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Passionate sexual encounters on a date.

At least, he better not be.

He just appreciates them. Nothing wrong with that. I just wish he'd show me a little appreciation right about now.

"Ma'am?"

"What?" I answer absently as I stare at them through the glass. "Oh, just a second...."

And just as I decide to go out there, he waves goodbye and saunters through the glass doors, up to the desk, smiling at me. My eyes narrow slightly, but not wanting to demonstrate jealousy, I quickly paste my smile back on, hoping it looks authentic. "This gentleman here wants to know if he can help you..."

God, someone shut me up.

"I'm sure he does."

We drop our stuff on the king sized bed and I'm out the door like a shot, before he can tease me any more than he already has. I really need a break here. Thank God we're on the first floor; I really don't want to be alone in an elevator with him right now. There's just no telling what he'd come up with.

We're seated in the restaurant, white linen napkins, crystal goblets, three each...(O God, why didn't I read that etiquette book?), several forks, underdressed....shall I go on? At least I had a dress on.

A waiter wearing a tux that probably cost more than my pure bred Maltese did walks up, and asks him if he'd like to see the wine list. Neither of us drinks wine, so I'm safe there and he declines, but orders a drink for each of us. Posser's Dark and Coke for him, Chevas and water for me. He remembered! Cool!

Two of the glasses are swept away, and the remaining ones are filled with water. Saved again.

Now, about all these forks...He looks at me grinning from ear to ear, probably because he doesn't think it's appropriate to actually laugh out loud again, and my eyes lower in respect, of course, (nod nod wink wink) taking advantage of the situation to try to solve the utensil mystery. Do I go from the outside in or the inside out? Straining to remember what Julia Roberts did in "Pretty Woman", all I can think about is escargot flying across the room.

The waiter returns with our drinks and inquires if we'd like an appetizer, and hell, I haven't even opened my menu yet! And if you can believe this, (I couldn't, I almost peed my pants, make that my non-pants again) he says to me, "Do you like escargot, kitten?"

"No, thank you," I whisper.

As he peruses his menu, I stare blindly at mine, hoping to God he doesn't order an appetizer. Knowing I won't be able to swallow more than three bites of my entree', I sure as hell ain't gonna be able to eat much more.

Dinner went more smoothly than I'd hoped, even though I didn't eat alot. The salad was very good. Tender spring greens with bleu cheese and pecans of all things! A nice balsamic vinagrette dressing...yum! He sure was able to put it all away, though. His appetite for things, ALL things, seems hearty and healthy. O God....

Back in our room, I get very nervous and I tend to babble when I get nervous. (You mean, you haven't noticed this? blink)

"You know," I began, "we should have probably gotten separate rooms. I mean, after all, you probably wish you had a little privacy right about now." Which translated to, "O my GOD! What have I done! Have I lost my mind? I am alone in a hotel room with a freak who likes to spank women!!!"

I'm still standing by the door as I say this, just in case he whips out a butcher knife or something, and he takes a seat on one of the two cushy chairs on either side of a little round table, removing his shoes.

"Would you like me to get another room? Would you feel more comfortable if I did?"

"N...no, of course not. I was just thinking of your comfort."

Lesson #1. A submissive does not a wimp make.

Noticing that I'd have to walk past him in order to take the other chair, I choose instead to sit on the bed. As soon as I sit down, I jump back up, realising that that probably wasen't the smartest place to sit at the moment. I grab my suitcase, flip it over and unzip it.

"I thought you said it was packed to the gills."

"Huh?"

"Your suitcase.

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