Well, I'll try to gather my memories and continue soon..
....
So, I asked, how did you manage the continuation of your relationship with your husband?
- At first, she replied, as he told me so often I had to, being a diplomat as he was, I tried to communicate and make him understand my needs and dreams. But it appeared soon that he was not ready to listen. I tried then various techniques but none succeeded. Our different backgrounds showed up plainly. Mine, free, friendly and communicative; his, Victorian, rigid and persuaded of the righteousness of his views. Acknowledgement of failure.
Knowing the damage a divorce would bring to their lives, professionally and socially, they decided to continue their shared life and show the world a facade of a happy couple, but living each one their own way.
As we got into the plane, I was beginning to appreciate her really friendly behaviour but also her Brit (bright) smile, her demeanour while getting under the charm of her eyes.
As we seated, our conversation resumed and we shared a lot about our respective travels, hobbies and tastes. Not surprisingly, they were rather similar.
By the time we reached Cap Town, we decidedly felt something more than simple social interaction.
We took a taxi that brought us to her hotel, The Cape Grace Hotel, in Waterfront, where I greeted and left her, agreeing to see each other the next day, than headed to my own hotel, the Fountains Hotel in the City Bowl.
After a rather agitated night, for whatever reason, I called her at noon and I invited her to have dinner in a restaurant I knew.
At seven, I picked her up at her hotel and headed to the Cargills at Rondebosch. Needless to say, I was again under her magic, her smile, her simple but elegant dress.
I'll pass you the details of the menu and the wines as it would take me hours. I'd just point out that the evening went nicely and smoothly with lots of plays on words, jokes and laughs. The light of the candles reflected in the blue-green of her already sparkling eyes and this, along with her smile, made my heart begin to melt.
By eleven, we came back to her hotel where I was prepared to say good-bye. But then she invited me to take a drink in her room. On which reasonable grounds could I decline?
To be followed...
Or, more importantly, why would you want to decline?
That, JPB, is lateral thinking. I had some reasons for declining but I didn't intend to include them in my narration.
Now, you would be right in a situation without strings attached...
.....
We entered the lobby and she took the stairway instead of the lift. I followed and, as she preceded me, marvelled at the soft bouncing of her sculptural hips. At the hallway of the first floor, she turned right and entered the room 103.
As I closed the door, she turned, looked at me and approached slowly. I put my hand on her shoulder, but no need to pull her, our lips encountered and I marvelled at the softness, the tastiness of hers.
Our kiss was a long one. After a while, still kissing, I dropped the straps of her silk like dress and it slipped to her feet. I put both hands around her shoulders and marvelled at the smoothness of her skin.
I started to unhook her bra, of a mild green colour and it joined the dress on the floor. I then marvelled at those horizontal sugar loafs which nipples' perfection I had never witnessed.
I put myself tightly against her warm body and kissed her softly in the neck while two tears of pure bliss rolled down my face.
I stepped back and an amused smile shown on her face. I took her hand and leaded to the bed where I made her stand while taking off gently her panty.
I marvelled at her golden fleece of soft amber covering her inner self of mother pearl with that small pearl on top.
I felt on my knees and couldn't help kissing those wonders of the world. My kiss lasted long enough for her beginning to moan.
I made her lay down on the king size bed. As I laid by her side, my hand fled over those fierce mounts and I could feel the geography of their tops subtly changing. I rolled over her and my masculinity met her femininity with infinite delight. I marvelled at her deep swell and loved her for that.
We navigated high tides and overcame sudden storms then met stale waters again. And, once more, we left the shores.
We slept a wink and, as the day was already high, she ordered a sumptuous breakfast. We ate with appetite while exchanging naughty comments and laughing.
Then I left to have a change at my hotel and going to my scheduled meetings.
We met again in the evening and resumed our loving scenes. We spent the two following evenings together as I had to leave then.
Those were four days of utter bliss; I'd never experienced such unrestrained passion.
As I'd to be at the airport in the beginning of the afternoon, we agreed she would come to tell me good-bye.
She arrived in a hurry, her face rosy, heavily breathing. She quickly told me that she had to go and, as quickly, gave me a kiss in the cheek and left, waving. I was taken aback by this hurried good bye, puzzled by such behaviour.
I left then to Yaoundé and Malabo.
When I arrived, I called the Cape Grace Hotel and asked for Lynn, room 103. They told me that she had left the hotel.
Then you wonder why I resented the loneliness and the climate of Bioko?
To be followed...
Well, given the number of readings, I would expect some comments...
I'm gonna go take a cold shower first...
I'm looking over the offerings from Cargills.
I think I need a glass of something. I can't decide between water and wine.
I feel like having a cigarette.
And I don't even smoke.
Well, I was going to comment, but since this sort of thing happens to me all the time...
George, you lucky dog. <smile>
Francis, many people watch a topic without commenting. I cannot speak for others, but only for myself.
I read your vignette on three levels; First, holistically;(no mechanics of writing, etc) then, in a gestalt manner; and finally, from the affective domain.
I want to be very careful that I do not patronize a cyber friend, nor overstate my compliments, but simply make an honest observation.
First, let me say that holistically, it was a beautifully written piece, and more so because English is not your first language. It was also very easy to follow, and that is always the watermark of a talented writer. In this respect, grammar is meaningless.
Now for the gestalt observation. Your entire account was far greater than the parts of it.
Finally, on the affective and sensual description, I would like to suggest that you omit some of the more descriptive details, as it is often the allusions that elicit an emotional response far greater than can be described in words.
This entire piece is from the viewpoint of one who taught adult composition classes, and not to be taken too seriously. <smile>
Thank you all for your comments. I'd expect more.
Thank you, Miss Letty, for expanding...
I'm no critic of English grammar, but I enjoyed your "story" tremendously. I must, some day, relate my story about the Spanish woman I met in Tangier's when I was stationed in Morocco back in the late fifties.. he he he...
I'll read it attentively, CI.
But my "story" is not yet finished. I'll continue soon...
gus, Read Francis' story.
....
I rose up and felt the warmth of the deck under my bare feet. I got down the deck and headed to the beach, slowly, looking at the flora, so different of what I am used to but at the same time so familiar due to my frequent trips to Africa.
I felt the sand under my feet and it was a different sensation too. The volcanic sand here is very light and dark compared to one of the French coasts.
In addition, sometimes there's too much Sahara sand in the air, coming with the wind.
Though I felt all these things with all my senses, my mind seemed oblivious to give them a meaning. I looked like I couldn't, even for a brief moment, think about anything else than Lynn and her strange behaviour.
I really couldn't imagine which event could lead to such change in her otherwise delightful manners.
- Well, I will think about it later. Now I have to go to the meeting.
I left the beach, got back to the hotel, took a shower, dressed carefully and left to the centre, Avenida de la Libertad, where my business partners where waiting for me.
Afterwards, we went out for dinner, had an after dinner drink in one of those popular bars where you can mix with the locals and talk like old friends with people you never met before.
I got back to the hotel with the same throbbing question in mind: why?
I sat on the balustrade, looking at moon's glimmering on the calm waters of the bay. Suddenly, a sound tore the silent night. It was my cell phone. I rushed to grab it in my pocket. It was Lynn!
The mixed feelings I had vanished instantaneously. I felt pure joy hearing her soft voice.
She explained me that superior reasons have driven her to act the way she acted and that she would tell me more later.
She asked me if I would like to see her again. I couldn't help to say: what a dumb question! A thousand times I would say I want to see you again!
She replied: You'll see me soonÂ…
To be continued...
Francis, I really love this episode in your story. There are a few correction that I would make, but that would destroy the feel of your narrative. I especially like this particular section:
"Afterwards, we went out for dinner, had an after dinner drink in one of those popular bars where you can mix with the locals and talk like old friends with people you never met before.
I got back to the hotel with the same throbbing question in mind: why?
I sat on the balustrade, looking at moon's glimmering on the calm waters of the bay. Suddenly, a sound tore the silent night. It was my cell phone. I rushed to grab it in my pocket. It was Lynn! "
A very nice combination of the every day and the excitement of re-connecting.
