"I think we should meet."
Over and over, again, I rolled the words across the tongue in my mind's mouth, like a buttery-toffee, leaving sweet trails of delight in its wake. A meeting. She and I. My mind raced with wild abandon at the possibilities.
Since the divorce from my loving wife of twenty years, I had precariously guarded my heart from experiencing such pain and loss again. That is why I had turned to the Internet. While online, I could satisfy the needs of my heart and my desires, without surrendering my safety. And over the past few months I had become quite close to a gentle and kindred soul by the name of Marie.
Her passion was like none I had ever seen. An exquisite pearl, hidden within the oyster of her own insecurities and self-doubts. And her own sexuality was a tribute to the female spirit. A bead of sensual ecstasy, lying dormant beneath the hood of a "proper lady", waiting to be awakened.
For an entire day, I sat in thought, weighing the pros and cons of such a meeting.
Logic insisted that I refuse the request. By agreeing to meet, I would only be setting myself up for yet another painful fall from grace.
But my heart insisted otherwise. If there was one thing that I had learned in my wife's absence, it was the need for companionship. After twenty years of sleeping with my wife in bed next to me, I found myself awake far too many restless nights, hoping to find that I was merely dreaming, and that, in deed, she was in bed beside me.
And so, with a deep sense of anxiety and excitement, with the risk that I was about to take, I responded to her request.
"I agree. Name the time and place, and I'll be there."
My finger poised above the enter key, I reconsidered one final time, before sending the message. All day I stayed online, hoping to hear from her. Hoping to know that she had been as anxious for my response, as I now was for hers.
And then my answer came.
"Terrific. We're in luck, because I discovered just this morning that I am to take a business trip to your city during the first weekend of next month. If you can scope out the entertainment, then I will provide the room."
I was shocked. I hadn't realized that such a meeting would come about so easily. A natural pessimist, due to my wife's infidelity, I had assumed that we would spend months planning the details of our "date".
Within the coming weeks I fleshed out the details of our meeting. And I was on pins and needles the entire time, giddy with an excitement that I had not felt since my wedding night.
Eventually the day arrived and I checked and double-checked every detail. I called the hotel to make sure that her room was ready and waiting for her arrival and I also made sure that her package was awaiting her. With the assurances of the desk clerk I smiled and marked my checklist. Only a few more things and I could relax and wait for her to call.
As the final item was placed on my checklist, I leaned back onto my couch and thought back to the note that I'd left with her package.
"This my dear, is your part in tonight's culmination. First, I want you to remove all of your clothing and stand in front of your mirror, visualizing your own sexuality. Envision yourself as I see you, a perfect union of beauty, intelligence and wit."
"Next you will individually and with great care adorn yourself with the jewelry items that I have selected. Again, admire yourself in the mirror, paying close attention to the sharp contrast between your dark, tanned skin and the bright, gleaming gold."
"Then you will place one dab of perfume upon each of the following locations: just above your clit, just above your navel, and at the bottom of your neck. Just a dab, mind you."
"Fourth, you will dress yourself in the lingerie that I have chosen for you. I hope that I have guessed your size correctly."
"Fifth, I want you to put on the dress. This garment is essential to the second part of our evening, so take great care in concealing it from me. I do not wish to see a glimpse of it, until I am ready."
"And last, but not least, you will wear the gown and shoes. I leave the rest of your appearance up to your discretion."
"When you have finished, tell the man at the front desk that you are Madame Marie and that you need travel arrangements. The rest, leave up to me."
"Yours Truly, J. D."
Again I smiled as I pictured her opening the boxes of clothing, her imagination running rampant with mystery and curiosity at my plans. Ah, what subtle art foreplay was. To spark one's sense of touch was a simple matter of friction, capable by even the clumsiest of lovers. But to spark the sense of one's imagination was a far more demanding and rewarding venture.
My thoughts were interrupted as someone's electric guitar split the air with its scream. Touching the intercom button on my desk I yelled into the speaker "God Damnit Josie, we don't want to deafen the crowd tonight. After all they are paying us to listen to this noise. The least we can do is leave their health in good order."
"Yes sir," came the nervous and whiny voice of my Events Director. "I'll remind the band."
Again I was startled as my cellphone chimed away, inside my jacket pocket. I looked at the time and realized that I must have lost track of time, because it was nearly 8 o'clock in the evening.
"Good evening sir. Jonathan here, from the hotel. Madame has just left the building sir and I must say, she is quite striking."
"Thank you Jonathan. You know what to do."
As he hung up I once again spoke into the intercom. "Josie, where is Joseph at the moment?"
"I believe he's out front, waiting for you, sir."
"Very good, love."
Standing up I strolled casually towards the door, struggling against my own excitement and nervousness, butterflies dancing painfully in the pit of my stomach. With a deep breath, I ticked in my suit jacket and strove toward my appointment.
As it was, I arrived before my date for the evening, securing our table for the first part of our evening. As I finished negotiations with the matre'de my phone rang yet again.
"Sir, we have arrived."
.... There is more of this story ...