He looked up from his story and said, "Did you like it?"
She smiled at him, stood up from the bed and took her white shirt off. Underneath was an ivory colored camisole, cotton, modestly covering her bra.
"That was a nice story," she said as she lay back down on the bed, "Thank you for writing it. And thank you for not rushing me."
He looked at her and the soft swell of her tummy peeking out from the bottom of the camisole. He reached out and caressed that belly. His hand swirled around lightly gliding over her soft skin.
"I wouldn't dream of rushing you. We have all afternoon. And you know you don't have to do anything you don't want to do," as he said that his hand continued making circles that grew larger and larger, then smaller and smaller ending on her delicate navel.
"I know," she said with her eyes closed. "Wait," she stood once again and this time removed her bra from underneath her camisole. She tossed the bra aside and lay back in the bed.
It was another milestone crossed. The first marker of the day was when she actually got in his car and gave him a big hug while also flashing her bra as her loose-necked shirt came forward. The next was entering the hotel and getting their room key. Nerves were on edge. If anyone they knew had walked by at that moment, their fantasy world would have come tumbling down.
They rode up the elevator and then had a frantic search for their room. The tension was rising as they finally entered room 714-not 711-but a mere three digits off of his fantasy room number, a coincidence that settled him, as if everything was aligning properly.
The next barrier was their first standing hug. A strong hug that seemed to placate much of the nervous energy that was whizzing about the room. There was the first passionate kiss which was so right and of course so wrong but felt so good that there was no doubt in his mind that things would continue along this erotic road.
But first they had to clear the tray with a vase of flowers from the bed, lower the shades, open a window and turn on the fan. There were lights to be turned on and off and then lowered. He took off his shirt so as not to wrinkle it. Shoes and socks were removed, and nerves soothed.
To break the ice some more he read her part two of this story. Which brought them to this point. His hand circled under her camisole, having been given free access to the rest of her upper body.
"I love this camisole. It's exactly what I pictured you wearing when you told me about playing with yourself at night, along with your sweatpants. It was so erotic to hear you talk about reaching under your t-shirt and stroking your breast," he said as his hand moved up to her right breast and continued to circle her areola, "And the way you described reaching your hand down into your sweats and into your dampness got me so damn hot."
Her eyes were clamped shut as the reality of her breasts being touched was rising in her consciousness. She was a good girl. Good girls did not come to hotel rooms and have their breasts caressed by a man who wasn't her husband.
Then again good girls didn't engage in flirtatious phone calls that escalated over six months into full-blown erotic phone sex. And it felt so good. It was even better than she had imagined.
"I have been dying to see how sensitive your breasts were. You told me you could come just from touching your breasts. I want to see if that's true."
With that he raised the camisole hem up to her neck, revealing the breasts he had not seen in reality for over 25 years but had been dreaming of for many months, The nipples were puffy with anticipation and the right immediately became turgid with excitement as his mouth closed over it. He closed his eyes as his tongue lazily explored the breast. Her moans excited him even more as he brought his teeth lightly over the nipple, grazing its soft rigidity. Then his mouth moistened the nipple and his tongue pressed harder against this erotic nerve center.
When he broke off this kiss she grabbed his head with both hands and opened her mouth wide to take their passionate kiss to yet another level. He felt an urgency now in their tongue dance that replaced the earlier tentative curiosity. Yet another barrier was coming down.
Now it was his turn to stop and remove some clothing. His pants came off and put on a hanger. He was down to his boxers while she still had on her tight hip hugging blue jeans and camisole.
He gestured to her pants and silently asked permission to take them off. She nodded. He unsnapped her jeans and started to peel them off her long legs. He was thrilled by the silky smoothness of her legs as he rolled the tight jeans down. He was careful not to disturb her panties. He recognized the value of proceeding slowly and reveling in each layer of clothing as another inhibition to be overcome.
Tiny Calvin Klein logos covered the sexy bikini bottom in a lavender print. They were side-less, almost a g-string. They were so tiny and delicate. It was a true visual feast that would live in his sexual memory for many years.
He leaned down and kissed her mound in reverence. He inhaled her sexuality and rubbed his chin against the Klein logos. He rolled his chin, his cheek and his entire face against the soft cotton, teasing her with hints of what he wanted to do to her.
Her arms were behind her head, her eyes closed and face rolling like a kitten having her belly rubbed. Finally he took his fingers and hooked the sides of the panties and pulled them down to reveal a beautifully trimmed garden.
