Road of Betrayals

I am here to talk about an intense feeling. Not the intense feeling of love though this is a type of love. I am talking about the connection you feel to another person. Maybe they are a friend. Perhaps they are a colleague or even a therapist. The kind of feeling that makes you want to share all of you. Again this is not love that I am talking about, though this kind of connection can elicit a kind of love that can be mistaken for romantic love.

There is a very fine line between the two, but if you know yourself, you know the difference. I have spent the better part of my living years without friends and without connections, save one or two. I have spent the worse part of my living years breaking from betrayals and abuse. I had an idea of what friendship should be and I may have misconstrued a few for love. Perhaps not love, but attraction or at least that is the way that it came off. Sometimes you feel the emotion so strongly, you do not know what else to do, but to reach out and touch.

The power of touch makes things feel so much different. When I was less of an anxious person or when I did not allow anxieties to drive me, I was a touchy person. My friends and I always greeted with a hug and/or a European kiss kiss. We held hands or interlocked arms. We sat on each other or just held each other, but it was all platonic. I miss those touches, that connection. I have gone so long without allowing others to touch me.

Touching makes things feel too close. When I stopped trusting I stopped allowing others to touch me. Not just hugs and kisses. Not just handshakes and pats, but I kept my distance, so that there were no accidental contacts. The only ones who received my touch was family and my beloved fur and feathery babies.

I suppose I began to lose touch, pun intended, with people. I pushed and pushed and pushed them away. I could not trust them. I could not let anyone get close again. There was no way I was going to accept another betrayal. There was no way I was going to give someone the power to hurt me, to destroy me. I was done with human relationships. I had my wife and I had my family. Why would I need friends? Without their touch, I was safe.

That is what I thought. It was sight that made me yearn. I saw beautiful friendships. I saw people talk about their best friends with such delight that it reached through the sealed cracks of my walls. I suppose I should have sealed those cracks better. I yearned like I had never yearned before and I took a journey to find a connection that could complete me. What exactly I was searching for, I do not know. Have I found it? I am not sure. I do not think you can define if you have found something that is as strong as love that is not love, so let me just talk about where I have been.

I will not give ages, dates, or time frames to protect the privacy of those who have shaped this journey.

We had talked about one day moving in together, but I was the only one who wanted that. I compromised because all I wanted was this friend. “We can just live next to each other, that way we will always be close. It’ll be fun. Our children can play together and we can have Sunday dinners.”

“Yeah, okay.” He said and I took it. I held on to that as though it was my future. I had secured a friend for life. I could always depend on this person no matter how many more people betray me. I had this. If only it were that easy.

“Ugh she wants to marry me! Can you believe that? She wants to have kids.”

The whispers started. The laughs began. Conversations stopped when I walked by. I was mortified. I confronted him. A scene was made. I was unbecoming. I closed a little more.

I had a secret. I had no one to talk to. It was big and I was going to burst. I had known I needed to tell someone. It was not because someone told me to, but I knew innately what was happening was wrong. I confided. “Ew. That is disgusting. You are disgusting. Get away from me.” and she ran away.

“You can tell me anything.” She said. I chuckled, “I have heard that before.” She reached for my wrist, “Really. I see how you get treated. You can trust me.” I nodded my head. She seemed sincere. Could I really turn this down? “Okay”

Soon peril arouse and for safety I searched for my net only to be told, “Oh yeah about that, I lied.” And with a flip of her hair and a turn on her heel I closed a little more.

We spent all night talking every day since we met at the rink. We talked of our dreams and aspirations. We talked about our families and our friends. We talked about our fears and anxieties. I shared this with my friend as she had been there when we met. I was head over heels and blind too. “She called me you know. Your friend. How did she get my number? She said she wanted to hang out. That she could show me a better time.”

I was taken aback. Who could he be talking about? Certainly not any friend of mine. “You know the one you were with that night.” It was true. I had asked. How could she? He was honest, but she had been my friend.

I watched the game in silence as I jotted in my notebook. She came and sat next to me without a word. I glanced askance my guard immediately up. I knew who she was and I was drawn to her and that was why my guard was up. We exchanged a few words and I knew I was in trouble. “You seem like you need someone to talk to.”

“What makes you say that?” I said without glancing up. “You have not been smiling as much.”

“Not much to smile about.” Shit I was falling for it already.

“You can trust me. I am here for you.” And I laughed. “I have heard that more times than I can count.”

“Let me prove it to you. I like you and I want to be friends. You can tell me anything. Your secrets are safe with me.”

I was broken and vulnerable. I had lost much up to that point and I had not a soul I could trust. I was at a very low point in my life and I fed from the crumbs that were offered to me. I succumbed to that invitation of friendship and trust and it was good. It was a catharsis. It was home. I betrayed her. I failed to see that she was falling for me and I betrayed her. I fell to my knees and screamed out in agony over what I had done and she forgave me, but it was not forgotten.

Soon that letter came. That letter that said we could not be friends anymore. I can’t bear your secrets anymore. It just got too complicated. I was crushed. I was alone. I had written my own fate.

She was a breath of fresh air. A totally platonic friendship. We knew everything about everyone and we gossiped to no ends. We dabbled in the lives of people, a little Munchausen syndrome with a twist. We shared our deepest secrets and came to know that one was the same. She came in around the time I met this girl. This girl that stole my breath, literally. By then I had severe mood swings, but there was no blaming, what we call now, mental instability. I am losing this girl and it was because I was not stable and when she slipped through my fingers into the hands of a mutual friend, she told me to leave them alone. I was pushed away and I lost my girl, my friend, and our mutual friend. I was alone once again.

I have to stop here, I am not sure how much more I can share. I am reliving these stories as I am writing them and it does not feel good. My heart is heavy for the losses I have accumulated and I miss the times in which they were good. I have learned from these betrayals and many more I cannot live again. I was closed and distrustful of all who uttered a word to me or even dared to make eye contact. I lived with my eyes open even when they were shut. I was not going to get hurt again.

Somehow that yearning came back. I was lonely. I had fulfilled love. I had a growing family of nieces, nephews, and cousins. A good enough job and life was content enough, but there was that yearning. That hole, which had never been filled, though deliberately prevented.

I had to know. I had to know, what? I do not know and there my journey began. I observed those I met with a distant eye, but with inquisitive closeness. A couple lasted, though not great, until the one. The one where I may have gotten it right.

I had shown too much. My tears had been seen. I panicked and sobbed unbecomingly. My fears had come to light and my mask had been torn away. What else could I have done, but kept this one close to me? I could not let it be, as I did not know if my scene would be spoken for the whole world to see. No trust had been built. No boundaries had been placed around that day. I was at the mercy of a total stranger and I ran. I ran and ran and ran until the crossroads stopped me.

I could not breathe. I could not see. I felt my way along the fence and heard the traffic near. I thought about it. I really did, but knew one thing and picked up the phone and called my love. She set me up. It was confirmed. I slid to the earth, my stomach in knots. I could not breathe. My throat was thick. My head was hot and the pressure began to build. I felt sick. I wanted to run, but there was nowhere to run, except into traffic. Was it worth it?

“Breathe! Please just breathe.” Her voice broke through and I heard myself gasp. She did it because it was the only way they would understand. Sometimes you just have to show them. Nobody believes anxiety is real.

I walked back shaken and red eyed. I felt the walls closing in the rest of the day. She saw alright, but not much did she see. Nonetheless, it was enough and enough was too much. The seed of paranoia was sown and I struggled to pull my image back together.

I had sabotaged myself and little by little I fell apart. My life moved so fast in a downward spiral and I could not keep up. Before I knew it I was figuratively crawling on my knees through each and every day. I had lost everything and through my vulnerability, I reached out and made a friend.

I used everything I had learned. I shared little and inquired much and slowly I began to trust. I shared more because the main truth was already out and that made things a little easier. I came to rely on the wisdom and kindness my friend offered, but naturally I progressed cautiously. I had been down this road before.

Right now it is nice. It is blissful and it is comforting. I am scared, I will admit. I have to push myself sometimes because I fear I am too much. I am anxious about what I share, but I am always myself and I am always honest. I try to be what I want to have. If I am doing a good job, I do not know, but she is there and I am there and it is nice.

Never did I think that I could let someone in again. Never did I think that I could leave this type of opening in my walls. I feel it in my heart and in my gut and fear I cannot trust it, but I am doing it anyway because I have a different kind of feeling I have to trust. What to call it I do not know, but for the first time in a long time I have been open and honest in a way I never thought was possible. I mean it really has my mind blown.

But no matter what there is still too much of me to share and that, through all my stories, I have learned. I have in my past shared too much and clearly drove away all who came too close. I do not fear the same will happen, but I do fear that I am deliberately, yet subconsciously, keeping much under wraps. I am learning that no one person can be another’s rock. No matter how much one may need it, no one person can hold another up and if they are not strong enough themselves, they will fall as well.

I have fallen, many times, and alone too. I have gotten used to that and I expect it too. What else can I say? Though this time feels different, I dare not expect that of which is portrayed in films of perfect friendships. After all this is reality, not Hollywood. My life is navigating through a road of betrayals.


Free Verse

It has been a long while since I have just whipped out the computer and wrote freely. I have been feeling a lot of things lately and it has given me a ride. There is only one person I really talk to, but even then I hold back a lot. No person can help me or give me what I need to make it through my troubles. This friend of mine has been a true blessing in my life (a life saver) and I do not think that I can express it enough, my gratitude towards it all. I do not want to appear clingy, so I hold back near everything. Not just in my gratitude, but in my troubles. I know that everyone has troubles and we all handle them the best we can, but sometimes we get so consumed in our troubles that we feel when we talk to others, that is all we have to offer. For me it is like this and although it may not be true, I feel shame in not being able to offer more than my troubles. I have other friends, but the one I have come trust is my main concern. I fear that I have not been the person I have once been and that person is the friend I once was. It is nearly like the more I share the less I receive and not because there is less to share, but because she may think that I cannot handle the trouble of others with the troubles I have of my own.
I once said that my happiness comes from the happiness of others, but I think that an important and most often forgotten part of that which was said is that my happiness comes from being the friend I always wished I had had. The one that no matter what troubles of one’s own comes it does not prevent the love and compassion that one can emit to another during their own troubles. I am strong, I will not deny. I have looked at others with troubles and wonder how they cannot push through, but I remember that I once, or several times, could not make it through some situations without the support of others. Those experiences has assisted me as I have gone through worse troubles. The knowledge of others’ troubles puts mine into perspective, but also softens me when my troubles hardens me too much.
I have a friend who is newer than the one I trust. He is male and has been a fresh breath of air. Though because of the newness the getting to know each other’s frustrations and actions out of frustrations that has me writing today. Actually I am not sure that is true, but here I still type.
I have had troubles that span across changes, sickness, mental illness, aging, death, exhaustion, existentialism, and even identity. Though they trouble me it is a long way from the troubles that surround me that my friends and family have. Unfortunately, I realize that the more I share the more it seems that I am not capable of being spoken to as a friend that is spoken to by another. I am not sure that maybe that is the universe trying to tell me to slow down and worry about myself or my guilt of not taking the time for myself. I so often want to step out of my own life and into another to pretend that my life may or may not be getting worse.
I sometimes fear that I am blind to what is going on around me. I have been naïve and I probably still am. I was raised very sheltered and to this day I am still finding out the extent of humanity’s faults. I used to think the best of people no matter what, but life has taught me that most people have alternate motives for their presence in my life. It is a feeling I have yet to shake since I have become jaded, which is why I keep the friends that I have acquired.
The friend that I trust is just so bright, far from the stormy she was almost named. She may not think so, but she makes me want to be a better person. I do not share the darkest parts of me for fear of the rejection that may ensue. There are secrets I dare not share. I feel mostly childish around my friend when I share my troubles. I hold back because there is so much of me to be ashamed of. It is a feeling I have yet to shake. I know it is in my head. My friend has always let me know that she is there for me no matter what. That I can never deny. It is battle that is my own and I expect no one else to cater to it. I am not a child, yet that is how I always feel.
My newer friend has gone through a lot. Much more like what I have gone through than my trusted friend (as far as I know). He has shared much, but nonetheless this friend is as gregarious as it comes. How can I feel the connection of understanding for a person who is inspired and filled with energy by the presence of people? I have come to learn about myself that I am not really the person who can withstand the constant flow of people in the city. I am a deep person who craves a deeper connection than a lot of friends and knowing of a lot of people. I am deeper than being in public places and popular venues. I am an internal person who seeks a deeper meaning in people’s lives than being the fun loving person that most people seek in life. I am one who is often misunderstood even by my own kin and friends.
I am not opposed to being friends with those who crave the night life type of life. I am not opposed to those who stay positive in all aspects of their lives like the shining sun. I am just the type of person who has gone through so much and has realized that the veil of childhood shelter can no longer protect me from the life I had never known. It is a life that has me wondering if this is ever where I was meant to be. Yet, I remember the lives that have come into mine and know that I am meeting those who will help me on my journey to wherever I was meant to go. No one will ever be willing to understand my life the way I have come to know, but then again everyone else has their own life to evaluate. I will never have the type of friendships I have once come close to. Life as an adult is different than the lives of those of childhood friends, but the little girl inside me still has some kind of hope that one day she will have the type of best friend that will never leave her side or unleash their own troubles regardless of the troubles I may have.

What Right Have I?

My father was not a drunk, my mother was not an addict.

My uncle did not rape me, and that is a fact.

So many others have it worse, so many mountains are taller.

Looking down below, the actual act of jumping is so much harder.

I turn back around and trudge back down the stairs.

One by one, they each stand, all the little hairs.

My senses are heightened, my guard is back up.

I take a deep breath and blow out the evidence left that I was about to jump.

My mother’s boyfriends did not touch me, nor did my father’s girlfriends.

My father did not peep at me, nor did my sister’s friends.

So why am I so fucked up? My past is not the worst.

Yet, I walk around undone, the tears always threatening to burst.

The alarm goes off and tear rolls up my cheek.

Damn! Another day, another night, fuck this got damned week.

I open my eyes, still alive, damn! I turn off the alarm.

I cry, I moan, I groan, then touch the scars on my arm.

Another failure, another reminder, why am I still here?!

I drag myself through the steps, pushing down the rising fear.

So many others have it worse, what right have I to feel shame?

For my unworthiness, I have only myself to blame.

They come and they go, but they are convincing enough.

The thoughts that teach me I am not so tough.

This mask I hide behind to keep concealed my dysfunction.

After all, what right have I to do anything, but function?

My mother did not whore me, my father did not leave me.

So many others have it worse, you do not dare to disagree.

Often, I am always trying to divert my mind.

Often I fail and curled up in a ball, I decline.

My brother did not pass me around to his friends.

My cousin did not force anything to my ends.

What right have I to be broken down and disheveled?

After all, I was loved. I was not bedeviled.

Yet, an unforced smile has yet to reach my lips.

Living life unapologetically, I have yet to have in my grips.

In a continuous state of high anxiety,

I long for a life outside of society.

But what right have I to wish for better?

For my thought crimes, am I not the debtor?

My father did not hate me, my mother did not abort me.

So many others have it worse and by a much higher degree.

I am not worthy of catching a break despite the ache.

Why ruminate over the fact that I was mistake?

As wrong as it was it took years to say no.

As fearful as I was, I could not let anybody know.

To have a good experience with your abuser.

How can you then deem yourself an accuser?

You cannot enjoy it and be the victim too.

But is that really true?

My father did not impregnate me, my mother did not thrash me.

What do I have to be depressed about? I live on the land of the free!

Yet joyful I cannot bring myself to be

And worth in myself I cannot bring myself to see.

What right have I to be distraught?

What right has my mind to be overwrought?

So many others have it worse.

What right have I to feel my life amerce.

I have a strong roof over my head.

My spouse still faithful in our wedding bed.

I am not one who lives in poverty.

I was raised lovingly and properly.

My education is vast and I know all the words in mass.

I have a great job and I am advancing rather fast.

My health is impeccable and body too,

So what hardships can I really be going through?

I was not forced by lack of choice to work the mines.

I do have the choice to avoid any fines.

Every day I have the means to be squeaky clean.

I even have the mind and means to dream.

So what right have I to be submerged in woe?

What right have I to do anything, but grow?

After all, my father did not rape me.

My mother did not whore me.

Function Anyway

She is not hungry, but knows she needs to eat, but not too much. She is not tired, but knows she needs to sleep or she is too tired, but knows she cannot sleep her days away. She does not care what she looks like, but knows she needs shower and brush her teeth even if she does not look in the mirror. She does not care to exist, but knows she needs to function.

Picture Source: or

The Aztec Princess in my Dreams – pt 1

I have not been able to get her out of my mind as I lay in bed besides my fluffy black cat who lightly snored. This girl … This Siren, plagued my thoughts and all I could do was enter her dreams. I lit five candles and drew my circle, laid in the center, protected, I closed my eyes. I began a fantasy that we might share.

A place and time that none would ever know. I held her in my mind as clear as the light around me.

I repeated her name over and over again. Calling her. I visualized her long black hair, thick as a zebra’s mane. I pictured those long luscious locks cascading over her shoulders and around her bare flesh, the very contrast to her toasted velvety flesh. I pictured my fingers caressing every inch of her body. The picture of her, so vivid in my mind. The feel of her beneath me, so real I could feel her shudder beneath my touch.

What took my breath away was how she moved beneath me wrapping her arms and legs around me, pulling me closer. I felt her breath against my ear whispering sweet nothings, heightening the sensation between my legs. I continued chanting her name, picturing this fantasy.

I imagined how she might smell. Sweet?  Floral? Musky? Woodsy, maybe. I close my eyes and breathe in this moment. How in this moment I want, nothing more than, her. A will of nothing more, but to be a Goddess to this Aztec Princess. I tremble at the thought of finally kissing her, holding her, tasting her and entering her. Oh, God! And this is just In MY HEAD.

I continued to picture and imagine what it would be like. How might those mulberry lips taste? Will they be sweet? Will they be wet? Will they be smooth? Will they feel as plump as they appear? Would she let me nibble them as I always do? Would she gasp at my touch and tremble under my lips?
Her dark eyes gaze back at me. Her soul seemingly peering into mine.

I study her for a moment. Her dark eyes lined with cat eye black. The line flicking out perfectly like a whip.

Her long lashes swooping up and down with sheer elegance. I was in a deep trance. Her eyes held me captive. Her gaze arrested my control and for that moment there was no one. There was no thing except her, except my fantasy of her. I brought the back of my hand to her round face and gently caressed her cheek.

Nervousness suddenly surged through me. What if this worked? What if I succeeded? What if I ended up in her dream and we have my fantasy? What if she is appalled? What if my fantasy is her nightmare? I hesistate. God damn this anxiety!

My fingers ceases exploration and I hold my breath. Fear washes over me.

A feeling I have long ago forgotten. Her rejection would hurt. Suddenly, my heart ached something terrible. What was I doing to myself?

I closed my eyes trying to regain control, but a soft touch made me open my eyes in my fantasy, but now I cannot look at you. I cannot meet your gaze. I am too vulnerable. Too fragile, so I settle my gaze on your lips. Your beautiful lips. I gasp feeling your hand on my neck. I forced my eyes from

rising to yours. I move down and settled my gaze on your cute little chin. Two perfect moles gave it

character. You lifted my chin and without hearing you, I knew, you were calling my name. “Look at

me.” your voiceless words rang loudly in my ears. My eyes snap to yours and the fear and

nervousnes swept over me once again. I am lost in the hold you have over me.

I decide to relish in the feeling, afterall, I am in your dream. I focus my nervousness on your

pleasure. My hand slides down your torso and I feel you shudder. I kiss your neck and taste it too.

You press your body to mine and now I know you want me too. This dream just became reality. I feel your body rise beneath me. Your sex pulsating atop mine. You roll me over and mount me pulling off my top. Ravenously, you take my breast and wrap your lips around it. Your tongue, like magick, strips me further of my control. My head falls back and I stifle my moans. I bring my hand up and entangle them in your dark locks and pull your face to mine. This is the

moment I dreamed about. This moment of gazing into your dark eyes and you into mine with equal

desire. I relish this moment of before. The anticipation. Your legs straddling mine. Your hands on my flesh, your

breath is mine and your body too. I savor the moment of perfection and wonder one

last time. I bring your lovely, luscious lips to mine and a spark shocks us both, yet neither pull


My lips firmly planted onto yours and it was more than I ever dreamed, more than I ever imagined,

more than any could offer. You pressed harder into me pushing me back. Our lips parted.

Bittersweet, but you gazed at me with a look I had never been given before. You bit your lip and the

gaze became passion. A passionate gaze that I have only dreamt about.

My heart ceased to beat, my breath refused to draw and my eyes would not blink. You had me

paralyzed with just your gaze and your kiss brought me a miracle. I evoked the Goddess within and

I feel the candles’ flame sore upward around my physical being. Back in our dream the heat is your

hot body atop mine. Melting into mine like carmel and chocolate, like peaches and cream, like

honey and tea. Together we made everything better and we have not even begun because this is the

best feeling. The before. The closeness the intimacy without having yet been intimate and I

think you feel it too.

The way you close your eyes and moan under my sliding fingers on your spine. The way you inhale

when my breath warms your ear and the way your nails dig into my back when I nibble on your

lobe. You bring yourself closer giving me little room to work. I hold your hips and grind into me

throwing your head back in ectasy. You ride me like I am in you and I hold your hips as you

increase your speed allowing yourself to peak before kissing me again on my lips then my cheek,

my ear, my neck. When you reach my collar bone I tremble and you focus there listening to my

body’s language. You caress my collarbone to my ear with your flicking tongue and I feel my

wetness increase and puddle beneath me. You work your way down my neck again and I turn

exposing it more and you smile against me before gently biting me, harder and harder until I yelp in

painful pleasure and you laugh teasingly, licking the ‘wound’ before nipping again. I push you over

pinning you on your stomach and sucking the back of your neck my hands on your wrists and I sitting on your thighs. You struggle to move and I whispered, “You started it.”

I run my tongue along your spine. You try to retract, but with nowhere to go you give your pleasure

to me in a song sweeter than the birds. The salty flesh is candy to my tongue and I slowly release

your wrist and move farther down your spine. Your hips raise and your ass fills the space between

us. SMACK! Of course I would and you moan and grunt with every strike of my hand imprinted on

each cheek.

My tongue reaches the end of your spine and I wait listening to your wordless speech. You grind

and squirm into me lifting your ass in invitation to do what I please. The possibilities flashed

through my mind instataneously…

Raindrops in Masses

I enjoy watching the rain fall and crash.

At first it seems violent and rash,

As it slams into the black asphalt below,

Seemingly, so seemingly, without control.



Like the tears of an angel over a lost charge

shooting down from now empty eyes, enlarged.

They crash into the hardness without splash,

Banging its head, it is all balderdash.



Slowly, the drop rises, seemingly getting up

Just for another drop to bash it or bump

And snap off pieces making the drop smaller



And smaller until there are only tiny beads

Barely touching each other, spread out like seeds. 

To touch and snap back unto itself.



And then it all gentles  just enough to expand

Seemingly like reaching for the next hand.

Hand in hand they coalesce and rise.

They rise fiercely, faster and faster hands tied,



Rising together higher and higher,

Fuller and fuller, and like fire

Stronger and stronger, predictability

Swallowing all in its path, indifferently.



As they become one powerful entity,

Each drop loses its identity.

Much like the masses of people

Who turn on each other instead of to the steeple,



But they forget, what rises also must set

And as the waters recede, all that they beset

Is once again exposed to the light of day;

Baptized and renewed to create a new display.

A New Fantasy

Her laugh carried across the room and faintly reached my ears through my closed office door. I sighed as the executives in my meeting shook their heads at what I thought was pleasant cacophony. Clearly my employees were having more fun than I.


I watched her through the window flip her blond mare over her left shoulder as the room simmered down after whatever made the office burst into laughter. Her eyes reverting to her computer screen and her fingers settling back onto the keyboard when suddenly the blinds snapped shut. My office director glaring at my nonattentiveness. Could she blame me though? This new owner droned on about everything we already knew about. The importance of attendence, the importance of being meticulous and so on. I mean come on, every person in this meeting has been running this company for ten years or more. The only reason we have a new owner is because the last one died and the wife sold it. Of course though this new owner walkst in and acts like he is saving our mulitbillion dollar company. My director told me to play nice and I believe I was doing well, but I presume my well doing was more like a student in class, attentive enough to not get called on.


Two hours later the meeting ended and I needed to re energize. I made a B-line to the coffee pot in the office breakroom. After cup two I filled my to-go mug and returned to my now empty office. I reopened the blinds and left my door ajar.


I checked my email and called for my messages. Nothing of importance was brought to my attention, so I  began checking my physical mail, which sat at my feet in the form of three boxes and six carrier bags. I hated physical mail and my director won’t let me have an assistant. I don’t really need one, but I just don’t want to sort through all this mail.


Then a soft knock comes to the door, “Come in!” I say happy for the distration.


She slowly pushed open the door stepping in and closed it behind her. “Vera may I speak with you? Is this an okay time?” she asks, her strange blue eyes piercing me through and through.


I gesture for her to take a seat, “What is on your mind Mitzy?”


“Well I have been here a few months now and all my feedback has been nothing short of excellent. My numbers continue to improve each day. I believe I have earned the right to be re evaluated for a pay raise.”


I watched her clamp her hands together in her lap to keep them from betraying her, but the sweat on her nose betrayed her anyway. She was nevous, but courageous for a newbie. Her eyes darted and briefly settled on everything, but me.


“I do not deny these listed truths. I will re evaluate you and your performance here and if I believe they are higher than the company standards then I will consider a bump in your salary.”


She seemed to have finally taken a breath since walking into my office and her strange blue eyes met mine with a force that had me pushing back into my chair. Unbeknownst to Mitzy, she was my eye candy, which is why I placed her within view of my office, so when she returned to her desk, I observed her as she seemed a little more relieved, but nonetheless determined.


I returned to my work of sorting and reading mail, but after a few minutes I strayed from the ardous task and watched her work as I have countless times before.


I wasn’t the one who had hired her or even the one who had received her resume. She was put on my team five months ago and had become an asset among my newbies. She was not anywhere close to being on the level team, but she was my best newbie. In about a year or so she may be good enough to be on the team I take on events three times a week at least. She certainly has the looks for it. A lot prettier than my last eye candy.


My last eye candy, Rainassi, was beautiful. She had dark hair and mysterious dark brown eyes. She too was a phenomenal worker. She made it to my top team in six months and I had taken her to my prime example to the newbies. It was perfect for the first year, but then she grew an ego and became lustful. She began a long streak of being inappropriate with the newbies and I had to make an executive decision to release her lest I be released for letting it happen on my watch. Later, I learned she had been re-admitted to the psychiatric facility for going off her meds. The pretty ones are always crazy.


The day slowly came to an end and I began to gather my things. I had gotten through two of the mail carrier bags and was quite proud of myself and decided after I locked up I was going to let someone buy me a drink and possibly let them take me home.




I walked into my favorite club across town wearing a tight red dress that exposed my belly, criss-crossed up and around my neck and down my back, but swooped to the side leaving my lower back exposed. The dress reached my knees in the front and my calves in the back. My gold clutch matched my stilletos. My black toe nails matched my fingernails and my shoulder-length hair cascaded wherever it pleased.


Before I made it to the VIP area I was offered a drink by four men and two women. All were clearly out of my class and I was not trying to give chances. Hence, the VIP section, which sported high class people, top-shelf drinks and private enclaves. My presence, wanted more often, was a rare occurence. I cannot frequent the same place too often.


This place I like though. Not to many clubs have these sections especially any labeled pansexual club, which is what I am, although I lean towards women more, natural, post-op, and pre-op.


Flashing a smile and my pass I walked past the golden barrier into a much more classy atmosphere. I have my clutch and coat checked and walk over to the live band playing their reindition of Aerosmith’s “Walk This Way”.


I smile at the lead singer who returns with an animated wink as he strutted across the stage showing how to walk. He was my best friend Calden Smith since high school. He had dark hair dyed blond, green eyes with blue contacts, and at a height of 5’9 he elevates to 5’11 1/2 with special shoes and inserts. He says the height gives him a stronger stage presence. I am not so sure, but that is his life.


I sat at my customary enclave and leaned back onto the soft oversized pillows and crossed my legs tucking my right foot behind my left calf. Before the end of my exhale I had my first vistor.


“Good evening Vera. In good spirits I hope.” he said.


I motioned him to sit across from me and as he did the drinks he ordered came. In this VIP section every drink is made in front of the drinkers, so as I watched the server set up his little round table I responded. “My spirits Jacobe are certainly not down tonight. How are you?”


Jacobe was tranced by the server’s drink making skills as he flipped, poured, spun and stirred the martinis Jacobe thinks I like, but it is okay because I need to begin my drinking binge somewhere or rather with something.
He did not answer me until our drinks were served and the server left to idle close by. “My night brightened when you walked in.” After a sip he continued, “Long week, but nothing that cannot be fixed by a great weekend. Especially one started with you.”


I chuckled my aw so sweet with a mix of you are trying too hard. “I am not sure I know how to respond.”


“No need to. You have already responded by accepting a drink.” He finished off his drink. “I will return before the end of the night. Say you will save a dance for me.”


I offered a polite smile, “We shall see.” and knowing that would satisfy his need to hope I too finished my free drink.


I knew he had a date. He had them often. This time with a girl name Alyssa Pherra. She was the daughter of the local liquor store owner. Needless to say she was no stranger to men, but Jacobe was different, which is why I also know he chose her to get a rise out of me. He knows we will never be, but I allow him to hope by his request. I guess I began to care a little bit and he somehow noticed. In other words I am keeping a close eye on her which means on him too.


I watched him walk away and meet his date, but like I said I know he knows I care, which means I cannot watch. I turn my gaze to the dance floor.


A popular country song was playing which told me Calden and his band were on break. The floor was still pretty packed. Couples danced close with love and laughter in their eyes. Other couples one two stepped awkwardly. A few groups worked choreograghed  moves, but there was this one.


She ran her hand seductively through her dirty blond hair, a mixed drink in the other. She twisted her curvy hips all the way to the ground and halfway up, then manoevering her feet, she spun a one eighty. Her blue eyes tinted slate grey met mine across the room like a sparkling diamond in a black and white movie.


I held her gaze with curiousity, but I must confess it was quickly turning into fascination. That girl was having a good time and it appeared by herself.


Calden slipped into my enclave breaking my gaze, but it was welcomed, especially when he ordered a more favorable drink, Jack Daniels on the rocks.


“How goes it?” he asked sitting down crossing an ankle over his knee and leaning back.


“In the mood for…some attention.” I replied.


“Ah! I see. Well mate, you have certainly come to the right place. You have your eye on that tall blond over there in the jeans?”


“What do you know about her?” I sipped my drink and easily found her again in the crowd.


“Her name is Laura. She comes in a couple times or so every season. She is happily married and likes to drink. Fun, laid back, easy to get along with, I suppose.”


I sip my drink slowly to slow down my eager questions piling in the back of my thoat. I watched her sway her hips back and forth to the motion of the beat. She was certainly having herself a great time. She danced as though no one was around. As if she were locked away in her bedroom in an empty house.


“How do you know she is happily married.” I asked emphasizing the happily.


Calden glanced askance already knowing where my intentions lay. “Vera don’t. Her and her husband have been through a lot and they do not need a homewrecker breaking down what they have built.”


I was taken aback, but fought to not show it. I asked, “You think I am just a homewrecker?”


Without pause he answered, “No, but I have seen first hand what your involvement can do. I know Laura and her husband William. They are great people who are finally coming up from being down on their luck.”


I continued watching her make heads turn and jaws drop. No, I was not a homewrecker, but I was a pleasure seeker no matter where it came from.


Laura ran her hand through her hair again stopping halfway through before yanking it in a fist pulling her head back exposing her long slender neck. Taking her other (now empty) hand and caressing herself from her neck down her middle, biting her lip. Such a sultry move, she repeated it.


I narrowed my eyes, I could not see a happily married woman in a club like this dancing like that all while keeping me in view and catching my gaze and holding it. No, I was not a homewrecker. I gave others what they want, which includes me if that is the case.


Calden made me pause. A homewrecker? He never questioned my  pursuit of pleasure, which told me that there was something more, “You want her.” I state simply and finished my drink signaling for another.


“She is a happily married woman.” he said standing up, downing the remainder of his drink. “I have to go…Performance and all.” and walked away.


“Remember I asked.” I shouted uncharacteristically.


He paused midstep and then continued his left hand tensing before being shoved into his pocket.


Maybe not tonight I thought as my drink was being handed tome. The next time Laura, who now looked to me like a country barbie, looked at me I flashed my crotch  crossing my legs again opposite of what they were before. Then I wrapped my lips slowly around the straw I asked for and sucked not hiding my sexual intention.


For the rest of the evening she danced for me. Her eyes never left mine and her hands never stopped touching herself. I even sent a few drinks over, her favorite being Jack Fire, a cinnamon flavored whiskey. How did I figure she was a whiskey woman?


When I discovered it was her favorite I too ordered one for myself. My plans tonight had changed, but my new intentions were revealed and they were much better.


I watched her all night. She never stopped, not even to use the powder room. Her body still moved when she drank. What made me curious, and I do not know why until now, but how could she have gotten into this section wearing jeans and tennis shoes? VIP had a dress code and jeans and tennis shoes were the first on the not allowed list. Did she charm her way in? Does she know someone? If she knows someone I need to find out who and what they know about her.


Calden did not give me her full name. That should have been my first indication my second should have been that what he knew seemed to be limited until he said he knew them. I wonder if he was the one she knew and if that was why she was on this side of the golden barrier.


Another prospect came to the entrance of my enclave. “Did it hurt?”


Annoyed! “When I fell from heaven? No, I glided down gently and landed feet first.”


The guy, the attractive guy, raised an eyebrow before raising his lip. Clearly not expecting a turn down as quickly as I gave. I was ruining my reputation. “I am sorry. I just have heard that same line three times this night.” I motioned, “Come have a seat and let us try this again.” he sat after hesitating and I continued, “How about you try this line, ‘A pretty lady like yourself should never be left unaccompanied. May I join you until your date returns?”


He giggled amused.


“Then I say, ‘I have not a date. I am here alone.’ and then you respond…” I waited.


With a playful smile he replied, “No date? Then may I be the lucky man to buy you a drink and accompany  you too?”


“You may.” I reply switching my crossed legs leaving my crotch covered.


“My name is Brian. Brian Rudy.”


I offer my hand to be kissed. “Vera Rossetti.”


He hesitated again a moment before taking my offered hand gently and pressing tight lips just below my middle knuckle. “A pleasure to meet your acquaintance Ms. Vera Rossetti. May I call you Vera?”


This Brian Rudy guy. There is something about him I cannot place my finger on. How quickly his mannerisms and etiquette changed when I corrected his approach. He jumped from no class to almost perfect class. “Ms Rossetti will do just fine. How are you this night Mr. Rudy?”


He did not sit back in his seat. He did not order the drink he asked to buy me. His eyes were forward and plain. “I have no complaints. Great view you have here.”


I too, then, kept my eyes forward precisely on Laura who had switched her direction, but still danced for me. “Indeed.”


“Do you come here often?” He inquired.


“I do not.”


After a moment he asked, “Why here? Why tonight?”


I motioned my server and ordered a Jack Fire on the rocks with a straw. Mr. Rudy declined my offer for a drink as he awaited an answer. “Why not?”


He twitched, ever so slightly, right above his right brow. Interesting.


“My best friend is the lead singer in the band.” I elaborated although it was not the reason I was there. “I thought I would treat myself when I heard about the VIP section.”


He seemed to relax and I wondered why, but it told me at the least that he was there for a reason and it was not to pick me up. I subtly followed his gaze to, no surprise, it was Laura and he confirmed it.


“Quite the girl right there on the dance floor.”


I took a sip, “Indeed.”


“Do you know her?” He asked to my surprise.


I was honest, “I have not met her, but I hear her name is Laura and she is out to have a good time. Drinking and dancing and she is happily married.”


“I see.” He said. “Do you plan to meet her?


Why? I wondered, but said, “I have enough friends.”


“That does not answer my question.”


And there it was, but I like proof. “I am not opposed to it, but I do not plan it.” Which was the truth. I do not plan. I take advantage of situations and sometimes call it serendipity. “Do you know her?”


“Um.” he began shifting in his seat and rubbing the back of his neck. “I have seen her here before.”


That does not answer my question. “Do you come here often?” I gave him back his question.


“Um, yeah. I mean no. A few times a year, but I never stay for long. I enjoy the bands and atmosphere.”


Laura faced me again, but this time when her eyes meet mine they grew wide when they shifted to my vistor. If I had not seen for myself I would have missed her sudden change. She drained her drink and began dancing the way she was when I first spotted her. Fun and flirty instead of sexy and lustful. This certainly was turning into an interesting night.


Mr. Rudy silently left a couple minutes later. I watched him leave the VIP section altogether.


I ordered another drink and made my way to the dance floor, but not near Laura. I made sure Calden noticed that when I motioned him to play my dance list, which was eclectic, but no country.


I took a page from Laura and began having a good time by myself. I closed my eyes and cut the rug.


It was not long before I had my first dance partner. Her name was Claire and she just broke off her engagement with her boyfriend of seven years engaged for two. She caught him in bed with another man and not one she chose for them.


Four drinks eight songs later I met Destinee. She just got promoted, but lost all her friends with her last promotion and had no one to celebrate with. It was not going to be me because two songs later she tripped and fell leading security to escort her out of the club.


The next one was Jordan followed by Melissa. They were looking for a third. I politely declined. Neither one were my type.


I noticed someone tried to occupy my enclave, but my server quickly expelled them from the area and I winked my approval.


I moved my hips with a sultry sway to the rhythm of In This Moment’s ‘Hallucination’ and I felt myself being watched. Subtly, I looked around avoiding a guy with terrible moves from dancing with me. I noticed no one watching me, but I felt it like a flame on my skin.


And then I saw her. Laura that is. Far, but in view. She flipped her long dirty blond hair behind her left shoulder revealing her sleek slender neck. I gasped. I think it could be tonight. No one flirts that hard and does not want it too. Then again she was married. Happily married I am told.


Her eyes gleamed from across the room. Those blue eyes tinted slate gray were more than tantalizing. It boarderlined torturous and I was being gripped tighter and tighter by it.


So tight that I hiked up my dress and flirted back by dance. It was a language she understood and it quickly made us hot.


Every flip of her hair, turn of her arms, sway of her hips and pucker of her lips heightened my sensation. My ass, also my best asset, spoke to her in shakes and claps as I kept her gaze over my shoulder.


I imagined her in a chair, behind me, tied to it with silk fabric. Purple silk. I hovered over her naked body caressing her skin with that of my ass. I dropped it and brought it back up. I did what they call twerking before facing her again to straddle her.


I worked her like a saddle. Grinding hard into her and felt myself gush, which made me come back to reality.


She smiled provocatively and knowingly as I watched her dip her left hand behind the band of her jeans. Bringing it back up she put a finger into her mouth wrapping her lips around it like I previously did with a straw. Slowly, she pulled it out never breaking our gaze and dipped it again down the front of her jeans.


Her eyes pulled up and her mouth gaped. Her head tilted back and I watched mesmerized. She was gyrating and thrusting. In and out, round and around. She bit her lip, her brow furrowed, her right hand disappeared beneath her shirt and reappeared as a lump slowly traveling toward her right breast.


I gasped again imagining myself as the one touching her. I rubbed that swollen clit and felt her insides. I pinched her nipple and then softly rolled it between my finger tips.


What a corny fantasy I thought refocusing my eyes again. The fantasy was right before my eyes. She was masturbating in the middle of the club on the dance floor. No one else seemed to be watching. I was the entire audience and I was enjoying the show.


The show! Slowly slowing. Her hips swaying rhythmically around her probing fingers. Her mouth open toward the sky like a prayer of thanks or plead to the gods, her dirty blond hair cascading behind her arched back as her shoulders groved to a different beat.


The crowd around her began to disappear. She was the only sight I saw. She glistened beneath the swirling club lights like a western country goddess. Enticing every part of me to pay attention, to watch, to gape like a mindless fool. She caught me in a powerfully webbed spell. I was paralyzed and intoxicated by the rhythmic lure. I could not peel away.


I saw her in slow motion. I barely noticed the music trying to reach my ears. I did register myself mimicking her traveling hands, but I did not care. I was in a type of trance that even my up tight self could not penatrate.


I felt the first rythmic pulse take control of my roving hands. It suddenly felt like I was at a rave. An electric pulse not just throughout my body, but all around me like a successful first trip.


Her eyes reaching mine sent lightning through my veins and thunder through my ears. My throat tightened, my blood thickened, and my lungs contracted with such a force I hit my knees like I was begging for mercy.


Coincidently, so did she and instinctively I ran to her with an offering hand, “Missy, are you okay?”


Mr. Rudy out of nowhere grapped my arm tightly yanking me away from Laura. “What are you doing?” he demanded.


“William? What the hell?” Laura interceded.


Her voice caught me by surprise, but when her blue tinted slate gray eyes met mine I melted even when, “William? ” I snatch my arm back. “You introduced yourself as Brian Rudy! What kind of game are you playing?” My five foot self stepped forward as did his six feet.


Laura placed her hand on my other arm and faced, apparently William, her husband, with her other hand on his chest. “Don’t you trust me? Why are you here?”


“To see what you were doing.” He replied with a studder of surprise, but well articulated.


She watched his lips and then shook her head with revulsion pulling back her hand. “You were spying on me.”


“No. I mean yes, but not because of what you think. Just to see you happy is all.”


I think I was about to vomit when I noticed her hand was still on my arm and it was the same hand that disappeared beneath her pants.


I did not hear or see their argument, but he soon left and Laura faced me. “I apologize. My husband forgets we have an open marriage and he is supposed to stay away on my nights out.”


I looked into her eyes mesmerized. An open marriage, what luck! I gazed deeply into her eyes while slipping my hand behind her neck and using my other hand to softly caress her cheek with the back of my fingers before sliding a lock of hair behind her ear.


I lead her back to my enclave and ordered her a drink while closing the curtains. She cuddled up to me like we had known each other for years.


We remained silent while the drinks were made enjoying the presence of each other. I knew what I knew and I knew that I was about to find out a lot more.


She slumped down in the couch and laid her head in the crook of my neck. Facing me she fingered the red fabric of my dress tracing it along the boarder of my skin along my solar plex downward. The tight fabric hugged my skin like a second one, down the side of belly down to my hip. She traced back up and then let her fingers dance across my bare belly.


She had a barely noticeable scent, vanilla maybe, with a touch of honey. She had a gentleness about her. In her movements, in her touch, even the way she laid her head. She had not spoken, but I felt myself falling into a caring allure. Sensual and rising quickly.


Our drinks were served and she sat up giving me a sly smile and a wink. I could not supress my chuckle. I am not sure exactly what kept me silent or what made me feel a sort of paralyzing fascintation, nonetheless, I was glad to be present. This night was much more interesting than I had anticipated.


Scooting over and swinging her long legs over my lap she gazed at me through smiling eyes, while sipping her drink. The alternate lighting in the enclave showed me the glimmering gold strands through her mane. Her eyes had a bit of green and honey brown too. Her lips were thin and she had the cutest upturned nose, but not too much and it was perfectly pointed too. It was perfect. Why am I thinking about her nose?


Her prominate jaw line was feathered with fine long blond hair. Her collarbone was just as prominate as were her breasts. Her skin a creamy mix of yellow, olive, and red and then lightened. It was like a smoother version of the sweet butter I get from Lucille’s and I loved both.


She took a cube from her drink and sucked on it with a smile dancing her eyes. I took the hint and put down my drink and hers. I took the cube from her mouth and slid it down the nape of her neck. She trembled, but her body leaned into me.


I kissed her neck and she leaned her head to the opposite side. I felt a moan rising in her throat and I took my time. Kiss, nip, lick, move down, repeat.


When I got to her collarbone I went across and up the other side her head moving from my path.


I felt her hand come up the small of my back, up my spine, and softly settled behind my neck. Definitely vanilla. I slid her collar to the side and it fell off one shoulder.


She wore a lacy unpadded bra I saw at fredricks last month. Nice choice I thought as my finger abutted the rim of that bra along her breast. The skin there was supple and pleasing to my fingers. Natural too.


Laura leaned back and I hiked up my dress and mounted her. She looked lovely beneath me in a way that had me stop and linger on her for a moment. I am not sure I had ever done that before with someone.


I shook my trance and started foward and she met me half way intiating our first lip lock. At first it was gentle and sensual, almost hesitant, but then whether it was her or me, but fireworks exploded.


Now not in that cheesy there was a spark fireworks, I am talking about fireworks that set off a chain of pleasure and confidence where suddenly we knew just what to do.


I tore at her clothing as her tongue pryed open my mouth. Her hips grinding rhythmically beneath me. I fumbled with the buttons only a couple seconds before just ripping them apart, but I slowly brought the fabric off her lightly freckled shoulders. Her porcelain like tone with a cool yellow undertone. I caressed the soft flesh, for just a moment before pulling the rest of her shirt off revealing a white spagetti strapped tank over the peeking laced bra. A bra I still admired, which was gone in less time it took me to wink.


It all happened so fast. Before I knew it I had my mouth wrapped around her taut nipple and my hands were roaming her back. I felt her fingers dancing their way toward my ass, but with every flick or nip I gave she moaned lasciviously momentarily ceasing her jouney.


That little reaction was all the fuel I needed. I dug my short nails into her flawless back. She yelped throwing her head back exposing that long slender nexk that I know so well.


I used my tongue to climb from her budded nipples to her prominate color bone. God she tasted so sweet. Like abnormally sweet shouldn’t she be salty, but her moans fed me. I touched every square inch of her chest to her collarbone with my lips.


I nuzzled my nose into the small behind her ear. That primal scent is one I will never forget. It sent a surge through me that instantly made me perspire.


As I worked my way around her upper flesh she weakly fumbled trying to remove my dress. She was not even close it was complicated, so I helped without removing my mouth.


Her scent intoxicated me or maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was the fact that I was so aroused by this beautiful stranger who seemed to want this as much as I need it.


There was a commotion outside the enclave that did not deter me or her. There was one of two people out there and neither one of us cared, yet it turned this into an exhibition. The passion was building quickly between us that soon not even the music was heard.


Her finger tips abutted the small of my back, her breathy moan in my ear made me linger at the nape of her neck. One flick of my tongue caused nails to replace the abutting fingertips. I bucked forward with a grind, which sent a much louder moan from her not so tight lips anymore.


Then I did something I never do at this point. I pulled back only slightly and watched her expressions. I watch her face for signs of pleasure. At first she did not notice and I enjoyed the most elegant of faces. Her head tilted back with her neck exposed. Her lids hid those beautiful eyes, but they still shined through. Her mouth slightly agap, a small cringe between her brows, and every now and again her eyes squeezed a little tighter. I can hear the intake of air passing her lips and as her chest rose I took one breast in my hand and she opened her eyes gazing into mine and mouths, “There is something about you.” and as I respond she watches my lips, “There is everything about you.” but I think, you are perfection. She leans foward pushing me back changing positions. A move that had never been used on me.


I felt like a child. Like it was my first time. Suddenly, in the face of this country barbie, I became nervous and felt myself tremble beneath her touch. She touched me lightly tracing the contours of my body as though memorizing it to paint later. She followed her caresses with her sensuous breath, kissing every spot with such adoration I felt like a queen.


I laid naked in front of this half naked goddess in awe that this was what my night was turning out to be. I studied every part of her I could. Her golden hairs mixed into her dirty blond fell to one side brushing my skin like a feather. My flesh broke into bumps. Still she continued downward. Was she really going first?


She sat up and pulled my hips closer positioning herself for when the moment came. She teased me laughing as she took long strokes, but failed to go low enough.


“Let me through!” a loud scream reached through into our world and through the enclave curtain.


Her eyes snapped up in annoyance recognizing the voice as her husband’s. “Raincheck.” was all she said before grabbing her clothes and slipping through the back.


I had to finish and as I was getting there, in barged Laura’s husband along with three security guards and the curtains landing at my feet. His eyes, large and wild like a rabid animal, darted around the space before settling on me, with my hands on myself, and no Laura or any sign of her, not even her drink.



I arrived home near dawn after giving statements to the police on behalf of the club who was charging Mr. William with trespassing. Mr. William is trying to get the club shut down because of my indecency, but since I was alone in my enclave that I pay for, he may not have a case, but if he does then the club could lose their license.


On the other hand I am not worried about that. I have Laura plaguing my mind. She has got me in such a trance with her allure that I could not sleep. I could not get her off of my mind. She had said raincheck, but never gave me when, where, or even her name. How do I even know that her name is Laura? How will I ever get in touch with her again? I could probably figure it out by way of the case against Mr. William, but that is too easy.


I laid down after a shower and closed my eyes only to stare at the back of my lids. My mind would not stop thinking about how it happen. She was so into me it was unbelievable, but was it me or was it the alcohol? Was it my interest in her that made her interested? She did have other onlookers though. Perhaps it was simple intrigue at the moment and I would never actually see her again.


What the fuck is my problem?! This is not me. I do not think about anyone after I am home. I never go back for a second chance, but this Laura. There was something about her that made me want to know her and it was a feeling that I have not had since high school and was in puppy love. This was not me, but I could not get her off of my mind.


Her swinging hips and dirty blond hair kept replaying in my mind. Her dance was a language that I listened to over and over until a knock came to my front door. When I glanced at the clock it was after nine. It was going to be Calden, I was sure.


I peeled out of bed and threw on my red robe and pulled back my hair. A quick look in the mirror confirmed my sexy just woke up look. With a deep breath I put my hand on the knob and smiled, on the exhale I opened the door. It was not Calden.


“Where is she?” Mr. William pushed passed me into my home.


It was a bit unnerving, but it was not my first time with this type of guy. What was easier was she really was not here and I had no idea where she was. “Now that depends on the she you are refering to.” I replied calmly, but loud enough for him to hear me from whatever room he was searching. I closed and locked the door and started toward the hallway grabbing one of my many hidden blades around the house.


“Don’t play games with me!” he bellowed from what sounded like the den.


I had to smile. I mean really what did this guy think he was doing? Why was he so upset with the fact that it was going to be me she was with last night? Especially when they had their agreement already in place about living with an open marriage. How was I any different from whomever she had been with before I came into her view? “and her into mine.” I whispered to myself.


He came out of the den and crossed into the second bathroom. I heard the shower curtain, bottles tumbling, and then the linen closet opened then slammed. Now he was just being rude. “I know she is here!”


“Who is she?” I repeated my inquiry while standing across from the doorway of the bathroom.


He walked right up to me and I think he was a bit surprised that I did not flinch. “Where is my wife?The one you fucked last night!”


He hit the drywall beside my head. Again I did not flinch. “I did not fuck anyone last night and I do not know where your wife is.”


I gazed back at his intense glare, searching my eyes. I had nothing to show. I told the complete truth and it appeared as though he slowly began to realize that, so I loosened my grip on the blade that was out of his sight. “Find anything?”


“Do you think this is funny? My wife is missing.” He softened.


I move toward the kitchen and he follows. I put on coffee and face him as he sat at the kitchen island. “It was my understanding that you two have an open marriage. You were caught by her while she was apparently on her night out. Perhaps she is upset with you.”


Mr. William glared at me.


“I do not know you and I do not know her, but that is all I can offer you because she is not here. The last time I saw your wife is at the club where you were. Since I have no other answer to offer you it is now my turn to ask questions.” I crossed the room and then continued, “How did you come to know where I  would be this morning?”


“With a name like Vera Rosetti, you were not hard to find. You have quite the reputation. After I left the first time I looked you up.” He smiled in a way that made me feel a bit uncomfortable. “That is right. I know where you are from, where you work, where you went to school, the places you like to hang out, even your mother’s maiden name.” He looked up with that same smile, “Among others.”


I smiled inside. My PR handles my public image, so I now know everything he does. “What did you find that made you feel so threatened by me that you had to show up bursting through my doors looking for your wife?”


His smile faded.


A knock came to my door. Boy this was sure turning out to be a busy morning and I have not even had my first cup of coffee.


After first hesitating I left Mr. William in the kitchen to answer the call. This had to be Calden.


It was and he looked happy. “Hello Vera. It is a bit late for you to be undressed still.”


I gave one of the smiles that said you have no idea and ushered him in. “I have company.” and on cue Mr. William exited the kitchen and started through the hallway toward us and I noticed Calden take a step back before I continued, “Mr. William here is looking for his wife. Apparently, she did not return home and he thought that she may be here. I assured him that she was not and had not and he insisted any how to rumage through my house expecting to find….” I trailed off looking at Mr. William. What had he been trying to find by rummaging through obvious places that his wife could not possibly be able to hide like the linen closet.


Laura was not small. In fact she was quite tall. Taller than her husband who I knew to stand six feet. Calden seemed to keep me between himself and Mr. William, which told me all I needed to know.


“Mr. William, you have come and you have seen that your wife is not here. Is there anything else that I can do for you? I would like to prepare for my day which is about an hour behind schedule due to your untimely visit.”


He glared at me. I am not sure out of anger at me or anger that he was wrong in her being with me. “Very well, but something tells me this is not over.”


I walked him to the door. “It is over. If you so decide that you want to repeat your offenses I will not be so kind. Good day.”


Calden watched me close and lock the door. After checking it twice he followed me to the kitchen where I knew the coffee would be done.


“Do you know where she is?” he asked sitting down.


I was not in the mood for games, but it came so naturally. “I am sure I know where she was, but it was not here.”


He began picking at the checkered table cloth and intently too. “Where would that be?”


I sat down our coffee on the island and joined him in sitting. “You tell me. Get lucky?”


He snickered, but did not look up or grab his coffee. That initial happy face he showed up here with was gone. His face now etched a type of determination that I have only seen him wear when he was trying to hide something.


“You told me that you and Mr. William were aquainted, but it did not seem so this morning. What kind of aquaintances are you?”


Calden sighed and with it his resolve broke. “Okay fine. I like Laura. Alot. Like a lot a lot. She knows this. William knows this and they know that the other knows as well, but I have never been invited and I have never asked. We know each other because of my relationship with her. We talk and she has told me things about her marriage and that is how I know they are a happy couple despite what you have seen. She was with me last night. After she left you she ran into me and she asked for a place to stay and natually I offered. She told me what happened.”


“What happened?” I interceded hoping to find out exactly what he knew.


“Well I saw everything up until you closed the enclave curtains. What you did not see was that William had never left after they talked. Instead he stayed watching and after ten minutes of closed curtain he started toward the enclave. Your security detail is pretty good because they caught him before he even reach the enclave. There was arguing and a little shoving before he turned to leave. Except he did not leave. As the security relaxed at his turned back he turned and bum rushed them yelling. It was at that time I saw Laura leave through the other side pulling her shirt on. I few minutes later she was leaving ran into me fully dressed. I took her back to my place and got her some coffee, which she never touched. She fell right to sleep. This morning we talked and she told me how upset she was with William and how she could not believe what he had done.”


“Why not?” I asked.


“Well because they do not have a trust issue within their marriage, but he has slowly developed a wild jealousy fetish lately that has her trying to get away. She goes out alone once a month if that and he is supposed to do his own thing somewhere else or stay home or whatever. The agreement is that she is to be left alone on her alone days and when she returns there are to be no questions asked. Of course it works in the opposite as well. He goes, she leaves him alone, he comes back, no questions asked. They have done this for years, but last night was the first time he showed up. She trusted him to keep his part of the agreement and now she feels betrayed.”


“Where is she now?”


He looked up for the first time and finally took his coffee into his hands. “She left, but I do not know where.”


I wondered if this was before or after Mr. William left his own house. Perhaps they had just missed each other or if she in fact had not returned. I had not told her my name so how would she find me. I supposed that it is up to me to find her. But how?


Calden left just after he finished his coffee. I cleaned up the kitchen, the bathroom that Mr. William all but destroyed, and I finally prepared for my day when the doorbell rung. “Seriously!”


Checking myself in the mirror before placing my hand on the knob with in inhale I closed my eyes hoping for something that was good instead of intrusive. I exhaled as I turned the knob and pulled.


I could not believe my eyes. Laura stood before me in all her glorious radiance. Her dirty blond hair gleaming in the light of the sun. She towered over me, which put me at a great advange to her rack. I bit my lip as she stepped closer and inside.


She grabbed me kicking the door closed behind her and embraced me in a kiss. I did not resist. In fact I pushed her right back against the door and kissed her back, while locking the door. A moan had already escaped her throat and she shuddered. I pulled her forward and spun her around with out breaking our lip lock and began leading her to my bedroom.


Along the way I took off her jacket, which revealed the same outfit from the night before. The shirt with the broken buttons, the white tank covering her lacy bra, and jeans that complimented every curvy asset of her long slender legs and ideal hips. Once in the bedroom I lead her to the shower. My fountain shower. I continued stripping and kissing her as she smiled when she realized what I was up to. That made her start taking of my clothes. I did not mention I had already showered, but then again this was not really about taking a shower.


On the way inside once we were free of the bondages of clothing I hit a button which brought music to my bathroom speakers and her eyes lit up and her mouth curved into a smile. She stepped under the water and began to dance for me. Swaying her hips as I admired her low pile carpet that matched the drapes. The water soaked through her hair, rolled down her smooth skin, down her neck, and I found myself still biting my lip. What was this affect she had on me?


Slowly, a lascivious simper came to her lips as she gazed at my hypnotic state. She was really there in my shower. She had found me and she was still dancing for me and naked too. I had to shake myself of this trance and take her, but not before she was clean.


I reached for basic natural unscented body wash and made my way around every inch of her body. I had never done this before, but I lathered her up as she danced still and when she turned around molding the back of her to me, the little spoon being my stomach, I could not help, but bring my hands around her thigh and up.


She moaned and I knew she was here for one thing and that was fine. I finished cleaning her and we stumbled out of the bathroom partially drying each other and on the bed where I mounted her once again and stopped to admire her just the same. What was I doing?


It did not matter because this time we had all the time because I was not answering that door again.


This time she had no qualms about reaching my ass as I kissed her face. I never never kiss so much, but this woman made me want to make love to her. Not an in love type of love making, but a take my time and enjoy rather than get it in before the children wake up type of love making.


I held the back of her head up as I nuzzled her neck behind her ear licking time and again. She shuddered as she lifted her beneath me. I made my way down her neck kissing, licking, blowing. I felt her flesh bump and her insides tremble. My hand left the back of her as I lowered still and embraced one of her two perfect breast. They were like a pregnant 25 year old in her fifth month and I had been there.


My face caressed her flesh as I made my way down and across her shoulder to her collarbone. I knew from last night she loved the kisses on her collarbone and they deserved to be kissed. They were prominent after all.


She lost her grip on my ass and moved to the small of my back before traveling up to the broader portion. Still I continued down trailing my tongue down her chest before once again wrapping my lips around that erect nipple. She grunted loudly and her back arched, but I held on even through my smile.


I could not help, but switch to the other before moving down once again as I kissed her belly. It was soft and I liked that. I loved the softness in a woman. It was warm and comforting. Her belly trembled beneath my lips the further I descended and by now I could tell she was biting back more moans or perhaps a shout.


Her fingers entangled themselves in my thick hair as I lowerd my kisses to her pelvis. Her hips began to sway and her legs opened like a flower and at that point I knew how wet she really was. She was sweet, yet pungent. I tongued the flat of her triangle corner to corner before dipping each side down to the point and back. Her grip in my hair tightened as her legs began to wrap around my neck. I pulled her down the bed and slid my knees to the floor.


She was ready, I knew I could not keep teasing, but I did. I caressed her lower belly and pelvis with the flat of my hands while also creating a sturdy foundation for her legs on my shoulders. I knew she was going to buck and I did not want to stop after her first cum.


I pryed her lips open slowly with the tip of my tongue and she jerked up, but my grip kept her from getting away. I dipped lower on my next stroke and touched her clit. This time she came closer to me. She was restless and I took long slow strokes as she worked her own rhythm to my tongue.


Her hands were tugging, pulling, and pushing my head and hair so viciously I figured that I would have bald spots come the morning time. She bucked and grinded almost pleading. I had not yet entered her, but I already knew that she was going to get off before then and I made it my mission to  make her come again and again until she passed out from pure exhaustion of pleasure.


The first one came, followed by the second. I dipped my tongue inside and she melted at my skill the third, the fourth, the fifth, enter two fingers, the sixth, enter another finger, the seventh, the eigth. Her moans and groans fueled me. I moved faster and with more assurance, but before the ninth she put my head in a lock between her legs forcing me to quit. I aquiensced and cleaned up my mess gently then joined her on the bed.


Her face was flushed. Her hair was plastered to her face. Her mouth agape she panted and panted, trembled and convulsed, clearly weakened, and when I brought a curious finger to her rising and falling sweat covered middle she wanted to swat my hand away. What happened was her hand weakly rose just above her own body before crash landing into her ribs. We burst into laughter and I fell in love. I do not know how, but hearing her laugh just filled a part of me I never knew needed to be filled.


She turned toward me gazing into my eyes and I wanted to ask if her husband ever made her feel like she just did. I wanted to ask why she needed to get away and why she chose me. I wanted to ask if she was catching a feeling like I was. I wanted to ask so many things, but instead I just gazed back into her beautiful sparkling eyes. Much more beautiful than Mitzy’s who at one point pierced me. This woman took my sanity and I knew I was in trouble. I wanted her to talk to me. I wanted her to ask me questions. I wanted so much from her, but still I did not ask. I did not want to ruin the moment.


It all made sense to me now, what Calden said. He had seen first hand what I am capable of and I did not do that with her, but I know what he meant. I understand why he likes her and quite possibly love her too. I understand because I fell in love with this beautiful country barbie transformed into a western goddess and she had yet to say a word.


Until she gave me the sweetest little kiss and said aloud, “Thank you.” and she left with a wink.


I still do not know if her name was really Lauren. The case against William and the case against the club have both been dropped. I have been asked to never return to the club and Calden will not tell me if she was ever there again.


I gazed through my office window at Mitzy and she did not carry that same air of beauty. Not since I seen Laura on the dance floor. I had not thought about Mitzy all weekend and this Monday I still am not thinking about Mitzy. My mind goes back to Laura my inner eye candy and my new fantasy.


The water is dancing before my eyes,

Sparkling beneath the sun rise.

Beauty in all its Glory,

The beginning of a beautiful story.


And I feel none of it, I am numb.


The higher the sun rises the darker I feel

And soon the dancing waters are still,

Only to be set upon by wild life,

A clear picture of my strife.


Gazing into the dark waters, a reflection of above

Cast below of all that it was emptied of.

There is a Requiem playing in my soul

And a sadness in my heart I cannot control.


There is within me a burden I wish no one else to carry.

My silence is a gift to spare thee

And though I sit dazed and numb

I still painfully hope that you will one day come.



I cried this morning and yesterday morning too.

All week, in fact, the weekend too, I was blue.

Every chance I was alone I buried my face and cried.

I cried for myself and my life and all that I had tried.

I cried for my heart and for every time I fell apart

And even now I do not know how to fix it or where to start.


I am not sure there is anything to fix, but I need to mend.

Every part of me aches, even my soul, I will not pretend.

I feel so alone even with family and friends around.
When ever they go I find myself collapsing to the ground.


Even I tire of my own tears,but I cannot fool myself.
No, not like the smile that can fool everyone else.


I cannot pretend in the presence of myself that I am fine.

I cannot pretend that everyday my life is not on the line.

Only I know what really goes on in my mind.

All the hints I release to the world only I can find.


What game I am playing I cannot tell you.

Same goes for the rules and regulations too.

Only I know the truth, yet I cannot admit it,

But for proof and reminder of the horrid truth, I kept it.

An Accepted Truth

What truth can I admit today?

What truth is the truest thing to say?

I sit among bird calls and dog barks.

I watched the sun rise over a lake in the park


And it gives me no comfort, no embrace,

No hope or courage for what I am to face.

I gaze at the large oaks and its leaves blowing in the wind,

Knowing that when the strong one comes, they will not bend.


But I, I grapple like its leaves and just hold on.

I just hold and hold from dusk ’til Dawn,

But even deciduous oak trees lose their leaves in autumn

And I am fast approaching that inevitable bottom.


I watch as it rushes to meet me and I it.

The crows already gathering to peck their bit

And slowly I accept, I know I am to give in.

After all, is this not where I have always been?