In The Dark

Slowly, as if descending from clouds, they relaxed together.

Sandra let out a final shuddering sigh, her rear muscles squeezing one more time. She heard her dark lover gasp and felt him jump at the sudden pressure. The cock slowly relaxed and subsided, still buried in her ass. The deflating feeling was another strange sensation to Sandra, who could not suppress a giggle. The squirmy sensation caused more reflexive squeezing and the softening cock was slowly pushed out. The big hands now slid around her body once more, right resting on her belly, left between her breasts as he held her gently against him. His head still rested on her shoulder. She turned hers toward it and their lips found each other in the darkness.

Their first kiss, through stray strands of her hair was passionate and wondrous - like everything else this night. Sandra detected her own intimate taste on his lips, and scent on his face, mixed with his faint, spicy cologne. The kiss lasted for a long time, barely broken by Sandra drawing her hair away and turning to face her lover for the fist time. Her arms encircled his broad shirted torso, as his enveloped her smaller frame and allowed her dress to fall fully back into place.

Slowly, she became again aware of the world around her. The beat of music outside their small, dark world rolled on. Her breathing was normal. She was kissing and holding a complete stranger - one who had showed her things about herself she would never forget. One who had changed her. Finally she broke their kiss and leaned back against the sink. She could make out a little more of his face. It was handsome. She found she wanted to see more.

"Thank you." She whispered.

His hands ran up and down her arms, one cupped her chin. "No, Sandra. Thank you."

They stared into each other's shadowy eyes for a minute. A small smile on both their lips, a searching expression on Sandra's face.

He released her then, and she heard more than saw him draw his pants up his legs and fasten them.

"Who are you?" She finally asked. The question had been trying to surface for the last moments.

"Do you really want to know?"

"Yes... No! Wait! Ah!"

But he was gone. Just like he had appeared, he disappeared from the small room in a second, unlocking, and slipping out the door in a fluid motion, flipping the light on as he left and momentarily blinding Sandra. She almost ran after him there and then, but stopped herself after the first step reminded her that her slick pussy was bare under her short dress. As her eyes adjusted to the light, she saw her thighs glistened with her own cream, and the liquid sensation in her ass betrayed a small leak of the stranger's cum from there. She couldn't leave the room like that.

Sandra stepped to the door and locked it - correctly this time. She realized with a chuckle that turning it right, as she had when she came in, did not in fact cause the lock to catch. Turning it left, as she did now, did. If she had been paying attention - she looked at her watch and gasped - almost two hours ago! - this whole...event... would never have happened.

Sandra used the facilities, and cleaned and collected herself, in a slight daze. Her panties were unsurprisingly dry now, having been off for so long, and serviceable enough, thanks to the relatively clean nature of this less trafficked bathroom. She put them back on and looked at herself in the mirror for a short time - not bothering with makeup other than to clean up obvious streaks or smears. As she reached down for her tiny purse, her hand almost knocked the small card off the sink. It was business card size, but all it had on it was a handwritten phone number.

She smiled to her reflection. She felt alive, adventurous. She was the same as before, yet also somehow new. Somehow free.

She took a deep breath and left the small side bathroom, squinting into the blasting sound and flashing lights of the dance floor. She walked slowly around the periphery, between the tables one more time. She was tired and going home (home?) but wanted to look around one more time. Maybe she would see him. Maybe he would see her. Maybe others would look at her and recognize what she was, now. She was surprised that she hoped it showed that much.

Near the exit she might have seen him. He was the right size, and his face might have been the same one she had almost seen in the darkness. Their eyes met for an instant, then drifted apart. Recognition? Something else? She could not tell. Sandra left.

The taxi ride to her apartment was uneventful, and she spent it thinking about her life, per present and future. When she stepped into the apartment, she saw Phillip on the couch sleeping in the glow of a late night TV movie. Quietly, she passed into the bedroom, undressed and slipped into bed. Then she got up, donned her seldom-used full pajamas and got back in.

Tomorrow, She and Phillip were going to talk about who was keeping the apartment. It wasn't going to be him. Tomorrow, she would also be making a phone call. Maybe.