Rendezvous, Pt. I

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Rendezvous It started out as a typical Saturday, with not much going on except a couple of phone calls that weren’t of any consequence. Lounging on my sofa, listening to some music, and reading Catch-22 seemed like a proper way to allot my time. Steely Dan was wafting through the speakers when there was a soft tapping at my door. I sure as hell hoped it wasn’t some damn Jehovah’s Witness trying to sell me Jesus. Christ isn’t for sale, as far as I know, and a theological discussion with some naive rube from Arkansas wasn’t at the top of my dance card. I turned the music down a bit, and hurriedly pulled on a shirt and opened the door. “Hiya Danny!! Surprised?!” she exclaimed, a smile lighting up her enchanting face. I stared at her dumbfounded, and a grin eased onto my face. Beth was a very pretty woman who I was “involved with” in college. She was 27 years old, stood about 5 feet 7 inches tall, and weighed approximately 125 lbs. She had long chestnut brown hair falling lightly to an exquisite ass, wonderfully shaped firm pert breasts, about a 34B, long, slender legs, and a rather angelic face. She was sort of shy when we first met, but that dissipated fairly quickly as she met more people and matured intellectually. She eventually became something bordering on assertive. “No, not at all. I’ve been expecting you, Beth,” I told her, the wide grin on my face strongly hinting at the veracity of my claim. “You look very lovely,” I expressed, looking into her blue-gray eyes. She was as beautiful as I had remembered her, perhaps even more so. Beth had usually dressed fairly casually when were attending school together, and today was no exception. She had on a pair of old military-surplus fatigues that served to accentuate the alluring shape of her ass, and a simple white t-shirt that made it quite clear there was no bra between her pert breasts and the thin cotton shirt. Her perky nipples made their presence known from beneath the light shirt, subtly pressing through the material. I realized at that moment how much I had missed her. It had been going on five years since I last had seen her elegant face. In the not-so-distant past when we were both attending the University of Arizona, we would spend countless hours talking history, philosophy, and a broad range of other topics, and I believe we both came to appreciate each other’s intellects and varied senses of humor. Beth possessed a sense of humor consisting of large portions of irony and sarcasm, and her rapier wit had humbled many an opponent. Many men seem to be put off by a woman with a strong intellect, especially one greater than their own, but I was initially drawn to Beth because of her cerebral nature. Of course, it didn’t hurt at all that she was attractive and alluring. I still distinctly remember when the relationship transcended mere intellectual appreciation. We were walking home in no hurry from the U of A library in our sophomore year, casually discussing a mid-term exam approaching in one of our more difficult philosophy courses, and without warning she took my hand into her soft grasp. I was rather surprised by this spontaneous event, as ours had been a connection with platonic roots up until that point, although I doubted either of us would have denied a sexual attraction. After Beth took my hand, she looked at me with something resembling a mix of love and ardor in her eyes, and brought her pretty face very slowly towards mine. She smiled softly at me as she swept her hair away from her face, then hesitantly kissed me with her soft lips, very tentatively at first, then with increasing passion as she eased her tongue into my mouth, seeking out my own. It was tender. It was sensuous. It was loving. I pulled her close to my body, feeling her firm breasts pressed against my chest, experiencing her warmth while I kissed her deeply, my tongue dancing rhythmically in her mouth. I remember the clean smell of her hair. I recollect the seductive nature of her subtle perfume. We paused from our unanticipated embrace, looking intently into each other’s eyes. We then turned in unison, and slowly continued on our way in silence with slight smiles on our faces, my arm around her shoulders. When we got to her door, I kissed her very tenderly on her soft lips as I eased my arm around her petite waist. I reluctantly turned to walk to my apartment, elated at what had just transpired. I pondered our initial kiss all of the way back to my small college-ghetto apartment, and into the evening, mulling over where it might lead. Beth’s feelings were the same as mine I thought, at least hoped they were. I just didn’t want to overstep any unspoken boundaries, as I regarded her as an unparalleled friend first and foremost. She was intelligent, she was stimulating, and she was beautiful in my eyes, and if I could tell anything from the leers she received whenever we ambled across campus together, she was pretty hot in a lot of other guys’ eyes as well. Over the next several months, it became rather apparent where this romance was evolving. We began to gradually transform into a couple as time progressed. We Ataşehir escort bayan went to the campus bookstore together when we needed to, we would go to various restaurants and fast food franchises occasionally, and we unfailingly went to our common classes together daily. We hung out on weekends at my apartment, listening to Steely Dan, Elvis Costello, and alternative radio, among other things. We also happened to have in common an avid inclination for the blues. There was a definite shared predilection for each other. We hugged and kissed considerably more, in private initially, and we gradually became more public with our affections. We profoundly enjoyed each other’s company, and both of us sought out one another on an increasingly frequent basis. Eventually leading up to an evening where Beth found herself alone at her off-campus apartment, as her roommate Monica had left for Cabo San Lucas for spring break. She called to invite me over to her place at 8 o’clock in the evening for, “Maybe some coffee, a few drinks…” she giggled, then added cryptically, “and whatever.” I imagined I heard her grinning through the phone. After showering, shaving quickly and throwing on some cologne, I got dressed and walked the reasonably short distance to her apartment. I proceeded with a leisurely pace to her house, debating whether I was just imagining the implications I thought I heard in her voice on the phone. Beth met me at the door, and after a warm and inviting kiss, welcomed me into her house. She was dressed casually, wearing tight faded Lee jeans, a loose fitting skull-and-roses Grateful Dead t-shirt (she was somewhat of a Deadhead), and was barefooted. I thought I could discern the outline of erect nipples beneath her thin cotton shirt. In my somewhat biased eyes, she was simply beautiful. “Hiya Danny. It’s great to see you. Come on in,” she said softly with a shy smile, and eyed me at the door. “How are you?” she asked me with an appealing twinkle in her eye. “Gee… you’re looking quite dapper… got a date after you leave here tonight?” she teased playfully, referring rather facetiously to my weathered jeans and a somewhat tattered Elvis Costello My Aim Is True t-shirt. “That is, if you leave here tonight,” I thought I heard her whisper under her breath, and I was pretty sure I had understood what she had said. I kept whatever I might have had to say to myself. “Hey Beth. I’m pretty good. Thanks for asking. It’s damn good to see you as well, babe,” I said, putting my arm around her and kissing her softly on the lips as I entered the house. “And thank you for the comment on my clothes, babe; I didn’t want to outdress you,” I kidded her with a grin. She answered with a practiced smirk and a toothy grin. “Still listening to Jackson Browne, eh?” I asked her rhetorically as I found myself listening to Late for the Sky emanating from her speakers, and looked to see her nod her head and softly smile. Beth had a certain fondness for early seventies music. We also shared a mutual interest in the sixties. Beth was drawn to acid rock and the alternative lifestyles, i.e., “hippies”, while I was more attracted to the political upheavals of the era, particularly the Democratic National Convention in Chicago in 1968, the Weather Underground, and Huey Newton and the Black Panthers. I had wanted to be a revolutionary back in high school, despite the fact I realized even then that the pension plans for freedom fighters were somewhat less than ideal. I decided to go to college to sort out my political leanings, among other things. I waited two years before I entered college, as I went on a two year “self-discovery” period. In time, I decided what I wanted to do. Namely, I wanted to be a writer. The room had the vaguely sensual scent of jasmine enveloping it, and I looked to see a stick of incense burning in an ashtray, sending up plumes of fragrant smoke. There was a pleasantly mellow ambience in the room. I noticed a fine-looking calico cat, and her name was “Peckerwood”, based on my conversations with Beth, walking warily around the room, eying me nervously. I’d always wondered why she had named her female cat that.. “Would you care for some fresh coffee, babe? I have some pretty nice coffee from Sumatra I just brewed. Sumatra Mandheling. I just put the beans in the grinder just a moment before you arrived,” she told me as I sat on her sofa. Coffee was another subject we shared in common. We both purchased our favorite varieties and ground our beans fresh, just before brewing. Our early “coffee dates”, where we would sit and discuss books, current affairs, with her even indulging me as I talked about baseball, provided a sturdy foundation for our alliance. We simply enjoyed talking to one another. In fact, we seemed to fascinate each other. I noticed she was looking at me in a manner different from what she usually did. I wondered what the significance of her assessment was. “Yeah, I’d appreciate some coffee. Thank you. I can smell it. It has a nice rich aroma to it. And it looks as if you have great taste in art,” Escort Ümraniye I pointed out, alluding to the Dali prints adorning her walls. When she returned with the hot coffee, she sat down rather close to where I was sitting, and I slipped my arm around her shoulder, pulling her even closer to me. She was wearing a small amount of subtle perfume, and the effect was pleasing to me. It seemed to me that there was a bit more of the usual sexual tension between us in the room, and that’s quite a statement, because Beth and I seemed to exude sort of a physical affinity. As she extended her hand for her cup of coffee, she turned to me and smiled brightly. “Well, I don’t know about art, but I know what I like,” she kidded, looking me in the eye as she said it, and I thought I saw a flirtatious glance. “Actually, those prints are Monica’s, honey. She brought them along with her from Oregon,” she informed me, referring to her spmewhat unconventional roommate from Eugene. “I’m having a few problems writing this paper for the course ‘History of American Foreign Policy, 1945-to-Present’. I think I’m doing okay in the class as far as tests go, but this paper is a significant portion of my grade. I think I have a topic, but I’m having a little trouble with my thesis. Didn’t you take the class?” she inquired as I reached for my coffee, taking a sip of the hot caffeinated liquid. “Yeah, I took it. I did pretty well in the course too, if I say so myself… and I just did,” I quipped with a smile. “He’s a great professor. He got his doctorate at UC Berkeley. In fact, he’s why I took the course. I’ve taken several of his classes. Are there still a lot of ROTC recruits in the class?” I asked her, and seeing her nod, continued after taking a quick sip of my coffee. “I believe I wrote mine on the withdrawal of the French after Dien Bien Phu, and the resulting political mayhem occurring in the years following the attack, leading to our increased involvement. I mean, at that time, in 1954, we only had a few quote/unquote ‘policy advisors’ over there,” I explained to her. “Yeah, the Domino Theory and all that,” she remarked in a manner bordering on sarcasm. She deliberately turned to me and grinned. “But he is a good professor. I really like him. I do have to take a boatload of notes when I’m in his classes though. I was thinking of doing my paper on the issues surrounding the Tet Offensive. It was one of the turning points in the Vietnam War, wouldn’t you think?” she asked me as she pulled a small vial from her jeans. “Well, it was certainly a turning point in the American perception of the war,” I said to her while trying to eye the vial with my peripheral vision, “and Johnson decided not to run a mere two months later. Good ol’ LBJ. 1968 was a pivotal year in American history as far as I’m concerned, and I think the ’68 Convention had more than a little to do with it,” I stated, and as my curiosity got the best of me, I asked, “umm, what’s in the vial?” “Oh, this?” she asked me with an innocent look on her face, then mischievously grinned at me as she slowly shook the small vial back and forth. “Well, I guess I should tell you that it happens to be some prime Hawaiian marijuana… Kona bud, to be specific. A good friend of mine brought it back from the islands,” she informed me with a slight smile on her face, then continued. “I haven’t smoked any of it yet. I was planning for this to be sort of a ‘special’ night, so I was wondering if you were interested in partaking with me,” she grinned, putting her hand lightly on my thigh as she did so. “Really? I really didn’t think you got loaded,” I told her, looking at her incredulously while considering the many meanings of ‘special’, and loving the feel of her hand on my thigh. I had given some thought to the possibility of Beth getting high, especially with her fondness for all things “hippie”, but had purged the thought from my head when she did so well in her classes. “Wow. I haven’t ‘partaken’, as you say, in a couple of years. Hmmm… what to do?” I looked over at her lovely face, breaking into a grin. “But with you? Sure, let’s burn one. I’d be honored to get stoned with you. And you’ll be here to take care of me, right?” I asked her with a smile. “Sure, I’ll take care of you, babe,” she said with a seductive smile, and after pausing to kiss me with more than a little passion, went on. “Actually, I haven’t smoked any reefer since I was a senior in high school, but I thought it would be rather fun to share what could be a rather intimate experience together,” she commented with a sly smile, looking at me intently, and I didn’t miss her reference to ‘a rather intimate experience’. “So, do you think you could manage to roll us a joint, babe? And before you say anything about it being wasteful, I just thought a joint would more properly ‘set the mood’, as it were,” she added while smiling widely, got up to go toward the kitchen, then sat a couple of beers on the table. “I think I can manage, babe,” I smiled and told her as I wondered just what she may have been ‘setting the mood’ Bostancı escort for. “You may not have known this, but I’d been a joint man back when I got high. Let’s see the vial and the papers, sweetie,” I smiled, and after she gave them to me, I took a drink of my beer and began to prepare the smoke so I could roll a bone, as it consisted of some rather compressed sticky sinsemilla buds. “You look like you know what you’re doing when it comes to rolling joints, Danny. If you don’t mind me asking, why’d you stop smoking dope?” she inquired. “Did you get busted or something?” she asked me, then took a small sip of her beer. “Why, thank you, darlin’. Thank you very much,” I told her with a smile, taking a drink of my own beer. I had always been sort of proud of my ability to roll a competent bone. I observed her grinning. “Actually, no, I didn’t get popped, although I came awfully close to it a time or two. Ask me about it sometime,” I advised her. “I think this will be pretty neat, you and I getting loaded together,” Beth commented, looking me directly in the eyes, leaning in and adding in a stealthy whisper, “and I get somewhat horny after smoking dope, you know.” She tittered nervously as she did, before kissing me with a tender passion on the lips. “What a coincidence! From what I can remember, I get reasonably randy after I get high as well,” I told her with a wide grin on my face as I finished rolling the joint. “Maybe we’ll be able to work something out between us,” I laughed as I handed her the bone. I was becoming very interested in where this little dialogue might be heading. “Perhaps we shall,” she said with a sly grin. “Why, thank you so very much, kind sir!” she commented with a mock British upper-crust accent, and I held a match for her to light the joint. “Whoa! This tastes like some prime reefer here,” she commented after holding in a long slow draw on the joint, and passing it to me. “You’re right. This does taste like some very good smoke,” I told her after taking a healthy toke from the joint and handing it back to her. It had been quite a while since I had smelled the odor of marijuana so close to me, and the sensation brought back many fond memories. “Umm, how are you feeling, babe?” I asked her while running my fingers through her sweet-scented hair, curious as to how the smoke was affecting her. “You might not believe this, honey, but I’m getting there already,” she told me with a silly grin on her face after she had held in her hit and passed it to me. Although on Beth’s face, it really didn’t look “silly”. It somehow looked sexy. In hindsight, I think I might have been trying to imagine what her breasts looked like. Without the shirt in the way. We continued passing the bone back and forth and as it got progressively smaller, I took a few drinks of my beer. “It’s getting pretty small,” I pointed out to her, and proceeded to take a lengthy hit of the joint. I was quite pleasantly stoned, and was enjoying myself immensely. I continued to undress her with my eyes. “Yeah… that’s what she said,” she quipped with a devilish grin. As I passed the joint back to her, I noticed her eyes were beginning to redden. “I think this thing is spent, babe,” she declared, and set it down in the ash tray. She stared at her Beck’s for several long moments, transfixed by the geometric patterns forming by the condensation on the bottle, then asked “Where is Bremen, honey?” “It’s in northern Germany. Somewhat close to Hamburg, a port city on the North Sea,” I informed her casually. “You don’t mind, do you, babe? I’m feeling kinda drowsy,” she looked up and asked me, smiling innocently, and she wrapped her dainty hand around my back as she lay her head on my lap. I looked down at the sight of her slender body laying on its side, with her jeans highlighting the enticing curves of her firm ass. “Umm, I hope you realize that I might ‘rise to the occasion’, if you catch my drift,” I informed her with a wide grin, alluding to the likely consequences of my cock being so close in proximity to her face, not to mention her mouth. “I hope you realize that it’s not as if I was exactly oblivious to your rather painfully obvious erections,” she told me with a chuckle. “Sheesh! Did you possibly think I was under the impression that you had a crescent wrench in your pocket pressing into my belly?! I knew you were glad to see me,” she told me, giggling as she did, then continued as I observed her with a wide grin. “And quite frankly, I was flattered. I think the world of you. You’ve let me proceed in this alliance at my own speed. You’ve never pressured me once to go any farther than I wanted to go. You’ve let me define the parameters of this relationship, babe. You’ve respected me in every way. In fact, despite my limited experience in such matters, I’m pretty sure that I… well, there’s other way to say this… I’m pretty sure I love you, Danny,” she said, looking me directly in the eyes, and I felt an instantaneous tightening in my chest. There was an uncomfortable pause in the conversation while we both considered what she had just said. At this point, I think I would be best depicted as “pleasantly dazed”. In retrospect, I must have suspected it; but to hear her actually say it was quite a different story. Quite a different story indeed. “Yes, I’m quite sure of it. I’m in love with you,” she said rather unexpectedly, looking up into my face for a response.

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