The light in his eyes shifts as he slowly drinks in all the ways I am changed …enhanced by the intervening years. I indulge his gaze–from my hair, to my eyes, my lips, to my breasts, lightly plunging from the bodice of my sheer top. I let his eyes wash over me, not even pretending not to notice. I relish the look of sheer pleasure in his face.


The tension and the heat rising between us is too great to endure. I break the silence with an inquiry.


“Did you ever think about me? I mean, before…”


“You understand why I couldn’t….”


I nod, because I do understand.


“But now…” he murmurs, letting the statement breathe into the narrow space between us like a question.


“Now, what?” I smile and cock my head– suddenly coy.


“You’re a big girl now…”


He smiles confidently, pulling a thin plastic card from his pocket and laying it on the table.


“Do you know what you want now?”


I chew my little plastic drink stir thoughtfully, pretending nonchalance as the room key waits in the balance for a decision — its smooth, glossy edge catching the late afternoon sun.


“Why don’t you come up to the room and relax for a little while? I’ll be a perfect gentleman, you have my word.”


He takes my hand with a gentle squeeze that makes me hopeful that he won’t. The possibility of my most deeply held sexual desires becoming a reality is suddenly overwhelming and I can’t help the deepening flush of embarrassment rising from my neck to my face and my legs suddenly tremble with adrenaline.


“I…hey, that stuff I said…we don’t have to, I mean…I was just…” I stammer.


“Don’t be silly. There’s nothing wrong with what you told me. I want to know more! We can just talk in a more comfortable place. The suite is quite spacious, with a fantastic view of the city.”


I take another nervous sip of my gin and tonic.  “Ummm, okay.”


“We can order lunch upstairs.” He grabs the menus and reaches for my hand. I rise to my feet shakily.


“I can’t stay long…”


In the elevator to the seventh floor we are not alone. I struggle to keep from giggling, imagining what the passengers must be thinking. It’s the middle of the afternoon. A young woman accompanying a well-dressed older man to his hotel room? Well, the implications excite the imagination. Mine anyway.

I am feeling a bit woozy from the drinks and I am grateful for a cool, dark room to stretch out in. He helps me to the sofa and spreads a light blanket across my legs. I drift into a dreamless sleep, feeling more peaceful than I can ever remember.


I wake to the sound of running water. He steps out of the bathroom doorway, drying his hands on a towel.

“Are you hungry? I ordered food. You need to eat something.”

“What time is it? How long was I sleeping?”

“Don’t worry, it’s early yet. Your bath is almost ready…”

To be continued…