The door swung open surprisingly easy for its mass. Heavy ornate carvings and scrolling on the solid cherry, the colors of the leaded stained glass muted by the darkness on the other side, a stark contrast to the brightness of the lobby. Stepping through, I hoped my eyes adjusted quickly, not wanting to trip and look like a fool as I made my way towards the bar.
Slipping onto a padded stool, I tried to casually look around, when in reality it felt as if a thousand sand crabs were clawing their way up and down my spine. A million 'what-ifs' raced through my mind, again. I searched the room, peering into the darkened corners, the purposely barely lit booths.
There she was, in a booth on the other side, her back to the wall. Her face lit like a cherub in the flickering candlelight, more beautiful than her picture suggested. I searched her face, her eyes, looking for telltale signs. As I knew she was of me.
We had met innocently enough, neither looking for another, in an online game room. We shared table conversation about this and that, the topic of the day, other players. We found we shared many interests, many hobbies, and many enjoyments. We became friends. Then we became online lovers.
This surprised both of us, as neither had wants nor needs. Both happily married, more or less. But it did happen, to both of our great joy and pleasure. As time progressed, we discovered that not only were we lovers, but that we were in love too. Needs grew. Wants grew. Desires grew, and the passion became overwhelmingly intense. We knew we were heading towards the inevitable, about to enter possibly dangerous territory. Finally, we both agreed, it was time.
We left ourselves many 'outs'. A town unfamiliar to both. This meeting here at the bar, without direct approach. We arranged for many opportunities to call it off. If either of us chickened out, we could just walk out without a word. If either of us decided it was not yet time, we would sit here, content with just talk. I was ready to progress to the next level, all I needed was a sign.
Looking over to her, I was pleased to see her still here, a good sign, as was her nervous smile. I breathed easier, the pins and needles in the barstool retracting noticeably. I smiled back with relief.
Disturbed by a sound, I turned to see the bartender place a snifter of brandy in front of me. He nodded in her direction. I was accepted! I instructed him to deliver a glass of wine to her, my response. He brought it to her, replacing her already empty glass. She smiled in her own relief, knowing my intent to continue.
She drank quickly, our eyes never leaving the other. I sipped my brandy a bit, and then gulped the last half. I watched her drain the last of hers. Was she as nervous as I? Was she still filled with as much desire as I? It was time to find out.
Putting down my empty glass, along with a generous tip, I got up and strolled out the door. My senses so aroused, the brightness of the lobby almost blinding in comparison. I made my way to the elevators, not too fast, not too slow. Not looking back to see if she was still here, following.
I had taken a penthouse suite. If all else failed, at least I'd have a comfortable weekend, alone. The doors opened, and I slipped into the elevator car, moving to the back. Turning, I saw two other couples enter. Then she stepped in and flowed through to the back of the car. She was dressed in a cotton sundress and sandals, the dress cut to mid-thigh, not too low in the cleavage, but low cut under her arms. She also had on a short bolero style jacket, and her hair in a ponytail.
She looked absolutely delicious, and I took note that the others in the elevator noticed her too. We pretended not to know each other.
The car stopped at the second floor, then the third, each time letting on one or two people, presumably heading to the fancy restaurant also on the top floor. As the car filled, people stepped back to let others on, she slipped in front of me. Leaning forward, I could smell her perfume. The scent of her shampoo. Were the little goose bumps on the back of her neck from anticipation, or from the heat of my breath on her neck?
As is common in elevators, the silence was broken by the sounds of soft music. Being in the back left corner, I placed my left hand on her hip. She leaned back into me. My hand slipped up her side, until I felt the delicate softness of her skin in the deep opening of her sundress under her arm. Softly, slowly, my hand slipped forward, the movements concealed by her jacket, to cup her left breast. Her nipple was rock hard as my thumb floated over and around it. She pressed back to me, her right hand reached back to clench my jeans at my thigh, feeling my bulge against the small of her back.
Fifth floor, four more to go on this slow ride. I slipped my hand off her breast, sliding down her side, gliding over her hip, my fingertips barely there as I came to a stop on her thigh. My fingers started clawing her sundress up, inch by tantalizing inch. I glanced around the packed car; no one seemed to notice. Feeling the silky smoothness of her thigh, my fingers slipped forward. She pressed back harder, almost imperceptibly grinding her ass to my crotch. My fingers traced over her lacey panties, to her mons pubis, already damp. I felt her shudder against me, letting go a barely audible gasp. She was as much on edge as I was.
