A Dirty Weekend by Jeanette C.

The plane left the ground and she watched the city laid out before her , like diamonds on a black velvet cloth. She was flying to meet Him, this was to be their first meeting. She was nervous, not the kind of nervous where you twitch and are agitated but that butterflies in the stomach with anticipation nervous.

They were meeting halfway, a dirty weekend. A romantic adventure in the busy bustle of the crowded city, anonymous in that nobody knew them there.

He was waiting at the airport, the plane was late. He looked confident and relaxed and she instantly felt at ease. He kissed her firmly and put his hands around her wasp waist. He steered her towards the luggage collection point and said “Wonderful to see you darling, you are exactly as beautiful as I pictured you. “ She smiled.

He was as handsome as she was pretty and the chemistry was instant. His dark eyes winked at her mischievously. “I’ve booked us into the Plaza Hotel, we can take a cab.”

The conversation was cool in the cab, but the atmosphere was sizzling. He placed his hand on her leg and slowly moved up, tracing a delicate line. A delighted smile as he discovered she wasn’t wearing underwear, this was going to be a great weekend. The cab driver peered at them in the rear view mirror and the Man just look back and nodded at him to drive on.

It was raining when they arrived at the hotel. The cab driver was paid, and then stood with an umbrella and He opened her door and helped her out of the cab. The very helpful and very well tipped cabbie carried the luggage, such as it was, a small overnight bag.

He signed them in while she perched on the edge of the lobby seats, her creamy white legs delicately crossed beneath her slim fitted black skirt. He smiled and steered her to the lift, key in hand. The cabbie dutifully followed carrying her luggage. He opened the door and turned and gave the cabbie an extra tip and closed the door firmly.

She disappeared into the bathroom. He heard the shower running and ordered room service to send up some champagne. He lit some candles in the room and opened the curtains to admire the city view. Sydney was magical at night and the harbour bridge shone in the moonlight.

The champagne arrived just as she was blow-drying her hair. The sweet smell of her perfume wafted out under the bathroom door, making the night air intoxifying. He was almost dizzy with anticipation. He removed his tie and jacket. She came out of the bathroom in a long black satin gown. He felt breathless, her skin glowed with the warmth of the shower, the room was filled with her presence and the sexual tension was tangible.

It was indeed a magical night. There’s something about two people being alone in a crowd of millions. The ability to hide from the world in a city is far easier than if one were to go to some remote location. The weekend seemed supercharged by the city and the energy of people going about their daily lives oblivious to what was going on in the upper floors of the hotel. There is a great deal more to magic than slight of hand.