A Tension Seeker Calls
As instructed, I arrive at your door at the appointed time and give three loud taps of the knocker. My heart is pounding, much as it has been since our conversation barely twenty-four hours ago. Was I really going to go through with this?
You open the door, wearing a royal blue cotton dressing gown, just as you said you would. We greet each other with a knowing nod, once again the terms of our agreement. Despite it being our first encounter, the first time our eyes have met, the rules state there shall be no conversation. Your long, dark hair flows down onto your dressing gown. Your dark brown eyes shout out at me. You raise the slightest of smiles, which lets me know you approve. I respond in kind; you are truly a vision of beauty and it takes all my willpower to conceal my excitement. You turn and walk back into your hall and I follow, closing the front door behind me. You lead me past a dimly lit open-plan dining-room-come kitchen-come-lounge, towards the rear of your apartment. As we reach your bedroom door, I hear the strain of soft music emanating from within. You open the door to a room aglow with scented candles placed on every available surface. The trance-like music draws us into your shrine. In the centre of the room a large oak double bed awaits, draped in a pure white cotton duvet. There are matching oak bedside cabinets on either side of the bed; on the left stands an open bottle of red wine and two glasses; on the right-hand an assortment of coloured oils, in various size bottles.
You pour the wine and hand me a glass. We feign a mock ritual toast and drink, our eyes transfixed on each other as we do so. You take my glass and replace it on the bedside table along with yours and stand motionless with your back to me. Instinctively, I approach you from behind, place my arms around your waist and slowly undo the belt of your gown. Your freshly showered scent fills my nostrils and I resist all desire to nuzzle my face into the back of your neck. I ease the gown over your shoulders and let it fall to the floor. Instantly you move away from me and lie on the bed, face down, dressed only in a white lacy pair of matching underwear. You face away from me as agreed, as I unbutton and remove my shirt, kick off my shoes, unfasten my belt and discard my jeans and socks.
In one swift motion, I climb onto the bed and sit astride your rear. We discussed this moment in our encounter while finalising arrangements and to say there was an element of tension expressed by both parties would be an understatement. It is the first time we make physical contact and it is so intimate a contact. I have been aroused from the moment you opened your door to me and you feel it now, pressed firmly against your cheeks. Again I note the faintest of smiles on your face, half buried in your duvet as I take your arms by their wrists and draw them up above your head. Leaning down onto you like this, I grind myself against you and you respond by gently thrusting your hips upwards into me. We spoke of this beforehand and agreed we would resist this teasing. We should’ve known better!
Still leaning over you, I deftly unclasp your bra strap and motion the garment up and over your shoulders. You ease yourself up slightly and allow it to pass from under you, along your arms and towards the head of the bed. I straighten my body once more and digest the sight before me. I am straddling the most desirable body of a complete stranger; I am aching inside my boxers, eager to be released. But this is not his day.
I reach for one of the scented bottles of oil. I am about to fulfil my obligation.