The 3 'c's' of Life

Valentine's Day and our one-year anniversary.

We weren't sure which date to call our anniversary date: the night Bev appeared at my backdoor, the next day when we made love for the first time, or even the day that we said those three words to each other for the first time, which was only a week later. In her bed.

Valentine's Day landed in the middle of the week. So, I followed the Valentine tradition. I showed up at her door bearing gifts of my love: a sentimental Card, a dozen red roses, and a pint of Chocolate Fudge ice cream.

Bev broke down. I held her as she buried her face into my neck. Tears running down her cheeks. My own falling into her blonde hair.

A few moments later. Bev pulled back and looked at me with a smile and puffy eyes.

"Except for corsages, nobody has

ever

bought me flowers. Thank you Bill. You make me feel special."

"That's my job, my dear," a soft kiss to those soft lips, "To make you feel special, because you are... so

very

special to me."

"I think I'll take these to school and put them on my desk so that I can enjoy them all day long. Let everybody see what my boyfriend gave me on Valentine's Day."

A full passion-filled kiss, as Bev pulled us together.

Her eyes welling up as she read the card. I had purposely bought a blank one and wrote my own message, in my 'Engineer Chicken Scratch'.

"A lot of people like to say that they

think

that they've found their soulmate. But I'm the one who's

absolutely

positive about it! Happy Valentine's Day, my love. Yours's. Forever and Ever... All my love, Bill."

More tears, as she buried my face into my already wet shoulder. It warmed my heart.

"Oh, Bill. This is the best Valentine I have ever received. And you know why? Because, it came from your heart, and not just something that somebody else wrote. It's why I love you so much. Thank you so much," her voice cracking on those last four words.

"mmmm and Chocolate Fudge ice cream. You

really

know how to hit a girl's weak spot. Maybe, I'll share. Maybe, I'll let you lick your share from my bare body. I could put a big scoop on my belly button, and you could just lick away. I know that you

definitely

have a talented and eager tongue."

Mischievous look, followed by a playful kiss.

"Do I get just one scoop?"

"If you're good, maybe I'll put some on my nipples. Would you like that, my dear Valentine? Maybe, I can think of other places where I could share... and you could

eat

," her voice was now low and sultry... emphasizing the last word... eat.

That evening, we discovered the many places where Chocolate Fudge ice cream could be shared and enjoyed: nipples, belly button, and pubic hair. The chocolate fudge stream as it melted from her Venus Mound and flowed through that warm open valley, comingling with her earthy arousal was out of this world. Bev held her legs open to their maximum for my enjoyment. Her ballet flexibility, enhancing the whole erotic experience.

My balls. The pink mushroom head of my cock coated in a rich dark chocolate. Watching the tip of Bev's little pink tongue travel through the underside valley and then the base of the flared glans, made my eyes roll back in my head.

Bev watched, as I added my own cream to the chocolate mixture, and then proceeded to claim her chocolate-cream Valentine.

It was a good thing that we put down a towel, as things got messy; but, then, that's what long showers are for.

.................................................

A few inches of snow were predicted the coming weekend. Nothing major. How fitting.

I jokingly suggested that we have that 'Signature' meal of frozen pizza, like we shared that first night. Bev said that she really didn't care, as long as we took a shower together, wound up in bed together, naked, and cuddling after making slow and tender love.

And that's what we did.

As we cuddled in our 'lover's cuddle' we became sentimental over what the past year had brought to each of us. A closeness and a feeling of 'one' that neither of us had ever imagined existed in the real world. Such things are what fairy tales made of.

..............................................

The Spring musical, and ballet went off beautifully. Vickie and I stood in the back of the gymnasium, each of us with broad smiles of pride. We watched thirteen little ballerinas, all dressed in soft white tutus, leggings, and leotard tops, decorated with little red and yellow roses, go through the movements and positions that Bev and Vickie had put together, all to that familiar piano tune '

Raindrops on Roses'

.

Bev and Vickie worked together on the final concert and ballet for the school year, which included the complete third grade girls, all twenty seven. It was quite a feat to get all twenty seven ballerinas on stage and perform their routines, given the limited space; but, they did it. The last portion included all of the ballerinas on the main floor, 'flying' in front of the stage, up the center aisle, and around the outer edge of the seated parents. All with brilliant smiles.

It was fun to see all of their jubilant faces, as they stood back on stage and caught their breaths before performing their last Reverence bow to a thunderous applause and a sea of flash bulbs.

With the final musical and ballet of the school year over, Bev was, once again, off for the summer.

Bev's ballet classes with the City were growing. Many returning. Many first-timers from the local community and some from neighboring towns. The after school classes for the little kids, and the evening classes were now running twice a week. The evening classes were geared toward teens and older. The mayor, and city council were pleased: renewed community interest, money coming in to fund other programs, and more traffic to the downtown restaurants and bars. They were already gearing up for a summer program of other activities.

Bev was pleased with the additional, and unexpected, extra income.

Bev still attended her weekly class with Vickie. I had gotten some massage oils, along with some scented Epson Salts. It seemed like, even after all of these months, her once-a-week class was enough to cause her muscles to ache a bit, or so she claimed, as Vickie would always push Bev, challenging her. I was more than pleased to gently massage those aching muscles along with any other part of her bare body that Bev wanted massaged. Resting in a warm tub of scented Epsom salts, as I cradled her, was this side of heaven.

I couldn't wait for summer, and seeing my girlfriend in tight shorts, crop tops, halter tops, small bikini or less in the privacy of the back yard. Bev blushed, as I mentioned that last one. It was cute.

Bev was staying over as often as she could. We had fun, even when Wayne was in town. On those special nights, Bev would work her magic at the stove, as the three of us would sit around and listen to the funny things that had happened on Wayne's latest start-up adventure.

We started to learn more about each other. I discovered, quite by accident, that Champagne turned her libido up to a twelve. She discovered that she could get whatever she wanted, just by flashing me an 'over-the-shoulder' smile, especially if she bared her back and cute butt to me. And, if that didn't work, for some unknown reason, there was always a bare breast and dark pink nipple. She told me that I was, 'Too easy'. Yeah, I was. What can I say?

She discovered how much I loved showering with her, or just soaking in a warm tub of scented oils.

.....................................

Bev's second birthday, since we've been together was coming. Last year we did a 'date night'. This year, I wanted something special, something that she would never forget. I was thinking of a surprise weekend in Chicago, to a real ballet.

I got lucky. In four weeks, the 'Swan Lake' ballet was being performed at the Harris Theater for Music and Dance on three consecutive nights. I knew that this was, perhaps, her favorite ballet, as it was the one that she performed nude for me that one special evening in her apartment.

Back then, if you wanted to go somewhere, or do something that required tickets, you'd visit a travel agency. From there, you could set up all kinds of travel plans, from airline tickets, hotels, cruises, special events, and even complete weekend get-away packages.

Tickets, for the ballet, had just gone on sale to the general public that morning.

The Love Gods smiled down at me.

As I sat there, two first row balcony seats tickets

miraculously

popped up on the agent's computer screen. The agent was shocked that they were even available. Without hesitating, I grabbed them. Plus, a nice room at downtown historic hotel. The travel agent suggested taking the Union Pacific train in, no parking issues, no traffic, and mostly no stress. Once there, take cabs, or walk.

I had never thought of that. I don't know why. I mean, it was the same train that I took into Chicago from my hometown, during my many trips back and forth during my Freshman and Sophomore years at college.

We were in her bed, in our 'Lover's Cuddle'. I kissed the top of her head and told her that I had a Birthday surprise for her the next weekend. To make sure that she packed something a bit dressy, not formal dressy, just something classy; maybe little more than what she would wear to school. I was going to wear a coat and tie. Although with Bev, she could wear a burlap bag, and still look classy.

That

sparked her curiosity, to say the least.

The rest of the night, Bev teased, as only she could, to make me spill the beans. At one point, Bev, held me in her warm mouth, playfully, and skillfully kept me 'on-edge' for probably half an hour, or so. Her little tongue,

wickedly

dancing around and teasing the glistening pink glans. The tip of her pink tongue, traveling through that sensitive underside valley. Probing the oozing opening, that seeped with copious amounts precum with each throb of my tormented cock. Her hand, and fingers, gently massaging my aching balls.

All the time, grinning and whispering, "Do you want to cum?"

I could only nod.

"You can fill my mouth with your cum. All you have to do, is tell me what's going on in that imaginative brain of yours," another slow lick followed by a full slow warm mouth and soft pink lips gliding over the sensitive crown. All the while, those playful eyes and that playful grin staring back at me.

Man, she didn't play fair, and she knew it, as she would grin each time she posed that question. She did break down me enough to know that we would be spending the next weekend in downtown Chicago; but, that was it.

Knowing that that was about the best she could squeeze out of me, I filled her mouth to overflowing. I watched her sit up, grinning with a satisfying Cheshire Cat grin, swishing the contents around like a mouthwash, stretching her neck, and worked her throat muscles as she swallowed.

...............................................

Of all the time, I had lived in our small dairy town, my only exposure to Chicago was attending a baseball game at either Wriggly Field or Comiskey Park. Both of those times it was on a chartered bus with my dad, which their fraternal Club had sponsored.

At my young age or 8 or so, it was eye-opening. On the way to Wriggly Field, I remember the bus creeping along at a 'snails pace' and passing by Madison Avenue, then known as "Skid Row". The bus driver pointed out a passed-out man on the street. His one comment struck me when he said that, 'in a few hours the man's shoes would probably be gone'.

We got there mid-morning. Pulling up to the iconic seven story brick and windowed building, we both stood there in awe at the history of this building.

The first Palmer House hotel was destroyed one year after it opened in 1870 by the Chicago fire. The second hotel, on State and Monroe, where we were staying, was billed as the 'World's only Fire Proof Hotel'. It was seven stories, fitted with the first elevator, and larger rooms. Some of the guests that had stayed there included: Mark Twain, James Garfield, Grover Cleveland, Ulysses S. Grant, to name a few.

The room wasn't ready, which I kind of figured it wouldn't be, as normal check-in wasn't until 2:00. That was fine. They did let me check in, and would hold our luggage until the room was ready, and then arrange to have it sent up.

Bev went to the lady's room to freshen up a bit after the train ride. It gave me an opportunity to talk with the young girl, Coleen, who checked me in.

I told her about our plans for the ballet, later that evening. She told me that she had been there a few times, and that it was wonderful. The theater was large and beautiful, hardly a bad seat in the house. She suggested that we should plan on getting there a good 45 minutes before it began, to get comfortable, not feel rushed, and to take time to look around at the architecture. It was only a fifteen minute cab ride over there, and getting a cab there and back would not be a problem.

Coleen gave me some ideas for the afternoon: sight-seeing along the 'Magnificent Mile', the lake shore, and later, where to eat after the ballet. Knowing that that this was our first time to the 'Chi-town' she gave me the name of a nearby tavern for a 'true Chicago Style pizza'. Not a deep dish, but a tavern style with a thin crispy crust pizza with pinched sausage, Giardiniera peppers, and cut into various square sizes. She liked it over the Chicago Deep Dish style of pizza. She said that, in her opinion, the Deep Dish was too much crust, got soggy, and way too much to eat. Although, a lot of her friends liked it.

Coleen said that it was her favorite place to eat and that if that was something I was interested in, that she would call in and make reservations for us. This girl was going to receive a glowing review from me, and in some way, I was going to find a way to leave her a nice tip.

By the time Bev returned, looking radiant, I had a plan.

The weather was perfect, especially along the lake shore, mid 80's, low humidity with a gentle off-shore breeze. Bev and I casually walked the two city blocks to the lake, arm-in-arm like a couple in love, because we were.

Bev was dressed for comfort, and as usual, she looked spectacular. Loose white shorts and a halter top that was molded to those beautiful little breasts, which I had the pleasure of nursing on, earlier that morning. Her bare midriff, and the cute bellybutton caught the eye of many, as we strolled... men and women alike.

It was fun. It was really the first time that we had spent a whole day together like this. Just the two of us, out and about and away from all distractions. Yeah, we had spent many afternoons together, at either her apartment, or the house. Doing stuff together, going places; but, for some reason,

this

was different. It

felt

different. I can't explain it. It just was. It was like there was an added level of 'closeness'.

The view over the Lake was spectacular. Royal blue water that stretched to the far horizon. Hundreds of white sails dotted the blue water. Off in the distance white caps glistened. The sandy beach was filled with a variety of people: couples, families, teens. Some were flying kites over the water. Frisbees flying. A beach volleyball game.

At the first stop for some lunch, I was reminded that, "Toto, we're not in Kansas anymore," as I took a look at the menu and the prices. Oh well, that's what credit cards are for.

The thin-sliced Chicago Italian Beef sandwich, dotted with a few sweet Pepperoncini's, melted mozzarella cheese, and a freshly baked French roll was large enough for both of us. It was out of this world, and worth every penny.

Since the ballet started at 8:00, my plan for the evening was to leave the hotel around 7:00. After the ballet, I figured that it was still early enough that we could hit the tavern that Coleen had suggested, and then, I was going to take my girlfriend up to our room and make love to her like there was no tomorrow.

I had taken my shower, was dressed, and watching the Cubs. When the bathroom door opened, I once again gasped. Bev grinned.

She wore a white button-down sleeveless blouse. The top two buttons were undone, leaving it alluringly open to just above the delicate white lacy bra. Ruffles ran the length on both sides. At the base of her neck lay the delicate gold locket that I gave her at Christmas. Against her smooth chest, it was elegant. A pastel blue skirt ending and few inches above her knees. And a simple white belt hugged her tiny waist.

Her mascara was done to perfection. The dark eye-liner brought out the smoky-gray of her eyes. Each honey blonde eyelash thin and delicate. A bit of lip gloss.

"You like?" breaking my trance.

"Bev, you are absolutely beautiful. I can't wait to show you off to the rest of the world."

I could see a bit of a blush. It was cute.

"When you said to wear something a bit dressier than what I wore to school, I went shopping. I hope this is kind of what you had in mind."

"Bev, you could wear a burlap bag, and look elegant."

That brought a huge grin.

In the cab, Bev listened as I gave the cabbie the name of our destination... 'Harris Theater for Music and Dance'. Her eyes went wide.

"You're taking me to a ballet?"

"Yes I am."

"Oh my gosh, Bill. I never dreamed that this was what you had planned. I've never been to a real ballet. Now, I know why you wanted me to dress up a bit," Bev leaned over and lightly kissed my cheek, "You never cease to amaze me. It's why I love you so much," I got another kiss. "What's the name of the ballet?"

"You'll see in a few minutes."

Pulling up in front, Bev took in the name on the Marquee, 'Swan Lake'.

"Happy Birthday, my one and only love."

I could see the tears coming, as she buried her face into my shoulder.

"Bill, I don't know what to say," as she dabbed her eyes with her white hankie, "Nothing like this has

ever

happened to me. Right now, all I can say, is Thank you," I could hear the 'lump' in her throat, "Thank you from the bottom of my heart, my one and only love. 'Swan Lake'. You remembered."

"How can I ever forget the performance of a life-time, in your apartment?"

Even in the dim light of the cab, I could see the satisfying smile, as Bev recalled that erotic and sensual evening. This time,

I

kissed

her

cheek.

We wandered around, and took in the architecture of the theater. I could tell, that at first, Bev was nervous that she wasn't dressed enough. After a few minutes, that concern was gone, as she relaxed into me.

The ballet was a bit over two hours and was split into to four acts, each lasting 25 to 35 minutes, with a 20 minute interval between acts 3 and 4.

Bev knew the story of the ballet. For us uninformed, it was fortunate that the program laid it out, act by act.

Briefly.

'Swan Lake' is the love story of Prince Siegfried and the Princess Odette.

Because Princess Odette refused the evil sorcerer's, Baron Von Rothbaret's, hand in marriage, he cast a spell and transformed Princess Odette into a swan, which is the symbol of beauty and purity.

He then, bewitched her, so that she could not marry another. Von Rothbaret's expectation was that, in captivity, she would eventually consent to marry him.

While on a hunting trip, Prince Siegfried encounters a flock of swans, falls in love with the Swan Queen, Odette, and swears his allegiance and undying love to her.

As a result of the curse, Odette can only take human form between midnight and daybreak.

Breaking the spell is a potent theme in 'Swan Lake'. Odette embodies beauty and purity, but cannot fulfill her natural birthright as a woman. Siegfried's love, with is potential to humanize Odette, can free her from her curse. Then, and only then, can she shed her swan identity and be the woman she was born to be, and to the man who loved her.