I had a little extra time before an appointment in town several years ago, and I had arranged to meet Suzanne at a Starbucks near her office.
The Red Line was especially jammed on the way in, and way too crowded for another ballet-flats-and-fishnets sighting.
But I knew Suzanne would make up for that. She enjoys feeding my fetish.
Suzanne and I used to work in the same office, where we discovered that we share an obsession with hosiery.
Though we’re each totally committed to our partners, we have very active fantasy lives that we’ve managed to synchronize very nicely.
But these fantasy lives are just that –fantasies. We long ago set boundaries for our play.
This morning, she was wearing black patent ballet flats with nude pantyhose. I knew she knew about my fetish. She has the same one.
The Starbucks was crowded, but we found a small table in the cramped seating area.
Suzanne positioned herself to give me an exquisite view of her stockinged legs and flats. I pretended to text on my BlackBerry as I snapped a photo of the lovely tableaux that she discreetly presented to me, ankles demurely crossed. All the while we talked about work and friends.
To anyone watching, it was an ordinary conversation; to us it had an intensely erotic subplot.
We finished our coffee, stood up, and hugged goodbye before putting on our coats.
“Stay in touch, Nick” Suzanne said.
We headed back to work, down Atlantic Avenue in opposite directions.