Room 711 Ch 01

She sat at the bar, waiting, nervous, swinging her legs from the tall chair in time to the jazz piano playing through the restaurant.

He saw her through the window as he took the parking ticket from the valet. She was taking a Cosmopolitan from the bartender and sipping quickly to keep it from splashing over. Dizziness floated through his knees and stomach as a thousand strobe like images flashed into his imagination. I'll need the car around 7:30, he told the valet as he traded a dollar bill for the ticket. He shouldered his backpack and headed into the building.

The electric eye opened the door and he walked to the front desk.

The filigreed glass doors to the restaurant framed her slender form. At her feet were a small carry-on and some shopping bags. She wore a cashmere black cowl neck and slacks that showed a confidence her body language could not back up. Always a sticking point, she never understood just how desirable she was.

He took care of business at the front desk and pocketed two keys to room 711.

With another long look at the blonde beauty awaiting him he strode through the glass doors. She saw him in the bar mirror and swiveled around to greet him.

He opened his arms and gathered her while she stayed in her seat.

"Its been so long."

"God, you feel so good."

He pecked her on the cheek as they held the hug.

"I can't wait to give you a real kiss," he whispered.

"A passionate kiss," she breathlessly asked?

"You told me I'd love your kisses."

"I hope you're not disappointed."

"The way I feel I don't think I could be disappointed."

They reluctantly broke their hug and he ordered a bourbon to catch up with her. They sat at the bar like the old friends they were. They chatted of this and that. A nervousness surrounding their talk, a nervousness that had never pervaded their e-mails or their heated phone calls.

Finally, he palmed one of the key cards in his pocket and placed it on the bar under his hand. He took her hand and placed it over the key.

"Room 711, this hotel. Would you like me to go first? Or would you like to go first? Or would you like to go up together?"

"Oh God. I don't know. I don't want to go up first, I know that. I think I'm too nervous to go up with you. I'll meet you up there. Give me a few minutes to compose myself."

"All right. 711."

He put the knapsack on his shoulder and headed for the elevator.

The green light flashed and he pushed his way into the room. The room was nice enough. He hung up his jacket and moved over to the double bed. He pulled down the bedspread and tossed it in the closet. He sat on the bed and took off his shoes and socks.

The CD player/alarm clock was on the end table. It was 3:15. He pulled a CD from his backpack and inserted the disc. Al Green's voice began to fill the room. He lay back on a pillow, putting his hands behind his head and waited.

The bawdy nature of his correspondence with his friend brought a smile to his face. The memory of the down right lusty phone conversations stirred him even more.

He heard a card being inserted into the door; the clock read 3:20.

"Well, I see you've made yourself comfortable," was her wry opening line as she walked into the room.

She tossed her coat and bags on the couch, kicked off her shoes and slid onto the bed.

"No, wait," he said.

He stood up and held his hands out for her. She knew what he was thinking and quickly folded herself in his waiting arms. They swayed together like they had so many years ago as Al Green pleaded for his special someone to please, "Call me..."

It was the awkward college box step where rhythm and aesthetics were secondary to the molding together of body parts. His left hand ran up and down her cashmere clad back, then his hand slid around to cup her breast. Her nipple stood out, she had told him how sensitive her breasts were, she had not lied. His right hand grasped her buttock and pulled her ever closer to him.

She reached down between them and held him with one hand, realizing that she had brought him to this peak of excitement. She had the power to arouse him. He had not lied. Soft moans came from both of them. The two were taking their time, rediscovering a passion, a lust, that had been dormant for so long.

Silently, reluctantly he stopped his caressing and gently took hold of her chin and kissed her. A long, slow, deep, wet kiss, with velvety tongues playing off of each other. It was passionate, it was worth waiting for and he did, indeed, love it.