To: You
From: Me
Subject: Don't Freak Out
Don't freak out but I am in LA on business for the next two days. I wanted you to know since I had told you I'd be alone and available. I don't expect anything but if you felt comfortable, I'd love to meet. I PROMISE, I'll be on my best behavior.
20 minutes crawl by...
To: Me
From: You
Subject: FREAKED OUT
I can't be upset since technically, you told me the truth. Honestly, I don't know about meeting. I can't answer right now. Why ARE you here?
Waiting an appropriate amount of time to respond so as not to seem anxious. And certainly not wanting to push you....
To: You
From: Me
Subject: RE: FREAKED OUT
Conference for work. I didn't say anything because I didn't want you to think it was just because of you. I am not pressuring you to meet but I have no idea when I'll be out here again, if ever, so it seemed like a good opportunity. There's a great bar in my hotel, we could meet for one drink. That's it. Totally on your terms.
5 minutes creeps along like 50 minutes...
To: Me
From: You
Subject: RE: RE: FREAKED OUT
One drink. One hour. That's it. What hotel? I'll text when I am close.
I quickly shoot off an email with the name and location of my hotel. We decide to meet at 7 pm in the Culina of the Four Seasons. At 5 my conferences are done and I go to my room to freshen up.
I quickly shower and change into something casual but sexy...a simple short black skirt, purple wrap sweater, multi fence net stockings and my over-the-knee black boots. Underneath is a purple corset and matching boy short but that is how I would dress any day, not just to see you...or so I tell myself.
I leave my hair down so the soft sexy curls frame my face. I take extra care with what little make up I do wear so my eyes look smoky bringing out their deep rich chocolate color. I gloss my lips with my favorite pink...making them look wet. Although nothing will happen, doesn't mean I won't look my best.
I get to the bar extra early to make sure I can score the right seats and I am nervous. Desperately, needing a little liquid confidence.
I find two stools off to the side of the bar that is closest to the floor to ceiling windows boasting a spectacular skyline. We'll have some privacy and not be visible immediately from the entrance. One can never be too careful.
The bartender brings me a Cosmopolitan.
As I sip my favorite connection of cranberry, triple sec and Grey Goose, I realize how excited I am to finally meet you in person. I try to take my mind off how nervous I am by reading FB posts and catching up on the news.
I almost jump out my skin when my phone vibrates indicating a text.
'I'm just parking in the garage be there soon.'
My heart is racing. You're early. Hopefully, not because you are just dying to get this encounter over with as quickly as possible.
I respond back to take your time and that I am at the far end of the bar. I contemplated telling you what I was wearing but you had seen photos of me so I figured you could pick me out of the crowd.
At the moment, the bar is filling up with people from the conference. One guy I was in session with comes over and says hello. We start to chat about the day's events and I am close to finishing my Cosmo and suddenly I feel this pull.
It's a sexual pull, like when you know there's another freak in the room.
I look up and my eyes meet with yours. We smile nervously at each other.
I will conference-boy to go away but he's not taking the hint. I politely decline his offer to buy me another drink as I could already sense where that was going. By the time I tell him I am meeting some one, you are standing right beside me.
"Hey. Hope, I'm not interrupting anything." You smile.
"No, not at all." I totally turn my attention to you so conference-boy gets the hint. "Wow, it's nice to finally meet you."
I hesitate, touching you, to shake a hand or hug considering our earlier agreement. The moment is awkward until you lean in and hug me, kissing my cheek...very innocent.
I laugh to myself as you take the empty stool next to me.
"What?" Chuckling, you smile again.
"Nothing, I just didn't want to touch you so I didn't know the proper greeting for a hands off meeting."
I smile, so you know I am teasing.
"We can be cordial."
We both get quiet. "Can I buy you a drink?" I ask.
"Sure, is that a Cosmo?"
"Yes, do you want to taste it?"
I push the martini glass towards you. It's subtle but I notice you turn the glass to where my lip-gloss has left a print on the rim, to drink. I remind myself that doesn't mean anything but fuck if it doesn't turn me on.
"Mmm," I watch you lick your lips, "that's really good."
When the bartender comes by, I order another Cosmo and you a Margarita.
We sit and chat for a several minutes. I ask how your day was and you tell me about the city. We both get quiet again.
"Are you hungry?" I ask.
"No, not really, I had a late lunch."
Things feel awkward and I hate the idea that I am keeping you here and you really don't want to be so I reached over and place my hand over yours, on the bar.
I lean close and can hear you inhale. I know I smell good wearing Tuscany Per Donna, my favorite sexy fragrance.
"Listen, it's ok if you want to go. I'm just glad that we had a chance to meet. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable." I move my hand away.
You turn towards me and our gaze collides.
"Wow." Your voice is low and soft.
"What?"
"Your eyes. I didn't expect them to be so...expressively transparent."
I smile looking down. "Yeah, I get that a lot."
When I look back up, you can clearly see the lust in my eyes.
"I'm going to regret asking this but what are you thinking about?" Your voice is deeper, sexier.
I hesitate for several seconds contemplating how honest I should be until you whisper, "Tell me."
"You sure? You may not want to hear it."
Turning in my seat towards you, I lean my elbow on the bar; the movement causes my skirt to slide up my legs. And you notice.
I lean towards you a little and the view is very enticing from your angle.
My bedroom voice kicks in, "I'm thinking about objectification."
My spine instantly arches at the sound of that sexy little laugh of yours, "Objectification?" You question.
"Yes, objectification."
I see you swallow hard.
"It refers to the practice of regarding or treating another person merely as an instrument (object) towards one's sexual pleasure."
"Did you just Google that?" Your laughing smile lights up your eyes.
"No." I giggle. "I just want to be sure I am leading down the right road to Perdition." I smile at the inside jest.
"So, what is this thought about objectification?"
I lean closer to you so I can whisper in you ear but careful not to touch you.
"Suppose, I let you objectify me?"
"And how would you propose to do that?"
"I was thinking of walking you to your car in the parking garage." My voice gets quieter.
"And letting you jerk off all over me."