The Monday After

I run upstairs, throwing my purse on the hallway floor. As I run into my office, my jacket is already off as I hit the power button on my PC. Damn, this computer takes forever to boot up. I pull off my suit jacket and kick my heels off, as I am still just taunted by the stupid machine trying to start windows. The caller ID on the phone next to the computer is showing'0 missed calls'. I have my stuffy white blouse off and am unzipping the side zipper on my skirt as the login window comes up. Quickly, I type in my password and hit return as my skirt falls to the floor. Damn thing is taking forever, or maybe it has been only a minute. I sit down and pull off my nylons, quickly clicking the login button for my ISP. Another quick password and I am waiting for my modem to connect. This always takes forever.

I take a deep breath and try to collect my thoughts. Work today was unbearable. Every moment, I was thinking of you. I did not get anything done all day' cancelled meetings, put off reports, postponed conference calls. Every last moment was spent waiting for that instant I got home and could talk to you' or at least talk to you online.

By the time I have my Internet connection up, I have pulled an old sweatshirt over my bra and panties. Sitting down in my chair and crossing my bare legs under me, I check my email. Scanning it quickly, I notice there is nothing from you, nothing about this weekend. I start AIM; you're still not on. I sit there, staring at the flickering screen disappointed. I know you said your Monday meeting might go late, but I was hoping you'd be home by now. Staring at the buddy list doesn't make your screen name appear no matter how much I wish it would.

I get up, and walk to the bedroom to find some jeans. I have the volume turned up on the computer so I'll hear if you log in. As I sit on the bed pulling up my jeans, I stop and throw them back in the drawer. I get back up, walking over to he hamper to pull out the jeans I had on this weekend. These are the jeans you had your hands on, the ones your lips ran along as you kissed my legs, your body pressed up against them, holding me close. I pull them on, slowly, enjoying the feel of the soft denim against my legs. Oh my god, how good your hands felt as you held me close to you. Your fingers gripping the soft flesh of my thighs through the denim as we stumbled into the hotel room you had arranged.

I still can't believe that you managed to meet me in Chicago when I was forced to be there for that stupid regulations meeting. It is so hard for me to believe I lied to my two subordinate auditors to be able to get back to the hotel restaurant to meet you there. The fear that ran through my body at the thought of being caught every moment we were at dinner kept my flushed even after the last bite of dessert. With every cut of my knife, I would look around and wonder if someone would catch us. It was such a relief when dinner was finished and we ran off to your hotel room. I don't know how no one managed to catch us when you had me pressed up against the hotel room door, kissing my lips, then neck, then the top of my chest as you fumbled with the card key. The thought of when the door closed and I finally felt safe, and then felt even safer in your arms and embrace, still makes me tremble.

I shiver now as I zip up the jeans. Turning a bit as I look at myself in the mirror, I can't help smiling. You seemed to really like what you saw or felt at least since the room lights never even got turned on. I walk downstairs again to check the mail, which I had grabbed on my way in. Nothing exciting ever comes in the mail, Capitol One offering me a credit card, an ad for the paper, another offer to buy mortgage insurance. I sigh as I walk into the kitchen and grab a bottle of water from the fridge. Why the hell aren't you home yet. Its almost Eight your time. You are always home before me. I can't wait to tell you how you made me feel this weekend. I wish to god I was going to be spending tonight with you. The weekend had been too short. I don't know how I ended up needing you this much.

Wrapping my arms around myself, I let my mind wander. Your hands were so warm when you pulled my shirt off. Hugging myself tighter, I remember how your lips felt as you kissed my chest and breasts. Damn it! My nipples are hard just at the thought of how you took them in your mouth, first sucking on the one and then the other. I don't think we said more than ten words before morning' unless something more coherent than moaning came out of my mouth that night. Standing alone in the kitchen, I smile as I think of how you pressed me down on the bed. Our clothes gone as finally our bodies were allowed to touch. Months of the thought of you, never more than text on my screen and an occasional call. Opening my eyes, I stare out the window. One weekend with you isn't enough. One weekend of your touch isn't enough. I don't know if you feel the same. Was making love to me as wonderful for you' Did you love sending me over the edge' Was it as incredible for you when I screamed your name, gripping your shoulders and coming so hard as your erupted in me that I almost fainted'

Suddenly, I hear the noise. I run up the stairs in a dash for the computer, not even bothering to sit down as I see your name now in my buddy list. I pause for a moment, only a brief moment, before clicking on your name.