Clare and her husband had three children. Louise the eldest daughter was married to Dan. The other two daughters were still in their teens. They all stood in line, including Louise and Dan, at the check-in desk at London Heathrow airport to fly to the USA for a family holiday. However, Clare discovered that she'd forgotten her passport. She was distraught and upset at the prospect of driving back home to collect her passport and then possibly missing the flight. Dan stepped in - he knew a route to avoid the traffic jams - and together they left the rest of the family who continued with their check-in.
On their return to Heathrow, Clare and Dan discovered their flight was on the runway and they had missed it. Clare felt wretched and miserable for causing this problem and wanted to cry into Dan's chest. He took hold of her wrists, placed them on his shoulders and said, "My mother-in-law needs a hug."
Clare let her body relax a little. She felt his strength, his arms tight around her waist. Her face rested on his neck, his masculine smell coming from his open-neck shirt.
He said, "I'm not letting you go until you let me make the decisions." He tightened his hug. She nodded, her eyelashes in touch with his skin every time she blinked. "Your eyelashes feel like butterflies," he murmured.
"Thank you." She kept her arms on his shoulders and liked the embrace she was getting. It made her feel secure. Clare spoke, "Okay. You decide what to do."
Dan lead the way to the British Airways desk to book the next available flight to Boston, due out at lunchtime tomorrow. Next, she followed him out of the terminal and got in a taxi. He instructed the driver, "Take us to the best airport hotel, please." And 10 minutes later they entered the lobby of a 5-star hotel. At reception, Clare let Dan do the talking. "We want one room for the night," said Dan, "on the quiet side of the hotel, large double bed." Then he asked the girl sweetly for an upgrade at no further cost, bearing in mind the lateness of their booking. He got it.
Clare was about to say something about the double bed but she remembered the deal with Dan - to let him arrange everything. The room was luxury, better than any hotel room she'd stayed in. She liked Dan's confidence.
He took her hand. "This is the plan," he said. "We're going to have a shower. Then I'm taking you out to dinner at a restaurant near here which I know. Then we sleep together."
Although Clare was going to query his words, "we sleep together", the moment passed as she allowed Dan to open the bathroom door to usher her in.
"You first to shower," he said.
With mixed feelings, Clare let the shower cascade over her body. She fantasised about Dan joining her and wondered what he'd be like in the shower although it felt naughty to think in those terms about her son-in-law. His broad shoulders and tanned skin looked nice. Louise had met Dan on the tennis court of the local club and Clare recalled how fit he looked, 6 foot, dark hair cut short, espresso eyes. He was a good tennis player and whenever Clare watched him play she always looked at his legs and bum, a sort of private fantasy at the power in those hips of his. As she soaped herself, Clare remembered something Louise had said about Dan - "powerful in bed," Louise had said, "and big too."
Clare was embarrassed at her thoughts and called out, "Dan, could you get me the towel, please."
He entered the bathroom, took the towel over to the steamed glass door of the shower cubicle and waited.
"You can drop it on the floor," she said. The steam was beginning to clear from the glass screen.
"I'll shut my eyes so you can step out. I'll wrap it around you."
She wondered whether to argue or not. Covering her large firm breasts with her arms, she opened the door and stepped out. "You haven't closed your eyes." Clare turned to have him put the towel around her and let him dry her shoulders and back.
"I know what you look like, Clare, with your bikini on. Seen you enough times by the pool sunbathing ... topless. You have a beautiful figure."
Sometimes, friends of Clare had remarked that she looked a bit like the actress Reece Witherspoon - long fair hair, blue eyes, a crease on the right side of her mouth when she smiled, height of 5'1" but a slightly bigger breast size than Reece. "You shower, Dan, while I get dressed." She left the bathroom to rummage through her holiday suitcase for her best knickers. She was glad she had kept herself in good shape - exercise and sensible eating - because Clare looked younger than her 45 years. As she picked out her black slim dress, it came as a shock that she wanted to look her best for Dan. What was she thinking? and immediately she felt guilty.
Half an hour later, they sat opposite each other at a corner table in the restaurant. French bistro-style, informal, low lighting with candles on each small table and Parisian music in the background. Their conversation was about family but the revelation came out that Dan and Louise were going through a rough patch. "Why?" asked Clare.
Dan chewed his lip and looked sheepish. "To tell you the truth, I let it slip to Louise that I found her mother quite attractive." He fell silent.
It took a second for Clare to realise the implications. "Me? Why?"
"You're good company, a beautiful person, great figure ..."
She interrupted, "I didn't mean 'why me'. Why did you TELL Louise?"
"It just came out. Should I have told you instead?" He smiled with a twist to his mouth which made him look vulnerable, Clare thought.
"Well ... it would have been better telling me, rather than telling my daughter you found me attractive." She sipped her wine to gather her thoughts. The table was small enough to have a private conversation. "What other secrets do you have which you shouldn't tell Louise?"
After a few seconds, he said, "I love you, Clare." He sat back. "You're making me say things I shouldn't be saying to you."
"Definitely, don't tell my daughter that. I'm guessing Louise is not giving you what you want in the bedroom."
"Louise doesn't want to play any more. Sex is infrequent. Marriage does that?"
"Couples have to work at it. In other words, in my marriage, if I don't feel like sex I'll give my hubby a hand-job to put out his fire." Clare wondered what it would be like to service Dan. "Does Louise do that for you?"
"No."
"Do you do it yourself?" Clare felt her nipples expand. They became caught in the lace fabric of her bra.
