They flew across the room, a shining blur of red vinyl smashing into a plump cushion pillow and bouncing off the corner of a walnut chair leg. Jeanette smiled a tired smile and tossed her auburn tresses out of her eyes. The work day was finally over. She shrugged out of her navy blue blazer and let it fall to the floor. Her black nylon shod feet stepped into the lush beige living room carpet as she began unbuttoning her white cotton blouse. Her fingers skipped nimbly over each button, almost dancing with the joy of the release she was soon to feel. The blouse flowed open, exposing the gentle curves of her pale breasts as they were restrained by a white lace bra. Jeanette relaxed her shoulders and let the blouse fall to the floor. It crumpled into the carpet and was grazed by one silky nylon foot and left behind. Jeanette arched her arms behind her back and expertly freed the clasp of her bra. Her breasts bounced with the release and the straps slid forward. She paused in her trek. I’m James,” the young man said, confidence exuding from his face. She took his hand delicately and replied with a flirtatious smile, “Well hello James, I’m Elle. You’re right about the martinis, they’re terrible.” He suddenly leaned close to her ear, her soft hand in his firm grip still, “Tell me something Elle. Why is a thirty-year old woman talking to a twenty-year old boy in a dark bar that can’t even make a good martini? Why aren’t you at home, being fucked by, I don’t know, a barrister, or surgeon, or an author of high regard?” Taken aback by his words, she was speechless. He let go of her hand, and she could feel her fingers throb just a little. Why was her heart pounding? He wasn’t that good looking. But there was something, a tingle between her legs, a slight blush to her décolletage. This man was not a boy, it was certainly clear. He knew exactly what he was doing. “Why don’t you take me back to your place Elle? I can feel how tense you just got, let me relax you,” James.
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