Midnight Blue

We sat back, his eyes never leaving mine, not for an instant.

"Well that's nice to hear. What brought you to town?"

"Who. Who brought me to town is the more appropriate question. Margo Hamilton and I went to grad school, and she thought I might set up a practice in town."

"Ah, Margo. I should have guessed. And practice, you're a professional?"

"Marriage and family therapist."

"Ahhh. And where is Mr. Cassandra?"

"No Mr. Cassandra. Almost, a few years ago, but it didn't work out."

"I am truly sorry."

"And Mrs. Simpson."

"Yes, there once was. I was young. She was unfaithful. It wasn't a good recipe for lasting love."

"And no Mrs. Simpson since?"

"A couple of close calls, but no."

As we sipped our wine glasses, a cadre of men came into the bar.

"Can you turn on the TV for us, we want to catch the second half," a voice was heard to say.

"Well, if those women saw you in that tux, I am sure they'd be sorry they didn't make the cut."

"That's getting dangerously close to feeding me a line."

"Ah, I call them like I see them, too."

"Touche. But I will counter...with a dress like that, I guarantee you there are men who if they could see you now would be kicking themselves."

"The truth be told, I borrowed this from Margo."

"Wow, I'm even more impressed. Might I have a little better look at it?"

I was puzzled. Whatever did he mean? I must have shown my confusion because he clarified.

"Could I trouble you to just stand up for a moment, so I can have a good look?"

I thought for a moment, and all I could think was, what the heck? I stood up slowly, smoothing out the dress as I did, then bending my knees slightly in a mock model pose.

"The other side."

I shot a look at him. Really?

"Please?"

Well, at least he's polite. And I turned around, giving him a great view of my backside. Not one to miss an opportunity, I thrust out my butt, just for laughs.

"Very funny," he said. "But seriously, that's a great dress, but even better, it's a great dress on you."

Okay, that was a good line. And line or not, it made me feel attractive and wanted.

We continued to chat for a while, nothing to deep or heavy, but a real conversation. It was the first time in quite a while that I had a conversation with a man who appeared to be attracted to me, and to whom I was attracted.

The ball game fans were getting louder and louder, in what sounded like a close game. They shouted as someone scored, and I winced at the loudness of it.

"Cassie, I would really like to spend some more time with you this evening, but this bar doesn't seem to have the right, ah, ambiance. Would you care to continue our conversation, maybe elsewhere?"

"Oh, I came with Margo." What an idiot I am...why did I say that?

"Oh, I am sure she won't mind."

"Where did you have in mind?"

"Just give me five minutes. I'll be right back."

And with that, he vanished. I sat quietly by the table, wondering what I was doing. I went to a ball I didn't want to go to, with a man I wasn't expecting to meet, then made out with that man just an hour after I met him, and now bailing on the ball to have quiet drink with him.

I couldn't figure out what it was that attracted me to him, but I was mesmerized. Sure he was good looking, but it was more than that. This guy just had my mark. It was his looks, his smile, his eyes, his smell, his body, his laugh, his voice-it was the whole package.

I sipped my drink, wondering what he was doing, and the truth be told, I wondered if he would come back. I'm a little phobic about being stood up, so my anxiety started to climb.

I began to reach down for my clutch, figuring I'd check my cell phone for the time. Five minutes, maybe seven, but no more. That's all I'm waiting!

Just then I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"Did you miss me?" he asked, smiling as he sat down with me once again.

"I did."

"Well, I sensed you wanted it a bit quieter. So I arranged for a little quiet for us. Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah, but let me find Margo."

"Already took care of that." He pointed through the crowd. Margo was looking right at us, smiling. As Jimmy turned away she flashed a thumbs up, which I had to brush away from the distance."

"Where are we going?"

"Not far."

With that, we headed out of the bar. I felt his hand on the small of my back, gently guiding me along the way. Where were we going? Was I acting irrationally? I hadn't spent more than a few minutes privately with a man in more than two years, and here I'm leaving with a man I've only just met.

We headed for the revolving doors that lead from the lobby to the front. As we got close, he stepped in closer to me, and I could smell his cologne. His arm wrapped around my shoulder, and we pushed the revolving door around. As we hit the opening, he just kept walking, but not toward the street. He kept waking in the circle of the revolving door. I looked up, puzzled.

"Trust me," he said.

I guess I had no choice. And a moment later we were walking right back into the lobby. I could hear him snicker.

"Did you forget something back at the ball?" I asked.

"Nope."

We veered left, and quickly approached the elevator. A young man stood at the door and greeted us as we stepped on.

"Twelfth floor, please."

"Very good, sir."

With someone else in the elevator, I felt uncomfortable asking where we were going. I glanced at the elevator buttons, and the twelfth floor was the top, the penthouse. I swallowed, but had nothing to swallow, and I was afraid it was the loudest swallow sound ever.

The doors finally opened, and we walked down the hall.

"Ah, here we are. 1205. That's us."

He slid the plastic key through the swipe, and the green light lit up.

"Cassie, don't read more into this. I put up clients here, so I get rooms cheap. I thought it would be nice spend a little time getting to know you, apart from all that craziness. I've got no expectations other than extending our enjoyable evening a little longer. As soon as you want to go home, just say the word and I'll take you."

"Thank you James, nice to know gentlemen still exist."

He smiled.

As we walked in, I realized it was a suite, a beautiful grand suite. The furniture was antique, rich in deep, brown wooden hues and burgundy fabrics trimmed in gold.

There was a fire already started in the fireplace, casting a combination of warmth in temperature and warmth in ambiance. I dropped my wrap on the end table and walked slowly around the beautiful sitting room.

"Can I pour you a glass?" said Jimmy. From what? There was a bottle of champagne ready and waiting. Of course.

"Sure. I guess one more wouldn't hurt."

As I heard the cork pop from the bottle, I made my way to balcony doors. I reached for the polished brass knob, and muttered, "Think I'll get a little fresh air."

It was brisk, but refreshing to take in the chilly evening air. As I breathed slowly in and out, I felt my chest rise and fall, and I rolled my shoulders back to relax.

Jimmy came out with a two flutes of champagne, handing me one of them.

"Thank you," I said quietly, smiling at him.

"To the most beautiful woman at the ball," he said, raising the glass in a toast.

"My father always taught me to take the compliment with grace, so I'll say thank you. But there were a lot of women tonight-."

Jimmy held his finger up to my mouth. "Just take the compliment. It's not a line. I meant it."

I smiled, and turned to look at the nighttime city skyline, half to take in the beauty, have to hide the blush I was sure was showing on my face. It was a beautiful night, with buildings lit up in sparkly lights casting geometric shadows on the old concrete structures as well as the new mirror surfaced high rises.

"It's beautiful," I offered.

"It is," said Jimmy. "There are a lot of beautiful places in this world, but a few years ago I realized we had our own beauty right here in our own downtown. That's my building right over there," he said pointing to a mid-sized building, with a garden atop its roof. "My condo is on the fourth floor, on the opposite side,"

I glanced down to take another sip of champagne when I noticed it. It definitely was chilly, and through my sheer lace bra and delicate taffeta, my nipples where hard as could be. I quickly raised my other arm in front of my, in sort of a double fisted maneuver so it wasn't so obvious. My wrap was back inside, and Jimmy was between me and the door.

Honestly, I don't care that much, it's just something that happens. But in my years of exile, I just learned that modesty keeps the suitors at a greater distance, and I really didn't want to invite anyone in. It was now habit.

I'm not sure if maybe the effects of the champagne were kicking in or not, though I felt very clear headed, but a certain boldness seemed to set in. And I thought, what the heck. I sipped the glass, but then lowered my arms. Jimmy would see me in all my chilly glory. Oh well. I turned to face him.

He had one leg on a small ledge as he, too, looked out on the skyline. He turned to look at me, my eyes trained on his waiting to see his reaction. And shockingly, there was none. His eyes, once locked on mine, never left. Not even the slightest glance down at my chest. I thought to myself that this guy was either gay, or the coolest guy I had ever met. I wasn't sure if I wanted to date him, sleep with him, or marry him, but I knew one thing for sure: I felt for him like I hadn't felt for a man in years.

Still feeling somewhat bold, I reached my hand up and placed it behind his neck, pulling him down to me. I tilted my chin upward, as he was still somewhat taller than me despite my four-inch heels. And I closed my eyes and planted my lips gently on his.

It wasn't a long kiss, but it was a great kiss, my lower lip gently rolling up from under his, finding the perfect fit as I tilted my head slightly to the side.

"Mmm," came from deep within me, almost like a cat's purr.

"That was very nice," said Jimmy. "But let me try this." And he took my glass and his and put them on the small table to the side of the balcony. He reached his hands to my waist, one on either side, and then slowly moved them around to my lower back. Instinctively I drew closer, first from my hips, then down to my feet as I stepped a bit closer, and my head, leaning once again upward toward his soft and sensual smile. I allowed my right leg to go just a little further, which allowed him to do the same, and we pressed our thighs just a bit closer to each other.

He leaned in, and we kissed, only this time a much deeper, wetter kiss. I could feel his mouth open slightly, and I let my tongue slip just inside his upper lip in almost a tease of entry, then withdrawing back.

I could taste the sweet taste of champagne in his mouth, and could smell the ever so slightly remaining musk of a delightful cologne. My senses, from the touching of our thighs, to his hands on my back, to his chest against mine, to his the silky smoothness of his kiss, were simply on overload. I caught myself silently asking if I was doing the right thing, and hearing Margo saying, "Just shut up and enjoy the ride."

I'm not sure how or when I came up for air, because we seemed to kiss for the longest time. When I was in middle and high school, kissing was fun. It was the first taboo we teenagers broke. In college most of my friends hooked up with boyfriends, and the sex began, but unfortunately the kissing suffered.

This was kissing. Real kissing. Deep kissing.

As we slowly let our lips pull back, I barely opened my eyes, and I could see Jimmy's smile even wider than before. As we pulled back even further, his eyes slowly moved down from my, and I could tell he was looking at my lips.

"I haven't kissed like that in a long time," he said in a low, heavily breathed voice.

His eyes kept on their downward turn, taking in my shoulders, my chest, my waist, and my legs.

"You must be cold," he said. Shall we take our champagne inside?"

And it hit me. I closed my eyes and smiled a guilty smile. Opening my eyes again as I looked downward, I saw what I had guessed prompted his comment, my erect nipples.

"Whatever made you say that" I said in a joking tone.

"Just a hunch. Come on, let's go inside and warm up."

I took a deep breath as took my hand and led me inside. I sipped my glass, which was nearing empty. We walked up to sofa, which was positioned directly in front of the fire, and he guided me to sit down. Taking my glass, he reached over for the bottle that was lying in the ice bucket. Topping off the glass, he reached behind it, and grabbed a small tray of fruit. Handing me the glass, he presented the tray in front of me, and I reached for a big juicy strawberry.

"Oh, my," I quipped.

He snatched a couple of grapes and popped them in his mouth as he set the tray down and reached for his own glass. A moment later he was next to me on the sofa.

"So tell me the truth, how often do you bring women up here?"

"The truth? That's a little embarrassing. The truth is, you're the first."

My eyebrows felt like they rose up to the top of my head.

"Really?"

"Does that change your opinion of me," he asked, quite sincerely.

I leaned over, putting my hand on the front of his chest, and kissed him sweetly on the lips.

"Yes it does," I whispered, "I like you even more."

We just looked at each other for a moment. No words. I could tell he was as surprised yet intrigued at being there with me as I was with him.

"Let me help with this," I said, and reached for his bow tie. It was loose, but I thought its job was over for the night. I tugged on the end slightly, and watched in unravel. I eased the loop out and let the two ends drop. I left my hand there for a moment, on his chest, then reach up with both hands to untie his collar button.

"There, you look a lot more relaxed."

He simply smiled. I took his smile as an invitation, and leaned forward once again, hiking up the lower part of my dress so I could lean into him. I grabbed the open collars of his shirt with both hands, and pulled myself in for another long, slow, sensuous kiss.

After a moment I pulled back slightly, enough so that our lips were apart, but close enough that we could feel each other's breath. With the dexterity of someone fluent in Braille, I unbuttoned the next three buttons on his shirt with my eyes closed. This time I smiled the big smile first, and as I opened my eyes he reciprocated with smile. I pulled back a bit further, pulling his shirt slightly more open. I was now me looking at his chest. It was broad and strong. There was just enough hair to run my fingers through, which I like to do, so I did. I saw that his chest was rather tan, so I knew he enjoyed time outdoors, and he certainly kept himself in shape.

He seemed to be enjoying me looking and stroking his chest as much as I enjoyed doing it.

I leaned in, but this time diverted my mouth towards his chest, placing my hand squarely on his pectoral muscle, and my lips next to my hand, and I began a long, slow kiss. Letting my tongue roam more freely, it made its way to his nipple, which I took into my mouth, kissing and sucking on it firmly.

"Mmmmmm," I let out again.

I picked up my glass, took a sip of champagne, and put the glass down again. I returned to his nipple, letting the champagne drip slowly out of my mouth, but quickly lapping it up as it ran down his chest, and making a wet spot on his shirt.

"I hope this tux is a rental," I said with a chuckle.

"I can always get a new one."

With my last boyfriend, I was rarely the instigator of lovemaking. When I was younger still, I never was. But this just seemed...fun. Somehow being thirty was different. And I wanted more.

I sat up, looked him in the eye, then turned my back to him. I wondered how long it would take before his said anything, or did anything. One second, two, three. How long would I have to count? And then I felt it.

There was a tug, ever so slightly, on the back of my dress. And then that most distinctive sound, that of a zipper unzipping. I closed my eyes, and let out an audible sigh.

I stood up, turned back around to face Jimmy, and slowly slid my arm and shoulder out of the top of the dress, then reached around and zipped the zipper even lower while gently holding the dress on with my other hand. I had always wanted to do this in front of a man, though I never thought it would be a man I only met a few hours ago. After finishing the zipper I stood up tall, as if at attention, then simply let go of the dress. It dropped quickly from the top, and hung up slightly on my waist. A slight shift of my hips, and a little help with my hand, and it dropped the rest of the way around my ankles. I gingerly stepped out from the pile of taffeta.

There I stood, in just a strapless bra, panties, and my favorite black heels. Again, as before, his eyes were locked on mine. As much as I wanted, yearned for his eyes to caress me, I loved that he could just look me in the eye.

Needing to break the silence, I said, "I guess I should ask you to take me home now." And while he didn't bust a gut, he did let out a chuckle.

Before he could move, I went back in. I bent my legs and slid into his lap. I curled myself up, making myself into a child-like position, while reaching my arms around him. I felt his arms wrap around me once again, and this time he squeezed my tightly. I thrust my mouth on his, with a reckless abandon I had not done before. As we French kissed he kept his one arm firmly around my back, while his other hand slowly stroked down my side to my hip and the curve of my butt. His hand came to the front of my thigh, with his thumb extending out, as if he was grabbing it momentarily. I gasped a small breath, and then resumed our kiss.

A minute? Five minutes? Fifty minutes? I am really not sure how long we were there, but it was incredible.

As we finished the seeming never ending kiss, I felt his hand in what seemed like perpetual motion, slow stroking my side, my hip, but ass, and my thigh. I mustered the strength to get up, and walked over to one of the two lamps, switching it off. The first provided ample light to see, but now in a much more pleasing mood.

I kicked off my heels, and came back over to Jimmy, who seemed quite happy just sitting back on the sofa. I finished untucking his shirt, and gently guided his arms out of their sleeves. With a bit of a bravado, I dropped it behind the sofa.

I sat there for a moment, wondered if he would make the next move. His eyes were hypnotic, as if commanding me to act. I reached behind my back, and unsnapped my bra. I wasn't sure how well he would do with hooks, but I really didn't want to wait. And just like the dress, I used one arm to hold the bra on just long enough to catch it falling with my other hand.

I was a late bloomer, one of those who was painfully flat in high school when I wished I had boobs, then developed a full bust just before heading off to college, when it seemed like that's all boys were interested in. Since my falling out with my boyfriend, I'd kept my chest pretty much under wraps, with high necks and blousy tops. Again, not that I was a prude, but I just didn't want the advances from ass holes who just want to see my tits.

In this case, I was the one controlling what I showed and when, or at least I thought I was, and I have to say I felt so empowered when I took off that bra.

"Does this change your opinion of me?" I asked, somewhat mocking his earlier question.

He just shook his head "no".

Jimmy leaned forward, reaching for me once again around the waist, only this time his large hands getting the small of my back as well as my butt. He pulled himself up so that he was now sitting upright. Slowly he leaned forward. I saw him close his eyes, and gently kiss my stomach. Again, I caught my breath for a moment, and forced myself to resume breathing.