by Anita Claire
Wearing the black shoes, the cuff, and the sparkly chandelier earrings, I pull my hair back in a quick braid. “Wow, I look so sophisticated.” I say at my image.
Mom just smiles, “Come on; let me see you in the pink dress.”
The pink dress with the silver shoes looks great--very classy, very sophisticated, and very form fitting. It’s a definite departure from my jeans and girly T.
Smiling, mom says, “I’ll never be able to wear those dresses again without seeing you in them.” She kisses my cheek.
“One more thing,” mom says as she pulls out a long camel color cashmere coat. “I bought this coat before you were born. I only wear it when I travel in the winter. It’s worthwhile, buying good quality classics.” As she wraps everything up, I realize how lucky I am to have my parents living so close.
Chapter 28 – Party Prep
Nate: Do I get a booty call tonight?
Staring at my phone, I wonder if I should be playing hard to get, or if it is too late for that. Wanting to be with Nate, I wonder if too much booty call access will negatively affect our relationship. Hearing Kelly’s voice in my head, I text back,
Juliette: Only if I get to choose tonight’s position.
Cassie isn’t home. As I use her iPad to access her Sonos bar, I see that some of the artists I like have been added to her playlist. I bring up, You’re the Expert—a funny radio show where an expert in an obscure field of science is asked questions about their discipline from three comedians. I listen as I take care of the personal hygiene and housekeeping tasks I’ve been too busy to do since I’ve been with Nate. Loosing track of time, I’m surprised when the doorbell rings. Answering the door only wearing my plush robe, I usher Nate in.
He gives me one of his steamy smiles as he pulls me into him. Using both hands, he rubs me from my butt up my back. When we release, he says, “Mmm, you are so warm and cuddly.”
Dragging my hands down his chest, I say, “I know you just got here, but can I convince you to hold off on the small talk and just come to bed?”
“I don’t know about that, just jumping in bed with you with no small talk beforehand sucks.” He says with a wink.
As I head over to the kitchen wall to turn off the lights and the podcast, Nate asks, “What are you listening to?”
“It’s just a podcast.” I say, thinking about Cassie’s warning not to let guys know I like geeky shows. I wonder what Nate is thinking.
“This is good, clever. I wonder if my patients would understand their health care better if I rapped them their prognosis.”
Smiling at Nate, I give myself a little internal dance and a big YES. Nate thinks the shows I like are cool, not geeky. “I’ll send you the link to the podcast.” I say as I watch Nate head into the bedroom. Quickly putting away my housekeeping supplies, I head into the bedroom to find both lights on and Nate sitting up in bed looking at his phone.
“That was quick.” I say.
Nate places his phone on the bedside dresser. “I was wondering when you were going to be done. You’re the one who doesn’t want to waste any time with small talk. So what’s your plan?”
Standing in the middle of my bedroom, I just look at him in confusion, “My plan?”
“You said I could only come over if you get to choose. I’ve been looking forward to tonight all day. What have you chosen?”
Keeping the smile on my face, my entire chest constricts. Barely containing a gasp, I was just sending a sassy text. Shit, he is so much more knowledgeable about positions. What can I come up with? Starting with what’s easy, I give him eye contact as I slowly let my robe drop to my feet and strut naked over to him. His eyes get deep with the prospect of what will happen next.
My heart’s pounding, not with anticipation but with performance anxiety. Looking down at him, I say to myself, What should I do? Maybe he’s good in bed because he just does what he likes. What do I want? Moving the sheets back slowly, I gaze along his naked body as he watches me. He lifts his hand up and reaches for my thigh.
With a small smile, I say, “No, this is my turn. You only get to touch me when I tell you to touch me.”
His irises disappear as his pupils grow abnormally large with expectancy. Relaxing his arm from my leg, I can see his breathing increase. Strolling my fingertips down his chest in a gentle S shaped slalom pattern, I realize how much I enjoy the feeling of his chest hair; this actually relaxes me some. When I reach his stomach, I lazily trail my fingers along the planes of his strong abs. Focusing only on the part of the anatomy I’m touching, I don’t even look farther down until I get close, which is good since he’s already erect and that would have just unnerved me if I had looked earlier. Dragging my fingertips down his core, I glide my fingers over his stomach, dancing them through his pubic hair. Then I stroke my finger up the line on the back of his penis.
Nate gasps from my touch, giving me a shot of courage. I’ve never performed oral sex. Stephan begged me to give it to him, but I always refused, it never felt right. Twirling my fingers around the top, I drag my fingertips back down to the base as I watch it twitch and grow even stiffer. Continuing with my exploration, I reach for his balls, holding them in my fingers, as I lean down and let my tongue follow the line my fingers just took. Nate moans, so I assume I am doing this right. Not sure what to do next, I just wrap my tongue around his tip again as I lower my mouth so my lips are now on the top of the shaft. To my relief, it is soft and smooth with not much taste. Having a high gag reflex, I don’t want to suck it too far into my mouth. Closing my eyes I take a few relaxing breaths through my nose, and then I continue slowly swirling my tongue along the tip. Using my free hand I gently grasp his shaft, rolling my hand up and down as I slowly use my mouth to apply pressure. Then I hear Nate growl, I hope that’s a good sign, since I have no idea if what I’m doing is effective or even close to what he wants.
In a deep gravelly voice he says, “You need to stop now, or I’ll come in your mouth.”
Breaking my concentration, I look up, our eyes connect as I say to myself, “what’s next?”
His breathing is deep, his entire focus is on me, and what I’ll do next. His hands are clenched and his arms, neck, and shoulders are flexed as he strains but holds back by grasping the sheets. Reaching over to the table, I pick up a silver packet, tear it open with my teeth, and roll the condom over him as he gasps in response. Lifting my leg, I straddle his hips, firmly supporting myself on the bed with my knees. We maintain eye contact as I rake him along the top of my folds, back and forth giving me the friction I desire. The cords of his neck and arms are in high relief making him look powerful. I watch his chest rise and fall with each deep breath. Gently squatting, I steer his tip to me. Slowly, I lower myself down. We simultaneously gasp as he enters me.
Closing my eyes, I use my thighs to raise and lower myself, using Kegel exercises to squeeze him at the bottom of each down stroke. Nate starts bucking his hips as he synchronizes with my rhythm. As the speed increases, I can feel my breasts bounce with each stroke while my orgasm builds. My hands are clutching my thighs as the early contractions rack my body. Nate finally says, “I can’t hold it any longer.”
Opening my eyes, I see his eyes close as he grimaces, moans and comes into me. Finally, I collapse onto his chest, a hand on each peck. Immediately, he crosses his arms over my back, holding me tight. My body flinches and buzzes from my orgasm. He kisses my head. I moan in ecstasy. Never have I experienced anything like this. It’s the first time I’ve ever taken control. No wonder guys like being in control, it’s an exciting and heady experience. Emotions are running crazily through me, I feel like crying but for no good reason.
At some point, Nate whispers, “You OK?”
Unable to talk, I just nod my head as I press up with my feet until I reach his mouth. Licking his lower lip, I gently kiss where I licked, reaching his upper lip, I gently lick, then kiss it too. Finally, after running my tongue against his tongue, he joins me, giving me soft languid kis
ses. After a while, he rolls me off him and heads to the bathroom. On his return, he turns off the lights and pulls me in tight, so my head is in the perfect spot between his shoulder and chest.
Neither of us says anything as we fall asleep.
Chapter 29 – Dinner at the Bosses House
On Saturday instead of horseback riding, I head into the office. Chris is there when I get in. He leaves within a half an hour. I work for a while, while I wonder why it is so important for me to even show up.
Heading over to the dry bar, the stylist recommends I get an elegant updo that takes advantage of my curls. Arriving home, I apply eye shadow, giving my eyes a smoky look. It’s now six; I put on the black dress and heels, only wearing a thong underneath. Then I take a selfie, and e-mail it to my mom. Since I never turned up the heat, I put on my mom’s coat as I sit on the couch reading while I wait for Nate. When he arrives, he gives me a surprised look as he does a double take, checking out my updo, eye shadow, and lipstick. After a nice kiss, I have to rub lipstick off his mouth. He snaps his fingers to jingle my chandelier earrings.
“You do know how to dress up,” he says admiringly.
“In college a group of my friends and I went as princesses to a Halloween party. I was Snow White,” I say as I bat my heavily mascaraed eyes at him.
“Well Snow White, let’s hope you don’t run into any evil queens or poison apples,” he says, as he heads back to my room to drop off his bag. Coming back into the living room, he suggests, “You two need to buy a modern thermostat, so we can turn it up by cell phone half an hour before we get home. And turn it down from our phone when in bed.”
“I’ll put that on our grocery list.” I say with a giggle.
Opening the door, he watches me lock up, then places his hand on my lower back as we walk together to his car.
I can’t stop smiling at his nice manners as he opens the car door for me. We drive about four miles to his boss’s house, not far from where I ride in Los Altos Hills. Not surprisingly, it’s a large modern house on a hill. Nate rings the bell. We’re ushered into a large entranceway by a tall slim blond who looks to be about my mom’s age.
Nate introduces himself.
She warmly says, “Yes, we met last month when you were interviewing. We’re so happy you can join us. I’m Carol, Mike’s wife.”
“Carol. This is my girlfriend, Juliette Cole.”
My heart literally stops. This week, he started calling me babe when we were having sex, now he’s referring to me as his girlfriend. My friends all complain that the guys our age are commitment adverse. Caroline is always getting ahead of the guys she dates. Is Nate getting ahead of me?
Smiling, I say, “Nice to meet you.”
The doorbell rings and Carol leaves us. A woman wearing black pants and a white shirt takes my coat. Forgetting Nate has yet to see me in my mom’s sexy dress, I look over at him in time to see his eyes pop out of his head. He looks like he’s about to drool. Placing his hand on my lower back, he pulls me tight as he escorts me into the living room.
As we walk, he whispers into my hair, “To answer your text, yes, I’m having fantasies about having sex with you wearing high heels and a cocktail dress. Now I don’t know if I can even wait for this dinner to be over.”
It’s a good thing that the house is full of doctors since my heart stops a second time in less than five minutes.
The living room is large, with thick cream-colored crown molding and heavy, elegant baseboards painted to match. The high ceiling and wall of windows make the room even more grand. It’s decorated in a casual, elegant, very California style. The walls, curtains, carpet, and furnishings are all in different textures of cream with sea green accents that match the modern paintings. The room is ringed with garland that’s been intertwined with thick gold ribbon. Each window is punctuated with a large wreath with gold ribbon twisted into a large gold bow. There are already six couples in the room. They look to be in their forties or fifties. Nate introduces me to each of them as his girlfriend.
As Nate talks to one of the other men, one of the women asks, “Are you from Minnesota?”
Surprised, I answer, “No, I’m from Los Altos.”
She raises her eyebrows, “How long have you known Nate?”
Realizing he’s only been in town two weeks, I smile. “I met Nate a few months ago when he was visiting his sister. His sister and I both played in the same soccer league.” Figuring this easily explains everything she needed to know, I change the subject. “Are you a sports medicine doctor?”
Laughing, she says, “No, I’m an attorney. My husband’s in this group.”
Nate saves me from small talk by putting his hand on my waist and pulling me in tight. “Can I get you a drink?” he says into my hair. His hand drifts down my waist to my hip making it easy for me to tell he’s having a hard time controlling himself.
“Red wine would be nice,” I say as a few more couples come into the room. Nate leaves me again to shake some hands and get a glass for me. Sitting down on an oversized ottoman, I smile as all the real adults greet each other and talk around me. Another woman sits down next to me, introducing herself as Steve’s wife. Using my new title, I introduce myself as Nate’s girlfriend.
Looking over my shoulder, my eyes meet with Nate’s as he talks to one of the men we met when he took me to the hockey game. After two other women sit down with us, they all start talking about their kids.
Nate returns with a large glass of red wine. Good, I need it, since I feel like I’m at one of my parents’ parties. As the conversation moves from kids to mortgage rates, I almost expect that someone is going to tap me on the shoulder and tell me it’s time for the kids to go to bed. Since it’s a little early for bed, maybe they’ll just direct me to the kiddie table for dinner.
Looking around, I ask if there are any women in the practice. One of the women smiles as she tells me there’s one woman, and including Nate, eleven men. She continues by telling me she’s an OB/GYN, and her practice is one hundred percent women. Lucky for me, there are enough people mingling that I can look engaged by simply smiling, and no one will know I’m out of my element.
After repeating the story of how Nate and I met about five times, I realize one of the women looks familiar. That’s right—her daughter and I were in the same Girl Scout troop. The daughter and I never were friends. In high school, she hung out with the theater group. That doesn’t stop the mom from filling me in on all her daughter’s exploits. Knowing the girl in question, I can read through the hype as I figure out she’s living in LA with her boyfriend, and working some lame ass job as she tries to break into the entertainment industry.
As one group of women shuffles out of my zone, another shuffles in and sits around the ottoman. I meet a woman who works at a bio-tech company, a Stanford professor, and a venture capitalist. I’m surprised that I’m the only engineer. This is probably the first time I’ve been anywhere in Silicon Valley where the majority of people aren’t engineers. I’m told by one of the other women that Carol, the homeowner, is an interior designer. I get a round of nods and smiles as I comment “That’s not surprising, this house is beautiful, she must be very successful at it.”
From the black pants and white shirts of the workers, it looks like the dinner is being catered. As everyone meets and chats, there is continually a server providing high-end appetizers. As we get up to head into the dining room, Nate comes over and instantly puts his hand on my waist as he quietly tells me, “Thank you for being such a good sport. I’m sorry for abandoning you. I had a hard time pulling myself out of that conversation.”
A flashback of England where Stephan is annoyed at me for not trying harder to fit in interrupts my thoughts. In every way, Nate is an improvement over Stephan. Next week’s crowd will be much closer to Nate’s age, I wonder if he’s ready for a geeky Silicon Valley party?
The dining room is large enough to sit twenty-four in three rounds of eight. The walls look to be papered in cream s
ilk. It, too, has thick cream-colored crown molding and baseboard trim and a tall wall of windows. The room is festive, just like the rest of the house. It looks like they took out their dining table and we’re sitting on rented chairs and tables. Each chair has a white cover with a fancy gold bow. The table is all done up with white linens. Gold chargers hold white china, and each table has an over the top gold centerpiece. As I sit down at the seat with the designated place card, I finally meet the one woman who’s in the practice, along with her spouse. The spouse tells me she used to work high-tech, but now they have three-year-old twins. My mom’s conversation comes back to me as the partner tells me she’s now a stay at home mom, since the price of day care didn’t leave her with any take-home money. By the looks of this house, I figure these doctors must be making enough money to support a stay-at-home wife and their children.
Nate’s boss, Mike, interrupts the table conversation with a toast, as Nate‘s hand trails up my thigh, making it hard to concentrate.
The first course is soup. The pregnant wife of one of the younger docs talks with the OB/GYN I met earlier. Her spouse asks Nate how he’s settling in. Squeezing my thigh, Nate tells him, “It’s been an easy transition. Juliette’s a great guide. She’s been showing me the local sites; last week we actually rode horses past this house.”
After dinner, the hostess asks us to go to the family room where they have their tree set up. It’s another elegant, but casual, room with high ceilings and a wall of windows ringed in garland and wreaths. As the doctors talk about the last year, Nate pulls me against him and leans against the back wall. When the year-end video is shown on their large flat screen TV, Nate pulls me out of the room, leading me into a large powder room.
“Nate—” is about all I can say before he pushes me against the wall kissing me deeply. With one hand on the wall, he uses the other to snake up my leg, pulling up the skirt of my dress to expose my lower half. I plant my arms around his neck, my fingers in his hair. Grabbing my butt cheek his fingers enter me.
