Forbidden fruit is
always the sweetest….
The music is
bumping. The air is so thick I can feel it caress my skin as I make my way
through the crowded dance floor. Face after face twisted in its own form of
wicked pleasure… All these people indulging themselves in their desires.
Grinding their sexual frustrations out on whoever is willing to reciprocate. Clouding
our judgments with the sweet intoxication of our varied flavors of liquid
courage. When the lights go out and the speakers come on each patron gives their
silent signature an inaudible acknowledgment that for the next few hours… in
this place… your wildest dreams can come true… nearly anything is possible.
The phone rings.
He requests my presence. He does not belong to me, but I am his. I submit to
calling without hesitation. No questions needed aside from the address of our Rendezvous.
I arrive at a hidden night club on such a quiet street to be in the Big City.
The night is cool, slightly uncomfortable without a Jacket… but bearable. For
once in my life, I’m early. So I make my way to the bar and start the night off
with a shot of my old friend Senor Patron. As the tequila begins to warm my
blood I look up and see him enter. Always such a presence when he walks into a
room, everyone notices. But wait… who is this woman with him. If I were anyone
else … looking at her frame I would have assumed she was me. She’s wearing
sunglasses so I can’t make out her face. I make my way closer, she removes her
glasses and her face becomes one that I am more than familiar with. He also
does not belong to her… but she, much like me … is his.
We drink… we dance….
We drink…. We laugh…. We drink…
My Mr. Jones...
He pulls my face
to his and kisses me… if I didn’t know better I would have thought he missed
me. Then he turns to his left… and kisses her. For just a moment the world goes
silent. “What the hell just happened?” Is all I can think. Did we talk about
this? Did I somehow forget THIS portion of the directions? So I am faced with a
simple decision… Am I down? I think to myself… What the hell … Carpe Diem”
We spend the rest
of the night in varied 3person dance maneuvers… Tasting Ciroc off each others
lips. We have officially occupied the Very Important People’s section of this
club. Women are forgetting what their Mother’s taught them and shaking what
they gave them for the ones we incautiously throw. Us Musketeers have found a
corner and made our way to a Verbal game of twister, enjoying the combinations
of sweet the 3 of us make.
The next thing I
remember is being told to make my way to the car. Driver pulls the Benz up we
hop in the back. Sleep takes over… I awake to find myself walking through the
lobby of a hotel. Room doors are opened. Showers commence. I am the last to
exit the shower… my erotic obsession with hot water delays me. I exit the
bathroom to find them in the bed. She is straddling him, grabbing his back for
dear life. Their lips beckon me to join the two of them in the bed… Lights are
turned off… and then there were three.
