I'm a married woman. Never flirted with anyone other than my husband, never strayed, never even been tempted, until--that is--the three-day business conference in Chicago last year: then my resolve fell apart.
My associate Cheryl and I had just spent an exhaustingly long day in sessions at the latest book sellers' conference, and decided to go to the hotel's built-in bowling alley that included a bar. The lanes were empty and as we sat and sipped our drinks, as a lark, I asked her if she'd bowl a game with me. "Come on, it'd be fun."
We both laughed because we such lousy bowlers, but she agreed. As we were paying and getting our shoes her phone rang. She listened for a few seconds, said goodbye, and then begged off for later. She had to return to the room to straighten out some business with the hotel. Having already paid and gotten my shoes, I decided to go ahead on my own. No one to see me be a horrible bowler, so I picked a lane and had my choice of all of them.
I sat to put on my shoes. "Would you mind sharing this lane with a bad bowler?" asked a deep voice behind me. I turned and saw a tall, good looking man about my age with a pair of bowling shoes in his hand and a beer in the other. He shrugged, like he was embarrassed to ask, then he introduced himself as Paul and sat down after I nodded that I wouldn't mind.
We bowled a game, joked around, laughed a lot, and I genuinely enjoyed his company, so we started on a second game. "Nice ring," he said, looking down at my diamond wedding ring. Without thinking, I turned the diamonds to the palm-side of my finger, as if that would make the ring invisible. I'm not sure why I did that, since he'd already seen it, but I thanked him and explained, foolishly, that I'd been married for fifteen years. "Divorced," he said, holding up an empty ring finger.
For no particular reason, I explained about the conference, my friend Cheryl, and how we were just kicking back after a long day of boring. He smiled, asked if he could buy me a drink, and I accepted. The conversation was easy and we both laughed often and got pretty comfortable. After the second game, we moved to the lounge and I bought a drink for us both.
We'd been there talking, getting to know one another for nearly an hour, chatting casually, but I wasn't just visiting with a stranger I was flirting, openly. I couldn't deny it, I was leading on a stranger. He put his hand over mind a few times, and I enjoyed the contact, touching him whenever possible as well. Finally, he excused himself and said he had to return to his room. "I'll be coming back down at eight," he said. "If you're down here, maybe we could get something to eat?" I didn't say, Thank you I'll be busy, or I need to spend time with Cheryl, instead I said, "That would be nice. Perhaps."
I showered, spent way too much time on my hair, and got dressed, choosing the shortest skirt I brought and the sexiest underwear. I had no intention of going back down to meet Paul, but I hurriedly applied makeup and went, as if pulled by a magnetic field, out and down the hall to the elevator.
Paul was at the bar when I walked into the lounge and he stood up when I got to him. He took my hand, leaned in, and kissed me. Casually, but tenderly, like old friends do. I must have reddened, because he pulled away quickly and apologized. I told him I liked it and no apology was needed. "I'm married," I said with a grin, "but I'm not lifeless. It was a nice kiss," I said. "Thank you." He smiled and we chatted more about boring conferences and current events and things in general. We had dinner together and visited some more, then he said, "I have some nice wine up in my room. You couldn't possibly be talked into coming up to have a glass in my suite?"
Without hesitating I surprised myself by saying, "I'd love to."
Once inside he shut the door, locked it, and turned to me. I stepped up close and he took me by the shoulders and kissed me for a second time that night. This time I let it linger, opened my mouth slightly, and felt his tongue reaching for mine. Our tongues played together for a short time, then I kicked off my shoes and pressed myself against him.
"Could we save the wine 'till later?" I said, letting him know I was willing.
