It certainly wasn’t his height. He’s only a few inches taller than she is. And it wasn’t his beautiful thick beard. Although she could imagine how it might tickle the inside of her thighs. It was his eyes.
Trite, she knew.
They were dark brown – kind, mischievous, and deep. His body was well built, but not hard and thick. There was something appealing about his hispter boots and plaid shirt.
They met at a neighbourhood wine and cheese party. She went as an attempt to get out of her normal routine: something new and different and pushing her to the edge of her comfort zone. He was there as a host. Behind the table, he turned to look at her as she came up and their eyes locked.
Trite, she knew.
The connection, the interest, the frisson. No one had caught her eye like this since him and she was excited. She smiled broadly and offered her name. He offered his hand, “Hi Jess, I’m Mark. Glad to meet you,” he kept gazing into her eyes, and when their hands met, the energy was palpable. Jess blushed a little and tucked her hair behind her ear after they finally let go.
Sipping her wine and nibbling on cheese, her eyes frequently drifted back to where he was standing, chatting with others. The other men in the room had several inches on him. And yet. It didn’t matter. He had an energetic presence, and when he glanced over to where she lightly wiggled to the music, they both smiled. Jess blushed again and began to imagine what it might be like to kiss his mouth, nestled among all his facial hair. And how it might tickle as his lips drifted down her neck and into the deep neckline of her dress.
Oh man. She was really blushing now. Mark came up to her and grinned at the heat evident in her face.
“How are you enjoying the wine, Jess?” His lips drew together in a delicious way as his mouth curved around her name, drawing out the ss sound into a smile. She was powerless to stop the smile that also came to her face, crinkling her eyes and lighting them with a different kind of heat.
“It’s really good, Mark, thanks.” He nodded and was interrupted by his colleague. “Heya Jess, we’re going to wrap up here soon, but we’re going to be sampling some whisky upstairs afterwards. Sort of like a private party – wanna join?” How could she say no? Jess said yes, that it sounded great.
The remaining moments of the party passed in a slow throb. She wasn’t sure what to expect, but Jess was keen to find out. The lightweight dress gave the bare suggestion that she wasn’t wearing a bra, and the anticipation of having a private party with Mark warmed her body and sent shivers of excitement across her bare legs and arms. She drank more wine. Ate more cheese. Played with the golden necklace that would often slip into her cleavage. Chatted mindlessly with other neighbours. Until finally there were only a few people left, and Mark’s mate invited the remaining upstairs.
Jess shook out her burgundy hair as she joined the others climbing up the back stairs. The woman in front of her was wearing a very short skirt, and every once in a while the skirt flounced up and Jess could see she was wearing a cute pair of yellow knickers. The woman’s blond hair trailed almost down to her hips – poker straight and streaked with darker shades. Jess became aware of how hot she was becoming between her thighs, and she began to blush again. There was something very sexy about seeing this woman’s fanny, especially because she didn’t know Jess was peeking.
The stairs opened into a wide but shallow loft space – amazingly decorated, with an assortment of carpets, pillows, and wide chairs. There was a small kitchen, a well stocked bar, a kitchen table and chairs, and she assumed, a bedroom on the upper floor. A few people headed straight to the bar and the stools around it, some others lounged on the chairs, and two people began discussing music. Jess looked around. Feeling kind of lost and unsure, Mark had the intuition to come over to her at that moment with a smokey whisky in his hand. She took it gratefully. She had been slightly uncertain as to whether she imagined the connection between them, but when their fingers grazed together, she knew they both felt that thrill. Mark smiled again and she touched his strong forearm with thanks.
…to be continued…