It was a frank discussion followed by subtle insult and hurt. A weak attempt at make-up sex did little to address the issue.
Our kids were older, two in college and one nearly graduated high school. That latter child was around enough to dissuade us from real sponteneity. There was none. Our sex life had grown stale. But following a week of internal grumblings, I resolved to act.
The youngest was off on a school trip, the others hours away at college. Friday afternoon my arrangements were set. I awaited across town in a corner booth, hopeful.
My wife arrived home after reading my text which listed a simple set of instructions to go to the bedroom and unwrap the set of clothes set on a hanger in the bathroom doorway. White button-down blouse, top three buttons removed in advance by me, black skirt. Black laced bra, push up. Matching panties. Heels. And the peach-colored wig she'd worn the previous Halloween that she seemed to enjoy so much.
Along with the ensemble came additional written instructions. Make-up of your choosing but I wouldn't argue against smoky eyes. You have two hours to get ready. Then go to the bar at the Westin. There will be two empty seats, seven o'clock at the end of the bar. Yours will have a glass of Chardonney holding your spot. Oh, and your name is Cherice.
----
She was late, but worth it. The bar crowd was light but as she strolled in heads turned. Her eyes were indeed smoky, and sexy as hell. Her lips shined an earthy tone, a close match to her temporary peach hair. I could see the swell of her tanned cleavage inside the loosely buttoned blouse. I felt the familiar surge of electricity pulse through me, like when I felt her skin against mine.
I was obscure, tucked away in the corner, unseen to her swiveling gaze. Her eyes found the Chardonnay at the end of four empty bar stools. She sat, then sipped.
I approached unseen from behind as her glass neared empty. "Cherice?" I queried.
"Yes..." she pivoted to face me. "And you are?"
"Enjoying the sight of you," I replied. "I've been eyeing you for some time now."
"Is that right?" She raised an eyebrow.
Her skirt rode high on her legs and I rested my hand on her bare thigh. "You're gorgeous. Such hair..."
"You're rather forward."
"I'd like to have dinner with you."
"Oh really."
"Yes... room service." My hand slid up under her skirt, caressed her inner thigh. I stepped in closer, whispered in her ear. "Right now."
----
The elevator door closed and I pressed her into the corner, our lips meeting at once. I simultaneously tasted her lipstick, inhaled her scent and palmed her breast as our tongues found each other. Her boob freed easily from the push-up bra and my mouth went to it, teasing her nipple with my tongue before engulfing it with my mouth. "Mmmm," she moaned.