Disclaimer: I don't own a thing

Disclaimer: I don't own a thing. Not even the computer I'm writing this on. All you'd get out of me is a weird DVD collection

Desnuda – Ricardo Arjona

He liked her all dressed up. In red, black, green or blue, it didn't really matter. She looked stunning in every color, material or design.

He liked her in working clothes. Slacks and shirts in earthly colors sometimes showing a little cleavage just to tease him, he was sure.

He loved her in bikinis. The first time he saw her in a pair he almost got a heart attack. Three little pieces of fabric in emerald green tied together and to her by strings that showed just enough to allow a nice tan and to drive men crazy. Later at home he took a great pleasure in slowly peeling them off of her.

He liked her in his clothes too. She looked way better in them anyway. The girl could really work a wife-beater like no one else. Once he even told her. She smiled that half shy half knowing smile and told him, she always thought the same about him. What a way to boast guy's ego.

But he liked her most with no clothes what so ever. All the curves and the plains in plain sight for him to admire. In his opinion there was no need to hide perfection.

On the other hand he cherished the fact that he was the only one who got to admire her body in its full naked glory. He considered it a privilege.

No clothes, no barriers, no regrets. Just the two of them giving all they had.

Pretty much his definition of paradise.

AN: desnuda (esp.) - naked