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I felt the hard beating of my heart inside my chest, the blood heating in my veins. Without taking my eyes from his, I slowly reached forward and ran my hand along the outside of his thigh, from knee to hip. When he didn’t move or object, I ran my hand back down and to the inside, drawing up towards his crotch. He remained silent as my hand covered his warm bulge. His only response was a short, sharp intake of breath when my fingers glided over it. With my eyes still on his I slowly caressed his length through his pants, from tip to root, and back again. I felt it stiffen to my touch. “I think I got the reaction I was looking for,” I breathed, my eyes still locked on his. “Maybe…” he slowly responded, still not moving. “Maybe you should look a little closer…just to be sure.” That was an ‘open’ invitation if I ever heard one! Trying hard to conceal my excitement, I reached for his belt, pulling out the tongue, then unhooking the buckle, then pulling it open, all in slow motion,. I am not sure who was more surprised bythe outcome of events, he or I. All that afternoon Ithought about Blackie and Norman and sometimes got lostin a freaky world of heightened sexuality and fear, andperhaps those two are the essential ingredients for me.Friday seemed to come around quickly and the day flewpast, it always being busy at the end of the week. WhenI arrived home there was a message on my answeringmachine to remind me of the meeting, as if I would haveforgotten I thought and laughed to myself. I ate earlyand decided to have a bath and try to relax, also a fewgin and tonics… more than I should have had too. Ilay in the bath thinking and drinking for probably anhour, and by the time I emerged I was very relaxed…Ilooked in the mirror at myself and then decided todress sexily… why not? Not for Norman or the dog, butfor me.I wanted and needed to feel good. Black suited me well,and black underwear with black stockings seemed to fitthe bill topped by a slinky.
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