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The Raincoat

He was flustered as he waited by the door, clutching a bouquet of flowers and shifting back and forth to keep warm. Sure he was a few minutes later than planned, but did she really have to be so short on the phone when he called to let her know he was there? She was usually the one who was late? a woman?s prerogative, I guess. And what was taking so long for her to buzz him in? He peered into the window to see whether the lobby held any answers.

Was that really her? He saw a tall woman in a long white coat and heels come around the corner. Her hair was down onto her shoulders and she wore red lipstick and eyeshadow. This was not what he was expecting, he searched his memory to try and remember whether they had agreed to go out for a drink but couldn?t recall such a conversation.

She opened the door and turned on her heel before he could even say hello. He mumbled something incoherent as he watched her walk back toward the elevator, following quickly in her wake, still clutching the flowers. As she walked he took in this rather unusual outfit. There was the full radiant hair draping over her shoulders and collar. Then the raincoat, stylishly reaching to just above her knees. He loved her full hips and how the raincoat shifted over them as she marched away. He couldn?t tell what color her skirt was, but she had on pale green stockings and a pair of white heels which reminded him what great legs she had as he watched her thighs and calves proceed down the hallway.

She reached the elevator before him and pressed the button, the doors slid open immediately and she stepped to the back of the car and turned around just as he reached the threshold. He stopped for a moment to take in what was before him. She looked radiant, her face flushed and pink, her eyes sultry, her lips a luscious red. He wasn?t sure what to make of it, but she was clearly making a statement. They had known each other long enough that he had seen her in better and worse times. While she always looked nice for him, she had clearly gone to extra lengths today.

The buzzer jolted him out of his thoughts and he stepped forward into the car to allow the door to close. ?What is going on, dear??, he stammered, ?Did I forget an invitation? You look stunning!? It was the best he could do in the circumstance. She didn?t say a word, just smiled, and looked him straight in the eye as she slipped the loop on her belt and opened her jacket.

No wonder he couldn?t tell what skirt she was wearing? he was stunned to see her standing there in stockings and very little else. Unsure how to react, he dropped the flowers, stepped forward and put his hands on her waist, and then for some reason ? probably not wanting to smear that makeup ? leaned down and took her left breast in his mouth, tonguing and gently biting the hardened nipple.

The door opened, and thankfully there was no one there in the hall. She pushed him out of the way, pulled her jacket closed and marched out of the elevator and down the hall at a brisk pace. He was floored. He could still smell and taste her but could hardly believe what had happened. This was a side of her he had never seen. He gathered himself, picked up the flowers ? they looked as disheveled as he was feeling ? and strode off down the hall to catch her.

By the time he turned the corner she was gone. He got to her door and saw that she had propped it open for him, he cautiously stepped inside and looked around. ?Everything okay, Princess?? he was still totally confused about what was going on. He heard her reply, ?be there in a minute,? oddly it came from the direction of the guest room, not where he thought she might be. He sat down on the arm of the sofa, nervously waiting.

To be honest, she didn?t know what she was doing? definitely winging it, calling on instincts from long ago. It had all started a few weeks ago when she was dealing with the crisis. And the other crisis, and the family intervention, and her relationship with her husband. It all seemed like so much work, the appointments, the calls, the travel, the emotional conversations? it was exhausting. And she seemed to be taking the brunt of it, her body needing an overhaul, sleeping poorly, eating worse. What happened to the idea that family was supportive and husbands and wives adored each other? While she had rededicated herself to making the relationship work, it was clearly going to be a while before they worked through some of the issues.

And what about her? She wasn?t getting any younger, but she still caught men looking her way when she entered a restaurant or sat by the pool. She appreciated the attention, and took the occasional opportunity to flirt. And when she did, she could still feel sexy, still imagine herself as desirable. Instead, she found herself stranded in the northeast in the middle of a cold gray winter, and all of the people she was supposed to be taking care of and ?working on? had abandoned her to their own pursuits.

That?s when she got the text from him, and the offer to stop by for a drink. She knew he would behave, but she also knew he wouldn?t if she gave him permission. Frankly, she was sick of decorating the apartment and cooking for herself, if she was going to decorate and cook it may as well be for someone who would appreciate it. And, judging from past encounters, he could be very appreciative.

So she had conjured up this scene for him, and now the only question was whether she had the courage to go through with it and could keep a straight face. The elevator had gone at least as well as planned. Although she was ticked that he showed up late (usually she was late to be ready, but today she had paced the floor with very little on for a good fifteen minutes), the look on his face was priceless. No doubt he wouldn?t be forgetting that any time soon. And judging from the hunger in his eyes when he sucked on her breast, he had risen to the occasion quite nicely. For her part, as she ran back to the apartment she had been pleased to notice she was a bit aroused herself. Now for the second part of the plan.

He shifted on his feet a few times, replaying the scene from the elevator and trying to burn it into his memory. He strained to hear what was going on in the other room without any success. After a surprisingly short time he heard her nervous voice, ?could you come in here and help me, dear?? He pushed the door open and stepped into the dimly lighted room. It took a few moments for his eyes to take it all in. She was there on the bed, still in the stockings and very little else, holding a tray in her hand with what looked like fruit and some sort of sauce. Her hair and eyes and lips were gorgeous as she watched for his reaction. He stepped to the side of the bed and finally realized she had also covered her pussy in a generous layer of whipped cream. She smiled up at him and whispered, ?I hope you are hungry.?

That did it! He was overcome. He couldn?t believe she had done all this for him. He took the tray, setting it on the side of the bed. Then he sat beside her and gently pushed her hair back off her face, leaning in for a deep long kiss interspersed with a dozen ?I love you?s? and ?You are so amazing?s?. Finally, she pushed him away and said, matter-of-factly, ?I appreciate that, but I believe you have some work to do.?

He dove in with gusto. Starting slowly around the edges and making generous use of the fruit and chocolate sauce, he licked and sucked and savored every bit of the delight. Though the initial sensation had been very cool for her, it definitely heated up as he proceeded until they were both a sticky mess. Finally he started to concentrate on the task at hand and within a few minutes she had a wonderful wet and sticky orgasm.

Much to his delight, she returned to her controlling demeanor and instructed him to disrobe. He complied and she situated him on the somewhat sticky towel she had spread over the middle of the bed. He started to lean toward her for a kiss and she admonished him, ?Shhhh, lay back and be still.? He watched as she dripped the warm sauce all over his cock and balls. ?Mmmmm, I much prefer caramel to chocolate,? and with that she proceeded to slowly pursue every last drop of caramel sauce, barely acknowledging his moans and entreaties.

When she was finished (and he was about to explode) she sat back and looked down at him, ?I think that will do just fine,? she took a condom off the bedside and stretched it onto him as he shuddered. Then she got up and walked around the bed to the other side. There, she climbed onto the bed next to him on all fours and turned her ass to him, looking back over her shoulder, ?I think I want you from behind today.? He pulled himself up and looked down at the display, her beautiful feet and strong calves, the way the stockings accentuated her thighs and framed her ass. He put his hands on her hips and leaned into her, taking a deep breath and then tonguing her ass and pussy, cleaning up the remnants of the whipped cream delight. He straightened, and let go with a slap on her right cheek, then leaned forward and buried his cock inside of her. She groaned and almost fell forward with the sensation, then straightened and pushed back to take all of him.

The sex was good, though not as eventful as the foreplay. They continued to play in the shower afterwards, laughing and joking with each other. Something about her efforts completely changed the tone of the afternoon, they lounged on the sofa wrapped in towels, munching on fruit and cheese, and occasionally indulging in a gratuitous grab, or slap, or suck, alternating between passion and playfulness.

When he finally left, she watched him walk down the hall, grateful for the kind of friendship they shared. She reflected on the joy of letting go as she slowly returned to the trappings of mother, wife, sister, daughter. It had been nice to be just a princess for a little while.

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