with a sigh. “Me too.”
“Do you want the tapes back? I have them in my bedroom.”
“No, you hold onto them. You’re the keeper of my secrets.”
I held my breath then let it all out, letting go the opportunity to tell him about another secret.
As he walked out, I called, “Hey, Henry?”
He spun around. “Yeah?”
“We may need to speed up the three-dates thing.”
“Why?”
I tried a nonchalant shrug. “I just can’t wait that long.”
He thought for a moment then said, “Okay. How about tomorrow night?”
“Looking forward to it.”
“Hey, Elsie?” he called as he walked away, his voice echoing in the hallway.
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
~
On Tuesday afternoon after I’d come home from work, Henry knocked on my door wearing workout clothes.
“What are we doing?” I asked. I looked pointedly at my work clothes then at his attire. For a wild moment, I wondered if he was taking me to the gym but quickly dismissed the thought; that would be a stupid date.
“Go get some sweats on. I’m taking you to Krav Maga.”
“What Maga?” I asked. “That sounds painful.”
He walked right by me and into my bedroom. “Krav Maga. It’s an Israeli fighting style.”
I stopped at the door and watched him going through my closet, choosing a pair of running capri pants and a moisture-wicking shirt. “Why?” I asked.
He handed me the clothes. “One, because the class is usually on Tuesday nights and two, because you didn’t give me much time to prepare.”
“So you’re just going to take me to watch you beat up on other people?”
“No,” he said with a grin. “You get to do some beating up of your own.”
I walked into the room and gave him a pointed look. He just leaned against the jamb with his arms crossed over his chest. “A-hem, I’d like to change,” I said.
“Go on. I’ll wait,” he said with a suggestive grin.
“Speaking of beating up people,” I muttered, pushing him out of the room and locking the door. “I’ll Krav Maga all over your butt if you don’t get out.”
He chuckled on the other side of the door as I undressed. “I’ve seen you naked before, Elsie,” he said. “I’ve seen your breasts fit snugly in the palm of my hands. I’ve seen that ass of yours turn red when I spank it.”
My face burned at his words. I caught a glimpse of myself in the full-length mirror and turned around to look at my butt, curious what shade of red he was talking about.
“And I’ve seen your inner thighs, when I run my tongue along the smooth skin all the way up to…” His words thinned out.
I pressed my head against the door, aching to hear more. But he said nothing. “Henry?” I asked.
“Get dressed, Elsie,” he said with a strained voice. “Or I’m going to break this door down and we’ll never make it to class.”
We made it to class on time. The drive over had been tension-filled, and I might have caught Henry adjusting his pants a few times but he didn’t breathe another word about naked body parts. He seemed to understand that I needed my space and tried to respect my boundaries. Tried being the operative word as the man still took advantage of his uncanny ability to turn me on.
Henry had notified his instructor earlier that he would be bringing a guest and they accommodated me by explaining the principles of the fighting style created in Israel, then performed some basic maneuvers. I practiced some elbow and knee strikes with Henry but I called it quits after a while, feeling guilty that I was keeping him from real training.
I sat on the sidelines, content to watch Henry and the others doing their thing. My eyes were fixed on him as he worked with a partner on punching combos, amazed at his fluidity and speed. He looked in his element as he punched the hand pads, all the while bouncing on his toes. As they changed sides, he looked over to me and flashed me a wide grin that I automatically returned.
After the class he took me back
“Do you want the tapes back? I have them in my bedroom.”
“No, you hold onto them. You’re the keeper of my secrets.”
I held my breath then let it all out, letting go the opportunity to tell him about another secret.
As he walked out, I called, “Hey, Henry?”
He spun around. “Yeah?”
“We may need to speed up the three-dates thing.”
“Why?”
I tried a nonchalant shrug. “I just can’t wait that long.”
He thought for a moment then said, “Okay. How about tomorrow night?”
“Looking forward to it.”
“Hey, Elsie?” he called as he walked away, his voice echoing in the hallway.
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
~
On Tuesday afternoon after I’d come home from work, Henry knocked on my door wearing workout clothes.
“What are we doing?” I asked. I looked pointedly at my work clothes then at his attire. For a wild moment, I wondered if he was taking me to the gym but quickly dismissed the thought; that would be a stupid date.
“Go get some sweats on. I’m taking you to Krav Maga.”
“What Maga?” I asked. “That sounds painful.”
He walked right by me and into my bedroom. “Krav Maga. It’s an Israeli fighting style.”
I stopped at the door and watched him going through my closet, choosing a pair of running capri pants and a moisture-wicking shirt. “Why?” I asked.
He handed me the clothes. “One, because the class is usually on Tuesday nights and two, because you didn’t give me much time to prepare.”
“So you’re just going to take me to watch you beat up on other people?”
“No,” he said with a grin. “You get to do some beating up of your own.”
I walked into the room and gave him a pointed look. He just leaned against the jamb with his arms crossed over his chest. “A-hem, I’d like to change,” I said.
“Go on. I’ll wait,” he said with a suggestive grin.
“Speaking of beating up people,” I muttered, pushing him out of the room and locking the door. “I’ll Krav Maga all over your butt if you don’t get out.”
He chuckled on the other side of the door as I undressed. “I’ve seen you naked before, Elsie,” he said. “I’ve seen your breasts fit snugly in the palm of my hands. I’ve seen that ass of yours turn red when I spank it.”
My face burned at his words. I caught a glimpse of myself in the full-length mirror and turned around to look at my butt, curious what shade of red he was talking about.
“And I’ve seen your inner thighs, when I run my tongue along the smooth skin all the way up to…” His words thinned out.
I pressed my head against the door, aching to hear more. But he said nothing. “Henry?” I asked.
“Get dressed, Elsie,” he said with a strained voice. “Or I’m going to break this door down and we’ll never make it to class.”
We made it to class on time. The drive over had been tension-filled, and I might have caught Henry adjusting his pants a few times but he didn’t breathe another word about naked body parts. He seemed to understand that I needed my space and tried to respect my boundaries. Tried being the operative word as the man still took advantage of his uncanny ability to turn me on.
Henry had notified his instructor earlier that he would be bringing a guest and they accommodated me by explaining the principles of the fighting style created in Israel, then performed some basic maneuvers. I practiced some elbow and knee strikes with Henry but I called it quits after a while, feeling guilty that I was keeping him from real training.
I sat on the sidelines, content to watch Henry and the others doing their thing. My eyes were fixed on him as he worked with a partner on punching combos, amazed at his fluidity and speed. He looked in his element as he punched the hand pads, all the while bouncing on his toes. As they changed sides, he looked over to me and flashed me a wide grin that I automatically returned.
After the class he took me back
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