Before shutting down my computer for the day, I open the email and read it one last time. A thrill races through me as I think of the evening ahead. “Jaimee,” I whisper, his name lingering on my lips. I am to meet him, finally, after months of chatting and trading emails; some are nothing more than delightful conversations of likes and dislikes, hobbies, etc. Other times, they are deep, reflective chats, allowing the trust to build, the friendship to flourish. Although the topic at times revolves around sex, we never take it to the level of online eroticy... yet I cannot deny the underlying current of sexual awareness that passes between us each time we talk. How can you feel such things about someone you've never met? About someone with whom you have never shared such intimacy? I can't explain how... I can only tell you it is very much a possibility.
His email asks me to meet him after work, at the Park 75 Lounge and Terrace of the Four Seasons Hotel for cocktails, after which we will decide on dinner. There is no need to go home before meeting him... my office houses a private restroom, a wonderful concept on days like this one. I lock my office door to the outside world at 5:00 and turn on the answering service, wanting no interruptions as I prepare for what will be turn out to be the most exciting, unbelievable experience I could have hoped for. With 45 minutes to spare, I hurry to the other room.
Removing my clothes, I open the closet to extract the necessary items I will need. I open the fragrant vanilla cream I so love to use, inhaling the scent deeply before applying it to my bare skin. As always happens, I feel the burning ache begin low in my belly as the scent winds its way into my senses. As I re-apply my makeup, I wonder if he will be taken by what he sees. Brushing my long, wavy hair, I can't help but imagine the feel of his hands sifting through it. Sliding carefully into my dress of deep red, I imagine his hand on my back, left bare by the wonderful imagination of the dress designer. Once dressed, I apply Tuscany to my pulse points, and to a few hidden areas... just in case. Combined with the vanilla, I am incredibly tempted to indulge in a bout self-pleasure... but the upcoming meeting takes priority. Minimal jewelry is needed - simple earrings, a bracelet, and a couple of rings. My nails were perfected the night before, the color matching my dress. Slipping into the red color-matched, strappy sandals, I shiver in anticipation of the evening ahead, intuition telling me that it will be extraordinary.
One last look in the chival mirror in the corner of my office, and I am ready to go. Excitement and a tiny amount of trepidation fill me as I turn off the lights and lock the door behind me. Although we both live near Atlanta, and work within blocks of each other, Jaimee and I decided long ago not to rush into a meeting. We agreed that, until it felt right, it wasn't to be done. Tonight feels right.
I enter the Four Seasons, making my way to the Lounge with even steps... not hurried, but clearly not wanting to wait another minute. I enter, and immediately feel that he isn't there yet. I look around the room, but every male I see is not alone. That is fine with me, as it allows me another few minutes to collect my thoughts and school my nervousness. Deciding to order a drink while I wait, I make my way to the bar, slipping onto a stool and requesting a glass of Zinfandel. I sip it slowly, watching people enter and leave. The bartender returns, and as I am about to tell him I'm fine with what I have, he sets an unopened bottle of the same wine on the counter. He slides an envelope towards me, and says he was requested to give it to me, in addition to the wine. Intrigued, I slide a nail under the flap of the envelope and extract the note inside. My heart begins to race, my nerves begin to thrum as I read the words neatly printed on cream-colored paper. "Savannah… bring the wine upstairs to the Presidential Suite, 19th floor. The key is enclosed, but do not turn on the light when you enter. I will help you find your way."
Standing outside the door to the suite, I take several deep breaths before inserting the key. As the door opens, I step into a small foyer, and see that it turns to the right, not allowing me to see any further into the suite. The door closes behind me with a soft click, causing my nerves to jump wildly. The thrill of adventure has far overpowered the fear of the unknown. I know instinctively that this is to be a night to remember; I know he will not harm me. “Jaimee?” I call out softly.
A hand touches my face in a light caress, startling me. “Savannah…” The surprise quickly fades, replaced with warmth as a voice whispers, "Don't be afraid... I have waited and wanted to meet you for so long. I will not harm you, only pleasure you. Take my arm, please." As I curl my fingers around his arm, I notice it how soft his skin is, and though his arm is firm, he doesn't appear to be muscular. Though I have never seen even a picture of him, I am not concerned about this. I am drawn to his spirit, his soul. This is what I wish to know of him, to explore with him.
I allow him to lead me to another room, and he does so with ease. We are in the living quarters, he tells me, as he seats me on a sofa. He kneels before me, sliding my sandals off, caressing each foot as he bares it. He rises, and I feel him sit beside me, not touching. I open my lips to speak, and suddenly his lips are on mine, softly seeking. He tentatively brushes his tongue over my lower lip, and I am lost. I want to touch him, to study his face with my fingertips, to memorize him.
As if sensing my thoughts, my needs, Jaimee draws back. A moment passes before he whispers once again, "I have waited for this moment. Savannah… you are so very important to me, and I want to share myself with you. But first... I need to know that you will accept me no matter what you discover." Overcome with tenderness for this man I am meeting for the first time, yet know almost as well as I know myself, I agree. I feel him stand, taking my wrist in his hand and pulling me up with him. Stepping closer, yet not close enough for his body to brush mine, Jaimee cups my face in his hands, lowering his lips to mine... brushing lightly, sipping gently, before parting mine with his tongue, so soft, so wet. My heart is racing out of control, my breathing uneven, desire flowing in rivers throughout my body. How can a simple kiss do this? I wonder. It is at this time I realize he is not much taller than I am, perhaps a couple of inches taller. Again, I am okay with this discovery.
Jaimee deepens the kiss, and I am lost once more. He takes my wrists, placing my hands on his hips. I am surprised at the slimness of his body, but not in the least turned off. It is his mind that draws me, his spirit that excites me, his soul that captivates me. I am fiercely attracted to him in ways I didn't know were possible.
I feel him tremble as I make my way up his toned body. I tremble as well, from mounting desire, wanting his hands to caress my heated flesh, needing him to tame the fires burning deep inside. As I continue my trek upwards, my hands curve inward on a waistline unlike any I've ever encountered on a man, and my breath lodges in my throat, my hands still. Realization hits me hard, and I am unable to speak, to utter a sound. The kiss stops; there is no sound in the room. I find my voice, whispering softly, "Jaimee?"
"Yes...,” comes the whispered reply.
Of their own volition, my fingers stretch higher, reaching, seeking... at last, finding. Desire, trepidation, excitement, and overwhelming lust fill me as my hands curve over the full, luscious breasts of the woman standing before me.
