A Dream

The EXOTIC WOMAN Part 2

An irrational dream begins…

            I had gone to the theater with a friend, some trendy new play.  The type of play that seldom came to my home-town.  The kind of play that was original, verbal, situational and smart as opposed to glitzy, dopey musicals featuring a frustrated insane, physically repugnant monster with a nice baritone and an obsessive love for the hot chick.  You know, the ‘re-run’ that everyone pretends to “love”, but only because they really dig the music and ignore the dialog and plot.  Thank heaven this play hadn’t been like that.

            I was still sitting in my seat thinking about the quirky ending to the play when my friend got up to go.  “Going to the whizzer, see you outside, OK?”  I shook my head to clear the echoes of the last scene and nodded, “Yeah, I’ll see you in a minute.”  As my buddy left, I stood and stretched the stiffness out of my legs and back.  Turning to go, I saw my friends, Marla and her husband Dean talking to Phil, another of our group at the back of the theater.  Waving, I climbed the aisle and walked up to them, said hello and hugged Marla, shook hands with the guys, “How ya doing?”  They replied, “ Fine, Fine, Fine.”  Small talk broke out, each of us catching up on recent events, grandkids, dogs, gardens and the like when out of nowhere I heard my name spoken.  “Mike”.  In the noise of the conversation I couldn’t tell where the sound had come from or if it was real.  “I must be hearing things”, I told myself.  And then it came again a little louder and more insistent, “Mike”.  I looked around, trying to pinpoint the origin of the calling.  It had become important to find out who was calling to me, who owned that voice; that silky, alluring voice.  I scanned my memory for that particular sound, that exact tone of ‘come hitherness’.  Then, again the voice reached out to me, inviting, full of want and desire, “Mike”.

            At that moment the exiting crowd thinned and revealed a woman sitting in the aisle seat of the back row and she was looking directly at me.  I was startled, even though I had been looking for whoever had been calling my name. 

            The woman was beautiful, too beautiful to be looking at me that way.  So naturally I turned around to see if someone else was standing behind me, someone else that she had to be looking at.  I was sure that I was misunderstanding her gaze.  No one was there, except my friends who were looking at me, puzzled at my actions.  I looked back at the woman who smiled slightly, just a quirk of the lips really, and she lifted one eyebrow in an invitation…question?

            She was gorgeous, sitting there a bit sideways, legs crossed at the ankles.  “What ankles”, I thought and continued to look her over.  “Lips”…had I said it out loud?  Lips, full and generous, red, red with that favorite shade of lipstick that I like; the only lipstick that I like. Her hair was black, black as a raven’s wing, soaking up the light like a black hole, glistening only where the light was strong enough to escape the pull of the dark. It was thick, and cut in a short flip that looked natural and inviting.  Her almond eyes were dark too, and from where I stood I couldn’t tell how dark, but they seemed to be saying, “Get over here you fool, I have got something to tell you.”   Just one more glance I thought and…”Oh my!” I sucked in my breath, “OH MY!”  My glance slid from head to toe and back again, “OHH MY! and in a yellow dress too. “

            My feet started moving of their own volition, walking directly over to where she sat, willing me to come to her with her eyes.  I felt as if I had no control.  I arrived to stand in front of her and reached down and took her proffered hand.  “Her skin is like silk”, I thought as I helped her to stand.  As she did, I took her other hand in mine and looked deeply into those dark eyes.  “What am I doing?” in wonder, I gently pulled her to me.   I leaned toward her, intending to kiss those scarlet lips. Just as our lips were about to touch, she lifted her head so that I kissed her chin.  Startled, I jerked back with a question on my face.  She chuckled low in her throat, lips curled in a smile.  She then let my hands go and took my head in hers and pulled our lips together.  An electric spark literally exploded fireworks in my brain.  The sweet fruity aroma of the ruby lipstick filled my head, temporarily overpowering the clean, womanly smell of her skin.  I wanted to crush her body to me, full length, welded together lips to knees; one hot, seething nuclear power-plant of desire.

            I held myself in check, I don’t know how, and pressed my lips back to hers a bit firmer and opened slightly.  She didn’t respond at first so I let the tip of my tongue caress her soft, scarlet lips and as she relaxed, our tongues touched in the real duel of love.  When our lips had first met, my eyes had closed in reflex to the bliss that had spread through out me.  As our kiss deepened, my eyes opened and found her looking at me, eyes dark, deep, and unfathomable.   Who knew what thoughts were flashing in their depths.

            As the desire in both of us increased to just this side of unbearable, our hands started roaming in a more passionate embrace of…how to describe what this was.  A rough hand grabbed my shoulder and jerked me away from this woman, rudely pulling our lips apart, leaving a tingling, yearning, coldness where only heat had been before.  As I stumbled back from the force of the hard treatment, my right arm drew back in an instinctive, defensive act, fist clenched hard, ready to pound the intruder.  “Get away from my woman!” this stranger’s harsh voice ground out.  “What in the hell are you doing?” 

            The woman stepped in between, preventing us coming at each other.  My clenched fist ached to drive through the stranger’s face, it vibrated with the effort to restrain it.  The woman looked at me, shook her head slightly and turned to the stranger.  She grasped his hand and turned to go.  He turned and muttering threats, drug this beautiful woman off like so much baggage.

            I watched them go; the clenched fist relaxed and my arm dropped to my side.  The stranger and the woman swept through the exit doors and at last, she turned and looked straight at me.  Her lips that had so recently held mine in an embrace of love mouthed the words, “I’m sorry.”  Silently spoken, loudly received.  My shoulders slumped and my head drooped so that I was looking at my shoes.  “Oh my God Mike, who was that woman?”  Marla asked.  I looked back at the empty doorway, sorrow on my face, “I don’t know, but she called my name.” 

            I walked away to find my friend.

Michael D. LeFevre   May 2010 ã COPYRIGHT