Silver Lining

The initial attraction was her art. It’s true; she wasn’t even there when I got to her booth at the Arts Festival. A triangular-shaped, rounded-edged piece with a crazy lid first caught my attention.

“Touch it, if you like,” I heard from behind me. Flowing hair, flowing skirt, piercing but gentle eyes attached to the sweet voice. Sparks exploded into the timespace between us when I looked at her. That wonderful, hot sensation when immediate passion occurs. Good thing I didn’t have one of her creations in my hands then. I’m sure I’d have dropped it.

“I like it a lot,” I replied, gathering some of the wits I did have before she arrived. I wasn’t sure if I meant the art or the feeling that danced through me, between us. Maybe both. We chatted about her work. She told me how she made some of the pieces. Two small round containers struck me. They had lightning bolts on top and jagged-edged lids. One had grooves that looked like raindrops inside. I asked how she had made them. “With my own fingers and a stick,” she responded. I imagined her working on the piece. Then, I imagined her working on me.

The other one had a similar lightning bolt pattern on top, but inside was a smooth gray metallic glazed finish. “A silver lining,” I quipped. She laughed, asking if she could use that line to help sell that piece. It seemed appropriate, since I was trying to sell her something as well.

I introduced myself, she told me her name too, and we shook hands. I thought there was something there when we looked at each other and spoke, but it was nothing compared to when we touched. Electricity, chemistry, connection! She smiled seductively but coyly; I just smiled my usual overly optimistic grin.

She had other customers, so I departed. I stopped back, but she was busy again, so I just asked for a business card. I told her I would call her, had something I wanted to ask her, and looked around the festival a bit more, then left. I thought I would just phone her and try to arrange a meeting. After a few blocks of driving home, I turned around and went back to see her. Sometimes things like that are too hot to hold onto for very long; mostly, I just couldn’t wait. The sparks had turned to flames in me and I wanted to let them burn out of control with her, right then, that night.

The booths at the festival were closing as I returned. Artists were packing their wares. I hoped I wasn’t too late. She had three friends/customers in her booth, making last minute purchases, so I just waited as she wrapped the works they had selected and collected her hard-earned reward. She kept looking at me as she worked; I never took my eyes off her. Then, I saw it, the silver wedding band. Shit!

Now I’m usually quite good a spotting a wedding ring – usually I check that immediately. Maybe I didn’t think an attached woman would interact with me like she had. Or maybe the sparks just blinded me. Either way, my plan had just fallen to pieces!

The plan I had formulated while returning to the festival was a very straightforward one. I was just going to ask her to come home with me and make wild passionate love with me. Just like that! Just let the sparks turn to flame in my bed and burn all night. So when she turned to me as the others left, I didn’t know what to say. She did.

“Are you married?” she asked. I shook my head no. “I am,” she replied, “these things should be known.”

“I just saw the ring now.” I laughed a little, thinking of my foolishness. “I came back here to try to seduce you. I had felt something earlier; maybe I was just fantasizing. I have a pretty good imagination sometimes.”

“You’re not wrong about that, we felt it. Would you help me close up?”

We carefully placed her clay sculptures on the floor and in some boxes. She pulled down the flaps of the booth. We were in the middle of downtown, with hundreds of people around, but we had our own private timespace. The canvas was white and there were a few lights outside so that our area had a kind of glow to it. “Looks like we have our own silver lining right here,” I said.

She smiled at my re-fashioned humor. She came over, put her arms around me, and kissed me hard on the mouth. I kissed her back hard, pulling her closer to me as the fireworks in the silver-lined booth began. “Quick, before I change my mind,” she whispered. She pulled her dress over her head, brilliant hair everywhere. Bra and panties flew off her and onto the ground. I pulled off my shirt, she undid my pants and I kicked them off.

I touched her; she was already wet. She touched me and I was instantly hard. She raised one foot onto a short pedestal and guided me into her. We kissed each other more passionately, rocking back and forth, in and out, touching, passion’s fury unleashed. The silver-tinted canvas showed our shadows locked in untamed embrace. And I suspect we both could see and feel the sparks of the meteoric moment splashing onto the canvas.

She threw her head back in a muted orgasmic frenzy and I plunged into her even harder to send her over the edge. I felt her excitement wash over me, coating me with her enjoyment. This inspired an explosion from me into her. I felt her grip me as my last thrusts melted inside her. We locked in a new kind of passionate kiss, the kind that only passion-fulfilled lovers know how to give.

She broke away, scooped up my pants and shirt and handed them to me. As I put them on, she wrapped one of her pieces, handed it to me, and pushed me through the flaps on the booth.

I walked a little, feeling the coolness of the evening as compared to the heat in the space I had just left. I sat down on a park bench, opened the hastily wrapped package, and removed the gift. Lightning bolt on top, silver lining inside.

Sometimes, even a silver wedding ring can have a silver lining.