Husband Dot Com
Page 7
It took time to heal and place my broken pieces back together. I pulled myself out of a lonely slump and found my way back online again—nothing like getting bubble gum stuck in your hair over and over again. I had to wonder how many rainbows I needed to slide down to finally end up in a pot of gold.
13). Patrick
I was smack dab in the middle of major emotional damage control, after my divorce with Trent was finalized, when my boss announced that it was imperative for me to attend a mandatory sales meeting in the Windy City. At first, I was annoyed to leave town on such short notice with so much life crap piling up on my plate. My parents said they would watch Hope, and they mentioned that maybe the quick trip would do wonders for my bruised spirit.
I went straight to the meeting from the airport, and I thought that I would simply die from the excruciating boredom of the day’s meetings. Finally the meeting ended and I was so looking forward to checking into my hotel. As I set foot into the lobby, I was stunned that my boss put me up in such a luxurious five-star hotel. The first thing I did when I walked in the room was call down to room service. I ordered a big slice of peanut butter cheesecake and a bigger slice of pure relaxation. It felt decadent to be alone in such a beautiful place, devouring my treat and watching reruns of The Housewives of the OC—a perfect day.
I called the concierge to inquire about a taxi, and she mentioned to me that I should check out the tapas loft on the rooftop. She informed me that it was always fun between eight and ten. She said, “It’s a hotspot that you should not miss.” My full belly and I decided to take a delightful nap for a few hours. I cuddled with the oversized pillows and my plush cotton robe. I woke up starving and jumped in the shower like a wild beast. I summoned up the energy to check out the rooftop scene for myself. I had always been a little reserved about going out to eat alone, but I mustered up the courage to tell my shy self to kiss off. I quickly slid on my top-secret glitter heels and off I went.
I sat all alone at the bar, feeling awkward, twirling my straw around and chasing the lemon inside my wine spritzer. That was until I noticed a striking younger guy approaching the bar. He sat three chairs away from me, casually ordered a beer then asked for a menu. I was extremely giddy about this new fellow sitting near me and I wanted his attention in the worst way. I threw a few of my ice cubes at his shoes to get him to notice me—it always works like a charm. He started laughing and introduced himself with the brightest smile that illuminated the rooftop beautifully. Yes, serendipity was holding my hand that night, and the angels were giggling as they twirled my hair! I secretly thanked the love cherubs for their abundant peace offering.
His name was Patrick and his name fit him ever so perfectly. Patrick was my new temptation. It turned out that Patrick was an art professor from a small art school in Michigan. He was in town for a gallery opening. Patrick was about six-two with golden brown hair. He had the sweetest freckles that were gently nestled across the bridge of his nose. He was twenty-five, newly divorced, and ripe for the picking. He had a pure gentleness about him that the guys down south were lacking. I was sadly accustomed to the Friday night alligators that lurked in the swamps of the boondocks, patiently waiting for their prey’s glass slippers to get caught in their moss-covered traps.
I had a stimulating conversation with Patrick about art and design. It was refreshing not to talk about the usual simpleton caveman garbage. Just as I was ready to say my polite farewell to Patrick, he offered to walk me to the elevator. We stood by the elevators, and as soon as the doors opened he followed me inside. The doors closed, Patrick cornered me and kissed me hard. I felt an overwhelming heat surge slide down my spine and into my panties. Even though I had no idea where our rendezvous was headed, his soft lips floated my pink tugboat gently down my juicy river.
The only thing that could sedate my throbbing genitals was to invite Patrick into my after-hours flower patch. I was in need of a carnal rite of passage. I had yearned to sleep with someone new and forever wipe away my ex-husband’s cheap-ass germs off of me for good. Shoot, every once in a while a girl needs to have her garden sprinkled with some luminescent pearl-colored fertilizer. We entered the room and my head started spinning. We ordered a bottle of sparkling wine from room service. We kissed with intense passion after our nightcap arrived. With heated anticipation, I took off my blouse and then my red bra. My full boobs fell a little, as if to invite a helping hand or two. I pulled down my skirt slowly and left on my bright red panties. I was sitting on a chair tempting Patrick as he sat nervously on the tiny hotel couch. I never took my heels off as they gave me a sense of control and power—sexual security blanket. Plus, they just looked plain old hot!
I took my glass of wine and poured it slowly down my nipples, it ran down my stomach until it dripped inside my panties. Little by little I pulled off my girl-gear to reveal my soaking wet lady-parts. I had a landing strip between my legs that clearly defined my magic button. I put on a show and spread my legs over both sides of the chair to give Patrick a full view of my treasured goods. I started playing with my girl parts to tease him into wild abandon, as I dangled his desires with the tip of my finger. I circled my fleshy pink entrance into happiness and gave him a visual of where his ultimate destination would be.
Patrick took his shirt off and walked over to me. He grabbed my hand and led me over to the warm bed. He had a loving way about him as he touched me. I adored the fact that he was a perfect gentleman. He started kissing me as if I were the last woman he would ever taste. I could tell it had been a long time since he had touched a woman. Amazingly, Patrick never took his jeans off the entire time. He intently focused on my body until I was too weak to withstand another quiver. I quickly fell asleep beside my new seductive friend.
The next morning, the sun peeked through a tiny crack in the hotel curtains, and I was awakened by its warmth on my face. I tiptoed into the shower, trying my best not to stir Patrick from his quiet slumber. The luxurious shower heated my skin until I was in a warm, comfortable haze. I closed my eyes to soak up the memories from the night before. I watched the soap melt away until I saw two huge, soft hands grabbing my breasts. Patrick and I kissed, with steamy water pouring all over our faces. He picked me up and laid my wet body down gently on the slippery bathroom floor. It was finally Patrick’s turn to be inside me. Patrick went right to work on me like his loins had been locked up for years. I was deliciously tangled up in Patrick’s beautiful man-vines. He dug his face firmly into my neck as every inch of him slowly melted into me. Patrick deeply unearthed every womanly cell in my entire body. He was a sexual sleeper with a stallion inside him that could rival the best of them. Luckily for me, his patience for being in second place all night had finally grown tired by the morning.
He thrilled me immensely with his elegant man jewelry. No stud had ever made me feel such a raw passion like that before. He held me down as my body shook from the tiny earthquakes deep inside.
Before we parted ways, we kissed one last delicious time—like longtime sweethearts catching a train. Patrick scribbled down his number, kissed me on the forehead and off he went. I couldn’t help but think that maybe I’d been a dormant cougar for years and Patrick just brought it to the surface. As I closed the door to room 328, I glanced behind me and smiled at the two half-empty wine glasses sitting on the ornate nightstand.
I must have illuminated the entire floor as I headed to the elevator. I was adorning the brightest glow across my red cheeks as I hit the down button. I was able to effortlessly hail a cab as soon as I exited the hotel. “Beautiful Day” by U2 was playing inside the taxi as we drove off, and I could not stop thinking that yes, it was a beautiful day indeed. After that gorgeous whirlwind of a night with Patrick, my newly divorced emotional tank was full. Although, it would have been nice to keep Patrick around a little longer than a typical twenty-four hour panty layover—life had other plans.
Waiting in the airport for my plane to arrive, and soothingly drenched in the afterglow mist from the
night prior, I had a break to consider my life up to that morning. I flat-out realized that I was intrinsically equipped to open a new chapter in my life’s journey—a path beautifully paved with infinite possibilities. Oh, what the heck, I even thought to myself, Forget about becoming a run of the mill cougar. Instead, I just may become a sleek Florida panther, who makes up my own rules, only dates the right men, regardless of their age, and lives a full life, one without any self-imposed limitations. Besides, why settle, panthers are way more stealth and alluring than cougars anyways.
If life has taught me one magnificent thing, it would be that there is always something magical waiting just around the corner—but only if you believe. That’s why I always have a pair of glitter heels hiding deep in the back of my closet—just in case. One never knows when out of the clear blue, a testosterone interlude may delightfully arise.
Love and Laughter,
Ann