She could barely contain herself as she entered the driveway of her small park-side home.
Her love was returning from a three-week business trip to Europe. They talked when they could while he was away, but he was usually so busy on such trips that conversations had to be rushed. This trip was no different, except that they usually made plans to do something special to celebrate his return, and this time he'd said nothing except the cryptic comment to be home by five o'clock that Friday afternoon.
She'd made up an excuse about a doctor's appointment to leave work early. She was far too distracted to get anything done anyway, and this would allow her a few extra minutes to relax and prepare herself for whatever he had in mind for the evening.
She got inside the house and immediately ran a warm bath. Just as she had finished undressing and tested the water with her toe, the doorbell rang. She hurriedly put on a thick terry robe, the feel of the rough but soft material on her naked skin, and her already heightened sensitivity from the anticipation of the night, brought her a warm feeling of security at the thought that he was now just on the other side of her front door. She dropped out of her daydream as she glanced at the clock, noting that it was only 3:45. She took a second to compose herself. Wrapping her robe tight around her body, she tied it in place as she approached the door.
There was still the thought - pleading from the back of her mind - that her love might be early, but it was silenced as she opened the door to see a man in the familiar brown uniform and hat holding a package and some sort of electronic clipboard device. He confirmed her name, asked her to sign his strange little device, then pushed some buttons and handed her the package. He thanked her and walked back down the cement walkway to his big square-ish delivery van parked in the street in front of her home. She glanced hopefully up and down the street for a moment, holding the package under one arm, before closing the door.
She rushed back to the bedroom and set the package out on the bed. It was about the size of a standard bed pillow, and weighed little. It was wrapped in plain brown paper with an address label showing her name, but no return address. She tore off the paper to find a box, like a large shirt box, onto which a folded note torn from a small steno notepad had been taped. She pulled the note off and unfolded it, immediately recognizing his handwriting. It was unsigned, but read:
Be ready promptly by 6.
Everything you will need for the evening
is contained in this package.
She looked again at the box lying on the bed. As she thought about what elegant evening gown or some other such article he'd selected just for her might be inside, she could feel her arousal growing, the terry of her robe suddenly becoming obvious against her nipples and small shiver of excitement ran down her spine.
In an instant, she decided she would take her bath and enjoy the suspense a little longer before opening her present. She had plenty of time until his stated deadline, so she took her time relaxing and imagining what elegant evening plans he had for them and what else the night might bring. She repeatedly had to resist the urge to begin touching herself under the warm suds. But she knew what he meant by his last instruction, so she abstained, frustrated as she was after three weeks without him.
Finishing her bath, she stepped out of the master bath into the sensation of the cool air from the ceiling fan. The breeze chilled and excited her still damp skin as she walked toward the bed. She again felt a shiver run down her spine to her legs, a mixture of the cold air on her flushed but clean skin and thoughts of her lover's plans.
She lifted the edges of the lid, tearing through the small bits of masking tape that held it in place, and lifted it to reveal something wrapped in plain, white tissue. She unfolded it carefully, immediately seeing a pair of high-heeled black pumps on top of some other folded articles. She lifted the shoes out and began laying the other articles out on the bed. There was a silvery-gray sheer silk blouse, the top button of which was several revealing inches below the collar. Beneath that, she found a dark gray skirt made from a thick and somewhat course wool, that at first glance looked shockingly short. There was also a pair of thigh-high black stockings – the kind with a band built in at the top to keep them in place without a garter – along with a black lace half-cup bra in her size and a small jewelry box which contained a silver chain necklace attached to a simple amber pendant. She laid the items out on top of the comforter and glanced back at his note which still lay open next to her evening attire. That was it? As she took in her predicament, a mixture of fear and warming excitement began to grow inside her. This was definitely not what she had in mind as she'd dreamed all day, but something else had suddenly taken hold of her imagination, and she could feel the warmth of it spreading through her body.
She returned to the bathroom and put on her robe and brushed her hair and applied some light make-up. Finished with that, she returned to her special wardrobe. She stood for a moment looking nervously at the items laid out on the bed. Could she really go out in public like this? What did he have in mind for her?
She pulled the skirt up her legs first, feeling the tingling sensation of the rough wool fabric on her skin, and acutely aware of it against the tops of her naked thighs and her hips and bottom once it was in place. It was very short – not even quite to mid-thigh. She then put on the bra, which lifted her breasts provocatively and pushed her nipples forward, uncovered. As she looked at herself in the mirror, she thought how she would feel naked in public dressed like this. She then pulled the sheer silk blouse on, realizing that the soft caress of the smooth fabric on her breasts made the outline of her nipples show prominently even through the dark fabric. The contrast of the feeling of the soft blouse on her shoulders and breasts with the rough wool on her legs and ass left her feeling especially exposed.
She next pulled on the stockings, they were just high enough that a band exposed skin on her thighs showed between the top edge of the stockings and the bottom hem of her revealing skirt. She put on the pumps last and went into the closet to take to look at herself in the full length mirror. She looked very sexy. But more than that, she looked very . . . sexual . . . and thinking of going out in public like this she imagined that she couldn't feel more exposed if she were completely naked.
She glanced up at the clock. Noticing it was now 5:45, her heart began to race and she wondered if she would be able to go through with whatever plans he had in store for her. She poured herself a glass of mint iced tea and anxiously paced the house as those last few minutes seemed like hours.
Finally, just moments before the glacial movement of the clock's minute hand brought her to six o'clock, she heard another ring from the front doorbell. She walked as fast as she could manage in the heels, her heart pounding in her chest, and feeling her face flush slightly as the feel of the wool sliding back and forth across her nakedness sent tingles through her body.
She looked through the small frosted glass pane in the center of the door and could just make out enough to see that it was a stranger dressed in some kind of formal uniform again. She hesitated for a moment, wondering what she'd look like to a stranger. She was always very proper about the way she dressed. She was thrilled by the feelings welling up in her, but at the same time horrified because it was so against how she usually presented herself in public. She took a deep breath and cracked the door open.
On her doorstep was an elderly gentleman in a gray jacket and matching pants wearing a chauffer's hat that bore the logo of a local company that provided private cars to business executives. He had a friendly face and a broad smile as he asked if she was ready to go. She noticed a black Mercedes parked in the driveway behind her own car as she fumbled for an answer to his question. At first she contemplated grabbing her purse, but she remembered how he had carefully underlined the word "everything" in his first note. She decided to trust him as she stepped out onto her porch and pulled the door shut behind her.
The driver politely gestured her toward the car as he strolled to open the passenger side rear door for her. If he was at all taken aback by how she was dressed, he showed none of it. She wondered about all the interesting things he'd undoubtedly seen driving businessmen around in private cars over the years. It occurred to her that her situation might be relatively tame by comparison. Nevertheless, she couldn't help but feel a growing mixture of embarrassment and excitement as she bowed and dropped into the back seat, twisting to avoid having her skirt ride up to show any more skin than it already was. Once in the car, there was no way to sit without her skirt riding up just inches below the growing moistness between her legs. The driver seemed to sense her discomfort and politely looked away as she finally situated herself in the back of the car.
As she sat into the deep but comfortable seat, the short skirt rode up so that she could feel the cool black leather upholstery against the backs of her thighs and even a little on her exposed buttocks. She shifted several times, tugging at the skirt to get more coverage, but quickly realized it was futile. Under the dome light, she noticed that her hardening nipples were clearly visible against the silk fabric of her top.
Taking his place at the wheel the driver questioningly stated "Lovely, evening we're having, eh, ma'am"?
"Yes, it is." She replied. An uncomfortable silence ensued in which she expected him to say something else, wondering what she would say if he asked her where she wanted him to driver her. Apparently he had already been told of her destination, however, as he said nothing, angling the car smoothly onto the interstate toward downtown. Finally she screwed up enough courage to ask if him if he knew where she was going, her voice trembling slightly as the words left her lips.
Again, if he was at all surprised by the question he did not show any of it. Instead replying in his comfortable and friendly style: "I was instructed to drive you to the Four Seasons Hotel, ma'am, and to make sure you arrive by six-thirty."
"Okay. Thanks." She timidly replied.
As she began thinking about why her love would have her so mysteriously taken to a hotel by private car, dressed as she was, the driver reached back over his shoulder to extend a white envelope to her. "I was also instructed to give this to you."
She took the envelope in silence. It had no markings on the outside. She ran her finger under the flap, carefully tearing it open and lifted out another piece of the same steno paper that had accompanied the package containing her revealing wardrobe. Unfolding it, she again found his familiar handwriting:
All necessary arrangements have been made.
Go to the restaurant on the 45th floor of the
hotel. Tell them you have a reservation for "Ms. Lambert" for 6:45.
Don't be late.
She folded the note and returned it to the envelope. She stared out the tinted windows at the cars heading the other way on the freeway, now utterly unable to imagine what she was in for tonight, and growing ever more excited by the mystery of it all. She could feel the moisture between her legs and again tried to adjust her skirt, hoping not to leave any embarrassing evidence on the leather beneath her.
The car finally pulled to a stop at the Four Seasons. "Just a moment, ma'am," the driver said as he got out and walked around the back of the car. He opened her door for her and extended his hand, again looking away to ease her discomfort. This was far worse than getting in. There were bellhops and well-dressed hotel patrons walking around the front doors of the hotel, and she was visible to at least a dozen people as she got out of the car. There was simply no way to get out without spreading her thighs for the quickest moment. She swallowed hard and moved as fast as she could, taking the driver's hand to help herself up quickly onto the sidewalk. As she stood up, she glanced around quickly to see if she could catch any sign on the surrounding faces that they had seen anything. She thought she saw a wry smile on a young man dressed in a sharp business suit walking with an older woman, but he quickly looked away the instant their eyes met.
She turned to the driver. "Thank you . . . ," she said, looking about her as though she had her purse with her so she could give him a tip.
As if reading her mind, he volunteered, "Don't worry, ma'am. Everything was taken care of in advance. Have a lovely evening." He bowed slightly, closed the car door behind her and walked back around to the driver's side.
She stood on the sidewalk, looking through the big revolving door into the elegant hotel lobby as it bustled with Friday night activity. Since she had left the house, the sun had almost gone down and the temperature had dropped. Almost immediately, the cool breeze turned the soft silk of her blouse cold against her nipples and she could feel it swirling up under her barely-there skirt, making her acutely aware of the dampness between her legs.
She felt her face flush red as she gathered her courage as best she could, and walked into the lobby.
She couldn't help but feel that everyone was staring at her, and undoubtedly some of them were. A few elderly ladies looked her up and down as she passed by wearing a disapproving scowl. Several men clearly were noticing her thighs, while others were watching her nipples, hardened even more beneath the cool, smooth silk and the chill of the night. She walked as quickly as she comfortably could in the heels, trying to block out the faces of the people around her and just get to the elevator.
She was in luck. There was nobody else waiting at the elevator. She breathed a sigh of relief as she considered that she would have a brief reprieve from her predicament. She pushed the "up" button and waited as it seemed to take forever for the elevator doors to open. She was repeating over and over in her head: please let me get on by myself . . . please let me get on by myself. The light came on with a ding and doors finally swooshed opened and she stepped into the elevator car. She pushed the "45" button at the top of the panel, and then looked down the rows of buttons frantically trying to find the "Close Door" button. Just as she felt a wave of relief from finding it, a well-dressed couple stepped into the car beside her. The elevator doors jumped slightly but stayed open as the sensor discovered the presence of her new traveling companions.
The woman, an attractive and fit brunette with her raven hair pulled back into a perfect bun and a dark blue, but very feminine, business suit glanced over, cool green eyes quickly taking in the appearance of her temporary car mate. The woman gave her a quick, knowing smile that disappeared again just as fast as it had appeared.
Pushing the button again with more force, she self-consciously tugged at the hem of her skirt to cover herself a little more, and shuffled her feet to the back of the car behind the couple where she could ride unseen. Just as the doors were inches from closing, a hand snaked in between them, causing them to stop and re-open. A handsome and familiar face appeared as the gap between the doors widened. She immediately recognized those piercing blue eyes, and she felt her whole face smile and a wave of relief move through her.
But he acted as though he didn't recognize her at all. Unsmiling he stepped into the elevator car, and positioned himself in front where she stood at the back of the car between her and the other couple, saying nothing to her, but nodding momentarily at the other man as he entered before turning his back to her.
As the doors shut and she felt the elevator begin to pitch slightly upward, they were all four of them staring silently toward the doors, when suddenly he stepped back toward her and reaching behind his back so it couldn't be seen by the other two passengers, he flipped the hem of her skirt up and slid his fingers underneath, tickling the skin on her inner thigh and at the edge of her moistening sex.
She couldn't help but emit a small gasp. She though she sensed the other woman in the car flinch slightly at the noise, but couldn't tell as she made no other movement.
He began very lightly sliding his fingertips up her lips. As he reached the top, the tips of his fingers felt like a feather grazing the tip of her swelling clit. She felt a jolt of electricity run down her legs and her thighs began to tremble slightly. She bit her lip to keep from gasping again, and reached back to try to steady herself on the rail at the back of elevator car, feeling her knees threaten to buckle under her.
He withdrew his hand suddenly, letting the skirt hem fall back into place, just as the red LED sign read "45" and the doors parted revealing the entryway to the fine restaurant and bar at the top of the hotel. The other couple stepped out and, without a word or a glance, so did her love, leaving her to gather her legs under her. She barely got through the door before it started to close again.
She watched him stroll, without looking back, over to the bar, where he greeted and shook hands with two smiling men, one of whom gestured for him to sit on stool with them at the high bar table. She watched him, trying to figure out what he expected of her, but he did not cast even a glance in her direction, as though she were not even there.
"Excuse me, ma'am . . . may I help you?" came the voice of the hostess, interrupting her befuddled stare, and bringing her back into her surroundings. "Do you have a reservation or are you here with another party?"
She stammered for a moment, about to say that she was here with a party, when she suddenly became aware of the folded envelope she still held in her hand. Suddenly remembering her instructions, she said, "Ummm . . . I have a reservation for Ms. Lambert."
Looking down her reservation book, the hostess replied, "Ah, yes. Lambert. Party of one. Thank you for joining us this evening, Ms. Lambert. Elisa will show you to your table." With that she gestured to another hostess – an attractive Hispanic girl who looked to be in her mid-twenties with her long dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. She could see Elisa's gaze jump from the erect nipples poking through the silvery blouse before the young hostess made eye contact and flashed a broad smile just at the moment their gaze met. Again she felt a flush of embarrassment that must have shown on her face.
"Right this way, Ms. Lambert. Your table is ready."
Again she felt all eyes were on her as she strolled across the restaurant, her buttocks barely covered by the wool fabric that brushed roughly against her naked skin.
She waited a few minutes before her young male waiter arrived and explained that her meal had been ordered in advance. He carried a wine chiller on a stand with a bottle of Cakebread chardonnay, mist still wafting slightly from the top of the freshly-opened bottle into the warm air. He set out a wine glass and poured a small amount into the bottom for her, then waited expectantly.
She took a sip, the soothing wine cooling and relaxing her. She smiled at her waiter, feeling somewhat at ease for the first time in two hours. "This is fine, thank you." He poured the rest of her glass and informed her that her meal would be out shortly, then replaced the bottle in the chiller and walked off toward the kitchen.