Slowly rolling his exhausted body to one side, we lay with our eyes closed, my fingers enveloped into his.
I can feel his breathing become steady and know that he is a well satisfied man.
I lie next to this man who I have worked for and known for years and realize I have never spent the night with him.
Is tonight the first?
His breathing becomes sleeping and I hear the phone ringing in his jacket.
Inching away from him, I step across the room and reach for his phone. I notice it is his wife and I set the phone in the bathroom, under a towel, to silence it. I didn't want it to wake him up.
Lifting his white shirt off the floor, I slip it on and button a few buttons.
Standing in the door frame of the bathroom, I watch him sleep. He looks very peaceful, so very handsome.
Vulnerable.
The wicked thought of jumping in the middle of him and riding him crosses my mind, but I drape my red dress across him instead. I can't resist painting his toenails with a single coat of my red nail polish. I brush it on lightly and quickly with silent giggles.
Taking the fruit plate and what is left of the wine in the bottle, I step out to the balcony. Nestling in a chair to watch the traffic lights zipping to who knows where in downtown Dallas on this fine evening, I wonder how many of the masses would like to be sipping wine and eating strawberries.
