Love, America-style 2011

Then he quietly shut the door
and we were alone.

He approached me soundlessly,
from behind,
and spoke in a low, reassuring
voice close to my ear.

"Just relax."

Without warning, he reached down and
I felt his strong, calloused hands
start at my ankles, gently probing,
and moving upward along my calves slowly
but steadily.

My breath caught in my throat.
I knew I should be afraid, but somehow I didn’t care.
His touch was so experienced,
so sure.

When his hands moved up onto my thighs,
I gave a slight shudder, and partly
closed my eyes.

My pulse was pounding.
I felt his knowing fingers caress my abdomen,
my ribcage...
And then, as he cupped my firm, full breasts in
his hands,
I inhaled sharply.

Probing, searching, knowing
what he wanted,
he brought his hands to my shoulders,
slid them down my tingling spine and
into my panties.

Although I knew nothing about this man,
I felt oddly trusting and
expectant.
This is a man, I thought.
A man used to taking charge. A man
not used to taking "No" for an answer. A man
who would tell me what he wanted.

A man who would look into my soul and say...
"Okay Ma’am," said a voice,
"All done."

My eyes snapped open and he was standing in front of me,
smiling, holding out my purse.