summer evening, and he could hear a chorus of crickets and tree frogs as they serenaded the night. The car was parked under the only street light in the lot, and the illumination bathed the vehicle in a harsh blue glow.
Darting out the doorway, Michael ran to the vehicle, and quickly opened the driver's side door. The night air was cool on his body, and he could feel the warmth of the day as it radiated from the pavement beneath his feet. Reaching inside, he hurriedly grabbed the bag and slammed the car door shut. Turning, and running as fast as he could, he once again heard a chirping coming from the car as Taylor pressed the "lock" button on her key chain.
"This is too easy," he thought as he slowed his pace, nearing the motel doorway. He looked at his sexy blonde wife standing on the other side. He could sense his impending victory and was already thinking of some sort of dare he could make her perform. It was then that his heart sank as he watched Taylor grin and shut the door in front of her.
Michael quickly made a dash for the doorway, grabbing at the doorknob. He could hear a click, and Taylor's uncontrollable laughter from inside, as she locked the door. "Very funny," he said as he knocked on the entrance. "Okay ... let me in now."
"Who is it?" Taylor giggled.
"It's a special delivery," Michael answered with a laugh. "I have a special package to give you."
"Sorry," Taylor replied. "I haven't ordered any package. Maybe you have the wrong room."
"No," Michael answered. "It says right here, 'The evil woman in room 116.' I'm pretty sure I have the right room."
Just then Michael was startled as he heard a click coming from the room next door. He pressed his back against his motel room door, holding the makeup bag in front of his dangling manhood. Trying in vain to hide himself, he watched as an older woman emerged from the doorway and fumbled with a set of keys in her hand.
As she walked past, she looked over at Michael, eyeing him up and down. "Good evening," she said with a smile.
"Hi," Michael answered as he stood like a statue against the door.
As the woman continued to walk towards the front of the motel, she turned. "Oh," she said as she looked back at Michael with a grin. "I didn't order a special package either."
Michael could hear Taylor's muffled roar of laughter coming from behind the doorway. The hooting was only interrupted by the occasional snort as she gasped for air. He watched as the woman turned, and with a chuckled walked to the other end of the building.
Michael laughed as he thought about that evening. The woman behind the counter gave him an inquisitive stare as she looked up at him. "That will be $6.53," the clerk said as she brought her glasses down to the end of her nose.
Michael tossed a ten-dollar bill on the counter. "Keep the change," he said with a grin.
"Thank you," she replied. "And you have a wonderful day."
"I plan on it," Michael answered with a smirk.
Michael looked at the yellow fabric in his hands. The bikini was small and one of Taylor's favorites. The swimsuit fit her perfectly and the under wire cups fully supported her buxom 38D breasts. He hated to destroy the item, but for his plan to work he would have to use bathing suit she wore often.
He was familiar with basting thread from his grandmother. She would use the thread to tack quilts and alterations in place until they could be sewn. Once the items were fully stitched with cotton thread, they would be washed and the basting thread would simply dissolve, leaving no trace of the tacking. He thought it would be funny to alter the bikini and get Taylor to wear it. He imagined a drive up to a secluded swimming hole that they often visited, where he would watch her surprise as her wet swimsuit casually fell to pieces, leaving her in full display before him.
Utilizing a small razor, Michael carefully cut at the stitching at the seams of the garment. Using tweezers, he pulled away the frayed remnants of the thread that once held the swimsuit together. He worked diligently, trying to only cut at the threads and not into the delicate fabric of the suit. He found his days as a bachelor came in handy for this little task. During his time living alone he had been forced to learn how to sew. Money was tight back then, and he learned how to mend his own shirts and socks, rather than buying new ones.
Soon, Michael found himself with individual pieces of fabric. The tie straps on the top of the bikini were separated from the cups, and the Z-shaped seam that attached the hook, on the back of the top, had been carefully and cleanly removed. Both seams attaching an O-ring that held the cups together in the front of the swimsuit, had also been removed, as well as the thread holding the tie straps on the bottoms.
Squinting his eyes, Michael tried several times to thread the needle. He steadied his arm on a table as he attempted to insert the fiber into the tiny eyelet. Finally hitting the mark, he pulled a long strand through the needle and doubled the thread upon itself. Using a pair of scissors, he cut the strands leaving a couple of feet of excess. Turning all the pieces around, he began to sew as if the garment were inside out. He worked meticulously, trying to keep his stitches small and inconspicuous. With a little luck she would never notice the hand-sewn alterations.
Michael worked for a couple of hours as he reassembled the bikini. Trimming the last stitch flush with the scissors, he then carefully clipped any frayed remnants from the garment. Grabbing the top with both hands, he held the item up to eye level and surveyed his effort. He gave a smile as he looked at his handy work. "This is going to be great."
As Michael lay in his bed, he looked over at the clock on the nightstand. It was 6:32 a.m. and his mind was still in the morning haze of consciousness. It had been three and a half weeks since he had set up his little plan, and he had yet been able to pull it off. Each weekend had brought disappointment. During the first weekend, it had rained from Friday morning until midday on Sunday. The following weekend he had been called into work, and the weekend after that Taylor had to fill in for a friend at her place of employment.
It was again Friday and he began to think he would never be able to play his little joke. But, today he had the day off of work and he thought he might ask Taylor to go swimming later in the afternoon. His plans were once again dashed, however, as Taylor bounced into the room.
Still half asleep, Michael's attention was drawn to his beautiful wife as she meandered around the bed. She was naked and had a toothbrush in her mouth, working the implement back and forth across her teeth. Her form was sleek and tan, and her golden blonde locks feathered gently down to the middle of her back. He watched as she walked. He particularly liked her firm little ass, as it bounced and wiggled with her stride. "What are you doing up so early?" he asked.
Taylor quickly turned and looked at Michael. "Oh," she said in a surprised tone. "I didn't know you were awake." She smiled as she jumped into the bed beside him. Sitting on her knees she continued to brush her teeth. "I have a surprise for you," she sputtered.
Michael raised his head off of his pillow. "A surprise? What kind of surprise?"
Taylor reached down and ran her fingers through his long, wavy brown hair. The mane was disheveled from his night of slumber and she ran her fingers through like a comb, attempting to straighten it out. "We are going to the beach," she giggled.
"Huh?" Michael asked as he sat up in the bed. "The Beach?"
"Yep," she answered excitedly. "I think we've been in sort of a rut lately. We've been working so much, and we haven't had any time to ourselves. So ... I booked a room at the Sunshine Inn."
Michael's face lit up. The Sunshine Inn was a little motel they had found right on the beach, about three hours drive from their home. It was a quaint little establishment on a public beach, but it had charm and they had spent many a fun weekend there. "That's awesome," he replied. "It will be so good to get away."
"Well," Taylor responded laughingly. "What the hell are you waiting on? I'm already packed."
Michael watched as Taylor hopped from the bed and made her way to the bathroom. Excited, he sprang up from the bed and sat on its edge. Reaching up with both hands he rubbed his face, trying to wipe the grogginess out of his head. Looking through his fingers he could see Taylor's suitcase sitting on a table in the corner of the room. "This is a great idea," he yelled. "You are awesome!"
"I know," was the reply coming from the bathroom, followed by a snicker.
It was then that Michael had a worrisome thought. "The swimsuit," he said under his breath. He had meant for his little joke to be played out at a secluded spot, where it would just be him and her. But, the Sunshine Inn was located on a crowded beach with hundreds of people around. If she were to wear the bikini there, he would never hear the end of it.
Quickly he jumped from the bed and walked over to the suitcase. He peered over to the bathroom doorway and could hear Taylor as she ran the water in the sink. Unzipping the luggage he pulled out the outfits she had packed for the trip. On top there was the always-popular, little black dress, followed by a nice blue mini dress that he favored. He hurriedly flipped through the other garments until he found what he was looking for. She had packed her black bikini for their weekend.
Michael let out a sigh of relief as he carefully placed the clothes back in the bag. "Thank God," he whispered. He let out a chuckle as he rubbed his forehead and made his way to the bathroom. Walking up behind Taylor, he wrapped his arms around her and gently kissed the nape of her neck. "I love you," he whispered as he gazed up at the vanity mirror.
Taylor smiled as she raised her hand up and softly caressed the side of his face. "I love you too sweetie."
Michael pulled the covers over his head as the sunlight beamed through the sliding glass doors. At first he wondered why their bed was so hard, but as his mind cleared from his sleep he remembered he wasn't at home. Poking his head out from the bed sheets, he looked around the motel room. It was a small room that had probably not been remodeled since the inn had been built in the 1970's.
"Taylor!" he called out. "Are you here?" Raising up in the bed, Michael scratched the top of his head and tried to regain his memory from the previous night. They had arrived at the inn just after noon. After checking in and unpacking, they decided to drive around town and do a little souvenir shopping. They had then visited one of their favorite little seafood restaurants and had a few drinks, followed by a romantic walk on the beach. By the time nightfall came they had visited a local nightclub and had a few more drinks. That is where his memory began to fade.
Looking over at the nightstand, Michael found the room's digital clock. It read "10:05 a.m." and he looked at his watch to make sure the time was correct. "Taylor!" he again cried out. Slowly dragging himself out of the bed he walked over to the bathroom door. The small room was dark and empty. He realized he was naked and he quickly grabbed a towel and wrapped it around himself. He then walked to the room's front doorway and opened it. Sticking his head out, he looked in both directions down the motel's walkway. No one was around.