Ataraxia
Bluelighter
I'm not the wink-from-across-the-room type of person. The thought of catching a man's eye in a public place, and letting him know my interest, makes me shudder. There must be an incredibly thin plane one can reach in one's psyche which says, "If I catch a person's eye and give him a come-hither look, I know he will smile back." (Jessica Rabbit: "I'm not bad, I'm just drawn that way!) My thin plane always replaces "smile" with "laugh". This is not a problem for me. I don't want to be a sought-after, drop-dead gorgeous woman... too many hassles. I heard a quote once which stayed with me: "Beautiful women and rich men never hear the truth." I would rather have the truth. (Wouldn't be bad being rich, though!)
Needless to say, my lack of aggression (assertiveness?) in the man department doesn't garner me a lot of dates, and since I'm also not a stay-at-home type of person, quite often I find myself going to activities alone.
Last Saturday afternoon, I was down at the Plaza enjoying the relaxed, open atmosphere, and watching the varieties of culture. This is the place in Kansas City, where people go to be seen, and tourists bring their cameras for "fountain shots". I wandered past Tivol Jewelers (he advertises on television, pretending to be "just another nice guy" with gazillion dollar jewelry), Saks 5th Avenue (love the smell), FAO Schwartz (shouldn't every child have a $500 stuffed bear?), and The Gap (well, okay, it's not ALL swank and grace). I sat on one of the fountain benches and watched the street musicians entertain the wandering crowds. I soaked in the sun, the music, and the people.
After the musicians moved on, I walked past the theater and checked out the movies. The Plaza Theater used to be one of those ostentatiously designed mammoth theaters, complete with looming gargoyles and gold-leaf detail. It was still majestic, but had been divided into three theaters for profit. I saw that they were showing a movie I had been wanting to see, and the timing was right, so I purchased a ticket and went in. It smelled like old elegance. I stood in line at the concession stand, and when I reached the front, the kid behind the counter said, "Hi!!! How about a designer hot dog today?!!?!" I looked toward the ceiling and said, "Oh... and me without my Donna Karan cap, Liz Claiborne sweater, Calvin Klein jeans, and Nike Air Shoops!"
Behind me, I heard this snorting laughter, and quickly turned to see a good looking man grinning at me. I must have turned ten shades of red (Yosemite Sam gets caught with his pants down). I turned back, and gave my order as fast as I could... then hurried to the entrance to the show.
The theater was nearly empty, so I was able to find my "middle in the middle" seat I like. The seats even had those neat plastic cup holders so the experience would seem more like couch potatoing than theater attending. I was staring at the slide commercials on the screen, when I realized he was standing next to me - over me. "May I sit next to you?" (Big deep breath.) I thought of saying, "Sure, make my day," or "Since there are no other seats available, I guess you have no choice," or "Only if you behave yourself!"... but they all sounded so stupid and contrived, so I looked up at him, and nodded silently - trying to decide if he was for real.
He settled into his seat. I opened my mouth to try to utter something intelligent, but at that moment the projector started, preventing (at least for the moment) anything stupid being uttered. The seats were small enough that I could feel the warmth of his arm almost touching mine. His body leaned into me as he offered me some of his popcorn. As if in slow motion, I reached in and took one popped kernel. I didn't want him to move back into his chair. He turned to me, and whispered in my ear something about the movie. A shiver ran through my body as I felt his hot breath. It took all I had not to melt into a heap on the floor (Wile E. Coyote hits the rock in the hill painted like a train tunnel). What did he want from me?
He got the hint about the popcorn, and, during the previews, kept slowly passing it my way so that I could take my one kernel at a time. Each time, he waited just a bit longer before bringing the bucket back to his lap. The thought occurred to me that he could get tennis elbow from this, and I could not hold back a laugh. He looked at me, then looked at the screen, as if wondering what was funny about the preview. I thought, "God... how dumb!" At least he couldn't see my blush in the darkness.
His knee brushed against mine. What was the movie about? My mind was raging. Over and over, the line from the Alanis Morrisette song went through my head - "Did she go down on you in a theater?". I couldn't clear it out. When he laughed, it sang in my brain. Can two hours of a 200 beat-a-minute heart rate be dangerous?
I was sure that my tightly clasped hands were a sign of nervousness, so against my mind's will, I pulled them apart (Tweety Bird hanging onto the sides of the cage for dear life), and rested my arm on the armrest. His arm pressed against it from the shoulder to the elbow, and I felt a flush. I needed to stop grasping the cup holder. God, one would think I had never been around a man before! His knee pressed against mine.
"Breathe in... breathe out."
Oh, God, the movie was sad - I was going to cry. Why couldn't I have chosen a Jim Carrey movie (maybe because I can't stand him?). What was my problem? I loved crying at movies! The tear softly flowed down my cheek. He looked over and saw it, then covered my cold hand with his warm one. In one motion, almost unconsciously, I leaned my head on his shoulder. When I realized what I had done, I tried to sit back up, but his hand tightened around mine and he pulled me back. I melted. (Daisy gets flowers from Donald.)
He took my right hand with his right hand, and covered my shoulder with his arm. ("Oh, Popeye, my heeee-maaaannn!") I could smell his fragrance. Both of us were trying to control our breathing. Now, I did not want the movie to end. The heat was incredible. He put his lips to my hair, and kissed. I felt the heat of his breath flowing like a fog over my head. I squeezed his hand.
We didn't move through the end of the movie. We watched the credits from beginning to end. The lights came up and we finally had to return to reality. ("What's Up, Doc?") He held my hand as we walked into the evening air. The Plaza was alive at dusk. The carriages carried young lovers through the streets. Limousines with blackened windows cruised restaurant row. There was a slight chill in the air.
He just stood there and looked at me - frozen in time for a moment. Then, he said, "Well, we could go have some Mocha Amaretto Double Latte' Cappuccino half-decaf Espresso with a Cinnamon Stick... or... we could go to my place." I laughed... and then I smiled, saying, "But I haven't had a chance to pull your prior felony record, yet." He said, "Okay, coffee, it is." (Pepe Le Pew: "She eeez so cute, my shy leeetle peteeet flow-wear!") The Plaza had a neat little coffee shop with outdoor tables. We sat there for hours, talking about everything we knew - I told him things I had not told another. I was so animated, that a couple of times he had to hold my hands to calm me. I seriously thought about being even more animated, so he would touch me more.
The time was late evening, and the coffee shop wanted to close. He took both of my hands in his, and told me that he had had a wonderful time, and was so happy to have met me. Fearing that this might be the last time I ever saw him, a panic overtook me. I blurted out, "May I come home with you now?" and immediately wished I had no tongue. He was so genuinely caught off guard, that he burst into laughter, and I wanted to hide under the table. Before the tears formed, he grabbed my hands again and brought them to his smiling lips. "Please, please come over."
Would he drive? Would I follow? Would he bring me back? Should I take a cab? ("beep beep!") This was supposed to be a normal day... I thanked the heavens that I had shaved my legs that morning. He sensed my nervousness (it would have taken a three foot wall between us for him not to), and said, "Let me drive you. I will bring you back here whenever you decide." We didn't drive in silence, because I couldn't keep my mouth shut. I didn't know if it was wit or blathering. He kept smiling, so I assumed it was wit.
He lived in a trendy apartment in Kansas City's "SoHo" district. (I always thought that was laughable, but kept my mouth shut, for once.) He asked me what kind of music I liked, and just happened to have it. He asked me what I wanted to drink, and just happened to have it. I began to wonder if someone had been tracking me ("Shhhh. Be vewy vewy qwiet. I'm hunting Wabbit!") I kept taking deep breaths, and was starting to get dizzy, when he took my glass from me and kissed me deeply. Whatever reservations I had departed like the pumpkin carriage at the stroke of midnight, and I knew I was his to do with in any way he pleased.
"How may I please you?", his deep voice slowly whispered in my ear. "Do you like tender (pause), or rough (pause), or playful (pause), or kinky (pause), or submissive (long pause), or dominating (pause), or restrained (kiss)?" I nodded. He smiled, "Then let me take you to my bedroom." (Chip and Dale: "After you!" "Oh NO! After YOU!" "No no, I insist! After YOU!" "Then we'll both go at the same time!" "Absolutely!") He led me into the bedroom and removed my clothes, kissing my body as he uncovered me. (Why don't I EVER wear sexy underwear?) He pulled my hands up to his collar, and I unbuttoned his shirt. I found myself leaning into him, and kissing his neck. I pressed my breasts against his chest, and dragged his shirt off his arms. He pulled me into his body, and I felt the hardness in his jeans.
I suddenly pulled back, surprised at my behavior, and looked into his eyes - his beautiful, warm, accepting eyes. He kissed me once more, probing gently with his tongue. I wanted nothing more than to have this man make love to me. (Bugs and Friends: "Overture, turn the lights. This is it, we'll hit the heights. And oh, what heights we'll hit. On with the show, this is it!")
He kissed my breasts, as I unzipped his jeans and pushed them to the floor. (Oh my God! He was wearing Looney Tunes silk boxers!) I kneeled down, and kissed him on his Tasmanian Devil, before sliding them off. He put his hands around my arms, and pulled me up to him. I felt so hot. We stood in the middle of the room, our hands trying to feel every inch of skin on our bodies. We were pressed so tightly together that he left a wet trail on my stomach. His mouth was all over my face and neck and shoulders and chest. He pushed me back onto the bed and crawled on top of me. ("We're going to have wabbit for dinner tonight!")
He rubbed against me with a slow, pulsing movement, my legs spreading automatically for him. He sucked on my nipples until they were hard and tender... still rubbing against me, not entering me. I thought I would die from wanting him. He raised up, and turned me over onto my knees, pulling my arms behind me. (The African tribe was taking Bugs to the boiling pot of stew.) He entered me quickly and deeply. One hand held my wrists as the other massaged my arms, breasts, stomach, groin, legs. He pushed himself into me again and again. I didn't ever want him to stop. His fingers felt for my wetness, and he brought them first to my lips for a taste, and then to his. His still wet and slippery fingers teased my swollen breasts.
He released my arms and put his hands on my shoulders... pulling on me as he pounded into me harder and faster. I braced myself against the headboard, and pushed back into him. I knew he was almost there. ("Look, Bugs, there's an oasis in the desert! We're saved!") With his final thrusts, we both came in an explosion of fire and light.
He slowly fell onto my back, and I sank to the bed. I loved the feel of his weight on top of me, but he soon turned to his side, and cradled me in his arms. ("You go to sleep now, Huey, Duey, and Louie!") He kissed my hair, and whispered the most wonderful things in my ear. He pulled the covers up over us and asked, "Will you please spend the night?" In my best imitation of Pepe Le Pew's Penelope, I nodded.
(Th-th-th-that's all folks!)
------------------
Today in medical science recognizes that some folks aren't helped by relaxing exercises. In cases of difficult tension and nervous apprehension, doctors are now prescribing medicine. It makes those who fear they're about to quit feel like they're ready to begin, bidding their darkened spirits goodbye, for the calming peace of a cloudless sky...
Needless to say, my lack of aggression (assertiveness?) in the man department doesn't garner me a lot of dates, and since I'm also not a stay-at-home type of person, quite often I find myself going to activities alone.
Last Saturday afternoon, I was down at the Plaza enjoying the relaxed, open atmosphere, and watching the varieties of culture. This is the place in Kansas City, where people go to be seen, and tourists bring their cameras for "fountain shots". I wandered past Tivol Jewelers (he advertises on television, pretending to be "just another nice guy" with gazillion dollar jewelry), Saks 5th Avenue (love the smell), FAO Schwartz (shouldn't every child have a $500 stuffed bear?), and The Gap (well, okay, it's not ALL swank and grace). I sat on one of the fountain benches and watched the street musicians entertain the wandering crowds. I soaked in the sun, the music, and the people.
After the musicians moved on, I walked past the theater and checked out the movies. The Plaza Theater used to be one of those ostentatiously designed mammoth theaters, complete with looming gargoyles and gold-leaf detail. It was still majestic, but had been divided into three theaters for profit. I saw that they were showing a movie I had been wanting to see, and the timing was right, so I purchased a ticket and went in. It smelled like old elegance. I stood in line at the concession stand, and when I reached the front, the kid behind the counter said, "Hi!!! How about a designer hot dog today?!!?!" I looked toward the ceiling and said, "Oh... and me without my Donna Karan cap, Liz Claiborne sweater, Calvin Klein jeans, and Nike Air Shoops!"
Behind me, I heard this snorting laughter, and quickly turned to see a good looking man grinning at me. I must have turned ten shades of red (Yosemite Sam gets caught with his pants down). I turned back, and gave my order as fast as I could... then hurried to the entrance to the show.
The theater was nearly empty, so I was able to find my "middle in the middle" seat I like. The seats even had those neat plastic cup holders so the experience would seem more like couch potatoing than theater attending. I was staring at the slide commercials on the screen, when I realized he was standing next to me - over me. "May I sit next to you?" (Big deep breath.) I thought of saying, "Sure, make my day," or "Since there are no other seats available, I guess you have no choice," or "Only if you behave yourself!"... but they all sounded so stupid and contrived, so I looked up at him, and nodded silently - trying to decide if he was for real.
He settled into his seat. I opened my mouth to try to utter something intelligent, but at that moment the projector started, preventing (at least for the moment) anything stupid being uttered. The seats were small enough that I could feel the warmth of his arm almost touching mine. His body leaned into me as he offered me some of his popcorn. As if in slow motion, I reached in and took one popped kernel. I didn't want him to move back into his chair. He turned to me, and whispered in my ear something about the movie. A shiver ran through my body as I felt his hot breath. It took all I had not to melt into a heap on the floor (Wile E. Coyote hits the rock in the hill painted like a train tunnel). What did he want from me?
He got the hint about the popcorn, and, during the previews, kept slowly passing it my way so that I could take my one kernel at a time. Each time, he waited just a bit longer before bringing the bucket back to his lap. The thought occurred to me that he could get tennis elbow from this, and I could not hold back a laugh. He looked at me, then looked at the screen, as if wondering what was funny about the preview. I thought, "God... how dumb!" At least he couldn't see my blush in the darkness.
His knee brushed against mine. What was the movie about? My mind was raging. Over and over, the line from the Alanis Morrisette song went through my head - "Did she go down on you in a theater?". I couldn't clear it out. When he laughed, it sang in my brain. Can two hours of a 200 beat-a-minute heart rate be dangerous?
I was sure that my tightly clasped hands were a sign of nervousness, so against my mind's will, I pulled them apart (Tweety Bird hanging onto the sides of the cage for dear life), and rested my arm on the armrest. His arm pressed against it from the shoulder to the elbow, and I felt a flush. I needed to stop grasping the cup holder. God, one would think I had never been around a man before! His knee pressed against mine.
"Breathe in... breathe out."
Oh, God, the movie was sad - I was going to cry. Why couldn't I have chosen a Jim Carrey movie (maybe because I can't stand him?). What was my problem? I loved crying at movies! The tear softly flowed down my cheek. He looked over and saw it, then covered my cold hand with his warm one. In one motion, almost unconsciously, I leaned my head on his shoulder. When I realized what I had done, I tried to sit back up, but his hand tightened around mine and he pulled me back. I melted. (Daisy gets flowers from Donald.)
He took my right hand with his right hand, and covered my shoulder with his arm. ("Oh, Popeye, my heeee-maaaannn!") I could smell his fragrance. Both of us were trying to control our breathing. Now, I did not want the movie to end. The heat was incredible. He put his lips to my hair, and kissed. I felt the heat of his breath flowing like a fog over my head. I squeezed his hand.
We didn't move through the end of the movie. We watched the credits from beginning to end. The lights came up and we finally had to return to reality. ("What's Up, Doc?") He held my hand as we walked into the evening air. The Plaza was alive at dusk. The carriages carried young lovers through the streets. Limousines with blackened windows cruised restaurant row. There was a slight chill in the air.
He just stood there and looked at me - frozen in time for a moment. Then, he said, "Well, we could go have some Mocha Amaretto Double Latte' Cappuccino half-decaf Espresso with a Cinnamon Stick... or... we could go to my place." I laughed... and then I smiled, saying, "But I haven't had a chance to pull your prior felony record, yet." He said, "Okay, coffee, it is." (Pepe Le Pew: "She eeez so cute, my shy leeetle peteeet flow-wear!") The Plaza had a neat little coffee shop with outdoor tables. We sat there for hours, talking about everything we knew - I told him things I had not told another. I was so animated, that a couple of times he had to hold my hands to calm me. I seriously thought about being even more animated, so he would touch me more.
The time was late evening, and the coffee shop wanted to close. He took both of my hands in his, and told me that he had had a wonderful time, and was so happy to have met me. Fearing that this might be the last time I ever saw him, a panic overtook me. I blurted out, "May I come home with you now?" and immediately wished I had no tongue. He was so genuinely caught off guard, that he burst into laughter, and I wanted to hide under the table. Before the tears formed, he grabbed my hands again and brought them to his smiling lips. "Please, please come over."
Would he drive? Would I follow? Would he bring me back? Should I take a cab? ("beep beep!") This was supposed to be a normal day... I thanked the heavens that I had shaved my legs that morning. He sensed my nervousness (it would have taken a three foot wall between us for him not to), and said, "Let me drive you. I will bring you back here whenever you decide." We didn't drive in silence, because I couldn't keep my mouth shut. I didn't know if it was wit or blathering. He kept smiling, so I assumed it was wit.
He lived in a trendy apartment in Kansas City's "SoHo" district. (I always thought that was laughable, but kept my mouth shut, for once.) He asked me what kind of music I liked, and just happened to have it. He asked me what I wanted to drink, and just happened to have it. I began to wonder if someone had been tracking me ("Shhhh. Be vewy vewy qwiet. I'm hunting Wabbit!") I kept taking deep breaths, and was starting to get dizzy, when he took my glass from me and kissed me deeply. Whatever reservations I had departed like the pumpkin carriage at the stroke of midnight, and I knew I was his to do with in any way he pleased.
"How may I please you?", his deep voice slowly whispered in my ear. "Do you like tender (pause), or rough (pause), or playful (pause), or kinky (pause), or submissive (long pause), or dominating (pause), or restrained (kiss)?" I nodded. He smiled, "Then let me take you to my bedroom." (Chip and Dale: "After you!" "Oh NO! After YOU!" "No no, I insist! After YOU!" "Then we'll both go at the same time!" "Absolutely!") He led me into the bedroom and removed my clothes, kissing my body as he uncovered me. (Why don't I EVER wear sexy underwear?) He pulled my hands up to his collar, and I unbuttoned his shirt. I found myself leaning into him, and kissing his neck. I pressed my breasts against his chest, and dragged his shirt off his arms. He pulled me into his body, and I felt the hardness in his jeans.
I suddenly pulled back, surprised at my behavior, and looked into his eyes - his beautiful, warm, accepting eyes. He kissed me once more, probing gently with his tongue. I wanted nothing more than to have this man make love to me. (Bugs and Friends: "Overture, turn the lights. This is it, we'll hit the heights. And oh, what heights we'll hit. On with the show, this is it!")
He kissed my breasts, as I unzipped his jeans and pushed them to the floor. (Oh my God! He was wearing Looney Tunes silk boxers!) I kneeled down, and kissed him on his Tasmanian Devil, before sliding them off. He put his hands around my arms, and pulled me up to him. I felt so hot. We stood in the middle of the room, our hands trying to feel every inch of skin on our bodies. We were pressed so tightly together that he left a wet trail on my stomach. His mouth was all over my face and neck and shoulders and chest. He pushed me back onto the bed and crawled on top of me. ("We're going to have wabbit for dinner tonight!")
He rubbed against me with a slow, pulsing movement, my legs spreading automatically for him. He sucked on my nipples until they were hard and tender... still rubbing against me, not entering me. I thought I would die from wanting him. He raised up, and turned me over onto my knees, pulling my arms behind me. (The African tribe was taking Bugs to the boiling pot of stew.) He entered me quickly and deeply. One hand held my wrists as the other massaged my arms, breasts, stomach, groin, legs. He pushed himself into me again and again. I didn't ever want him to stop. His fingers felt for my wetness, and he brought them first to my lips for a taste, and then to his. His still wet and slippery fingers teased my swollen breasts.
He released my arms and put his hands on my shoulders... pulling on me as he pounded into me harder and faster. I braced myself against the headboard, and pushed back into him. I knew he was almost there. ("Look, Bugs, there's an oasis in the desert! We're saved!") With his final thrusts, we both came in an explosion of fire and light.
He slowly fell onto my back, and I sank to the bed. I loved the feel of his weight on top of me, but he soon turned to his side, and cradled me in his arms. ("You go to sleep now, Huey, Duey, and Louie!") He kissed my hair, and whispered the most wonderful things in my ear. He pulled the covers up over us and asked, "Will you please spend the night?" In my best imitation of Pepe Le Pew's Penelope, I nodded.
(Th-th-th-that's all folks!)
------------------
Today in medical science recognizes that some folks aren't helped by relaxing exercises. In cases of difficult tension and nervous apprehension, doctors are now prescribing medicine. It makes those who fear they're about to quit feel like they're ready to begin, bidding their darkened spirits goodbye, for the calming peace of a cloudless sky...
