My lazy stay-at-home Friday, started wonderfully with that car-based release of pressure. After putting our clothes back on with fumbling fingers and trying to fix both my and his hair, whilst looking guiltily out of the windows of his car, John drove us back to the grocery store. We gave each other one long, loving kiss and said goodbye. I slowly walked to my car and then equally slowly drove home, head again filled with sensory memories that needed to be processed.
I walked like a sleepwalker into my apartment and just barely remembered to shut the door. I then threw myself in the sofa, my body warm and spent, with a satisfied smile on my face. The tension I had been feeling for days was gone and I felt deliciously rumpled and very well loved.
The phone rang and I reached for it quickly, "perhaps it's John" I thought smiling hopefully.
"Hello" I answered, my voice as lazy and satisfied as the rest of me.
"Hello yourself" I heard Mary say, "is that a post coitus voice I'm hearing my dear?"
"Ehhh" I answered, once again struck by the fact that my friend was a little bit too perceptive.
"Never mind" she said with a quick laugh "I didn't call you to interrogate you; I just wanted to know how you were".
And that was Mary for you; if she worried about one of us, she usually took some extra time checking up on that person. The fact that she called to check if I was ok made me remember Rose and the way she had acted a little less... rosy that Thursday evening.
"I'm fine" I told Mary and added "but I think there might be something wrong with Rose".
The fact that Mary was silent for a long while spoke louder than words, she definitely knew something and since she didn't say anything, I guessed it was something bad. I went from calm and well pleasured to instantly anxious and worried.
"What's wrong with Rose, please tell me" I begged her. "Is she ill?"
"The only thing I can say is that she's not happy with her Iife" she answered and then continued with "I think Rose will tell us really soon what is wrong, and I think it's better if you don't say anything to her or ask her questions until she's decided what to do". She finished the Rose-discussion with a firm "you know I'll keep an eye on her and help her if I can".
Her simple explanation and my trust in her ability to keep an eye on all of us made me relax enough to laugh and tell her "You know you sound sort of like a fairy godmother sometimes".
She barked out a short laugh and then answered with a surprisingly clear singing voice "Bibbidi Bobbidi Boo".
We continued talking for a little while about simple, everyday things and I even ended up telling her what had happened between John and me, the less private parts of our story. She said she was thrilled that I'd finally met someone that was good to me and for me and after wishing each other a nice weekend, we said goodbye and "see you Thursday".
I fell back into my sofa, now suddenly sleepy; it was exhausting jumping from well-pleasured to anxious to happy-friendly. Or if it was just the pleasure after pressure part? I was about to dose off when my phone buzzed. The text message was from John and it said "Do you think we dare try to have dinner tomorrow?" I quickly answered "You, me and Sam?" and just as quickly I got the response "No, just you and me. Sam will go to his grandparents". I answered "Ok" and his last message read "I'll pick you up at 8".
I jumped out of the sofa and did a little "yay"-dance on the floor by the TV. Then that first "uh-oh, I'm going on a date"-wave hit me and I ran into my walk-in closet to try to find something to wear. Half an hour later I had found the perfect clothes for the occasion and this time when I sat down in my soft, comfortable sofa I fell asleep straight away.
- - - - -
The next morning I woke up with a somewhat strained neck, from sleeping in the sofa half of the night, but I felt a bubbly, happy feeling inside of me when I thought about my date with John that evening. Since I had slept unusually late I didn't have that many hours to anticipate and worry myself through. I started with a long leisurely brunch, reread parts of one of my favorite books and then took a long bath accompanied by soft, calming music. After cleaning, grooming, polishing, tweaking and moisturizing myself into perfection I was ready to get dressed. I had chosen my softest, prettiest and most expensive set of underwear, a black set with a gently winding vine curling its way across my bra and panties. The same vine was stitched onto the thigh highs that I fastened to a simple, black garter belt.
I walked up to the mirror and took a long look at myself. As I looked I had to smile, because I looked ridiculously happy and beautiful. I let my fingers follow my generous curves and tickle my soft skin and I could tell that my senses were still heightened. Every brush of my hands sent tingling sensations through my body, tingles that collected at my very core.
The dress I had chosen was a simple but seductive black knee-high one with long sleeves and a generous neckline. The sensual creature that gave me a saucy smile in the mirror also gave me a sense of power. The messy but classy hairdo and the high heels perfected the image. With one last application of lip-gloss I was as ready as I was ever going to be, in more ways than one.
A short time later the doorbell rang and with quick, bouncing steps I speeded to the door. I opened the door to a picture of manly perfection. Dressed in everyday, office clothes he had looked pretty amazing, dressed in jeans he had been absolutely mouthwatering. Now, in his black and white suit and shirt I almost wanted to squeal like a teenager seeing her favorite pop artist for the first time.
I saw his body grow tense at the sight of me and my sense of female empowerment grew as his eyes grew large and blank, when I greeted him with a smile. He started taking a step towards med but stopped himself, straightened his shoulders and said "I think it's best if don't touch you right now" with a slightly hoarse voice "Shall we go?"