She was once again alone, on a Friday night. How she hated working such late hours, even though she desperately needed the funds, in order to afford the trip to see her long-time boyfriend who lived in Portland, OR, many miles away from her own Denver, CO residence.
As she walked up the three flights of stairs to her shared apartment, for some strange reason goose-pimples rose on her arms, making her shiver in the late summer heat. As she pushed her key into the first of three locks that needed to be opened in order to gain entrance to her apartment, the door swung open silently. Shocked, and a bit frightened, she pushed it open a bit further, revealing the black interior. Her best friend and roommate was away in London, visiting her fiancé, before they both returned to the US to be married.
As she cautiously entered the front room, her breath caught. . .sitting upon her desk was a perfect bouquet of Freesia, and baby's breath, her favorite flowers, glowing in the light of a large pillar candle. Her eyes adjusted to the dim light, as they did, she noticed several other of the large pillar candles scattered around the apartment, giving off a hint of vanilla scent, mixing well with the freesia and candle wax smell.
As her eyes continued to adjust she saw a pair of black men's shoes sitting beside the side table, her interest piqued, no longer truly afraid for some reason, she ventured further into the apartment, heading toward the larger of two bedrooms, where her room was. A path of candles lined themselves up to her door.
Pushing open the door, she took in how the room had changed from her relatively plain room to a decadent wonderland. Where her bed had just this morning been left in a hasty mess, as she rushed about trying to get ready for another day at work, it was now made up immaculately, and no longer in her plain cotton sheets, but in sumptuous silks, in a soothing lavender color. More candles lit the room, bathing it in soft golden color, highlighting the dozens of bouquets scattered around the room.
Yet what caught her eye more than anything was that her bed wasn't unoccupied. Instead sitting upon the new silken sheets and velvet comforter was her love. His hair slightly mussed, wearing a beautiful open collared button-up silk shirt in white and black slacks, with sharp creases. In his hands he held out a perfect sprig of freesia, tied with a white satin ribbon. His beautiful eyes were focused upon her surprised face.
"What? HOW!" She stammered out.
"Your roommate and I came up with the idea. She mailed me her key." He stated simply, standing up slowly.
Her heart filled with joy, HE was here. They had met some months before, through the Internet, and become great friends, and then had met in person shortly afterwards, falling madly in love. But his work and hers kept them apart. Without thought, she threw herself into his waiting arms, feeling his strength and love through their passionate embrace.
Tears ran down her face, though the smile on her face made the candles seem dim in comparison. He shushed her softly, his smile just as bright. Bringing his hands up to cup her face, he kissed her lips gently, then moved to kiss each tear away, tasting the salt, and the sweetness of her flesh.
Not wanting to relinquish her hold on him, but desperately wanting to feel his body against her own, she began to frantically shed her clothing, getting as far as taking off her work jacket, before his hands stopped her. Lifting each hand to his mouth he kissed the knuckles on each, lifting his finger to her mouth when she attempted to protest.
"No, let me. . ." And he proceeded to remove each article of her clothing slowly, sensuously. His hands brushed along the sensitive peaks of her breasts, and she whimpered in need, and was silenced by his hot wet mouth and tongue invading her own. Her breathing quickened as his mouth worked her own.
Tearing her mouth from his she looked him dead in the eye and demanded, "MORE," in a low, passion-drugged voice.
