Time Heals All Wounds

Time Heals All Wounds-2847

"If you think there are no new frontiers, watch a boy ring the front doorbell on his first date."

         Gabriel (Gabe) thought about that old quote by Olin Miller as he approached the home situated near the far northern edge of Atlanta. The bouquet of yellow roses weighed heavily in his hand as he pondered the old ‘circle of life’ adage his granny had pounded into his stubborn head as a child.

         This could be the validation of her folksy wisdom, he admitted to himself, although finding himself here was a parody of the way things should have happened. Or, would have happened many years ago, he amended.

         He’d been a widower for ten years now, and only the persistence of his adult children kept him from retreating into oblivion.

         He smiled to himself. Of course an occasional night out, listening to a good band or orchestra accompanied by a small glass of fine brandy wasn’t something to be dismissed too lightly; only fifty-six, he’d parlayed his home business into a tidy retirement package when he sold it just months ago.

         Looking down at the bouquet, he stopped for a moment, wondering who he was pleasing more, his kids or himself on this short quest. Contrary to their beliefs, he did remember his first date those many years ago; the intense angst causing his bowels to turn to mush. Not so much different now, he grunted.

         Despoina was a mystery, having moved into their area about two years ago. Apparently unemployed, and blessed with a huge inheritance, the social community reveled in her presence at many of the official and sometimes unofficial functions within the community. Still, no one had penetrated her wall of secrecy.

         Didn’t matter to him; Gabe slipped into the social scenery slow and easy, never making a statement, simply enjoying the company and conversation of others of his age and culture.

         Now he was being pressured to establish a relationship with the mysterious Despoina, undoubtedly to relieve both of them from what the locals considered dismal lives of loneliness. It worked in fairytales; it was supposed to work in real life as well, they thought. Meddling fools!

         The woman was an enigma to be sure, but not really a challenge he wished to pursue when the conspiracy began. Seemingly frozen in time, she dressed in period clothing, perhaps late 1800’s and early 1900’s, but didn’t appear to be much older than early 40’s herself. Eccentric, he thought, but definitely a fine looking woman.

         He’d spoken to her quite often, finding her witty, intelligent and well versed in everyday courtesies. Unlike most of his interactions with ‘old money’, he detected none of the usual haughtiness in her. One thing was certain however, he was beneath her status, and his humble origins would prevent any kind of serious relationship between them.

         Still, his children and friends relentlessly pressed him to initiate a deeper relationship with Despoina, citing the marvelous compatibility they seemed to enjoy. He in turn, cited their social and age differences, and his observation that she’d shown no inclination to date anyone since her arrival over two years ago.

         Their persistence began to wear thin on him, and Gabe finally formed a plan to stop them, but it required the approval and assistance of Despoina to execute it. He knew her fairly well; and he thought that she might be as annoyed as him at everyone’s match-making efforts.

         The opportunity to discuss his plan with her came during their incidental meeting at a concert one Saturday evening. Whenever he’d bumped into her, he felt like a bloody teenager and wasn’t sure why, since he was socially experienced but it’d been nearly four decades since he’d felt this ‘twitchy’ around a female.

         Overcoming his angst, he smiled and greeted her just outside her loge. He always sat in general seating, but he’d watched her enter this area many times over the past couple of years. That she nearly always showed up whenever he did fed the convictions of others that they belonged together.

         He watched her broad smile as he approached, encouraged that she’d be willing to assist him take some social pressure off themselves.

         After formalities, he outlined his plan for resolving the well-meaning match-making efforts of friends and family, but was momentarily taken aback by a small frown that appeared between her eyes. After a moment however, she smiled again, inviting him join her in the loge to discuss it in detail. He’d never been there before, and was surprised to find only two cushioned chairs in it, separated by a table.

         She pressed a buzzer, and moments later a waiter arrived with two drinks, a cocktail for her and a snifter of cognac for him; his favorite as it turned out. That he was surprised would have been an understatement, as no words passed between her and the waiter.

         While he discussed the plan, she commented occasionally, but her responses were accompanied either by placing her hand on his forearm, or gripping his hand and looking into his eyes. He couldn’t remember this much ‘touchy-feely’ before in their conversations, but he had no complaints, other than a few butterflies in his stomach.

         Their ‘date’ was set for the following week on Saturday night, and Gabe suggested Despoina pick the place where they’d spend the evening. Of course he offered to pick her up at home.

         He wasn’t quite sure where they were supposed to go, so he hedged his bet and dressed up rather than down, creating an additional level of angst to his preparations to meet her. Drawing on memories from his high school days, he tried to reconstruct the dating rituals, but felt like a complete idiot. Hell, he was in his fifties!

         So here he was, standing at her doorway in a suit, shined shoes, and a bouquet of flowers imprisoned in his sweaty hands. He’d thought about candy, but wasn’t sure whether she’d like them. Everyone liked flowers, he figured.

         He was about to ring the doorbell when the door opened, and was greeted by Despoina, resplendent in early 1900’s clothing. Surprised, a quick glimpse revealed the interior of the house matched her theme, and before he knew it, she’d led him into the foyer.

         Despite his surprise, he admired the museum quality of the furnishings, and thought he could actually feel comfortable here. Despoina was a vision of elegance, dressed in a ruffled blouse with high collar, and a pink walking skirt. Black high-buttoned shoes were the finishing touch to her ensemble.

         While he admired her period coiffeur, she removed his jacket, accepting his bouquet while inhaling their scent with appreciation. As eccentric as she dressed, and as strange as this scene seemed, he felt at ease and relaxed—curiously at home. The soft scent of lavender lay in the air and the quiet refrains of Schubert played in the background, further ensnaring his mind, and possibly his soul.

         As she led him into her dining area, it became evident that they would be spending the evening here, in her curious world, and he was strangely relieved. No need to put on a façade for others, adding angst to an evening on the town. Now he would only be faced with one challenge this evening, and that would be not making a fool of himself with Despoina while they foiled their matchmakers.

         The scent changed as he followed her, and reaching the dining room table, she turned, loosened his tie, and unbuttoned the top button on his shirt. He followed this with gentle humor, thinking that he’d misread the young lady, and that she was playing this game a little too seriously. Still, it was comforting, and he thanked her.

         Baking smells wafted into the dining area as she seated him, and looking over the table he spotted a large glass of amber liquid guarding his seat, noting the table was set semi-formally for two, warm and private. The bouquet he’d brought graced the center of the table, a fitting ornament to their first ‘official’ date. The liquid was cognac of course, and his favorite. This time, he wasn’t surprised, and decided to go along with everything that evening, just to see how it played out.

         The woman was absolutely beautiful, and firmly set in her own world. Not that it was a bad thing, Gabe decided—there was a lot to be said for this particular era she represented. Warmth, comfort, and a sense of self sufficiency crowned an elegant style that had only lost its innocence when victimized by ‘The Great War.’ Pity, that…

         They hadn’t exchanged but a few words since he’d entered the house, but the whole place seemed to embrace him, and he found it difficult to keep his eyes off her. She kept her eyes on him as well, and with a wry little twist to her lips, appeared as though she knew something he didn’t—yet.

         The vision of this beautiful woman moving about the room in everyday domestic movements struck a chord in his heart, and he wondered why he’d never noticed her in that light before now. Seated, he watched as she brought out a dinner for two, obviously homemade, but as unusual as she was.

         Squab, he thought, simply because they were too small to be Cornish Hens, baked to a golden brown, topping a bed of wild rice, and smothered in thick, rich brown gravy. A desert of peaches flambé served over ice cream completed the dinner, and once the dishes were cleared, she led him to the ‘parlor?’ He hadn’t seen a parlor outside of movies in years.

         Placing another snifter into his hands, she sat next to him, watching him intently. After a few moments, she asked, “Gabe, what are you thinking?” As she waited for his answer, she stroked his forearm with her fingertips, causing chills to run up his spine. To his embarrassment, he felt an erection beginning to form, and shifted his body to hide it.

         Suddenly nervous, his hands damp and cold, he mumbled something about not wanting to put her out too much on this contrived date, and that he’d make it up to her one day soon.

         Allowing him one deep sip from his glass, she gently took it from his hand and set it, and hers on the coffee table. Grasping his hands in hers, she looked up into his face and queried, “Contrived?”

         He noticed that she had that little frown once more, and her fingertips were actually caressing the palms of his hands, making him even more nervous. He was unable to respond to her comment, but began to sense that theirs was more a meeting of destiny, not a simple plot to fool matchmakers.

         He watched as she brought his hands to her lips, and kissed them, all while looking deeply into his eyes. This intimate gesture turned his gut into a quivering mass of jelly, and he felt his blood rush to his head; in truth, to both heads, large and small.

         Like a bloody schoolboy, he thought. God, she’s lovely. He was still speechless as she continued.

         “How long does our courtship have to be, Gabe? I’ve spent the last two years courting you. I’m not young anymore, and my opportunities for easing my loneliness are slipping away. You’re perfect for me Gabe, and I know you share my feelings, but I’m not a terribly patient woman.”

         Her face was just an inch away from his as she spoke, and he felt himself falling under her spell. “P-Patient?” he stuttered.

         “Look at us, Gabe!” she exclaimed. “For us there is no tomorrow; we need to gather up our lives and live.”

         While she spoke, her hands placed his on her chest, and she asked him to tell her what he felt. Aside from the pounding of her heart, he felt soft, warm breasts; at least those parts that extended above her blouse.

         Those parts were enough however, to cause a crack in the bulwark of his emotional defenses. Reflexively, he massaged her breasts, whether that was her original intent or not, and found her nipples, eliciting an immediate, and sensual response. Her response seemed to stimulate his, and seeing no resistance, he leaned in to kiss her.

         The kiss was absolute magic, and there was a profound moment of serendipity as she pressed her body into his. They almost became as one. He felt power surge through his body as they embraced, and things began to become surreal. She spoke.

         “Can you feel it, Gabe?” she whispered. “The god’s have left, and only those they’ve cursed remain, searching for the end of our loneliness.”

         Gabe searched her face for answers, but could only see more questions. That he was taken in by what was happening this evening was a given; what he intended to do about it wasn’t.

         “The Yin; the Yang, Gabe, that’s what it’s all about. We are what completes our whole.” she continued.

         Resplendently adorned with an erection, his hands on her breasts, and his heart pounding wildly in his chest, he could only ask, “Who are you; really?”

         As he asked that question, in his own mind he knew the answer didn’t really matter; he was already in love with this woman. He still tried to sort out what he’d been missing in clues over the past two years.

         While he was distracted, Despoina had unbuttoned his shirt, and was unbuckling his belt. His hands hadn’t moved from her breasts, but he felt no embarrassment; instead, he allowed the sensations of her touch, both given and received, to fuse his soul to hers.

         She moved with purpose, him—not so much. He was still confused, although things were definitely going the way he’d always dreamt it should. His pants had magically joined the fate of his shirt, and she was already tugging on his boxers. For him, the magic had just begun.

         In his living memory, he’d never been seduced, but hers was an exercise in perfection. There was no resistance, on either side. They slipped into a physical union that seemed destined to have happened. A perfect fit.

         He may have been extremely rusty in the arts of love, but his body remembered, as her clothing disappeared under his talented hands. It was something that he needed, having been missing these many years. She promised adventure, excitement, and companionship. These two years past had already demonstrated that she possessed those qualities in a woman that he most admired. What was happening now was a validation of their physical compatibility.

         “Are you sure?” he whispered, finding himself naked on the couch with her on top, equally naked. “Our age differe—“he continued, but her laugh interrupted him.

         “We have a lot to talk about, Gabe,” she interrupted, “but not now,” and recaptured his mouth in hers, twisting her tongue deep around his, fighting for dominance.

         Dominance was not in her cards this day, as Gabe soon took charge of the situation, biting her lips, moving down to her breasts, taking each into his mouth in turn, using her moans as cues to their pleasuring. His old plan was forgotten, but a new plan had asserted itself, but it was still unclear who was seducing who. He decided that it didn’t matter, and put his energy into the pleasures at hand.

         Although his first date jitters this night resembled those of his youth, he found confidence in experience gained over the decades. Her pleasure became his, as he moved his lips down her quivering belly to her pubis, reveling in her smell, her sounds and her touch.

         She in turn, gave him equal pleasure with her mouth, touch and receptiveness, and once he’d finally entered her, offered him something more. A fit; a perfect fit, he thought. Her skin was smooth as silk, and her sex seemed to have a life of its own, ultimately bringing both of them to a somewhat quick, but intense ending. It seemed that their meeting this evening was long overdue.

         It could be said that their mutual sense of patience made up for their first coupling, as they became determined to examine the ways and means for providing maximum pleasure to each other, while delaying their ultimate climax as long as possible. Yes, he thought, a perfect fit.

         Finally, as they lay there exhausted, she nibbled on his lips, tasting him lovingly, and as he fell deeper under her enchantment she whispered to him, “Your plan was brilliant, Gabe.”

         Still wrapped in the warmth of consummated sex, he responded, “Plan? But…”

         She shushed him, and then pointed out, “Your plan worked perfectly Gabe; no one will be trying to match us up anymore. We’ve taken that little task out of their hands.”

         Before he could answer, she pressed her lips firmly against his, moving her tongue into his mouth as though to recharge his exhausted batteries.

         It worked, and another passionate joust soon roared into play; a harbinger of two renewed lives.

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