Diversions of daydreamed desire (stemmed from some reminiscence), rather than time spent prioritizing: solutions to personal/business predicaments, sympathetic ponderings about war-killed innocents (Lebanese and Israeli children, again), glacial holes, economic injustices et al, or expending already procrastinated labor on repair and clean-up of ordinary day-day-living.
An early morning newspaper read, enwombing classical violin or world beat soul; a champagne brunch religiosity with friends— politics, the arts, science, business, family and feeling (the injected quatro-- travel, the famous, food/wine and sports-- obligatory, of course; real estate adding the thumb to the handful); wearing something relaxed, yet smart and sexy (as is everyone else in their own way); more champagne (a Schramsberg Cremant); followed by an early afternoon jaunt on the beach, a hike to points discovered, a sail, a biking, the side-splitting volleyball. Camaraderic flirtations, give-and-take, intellectualism and silliness equally forgiving and welcomed. Sunset, blues at the park, piano bar tapas; sliding into preparation for e-mails to answer, lists for the week and goals and misses to achieve.
Just with one. Before the newspaper, between last night’s dreams and eyes’ first open, a muscular sleep-warmed limb’s reach, cause-and-effects the nuzzling of my leg- to- waist, twisting an opening-moistening pelvis to him. Love make, sustained continuance between engagement and re-engorgement.
In the bathroom, excused, the both of us a few minutes closed door from our guests; Maybe a quick pounding from behind, leaned over the sink, his rowdy cock in full mirror-performance, flushed my face and him; or the door, a peek gaping, me leaping into his arms, dress-heaped legs wrapped around his only-unzipped jeans, my hands bracing the wall, allying his confident rhythms into my space. And day’s end, in bed or on the hammock outside, mouth on mouth, mouth on head, tongue’s length playful tease, hard, hot; His lips on my lips, fingers playing my well; sweet, tangy, the juices of another champagne, a blend of his and mine. Lullaby into tomorrow’s awaits.
Sunday, July 23, 2006