Ready for more?

Ready for more?

In the beginning I couldn’t tell if it were her eyes or the fifteen-caret marquee cut emerald that created the most exquisite green I had ever seen. The light danced from the reflection of the gems facets as its turntable slowly rotated within the display case. The reflected rays snapped and bounced from every object in the room. Her eyes were no exception.

It was my first day in New York and visiting museums, art galleries, and emporiums dedicated to the dispensing of food, drink, and live music was a treat that I had been eagerly anticipating for months. My life had indeed changed, but boredom still represented my lifestyle. I was looking to replace stale with inspiration.

Green has always been a color that excited me for some reason. I had never known why or even tried to figure it out. The proper shade of green draws me in just as a moth is drawn to a flame. In retrospect I suppose I should have considered that the flame is very dangerous for the moth.

I’m not quite sure if she noticed me fixated on her eyes or my obvious look at her legs as I turned and walked to the most conveniently located wall which was displaying contemporary oil paintings. I like art, but the move in that direction was more to see what the rest of her looked like than to see paintings. As I walked by I noticed that a ring did not encumber any finger of her left hand.

I pretended to observe the art, but my real interest was in her. With each step I would look around to see where she was. I was trying to maneuver myself into a place where I could watch her without being obvious. Several times as I looked in her direction I thought I noticed her quickly look away or focus her attention on something else.

I have always admired everything beautiful and women are at the top of my list. I believe they are truly a gift from God. I suppose it’s ritualistic admiration that first gains my attention. Depending on the venue and the angle of a first glance, legs and feet are my first point of interest; otherwise it’s the eyes. The eyes reveal the soul and in concert with the mouth expose the woman’s mood.

My mind drifts and I am reminded that legs are the sexiest part of a woman. Nice legs with feet adorned in sexy heels, attached to a woman who knows how to walk, are the fabric from which fantasies are made. Combine that with a fashionable flowing dress and well-applied makeup and my attention is acquired, or lost, depending on your point of view.

I had been staring at the painting for much too long and looked around to see where the woman with the green eyes had moved. She was nowhere to be seen and I must admit that I felt a sense of loss. Regretfully she was one of the most striking women I had seen in quite some time. She made my eyes feel good and I knew I would nostalgically miss the view. In my head I was hearing the organ solo and long musical interlude of the early ‘70’s song by Sugarloaf “Green-eyed Lady”. I started singing the words under my breath, “. . . Green-eyed lady, passions' lady, dressed in love she lives for life to be . . .”

I was touched on my left forearm, “Excuse me”. The touch startled me and I know I must have jumped enough to leave the floor. I felt like I had been awoken from an incredible dream and was just as irritated as if I had. I wanted to know what was going to happen next and where my mind would transport me. I hadn’t had a moment like this for a long time and was anticipating a delicious self-indulgent interlude created by my own imagination. It’s maddening when you loose a dream, especially a really good one.

Feeling annoyed, I turned and found jade green eyes.

“What are you going to do now?” she clearly asks taking my hand and locking her arm around mine while leading me to the front entrance of the gallery.

I had absolutely nothing clever to say, no suave repartee . . . nothing but silence for what seemed like long agonizing minutes. You can’t regain what you didn’t have, and at this moment I had no composure at all. Finally, about the time we reached the front door, I managed to gut out a weak, “I guess you’re driving”.

She smiled, squeezed my hand, pulled my arm closer to her side then haled a cab. When the cab stopped I opened the door and watched her sit on the edge of the seat as she modestly swing her legs into the cab. Without letting go of my arm she pulled me into the cab behind her.

She giggled as she pulled me closer, “Have you ever acted purely on impulse?”

“Not quite like this.”

“Neither have I, or at least not quite like this either. My name is Charlotte Hill, you can call me Char.”

“My name is Drew” I replied. “I’m really at a loss for words and I suppose a little embarrassed. Was I that obvious as I watched you in the gallery? I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. I think I’ve learned to keep my eyes to my self.” I felt my face get hot and knew it must be bright red as I blushed.

“Silly man . . . is that what you think? No, no, no!” she said softly. “I just find you appealing. A man in an art gallery without a woman forcing him to go shows a higher level of intellect, and I find intellectual men the sexiest men of all. I thought I could talk you into going to dinner with me. . . my treat.”

Char was a stunning woman. She was 5’ 10”, about 37, long black hair to the middle of her back, and had the most engaging green eyes I had ever seen. This night she was wearing a purple and blue silk dress that rhythmically moved with her every step. The dress was just above her knees; she had long well shaped legs, and wore matching 4-inch heels. Her makeup was perfect. She placed accent on her eyes and long lashes, and wore an enticing off-shade red lipstick. She exuded class.

“I would be delighted to join you for dinner, but I am not dressed to go out and I couldn’t possibly let you buy.”

“In this town the inviter buys, it’s traditional” she replied. “Do you have a suit and a pair of dress shoes?” she inquired.

“At my hotel. I’m staying at the Mandarin on 60th. Do you know it?”

“Driver, take us to the Mandarin” she requested. “We can have a drink at the bar then I’ll have a second while you go up and dress. Then you and I my dear are going to have a glorious night in New York. You did bring dancing shoes I hope,” she giggled as she put her arm around me and gave me a peck on the cheek.

I put on a dark suit, black shirt, and dark lavender and blue silk tie, with black-capped spit-shinned leather shoes. I walked back into the bar, Char immediately stood up, walked toward me, placed her arms around my neck, and gave me a body hug, with a staggering full mouth kiss on the lips, and a finishing nibble in the nape of my neck. It sent chills up my spine into the base of my skull. My body quivered.

“I have a surprise,” she cooed as she took my arm and gently maneuvered me toward the front door. “I’ve been a busy girl while I waited for you to dress, and I must say it was well worth the wait. I made reservations at a very exclusive restaurant that I think you might like. And, if you’re game, I’d like to go dancing after dinner.” The doorman opened the door and she led me into the open expanse of a white stretch limo equipped with several bottles of Perrier-Jouet Flower Bottle Champagne with matching glasses.

The smile on my face couldn’t have been removed with a chisel. It was permanently affixed, or so I thought. I couldn’t believe my good fortune. It was early evening and by New York standards much too early to begin a social excursion. We sat side by side in the limo, she snuggled close, and picked up her glass, looked into my eyes, “Champagne sir” she purred as she nuzzled her shoulder into my side.

I secured a Flower Bottle, loosened the wire, and popped the cork. It flew through the sunroof of the limo and thunked off the top of a passing cab. We laughed as I filled her glass, then my own.

“To a delicious evening, one we will both remember”, she said as she clinked my glass. We both sipped then she gave me another kiss.

We spent a couple of hours driving around New York, observing the canyons created by the buildings, watching people, and drinking champagne. Char was a marvelous conversationalist possessing a wealth of knowledge and a remarkable sense of humor. I laughed that night harder than I had laughed in years; belly laughs that wouldn’t stop even though they hurt. I hadn’t laughed that hard since I was a child.

Char knew how to cuddle. She could snuggle close and engulfed my entire body within her essence. Even though only a portion of her body was in physical contact, it was as if we were engaged in a full body hug with arms and legs wrapped together. She was sexy. I noticed early on that she wore thigh-high stockings instead of traditional panty hose. She would cross and uncross her legs as we moved around the back of the limo. She was sexy at all levels; inside, outside, underneath, and went out her way to make sure I noticed.

We stopped at an upper Manhattan restaurant and had a marvelous meal. One of the few you remember for a lifetime, wish you could duplicate, but never will. After dinner we visited several clubs and danced. Char had incredible moves, she moved with me, singularly together, her eyes focused on me, and mine on hers. I love dancing with an interesting and interested partner and she was all of that. I could only imagine how the evening would end and my level of anticipation was immeasurable. I was eagerly waiting for her next surprise.

When it came the limo was parked in front of the Mandarin Oriental and paramedics were attending me. Two of New York’s finest were standing by and the limo driver was fumbling with what appeared to be a bill. I was slowly immerging from a substance-induced stupor.

“Too much champagne, I think he’ll be OK”, the paramedic said with a chuckle.

“What happened?” the detective asked.

“I had the best time of my entire life” I responded, “Where’s Char?” I asked.

“You mean the woman you were with all night?” the limo driver asked.

“Ya, the most wonderful woman I have ever met!”

“She had me stop here so she could go to her room about an hour and a half ago. Said she wanted to get a few things then go to your hotel. She asked me to wait and not wake you.”

“This is my hotel.” I interjected.

One of the detectives started shaking his head as he helped me from the limo and stood me up. “Are you missing anything?”

I checked my pockets and found my credit card was missing along with several hundred dollars in cash. I was wearing a 14K gold Concord watch along with an expensive diamond ring. “I’ve been cleaned out,” I said. “My room key’s missing too.” At that moment my heart shattered as completely as the finest crystal will when falling to a marble floor.

“Tabs $500 for the limo with an extra $675 for the three Flower Bottles. That totals $1,175 plus a $200 tip. She had me put it on your credit card” the driver said as he handed me the charge slip. “I cleared the charge with American Express while I was waiting.”

“Good God” I thought.

“I’ll need to see your drivers license and take your statement” one of the detective said as he led the limo driver to the front of the car.

I was still in a fog and had no idea what had just happened. Had I been robbed, extorted, rolled, or just played for a monumental chump? I thought I had something going with Char that could be a little more than just a causal acquaintance. “I thought she really liked me,” I whimpered.

“You’re from out of town right?” the first detective asked as he escorted me into the hotel lobby and obtained a key from the front desk clerk. “You’ve just been classically rolled. I must admit, however, this is a bit of a new twist,” he retorted with a bit of a chuckle as we went to my room. “I hope you have good homeowners insurance,” he said as we opened my room door.

It had been several hours since I had been to the bathroom so I immediately went in and closed the door. Suddenly the officer began to laugh. “I’ll leave my card here on the table, call me if you need some more of my help,” he said as he was leaving my room. I heard him remark as he closed the door, “Now I’ve seen everything”.

I walked into the bedroom and saw an unbelievable arrangement on the pillow of my turned down bed. There was a lavender silk-lace thong with a pair of thigh-high stockings draped across my sheets. My watch, ring and credit card were placed neatly on the thong along with eighteen $100 bills.

Atop the arrangement was a white card bearing the imprint of perfect kiss in an off-red shade of lipstick. Below the kiss was a note, “I just love surprises, don’t you? Now, it’s your turn to make my day. I’m sure it will be exciting.

Char

212-555-1212

P.S. – Fantasies do come true!”

I sat and laughed until tears were running down my cheeks. The sun was coming up and I could wait no longer. I picked up the phone and dialed the number on the card. It rang several times and went to voice mail, “Drew honey, I thought you might call. Get some sleep. I know you’ll need it later this evening. Call back after you are properly rested. Have yourself some champagne and caviar dreams. Do make them erotic. Kisses Char.”

I hand a great sleep that lasted until late that afternoon. After I awoke I found Char sitting on the couch in the living room of my suite, she looked up at me and asked, “Ready for more?”