Ms. Jillian B. Hart
A Business Trip... Somewhere in Beacon Hill...
He glances at a text that instantly creates arousal and intrigue.
"Where can I meet you?"
His eyes blur the words on the screen as his mind jumps from thought to thought wondering if it is a text game or if an open invitation has now been engraved.
The desire to respond must be calculated by the need to be professional, work day doesn't end for a few hours. A little while later, before the opportunity to text back arrives... his pocket vibrates again.... signaling another text message.
Her again. "Or shall I send you clues on where to find me?"
It took nothing to picture her smile as she typed the words or the gleam and sparkle in her eyes as she pressed send. Just the right mixture of impatience and enticement. His mind now racing around with the finishing thought being, she's here.
Every moment of the seminar dragging on with distraction on the forefront. Another vibration.... "You're working Baby... don't worry - I'll wait! Boston's a big town I can keep busy - 'ping' me later".
Her feelings flying between confidence and concern. So many months of anticipation and wonder. Questions overcoming every thought - echo through the silence in her mind. Could it be real? How far do I go? How will I know if I should stay or go? Deep breath....... Honesty. We've always had honesty. Enough has been said, texted. His turn now. Her trance of thought broken by the bartenders words,
"Miss can I get you something?"
"Yes, a glass of red wine please... something sweet."
The glass is smooth, cool and hard in her hand. She swirls the sweet potion gently around allowing it to breath while taking in its aroma. The city beacons to her - yet for now it will wait. She finds herself almost paralyzed waiting for a response. Time ticks by painfully slow. She sips the wine slowly and feels the effect of it in her head. The silence scares her because it speaks the truth. What truth will be revealed...?
Vrrrrrrrrrrrrrr, Vrrrrrrrrrrrrr, the sound seems louder then life as phone shakes across the bar. She breathes deep and bites her scarlet painted lip as a slightly trembling hand fumbles to catch the phone. She reads, "Tell me how to find you." The sound of her own breath as she exhales through her mouth fills her ears and the other sounds of the world blend and melt away. Stirring arousal tingles through ever fiber of her being. Coolly she crosses her legs to contain the rising heat and shifts her body to relax her posture so that the nipple erections won't be obvious to every onlooker.
She texts... "Weeks Footbridge "