I am awake after only an hour of sleep unable to contain my excitement a second longer. Bolting from the bed to check my messages, I am sure there will be one from you. I can't wait to hear the thick, husky baritone I've grown to adore. My hands are shaking as I press the phone to my ear. You never disappoint.
"You have one message," the automated alert informs me.
"Just boarding the plane now, Angel," your voice announces above the whir of the jet engines, "We should touch down at JFK right on time."
A smile seizes my face as the veiled excitement in your voice edges me on.
"I can't wait to see you, but you haven't told me where the cabbie should take me," you remind me, "Not changing your mind now, I hope."
Is that trepidation I hear? Uncertainty? Surely not insecurity from the most confident man I know.
"An army couldn't keep me from you," I text along with the name and address of the hotel I have selected to celebrate our union.
"When you arrive go to the concierge desk. There is an envelope there for you with the pass key to our room and your directions," I add biting my lip.
I wait patiently for the call from the concierge announcing your arrival.
I place the black satin blindfold on the bathroom counter, next to the Polo Black body wash and aftershave. I hang the hotel robe on the back of the door and stack two plush, white towels on the counter. Then I return my shampoo and body butter to my bag and stow it under the bed. Grabbing the handful of crimson lace that includes a bra, matching thong, garter belt and nude silk stockings, before nudging the bag further out of sight.
Checking the time I quickly drop my robe and glide the wisp of shimmering lace up my legs and over my hips, adjusting the thin strap between my cheeks. Wiggling my hips, I find the perfect placement of the thong. I slip my arms into the bra, guiding the luxurious fabric up my arms. I lean forward filling the generous cups to the brim and secure the front closure nestled between my two mounds. I stand upright and adjust the positions of my globes within the decadent material, noting how sensitive my nipples have become. An image of your head bowed in reverence as you suck the tight bulbs, takes my breath away.
"Pull it together, woman," I self-chastise as I shake my head to clear my focus.
Back on task, I slide the garter belt up over my hips, sitting on the end of the bed with the garters dangling. I can't help but notice that all of this movement is causing the thong to caress my clit and kitty in delightful ways. Even my tight rosebud is receiving the attentions of this new addition to my wardrobe. My body provides its seal of approval, as the rubbing elicits a deep contraction accompanied by a flow of juices escaping the garden gates.
"You have to get a grip," I admonish myself, "If you keep this up he will find you spread eagle, without a stitch on, in the middle of that big bed, flicking your bean instead of discovering you the way you have planned."
Shaking my head once again, I slip my foot into the first stocking. A sigh escapes my lips, as the delicious silky material melts into the contours of my calf and thigh. I snap the first garter in place as a shiver runs up my spine. Quickly, I secure the other garter and notice the lacey band of the stocking is kissing my inner thigh dangerously close to my quivering lips. I am surprised by the loud groan my throat brings forth.
"How in the world am I going to have even a semblance of composure when he arrives if I can't even perform the simple task of dressing myself?" I ponder.
"Will power! Will power! Will power!" I begin chanting as I bring the rumblings under control.
I continue my mantra as I repeat the motions with the second stocking. My legs tremble as the other thigh is encased in smooth, sexy, softness. With the concerted efforts of every muscle and nerve ending in my body, I slip my feet into the three inch red heels.
"Lady you can't even put those shoes on how for Pete's sake are you ever going to gracefully walk in them?" I challenge.
I bring the thong back to its upright position and my fingers linger over my pleading nub a millisecond too long. Before I can stop myself, I am rubbing the hard pearl in tantalizing, small circles. I lift my head and notice the full length mirror on the wall facing the bed. Looking closely, I see the quivering lips of the wicked woman staring back at me.
"What a slut," I proudly surmise, "she doesn't even have the courtesy to remove her hand from her panties while I'm staring at her!"
I giggle and continue the evaluation of my current physical condition. Approvingly I note my hair has air dried into a sexy, explosion of soft full waves framing deeply flushed cheeks and smoky, wild eyes. I gaze appreciatively at the Pilates sculpted curves clad in sinfully, silken lace indulgences. Finally I feel confident in my appearance and the butterflies settle a touch. In sincere appreciation, I offer up a heartfelt thank you to the powers that be for my natural blessings and the gift of this beautiful man to worship them.
Satisfied with my appearance, I turn my attentions to the four other senses. I dip my finger in the raspberry flavored edible body butter and bring the finger to my mouth for a taste.
"Yummmm, perfection," I proclaim and return to the task at hand.
Paying close attention to areas that may need extra care, I smooth the luscious moisturizer from head to toe rubbing in the gratifying elements while leaving the sweet, delectable taste of wild raspberries for you. The cool mist and hypnotic scent of my signature cotton candy fragrance envelopes me, as I apply just a dab to the hollow of my throat, the pulse points of my wrists, the back of my knees, and each ankle. A long line is left to define my cleavage, while extra dabs are placed on my inner thighs to draw him in.
I conduct a quick mental inventory of the five senses and position my iPod in the speaker dock, cueing the seductive playlist I have been creating since the day we met. I glance around the room and give myself a thorough once over. I sit in the corner chair to verify its correct positioning and my thoughts wander over the countless fantasies I've had of this day. Sighing contentedly I am very pleased with my preparations and hope he will be as well. All at once my day dreams are interrupted by the shrill rings of the phone plummeting me back to reality.
I answer, noticing a distinct tremor in my voice.
"Hellllloooo," I draw out, the word seeming to take on a life of its own.
"He has arrived," the concierge announces and bids me a "good day."
I thank him and quickly hang up. I glance around the room and smooth out the bed. Grabbing my discarded robe from the floor, I toss it into the closet and dive in behind it. Only the whiff of cotton candy and wild raspberries provides evidence of my presence.
The door handle rattles and clicks as the door is opened. A bit more rattling as I assume the Do Not Disturb sign is hung. Then three clicks as the door is closed and locks are engaged. My heart is pounding out of my chest. I am sure that if you listened closely you could hear it. I hold my breath as I hear you moving around.