Girlfriend Nostalgia: Lisa
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
It’s a bit of a stretch to consider Lisa a “girlfriend.” But less than twenty-four hours with her left a lifelong impression. I flew into Miami to go to the wedding of some old friends. I had introduced the couple a decade earlier and they were finally getting hitched. I arrived the day before the nuptials and went to the rehearsal dinner soon after my arrival. There I met Lisa. Or that’s where I thought I met Lisa. She came up to me as if we were old friends, called me by name, and leaned in for a kiss. She must have read the blend of shock and confusion on my face. “You don’t remember me?” she asked with disbelief. I did not. Which was remarkable for more than one reason. First, she was beautiful. Long dark hair, the fine features of a model, pale blue eyes, tall, fit. Second, I rarely forgot even the most passing of female acquaintances. Hell, to this day I remember the face and smile of a woman with whom I shared six seconds of eye contact on a subway train thirty years ago. And third, Lisa indicated that we had met more than once and had extended conversations. She went so far as to describe a party at our mutual friend Sarah’s apartment. She told me what I was wearing. She repeated a joke I had Ankara bayan escort told. I remembered the party. I remembered nothing of her. It was bizarre; almost frightening. I ran to Sarah thinking that this gorgeous woman was gas-lighting me. Sarah confirmed that Lisa and I had indeed met and that she even had a bit of a crush on me. “Well, maybe one of you should have let me know!” I complained. I went back to my motel confused but intrigued. The next day I went to the ceremony. I was excited for my friends, a little nervous about a reading I had to do, and quite distracted at the prospect of seeing Lisa. And see her I did. A lot of her. She walked down the aisle to the bride’s side and every eye in the chapel was on her. She was in a full-length silver evening gown. It was like a cross between a Grecian toga and a slip. If Sarah herself wasn’t so beautiful in her own stunning wedding dress, Lisa would have committed the sin of upstaging the bride.At the reception she asked me to dance. She pulled me close and encouraged my hand to hold her low. The plunging back of the dress meant my hand rested directly against the skin of the flute of her lower back. Escort bayan Ankara Her nipples poked prominently through the silk that barely covered her cleavage. She told me how she had found the dress in a secondhand shop in Vegas. She mentioned someone’s name that I did not recognize. “Oh yes, she designed many of the dresses worn by Bacall, Rita Hayworth, all of them!” Lisa elaborated. I followed along amidst the distraction of her body against me, while trying not to step on her high-heeled sandal-clad toes. “This dress makes me feel so damn sexy,” she went on. “It’s like I’m out here naked in front of everyone, but somehow sexier than that.” I understood exactly what she meant. She was making me crazy. I indecently pressed my hard-on against her belly. She indecently pressed back. I had a flash of déjà vu. Maybe I did remember her. It could not have felt more like a dream. We finished a song and headed over to the bar. On the way, Lisa dropped a bomb. “Oh, hey, this is my husband,” she said, introducing me to a perfectly nice and handsome guy. That felt odd, but it got odder fast as she blatantly continued to flirt with me in front of him. She asked Bayan escort Ankara what he was doing after the party and what his schedule was for the following day — making it clear that she would have her own agenda. I was completely thrown. I was turned-on to the point of frenzy, but felt reticent at the same time. The poor guy nodded along, uncomfortably. I kept my mouth shut and ordered drinks. I delivered champagne for the three of us, but only Lisa was left. Lisa pulled me back onto the dance floor and between swirls, I saw her husband slump out the door. The reception wound down. I gave my final congratulations to the happy couple, shook hands with the parents and the best man, and eyed the door. Lisa was close on my heels. “So, hey, Andrew left. You mind giving me a ride home?” Lisa asked. Or, those were the words she spoke. Everything in her voice and manner said, “Want to take me to bed?” I never bothered to clarify. I grabbed a bottle of champagne from behind the bar, walked out with her on my arm to my rental car, and drove straight to my motel. I poured us each a glass of bubbly in the sad plastic courtesy glasses provided by the motel. Lisa sat on the TV stand/dresser. Her long lovely legs were on display as they pierced the slit of the gown. The three-inch heels of her strappy sandals hung a foot above the carpet. I stood awkwardly, leaning against the door. We didn’t say a lot. There was a lot of eye contact with the occasional drunken, spontaneous giggle. What were we waiting for?
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32