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The Lustrous Call (Collaboration w/Braeden Michaels)

Lustrous Call

Aches for your lush voice

Tapping fingertips

Waiting beside the phone

Adoring the inflection

 

Fingers dancing

Summoning desire

Charming and playful

Feeding the fire

 

Undo the button

Manhood rising

Captivated by your desires

Lustrous glides

 

Dark greed is blinding

Wet need is rising

Wanton lips quivering

Begging for release

 

Intoxicating moans

Itching for the taste

Dripping wet

Fingers inserting

 

Whisperings trailing

Desires mounting

Oh rigid bounty

Spill overboard

 

Mesmerizing voice

Sleek strokes

Wicked fantasy

Watching the eruption

 

My Best Friend’s John

My summer was quite busy that year. Between the marathon weekends at Dick’s and my busy work schedule, I was constantly on the move. Trying to balance it all was challenging, but I loved the rush of everything.

And I will let you in on a little secret…I loved being fucked every night. 

The escort business was booming. I had a huge clientele and my nights were booked, sometimes weeks in advance. I was in such demand that I rarely had to meet with new clients. But, on occasion, I asked Gina to book with me new people. I loved that feeling. The nervous twinge of meeting a new lover for the first time made me wet with anticipation.

In spite of my booked schedule, I managed to make time for friends and family. I would carve out time with my best girlfriends. Most of them had no idea what I was doing. They would have been appalled at the thought of having sex for money. Funny thing, most of them were married, stay at home wives…having sex with their husbands for money. Same thing, different label. One my best friends, Paula, knew all about what I did. She was open-minded and loved hearing my naughty stories.

She was a gorgeous, raven-haired woman. Tall and curvy, she was beautiful. We met at work (my legit day job). She was new to the area and had recently relocated with her long-term boyfriend, leaving her hometown in North Carolina, to be with him. I just loved Paula. We were fast friends. She was my safe space. I could tell her anything, and I told her everything. Not long after, she and John purchased a house, and then they broke up. They had this volatile, on-again/off-again relationship. Much like Sid and Nancy, but without the heroin. After this last breakup, Paula met a great guy and decided to get married. And just like that…they did.

I was at home on a Sunday afternoon, spending the allotted time with my parents, when I heard the faint buzz of my pager from the bedroom. I knew it was Gina. But my first call was not until 10:00 pm. It was only 4:30. I wondered if they’d canceled. I called her as soon as I could.

“Hey Gina, what’s up?” I asked.

“Not much, doll. You up for taking on a new client?” she asked.

“When?” I asked.

“He’s asked for someone to be over around 7:00. It’s a house call. I know the area. It’s a nice neighborhood. You may get yourself a new regular…”

She knew how to sell me. Seriously, I learned most of my sales techniques from Gina. She was the master.

“Sure! I will go.”

She was pleased. She said, “I think you’ll like this guy. He sounds like your type.”

I laughed and said, “Really? So what is my type?”

“You like them dirty. I get the feeling you’re in for a fun night. Call me and check in when you get there.”

At 7:00, I pulled into up to the house. It was a nice 2-story Cape Cod with a large privacy fence in the back. I noticed the gray Mercedes in the driveway with North Carolina plates. I instantly thought of Paula…she was from North Carolina. Interesting.

I walked up to the door and rang the bell.

I was not prepared. Simply, not prepared. 

Standing in front of me was John, Paula’s ex. There was a look of recognition in his eyes and then I watched his lips curl into a most sinister grin. I didn’t know whether to be excited or scared.

“Why, hello there. Don’t I know you?” he smirked. SHIT! This had never happened before…being on a call with someone I knew!  I was at a loss for what to do…what to say…so I smiled back as I stepped into his house, brushing by him. I looked back with a naughty grin and said, “You do, John. But I think you are about to get to know me on a much deeper level.”

And just like that, I set the tone.

Once inside, I called Gina to check in. There was no way for me to tell her the situation, as he was standing right there. I just did my typical check-in and before I hung up, he asked to speak with her.

He stared at me as I gave him the phone.

“Hello, Gina. Yes…everything is fine. It’s very good. I would actually like to book an extra hour, if that’s possible.”

Gina asked to speak with me and I consented, so it was set. I was going to spend two hours there. With my best friend’s ex-boyfriend. Who was paying me as an escort. You truly cannot make this shit up. 

We retired to the couch for small talk. I was more nervous that usual. This guy actually knew me…my real name…where I worked. I wondered if he would tell anyone. My mind was racing. He could clearly see that I was uneasy.

“Tess, don’t worry about anything. This is a transaction between us. It’s business. I am not going to tell anyone, and I know you won’t say anything. Relax. It’s good.” He stroked my face and it put me at ease.

“Now take off the fucking skirt, you pretty little whore. Your sweet ass is mine for two hours.”

(To be continued)

house call1

(Photo credit, Pinterest)

Stay Tuned…

A few weeks ago, my dear friend and fellow blogger, the lovely Lady G, recommended a collaboration, of sorts. She commented that due to our similar sultry subject matter, perhaps Braeden Michaels and I should collaborate on something together.

As the resident naughty girl of my neighborhood, I took that suggestion as an open invitation to introduce myself to Braeden, a most talented and mysterious gentleman. He writes with such depth and darkness. Since our demons play so well together, we instantly connected and came up with a little something we think you may like.

Stay tuned…it’s coming.

T and B

 

The Gift

I’m feeling an ache

A longing between my thighs…

It gives rise to the surprise

I’ve been saving.

Sin craving,

Lust escalating.

Fingers strumming,

Moans humming.

Body writhing,

Can’t contain…

Won’t subside.

Oh Lover, please

Please…

Come inside

Your gift is waiting

gift (2)

Dried Flowers

You churned the dirt

And planted the seed

From within

You saw her need

Hidden well

Far below

She longed for air

She longed to grow

At first the garden tended well

No worms, no weeds

No petals fell

She sprouted forth

So alive

Blossoms opened

And she thrived

But after time

It all passed

For without air

She’d not last

No food to nourish

Or sun to shine

Planted in a bed

Wasting time

The stem it droops

Her petals dried

The blossoms fall

The flower dies

It’s too late now

To sow the seed

To water, to nourish

To kill the weed

And looking back

Who’s to blame?

The sun, the earth?

Or the lack of rain?

A Man Named Dick (part 3)

He was standing in front of me and the boyish grin had faded. I recognized the look in his eyes. He was a hedonistic beast enslaved with lust, determined to have his way with me.  He picked me up by my ankles and pulled me over to the edge of the bed.

“Hold your hips up off of the bed, until I tell you to stop.” he ordered. “Up. Up. I want them suspended up. Good. Just like that”

I balanced my hips in the air, slightly off of the bed as he instructed. He then spread my legs open and dropped to his knees pulling my hips into his face. His tongue was experienced and unforgiving as he consumed me. I was at his mercy and he knew it. He held me at an angle where my only choice was to take what he dished out. As much as I wanted to squirm, there was nowhere to run. He had me. In a matter of minutes, oceans of orgasms washed over me. There was no time to recover. He pushed my legs back to my shoulders and pushed himself inside me. All of his ample cock filled me at once. He hooked his arms under mine and held the tops of my feet to my shoulders as he proceeded to savagely fuck the hell out of me.  Just as I was about to reach my edge, he stopped.

He flipped me over to my stomach and took me from behind. I’ve always enjoyed it like that, but he picked up my leg and held my foot on his shoulder. He drove himself in deeper in that position and my legs began to shudder from my impending orgasm.

“You like that don’t you, Tess? I bet you don’t get done like this when that pager beeps, do you?”

I couldn’t even muster a word. I was spilling over the edge as was he. We collapsed from the frenzied fuckfest we’d just had. I looked over at him and the beast was gone. Dick was back, smiling that boyish grin.

“Did you enjoy that, Dick” I coyly asked.

“Of course I did. But the real question is, did YOU enjoy it, Tessa?”

I looked up at him, makeup smeared, hair sweaty, heart racing and said, “Yes. I was surprised by you. I didn’t take you for such a bad boy.”

He smiled and got up from the bed. “Yeah, most people think I am nice guy. And I am, but I have a dark side. Now let’s get dressed and go out.”

WTH? Disco Hell? After all of that?

We arrived at the Red Lion Pub around midnight.  The parking lot was full and you could hear the music from outside. The place was packed. I’d managed to pull myself together  with a quick shower and another drink. My outfit was perfect for the occasion. Dick seemed to like it.  He looked disco-chic, wearing some black pants and a dark blue button down, opened up to his chest. He was sporting a fake gold medallion necklace and totally looked the part. It was fun to dress up like that for a change.

We walked in and went to the bar. Dick ordered us a round of shots.  And another. After all of that sex and no dinner, I was almost drunk.  Dick led me to the dance floor and we starting dancing.

This clean cut boy was just full of surprises. Not only was he a sex machine, but he had some smooth moves. Pretty soon, we were in full swing…like we were in the dance contest on Saturday Night Fever. We never left the dance floor. It was great fun.

We closed down the pub around 3:00 and ventured back to his house.  I was thirsty and starving. And sore. With all of the acrobatic sex and dancing, I felt like I’d just done a P90X (more like a P90-SEX) workout. We’d been so “busy” all night, that we’d both forgotten to eat. He suggested we make breakfast together and I was all for that.

He retrieved some eggs and butter from the fridge for scrambled eggs. He asked me to make them while he put on some coffee and made the toast.  I love to cook, so I was happy to oblige. Just as I finished whisking the eggs, I felt him standing behind me.  His hand ventured up my skirt and he slowly pulled my panties down.

“What about the eggs?” I asked. I knew once we got started, there would be no way I could cook.

“Just keep doing what you are doing, Tessa” he quipped.

So I managed to pour the eggs into the hot pan and finish them. He stood behind me the entire time. I moved the pan to a cool place on the stove and turned to face him.

“The eggs are ready” I said.

“I know. We should let them cool a bit, don’t you think?”

I agreed. I could see that he wanted me right there in the kitchen. I recognized that look in his eyes. I turned back around to make sure I’d turned off the stove and he moved in closer behind me, pulling up my skirt as he unzipped his pants.  I could feel his hard cock touching my back. I wanted him again, badly.

He reached for the stick of butter on the counter. He unwrapped it and began smearing it all over his fingers. I was a bit confused as to what he was doing. I’d experimented with “food” play before, but never with butter.

Before I could figure out what was about to happen, I felt the cold stick of butter on my ass. Was he really smearing butter on my ass? And then he spread my cheeks and rubbed the stick of butter around my hole, fingering it with his slippery fingers. It was unlike anything I’d felt before. The butter was becoming soft in his grip and he slathered some on his cock. Then I got the memo. He was going to take my ass…right then, right there in the kitchen and butter was his medium.

You know, this brings a whole new take on buttering the biscuits…

(To be continued)

in the kitchen-best

(Photo credit, Pinterest)

One Hit Wonders-Hotel Atlanta

It was January 2004.  I’d been invited by my boss to accompany her to a conference in Atlanta.  Translation:  she needed a wingman/sidekick/bad girl to hang out with her at this boring 3-day conference.  I was happy to oblige. I enjoyed any opportunity to let my hair down and sow some oats.

Her name was Jane and she was simply beautiful. She had the facial structure of Angelina Jolie, with dark auburn hair. She was tall and statuesque. Men noticed her. And you put us together with my long dark wavy hair, full lips and hourglass body, and we caused quite a stir. On our first night there, we sat at the hotel bar chatting over happy hour drinks, when we were approached by two older gentlemen.  They sat down with us and struck up a conversation. Before long, we were having dinner with them. They were from Boston, there on business with large expense accounts and even larger…egos.  We grew tired of their posturing and excused ourselves soon after dinner.

We were both tired from the day’s events and retired to our room. Since I was not a paid attendee of the conference (I was just there for Jane) I had to share a room with her.  It was no big deal, as there were 2 queen beds and a bathroom mirror large enough to accommodate us both getting ready at the same time. It was all good. We put on our pajamas, cracked open a bottle of wine and had cocktail confessions. It was like a grown-up sleepover. We laughed and giggled for hours. Jane was just as wild as me.  We shared stories of our escapades, as we finished up the wine and moved on to a fresh new bottle of gin. We were both sauced when Jane spilled an entire drink on her bed.  It was soaked.

“Guess I will just have to bunk up with you tonight!” she exclaimed.  And we laughed and drank some more. It was approaching 2:00 am, when we finally ran out of mixer and decided to go to sleep. She and I said our good-nights and crawled into my bed.  I was beginning to dose off when I felt her hand on me. I had my back to her, but felt her playing with my hair. At first, I didn’t know what to do. I’d been with women at different times in my life, but it had been years…and this was my boss. I began thinking about how she would feel, how she would taste and I slowly rolled over to face her. She looked at me and stroked my face.

“You know me spilling that drink was no accident, don’t you? I’ve wanted you since I hired you. But I don’t want you to do anything that would make you uncomfortable. I just want you to know the door is open.”

And without thought, or hesitation, I leaned over and kissed her soft mouth. I don’t remember the specifics, but I do remember that we flung off the covers and sat up in the middle of the bed kissing while we undressed each other. She pulled me into her body, facing me away from her as she massaged my spot, making me cum almost immediately. I could not wait to taste her as I opened her legs and found that she was dripping wet with anticipation. I made her wait for it, teasing her by kissing her inner thighs, avoiding her sweet cunt, until she could not stand it any longer.  We fucked all night.  No inhibitions. No limits. Insatiable.  We finally collapsed as the sun rose, getting about 2 hours of sleep before we had to wake up. I heard her in the shower when I shuffled into the bathroom for a drink of water.

“Good morning, you.” she said from behind the shower curtain, “how did you sleep?”

“I didn’t get much sleep, but I feel rested,” I replied.

“Yeah, me too.” she snickered.  She soon made her way out of the shower and I jumped in.  We went about our day as if nothing had happened.  There was no awkwardness.  No shame. No difference in how we were than before it happened. I was glad.  I didn’t want there to be any strangeness.

That evening she had made plans for us to go to a local night spot for dancing.  We ate a quick dinner and hopped a cab to the club.  We danced for hours.  She found a “friend” and went back to his place.  He was a strapping young lad and I knew she was in for a good time.  I’d met a few fellas, but no one that really interested me, so I went back to the hotel. As the cab approached the door to the lobby, a man that was standing out front opened my door, “Good evening.  Let me help you out.”

I smiled and said, “Thank you. And they say chivalry is dead.”

He said, “I am proof that is not true. Let me show you.  Come have a drink with me.”

And I thought…what the hell.  Why not?

Over some very dirty Martini’s I found out he was from Ohio and was attending the same conference that we were. He mentioned seeing me during one of the workshops and wanting to ask me to dinner, but not having the opportunity.  He was nice looking and smart.  And married, like me.  He was charming and I’d already made up my mind to fuck him senseless before the night was over.

After several drinks, I excused myself for the evening.  He insisted on walking me to my room.  I knew the routine…we would kiss…our clothes would end up in a pile on the floor….we would fuck…he would leave and that would be that.  But when we got to my room, he froze.  No kiss.  No move.  Nothing.  I didn’t make a move either, I was expecting him to.  Before I knew it, he was walking away to his room.  I shrugged it off.  I would have liked to have had wild, crazy sex with a stranger, but if it was not in the cards…that was okay too.

I had just gotten undressed when I heard a tap at the door.  I peered out of the peep hole and saw him standing there.  I answered the door with nothing on but a towel, wondering if he had finally gotten up the nerve to seal the deal.  He saw me standing there barely covered and it was on.

We kissed as we made our way to the bed.  I still had the towel on, but he reached up and pulled it off of me. I began taking off his shirt and pants.  When I pulled down his boxer briefs, I was in shock. I was not expecting him to be packing.  He seemed so unsure of himself. But this fella was hung like Seabiscuit.  I was in awe.  Regardless if he had skills or not, I knew exactly what to do with that.  I could not wait to have him inside me.

After he fumbled with the condom, I finally got my wish.  His cock was so large that I felt a tinge of pain as he pushed himself inside. I loved it. He wasn’t aggressive enough for me, so I took the lead and mounted him. I don’t remember how many times I came, but I loved fucking him.  After a couple of rounds, he got dressed and left, just as Jane came in.  I told her about him and she told me about her night.  She’d had a great time with a young cowboy.  He was not as well endowed as my guest, but she had lots of fun.

And although her bed was in pristine condition, no drinks spilled on it that night, she chose to sleep with me. We didn’t do anything but sleep…tangled up and naked, both of us sated. The morning came and we were back to business as usual.  We maintained a great working friendship and never crossed that line again.  And although we work in different states, we are still friends, and Jane is just as beautiful.

jane

(Photo credit, Pinterest)

Is It a Crime?

The year was 1986.

I was quite the social butterfly that summer.  I’d made many new friends in my neighborhood and we were always sleeping over at each other’s houses.  I had finally started to like the area, when I found out we were moving from upstate South Carolina, back to Georgia.  Needless to say, I was not happy.  But there was nothing I could do about it, so I partied like it was 1999, in 1986.  I knew my time was limited, so I threw caution to the wind (not that I ever held it in my hand) and made the most of every single minute there!

As I’ve shared, there were many young men in my “harem” at that time…the good boys, the bad boys…the preppy boys….the ones too old for me…the pretty boys, and of course, the preacher’s son.  I felt it was high time for me to try my hand at the dangerous boys.  I knew exactly who I wanted, but had no clue as to how or when I could make it happen.

His name was Anastasios.  His parents owned the only Greek restaurant in town.  Tasso (as he preferred to be called) was about 19 years old and worked in his parent’s restaurant, among other things.  I say this because he owned a brand new top of the line black Mercedes Benz.  You don’t make that kind of cash, working as a waiter. His parents drove a beat up station wagon.  No, there was more to his story that meets the eye.  I suspected he was selling drugs, but could never confirm it.  The cloud of suspicion was just enough to wet my whistle and I wanted this Hellenic bad boy.

I talked one of my new friends into having lunch with me at the restaurant. She hated Greek food, but tagged along to help me with my plan.  He was not our waiter, but I got his attention with one of my sultry looks from across the room.  He grinned and took our table from his sister who was waiting on us.  We’d not placed our food order when he sauntered over to our table.

“Hello, I’m Tasso.  What you two girls hungry for?” he said, with a mischievous grin.

That was all the encouragement I needed…I replied with, “I am hungry.  Very hungry.  Just don’t know what it is that I have a taste for” and I licked my lips.

He retorted, “Oh, I think you do.  I think you know exactly what you want” and he stared me in the eyes.  It scared the shit out of me.  I was accustomed to being the aggressor.  Maybe I was biting off more that I could swallow, before I tasted my first bite.

I stuttered my order of souvlaki and spanakopita and shyly looked down at my hands.  His directness was sexy and scary at the same time.  He knelt down to meet my gaze.  “What else can I get for you, Tessa?”

He knows my name?  How does he know my name?  I was flustered, but regained my composure, as I perceived his knowledge of who I was…as a victory in this tête–à–tête we were having.

I looked into his obsidian eyes, smiled and said, “I think you know, Tasso”

My poor friend.  She was just there as my wingman, and she was in the middle of all of this. But she took it like a champ and choked down her feta like a good friend would.  The food came out and as I was eating, Tasso handed me a note.

“I want to see you.  Meet me tonight.  I can have my driver pick you up.”

His driver?  WHAT?  Why would a 19 year old waiter have a driver for his brand new Mercedes?  The intrigue was building with each exchange.

I wrote him back with two words, “When? Where?”

He knelt down beside me and said, “We will come get you at your house.  Where do you live?”

I giggled.  Like my parents were going to let their young teenage daughter ride off into the sunset with Zorba and his driver.  “I will have to meet you somewhere besides my house.  Strict parents, you know.”

He nodded.  And then he whispered in my ear.  “You probably need to let loose, if you’ve got strict parents, huh?  I know just what you need.”

We made arrangements for him to pick me up at 9:30 at my friend Erica’s house.  She lived several houses down and I wouldn’t be seen by my parents, or curious neighbors.  I made up a story about a slumber party, packed a bag and headed to Erica’s.  I called my mom when I got there and told her I would walk home in the morning.  She didn’t suspect a thing.  Erica’s parents were potheads, so they had no clue who was at the house, who left the house or who came into the house.  They were usually stoned.

9:30 arrived and I saw the headlights pull into the driveway.  An older Greek man stepped out of the driver’s seat and opened the door to the backseat, as if he were a limo driver.  He said nothing, just nodded to me.  I got in the back, sitting next to Tasso, who looked delicious.  He had on a white jacket, linen pants and a pale blue shirt.  Very Miami Vice (which was popular).Very sexy.

He held my hand as the driver took us to the destination.  I had no idea where we were going and that was exciting.  The whole thing was exciting.  Tasso was quiet, but said something in Greek to the driver.  He put on some music and Tasso leaned over and smelled my hair. “You smell good”

“Thank you, so do you.” I said

“What is Tasso going to do with such a sweet young lady?” he said to himself.  His thick Greek accent was oozing with sex and I was ready to see what happened next.  The driver turned onto a road with a boat dock.  Parked the car in a secluded area and stepped out, facing away from the car.

“It’s just us now.  Tell me what you’re hungry for.”and he leaned over and kissed me.  “Tasso wants you.  He wants to show how hungry he is for you.”

Af first, I was put off with how he referred to himself in third person, but it was his language barrier.  It made him different.  Added to the intrigue.

He kissed me like no one else has, before or after him. He was so passionate, so in the moment.  Before I knew it my clothes were in the front seat and he was still fully dressed. He picked up my hips, pulled my thighs apart, tasting me at first, then devouring me.  He was relentless in his quest. He held me there for such a long time, that I was drenched in sweat and delirious from the pleasure.  I was experienced in sex, but had never had ANYONE pleasure me like that. He would come up from his meal to ask me if I wanted more.  I didn’t know how to respond.  I wanted more, but could I take more?

I managed to mutter, “Yes” and he kept on.  He treated me as if I were a 7 course meal.  I was thirsty and spent and we’d not even had sex yet.  He tapped on the steamed window..His driver came to the door and Tasso said something in Greek.  The driver opened the trunk and handed Tasso a glass bottle.

“This is a Greek drink.  You will like it.” he handed it to me after he sipped it.  It tasted like licorice and I did like it.  In fact, I drank too much too fast and felt like I was floating. I faded in and out for a few minutes as Tasso carried on with his dinner.  I came back down to reality and noticed that he was completely undressed.  He took my hand and guided it to his hard cock, showing me how he wanted me to stroke it.  I did exactly as he showed me and then I took him in my mouth.  I was so uninhibited by the drink (I later found out was called ouzo)  that I took him deep.  I returned the favor in a big way.

He was so aroused by my performance that he could no longer hold back.  He turned me to face the side window and fucked me like a god. He flipped me on my back and devoured me again before he continued fucking me some more.  All the while, he said dirty things.  He described how I felt to him, growling as he plunged into my sex.  He talked about how I tasted and how he wanted more of me..how he wanted me to pass out from the pleasure he gave me….how he wanted my lips on his wet cock before he finished fucking me…I had never been talked to like that before and I loved it.  He was indeed that bad boy I craved.

We stayed in that spot for another couple of hours, while his driver waited outside. He had retrieved a chair from the trunk and sat a few feet from the front of the car.  His presence no longer bothered me.  We had the windows down and I didn’t care if anyone heard me moan or scream or beg for more.  It was too good for me to stop.

That was the only time we were together.  After our marathon of an evening, his driver took us to the restaurant.  It was dark and empty.  Tasso fixed us a snack and playing over the speakers was “An Evening with Sade”.  The radio station would play an entire album late at night and call it “An Evening with….” That was the first time I heard, “Is it Crime” and I smiled to myself…knowing what we’d done bordered on criminal…knowing whatever he did to afford his luxury lifestyle was criminal…knowing that my web of lies to get out for the evening was criminal.  I was such a bad girl.

I got back to Erica’s house around 4:00 am.  I was exhausted and sore.  The next day I awoke to find bite marks all over my body.  We had feasted on each other and left evidence to prove it. I didn’t care.  I would find a way to cover my tracks.  I always did.

A few years ago, while working for hospice, I had the opportunity to pass through my old town in the upstate. His family’s Greek restaurant had been replaced by some franchised chain.  There was no trace of Tasso.  And even though it was one night, I will never forget my evening with him.

tasso

 (Photo credit, Pinterest)

The First Time I…

Summer, 1993.

It was a typical Saturday night.  I was between relationships and in between flings, and my roommates asked me to come with them to a party. At first, I was reluctant to go. I didn’t feel like getting ready for an evening out. But they were persistent, reminding me that my next “victim” could be there…waiting for me to have my way with him. I took the bait and before I knew it, we were on our way.

The party was across town at another college. It was packed.  There must have been about 80 people there, mostly girls.  The music was decent, but I wasn’t feeling the vibe. My roommates scurried over to a group of their friends and I found my way to a empty place on a worn out couch.  The place smelled of beer and I was planning my exit.  Quite honestly, I was pissed.  I would have been happier at home.

Just as I was about to flee the scene, I saw him.  Oooh, I saw him.  He walked in through the out door.  I sat my ass back down and watched him stride through the crowd.  I felt like a hunter stalking her prey. I envisioned all the naughty things I could do with him.  He was beautiful.  Tall and lean.  Broad shoulders.  Dimples.  Flawless skin.  I was doing a mental inventory of his attributes when some idiot spilled their drink on me.  Luckily, I was able to move quickly and only a little got on my skirt.  I was looking for a towel or napkins, when I felt a hand pull me over the side.

“Looks like you moved just in time.” he said.  It was HIM!  He had come to my rescue.  I felt my face flush. He was so incredibly handsome, that I felt nervous.

“Yes, I have quick reflexes.” I muttered.

“Yes, you do.  Let’s go into the kitchen and find you a towel”  He took hold of my hand and effortlessly guided me through the crowd into the kitchen.  Fumbling around in cabinets and drawers, he found a small tea towel.  He handed it to me and our eyes met.  We held the gaze until it became awkward. I dried my skirt and thanked him the towel.

The kitchen was becoming more and more crowded.  “Let’s get out of here.” he said.  “I don’t know why I came here tonight.  I don’t even like these kind of parties. I need some air.  Let’s go outside”

We walked out back and found a couple of lawn chairs.  He pulled them together and wiped my seat off before we sat down.  He extended his hand to me.

“Hi, my name is Courtney.” Courtney?  I’d never met a man named Courtney.  

“I am Tessa”

Still holding onto my hand, he pulled it up to his lips and kissed it.  “Nice to meet you, Tessa.” he grinned.  JESUS…he was handsome…and smooth.

“Nice to meet you, too.” I said.

We talked outside for a long time.  One of my roommates peeked through the door to check on me and I gave her the all good sign.  She giggled as she turned back inside.  She knew where this was headed.

But it didn’t go there.  Normally, I would have bagged and tagged this guy in a matter of hours. Drained the life force from his body and left him before dawn, with a smile.  But this was different.  There was a sincere connection.  I wanted to know him.  He wanted to know me.

“What are you doing tomorrow” he asked.

“I don’t have any plans.  How about you?” I said.

“I am taking you on a picnic.  Shall I pick you up around noon?”

“I’d love that.” I said.

“Good.  I will have the food.  Do you have a blanket we could use?” he asked.

I thought to myself…Me? Do I have a blanket for such occasions?  Don’t you know who I am?  I have a blanket to do whatever you need.  Wherever you want.  

Instead I answered, politely, “Yes.  I have a perfect blanket for a picnic.”

And he walked me back inside, helping me find my roommates.  We left soon after and there was a buzz about my new suitor.

My roommate Mary said, “You tramp!  You just had to pick the finest one in there, didn’t you? Damn he is hot.”  No lie…he really was.

Sunday arrived and we had a lovely picnic at a local park.  He’d picked up sandwiches and fruit and we ate in a shaded area close to the woods.  He was even more beautiful in the light of day.  I was looking demurely sexy in a sexy pink sundress with a plunging halter neckline and my long dark wavy hair spilled over my shoulders .  I could see that he liked my ensemble.  I could see that we really liked each other.

We shared our first kiss on the blanket as I anxiously anticipated what would happen next. But he didn’t make a move towards anything sexual.  I was a bit confused.  Most men would have made some sort of advance, given the setting and the chemistry between us. But he was different.

“I would like to take you to dinner, tonight” he said, touching my face.

“I would like that” I said.

“And I would like for you to stay with me, at my place afterwards.” he said.

I stared into his golden brown eyes and said, “I would like that, too”

He drove me back to my apartment as I nervously packed an overnight bag for my evening out. As we left, he took me by the hand, carrying my bag, and lead me to his car. As I was about to get in, he pinned me to the car with a passionate kiss.  It was so steamy that I almost lost my balance.

“I want you in the worst way” he whispered, as he kissed me some more.  I was dripping with desire.  I wanted him badly, too.  I would have gladly fucked him on that picnic blanket, or right there on the car, but I felt he had something else in mind.

Dinner was at a local Italian restaurant.  I don’t remember what I ate.  I just remember wanting it to be over.  Wanting to get back to his place.

We drove to the movie store (remember those?) and selected a movie to watch at his apartment, although I knew it wouldn’t even make it out of the case.

We got back to his place around 9:00.

And by 9:05, we were in his bed.  I wish I could remember each and every detail.  I wish that I could remember each move.  But what I do remember is the music playing in the background.  Courtney was a musician and a huge fan of jazz and soul.  He’d cued up a Luther Vandross album (on vinyl) for us to listen to.

I don’t remember how our clothes came off, or how one thing led to another.  I do remember the feel of his skin as he held me to his chest.  I remember the sliver of moonlight coming through his bedroom window that shone on his exquisite form.  I remember how he smelled.  I don’t recall the cologne, but it was subtle and sexy.  I remember him pulling me on top of him as he held my face in his hands and kissed me.  There was no rush for either of us to make the next move. When we did, I do remember how he felt as he entered me for the first time…filling all the space inside me…making me gasp in pleasure.  I recall how his hands grasped my hips as we partook of each other.

I do remember, with great detail, that was the night I fell in love.  For the very first time.  I was in love with someone.  Not lust.  Not sex.  Not saying the words to spare their feelings. I fell in love with this man.  I knew it. He knew it. I gave all of myself to him that night.  We made love for hours. He selflessly gave of himself.  We watched the sun rise together and I felt contentment unlike anything I’d experienced before.

We carried on for a few months in a state of absolute bliss. He was almost mystical in his seduction of my mind, soul and body.  No matter how often we were together, it felt new each time. Courtney will always be my first true love.

To this day, when I hear “So Amazing” by Luther Vandross, I am transported back to the time when I fell in love.  I am taken back to hearing and truly understanding those lyrics for the first time.  And it’s so amazing…

in-love

(photo credit, Pinterest)