Crista waited nervously sipping her latte, every swing of the coffee shop door vibrating through her body and unsettling further any composure she had left. For ten years she had been faithful, a decade of quiet obedience to social normalcy and family. In her purse were well thumbed pictures of her children, joyful offspring of her long term relationship and the core of her existence. She couldn't really remember when things had changed, wasn't certain when the light bulb finally burned bright in her mind but now, this moment, she found herself sitting fidgety, waiting for the Armageddon she know was coming.
At first she had felt in control. What harm could a little conversation do? Perhaps the very action of sharing her need for more would somehow make it seem less weighty. At first things seemed as she had planned. He was nice enough, funny, clever, intriguing, but she was in control and felt free enough to share intimacies normally kept locked deep inside. The day had flown by wonderfully, humdrum activities made almost enjoyable by the steady stream of messages lighting up her cell phone. It took a while for her to realize she was aroused, not the usual physical sensation of wetness resulting from naughty thoughts or actions but something deep inside of her psyche that hadn't been touched for what seemed a lifetime.
For the fifth time Crista checked her appearance in the mirrored wall opposite. Money was scarce and the clothes she wore were simply a reflection on the need to spend what cash there was on necessities. The jeans fitted nicely, mid-waist with boot cut legs they accentuated her shape wonderfully. Her white shirt was clean, well pressed and the two open buttons at the top suggested the rise of her cleavage perfectly, the black top nondescript but somehow made the outfit complete. The black flip flops were almost two casual. But she had nice feet, often complimented on and felt quite comfortable showing her carefully painted toe nails.
She had avoided making the error of too much makeup. Her eyes were a great feature, just a touch of mascara to the lashes and some darkness added to her well-formed eye brows enhanced her hazel irises depth within sparking white surrounds. A little color to her well-shaped lips and she was happy. Casually she passed the tip of her tongue across their fullness and suddenly realized her mouth was dry. The nervousness made her smile, her wriggling stomach reminded her of the feeling she had when he complimented her as he often did. She flushed a little and knew she was wet again.
Her cell phone buzzed, dancing happily across the table as it vibrated. The text was short and frustrating.
"You look beautiful. Go to room 211 at the Economy Inn."
Crista was a little put out. Firstly he must have seen her and not said hello and going straight to a motel room was a little seedy. The phone danced again.
"I need you badly but I want it to be very special."
Damn now she was hot. Special? She had no idea what he meant but suddenly she realized her nipples were trying to push their way through bra and shirt simultaneously. Rising hastily she went to the counter to pay for her latte.
."All paid ma'am, the gentleman covered your bill when he left."
"Ohh, okay."
Crista smiled sweetly at the barista to cover her confusion.
"He left this for you."
"Thank you."
Crista picked up the key-card and walked straight to the motel just next door. Room 211 was on the second floor, at the very end of the block and looked expensive. The room was large, two king beds, a 48" television enclosed in a black lacquered wall unit, a nice looking dining table with two chairs and a comfortable leather look couch and matching lazy-boy. Crista threw her purse on the nearest bed and headed for the bathroom, nerves and coffee were getting the better of her. The bathroom was huge, a tub with water jets and a walk in shower unit large enough for a party. She absent-mindedly started counting the plush towels but gave up at twenty two. The flush of the toilet almost deadened the buzz of the phone still in her purse but somehow she had known it would ring. The text was breathe taking.
"Glad you like the room. Lean against the table with your back to the door and no peaking."
She heard the door open and with great control just managed to stop herself looking. Her palms were pressed flat on the table's shiny surface and she could feel the perspiration between her skin and the wood start to pool. His footfall was soft but the hairs on the back of her neck told her he was standing close, very close.
"You're like a dream come true."
The words whispered in her ear made her quiver but the breathe caressing her skin as he spoke caused her cervix to cartwheel and crash against her womb.
