A Romantic Evening

A note to readers: I sometimes write sections of my stories out of sequence or to ensure that a specific idea or scene is captured when I think about it. I hope that when I fit the parts together they appear seamless and the resulting story does not 'jump shift' when the parts are melded together.

Below is such an example of a scene that I did not want to lose when the inspiration struck. I expect that the scene will be part of a coming chapter of You Can't Spell MILF Without M-I-L.

I decided to post it separately just to see how it stood on its own. I've placed it in the Erotic Couplings category (and not the Incest/Taboo category) to separate it for now.

SPOILER ALERT! Since this may end up in a future chapter of the story you may find that reading it reveals too much of future events in the story.

*****

I looked up. I stared. I mean, I just stood there, motionless, with my eyes fixed on her. I'm sure my mouth was agape.

Her dazzling smile slowly waned. "Well, say something," she pleaded.

I said the first thing that came into my mind. "Janet, you look TFS."

Her eyebrows arched and confusion clouded her gorgeous face. "TFS?"

"Totally Fucking Stunning."

It is always a joy to watch someone you love bloom with raw emotion when they feel good about themselves. Not pride, not arrogance just that deep seated feeling of self worth for which we all have a primal need.

She shyly dropped her eyes, not having sought or expected such a raw reaction. She smiled a demure, but genuine smile created by a mixture of happiness, satisfaction, relief and confidence.

Janet floated into my arms, her entire body molded to mine. I felt her eyelashes on my neck as she blinked. I could feel the soft skin of her cheek and the edge of her lips shift below my ear as she spoke.

"How is it you always know the perfect thing to say to me?"

"I don't even need to think about it. You just bring the words out of me, Janet."

"I'm going to need to go back and start again," she sighed, "For you, my dear, sweet man, have turned me into a puddle."

I realized that I was, more or less, holding her up. She was draped against me, my arms tightly around her and her arms clinging to my neck.

I felt her body rise against me as she stood under her own power. She placed the softest of all kisses on my cheek and walked away.

"You look TFS from this view, too," I called after her.

She went into her bathroom; I heard the sink running, then nothing for a period of time. After what seemed to me an eternity, but was actually only two minutes, I heard the door open. She walked toward me again, this time using that runway strut that fashion models use.

"Stop it," I begged. "You're killing me."

I will attempt to describe the vision that she was. I am incapable of truly communicating the beauty, the grace, the raw carnal splendor that she embodied.

Her long blonde hair was swept back over her the top half of her ear on each side of her head. It was collected in a not loose, not severe gathering at the back of her head. Light shading of color on her eyelids and mascara made her already captivating blue eyes even more amazing. Her lips were once again the color of sweet, pink frosting (I was sensing that this was a favorite) that allowed their sensuousness to be accented but not overpowering and fit perfectly with the color of her tan skin.

Her ears were adorned with simple diamond studs, I estimated them at a carat each. They sparkled and flashed in the light, drawing attention to her long, graceful neck. A hammered silver necklace about a half inch wide circled the base of her neck, lying flat against her collar bone.

Over each shoulder lay a thin, round strap that descended to meet the top of her black, silk dress. The fabric collected loosely, sexily but not provocatively over and around each breast. The material draped perfectly between her two unharnessed mammaries and on her sides the material was taut, but not tight as it circled to meet the strap at her shoulder blades. Between the straps on her back the silk gathered and flowed in a dramatic fashion, similar to the effect between her breasts, allowing her tanned back to be displayed.

The dress fell softly over her flat tummy and the gentle curve of her hips. Somehow it seemed to dip in below her behind. It ended at the middle of her thighs all around.

Her tanned, toned arms never looked better and she wore a silver watch with a white face on her left wrist, a single silver cuff that matched the necklace above her right bicep. Only the ring finger of her left hand was embellished with that blue sapphire ring. Her fingernails were a perfect, muted French Tip.

The effect of her legs, exposed from mid-thigh to toe was heightened (literally as well as figuratively) by the five inch spike heel sandals with the half inch platform. Jet black leather, the heels arched her foot perfectly. A single, thin strap that crossed behind the heel and buckled at the side of the ankle worked in concert with a single, slightly wider strap that ran straight across the top of her peds, just behind the line where her toes met her foot. Each nail was painted a perfect, bright red guaranteed to draw attention but not distract.

In short, Janet was beauty, class, sex, dignity and style all packaged into one feminine human.

Her breasts bounced lightly with each strutting step as she approached me a second time.

"Oh, man Janet! I do not think I have ever seen a woman look so perfect as you do tonight. We'll need to do two things before we leave. First, call the fire department and tell them to increase the number of ambulance crews because of all the men who will have heart attacks looking at you. Second, we need to call the police department and get a police protection detail to keep all the other women from attacking you in fits of jealous rage."

She slapped at my arm and told me to be quiet as she blushed. She then wrapped her arm in mine and bent her head into my shoulder. "Tom, please stop. I'm not used to such effusive flattery and you're making me feel embarrassed."

"I'm sorry. I'll stop. It wasn't my intention to make you feel uncomfortable. You just look fantastic tonight and I had to say something." I kissed her forehead and asked, "Ready to go?"

"As long as I'm with you the answer will always be yes."

We strolled to the elevator. I wanted nothing about this evening to be rushed.

"You know, you clean up pretty well yourself. I'm sticking very close to you tonight. There a lot of single cougars down here who would pounce on a fresh, young stud like you in a heartbeat."

It was my turn to be embarrassed. "Now who's the flatterer?"

When the elevator doors closed I looked at our distorted image in the shiny metal. With my best black loafers, light grey pants, a summer weight navy blue blazer and white button down shirt I didn't look half bad. My tan was pretty nice at this point, too and the white shirt made it look even better. I saw from our reflection that she was taller than me by a good inch and, while that would usually bruise my male ego, tonight it somehow intensified my enjoyment of being with her.

Everything started as I pulled the car up to the valet stand in front of the restaurant. Three young attendants elbowed each other to fight for the honor of opening Janet's door and assisting her from the vehicle. She didn't notice, but I did. On the sidewalk, several men slowed their steps as they walked with their partners to allow that extra moment to look at her. One of the couples was two gay men and I heard one say to the other, "Did she look fabulous or what?" as I came around the car.

She locked her arm through mine as we walked into the restaurant. I gave me name and the time of our restaurant to the maitre'd.

"Your table is ready. Please follow me," he announced.

I had experienced what happened next only once before. I was in a restaurant in Chicago when Oprah Winfrey walked in. Conversations stopped, wait staff stopped moving and, except for the sounds from the kitchen, silence blanketed the entire restaurant. Seconds passed and then the placed seemed to explode like a thunderclap as everyone spoke at once.

And so it happened as Janet entered this restaurant. The silence seemed to roll across the tables as one, then another, then two more, then four more fell silent and those seated turned to look at what had stopped the other conversations.

I felt Janet stiffen beside me and sotto voice I told her to relax. I knew that with her height, her golden hair, her alluring body and the way her dress flowed, every eye in the place was looking at her with desire, jealousy, or appreciation.

I saw a woman at a nearby table slap her husband on the arm and screech, "Henry!" That seemed to be the catalyst, and, just like in that Chicago restaurant, conversations seemed to burst open everywhere at once.

As we were seated at a small but comfortable booth on one side of the room I heard Janet let go a deep breath.

"Yeessshh, that was harder than walking down the aisle at my wedding. I've never liked being the center of attention. All I wanted was to look good for you tonight."

I knew she spoke truthfully. She never sought out attention or compliments. She was a natural 'people person' and comfortably engaged individuals or groups at parties, by the pool or in a grocery store. But her focus was on others, not herself and that's how she made it look so easy.

"First of all, relax. Your walk on the red carpet it over. Second, I believe that what you experienced was mass pity at your having to go to dinner with some dolt like me. Third, you deserved every bit of attention you just received, not only because you are TFS but because of what a wonderful person you are. Tonight was simply a single karmic repayment of all of the ways you are so nice to you."

Her response was to grab my hand and drag it between her thighs until my fingers touched the steaming heat of her exposed pussy.

"At the condo I had to go back to the bathroom to 'freshen up' because I was beginning to drip down my legs. Now I'm going to leave a giant wet spot on the backside of my dress. And it's all because of you. Your words have such an effect on me. Not my head but my insides. I feel this swell of emotion each time you speak to me like that and I cannot stop the sudden gush between my thighs."

As gallantly as I could, I took my napkin from my lap and tucked it under her bottom. "I hope this will spare your dress. If there is a spot I will gladly remain close behind you all night."

"Please talk about something else, baseball box scores, anything or else this napkin will do no damn good." Her eyes seemed to be filling with tears as she spoke.

"Are you okay?" I asked softly.

"No, I'm not okay. You're leaving me tomorrow," she blurted out. As she turned her head to look down a tear fell into her napkin on her lap.

I didn't know what to say. I sat there with my arm around her in stupefied silence.

"Tom, I know this isn't fair to you. I'm acting like some child with a crush." She put her left hand on the table. "I'm even carrying this fantasy of being married to you to such foolish lengths. I'm just a flighty, old woman who should just get on with things. I should adopt ten cats, get a library full of romance novels and stay out of sight."

If she weren't so upset I would have laughed at the thought of her reading romance novels surrounded by her cats. I turned her face to look at me.

"Janet, shut up." Her eyes widened in surprise. "You are a beautiful woman. I don't just mean how physically attractive you are. I mean who you are as a person. How you handled things moments ago is the perfect example. Some women, knowing they were beautiful would have been haughty as then strode to their table. They would have expected nothing less. Others would have been a complete bitch, glaring at those who stared at them. But you, not seeking or expecting the reception you received tonight handled it with grace. You didn't let your discomfort show and you demurely accepted the attention."

I continued. "As to you being foolish and fantasizing, nonsense. Foolish is never a word anyone would use in speaking of you, ever. To be honest, I have enjoyed the fantasy of being married to you for the past days very much as well. Any man would. It may have escaped your notice but I have rarely not been holding your hand or not had my arm around your waist or missed the opportunity to kiss you in public. We may not be married but we are lovers and this has been as intense as anything I've ever experienced."

I added one final piece in conclusion. "I hate cats, so no cats or I'll never visit you again. On the other hand I'd be happy to read all the romance novels with or to you."

Her smile broke across her face and the sparkle returned to her eyes.

"Oh, Tom,...Tom..." she breathed as her delicate fingers caressed my cheek and chin.

A discreet "Ahem" broke us from the world where only we two existed and announced the waiter's presence.