It is a cold damp night. It is about 9:00 p.m. I feel like a detective in an old movie. I am wrapped tightly in my tan trench coat. I strain to see the dimly lit door. Tension builds as I rehearse the plan again and again. The windows of my rental car are covered with a light sprinkling of rain that refracts the light from the street lamps. Each lamp is surrounded by a rainbow halo.
I am sure that I have found your home. The mailbox is not marked but it feels so right. I can feel your presence even though you are away. You have let little hints drop. And now I am here waiting... I tried knocking on your door but no one was home. You told me you would be alone tonight. So, now I wait.
I hope you will come home alone. I took a terrible risk knocking on your door but I could not resist. I had prepared a fib about being lost but it had not been needed. My thoughts reach out looking for your aura. We have connected so many times on line but this is for real.
A car drives up. A person gets out and hastens towards the door. The car rumbles away. Could it be you? My mind has doubts but my heart feels your presence. Are you alone? Will you feel I violated your trust? It had not been easy converting the name and city into a complete address. My heart is high in my throat. Should I phone first? Should I be a Viking and storm the castle?
I hesitate. My cell phone is at hand. The person hesitates at the door, turning and then going in. I am sure you felt my hot look. I am certain it is you and that you are alone. I move with purpose across the damp street, moving around puddles. My heart is in my throat. I feel sixteen again. This is bigger than when I asked a girl out for the first time.
I knock three times. I fuss with my hair. It is damp from the night air. It dribbles water down my forehead and off the tip of my nose. The light glints off my cuff links. The Viking ships on them leading the way to paradise. I hear a faint shuffle of bare feet. An eye blocks the Judas. I am being eyed. I wait. My heart is in my throat. I raise a cuff link to where you can see so that you will know it is I, your Viking. I hear a gasp. The security chain rattles and the door opens a crack.
You ask, "Is it you?"
I nod and reply "Yes, I am your Viking."
The door slams shut. I panic. What have I done?
But then the chain rattles and you open the door from behind and invite me. With the door closed, you throw yourself into my embrace. Your soft body covered by a loose robe. I can feel your breasts pressed against my chest. I can tell that you are not wearing a bra. Your hair is wet. I am guessing you were combing it out. I bend my head down to kiss you. Our tongues tentatively touch. I can feel you relaxing. I know that I made the right choice.
My hands roam up and down your backside. I caress your shoulders. I squeeze your ass. I can tell that you are willing to be mine. My passions begin to flare. I am sure you can see the Viking passion in my eyes. We kiss again. I lift you gently and nestle you against my chest. I ask "Which way?"
You point towards an open door way. We enter your bedroom. I set you gently on the bed. I move your hair aside and gently kiss the back of your neck. My trench coat is off in an instant and hung over the bathroom door. You can see my silver cufflinks glinting now... two Viking ships.
I begin brushing your hair with long even strokes. Gently working out each tangle. I can feel the tension leave your body. I think back to what back on the promises made during our least session on line. I wonder if it can be as good for real as in the mind's eye. Your hair is getting shiny as it dries. The luster is wonderful. Your legs slide apart slightly as you relax parting the bottom of your robe exposing your thighs.
Feeling the bold, my mind wonders to where I promised to begin. I wonder how your breasts will taste as I suckle till you have an orgasm. I wonder if your nipples will get as hard as cherry pits... if your orgasm will be so fine that you will melt at my slightest touch.
