Conversation, along with drinks and laughter, flowed freely that evening. Unfortunately, so did the rain outside of Dante's Restaurant on the night that Olivia and I decided to have a business dinner. Olivia Dennis is actually my sister's co-worker's best friend. Sounds a little convoluted but we met at a holiday gathering three years ago and have been friends ever since. We bonded, I think, because our outlooks on life are so similar. There was so much more to the relationship that she and I shared than just girlfriends that hang out a couple times a month. There was an ever so subtle and never discussed attraction simmering underneath the surface between us. I had just recently made my attraction to her known but I was very clear that I wouldn't do anything to make any advances unless the feeling was mutual. My feelings towards her even caught me off guard, sneaking up on me after she had comforted me about a love gone awry. Nine out of ten times, when I had previously revealed my affections to another woman, my feelings sort of dissipated. I guess she was lucky contestant number ten because not only had my feelings not gone away after my revelation, they grew stronger with each subsequent communication. Olivia on the other hand was not comfortable with the idea of same gender intimacy but reluctantly admitted that she remained curious as to the type of thoughts that I harbored for her. I had always wondered, and hoped, if her curiosity arose out of desires she would not allow herself to admit.
One would have thought it was monsoon season in Sri Lanka the way the rain was coming down outside. With business discussions finalized, we sat and shared what was typical of our dynamic, intimate conversation that spanned many topics: relationships with men, dreams, fears, politics, race, religion . . . whatever topic came up, we seemed to ease into it with much passion and intellect. The elements had us trapped inside the restaurant much to the delight of the male customers and employees. There we were, two beautiful, sophisticated, extraordinarily sexy women chatting, laughing, and engaged in a sensual exchange even if it was tenuous and discrete. Me, being the more brazen of the pair, loved the attention men gave us and played up the dynamic. I would lean close to her and whisper in her ear for effect, or place my hand gently on the small of her back to create the effect of an intimate coupling. It was a complete rush for me to see the envious stares of male onlookers wondering if we were lovers. Olivia, not unaware of the effect that we were having on the surrounding men, allowed me to get away with my innocent flirtations. Perhaps it was the wine, the rain, the lustful stares but I suspect that Olivia actually was beginning to enjoy the tender caresses to her shoulder, her thigh, and I surely felt electricity between the two of us whenever I entered her personal space.
The rain showed no signs of letting up and the proprietors of the restaurant showed no mercy for their lingering customers. It was past time to close, they wanted to go home, and they were kicking us all out. Knowing full well that Olivia was not interested in an intimate relationship with me, I stepped up to the plate. "Listen Olivia, I only live upstairs. I don't want you driving in this weather. I would feel much more comfortable if you came to my place and waited until the rain lets up. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable so just know that I won't do anything at all to you . . . unless you want me to." I couldn't help but add that last phrase because honestly I craved intimacy with this woman so deeply and I knew there was chemistry between us. How could there not be? We had so much in common it was frightening. I was not in the habit however of trying to molest, attack, or convert anyone from their sexual preferences. My own insecurities are such that I need there to be a mutual attraction that is open and honest before I can even contemplate making an advance on a woman. Additionally, no amount of wine in the world could cause me to say or do something that would destroy the friendship I shared with Olivia. I have lots of other casual girlfriends but the communication I share with Olivia is far too valuable to me to blow on overactive hormones.
Apparently, Olivia felt the sincerity of my invitation and accepted. Even with an umbrella, we both got soaked in the thirty yards or so it took to get to the front door. "Would you like to put some dry clothes on, I can put your clothes in the dryer?" I wished I didn't have to make such an offer but I was only being polite because we really were soaking wet. It was almost painful for me when she was in my bathroom changing. I had fantasized many nights about her being here, but the circumstances were much different. In my fantasies, she had confessed to me that she wanted to explore the feelings she had for me, sexual and intimate feelings. The reality of the situation was that she was only in my apartment, half naked, because it was practically a hurricane outside. When she emerged from the bathroom she was nothing less than breathtaking. She had pulled her hair back in a ponytail and she was wearing my Victoria's Secret robe. (I made a mental note to buy a baby doll nightie then and there lest she ever be in a situation where she had to spend the night and needed something to sleep in. Hey, I wouldn't touch her but why not feed my fantasies in the interim?) I changed into a wrap sarong and white button down, comfortable and it covered everything so I didn't look like I was trying to seduce her. I was just about to make some hot water for some tea when, as fate would have it, the electricity went out.
I scrambled to light a few candles and we settled down on the sofa, wet clothes now hanging in the bathroom. The rain falling against the window and the occasional clap of thunder was our only soundtrack. One of the things I loved so about Olivia was her unwavering confidence. It was only a little bit more than obvious that she had been hurt by life a few times too many and that had caused her to put up this wall around her emotions, but it fit her well. Part of her charm and part of my attraction to her was because of the fact that she was determined, focused and methodical. It made her that much more sexy to me that she could navigate the world with the cool reserve of a man and be so incredibly beautiful at the same time. Truth of the matter is, I don't think she has a clue as to how beautiful she really is. She's just one of those women that used her brain to establish herself, not her looks. How sexy is that? She didn't however display the same level of confidence when it came to discussing my attraction to her. In fact, it seemed to make her so nervous that it was atypical of her behavior. I had always wanted her to ask me questions about my sexuality so we could get things out in the open but she never took the initiative and I never pushed up. So there we were, bathed in candlelight, trapped by the elements, with nothing to do but talk.
I tried not to stare at the brown skin of her legs that were exposed to me for the very first time. Every time I had seen her previously, she was wearing pants. In my mind I was visualizing her under the robe, as I had done many times in the past, wearing just a bra and panties. In my mind, they were always comfortable Lady Hanes and an unassuming bra to house her delightfully small breasts. I always suspected that she preferred to go natural and my eyes surely must have wandered to see if I could see even the most telltale hint of hair peeking out from between her legs. I tried really hard not to be obvious in my gaze, of primary importance to me was in making her feel comfortable. My discomfort had to be a little bit more than obvious but as long as she pretended not to notice, I was going to go along with the game plan. It couldn't have been more than ten minutes that we were sitting there before we had both relaxed and were facing each other on my couch. Olivia had this unique ability to distract me from thoughts of intimacy with her sincere demeanor. Whenever, it seemed, that she and I engaged in conversation, it was the topic at hand that was always the primary focus.
Catching me totally off guard she asked, "Do you have any wine, I would love a glass?" I stumbled in the dark refrigerator for the bottle of Pinot Grigio that I have recently gotten and poured two glasses without much incident. I sipped my glass tentatively, knowing full well that I was already slightly tipsy and I didn't want to lose control. My guest, on the other hand, drank her glass without much ado and didn't refuse when I offered her another. I thought maybe it was my imagination, but I could have sworn that she moved just a little closer and that she was making every attempt to have her hand linger on my thigh when making a point in her conversation. For the very first time in our relationship I felt her let down her guard. She was more animated and sensual than I had ever seen her before. For the first time in our exchanges, she talked openly about her sexual desires. I thought perhaps that she was using the wine as an excuse to open up. I didn't want to misread her actions.
