Red Wine and Tin Ceilings

She shook her head as she sat in the waiting room. This was a whole new realm for her and she wasn't sure exactly how to proceed. She had been with two new lovers in a span of 5 days and they were separate from her semi-regular married entanglement. It didn't count the man she was in love with, the man she was lusting after or the man tip-toeing around the perimeter. It also didn't include her husband.

She felt alive, maybe for the first time ever. The therapist was going to have a field day today. They had barely scratched the surface of her men at the last session and the weekend had brought changes she hadn't imagined. As a teenager, it was a rare treat to be attached, and for her, being attached at all was a major coup. Fast forward 27 years and she had seven to occupy her mind and her body in various and sundry ways.

Friday night when she got in he was online and looking for her. She was persistent and made sure he knew all the ways she wanted to please him. His need and desire for her wore him down and he gave her directions to his place. After a quick shave, soften, primp and paint and new clothes, she was on her way. The previous two months of foreplay ran through her mind as she drove through the rain.

He met her at the door and was exactly as she had expected. He stood around 5'10, dark eyes, glasses, and long black hair. Before he had the door closed he said, "You look beautiful." He asked to hug her and they stood in the foyer for quite a long time, waiting for their heart rates to slow. He kissed her, told her again how beautiful she looked and took her by the hand.

He lived in a rambling Victorian and walked her through into the kitchen, giving the nickel tour on the way. The house was full of all the things an old house should have. There was a tin ceiling in the kitchen, in addition to a big dinosaur of a stove. The modern touches were minimal and took nothing away from the originality of the room.

She had told him before leaving her apartment that a half of glass would go a long way towards relaxing her. She knew she'd be fine until she walked in the door... and she was right. He poured two juice glasses of red wine, apologizing because the movers had broken all his wine glasses when he moved back home.

They made small talk about the house, his neighborhood and then he kissed her, a little deeper, holding it longer than the first. They talked a bit more and he leaned in and kissed her again. He was wiry and strong and when he set his glass down and pulled her close, she could feel his excitement against her body.

He held her face in his hands and they stood that way, face to face, not kissing, just enjoying the fact that they were in each other's arms. He slid his hands down, around her back and held her there. Her breathing was shallow; she just wanted him to kiss her. His fingers slipped under her shirt and skimmed the skin on her waist. "God, you are so soft, so sexy." The sound of his voice only added to her desire for him and she shifted her body against him slightly.

He moved in and kissed her deeply, but not too hungry yet. Every time he pulled away he told her how good she looked, how beautiful she was, how good she felt in his arms and then his mouth was on her again. He teased her that way over and over. At some point, she had managed to put her glass down and she felt as though she was melting into him.

She knew about his hair before they met. He didn't have to cut it every two weeks for the bureaucrats anymore and was celebrating it. She had never been with a man with hair and wasn't sure how she felt about it until the moment she saw him. It was a part of him and it suited him. She had imagined how it might feel in her hands and the reality was better. It was incredibly thick and soft and she wound her fingers deep into it, holding him to her. "I need to get this hair under control," he whispered. She murmured "Oh my God, no, don't change a thing."

The kiss came again and the need was clear. She knew he would make love to her tonight and she couldn't wait. He didn't grab or reach or squeeze. He was gentle but not shy about his desire. He looked at her and said, "I want to put my weight on you. Is that alright?" "Yes." "Would it be very forward to take you to my bed?" "What took you so long?" she murmured.