this
night to go this far but his fingers inside me, his body pressing me hard
against the wall and the scent of his skin against mine had turned me into a
wanton slut. I screamed as a year’s worth of pent up frustrations released
onto his fingers, specks of light floated across my closed lids and my arms
wrapped tightly around his neck. “Oh God,” I moaned.
“Oh God is right!” he whispered as he trailed his kisses
over my chin. Instinctively I open my lips, anticipating his wonderful lips on
mine. I push my tongue to the edge as his nose barely touches mine. Into my
open mouth he whispers, “You’re absolutely beautiful.” I felt his fingers
beginning their withdrawal and I clamped down on them in a feeble effort to
keep him in place. He chuckled, “Now, now, Elizabeth, there’ll be plenty of
time for more.”
*-*-*-*-*
I felt a tremendous buzz of euphoria, almost as if I were
walking on pillows as he led me out the club and to my car. Like a true
gentleman he opened the door and helped me in, and as I gathered my wits I
quickly rolled the window down. “Wait! Is that all?”
“Is what all, my dear?”
My frustration was easy to see, and I wanted – no needed –
more. “I thought…”
“I promised to show you, and you want more?”
Sheepishly, but definitely, I wanted more. “Yes. I want
more.”
“Fine.” Graham pulled another blue card from his pocket and
scribbled on the back. Be there, 9:00 P.M. sharp.”
Three
I knocked tentatively on his door the following night, still
unsure of what he wanted from me. I’d spent more time preparing for this
‘date’ than I had my last job interview, but I was a bit surprised that he
hadn’t instructed me on what to wear. ‘A taste.’ That’s what he told me this
night would be. ‘A taste of possibilities.’
His house was a stately affair, too large for one man and
manicured to sterility by some OCD gardener who clearly had strict
instructions. Glancing around his doorway I felt myself become smaller and
smaller, as if I was Alice heading into a dark, unknown world. Shrinking with
doubt and preparing to bolt back to my Toyota, I pushed the button again and
heard the chimes barreling off the inside walls behind the iron and glass door.
There was no warmth here, nothing that would indicate softness.
I cuffed my hands around my face and peered through the glass. I could see him
sitting in an overstuffed chair at the far end of the towering foyer. Did he
hear the door chimes? Maybe he’s changed his mind? I should just go. Why is
he sitting there ignoring me? He told me to be here, I’m on time right? I
checked my phone; it was three minutes till nine, so I was actually a bit
early. Early. Again I glanced around me, not a single pine needle was out of
place in the landscaping, not a wilted leaf anywhere to be seen. This was a
man of clarity. If he told me to be here at nine then that is what he
expected, not a minute earlier or later. I got it now.
That didn’t help the fact that I felt exposed here, standing
on the precipice of his luxury waiting for entry. Everything inside me
screamed for him to let me in, yet I dared not ring the doorbell again. I’m an
amateur, no, worse than that, a beginner with wild ideas and fantasies that
probably should be kept within the confines of my own head. It wouldn’t
surprise me if he left me out here all night, what was I thinking? That I’d
just waltz into his home and he’d bend me over and spank me? Sometimes my own
immaturity is so blaringly obvious that I just want to cringe and crawl under the
nearest rock.
Movement. The door handle clicked as he unlocked it but it
opened only a few inches. I saw him turn away from it and walk casually into
another room. Not the gracious welcome I’d expected, then again who knows what
I’d expected. All that I had in the way of visuals were either staged