I take a deep breath as I look at myself one final time in the bathroom mirror.
I've been planning this for weeks, but will I really be able to do it? I ask myself.
I look myself up and down, twist around and check out the view from the back.
I am wearing a black lace push up bra and a black satin thong, sheathed in a black lace teddy with spaghetti straps.
Hair -- check. Make-up -- check. Nails -- check.
No heels. Not very conducive to climbing on furniture I think with a smile.
I smooth my hands down the lace material, enjoying how it feels against my skin.
Satisfied that I had managed to put together the look I wanted to achieve, I put on the final touch - my harlequin butterfly mask -- my illusion of anonymity -- the portal to my fantasy self.
Opening the bathroom door to re-enter the hotel room he had arranged for us, I wonder if he had followed through with all of my requests.
I step out and slowly glance around the room.
The curtains are drawn. The only light in the room is coming from a table lamp placed next to the stereo.
The arm chair and floor lamp have been moved to the far corner of the room.
He is sitting in the chair. I can feel him looking at me. He isn't saying anything. I told him not to.
A bottle of wine is sitting in a bucket of ice with two glasses on the bedside table closest to his chair.
And a few select toys are laid out on the bed.
He has indeed done everything I asked. Now it is my turn.
Amazing how I can think nothing of getting up onto a half empty dance floor, dance my ass off and twirl around with my arms outstretched in a crowded bar, sometimes without even having had one drink, and yet the thought of dancing only for him makes me feel like I have never danced a day in my life.
I feel nervous, timid, self-conscious, unsure.
And yet, I also feel excited, aroused, inflamed.
I am all those things and more.
I ask him to turn on the floor lamp and aim it in my direction.
I press play on the stereo, find my track, turn off the lamp and walk to the centre of the room.
My song of choice? Nickleback -- Something in your Mouth.
The beat is hard and fast but I am conservative at first, feeling the music, finding my groove. I balance on the balls of my feet and bend my knees slightly so I can swivel my legs. My calves, thighs and hips all move together swaying from side to side. I start moving my arms and my entire body syncs with the music.
I know he is there. I can't see him. But I can feel him watching me. I mouth the words to the song as I swing my arms and gyrate my body. I circle my hips from side to side and point in his direction as they belt out the line, "the honey wanted YOU all along."
The chorus is high energy and it turns up the intensity for me a few notches. I start to move faster. The nervousness is beginning to fade. My arms, legs, and hips are all coordinated, swinging and circling around and around. I balance and swivel on the balls of my feet.
I decide that it is time for me to get closer to him. I put my hand in front of my eyes and look in his direction. That is his cue to reposition the light.
I can't see him clearly. My eyes need time to adjust to the new lighting. I saunter over to him, one foot in front of the other, swaying my hips and shoulders as I go. I am dancing as I walk, making my way over to his chair.
I can see him now. He is sitting so still. The look on his face - I haven't seen it before. He exudes a steely calm. His eyes are deep and dark. He won't take them off of me. I want to keep dancing in front of him. I want to be bold and look into his eyes as I perform. But, the look on his face, those eyes, devouring me, he speaks volumes without uttering a word.
The balance of power has shifted. The energy he is emitting is powerful and compels me to submit.
