Only a Touch

It was already dark when she arrived at the restaurant, handing the keys over to the valet absentmindedly. Aptly attired in a blue uniform trimmed in gold, the young man thanked her politely and handed back a blue ticket, which she slipped into the pocket of a small black handbag as she passed through the glass doorway.

He saw her immediately, watching from his table. She wore a classic black sheath dress, fitted perfectly and split at one side almost to her thigh. Shiny black patent leather high heels, elaborately designed with several thin straps wrapped around her ankles, accenting the smooth legs underneath. Her hair was loosely swinging from her shoulders as she walked, a textured blend of chestnut, pecan and redwood, with a touch of gold that - like a kiss of sunshine among trees – caught the light of the chandeliers hanging from above.

The two knew each other intimately through an unusual exchange of events, but had rarely spoken, and had no communication on any regular basis. In fact, their encounters had been spontaneous, with the exception of one particular gathering she invited him to… but each had definitely been a memorable experience.

As she approached, he stood up in greeting as the waiter pulled the chair to seat her. She smiled shyly, not looking directly at him, seemingly uneasy at the formality of a public restaurant – maybe at the idea of meeting him by invitation, rather than by chance.

She wore a simple gold chain, with an imposing amethyst pendant that brought his gaze down toward the cleavage visible above the low-cut dress. He could almost hear her smile, and when he looked back up, two sparkling blue eyes stared intently into his.

The waiter suddenly reappeared, bringing water in crystal flutes and took drink orders… he listened to her voice as she described her preference – it was the first time he had heard her speak this evening – it was a soft, girlish sound – reserved and tentative, completely different than the confident, outgoing woman he had been with on other occasions.

Her hands were delicate, fingers neatly manicured with white tips – other than the necklace, her only other jewelry was a silver band and a pinky ring with a beautiful detailed rose.

She watched him with interest, memorizing his face as if seeing it for the first time – and maybe, this time, it was. His voice – the same masculine whisper she had heard before – still captured her as if they were alone, holding her captive and unable to escape.

“You are so sexy, my enchantress,” he said, the words brushing against her as silk on flesh, and she shivered. He leaned across the table, his breath so close she felt it on her face, warm and alluring, and she inhaled deeply… waiting. His knee briefly met her thigh, flashes of lightning struck into the pit of her stomach in familiar desire…

Intense dark eyes locked into hers as he brought both hands to the table and began to lightly stroke the tips of her small fingers… slowly, in a hypnotic trance, she turned her palms upward, facing his – body heat merged in the air between them. Supported with wrists on the table, an invisible current became almost tangible as they continued - they could feel it – real as any touch – but their hands never came together completely.

Their eyes melted into a world far from the restaurant where they sat, these two unlikely individuals brought together by chance – and caught by fate.

He saw her nakedness in the depth of black pupils staring into his – and finally – unable to resist any longer – he pressed his fingers gently against hers. She couldn’t take her eyes away – absorbed in the fluidity of seduction, drowning without even attempting to save herself. His touch was warm, inviting – she slipped her fingers, one by one, between his… stroking up and down, caressing him.

He closed his hands around hers – the connection was so powerful she felt branded with his fingerprints. They moved ever so slightly, in tandem, like a soft glove that soothed them inside out… his fingers sliding down to the sensitive inner skin at the knuckle, then pulling away…and back up to the tiny fingertips.

Her mind was not at the table, but with him… in another place, where he touched past her flesh… and penetrated her subconscious until she surrendered to him in every way.

He wrapped her fingers into each other, embracing the soft fists again in his strong grasp, squeezing tenderly, stroking the sides with his thumbs… and she suddenly felt the uncontrolled rush deep inside her belly, yearning for him… blood racing through every vein in a flood of undeniable passion.

Looking into his eyes - deep brown pools where the infinity of pleasure enveloped her like a rising tide - her fingers slipped seductively into his palm and he led her up and away from the table, tossing a tip on the white cloth, nodding to the waiter. She turned a few heads as they walked out, and he held tightly to the hand now tucked under his arm, always keeping her close… remembering… anticipating the darkness of night.

Heart beating wildly, she followed him, his strength much more than physical. He had captured her once more… what was it about him? The answer was easy – just imagining the ecstasy she knew awaited, she could feel him already inside her… thrusting deeply against her until he left her breathless… again.

Sparked simply by touch, uncomplicated sensuality burns fervently out of control into a roaring inferno – climbing the towering peak, ecstasy would be the only escape.

Only a touch – nothing more, nothing less – stirring the senses into an erotic, fiery dance.