You sound distracted when you pick up the phone.
"Guess where I am," I say. No 'hello', just a simple riddle. You take a breath and I hear your whole body change at once. Hear your cheeks warming, your heart racing.
You answer back. "Where?" The smile on your face is audible.
"A hotel near the airport. Can you come?"
You grin at the innuendo.
Two hours later you find me in a dark corner of the, nearly empty, hotel bar. A big screen television shimmers off you as you walk past two aging women who sneer at your beauty. I stand up to meet you, charcoal pants and a loose fitting dress shirt over my body. You smile the whole way across the bar and I follow your eyes until they're upon me. You fall into my arms and we kiss like two people who have never needed kissing so badly.
Your arms take hold of my shoulders, our lips pressing hard, wet mouths tasting each other, an all too brief impression of your tongue on my lips, and then we sit. We order drinks and let the repressed excitement settle around us.
Twenty minutes later we can both feel the warmth between us. We have talked and smiled and realized that it wasn't just something else, that it was real. The look in your eyes is offering something, and the look in mine is accepting it. I watch your thighs as you cross your legs, I watch your breasts as you lean towards your drink. I take a sip and let my hand press against the swelling under my pants. You catch my eye and lick your lips so subtly I nearly miss it.
Your hand is on my knee, nails against my skin. I place my hand on yours, guiding you up my leg slowly. You glance around the room and find no one watching. I lean in and we kiss again. The walls turn away and clear their throat - they've seen a lot of this sort of thing over the years.
"What are you wearing under that?" I ask with a casual air, a tilt of my head.
You take a sip and tell me, in an equally casual tone, about the tight red panties pressed against your skin. I lean back and tell you to give it to me.
You raise your eyebrows in quiet surprise.
"What?"
"Take off your panties and hand them over. Right here."
You look around the room just in time to catch a waiter coming to us. You stay silent as I order us another round. After he leaves you look back to me and smile.
"Do I have to ask you again?" I say this slow and challengingly.
You bite your bottom lip and shift in your seat. Your hands reach up under your skirt, and for a moment I see the very top of your thigh, and it's perfect. You watch my eyes as you lean down to the floor and bring up with you a slice of red fabric. Triumphantly you hand it to me.
"Thank you."
You sit back and finish off your drink as you watch me. I hold your underwear in my hand, and then lay it out on the table top, just sitting their, unmistakable. You look at it oddly as the waiter brings our fresh drinks. He looks down and pauses, just for a moment, as he catches sight of your lingerie sitting on the table. You blush as he smiles and walks away.
You lead the way into my room. It's a dark suite on the twelfth floor. A small dining table, a desk, sofa, large bathroom, and the bedroom. I follow you in, closing the door behind us. You turn on the nearest lamp and turn to face me in the soft light.
"Now what?" You ask in knowing tones as you survey the room, your eyes finding the bedroom off to your left.
I step towards you, as you turn away from me. My hands slip smoothly over your hips, smoothing the fabric against your skin. You turn into me and we kiss. It the hard, hungry kiss of need and want. Our lips pressing, bodies pressing, tongues pressing. My hands grasp at your body as my tongue draws across your lower lip. Mouths open wider, breathing deepens, I feel your breasts against me and pull away. We stare with dilated pupils in the dim light. You turn away and head for the bedroom.
Your face is pressed against cool glass, looking down twelve floors to the street. My hands move up your thighs as I push your skirt up from behind you. Your blouse is slightly open, the cold hardening your nipples as you feel my hand pressing, cupping your bare mound. You gasp and smile.
