Our e-mails flew across the miles in rapid succession. The closer we got to his arrival date, the hotter the messages became, stoking the fires that burned silently.
"What are you most looking forward to?" I wrote.
"That's easy. Our date. Sitting across a table from you, sharing a bottle of wine, and looking in each others eyes." He responded.
And so here it was "date night" and I dressed in one room while he dressed in the other room. We were to meet for cocktails on the lanai and watch sunset. As I was drying my hair a light tap on the door signaled that he was there, "Would you like an appetizer?" he asked through the closed door.
"Yes, please!"
"Hurry!" He whispered.
I was sitting on the edge of the bed, sliding the sheer stockings along my leg, and reveling in the feel of the fabric against my skin. A delicate lace black garterbelt was to hold them in place. I slid my feet into my new three-inch black sandal-toed shoes and stood to appraise the image in the mirror. I had to laugh to myself at the daringness of my decision to wear only the garterbelt and stockings beneath my dress. I wanted to whisper it in his ear and watch for his response. The dress was simplistic, black, subtly sexy, and hung just to the top of my ankles with a hemline that provided a slight provocative swish when I walked. Make up and hair inspected, an extra twirl in the mirror for final self-evaluation and I was ready!
He turned and took me into him with his eyes. A smile crept across his face as he walked towards me with two wine glasses in hand. Gently he bent to kiss my lips and smiled again. No words were needed. We understood each other. He reached his glass out to mine and the clink sound of salute was exchanged.
He loves seafood! So, the criterion for my choice of restaurant was ambiance, romance, a good wine list, good food, and easy proximity to our condo. One such restaurant fit all required elements. The host seated us in a very quiet corner overlooking the gardens to our left and a view of the bay to the back.
Chris surveyed the wine list; I devoured him with my eyes. He felt my stare and cast his eyes upward and smiled seductively.
"Pull your chair a little closer to the table," I said in a hushed tone for his ears only. He did so without hesitating and then proceeded to discuss the merits of the wine list.
"You choose please." I said while slipping off my shoes under the table.
"How do you feel about Chardonnays?" he began just as my foot made contact with his trousers right at the base of his cock. My toes gently caressed up on down the length of the shaft. "I pick this!" I say with a coy laugh. He squirms ever so slightly as his cock springs to life beneath my foot and under his napkin.
The waiter was standing there during the exchange; but as either a true professional or one unconscious of the drama being enacted beneath the tablecloth, I know not. But he remained straight faced and ready to serve us. As he left to get his selection, Chris chuckled good-naturedly and crooked his finger indicating for me to lean towards him. "You are sooo bad!" With that said his hand sought my leg and foot with tender strokes and alternating light brushes of his fingertips.
"You like stockings?" I ask.