Meeting Me at the Ritz

But tonight it was holding hands. When we took each other's hand I squeezed just a little more than usual. It was a subtle signal. There was no pain involved, just recognition between the two of us. No one else would have noticed, but you knew, and I knew now that you knew, that you'd lingered too long, and that there would be consequences...

Part 8

We returned to the ball room and danced slowly to the song that was being played. Your head on my chest and shoulder, an arm around each other's back, and the hands which were holding one another tucked in close, you pulling my hand and arm as close to me as possible as if to say "I know, and I'm sorry." We'd not said a word since leaving the restrooms and yet it was often times like this, when no words were spoken, that we were closest, as if our energies, your yin to my yang, were in perfect alignment and we were one.

The song ended and we returned to the end of the bar where Thomas had left as well as another couple of prospective clients who had already told me that they had pressing engagements for dinner. This left only you, me, and the Reverend Jerome DuToit, a powerfully built, and well connected black minister from the Newtown District of Sarasota, and his wife, another Michelle.

Michelle was, like her husband, dressed to kill. One of those black women who were very proud of their bodies, hers was one which was exaggerated everywhere. Large hips, an almost wasp like waist, and bosoms which looked like they could nurse whole villages of children. So, while you were incredibly sexy in your suit and more than a bit vampish with the plunging neckline and chain, she never considered you 'competition'. Her world was hers and she knew it.

I'd asked the Reverend to join us today since I was working on creating a partnership with a black entrepreneur with whom I wanted an introduction. His business was one of managing young athletes and he'd made a small name for himself as such and his star was definitely one which was rising. I knew the program at the Ritz that day would be one that the Reverend would appreciate and felt that this time after the presentation would be a good time to get his approval and help.

I had told you before about this opportunity and how much of a difference it would make to my business.... our business, since, after you moved down from Connecticut, you considered yourself a part of my life in every aspect and felt that you were truly a partner in this and every other area.

When you sat down it was next to Michelle and the two of you chatted quietly facing the bar while the Reverend Jerome and I 'bonded'.

"You're so pretty honey!" Michelle said to you, "I just love your red hair, and your eyes are to die for. God, sometimes I wish I were born a white woman. I'd work that body.. mmmm, mmm."

"Now don't go gettin me wrong, honey, I LOVE being black. It's just sometimes I'd love to try the other side of the track. You know what I mean Honey?"

You smiled a smile that said it all. Here's a woman you could relate to. Out there, straight, blatant and in your face open. Yes m'aam. Here was a woman to be dealt with. Strong and magnetic. And then when she put her hand on your leg where your skirt had opened up baring the firm flesh of your thigh just above the hose when she talked to you, you shivered just a touch.

"I've always wondered, Honey. On a redhead like you, does the carpet match the drapes, or do the shades not match? You can tell me Honey, I won't tell a soul."

"Oh my God. Did she really ask me that?" The thought raced through your head and, without censuring yourself, before you knew it you replied... "Well, if this skirt rides up any further, you'll know the answer for yourself!"

"Now wouldn't that be something?" she said as her hand slipped further up your leg moving the skirt up with it. Facing her slightly you uncrossed your legs and then it happened. Your skirt was nothing more than a drape on the sides of your body hanging freely completely exposing you in front, but with only one person who could see. Michelle and you were on the corner of the bar she just to your left and both of you facing the bar itself. "Mmmm, mmm. Now isn't that pretty!"

"Do you mind if I touch that?"

You breathed in deeply as she was closer to 'her' than any woman had ever been. Her right pinky grazing the flame red of your neatly trimmed pubic hair. And the thought raced through your head again... "Oh, my God! This can't be happening. So much has happened already tonight." And you were wet. So very, very wet. You couldn't even answer, just lowered your head in a sign of submission and looking up at her with your amazingly beautiful eyes. Touching your tongue to your upper teeth and lip lightly, a small nod was all she needed and her hand slipped between your legs now opened even more. Not obscenely so, but enough to allow access. "Oh." Your body tightened as she cupped 'her' and tensed even more as her finger slid up and down slipping just a touch inside of you.

Your body straightened up, erect. Your eyes wide open, searching her face for some sort of sign. Something that would tell you what was going on. Only she just looked at you and her finger worked back and forth. Your legs involuntarily squeezed together holding her there as you had yet another intense orgasm. "Oh.... oh...ohhhh."

Her hand stayed there for as you were squeezing her so tightly that there was no way it could move. Your body shuddered, and again it shuddered, and again.

"Was that good, Honey?" Michelle asked as your grip loosened and she pulled her hand away.

It took you a moment before you could answer. "I never....." and couldn't finish the sentence.

"Tha's alright, Honey. You just take a moment and we'll chat."

You took a moment, closed your eyes and breathed deeply. In that short moment you relived the entire experience. Her hand on your thigh, the blackness of her hand contrasting with the tan you'd applied that morning yourself. The amazement that it was a woman touching your leg and your thoughts freezing in the moment when she asked her question "Do you mind if I touch that?" It seemed like that question hung in your mind forever, repeating itself over and over "Do you mind if I touch that?" And then the touch. The grazing next to 'her' and the tingling feeling both between your legs and the tightening of the rest of your body. And then the rest. Her hand holding 'her' her finger sliding first to feel the wetness and then to press into you, the pressure perfect for your orgasm. Your legs clamped tightly around her hand not allowing her to take it away, her finger jammed into you as your legs literally pulled her even closer. All of that in just the moment your eyes were closed. And then you relaxed having shuddered once more.

"I'm OK now."

"Thank you.... for everything."