So today was finally the day. She always wondered what the weather would be like when this day finally arrived. The day she finally stood face to face with her on line lover of four years. It turns out it is mid-November, it is crisp, but not cold, it is a beautiful, bright sunny day. She has made herself available for him from mid- afternoon until late evening. The lies came easily; after all she has had years to fashion them.
She has tried to dress as provocatively as possible given she would be coming directly from work with no time to change. She is wearing a patterned, black, wrap around skirt that hits her at mid-thigh, form fitting black turtleneck, stiletto-heeled, knee high boots. She has taken the time to squirm out of her pantyhose in her car, in order to provide him easy access to what is sure to soon be a wet, hungry pussy.
She smells delicious as she had purposely smoothed her favorite lotion all over her body that morning. A warm scent of vanilla and brown sugar that never fails to put her in an amorous mood. She feels overwhelmingly sexy. She feels like a good fuck.
She notices the changes in her body as she grows closer to her destination. She feels the butterflies doing somersaults in her stomach, her palms are slightly moist, and her mouth has gone so dry she will need a river of water to counteract it when she arrives at the restaurant.
She also feels her pussy stir with a slight tingling at the thought of touching him for the first time, his hand at the small of her back as he guides her to their table. She wakes from this reverie to realize she has arrived at her destination as if by autopilot.
She tousles her hair one last time, does a quick check of herself in the rearview mirror, grabs her little, black purse, and swings her legs out of the car. She walks toward the restaurant outwardly appearing collected and in control of all her faculties while she inwardly struggles with the excitement, anxiety, joy, and sexual tension of finally coming to the end of this long, winding road with him.
She opens the door, walks in, and he is there. The hostess is blabbering something about "Welcome to_____, blah, blah, blah," as she locks eyes with him. He walks over to her with that endearing smile on his face that she has memorized by now. He stops just short of her; they take each other in for a moment. This has been seemingly a lifetime in coming; neither can quite believe they are actually standing in front of one another. As he leans in to hug her she realizes that he towers over her, as he takes her in his arms for a quick hug of greeting her cheek is flat against his chest. She wants to melt into him. It had been her idea to meet for lunch first. She wanted to build the sexual tension to a fever pitch. Now she wonders how long she will have to endure the agony of lunch before he takes her back to his hotel.
They sit down at their table. They talk. She is nervous at first, unsure of what to say. He talks, she listens until she starts to feel more comfortable. Soon familiarity starts to kick in, they know a lot about each other after all these years. They talk about their children, work, home improvements, their lives. They are not strangers, they have a history together.
They eat, they talk, they laugh, they flirt.
When dessert comes he leans in, looks her in the eye and whispers, "Are you wearing panties this afternoon?"
She feels her pussy go hot and moist with those words. She smiles, glances down, then back up to him and shakes her head no with a playful grin on her face.
"Show me," he whispers.
She moves to the chair directly next to his, takes his hand, places it on her thigh, and slowly guides it under her skirt. He closes his eyes and moans softly when his hand reaches her pantiless, dripping wet pussy.
"That is what you do to me," she breathes.
She takes his hand from under her skirt, brings it up to her lips and delicately sucks her juices from his fingers
"Let's go, NOW" he groans.
She doesn't argue. Their dessert is left untouched on the table.
She keeps herself at arm's length from him as they walk out to the parking lot. She fears if she allows him to touch her, perhaps kiss her that she will just let him fuck her right here in her car. That is not what she wants for their first time. She turns to him as they reach her car and tells him she will follow him to his hotel, spreading her legs as she gets into her vehicle just enough to give him a brief flash of her neatly trimmed little triangle.
Although the trip to his hotel is less than five minutes, it feels like forever. She squirms in her seat, wants to touch herself, but doesn't dare do so for fear she won't be able to stop. She worries that she has created a wet stain on the back of her skirt as she exits her vehicle.
