I have just finished two long days of wheeling and dealing in Wilmington, Delaware.
Before driving home to Philly, I decide to unwind, enjoy a little repast as I wait for the rush hour traffic on 95 to ease. So at 5:45 I enter the Green Room of the Hotel du Pont and am seated in the plush dinning room at a table for two quickly transpose to a table for one.
As I glance around the dining room, enjoying the elegant setting, I see a stunning woman sitting across and to the left of me. How strange that such a lovely woman is dining alone. She is wearing a lovely black dress that shows off her figure to great advantage (wonderful legs). Ah, but apparently she is waiting for a friend to arrive (her table is still set for two). It is also apparent her friend is running very late.....she seems a little anxious.
I can't take my eyes off of her. The way that dress clings to her breast, crossing and hugging her to show just the right amount of cleavage constantly draws my attention. At just that moment, she pulls a BlackBerry 8700 out of a small black purse and looks at the screen. I recognize the devise because I had just purchased one on Monday and I'm still learning to use it.
I watch with curiosity as she slumps back into her chair, clearly disappointed. She sighs heavily and stands to leave....As she turns around to pick up her jacket from the back of her chair, she notices me for the first time. To my great embarrassment, I realize that I've been caught staring at her. Our eyes lock...and I feel trapped.
I stand and I stammer something that I hope says, "If you're plans have changed, would you care to join me? I'm eating alone this evening."
Her first reaction is shock that I would be so forward but then she smiles and answers, "If you are sure I wouldn't be imposing. I was to meet a friend but he has had a fender bender and won't be able to join me."
"No, not at all." I beam. One thing I learned long ago in business, nothing ventured nothing gained. "I hate to eat alone. It would be delightful to have some company. Please." I pull out the chair she had just risen from and seat myself across from her then signal for the waiter.
"Thank you. My name is Angel. Angel Heart." She smiles. "My parents have a strange sense of humor." Her voice is soft, deep and sexy voice and starts a tingling sensation in my fingertips.
As the waiter approaches, I introduce myself, "And mine is Alex Peterson. Would you care for some wine? I've already ordered a glass of Bonterra Chardannay. Have you had a chance to look at the menu." The waiter arrives with my glass of wine as the words leave my lips.
She smiles and crosses her lovely legs, "I'm not fond of Chardannay," She turns to the waiter, "Beringer White Zinfendel." And then she turns to me, "It's my favorite."
"What a treat it is for me to celebrate a successful business trip by sharing a glass of my favorite wine with such a beautiful woman."
As we order and eat, our conversation continues along the normal course, or so I thought. "What business are you in?" She smiles, eyes looking directly into mine.
"I don't want to ruin your dinner." I laugh, "It's a technical field. We manufacture power supplies for high tech devices. And you?" I ask quickly before I bore her to death. "What sort of work do you do?"
"I'm a writer and website designer," she answers as she sips her wine.
"How much more interesting that sounds! What do you write, Angel?"
She runs her fingertip around the rim of her glass. "Well Alex, I write about people's fantasies."
"You must be joking!" I gasp as I almost choke on my wine. "What sort of fantasies?"
She lightly puts her soft hand over mine. "Sexual fantasies, Alex. We all have them and the internet has become an outlet for many people to explore their sensual side."
"But you seem so normal." I blurt out shocking myself. "Ah...Isn't that rather....kinky?" I retort not recovering very well. I'm suddenly wondering if I've picked up some kind of "pro".
"Do you have fantasies Alex?" she asks holding me with her gaze.
"Well, certainly I do, but I don't discuss them on the internet, much less in person." I'm sure up until now she had seen me as a somewhat sophisticated older man. Now I'm sure I'm coming off as an old prude. "You mean people share fantasies with you on the net?" I just couldn't help myself. Of course I've heard of what's happening on the internet but I've never bothered with it or even know of anyone who does.
"Yes, and I help them explore them. They don't have to reveal their identity and as a result they feel very uninhibited."
"I suppose that's true. But I'd feel very awkward." I respond as I try not to squirm in my seat. "It also sounds like it could be very dangerous." She looks to be in her late twenties, maybe early thirties. She has to know there were all kinds of crazies out there, especially on the internet.
"I never meet the people I deal with and for the most part they are usually quite normal. They simply would like help expressing themselves. Or they may just be having a problem communicating with their partner." She continues as she once again flashes her warm reassuring smile.
"Aren't fantasies supposed to be channeled between husband and wife?" I venture. "And you, Angel, for instance. You're so attractive; I can't believe that you'd need to...improve on reality."
"Alex, I have found that most of the couples I chat with are not meeting each other's total sexual needs. In addition, most husbands and wives don't share their fantasies, at least not the ones that really excite them."
"I know I wouldn't dare share my deepest thoughts about sex with my wife." I snicker as I wonder how she has me talking about this subject so openly. "She would have thought I was a pervert."
"Why is that Alex?"
"I always thought women were indifferent to sexual fantasy. Men are always thinking about sex but not women. All a woman has to do," I try to explain, "is wink at a man and she can have all the sex she wants." I know I'm really blowing this but I've never talked to anyone like this before and probably never will again.
"Well Alex I don't think women are that simplistic. I have sexual fantasies and so does everyone else in this room." She glances around the room.
"Look at that couple over there."
"Yes?" I follow her gaze and smirk. "What about them?" They are about my age, early fifties, and upper middle class.
"They are about your age. What do you think he fantasies about?"
"Probably not his wife." I laugh.