" I don't think I can handle another one like yesterday," he laughed, but he shut his eyes.I took the silk lounging pants from the bag and draped them over his arm. "You can look now," I said. I'd also removed my top and was bare-breasted.He didn't know whether to look at the pants or me, finally deciding on the pants."These are soft," he said. "What am I supposed to do with them?" Wear them to dinner," I said. "We're dressing for comfort. You may as well do the same." No shirt, huh?" he asked."Nope," I replied. "We don't wear shirts and you don't either."He grinned and said, "Ok."He said he had a hard time concentrating on the food; we told him in a month he wouldn't even notice our nakedness. Nollie explained that the shorts were to protect the furniture, not our virtue, and he laughed. He had one beer with dinner and we adjourned to the living room. We sat on the couch and gave him the chair. The room wasn't too large, and it felt cozy.Nollie said, "Tell us your impressions of. But gosh, he sounded so clinical asking what I did and didn’t like, almost a turn-off, nothing flirty and dirty and decidedly cautious – did I persist, or dismiss him as although too timid. And the questions: had I thought I might have to strip bare, could he touch my bare skin and how would I feel about it? How might my fiancé feel about it all – had I consider his emotions in this venture? Was I seeking a sensual encounter or something altogether more pragmatic? Did I understand what I was really asking him for? At times, I wasn’t sure if I was being interviewed or whether it was him applying for a position. But I came to appreciate there was a rigour and a necessary logic to his questioning and gave clarity to inchoate emotions welling inside me. As our communication evolved he was no longer a stranger but someone I earnestly wanted to invite into my life and if any man was to spank me I wanted him to be the one. Then one day I decided I could wait no longer – it was now or never.
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