There was a call from the hotel desk that gave me the warning that you had indeed arrived. It was the only thing I had asked them to do. I had already taken care of everything else. I hung up the phone and stared at my reflection.
My eyes were wide and full of excitement as well as apprehension. What if I was not what you were expecting? What if you were disappointed and simply turned around and walked out? How would I feel if my worst fears came true? I swallowed the fear in my throat, watched by lips become moistened by the quick touch of my tongue and turned toward the balcony of my room.
That's how you found me.
I heard the knowing click of the door's lock being released by the key card. The sound of the door being opened and the seal of its frame, sucking free of the steel, made me shiver. I took a deep breath and waited.
The air in the room was warm; the air outside was cool. It was a contrast of temperatures, just as I was a contrast of emotions. I had left the door to the balcony open and knew with each second that passed you were staring at my figure.
I had allowed my hair to remain loose; the waves were lifted and tossed against my shoulders and danced softly in the gentle evening breeze. I stared out into the night, watching the city lights flicker as various objects interrupted their brilliance.
The sound of traffic was comforting because it calmed the beat of my heart. The urge to turn around and face you was intense. My fingers gripped the metal railing that I leaned upon and still you did not come to me.
Were you too entranced by the revealing dress that dipped low and showed flesh? The glimmering cream fabric caught beams of light and when the wind flowed across the material it shimmered softly. It pooled at the small of my back, where if one were to stand directly over me, they could see the lace and silk that was tucked between the round cheeks of my butt.
The dress hung over my hips, to fall and glide over my thighs, down past my knees and rested just a breath away from my stilettos' heels. They were silver, a blending color to the rest of my carefully picked ensemble. There was a slit up the back of the dress, that revealed my legs, stocking clad by a thin, sheer layer of ivory. A seam, somewhat darker than the fabric, skated up the back of each thigh, and the tops were secured by garters that bit into the lace-covered elastic.
I heard it then - - - the first knowing sound that you were staying.
The door shut and the lock slid home.
My eyes fluttered closed; my palms began to sweat and I blushed at my own physical reaction to what was to come. I rolled my fingers into fists and tried to force my hands to stop their trembling. I moved my palms over the railing and cooled the flesh while wiping what I could of the sweat away.
Your footsteps seemed to echo on the carpet, though I knew the sound was less than audible. It was again my heart; its pulse pounded in my head, poured through my veins, dug at my soul. Another sound told me you were removing your jacket, and placing it somewhere in the room. I took another breath and waited. Time seemed to move in slow motion, but yet, this is what I wanted – want I had desired since you first mentioned wanting me.
I felt you and yet we had not yet touched.
I knew without a doubt you stood behind me, just inches away and all I had to do was turn around. I remained still. The view before me – the city, the cars, the lights – all of these blurred as your fingers stroked my hair.
A soft whimper slipped past my lips.
The touch of your hand as it slid to my shoulders made my toes curl in trepidation. You pushed my red hair to one side, exposed my neck to your hungry gaze and made my body melt. A soft chuckle rumbled from your chest as I leaned back into you. You held me for a moment, one hand sliding around my waist, the other around my throat.
There was no sense of restriction to my person. I knew you were simply holding me; you were allowing me the comfort of your body and the strength in it was just as I had imagined. Your lips found my shoulder as your hand moved from my neck to the edge of the gown.
The moan from your throat, as you tasted my skin for the first time, caused my stomach to flip. I pressed a palm to my abdomen, only to come in contact with your hand.
You moved it away and covered my fingers with yours; our hands were together; your fingers linked with mine and your lips still continued to assault my senses. The air moved around us, stirring in us both a shiver. You turned me then and for the first time I was able to look into your eyes and breathe the same air that skated into your lungs.
Words were lost to me as I drank you in. Your eyes - your smile - your masculine presence that emanated from the very core of you – all of it is there – all of it is in the flesh.
I reached out and touched your face; my fingers traced the shape of your lips, the curve of your smile, the laugh lines that surrounded your mouth. I grinned; you chuckled. My finger glided down and felt the pulse under your skin, caressed your throat.
Your pulse beats almost as rapidly as mine. I smirked, grateful that you were just as nervous as I.
It was almost dreamlike, the way we moved into each other. I stepped closer, just as you did. Our arms moved in sync; you reached down and pulled me in. I reached up, came willingly.
Our kiss only took a second to begin and soon we were hungry for more. The passion to have, to breathe, to consume each other was almost too much.
We pulled apart, or at least you did. I leaned in, almost wishing that I were the stronger player in this game of seduction. You turned me back to the city and the lights. I gripped the railing and felt your lips slowly glide down my back.
Tiny kisses began to cover my exposed flesh. You manipulated the material of the gown, allowing more skin, and more places to blanket with your touch. My body responded to each strategically placed caress. I sighed, gasped, moaned. My feet could not stay still and several times I was forced to shift my weight from one side to the other.
My fingers opened and closed around the slim welded steel of the balcony's railing I held it tight within my grasp, leaned on it for support and it took care of me, just as you did.
Your mouth rested for a moment at the small of my back. My lips shook; my breath was heavy; my sex was slick and both breasts were weighed down with need. I could barely stand and yet, I did. We were far from over – you were far from over.
I felt your hands glide down the sides of my legs; the material caught every so often on your fingers, but neither of us were concerned with the fabric. Once again I was forced to wait, to feel and not see.
Your palms reached my ankles, and then began a slow tantalizing dance up the inside of the dress. I groaned and opened my legs just enough so that you were able to continue running your fingers up my legs.
The stockings were a weak barrier to your touch. The firmness of your hands massaging the flesh under the sheer nylon, made my legs quiver as you continued your exploration. Your nails skimmed the edge of the stockings as I felt one garter being released, then another. The other leg was soon free and all four straps lay weak against my thighs, dangling little fingers that danced when you brush at them with your own.
I felt the knowing touch of a pair of strong hands and nimble fingers tease my thong and roll the lace across the crack of my ass cheeks. A hiss of pleasure and a soft stomp of my feet made you chuckle. I grinned, looked back, and caught you staring up at me.
