Chapter 1

1678 Words
            The sun was setting, I could tell from the clear view of my beach house on Shady Blvd.  The tide was in and one could easily see the sun’s reflection on the incoming waves.  The spring air concocted a sweet smell as it mixed with already refreshing ocean breeze.  It was like perfume tickling my nose…             I shook myself awake.  I was lying on my living room couch, which has the perfect view of the beach.  From me, it’s always calming just to watch the crashing waves. There was only one problem, water always gave me these thoughts (mostly about s*x).  But that’s almost a normal thing for me.             I’ll admit, I’m not exactly what most women find appealing to the eyes.  I’m just an average guy, no measurements give to keep my little life personal.  I mean, I’ve never been one to have women throwing themselves at my feet when I halfway clear the door. But don’t think I haven’t had my share of women who are either nice and sweet or one who is after my money (unfortunately for me).  However, I haven’t been with a woman in about 2 sheet long lengths (just to give you an idea, a sheet long length has to be about three months). Yep, a half a year is a helluva long time.             There have been those potentials.  You know the one date wonders who didn’t make the cut.  One girl who I was dating had to move, one girl psychotic (convicted of, dare I say, cutting up her last boyfriend.  He was wrong because he was too rough with her but Damn! Puts a new meaning to the word revenge).  And then, of course, there’s the girl that I want but can’t have.             This girl lives next door to me.  I mean, first she’s a beauty, inside and out.  She has these shiny, smiling eyes, and a beautiful personality that engulfs you from the moment she says, “Hi!” And let’s not get on her smile. It’s captivating. Man!  But I can barely talk when I get around her.  She’s such a lady, you know, the marrying type.  I sometimes get upset with myself when I realize this but yet insist on having these dreams of making sweet love to her.             She knows me too. Oh, now don’t think for a moment that I don’t know what I’m doing.  My game is tight; I can talk to the lady.  I help her in the garden (sometimes I usually just talk to her while she works on the flowers) cut her grass and we even have a talk over coffee in the morning before I go tot my office and she goes to her job at the museum.  We both even favor the same male singer, Eric Benet.  We’re going to his concert (it’s coming soon).             Speaking of Eric, I’m listening to his song on The Best Man soundtrack, “Poetry Girl.”  This song, at least the beginning, reminds me so much of her.   There is a laid back smoothness around her that harnesses this fire that few get to see.  Her voice is silky and I love to listen to her laugh. She even writes poetry, which she recites to me when she wants to test things out. Her shyness would prevent her from doing too much more than that though.             The song, by this time was going off, just as I felt another light breeze, bringing that perfume scent again.  It was intoxicating….Suddenly, I got this feeling that someone else was in the room with me.  My brief question was confirmed by the first notes of the song, “Femininity” also by Eric Benet playing. That song is on Eric’s cd, not on the soundtrack.  My little life then seemed to go with the flow of the song.             “Qui-et-ly a sil-ho-uette ap-proa-ches…”             At that precise point, I saw a silhouette. It was the body of a woman.  In the light, I could see her boy, but her face wasn’t clear.  Her body was clad in a dress (resembling a frock, in a pattern that almost gave a Spanish feel).  As the “vision” came closer, I thought I was dreaming, that is, until she touched me and my body reacted. I felt myself harden instantaneously.  I still didn’t know who this person was.             The lady sat on my lap, in a position where she was facing me and my torso was in between her legs (which were wrapped around my body).  Her hands traced my shoulders and my face.             “Who are you?” I whispered.  I needed to know.             “Your Poetry Lady,” the voice, deep and sultry replied.  I could smell now the perfume which I had mistakenly assumed to be the ocean breeze.             With that, she started to kiss me.  Her taste was a lemon drop, sweet with gentleness and tangy with dark passion.  I found now that the dress, which molded her upper body and fell loosely around her lower, was made of silk.  It heightened my level of excitement to discover that I couldn’t determine where the silk stopped and her skin began. My desire for her pushed my excitement even higher.             This woman, whoever my seductress was, had a technique that drove me wild.  I could feel her wetness draining onto my pants as she sat on me, luring me, placing her lips all over my face and neck. Her tongue followed a trace formation, outlining as if she were a painter with the paintbrush of wonders.  My response, of course, was uncanny and palpable.             Her fingers tickled my chest, teasing, as she tempted me and willed my buttons to come undone.  She took of my shirt and I reached behind her to unzip her dress.  She lifted the piece over her hand to reveal wondrous flesh.  I couldn’t stop touching her. As she continued to caress me, I picked her up from her position on me top of me to place on the couch.  My exploration had began.             I teased her, sucking, licking, touching, caressing, answering her call for me.  She moaned over and over again, calling my name and begging me to “Please, brand her” with love and satisfaction that only I could have provided.  It was only after this did I remove my pants and open the silver wrapper.  I positioned myself to enter because I was going in.             As I pushed my manhood in, I couldn’t think, only wonder if this was a dream, that if in two minutes, I would wake up to find that it was just a more mirage, or even worse, I was in a reverie.  It couldn’t possibly be though.  This is a feeling I had never felt, a draw, a pull, an attraction, so real.  What I felt was indescribable, so good that I almost lot all composure them and there.  But I held on, thrusting in and out until her hips were riding with so much emotion that I had to let go.  Our screams coincided with each other, binding and intertwining until the final wave of pure ecstasy passed over.             I lay on top of her for what seem like forever when she moved under me scared that I’d hurt her I moved.  My enchantress rose from the couch, redressed, and turned to leave.             “Wait,” I said, fearing that I could loose her. “A name, please.”             My temptress halted and turned to face me.  The sun was lowering to darkness now, hiding its face for yet another 8 hours.             “Soon enough,” she said.  She walked off and merged with the darkness.             “I was in a bit of shock, but I’m no fool. I got up, replaced my pants and ran into the direction of her departure.  I just had to know her identity.  I ran down my hall and out the front door. I tried to scan the area with the little light left, but to no avail.  My seductress was gone.             I went down the street some and when I got to the end of the beautiful lady’s yard, I stopped.  I didn’t see anything.  I couldn’t imagine where she could have disappeared to.             “What are you looking for, Playboy?”             I turned to the sound of the Lady’s voice.  I knew it was hear because she’s the only one who calls me that.  I tried to think of something to say to her so that she wouldn’t think “that” but I couldn’t, so I told her the truth.             “A mysterious woman, huh?” she said. “I wanna hear about this.”  So we went in to talk over coffee. After I told her the story, she looked at me.  She then promptly laughed at me.  My little feelings were crushed.  I mean, here I am, sitting half-naked in the kitchen of the most beautiful woman in the world who just happens to be laughing at my experience.  Not that she didn’t look kinda rough herself; she must have just taken a shower, hmmmmm.             “I’m leaving,” I said, standing.  I was hurt.             “I’m sorry, really I am,” she said, standing.  I was walking toward the door.             “Bye.”             “Later,” she said.  I left walking across the grass. “Oh, one more thing.”             “What,’ I replied forcefully.  My ego was bruised and I was gonna let her know.             “I hope you find her.”             I stopped and turned to face her.  No, she didn’t just wish me to go on a dummy mission. “And how, praytell, do you suggest I go that?” I responded to her in my most proper, sarcastic accent.             She laughed again. “Don’t search too hard, the answer could be right under your nose.” Then she went into the house.             Well, see now I was just too through.  My mind was confused, baffled is more like it.  I decided to go find my way home so I wouldn’t end up a missing person taken away by the waves.  It didn’t matter though.  See, I know exactly how my night will be. I’ll spend it fitfully feening and hopelessly horny for the woman who I’ll never know.
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