Tuesday, June 27, 2006
In Old Cape Cod
The Beginning
A Love Story that should have been
And may still
by Jo Smith
I walked into the plush piano bar one Fri night.
My friend Nelda and I had been country dancing for several hours and came by here to cool down. She had been coming here for a while, during the week, to sing. She has a beautiful voice and the piano player enjoys playing for her.
Tonight was the first time I had come with her.
The cooled air felt good on my face and the music sounded good. As we approached the piano bar many in the crowd smiled and spoke to my friend. She had made several friends and admirers since she started singing most every evening.
I felt like I wouldn't like the place because it was much more formal than the club we went to dance, though they did have a tiny dance floor, no one seemed to dance. Dress was not the problem, I always dressed as sophisticated as you would find anyplace.
I don't go to bars to drink, I go to dance.
The crowd was friendly and the men free with their praise and complements. Most all of them offered to buy us anything we wanted to drink. They were amazed to find I drink coffee and Nelda, coke.
Two of the men got up and gave us their seats. The piano bar is really just that, a piano with a bar built over and around it. We took the seats they insisted we sit in and took off our coats. It was winter and 17 degrees outside but after coming straight from dancing we were glad to take off our fur coats. I enjoyed the people and the music ... and the attention.
The night went by and eventually all the men and a few women came by our seats and introduced themselves. One man was particularly interesting. He never moved too far from my side and as the different people came up he would introduce them to me as if I was with him.
"Do you dance?"
"I love to dance, are you asking me to dance or just do I dance?" I smiled and noticed he was sinking into my eyes.
"I would love it if you would dance with me," and he led me to the dance floor with his arm around my back as if I were his date.
When we reached the dance floor he slowly drew me into his strong arms and against his powerful shoulder. We danced a few steps and he looked at me.
"I have a slight limp, do you mind?"
"No," I said as I burried myself deeper into his shoulder. He smelled wonderful.
He held me firm and close as we slowly danced around the floor. Soon his breathing became deeper and faster. His arms tighten around me and his head slid into the crook of my neck. I could feel his breath.
"Um, you smell so good, exactly as a woman should. You move like fluid, no matter how I turn."
"Thank you."
He bent his lips close to me and whispered, "I'm going to kiss you. Do you object?"
Now who was drowing in whose presence? His smell, gaze, feel! Object, I thought I might faint if he didn't.
"No."
His lips touched mine softly as I folded into him. His breath was coming fast and I could feel it on my face. He leaned into the kiss with more urgency and bent me back slightly. He slowly began to move his lips in a rotation, tasting me as he did. He made an ever so soft moan, as I thought . . . . . no there was nothing left of me to think with. I was completely caught up in the man I was so close to.
When he ended the kiss, my knees went limp. He still had a firm hold on me, so I stood as he braced me with his arms and body.
He spent the rest of the evening at my side talking or holding me close on the dance floor.
As the lights went up and the music stopped at 2am, we were still talking like old friends. His eyes were still dark with emotion and gleaming as he looked deep into mine as if trying to get inside them.
"I don't want you to leave," he told me as he took hold of each arm and pulled me close.
"I know but all good things etc etc.," was my flip reply.
"Joke if you like but someday you will stay with me. Forever."
He looked again at me and smiled.
"Nice."
"I'll see you here tomorrow night."
And then he turned and left.
(More about this later)
A Love Story that should have been
And may still
by Jo Smith
I walked into the plush piano bar one Fri night.
My friend Nelda and I had been country dancing for several hours and came by here to cool down. She had been coming here for a while, during the week, to sing. She has a beautiful voice and the piano player enjoys playing for her.
Tonight was the first time I had come with her.
The cooled air felt good on my face and the music sounded good. As we approached the piano bar many in the crowd smiled and spoke to my friend. She had made several friends and admirers since she started singing most every evening.
I felt like I wouldn't like the place because it was much more formal than the club we went to dance, though they did have a tiny dance floor, no one seemed to dance. Dress was not the problem, I always dressed as sophisticated as you would find anyplace.
I don't go to bars to drink, I go to dance.
The crowd was friendly and the men free with their praise and complements. Most all of them offered to buy us anything we wanted to drink. They were amazed to find I drink coffee and Nelda, coke.
Two of the men got up and gave us their seats. The piano bar is really just that, a piano with a bar built over and around it. We took the seats they insisted we sit in and took off our coats. It was winter and 17 degrees outside but after coming straight from dancing we were glad to take off our fur coats. I enjoyed the people and the music ... and the attention.
The night went by and eventually all the men and a few women came by our seats and introduced themselves. One man was particularly interesting. He never moved too far from my side and as the different people came up he would introduce them to me as if I was with him.
"Do you dance?"
"I love to dance, are you asking me to dance or just do I dance?" I smiled and noticed he was sinking into my eyes.
"I would love it if you would dance with me," and he led me to the dance floor with his arm around my back as if I were his date.
When we reached the dance floor he slowly drew me into his strong arms and against his powerful shoulder. We danced a few steps and he looked at me.
"I have a slight limp, do you mind?"
"No," I said as I burried myself deeper into his shoulder. He smelled wonderful.
He held me firm and close as we slowly danced around the floor. Soon his breathing became deeper and faster. His arms tighten around me and his head slid into the crook of my neck. I could feel his breath.
"Um, you smell so good, exactly as a woman should. You move like fluid, no matter how I turn."
"Thank you."
He bent his lips close to me and whispered, "I'm going to kiss you. Do you object?"
Now who was drowing in whose presence? His smell, gaze, feel! Object, I thought I might faint if he didn't.
"No."
His lips touched mine softly as I folded into him. His breath was coming fast and I could feel it on my face. He leaned into the kiss with more urgency and bent me back slightly. He slowly began to move his lips in a rotation, tasting me as he did. He made an ever so soft moan, as I thought . . . . . no there was nothing left of me to think with. I was completely caught up in the man I was so close to.
When he ended the kiss, my knees went limp. He still had a firm hold on me, so I stood as he braced me with his arms and body.
He spent the rest of the evening at my side talking or holding me close on the dance floor.
As the lights went up and the music stopped at 2am, we were still talking like old friends. His eyes were still dark with emotion and gleaming as he looked deep into mine as if trying to get inside them.
"I don't want you to leave," he told me as he took hold of each arm and pulled me close.
"I know but all good things etc etc.," was my flip reply.
"Joke if you like but someday you will stay with me. Forever."
He looked again at me and smiled.
"Nice."
"I'll see you here tomorrow night."
And then he turned and left.
(More about this later)
