My fingernail trapped the olive in my dirty martini and slid it up the glass and then into my mouth. My eyes flicked to the doorway of the hotel lounge. I had arrived slightly early after checking in that afternoon with my husband. He waited in our room patiently. He wanted details.
In arriving early I could be the first to assess, the first to see him before he saw me. His name was James Wilson, and we’d met on an on-line site called The Sex Experiment. I wondered if he would be as willing to experiment as he indicated in our shared emails. It’s one thing for a person to hot talk over wires and cursors and miles–quite another to show up in person and literally bend one’s own rules with a relative stranger. I looked out over the skyline of the city through my glass and my heart jumped, my thought stunning me. I realized I knew precious little about James. What if I am the one who does the bending?
When he walked in, I recognized him from the photo he sent me. His shoulders were broader in person. A spotlight from the track lights near the door illuminated his hair so it glowed and his eyes were shadowy. When they met mine, he smiled.
I uncrossed my legs, and the sensation of shifting with all of the moisture that had descended between them caused me to lift up a little in my chair. I was sure the second he got close, he would be able to smell me...
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