It's 9:02 and I've just seen the last customer out. My stomach is doing flips as I lock the door. I walk back to my office to get ready for my engagement. Out of my bag I pull a pair of black stockings and garter belt. I step out of my wool slacks and peel off my cable knit sweater. I fold both articles neatly and put them in my bag. I change from my practical cotton bikinis into a black lace thong and matching bra. I can feel the muscles between my legs contracting and my body making fluids. The mere thought of what he's capable of doing is enough to elicit spontaneous orgasm. My body is trembling so strongly it's hard to get my foot into my stockings. Once they're on, I step into a pair of black stilettos and wrap myself in my full length trench. My phone starts to beep and I know it's him.
"Hello," my voice is low and husky.
"Are you on your way?" He sounds eager.
"Not yet."
"Good. There's something I want you to do for me."
"Anything." I whisper.
"I want you to open the package I gave you last night. I want you to take what's in it and put it inside you...," he pauses. I wait for him to continue and notice my panties are feeling moist. "...deep inside you," he whispers. "I want you to turn it on and keep it there until you get to me." I gulp, knowing what he's going to say next.
"I want you to save your orgasm for me. The pleasure will take control, but you can do it." He hangs up.
Gaahhh!
I have a love/hate relationship with this game of his. I'm already on the verge of climaxing. I wish he were here right now to fill me, to give me something of his to grip.
Once everything is in place, I step outside and lock the door. A cab is already waiting. I get in and give the driver the address, though I know he already knows where to take me. Now comes the hard part. I need distraction. I put in my earbuds and close my eyes. The buzzing inside me seems to move in tandem with the beat of the music but I do not dare succumb to its intensity for I know the only time I'm ever free is when I'm allowed to fall far and fast into the deep, dark depths of pure rapture with him.
***
The room is black when I open my eyes. Forgetting where I am, I raise my head to find I was using a human chest as a pillow. Shit, I curse myself. I fell asleep unwittingly. I don't like to have sleepovers; it hurts my self-control. I sit up and, not knowing which direction we're positioned, gaze through darkness for the little green digital numbers. 4:14. Jesus, I must have really needed rest. I rise from the bed and stumble my way across the carpet, bumping into the door frame on my way into the bathroom.
"Babe," I hear mumbled from the bed. I freeze. I know he's not fully awake. And I don't want him to be. To hear, to see, to smell him is to wave a syringe in front of a junkie's face, but to touch and taste him is to plunge the needle deep into a vein. I wait for an exaggerated breath that tells me he's in a deep slumber before going into the bathroom, locking the door and switching on the light.