Well I've sent him my number. Now what? He probably won't call anyway, so why am I sitting here by the phone waiting?
It started this morning when I stumbled on that site. I don't know what had drawn me to the singles site, only that now I'm so glad I'd found it. Doing a search of my local area for possible matches found only one match. 'Great,' I'd thought to myself sarcastically as I clicked on it. When the page opened and there staring back at me, was the most incredibly handsome man I'd ever seen, with his dark wavy brown hair and a romance behind those mesmerizing brown eyes, it almost seemed like fate.
When I sent that first message I hadn't known what to write, but I knew I had to meet this man! My description to him had been brief, but obviously enough to entice this handsome stranger to respond. His reply had been almost as blunt as it was enthralling. 'Send me your number and we can talk,' he'd written. To the point, but what the hell. 'You only live once,' I'd thought as I sent him my number and hoped to hear back from him. When his message came saying he'd call me tonight, I felt my heart skip a beat.
So here I sit. Maybe I'm just fooling myself. After all, it was me who had initially contacted him, right? Not the other way round, so why should he call? He's so incredibly good looking. I have the memory of his photo permanently embedded in my mind. Closing my eyes, I can clearly see the mischievous sparkle in his smiling eyes. The slight dimple in his right cheek, and his neatly trimmed goatee, contrasting the whiteness of his teeth as he seems to almost grin straight at me. The few wisps of gray in his beard giving him character, only adding to his appeal. The top two buttons of his shirt undone, revealing a few wisps of the dark, wiry hair hidden beneath, allowing my imagination to conjure up thoughts of my fingers tracing slowly through them.
The shrill of the phone ringing awakens me from my daze. 'Oh God, please let it be him,' I silently pray as I reach for the receiver.
His voice soft, yet oh so extremely sexy, sets my heart beating in erratic waves feeling like it's going to burst from my chest. Introducing himself, I finally learn of his name. Mike. Even his name seems to strike a chord deep within, as I imagine myself calling it out repeatedly, the fantasies flooding my mind as we speak. There's almost a pure innocence in his manner, a characteristic I find uncontrollably arousing. He's 44, divorced, no kids, I want to know everything about this man. The conversation flowing smoothly, calming my nerves as we talk freely, almost feeling as though we've known each other for years. There's definitely a connection between us, we seem to share so many similar interests. Realizing we've been chatting for almost an hour, I ask him if he'd like to meet over a few drinks. We decide on him meeting me here; my house being on the way to town, seeming like the logical place to meet.
After a promising good-bye I hang up the phone and look around. This place doesn't look too bad. Tidying the few misplaced magazines on the coffee table, I eye the clock. I have an hour before Mike arrives. Saying his name feels so natural. My mind is racing at the thought of having this gorgeous man here, just he and I, alone. I still have to shower and choose something to wear. God, what am I going to wear? Do I dress casual? sexy? We haven't even decided on where we're going yet, which is going to make choosing an outfit even harder. Almost in a trance as I picture his face in my mind. I make my way to the bedroom and gaze blankly at my wardrobe. I guess it's the possibility of him being in my bedroom that sends the shiver coursing through me at this moment, or maybe, the thought of having a man here, period. It's been a year since shithead left. Shithead, being my ex (soon to be ex-husband). This being the first time I've even been remotely interested in meeting somebody, be it for romance or the like.
Rummaging through my lingerie drawer I finally decide on a pastel pink bra and matching panty. God, it's so hard. Not knowing whether to dress for 'sex'. I think the set I've chosen is safe, even if we do have 'sex', it won't appear as though I've dressed deliberately for the occasion. The bra being slightly fitted, being a balconette style, it cups my breasts, giving them an extra 'lift'. The panties are simple, yet the embroidered rosettes give them a definite feminine appeal without proving too sexy. I'm actually more nervous than I care to admit. Setting them out neatly on the bed, I grab a towel and head for the bathroom.
The shower so warm and invigorating as I lean my head back, feeling the jets of water washing over my face. My wet hair clings to my back as the water gushes over me. Sliding my hands behind my neck, I relinquish myself to the pounding rhythm of the water vibrating against my body. Exhaling slowly, I feel my body yield to the intoxicating vigor of the unforgiving force strumming continuously onto me. Relaxing, my tensions seem to just wash away.
As I close my eyes, I slide the soap over my supple bosom, gently massaging as the lather runs down my body to my mound, and then beyond. Cupping my breast, savoring the feel and the luxuriating silkiness of the soap, my nipple hardens at the touch of me rolling it between my fingers. Gently pulling, tugging at my nipple as my other hand slides the soap over the tenderness that is slowly beginning to stir between my thighs. Parting my legs slightly, I feel my hand expertly guide the bar over my folds. The familiar stirrings awakening my sexual being, as I slide a finger slowly between the lips, feeling the silky wetness of my own arousal. A soft moan escapes my mouth as my finger slides over my dampness, my thoughts of Mike's gorgeous face as I move my finger to my moist opening.
Leaning back against the tiles I lower myself, parting my legs, slightly bent at the knees as I seat myself on the floor of the shower recess. Moving my hand over my lips, I feel how velvety my juices feel against the warmth of the water that is washing over my exposed labia. I open my legs wider, my pussy responding to my sensuous touch. Sliding my fingers from bottom to top of my pussy, then back down again, I tease my opening with each and every movement.
Releasing the hold on my breast, I slide my hand down my navel, as I let the soap slip from my fingers. With both hands outstretched, I skim the length of my lips, parting the folds as the warmth of the water washes over me. Dropping my chin forward as I move a finger through the silky wetness of my pussy, my breathing becoming increasingly labored.
Rolling my head back, resting it against the tiles, I slide a finger deep inside myself, curling it against my inner walls as a soft moan escapes my lips. My other hand concentrates on my hardened clit, moving in slow, deliberate circles. My finger continues to plunge deep, feeding my pending orgasm with a hunger as my pussy encloses tighter around it. I delve a second finger deep inside, feeling my inner walls gripping around them. With slow, languid thrusts, I drive my fingers deeper as I moan out loud in ecstasy. My other hand, pressing harder against my swollen clit, driving me closer to release with each and every unrelenting, deliciously placed motion. My legs stiffen as the pulsating spasms of my oncoming orgasm begin to engulf my probing fingers. Shamelessly, my body shivers as I cum around my hand. I close my eyes again, allowing the sensations to course through me, a giddiness washing over me as I ride out the final waves of the eroticized pleasures surging through my body.
* * *
Totally satiated as I grab the towel and begin to dry myself, I catch sight of my reflection in the vanity mirror. I gaze my eyes over my own slender 5'6 frame, still taut and toned, thanks to the many years of dance classes. My long blonde hair hangs limp as I wrap the towel around the ends wringing out the excess water. My large brown eyes and long dark eyelashes definitely my best features, but I am also thankful for inheriting my father's magnetic smile. Suddenly I'm feeling nervous. Standing here looking at my own nakedness, I begin to wonder if Mike would like what I'm seeing, if tonight happens to lead us in that direction. Wrapping the towel around my back, tucking the folds inside itself, I make my way to the bedroom.
As I pull on my panties, images of Mike taking them off run through my mind. Catching my reflection, I smile, contently satisfied in my choice of underwear as I adjust the lace of my bra. Taking the perfume, I spray it sparingly around my neckline, inhaling, savoring the fragrance. Estee Lauder's 'Knowing', it has always been my favorite perfume. Right now as I close my eyes, I can imagine the sensuous feel of Mike's mouth moving over my shoulder to my neck, him breathing in the intoxicating scent.
Maybe we'll just end up down at the pub, but then, it is Friday night, so chances are that we'll end up at a club somewhere. Holding up endless pieces of clothing, scrutinizing each in turn as I hold them against me before replacing them from where they came. I want to dress just right. Finally, I decide on my slinky black pants, gold chain hipster belt, and a low cut crimson top. Sliding on my low-heeled scuffs, I take a final look at my reflection. Not too sexy, not too casual. I smile at my image portrayed in the full length mirror.
