Copyright 1997-99 by Dennis (woolyii@aol.com ). All rights reserved.
No permission given to post elsewhere.
The morning after, we walk hand in hand, meandering across The Strawberry Fields... only our footprints mar the smooth carpet of snow. The Strawberry Fields--a lovely area of Central Park, New York City's memorial to John Lennon--is covered by an inch of late November snow glinting brightly in the early morning sunshine. Looking around the beautiful landscape we see our footprints are the only ones. But then we are so much in love we are not sure our feet even touch the ground. An occasional bumping of hips, an occasional meeting of lips. In the busiest park in NYC, we find that we are all alone in The Strawberry Fields. Amazing! It is wonderful to be in love! As we walk through the crisp clear air (nothing like cold and a snow to clean the NYC air), we feel so lucky to have found each other. Lucky?
Yes, lucky. The gods of fate had shone kindly upon us. We were so lucky four months ago when we first chatted on IRC. Our connection was instant. Time passed slowly waiting for our second chat, scheduled for a few days later. After that one, we chatted for hours nightly. The more we talked the more we found ourselves saying the same things at the same time. So many interests in common, so many anecdotes from our past to share, similar likes and dislikes with values, books, music, art, recipes and so much else. Our feelings were transmitted by the written word on the computer screen. Real feelings! Friends always warn about chat, saying don't get fantasy mixed up with reality. Well, our feelings were real, very real... sensing one's reaction to the written word before the reply appeared on the screen. Soon the chats escalated to "cyber", the internet answer to sex. But for us it wasn't sex, it was lovemaking. Wonderful lovemaking, so full of emotion and caring and sharing and love. Such intensity of feelings that one would believe impossible by such a "remote" connection. The next escalation was natural enough; crudely referred to as Phone Sex... for us it was lovemaking on the phone. Wonderful, but not a substitute.
The phone rings. Its her, breathless, announcing that she has just been told that she is to attend a convention in New York City, near my home, in two weeks. I don't recall what was said from that point on. So four months after we meet on internet chat, we are going to meet in person. I drive anxiously to the airport. We recognized each other immediately (she is so beautiful) from pics exchanged. She is stunning, petite at 5'3"; dark brown hair to her shoulders... a recent perm framing her oval face... fair skin like pale ivory silk, and brown eyes showing a radiance from within, her lips are perfect, smiling warmly... so inviting, and her nose is just right too. Her body is lithe and fit, required to support her large breasts, with feminine curves flaring at her hips. Dressed in a conservative business suit, there is no doubt the lady is a fox, heads turning here and there to stare unabashedly.