I couldn’t help but stop to take stock of how well things we were going for me right now; the divorce was FINALLY complete, I had actually met someone interesting on the new dating app my friends signed me up for, and I was the keynote speaker for the Regional Nursing Association Meeting tomorrow night. A year ago, some would have said that I was a hot mess. Giggling to myself at that thought, I glanced at the clock.
7:45 p.m. Speech rehearsal time is over; it’s time to get ready for my date. Another giggle rattles through my head. Alright, it may not be the conventional date; things are evolving, right? And I am now a woman of evolution. I stepped into my closet and grabbed a cute red sleeveless blouse with an attached scarf, knowing the red complimented my emerald eyes and glossy brunette hair. I also loved that scarf, it could be tied several different ways, and all pulled the eye to my décolleté. Other than my piercing green eyes, my ample cleavage is my best asset. A quick stop at the makeup table to refresh my makeup and add my favorite matte lipstick - Big Apple Red. I surveyed myself in the mirror. This is stupid; we are not doing a video date, just a phone date? He won’t even see me! Another giggle starts to erupt, but I stop, looking again at myself, and say out loud, “But I feel sexy,” and if I feel sexy, then I will emote sexy on the call. I give myself a corny thumbs up in the mirror and head to the computer.
Once logged into the date, I find that Mr. Darcy (don't you love his screen name?) is already logged in; he is always here. First, punctuality is very telling. When I am logged in, he says, “Good Evening, Jill,” and there it is…The Voice. That masculine, sexy, warm ray of sunshine envelops me and lights me up from the inside out. How can three words make me want to smile, do cartwheels, and giggle, all while making me tingle, create a yearning deep in my soul and awaken arousal that has long been sleeping? Because of The Voice, Mr. Darcy could say anything, and I would likely swoon.
“Good Evening Mr. Darcy,” I say, trying not to betray myself and the cacophony of feelings he creates in me. “How are you this evening?” Why did I want to add Sir at the end of that question? That was odd. I supposed Mr. Darcy just commanded respect. She pictured him in expensive tailored suits and Italian leather shoes that smelled rich and earthy. While caught in her fantasy, Mr. Darcy had answered and returned the question; now, there was an awkward silence waiting for me to fill it with my answer.
“Jill, are you ok?”
“Er uh... yes sorry.. what was that? Oh, I am good, just last-minute details for tomorrow night. You know, practicing my speech again and again. Making sure I have all the cables and such. Trying to decide between the black or gray suit.”
“Black,” he says definitively. “Always black. Accented with a power color, like red. The red will accent your jade-colored eyes.”
My mouth is gaping; I look down at my red top and wonder how he got in my head. I self-consciously wanted to wrap my arms around my chest to protect myself. But as my forearm came to cover my breasts, I feel that my nipples have stiffened. I hadn’t even noticed until I touched them now and it sent electricity to my core. My nipples had always been super sensitive. Apparently, his husky voice and his support of my speech are more exciting than alarming to my body!
The date continued with the typical conversation, happenings of the week, anecdotal childhood stories, and twenty questions to get to know each other better. Listening to him talk in that sinewy voice continued to feed the flame growing my core. At the end of the call, Mr. Darcy thanked me for a wonderful evening and asked if we could have an afternoon date on Sunday, as he would love to hear about the inevitable success of the speech. Smiling at his unconditional support, I agree, and we are set for another date at 2:00 p.m. on Sunday.
I lean back in the chair and took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and could feel my whole body humming. “What the hell is wrong with you, girl?” I said out loud to myself. I close my eyes, take another deep breath, inhaling slowly, hold that breath, center myself. As I exhale slowly, I see Mr. Darcy caressing my face and saying, “Good evening Jill” in that voice that runs over you in a waterfall, warm but forceful. My eyes pop open in surprise; what the hell was that? It was a fluke. But my heart is racing, my breath is fast, and that arousal in my core sure is awake!
This cannot happen now; I chide myself. I have too much to do. I am going to take five minutes of meditation to center myself and then get to work. I stand up, and for the first time, I notice just how much yearning Mr. Darcy has awakened in me. It’s as if my bikini briefs have gone swimming without me! They are drenching with my sex juices, and now standing, I can even feel that juice running down my right leg. I shake my head; this reaffirms my need for meditation and focus.
I set the iPhone timer for five minutes, lie down on the floor, legs slightly spread, arms out to the side, and eyes closed. I start with deep breathing, inhale for four, exhale for eight; inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. As I begin to feel my body relax, Mr. Darcy enters my mind again. But I don’t stop breathing this time. He takes my hand in his and kisses my wrist, then up my arm.
“Jill, it’s so good to meet you in person finally.” His voice is not so much a sound as it is smoke filling the air around me and holding me tightly. I can’t hold back the soft moan he elicits.
He is kissing my collar bone now, up my neck. His lips are like a whisper on my skin, and my whole body shivers with each beautiful graze. His hands follow the path of his kisses and reach their peak, cupping my face in his robust hands as he kisses my lips with a passion that makes my knees buckle and fall into his arms.
