Frame-10-09-2015-07-08-24

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…

 

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