Change of Plans

We’re going to that party in the financial district tonight, that benefit she was so happy to get tickets for. And I’m at home this afternoon, reading as usual. Yet I cannot wait to see her. It’ll be our first New Year’s Eve together, and I’m hoping tonight’s event doesn’t take up all our time. I want much more than to have to steal a kiss from her in some secluded spot, or much worse, not at all.

I call her cell and of course she’s shopping.

‘Just picking up my dress for this evening,’ she says with an audible smile. ‘I think you’ll be quite pleased…it looks amazing on me.’

I smile at her arrogance. Appropriate as it may be, it always amuses me.

‘Baby?’ I ask softly.

‘Hmm?’ I hear her say somewhat distractedly. She must be paying the dry cleaners.

‘Why don’t we catch a movie before the party…that new Spielberg flick. It looks good. We could see the 6 o’clock show, and go straight to the party afterward.’

‘Uh…alright, I guess,’ she says nonchalantly. ‘I’ll have to meet you there though. That theatre by the opera house, right?’

‘Exactly.’

‘OK…6 it is. Oh and honey…?’ she trails off.

‘Yes?’

‘If you absolutely insist on wearing pants, wear that beige sweater I bought you.’

At 6:15, she steps out of a cab in front of the cinema. I’m standing on the steps watching her pay the cabbie. She’s rushing, and she’s right--she does look amazing. For even though she’s wearing that long, black coat, I can see her dress looks absolutely radiant on her…the spaghetti straps, low cut, the slit down the side. Her short, black hair and caramel skin complement the style, the fabric perfectly.

She sees me and smiles unapologetically. Eyeing me over, she trails her fingers playfully over my sweater and tickles the back of my neck. This has been a well-received greeting for some time now, and yet its effect is just as exciting as the first time she did it.

We sit in the second to last row, in the middle. The opening credits begin just as we are sitting down. I was surprised to see it not crowded for a Tuesday evening, with all the restaurants nearby. But then again, this is New Year’s Eve. Everyone will have different plans.

My coat is on the seat to my right, but she leaves hers on. She insists that theatre seats are ‘absolutely filthy’, but with that dress on I don’t blame her for wanting some sort of barrier. Her legs are crossed, as she sits at a slight angle. The dress clings so perfectly to her body. Even in the flickering light of this theatre, her skin looks so beautiful, so inviting against the fabric.

As the plot builds, our arms lay against one another on the seat rest. I touch my hand against hers, moving my right index finger over her left hand. She responds to my touch, her hand softening and molding against mine. We’ve held hands in the theatre before, yet this wasn’t enough this time. I wanted so much to have her against me, even lying beside me. The movie was merely a vehicle to see her sooner anyway. With every little laugh she gave, I wanted to touch her face, kiss her forehead. But I bore the anticipation, despite my fantasies about her during the movie. All I could do was keep my hand with hers, now and then gently caressing her soft skin with my fingertips. And imagine what might come later…

We hailed a cab after the movie, and headed into the financial district. This exclusive engagement was to be held at Shari--a trendy nightclub set in the penthouse of the Sagan Building. It offered a majestic view of the entire city, not to mention the music and the crowd tonight was expected to make it the place to be.

Men and women alike were stealing glances, some more obviously than others, from the minute we walked in and checked our coats. When I went to get drinks from the bar, I returned to find a handsome blond man in a dark suit talking quite animatedly with her. I handed her the ‘very dirty martini’ and took a sip of my cape cod. He smiled politely as I approached, though he was clearly disappointed that I appeared to be her companion for the evening. Still, he stayed on and conversed with us, trying to ascertain our relationship. Yet she kept it geared toward business, for they were both involved in investment banking. His associate, a slim brunette woman in a low cut red dress, joined us after a while. At this juncture, he seized the opportunity in asking my girlfriend to dance. She accepted, winking at me as she handed me her drink.

I’ve never been much of a dancer…well, maybe for slow songs, but only in the right company and in a comfortable place. The floor was filled with people of all kinds—young and old, beautiful and those who only thought they were. But I loved watching her. Even now, as this gawking yuppie tried his best to keep up with her, she dazzled in every way possible. Tina, his associate, stayed with me. At first I thought this was to ensure Eric’s occupancy with my girlfriend on the dance floor. Though when she made a blatant pass at me, I was rather surprised. ‘You have something on your….oh, let me get it….’ Tina’s finger trailed against my lips, and my eyes gave a silent, yet stern look of admonishment.

But this occurred as a slow song was beginning, so she left the floor and the company of the lanky blond. Moving away from the center of the room, we watched the French circus act for a few minutes. Then we opted to try the sushi that was being served amidst ice carvings and sculptures. We separated for a while when I ran into a colleague unexpectedly. She never liked hanging around ‘those homely academic types’ too long, and so went on her own for a bit. But our eyes met continually throughout the night, exchanging smiles and glances. And no matter what the conversation, what music filled the room, what announcement was being made, I continually thought of her, ached to be near her.

Two drinks into the night, I had to use the restroom. I was surprised to find it empty, as it wasn’t private. The lighting was warm on my face as I stood washing my hands in the brushed stainless steel basin. As I was leaving the room, she entered. Immediately, before I could even imagine her reaction, I pulled her against the wall and kissed her. Hard. My hands held her there for a moment, close to me. She looked at me silently afterward, as I touched my lip with my finger.

‘That was…unexpected,’ she said.

Maybe I shouldn’t have done that, for I couldn’t tell if she was irritated or not. It just came so readily, almost instinctively. Before I could say anything two garrulous women walked in, and she walked forward and entered a stall. I re-entered the party at that point, heading for the bar to ease my mind about the unwarranted kiss.

I found myself surrounded by women and men who were hysterically laughing. And I was laughing too, though I couldn’t remember why. A frenzied, red-headed woman was in the center of the group, telling the funniest jokes. Someone said she was a comedienne. ‘Of course all her shows are booked while she’s in town.’ When I felt a warm hand on the small of my back, I turned to see her standing there, stunning in that dress. She opened her mouth to say something but nothing came out. Even after that kiss in the restroom, I immediately wanted to kiss her again, to feel her. That slight touch she had on my back was enough to uproot my desire, my hunger for her again.

‘Maybe we should go,’ she says into my ear. It was getting quite loud at that point.

‘Really?’ I say, taking a sip of my drink. ‘It’s only 10:45,’ I continue, glancing at my watch. ‘You don’t want to stay until midnight?’

She shakes her head, and I think something is horribly wrong. I put my drink down and ask her if she’s feeling alright. She nods, though it doesn’t convince me. I tell her I’m going to get the coats.

She didn’t talk to me on the way down in the elevator. Of course, there were two men in there as well, talking quite frankly about a lewd practical joke they had planned for their associate.

I hailed a cab, but I didn’t know what I’d say once we got inside. Would she want to go home, to her place? She entered the cab first, giving him my address. Am I going home first? Her place is farthest away from here….

‘I’m sorry if I…’ I begin, facing her.

‘Shhhh,’ she says, looking out her window.

Silence the rest of the way. Well, except for the cb radio belonging to the cabbie. I never thought fifteen minutes could last so long.

We pull up to my apartment building, and she hastily hands the driver a twenty.

‘Happy New Year, sir,’ she says with a slight smile. ‘Be careful driving out there.’

‘Thank you, miss,’ he replies glancing at her warmly. ‘Have a good night.’

I exit the car first, standing as she gets out. She touches the tip of my nose lightly and I close the door. She begins walking up the steps to my building, not looking after me. I follow, key in hand, and open the door for her. We climb the two flights of stairs, again in silence. Her steps are deliberate, but not labored. At my door she stops, pausing for me to open it.

Inside, she takes off her heels. She’s always so good about removing her shoes right away. Some people you have to remind, but she got it from the first time. Being on the top floor, with hard wood floors, it’s just courtesy to respect the neighbors.

I walk in, remove my shoes, and go to place my keys on the ring. She comes up behind me. As she closes the door, her arms softly wrap around my waist. She begins kissing my neck. I can feel her warm breath, smell the martinis she’s had throughout the evening. My heart melts; I am relieved. Though this isn’t like her. I’ve always been the one to want to come back early…never her. Especially on such a big night.

‘Make us a drink, honey,’ she says, gliding her hand along my waist as she walks into the living room. I can hear her flipping through the cd case, turning on the stereo. She plays with the dial before all goes silent, and I hear her loading a disc. It’s a compilation she made me a while back. That red cd that she refused to label. I peek into the room, and see her looking out the window of the Victorian apartment, both hands on her back…an unlikely pose in that beautiful dress. She stretches, and I smile as I open a bottle of champagne. I sneak into the bathroom, stealing some sandalwood body oil. On the stove, I place a pot of water and bring it to a simmer, placing the bottle of oil carefully inside.

I enter the living room, where the lights are now off. I stand holding two champagne flutes and the chilled bottle of Moet. Her face appears in the corner as she lights one of several votive candles around the room. A blend of dancing shadows flicker in the room as she lights the various candles. She sits on the fouton, her back against the pillows, her feet taking up the length of it. I approach her, pouring a glass and handing it to her.

Glancing at her Omega, she argues that it’s not midnight yet, not the time for a toast. But then she smiles up at me, accepting silently. Pouring mine, I set it on the coffee table. She moves her legs up, indicating for me to sit. But I remember the oil in the kitchen and leave the room.

‘What are you doing?’ she calls.

‘I forgot something,’ I say, turning off the stove and pouring the now hot oil into a small crystal decanter. As I enter the living room, she has set her glass of champagne next to mine. Absentmindedly, she is rubbing her foot against a cushion of the fouton. I hold up the decanter, filled with the gold-tinged oil.

‘How about a massage?’ I offer.

She smiles, looking around her. ‘Here?’

I look to the bedroom door. ‘In there.’ My eyes return to hers.

Without a word, she rises and takes the champagne bottle and glasses into the bedroom. I follow with the oil, placing it on the table beside my queen-sized bed.

‘Don’t start without me,’ she says with a teasing glance as she walks into the bathroom.

I begin moving the candles from the living room into my bedroom, placing them at even intervals…on the window sill, the bookshelf, my desk, the small chest under the window, below the angled mirror in the corner. I pull back the duvet, the clean, off-white damask sheets taking on the shadows of the warm candlelight. Even the Meidner print above the bed takes on a romantic persona. Several pillows are at the head of the bed, covering part of the antique iron frame. I’ve changed into a t-shirt and boxers by the time she enters the room--wearing only a towel.

‘So sexy,’ she says sarcastically, tugging on my faded grey Cal shirt. I’m seated on the bed and she stands before me. Pulling her close, I kiss the towel covering her tummy. As I tug on the towel, she resists.

‘That’s a bit unfair. I wear nothing and you’re all sporty like this?’

I look up at her then pull my shirt up and over my head. It falls to the floor beside her. Lying back, I slip out of my boxers. Then sitting up, I look up at her once again.

‘Your turn now.’

She kneels onto the bed, making her way toward the middle. Facing away from me, she removes the towel. The shadows dance along the definition in her back, making her caramel skin look an even softer, deeper shade. I get up on my knees behind her, rubbing her shoulders lightly with my hands. I smell her perfume and shampoo in her hair. Kissing her neck, I catch a glimpse of her in the full length-mirror in the corner of the room. She is watching me. I continue kissing her, my head nuzzling into her neck as my hands wrap around her bare waist. The music from the other room wanders in, justifying the seductive movement of my fingers along her tummy, her lower back.

I pull her back between my body and the pillows at the head of the bed, kissing her mouth softly. My legs are spread, and I lean my head down to kiss her, stroking her face. She returns the kiss briefly, then her mouth stops moving.

‘What about my massage?’ she asks, looking back at me, running a finger along my cheek.

‘I haven’t forgotten,’ I say, reaching over for the oil, which by now has cooled down to a warm temperature. Her head slightly turned, I continue kissing her soft mouth, our tongues lingering and teasing one another. Moving along her jaw, I kiss softly down to her neck. I can feel her begin to relax now, settling against me, against the mattress beneath us. I can feel the small of her back resting against my pussy.

Carefully, while I kiss her, I start to drizzle the oil gently between her breasts. She moans from the warm sensation, feeling it trickle down her cleavage, along her tummy. The fingers of my free hand move across her tummy, smearing the oil, making new intersections as they trace her smooth skin. Her eyes close and her moans deepen as I rub the oil into her skin. I then hold the carafe above her breast, letting the oil fall drop by drop around her erect nipple. Kissing into her neck, I repeat this on her other breast. The heat of the oil and the light scent of sandalwood penetrate her body through my fingertips. My hands run firmly along her sides, up over her breasts. We kiss hard as I knead her flesh with my eager hands. My pussy is starting to get wet from hearing her moan, feeling her body’s reaction to my touch.

I move my body beside hers, my hand caressing her tummy still. My tongue teases the tips of her erect nipples, free of oil. I feel them harden even more at the flickering of my playful tongue. Positioning myself between her legs now, I caress both breasts. Rubbing my cheek along her tummy, I move down. I trace her navel lightly with my fingertip, dipping inside briefly, spilling the tiny pool of oil that has trickled inside. My fingers take this trail and rub it into her hips, along her outer thighs. She is moving up against the pillows of the bed, off to a diagonal, so I may lay comfortably between her legs.

The oil of my cheeks rubs off on her thighs, which are spreading readily for me. Her gaping pussy is inches from my mouth. The heat from her sex and the oil, combined with their respective scents drives me wild. I am aching to taste her. Her moans and movements are guiding me toward her. My arms and hands, now covered in oil, envelop her thighs as I center my mouth between her legs. As I rub into her outer thighs, the tip of my tongue trails lightly along her tender perineum. My tongue dabbles back and forth, her slick softness growing warmer and wetter with each stroke.

I look up at her from this wonderful view, and she is staring at me with silent anticipation. Her skin is aglow with the slick patina of the oil, her erect nipples a clear indication of her excitement. I place my hands on her breasts. As she covers them with her long fingers, I part her lips with my tongue. The oil has made her body soft and slick, much like the inside of her hot pussy. My tongue steadily delves deeper into her, my senses blurring in the ecstasy of her taste and the scents of her skin, her sex. My nose nuzzles into her damp pubic hair, tongue curling up into her. She arches her back as I push deeper, curl tighter. Subconsciously I am fucking her to the rhythm of this music, this sensual beat. Our hands and fingers interlock with the flesh of her breasts, my head nodding steadily between her legs as her hips move up into my mouth.

My nose on her clit isn’t enough, as I feel her trying to move down. Placing my hands firmly on her slippery hips, my tongue circles rapidly around her clit. I rub her labia with my chin and lower lip while my tongue lashes at her swollen clit. Her body writhes as she climaxes, her hands gripping the iron headboard through the pillows.

With a loud moan she cums hard into my mouth, her legs locking around my head. My tongue pushes inside softly, remaining to feel her throb and shake in orgasm. Her breathing is audible, her sighs heavy and lustful. I kiss her softly, expecting to curl up against her, feel her body relax.

But she surprises me as she pulls me up to kiss her, almost raking my back with her short nails as she drags my body on top of hers, locking her legs around me. Her oily fingertips run through my hair as we kiss, her lips hungrily sucking mine. She pushes me up and back slightly as she reaches for the oil.

‘Turn around so I can see you,’ she says softly into my ear.

I turn, my back to her, our figures seen perfectly at this angle in the corner mirror. She pushes my back away from her, and I start to lie down.

‘No,’ she says. ‘On all fours.’

I smile at her in the mirror, her dark eyes following some intricate plan. A moment later I feel the warm oil along my back. She puts the decanter down and her hands are on me, rubbing into my shoulders, my back, my ass, the backs of my thighs. She gives me a light spank, smiling devilishly at me in the mirror.

At first I giggle, but then moan as her warm hand moves between my legs from behind. She is rubbing my inner thighs, and staring at me in the mirror. The music has picked up pace slightly, and her movements follow. I feel her hand on my now wet pussy…at first applying a light pressure. Then I feel the gentle rubbing of her fingers. Still on all fours, I part my legs as much as I can. Immediately I feel her middle finger part my lips, working its way inside. I moan louder, feeling it enter me. I look at her in the mirror and she is still watching. I feel her index finger join the middle as she penetrates me. Moaning louder, I hold as still as I can while she fucks me faster with these two fingers. Looking back, I see her hand moving rapidly between my legs. I can hear how wet I am by her movements.

I cry out as she adds a third finger, stretching me with that painful pleasure. My body is moving with her thrusts now, which have become strong and slow. She removes this third finger, still keeping the steady, slow pace with the two inside me. My pussy tightens onto her fingers as she curls them up and into me. In the mirror, she is directly behind me now, and it appears as if she’s really fucking me. As I see this, I feel the climax grow in intensity and her smile broadens. Her dark nipples are still hard, and I think of their feel on my tongue.