The Fantasy Read online

  The Fantasy

  Nicole Ryan

  The following is a work of fiction and a product of the author’s imagination. Any semblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental. Copyright©Nicole Ryan 2013. All rights reserved.

  I slid my hand down my husband’s firm chest, his breath deepened slightly, but as I slid my hand down further, and over his soft penis, he stirred. I grinned and drug my nails up his thick, sculpted thigh before I brought it back down to his penis again, he was already hard and I tipped my face up to smile at him before sticking my head under the covers and taking him into my mouth. He moaned softly, arching his hips from the mattress, I slid my hands down them as I felt the first salty droplet spread on my tongue. His strong hands cupped my breasts and squeezed them as I worked on him quietly, and when he came, I quickly swallowed, and climbed up to kiss him softly. He wrapped his arms around me, crushing me to his body, and kissed my nose before rising from bed and getting into the shower.

  I headed downstairs after using the bathroom, as I went from room to room I opened the curtains and let the beautiful sunshine flood the house. I started a pot of coffee, and made some toast before going about my normal morning routine.

  “Tiffany!” I called to my thirteen year old daughter, hoping that she could hear me over her thumping music as I slipped her cellophane encased sandwich into her lunch box.

  The music switched off quickly and I heard her delicate dancers feet fly across her bedroom above me, and then her feet were bounding down the stairs as she flew to the refrigerator. I handed her lunch to her, and she quickly kissed my cheek as she poured a glass of the fresh orange juice I’d just made.

  “Remember you’re going to Nana’s after school today.” I said as I sipped my coffee.

  “Yes, I know.” She rolled her eyes as she sat next to me, sliding her glass across the granite countertop, like I’d asked her not to a thousand times.

  My husband Charles walked into the kitchen then, his dark suit clashing with the bright kitchen. I handed him his steaming travel cup of coffee and he kissed my forehead. I closed my eyes, these days I relished in any touch that he gave me.

  “Happy Anniversary.” His low voice crawled over my skin.

  “Happy Anniversary.” I replied, and the contact was over, too soon.

  “Can I have ten dollars?” Tiffany asked Charles.

  “Ten dollars for what?” He asked as he tied the tie about his freshly shaven neck.

  “Nana lives close to Claire, and she and I were going to go see a movie tonight.” Tiffany replied as she shoveled a spoonful of Honey Comb into her mouth, one ear bud in her ear while the other dangled lazily at her chest.

  “Sure.” Charles said as he fished a ten out of his wallet.

  “Thanks Daddy.” She said scooping her backpack up. “Happy Anniversary you guys, have fun tonight.” She leaned up on her tip toes to kiss Charles, and then came around the bar to kiss my cheek.

  “Thank you sweetie, have a good time with Claire, tell her mother I said hi.” I called as she ran out to catch the school bus.

  I turned my attention back to Charles, he was rushing about the kitchen, getting his cell phone and other various electronic devices gathered up for the day. He stopped suddenly and turned to look at me.

  “So we’re meeting at eight tonight then?” He asked as he put his jacket on.

  I nodded and slipped off the breakfast barstool and picked up his briefcase. I handed it to him and kissed the corner of his mouth softly.

  “Thank you.” He said, running his knuckled down my cheek ever so briefly before turning and inspecting his image in the mirror beside the front door.

  “Have a good day.” I said as he opened the front door.

  “I will.” He said, “See you at eight.” He kissed my forehead again, and I closed and locked the door behind him.

  I don’t really know when this distance between us formed. We still loved each other, were devoted to one another, we even had sex three or four times a week still. But there was a routine feel to it, as if we were simply going through the motions of life, in a perpetual re-peat, instead of living it day by day. Charles and I had met in college, we got married after only a year of being together and less than six months after that, we were pregnant with Tiffany. Neither of us had wanted any more children, and I had stayed home taking care of Tiffany while Charles worked at his father’s firm. I devoted all of my time to keeping the house clean, and taking care of Tiffany. I always had dinner on the table at five thirty in the evening, about a half hour after Charles got home from work, and I made sure that I went down on him at least once every three months, simply because I knew how much he loved it.

  There was a time when Charles and I were more passionate about life. There was a time when I would dream all day long while I folded laundry or while I cleaned the bathroom, about having him inside me the night before. I’d be so over worked by the time he’d come home from work that I’d tear his clothes off before he even hung his keys up. It wasn’t that we’d let ourselves go over the years, we were still very attracted to one another, but something was gone.

  The spice? What was it? That feeling of not knowing exactly where your partner is going to place his hand… or the uncertainty of the power of his thrusts and trusting him with your body anyway; that feeling had slowly crept out of our bedroom over the years and although it was peeking in on us each night when we made love, I never invited it back in. I sensed that Charles felt this loss within me, for shortly after I began feeling this way, it seemed as if he began to drift further from me, and eventually we were just at arms distance, and that was how we’d stayed. For the last five years.

  The phone rang bringing me out of my thoughts and I set my cup of tea down on the counter, I glanced at the clock as I lifted the phone from the receiver; almost noon.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, what are you doing for lunch?” My friend Lisa asked.

  “Oh, hey… actually I’m going to the hotel early, I’m going to get waxed and hit the spa for the day after I grab lunch in the café, want to join me?” I asked her.

  “Oh no Jen you go ahead and enjoy your time alone, I totally forgot it was your anniversary weekend! Give me all the juicy details tomorrow.” She laughed.

  “I will.” I laughed, and cradled the phone.

  I rinsed my cup and grabbed my overnight bag. I locked the house up and dialed my mom’s number on the way to my car.

  “Hello?” Her singsong voice called after the first ring.

  “Hey mom.” I said.

  “Oh hi honey, how are you?” She asked, it sounded like she was outside, and I could imagine her in her gardening jeans, gloves and sunhat.

  “I’m good, I’m on my way to the hotel now.” I said as I switched on my headset and pulled out of my driveway, the garage closing slowly.

  “Oh good, this will be lovely for the two of you to have a night together, I don’t know how long it’s been since Tiffany stayed over here.” She sighed. “I wonder if your brother and his wife are going to have a little one anytime soon, I’m not so sure about these teenagers these days.” She kidded.

  I laughed loudly as I waited at a red light. “Thanks mom, I love you.”

  “Love you too honey, have a great time.”

  I smiled as I tucked my headset into my passenger seat and pulled up to the valet. He came around the car and opened my door for me, I popped the trunk before handing him the keys and walking around to take it out, my heels clicking on the asphalt.

  “Let me take that for you ma’am.” A young man to my right said.

  He wore the hotel’s red and gold uniform top with black jeans, deep brown hair gleamed in the spring sunshine above golden brown eyes, he looked like he might be twenty
three or so and I thought that if I’d been ten years younger, I’d have found him quite attractive. I smiled kindly at him and handed him a five dollar bill with a wink, he thanked me and followed a couple steps behind me as I approached the check in desk.

  There was an attractive older blonde woman behind the desk; she held the gray telephone to her ear with her shoulder as her long red nails flew across the keyboard in front of her.

  “Yes sir that is one dozen red roses and a box of chocolates. Thank you. Oh yes not a problem, let me add that to the notes now.” She gave me an apologetic glance as she typed and I smiled reassuringly at her. “Yes sir, have a lovely weekend and we will see you then. Bye-bye.” She hung the receiver up and flashed a smile to me. “I am so terribly sorry; I’m not sure where my co-worker has disappeared to. How may I help you?” She asked.

  “Oh I’m here to check in, Jennifer Sampson.” I said as I dug my credit card out of my purse.

  She clicked away at her keys again, “Ah, yes here we are. Here are your keys, and this is a list of what’s offered at the spa, we also have a gym, and this is your room service menu.” She smiled as she handed me the key to my room and the pamphlets.

  “Thank you so much.” I said.

  I looked around as I walked to the elevator, to my right was the café, it was buzzing with people having lunch, and some were on lap tops, others were simply chatting and having drinks. To my left there were two steps that lead into what looked like a darkened bar, I imagined that it probably didn’t open until later and glanced at my watch, it was twelve thirty. My stomach did a little flip as I realized that in a few hours our night would begin. The young man carrying my bags gestured for me to step into the elevator before him when it pinged and the doors slid open.

  “After you.” His smooth voice was like caramel.

  “Thank you.”

  After I got settled in my room, I made my way back to the café for a quick turkey and spinach sandwich before I wandered around searching for the spa. I’d never been to a spa before, and going several days without shaving to get a wax was annoying, but I’d had it done before and really loved the end result, and I wanted tonight to be perfect. I also got my underarms waxed and sat in a seaweed wrap that left my skin feeling silkier than it had been in years.

  After a relaxing massage and facial I called a big salad and cream of broccoli soup up to my room. I took a warm bath in scented water and slipped into a flattering black dress and black stilettos, I blew my hair into soft waves that framed my face and applied a bold red lipstick with careful black eye makeup, and only a touch of color on my high cheeks.

  I lathered my skin with silky body butter, trying to remember the last time I’d taken so much care, and put so much effort into readying myself for my husband. I shook my head in disappointment. We had always said that we would never stop loving one another. Come hell or high water, no matter what we would always love one another. We swore we would never let the flame die down, and that our sheets would be on fire always because we would never forget how important our sexual connection was to our marriage, and we had done exactly that. Forgotten.

  There was a knock on the door and I looked up confused, not sure who on earth even knew I was here besides Charles. I peered out through the peep hole and saw a bell boy and quickly opened the door.

  “Yes?” I asked, my eyes moving to a small blue Tiffany’s box that was in his palms.

  “From an admirer ma’am.” The guy winked at me and I smiled gratefully as he handed me the box.

  “Thank you.”

  I stared at the box as I closed the door. Tiffany’s. I hadn’t been given anything from Tiffany’s but my engagement and wedding ring set, almost sixteen years ago. I smiled as I took the tiny folded note from under the delicate ribbon.

  I never stopped. I never will stop.

  As long as there is you,

  And as long as there is me,

  Forever and ever, my princess you’ll be.

  Tears burned my eyes and I fanned them with my hand, not wanting to destroy my makeup. I pressed the note to my heart, savoring the written words from a night so long ago. I lifted the blue top slowly, and revealed a delicate white gold ankle bracelet with three tear drop shaped diamonds that dangled like charms. I quickly fastened it on; it was the perfect accent to my short dress. I inspected myself in the mirror, and dabbed on Charles’ favorite perfume before I took my clutch from the table by the door and exited the room.

  I made my way from the elevator, my heels clicking expertly on the glossy floor, when I reached the entrance of the bar, my eyes instantly settled upon my husband’s broad shoulders. He sat at the bar his back turned to me; a finished plate of what I knew would only be steak and salad, and a Rogue beer was pushed out in front of him. To his left was a young blond woman, he was angled in her direction, slightly, her thin straight hair was swept straight back, a thick bump at the crown of her head, and a dark smear of makeup around her eyes. Her laughter tinkled over to me as she placed her fingers on Charles’ arm before letting them float up to the delicate golden chain at her neck.

  I watched his eyes crinkle handsomely at the corners as she said something clever and I wondered how long it had been since I’d flirted with him that way. She leaned forward as he spoke, and animatedly clasped her hands in front of her as he laughed easily and sipped from his beer. A deep twinge of jealousy would have been there several years ago, but now I simply watched, savoring this glimpse of the Charles from my youth, which I felt was so far from me now, though I was only thirty five years old.

  I held my purse in my hands as I gazed at my husband, so easy to laugh, yet a gentleman enough to maintain his distance from her, he behaved exactly how he would have behaved had I been sitting right beside him. I smiled and caught a glimpse of a tall figure moving toward Charles and the woman he was speaking to. The man came up behind her and placed his hand on her back, she leaned back and spoke to him just as animatedly as she had spoke to Charles, gesturing to him and moving her eyes from the man at her side to Charles, and then the man shook Charles’ hand.

  When the couple gathered their things and left Charles alone, I stepped down the two wide steps, and made my way toward where Charles was sitting. I shifted my eyes to different faces quickly scanning them, and landed on a man who sat in the corner of the bar with a young woman in a private booth. He looked to be in his late thirties. Perfect. I studied his face and imagined that he was sitting where Charles was now as I stepped up to the bar and sat delicately perched on the stool to Charles’ right.

  I crossed my left leg over my right carefully, feeling his gaze on my legs as I did so. The young bartender approached me and eyed my cleavage quickly, almost discreetly, and with a hint of admiration. It flared my confidence and I smiled seductively at him.

  “What can I get for you ma’am?” He asked, leaning over the polished black bar, his young features darkened with a tan already.

  “A dirty martini please, light on the olive juice.” I said, placing my clutch beside the napkin and coaster that the bartender placed before me.

  I pretended not to notice Charles as he watched me take a cigarette out of the delicate silver case in my clutch. I never smoked, except when we went out for drinks, and that was seldom, but Charles had mentioned to me before that there was something he liked about watching my lipstick left behind on a cigarette butt that he thought was dark, and sexy. Instead I looked at the man and woman in the booth that I’d noticed before. Sitting here I wasn’t able to see her, but his handsome features, which so closely resembled Charles’, were clear as day to me. I watched him smile at his female companion longingly, and his eyes slid closed in mock pain. I imagined she was sliding her hand up his leg teasing him, and it made me smile to myself.

  “Here you are. Is there anything else I can get for you?” The bartender asked.

  “No, this is good thank you.” I said, sipping the warm alcohol, and setting it on the coaster.

  Charles shifted
beside me, and the bartended replaced his beer with a glass of top shelf scotch. Ah yes, how Charles, I thought. I smiled to myself again, stealing another glance at the man in the booth as I sucked an olive from the skewer in my martini.

  “Hi.” Charles said beside me finally.

  “Hello.” I said quietly, it was easy to just walk in and ignore him, but to speak to him as if I didn’t know him made me feel almost silly, and to think this had all been my idea.

  “You look incredible.” He said, and I looked at him just as his eyes slid to the anklet he’d given me, and he smiled warmly.

  “Thank you.” I said.

  “Care to dance?” He asked me, and I smiled.

  “I don’t dance.” I said, he knew this very well.

  “Oh come on, it won’t kill you.” He said standing and holding his hand out to me.

  “Char-” I started to complain but he shot me a fierce glance that stilled my tongue instantly. He wiggled his fingers and I slid my hand into his, stepping off the stool reluctantly.

  He took me out to the sleek black dance floor and I looked up at him, sliding my left hand on his shoulder as he held my right in his left. He pulled me close, so I was pressed fully against him and began to sway.

  “Charles I can’t dance. You know that.” I whispered, very worried that I would trip or misstep.

  “Don’t look at me remember?” He said. “My name isn’t Charles.” He leaned down to my ear. “And you are not Jennifer, right?” He asked.

  “Right.” I said and shifted my eyes, there were several others dancing around us as the pianist played a slow, sultry jazz tune.

  “Do you like the anklet?” He asked suddenly, almost as an afterthought, and I grinned into his shoulder.

  “I love it.”

  “Good.”

  When the song was over we took our seats at the bar, and the feeling in my stomach had lifted to excitement. I picked up my clutch and left cash on the bar before going back to my room, Charles following just a few steps behind me the entire time. Twice on my way up to my room in the empty elevator, as Charles waited to take the next one up, I thought of calling this whole thing off. But so far it had gone well, and I was having a good time and didn’t feel nearly as silly as I’d thought I would. I was excited to see what he would come up with next.