We decide to stay home for New Year's, and that suits both of us just fine. We haven't been alone much in the last few weeks.... The holidays have been too busy.
So you're surprised when the envelope arrives with a bouquet of wild flowers, both now sitting on your desk. You open it.... An invitation, by the look of it.....Beginning with lyrics to a Cockburn song.
"These fragile bodies of touch and taste This fragrant skin, this hair like lace Spirits open to the thrust of grace Never a breath you can afford to waste....
"When you're lovers in a dangerous time...."
The Westin tonight, seven, room 1009.
A card to access the room is enclosed.
The package is not signed, but you understand the sentiment. You suspect that I've been hungering for your body, for you. And you know that the feeling is mutual.
The invitation gives you time to go home after work, to wash away the strains of a rough week, and get ready for the night ahead... You're actually nervous when you park near the hotel... It seems like forever since we've been together, since we last touched, kissed, loved...
The doorman holds the door open for you, and you thank him. I'm not there, nor do you find me in the lobby... You thought I would be. So you decide to go right up, hesitating only a second before running the card through the lock.... You notice the room before you notice me. It's huge, with a living area and a bedroom off to the side.
I'm waiting for you in a thick, white terry cloth robe, and we fall together. I'm kissing you all over your mouth, face, neck, ears, so eager to sample every part of you. You can feel my cock, hard as a rock, pressing against you, but I take your hand away when you reach for it. Instead, I pull you into the bedroom, and I undress you... My eyes devouring your body, so warm and fragrant... I tell you how much I've missed you.
I have a robe for you, and you put it on, and then I lead you to the bed. We share a glass of Champagne, and the bubbles go right to your head. We talk a little. And kiss deeply. The anticipation is almost unbearable.
The bed is large, a brass four-poster, and the view of the city from the bedroom window is lovely. After we've drained our glasses, I move very deliberately. To your ear. "You trust me, don't you Samantha..." My voice is ragged, edgy... Thick with passion.
"Yes, of course...." I don't let you finish, silencing you by putting a finger to your lips. I take your robe off, and lay you down on the bed, and proceed to tie your left arm to the bed post, with a karate belt. You don't even know where belt came from.... It must have been under the pillow. And then I do the same with your right arm, still another karate belt. I know how to do this. You can't move, the ropes are holding your arms firmly, but they don't hurt.