Rainy Day Dream
by CJ

It's been raining all day, and I've worked hard. A good hard. Then it begins.

It starts out like most evenings. Someone, an old friend or kin invites me somewhere. A jazz club, or maybe a blues joint, whichever but it did have very good music, food, and nice wines. The ambience is wonderful, lighted just enough so you won't stumble over someone. Good people out for a pleasant evening. Courteous staff and a nice dance area that don't intrude on the tables.

I'm at a table playing some dominoes, (Acey-Deucey) when I notice the air around me changes. I don't know why but I can fell something, or someone. I glance around, trying to figure out why my attention has been deverted. I don't see anything unusual. Must have been my imagination. I go back to my game, all I need is double 3's to win. My opponent hasn't even crossed the board yet.

But wait there it is again. Concentration is shattered, no not right diverted. Because as I look up again I see her. She's at a table on the other side of the room. And as I stare she notices me. Then she does the strangest thing.........she smiles. And I can feel it. My body starts to react. My nipples start to contract. My hands get tingly. My hips start to lift involuntarily, as I feel a tug in my valley. My heart jumps. But most of all I feel like for me, the sun is shining. I've seen her before, somewhere in my dreams.

Her skin looks like satin, very good skin no make-up to hide blemishes just to enhance. Hair that the sun has put fire in. You can tell she's the outdoor type, the way she moves. Graceful, even picking up a wine glass. She's very comfortable with her body. Athletic, a good walker probably. Damn I bet she plays golf, all that energy wasted. But I bet it makes her legs good and strong. The thought grows, and I can feel her legs wrapped around me.

Damn! I've missed 4 times with the die. Concentrate! No good. My eyes wander back to her. It seems as if I know her from somewhere. Past life, if I believed in such stuff. She gets up and starts in my direction. Yes, as I thought a good walker. She glides across the floor. Damn I can really feel her wrapped around me now. Two more bad throws, my opponent has only six men left. All on five's and four's.

She walks up to me and says hi. Musical voice. It runs over me, seepingin like a misty rain does my clothes. Damn, I've lost the game. Oh well. I rise. 'Too bad', she says looking up at me. I offer her a drink, and she accepts. I don't know how it happens but i wind up at her table. Talking, about everything. I never talk. But tonight I'm a motor mouth. There's other people there. Her friends she came with. But I concentrate on her, it's like we're alone. On a cloud maybe, the air has gotten lighter.

We have similar interests, but different enough, to enjoy. Turns out she does like golf, 'egad', I say. She just smiles, she does that an awful lot. Smiles at me. She's a voracious reader, and she even gardens. She loves roses.
The band comes on to do a set, and she enjoys the music. I can tell, she sort on sways, and smiles and kinda, I don't know flow into it. Like I feel myself flowing into her. Every time the band plays something she really enjoys she sorta hums along with them. But she does it under her breath, she is very polite. After the set I ask her if she would like to see my porch swing. She's hesitant, I can tell. Maybe she doesn't feel right leaving her friends. Or most likely she's not the kind to go somewhere with a stranger. So she doesn't. Good girl.
I go home afterwards thinking about her. Later that night I dream of her. Of her legs, her full breasts, her hands, they're really soft. During the night I kept waking to find I've holding them. And her smile. I kept feeling her smile.

The next day, I see her again. Course it was by accident. No, really, honest. Okay so I don't lie very well. We arrange for another night at the jazz club. Then another. Pretty soon, I guess you could say we're dating. Course by now she knows my life story, and all about my kooky relatives. She's even met my dog Teddy, a mixed mutt of indetermine breed.

One day, she agrees to see my porch swing. she likes the place. She thinks the old house is 'quaint' and that it has 'character'. I tell her that it's drafty, but i'm fixing the insulation and that I plan to put new windows in by spring. I show her kitchen I've redone. She loves the floor in the dining room, where I pulled up the linoleum and stained the oak underneath, buffing it to a shine. When I told her about the linoleun she almost cried. She feels deeply. She thought the furnishings where antiques, I told her, 'naw. they're just old, mostly hand made stuff'. She informed me that's what antiques are. She marvels at the detail on the chifferobes. It's good to know someone under sixty who knows what a chifferobe is. And that Ethan Allen didn't invent the credenza. Or that wardrobes where used for clothes, before they got convienient to store TVs in. She notices me hiding my hands and comments on it. I apologizedand show her that my hands have callouses in them. But she just smiled and ran her fingertips over them saying, I work to hard. I also mumbled a sorry about all the boxes, piled up in a couple of the rooms. I explained I moved a couple of months ago and haven't had time to go through everything. She understoodand thought the old house was a lovely home in a lovely setting. The wheeping willows are 'panoramic' (actually she said picturesques, but i spell terribly). And the newly installed ac justifiable in the deep south. But she's mystified about why I have a king size bed. Then I explain that I sleep as my mother would call 'badly'. She thinks the pond out back is rustic, I had to explain that I had to plant mosquito plants and put bug whoppers in the front and back yard. Plus one on the screened front porch to keep the skeeters down to a minimun. She said then the swing should get plenty of use.

I cook her a real Southern dinner, (no I didn't need help in the kitchen). So she relaxed and enjoyed music (jazz of course), while swinging on the porch. I should be sorry I fixed her a meal that most doctors would frown upon: smothered pork chops, with meat-drippings brown gravy served over fluffy rice, crowder peas with hamhocks, mustard greens cooked with fatback, cornbread and for desert sweet potato pie made with real butter and canned milk (made it yesterday, they're better served cold), and a dry reisling ( I hope that's a good choice). As I said I guess I should be sorry for the heart-attack platter, but I'm not. Once in a while is okay.
I think she enjoyed the dinner. I know I enjoyed watching her eat it. The way her eyes lit up when she tasted the mustard greens. After mushing the cornbread up in them like I showed her. I could just imagine her eyes lighting up like that as I would rub the crotch of her jeans. Different she said, but very tasty. Like the moisture she would generate under my ministrations. The way her lips caressed her fork, after putting in a bite of pork chop. I could see her lips caressing my caressing mine in an eroctic kiss. The way she aawwwhhhh when she forked up her first mouthful of peas. I could imagine that sound coming from here as lay upon her. Her legs coming around me as my clit says hi to hers. The way she purrrrrrrred at the potato pie and annouced it as sinful. She would say likewise only huskier , as i drink from her fountian. not wasting a drop. Making sure that I got all her juices, even those on her brown almost black pubic hairs. Or maybe when after accomplishing heaven. As i lay upon her getting my strenght back, I roll off of her. But sooth her whimpered protests by bringing her against me. Somehow our legs would entangle enough to stay clit against clit. And just as the aftershocks are quieting she wiggles and whispers that I'm sinful. And as I would gaze into hereyes, feeling my soul mating with hers......she smiles. and I would know my heart is no longer mine. For on this day, it was given to asoftone. I don't think she realizes it, but I know she will soon.

These are the things I envisioned as she ate. But it didn't happen it was just a dream. Cause all we did was have dinner, my soft one and I. In the end none of these things happened. However I did mange to steal a kiss when I took her home...after dinner.

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