She was such a delight to dine with, I was enamored with the entire situation. I leaned in and nibbled on her ear. “I am the luckiest man here, to be sharing a meal with you.”
She sighed, leaning closer to me. “I believe I am the lucky one. You are a very interesting, very handsome man. You are making all the ladies jealous, pouring all your attention on me.”
She turned to me, locking eyes. “Are you single Jack? Or do you hide your ring when you travel. Like your pretty boss.”
“I’m single.” I assured her, not wanting to go into detail about my living arrangements.
“That is hard to believe. You would not stay single long, here.”
“How is it you are still single? Or am I wrong?” I asked her
“By choice. My family entertains some ideas of who I should marry, but I prefer not to, at this time,” she said cautiously.
“But perhaps someday?” I asked.
“With the right one, perhaps. But it is difficult.”
I didn’t want to pry any further. “The world is a strange place,” I said softly.
“It is strange, but it can be wonderful.”
I smiled for her, stroking her cheek. “Yes it can. And rarely more wonderful than this.”
She took my hand and softly kissed my fingers. “Yes.”
The dancing troupe appeared on stage and we were entertained by a flurry of artists as the time flew by.
After the main artist finished, several people left our table, and everyone moved down, while strangers took their seats. Pablo patted me on the shoulder, and I was embarrassed that I hadn’t spoken two words to him since the appetizer. “Tomorrow morning, Jack. Ten o’clock. We leave for Zaragoza.”
“I’ll see you then, Pablo, goodnight,” I told him.
He answered, “Good luck,” and gave me a wink.
I turned to Ana Isabel, who smiled knowingly.
“Damn woman, must you know everything?” I asked.
She smiled beautifully. “Yes, I must.”
“How long does this party last,” I asked her, massaging her neck once more.
“We can leave anytime. It continues for another two hours,” she answered.
Across from us, Chris was standing, with the help of her two attentive hosts. She leaned toward me. “We’re headed out. I’ll see you at breakfast in the morning?” she asked.
“See you then,” I told her.
Did that mean she didn’t want to see me tonight, or was she covering her tracks? I guess only time would tell.
Ana Isabel was still watching. Taking in everything.
“Would you like to stay?” I asked her.
“Only if you want to,” she answered.
I stood and pulled her chair out. She rose and took my hand leading the way out of the crowded restaurant, while newcomers fought for our choice seats.
On the street, I pulled her close, walking up to the main avenue. “Do you need to go home soon?”
She smiled for me, her hand reaching down and sliding into my back pants pocket. “I can stay out a while longer,” she offered. “What did you have in mind.”
I hope that meant the same in Spain as it did back home. “Come with me to my hotel, I don’t want this evening to end yet.”
“As you wish,” she said hugging me close.
At my hotel I was nervous, inviting her upstairs. Yet she came along easily enough. With the door closed, my sweet guest turned to me waiting.
I leaned down, nuzzling her neck, holding her in my arms. I caressed her skin, and ran my hands down her smooth sides. My kisses were falling around her face, on her neck and cheeks. I worked up the courage and held her face still while I slowly pressed my lips against hers, gently nudging the tip of my tongue against her lips, parting them. I brushed against her perfect teeth, and was rewarded with feeling her tongue fleetingly meet mine.
I don’t know what it was about this woman, no child this one, but she had me trembling in need. The extended flirting all evening had my every nerve on edge, and I pulled her closer, exploring her mouth with mine.
After a couple of minutes she slowly pulled away, smiling. “It is the Hawaiian in you. That is no American kiss.”
“Oh really? And how many Hawaiians have you kissed?” I teased.
“Not enough apparently,” she laughed.
She pulled away, and sat on the edge of the bed, picking up the phone and calling downstairs for Champagne. It would be interesting explaining that one on my expense report.
She patted the bed at her side and I sat down while she reached down to remove her heels.
“Allow me, please,” I told her, pulling her legs into my lap, and removing first one, and then the other shoe from her poor feet. She was wearing stockings and I massaged her feet while she leaned back against the pillows and sighed.
“The things we women go through to look good for our men,” she said, while I kneaded the soles of each foot.
I turned and rubbed her ankles and worked up to her calves, still a few inches below the tightly fitted dress bottom. I was thorough and attentive, in no hurry, and was surprised by the knock on my door.
I let the waiter in, with a tray and bottle of bubbly on ice, and signed the bill, adding a 10 euro tip. The total was surprisingly reasonable. I expected a Dom Perignon, or perhaps Perrier-Jouet Fleur, but the heavy bottle with a simple white label, surprised me.
“One of our finer Cavas,” Ana Isabel explained, “a match for any champagne in the world. That year is particularly fine.”
I popped the cork and poured us each a glass, which I tasted. I have little knowledge of wines, and less of champagnes, but the taste was clean, very little sweetness, and a blend of fruity flavors that was perfect for the moment.
“I wish they had a ’99, but that will have to wait for another day.”
Ana Isabel stood, and finished her glass. “I hope you don’t mind if I get a little more comfortable.” She smiled and turned away from me, allowing me to unzip her dress. She eased it down her body, folded it over her arm, and placed it on the chair. She turned back to me, and smiled, knowing full well how good she looked, and what she was doing to me.
She had on nearly see-through black panties and bra. Intricate designs covered the bra, with a lacy scalloped top, and embroidered pink roses between her pert breasts, and where the strap met the cup on one side. The rose motif was continued on the panties, which were a little less transparent in front, with lacy sides embracing her hips. The garter around her waist ended just above the panties, hiding nothing, with long straps reaching several inches down her thighs to hold up her sheer stockings. The stockings alone probably cost at much as my whole wardrobe.
I was dumb-struck. She seemed to be waiting for a comment but I was helpless before her stunning sexiness. “Words. There are no words…” was all I could mumble.