"Fuck."
"Don't swear." Jenny's best friend, Amy, perched at the end of Jenny's bed, calmly polishing off the last of Jenny's double chocolate chunk ice cream. Normally, Jenny would eat half of it herself, but the date she had planned, was not like the others she'd been on. Jenny was not a prude, but her fantasy of a dominant male lover was about to come true. This was not a time for ice cream, but shoes.
"May I ask what the hell it you are doing?" Amy asked, while she waved her spoon in the air. It looked Ay was casting a spell with a magic spoon for a wand.
Jenny plastered on an overbite smile as she nabbed a wayward high heel, "Pardon me, Miss Perfect, I can't find my black underwear. Where the fuck are, they?"
"You have what? Fifty pair now? Why does it have to be this particular pair?" Amy stuck a spoonful of ice-cream into her mouth. How that woman stayed a size four at fifty while eating a steady diet of crap, always amazed Jenny.
She thought about the answer why was it this pair? "I don't know, they make me feel...sexy." It was the best answer she had. Nothing in her life was the way she'd imagined it in her mid-forties. She'd turned out okay, was happy, healthy and complete, but she wanted... Sex. She wanted hot sex, with the man she was going to see. Maybe sane was not on her list of accomplishments, but she was excited for tonight.
"Oh, whatever, you can feel sexy in anything. "Amy flipped her hair. "I pronounce you, sexy and kinky."
"Gee, really? You think?" Jenny shot back. "Now get off your ice-cream stealing butt and help me find my freaking undies."
"Do you mean, these?" Amy held up her spoon in triumph, Jenny's black lace panties dangling from the silverware. With a flick of her wrist, Amy lobbed the errant panties off in Jenny's direction. Half prepared for her friend's antics, she reached up, snatching them from the air.
"You are going to make me late."
"And you're horny, but that's not new either. What are best friends for?"
Jenny stuck her tongue out and headed for the door. "At least I'm not elbows deep in chocolate ice cream, anymore."
Jenny ducked out of the room as the spoon thwapped the wall next to her.
"Have fun sweetie."
"I always do."
An hour later Jenny pulled up outside the boutique hotel Michael had booked for their date. A date with a purpose. She'd met him weeks ago, and a few coffees and lunches later, he'd asked her out overnight. A hotel overnight, a man and a her. A fifty-something divorced mom of two. What the hell had she been thinking? The valet smiled as she pulled up, it should have reassured her, but the lump in her throat stopped the, "thank you," that rose automatically. Nervous, she felt so nervous and nerveless.
Her phone buzzed, Amy texting her. "How's the hotel?"
"Schmancy." Was her text back.
"May I help you?" The receptionist seemed warm and friendly, neat in her uniform and perfectly polished fingernails.
"Yes, I'm, um," Jenny cleared her throat, "here to meet my boyfriend." Was her voice shaking? Crap, that was the last thing she wanted, to sound as nervous as she felt.
"Yes, he's waiting for you in the bar." The woman's smile was sincere as she pointed in the direction of the bar. Have a nice evening. Jenny smiled. She intended to.
With a small smile, Jenny headed toward the bar and what she had quietly told herself, was her fate.
Jenny stood at the entrance to the hotel bar and swiped her hands across the skirt of her dress, for what felt like the hundredth time. She was a wreck. Cold and clammy was not the greeting she'd planned for Michael. Confident, cool and collected, had been the strategy. Oh well, the best laid plans...
Her go-to attitude, in the face of all things nerve-wracking, was to dive in and experience life. Maybe her attitude was on vacation tonight. She was not feeling at all like the strong woman she was normally.
Michael sat at the bar, looking confidant and sexy. He was not tall, he was not broad shouldered, but his presence commanded attention. With a drink in front of him he was speaking to the bartender in his usual easy-going manner. The man had a skill for effortless verbal exchanges. Probably why Jenny was happy to go out with him as much as she did. He looked so calm; how could he be? She was a wreck inside. He waited, in seeming calm, but the slightly predatory look in his eyes when he noticed her, felt and very male.
He was waited for her. Handsome. Older, salt and pepper hair, in theory, exactly what Jenny wanted, but tonight would test her theories. Probably proving her wrong. "Please don't make a total ass of yourself, Jen." she whispered.
She dropped her shoulders, unclenched her jaw and walked with purpose toward Michael, her fate, whatever this was.
"Hi." What a lame greeting. She smiled to cover up her nervous hello.
Smiling, Michael rose, pulling the bar stool for Jenny to sit in one smooth motion. "Would you like a drink? It might loosen you up."
Jenny wasn't sure a drink would loosen anything, but her tongue, but she nodded anyway. "Expresso Martini."
He ordered another drink for himself and her martini. Jenny sat awkward and nervous, until the drinks arrived. At least she had a straw to play with. Maybe that would cover her nerves? Probably not, she thought.
His gaze, arresting, brown eyes, intense and masterful. He was so... so alpha. The weeks of texts, phone calls, casual coffees, had not prepared her for tonight's invitation.
"You look lovely."
She blushed and looked down, "thank you."
A finger reached her chin and pulled her face up towards him. "Never lower your eyes in public to me. I want to see your eyes. You may save that for private time."
Jenny could only nod, the lump in her throat felt constricting, making words difficult.
"Take off your panties and hand them to me."
Jenny felt her eyes widen. "What?"
"Take your panties off and hand them to me. I'm not going to ask again."
The implied threat in his voice made her want to challenge him, say no, but Jenny was not about to tempt fate more than she had. Part of her wanted to run, not step into this world of fantasy she'd imagined for years. The part of her that wanted this man, rose from her seat, only to feel a hand on her shoulder, pressing her down.
"Where are you going?"
"To the bathroom, to take off my panties." It came out as a whisper, childlike, a bit scared.
"No, take them off here."
"No, I..." His eyes. The intense stare did not waive. She gulped.
"Okay." With a quick glance around, Jenny reached to the bottom of her dress, with a nervous glance to make sure no one was watching, she slipped her hand up her thighs and to her black lace panties. Slowly, trying not to be noticed, she pulled them down, inch by inch, until she'd wrestled them to her ankles. Reaching down she balled them up and placed them in his waiting hand.
"Thank you. I prefer you comply the first time, but I do enjoy watching you squirm. Are you ready to obey me?"
"Yes."
"I can't hear you."
His fingers reached up, touched her face, running down her jawline in a sensuous caress. They stroked her cheek, with kindness and gentility. She felt her jaw relax; her nerves still. The butterflies still danced in her chest, but she felt far more comfortable than when she walked in.
"Yes." This time her words audible, but her voice cracked a bit.
"Good girl."
Oh God that did it. Her thighs dampened with her need for this commanding man. Her breathing shallowed, desire curled in her belly like a contented cat, and purred.
