Marta sat on the train, her thoughts reflexively going over and over the greeting she so wished would be waiting for her at the other end of the train line.
... To be greeted by Him at the door with a gentle kiss. But as the door closes, the kiss to get considerably more urgent. To feel the heat and urgency coming off Him, making her instantly hot, wet and weak with desire. He would be measured and consistent in his kisses, having planned this as he saw her getting out of the taxi, but the sudden rush of passion would be too much for her and very quickly she'd be desperately trying to touch him, get her hands under his shirt, just to feel her skin on his.
He'd stop for a second, very happy that he can turn her from urban professional to wanton woman within minutes. He'd smile looking straight at her and she'd smile back, once again, momentarily, the shy girl he'd first met in a well lit public place one weekend in Autumn.
He'd take her hands from under his shirt and holding her wrists, gently raise them above her head, and push her back against the wall as his lips make butterfly kisses behind her ear and down her neck.
"My turn first" he'd whisper, knowing it drove her crazy that he wanted to teach her to receive her pleasure first.
He'd hold both her hands in one of his and he'd see her chest raise and lower, her breathing noticeably shallow as he'd begin to unbutton her blouse.
"What's this?" He'd ask as her blouse starts to reveal something very lacy and decidedly un-work wear underneath.
"I... You... I thought..." His eyes would dance, as her cheeks flushed, it was one thing to wear underwear just for him, it was another to have to tell him that, out loud, inches from his unswerving gaze. Lowering her eyes, she'd whisper: "It's for you."
"If it's for me, then I should take all your clothes off and see it fully..."
And he'd bring his arms down and turn her so her back fit into his chest and his strong arms are either side of her. Her new favourite place to be.
But then he walked her forward the ten steps to the full length mirror, and her eyes would meet his in its reflection. Her least favourite place to be.
She'd try and turn and hide from her unforgiving image in the mirror. But his arms and his kisses gently and firmly kept her where he'd placed her.
"Just keep your eyes on mine" he'd tell her as her blouse fell to the floor, revealing delicate, turquoise lace. Though he had the impression that it was her soft, white breasts were holding the lace, not the other way round.
She was nervous to be stood in front of him like this, but something deep inside tingles as she catches his smile, and relief washes through her momentarily. As his eyes looks for hers again though, the relief would turn back into shyness as she is unable to hold his gaze. Not whilst she's conscious that her nipples are hardening and her breath is getting more and more shallow.
His hands would run down the outside of her arms, his thumbs grazing the edge of the lace, grazing her nipples, already raised against the unfamiliar material.