Vanessa's nipples were tingling and she knew that looking at Tom had made them that way. Her body was telling her how much she wanted him. Her breasts felt warm and full, and her cheeks had a hint of blush. A sense of anticipation stirred in her tummy. Wanting to feel his flesh against hers, a warm sensation emanated from between her legs. Her breath was measured and controlled, an attempt to remain calm. Still when she inhaled her hard nipples brushed against her soft, black lace bra, intensifying her desire. It was as though a mild electric current were running through her. She wanted to touch him and to be touched by him.
She knew she was desirable. Her long black hair was pulled to one side, exposing her graceful neck adorned by a delicate, understated gold necklace. Eyes the color of ebony with flecks of amber complemented her alabaster skin. Bright red, full lips, slightly parted in a gentle smile invited kisses. Full breasts above a narrow and tapered waist, blossoming into suggestive hips, were showcased by her form-fitting black silk dress. Long shapely legs, accented by expensive platform heels, were the final touch. Her bright red toenails peeking out of the open toe accented her femininity. Few men could resist looking at her, and she enjoyed that. In fact, she encouraged it. All except Tom looked.
Vanessa's eye had been on him ever since she arrived at the reception. Tom, leaning against a wall and holding a glass of red wine across the room, immediately projected ease and comfort. Talking with two gorgeous women and a gentleman old enough to be their father, Vanessa discerned from his easy smile and gentle laugh that he enjoyed people and was self-confident. Why shouldn't he be? Six foot, surfer-boy blonde, and solid in musculature he cut a pretty picture in his Ralph Lauren tux. The healthy tan and rugged face added to the image. His hands were angular and strong as he grasped the delicate crystal glass -- probably spent time outdoors. She thought he looked like a cross between a young Harrison Ford and Brad Pitt.
Although she had not wanted to attend tonight's opening reception for an up and coming Romanian artist named Vlad Rochenko, she was beginning to think this might just turn out to be an interesting evening. Christina, her friend and owner of the gallery, INNOVATIONS, had encouraged her to come, saying there would be many interesting and attractive people attending. Vanessa remembered how boring these events could be and tried to beg off. Christina would not hear of it. Reluctantly she acquiesced. And indeed there was someone very interesting.
Hurrying home from her job as an editor for "Art Scene," she had quickly changed out of her Vera Wang suit. Uncharacteristic for her, she felt a need to wear fresh lingerie and chose a light filmy black lace bra and panties. The black silk, knee length dress with a cut that discretely displayed her cleavage appealed to her. Sheer black stockings and open toed pumps, her favorites, completed the ensemble. She felt good about her appearance but not spectacular. She knew she was beautiful but would never openly admit it to herself. People often told her that she looked like Catherine Zeta-Jones with more sex appeal. She knew that couldn't be all bad.
It did not take long for her to feel the furtive and incessant stares and peeks that she was used to. But Tom never looked her way. Not one man in the room had failed to acknowledge her, except Tom. Perhaps he was gay. Even so he should at least look at her.
She could feel his energy. Why couldn't he feel hers? Was all that pheromone stuff, just idle speculation by scientists?
As she sipped the cool champagne with her warm lips, she thought, "Where will this night end up?"