A light scent of lavender wafted up when she opened the drawer. She sunk her hands into the soft, silky jumble, smiling, running her fingers over her array of lingerie. She was looking for something specific, something skimpy, and sexy, and soft – a pair of black lace panties, that, when she put them on, would hug her ass snugly, and outline her lips – provocatively, not blatantly. She spotted what she was looking for and fished the panties out.
“Perfect!” she thought, bending to slip them on. She straightened, and pulled them up, turning to preen in front of the mirror. She frowned, wishing she still had the body of her youth, not that she’d appreciated it when she had it. She shook her head and shrugged. It would simply have to do. She returned her attention to the lingerie drawer.
What should she wear? He liked sexy underclothes, but getting undressed was an important element tonight. She shivered with anticipation, thinking of him fumbling with the zipper on her pants, and became decidedly damp when she imagined him pulling them down.
“Careful, girly,” she said to herself. “You’re going to have to change underwear if you keep thinking like that.” She looked at all the pretty silk. “Why not both?” she thought, and picked out a lacy red teddy. It was nylon, not silk, but it stretched and clung to her body, and accentuated her tits. He’d like that, she was sure of it. So she slipped it on. She grabbed her jeans and shimmied into them, tucking the teddy in.
This was not a bad look, just like that, she thought. But no, she wanted him to undress her. She riffled through her blouses. Unbutton, or pull off? She couldn’t decide. Her favorite floral chiffon top caught her eye. It did have buttons, but could be slipped easily over her head, as well. She’d wear that one, and let him decide.
She neatened up the room, and went to the kitchen. She opened a bottle of wine, not sure if, or when, they might drink it, but he had once intimated that he would enjoy licking wine off her breasts, so she figured it was best to be prepared.
She looked at the clock. Less than an hour. She was so excited, she couldn’t stay still. He was coming this time, surely he was. He had promised. He wasn’t going to disappoint her again. He wanted this as much as she did. Didn’t he?
She checked her makeup, and brushed her long auburn hair yet again. She was so nervous! Why? She’d done this before. It was because tonight it was him. The man who, through design, or chance, had managed to tap her deepest desires. She had wanted him for so long. And tonight! Tonight, she would finally feel his touch, hear his voice, taste his kisses.
She realized her hands were shaking. She reapplied her dark, vibrant lipstick. The sun had set, so she made sure there was soft lighting in the bedroom, and in the front room. She didn’t want any harsh light to start off with. He was younger than she, and despite having entertained younger men before with no complaint, she was still self-conscious about her age.
Her heart skipped when she heard his car in the drive. “Oh, god,” she said, trying to catch her breath, putting her hand to her chest, as though it would still her fluttering heart. When he knocked, she walked to the door. She stood perfectly still for one second before taking a deep breath, and opening it.
Her eyes widened with pleasure as her gaze swept over him, taking in his height – he was tall, she loved that! It was cold outside, so he was wearing a coat, but she got a sense of his body, the jeans that hung just right on his narrow hips.
“Hi,” she said, smiling. “Come in.” He walked through the door, and dropped his bag. They stood there, and she stayed still as his eyes now raked over her. She willed herself not to give the “What do you think?” questioning shrug.
“You came,” she said breathlessly, and stepped close to him.
“I did,” he responded, and reached out, pulling her to him. Her arms snaked up around his shoulders and she turned her face up to him.
“I’m so glad,” she whispered just before she felt his lips on hers. It was the kiss she had dreamed of …