Heaven's Gate

It is that cold time of the year for us in the State of Georgia, February being its damp, dreary self. I'm always glad to see the back of this month and I look forward to the warmth of Spring when I can wear less clothes and let the sun touch my cheeks with its rays, making my pale winter skin glow with health once again.

I've been between lovers these past few months, since last July to be exact. No guy seemed to fit the bill for me; perhaps I'm too finicky...who knows. And to be quite honest, I haven't been looking all that hard for a man. I wanted to get completely over my last encounter so I wouldn't carry any needless baggage into a new relationship.

Dennis, my ex-lover, is such a charming man. Well, he was until near the end, when we became disenchanted with each other. I suppose that like many affairs do, ours ended unhappily, but I'd really hoped we'd retain the friendship. We didn't.

I'd settled my slim body into the over-stuffed, rose-colored chair in the corner of my bedroom. My left elbow on the arm of the chair, my chin resting in the palm of my hand. I watched him pack his things the day he left my life. Gosh, that man is handsome. With his hazel eyes and dark brown hair, you'd never know he's 42. He stays lean by working out with weights in the gym twice a week, and he plays Racquet Ball when he can...at least he did when we were together. My eyes roamed over his body as he moved in long strides, back and forth from the bedroom closet to his luggage that laid on the bed, where he was shifting his clothes around in the bag, trying to make room for everything. I'm sure he felt my gaze on his broad back as he moved around the room, but he made no mention of it.

Putting the last of his toiletries in the luggage, Dennis furrowed his brow and groaned as he firmly closed the lid. The air had been so still with no conversation between the two of us that the simple sound of the latches clicking shut seemed like an explosion to my ears. Tears were trying to escape my dark brown, black-lashed eyes but I held them in check. Weeping now wouldn't change things. I had to let him leave as he wished and move on with my life.

I silently followed him to the front door where he handed me his key to the apartment. He turned, took one last look around the place where he had resided with me for the last two years and exited, not even saying goodbye. As I closed the door behind him, a tear trickled down my left cheek. I would get along without him but it would be difficult. At least the arguments were at an end and my broken heart could begin to heal.

The days moved slowly onward but I had my job as an accountant to keep me busy and my sweet tomcat, Marmalade, to prevent me from being lonely at home. My work began picking up in January when people came to me, wanting me to do their Federal Income Tax papers. This would give me some extra cash that would allow me to consider taking a holiday later on in the year. I could certainly use some time off to relax.

Susan, the cute Chinese girl from Malaysia, flagged me down as I entered the office the other day. She's been the secretary there for the last five years and we've become very good friends the past few months. Standing 5'6", with shiny black, straight hair to just below her shoulders, she has wonderful almond-shaped, dark eyes and a smile that would melt any man's heart. Su makes peoples' lips curve upward as they enter our work place no matter how dour they are feeling that day. With her good disposition and keen mind added to the mix, she has quickly become an asset that we six accountants in the office can not do without. She works for us altogether.

Su has a friend in Atlanta that is a big time lawyer, and they had been dining at the Outback Steakhouse the other night. He had been moaning to her about how his life had become so hectic, that he didn't even have time to get his taxes done. He would rather be spending the free time he did have on a golf course with his cronies followed by his favorite ice-cold beer, Bud. She had listened quietly but intently to all he had to relate and then suggested that he take his tax papers to me to work on at my home. It would save him from sitting around in an over-crowded office and be less stressful. Susan knew I was looking for extra money and felt his needs might prove beneficial for both him and me. After listening to her reassurances of my ability in accounting, he asked her to please approach me about handling his taxes this year.

My arms had been filled with tax papers, my clutch bag and assorted items when she had waved me towards her that morning. I'd walked over and leaned my left hip against the side of her desk, pushing my long brown, curly hair away from my face with the lean tapered fingers of my right hand. After warmly greeting her, I asked Su what I could do for her. She enquired if I was still looking for ways to make extra cash to which I quickly responded with an affirmative nod of my head.

As I emptied my arms of their burdens onto her desktop, I gave heed to what she was relaying to me about her friend Forrest, the lawyer. Our accounting office is located a bit north of Buckhead, a better section of Atlanta, and I didn't live far from my job. If Forrest decided to have me do his taxes, he wouldn't have a great distance to travel to get to my place. I told Susan to give him my home phone number and have him call me one night soon. I'd set up a time for us to meet and we could work out the details.

A couple evenings later I entered my front door to hear my phone ringing off the hook. Easing the two bags of groceries I'd been carrying to the floor, I scampered to the clanging instrument and picked up the receiver. A warm, southern, masculine voice seduced my ear. I didn't know who it was but it certainly had my attention! As I continued to listen, the voice identified its owner as Forrest, Susan's friend.

I sat back against the cushions of my couch near the phone which rested on one of the end tables as Forrest spoke of the demands on his time and wondered if I could possibly find room for him in my own busy schedule. My fingertips smoothed a wrinkle from my skirt as I thought about his request. I suggested he come by my place in about an hour and let me take a look at what all he needed done. He agreed and I said my goodbye, rushed around to put the groceries in the kitchen cabinets and picked up things around the apartment before he arrived.

The doorbell rang as I finished making a steaming pot of aromatic coffee and placed some freshly baked cinnamon rolls on a crystal platter. Placing the laden dish and hot coffee on the table, I rushed to the foyer, looked in the mirror on the wall, smoothed my hair with my left hand, glanced down to see if all was well with how I was dressed and opened the door with a big smile on my face.

Su had not bothered to describe Forrest. He stood about 5'11"and weighed around 180 pounds. He was lean and had light blue eyes. His short blond hair was beginning to gray, and his mustache matched his hair. She had said he was 50 years in age but looked a lot younger than that. I could tell he took a lot of pride in his appearance. He'd driven straight from his office and was immaculately dressed in a gray, pinstriped suit, a white, long-sleeved shirt and a maroon silk tie. He smelled yummy too, but I couldn't quite place the cologne he was wearing. Whatever the fragrance was, it was subtle, and I imagined he made many a woman look twice as he passed them on the street.

Forrest returned my smile and placed his hand out in front of him to shake mine, said hello, and gave me his name. His easy grin reached all the way to his blue eyes, making them twinkle with charm. Inviting him in, I led him to the dining room table where we could spread his tax papers out and address the issues while sipping our hot coffee.

I've always preferred the casual approach to work and sitting around the dining room table seemed suitable for what we were doing that night. Leaning back in my ladder back chair, I broke off a small piece of cinnamon roll with my fingers and lifted it to my mouth, enjoying the warm spice mixed with the sweet, white icing as it melded together on the surface of my tongue. Forrest sifted through his papers, reached over the table and handed me a few of them to look through. He explained the figures on them as I picked up my cup, blew softly and sipped the hot brew.

Running my right thumb abstractedly over my chin, I glanced through his numbers. Everything looked pretty much straightforward and I would just require the time to compile the paperwork for him. Peering up and over the pages, I assured Su's friend that I felt I could do the job if he chose to hire me. I noticed a look of relief come over Forrest's handsome face as he stood up and extended his hand to shake mine in agreement. A deal had been made between us.

Pushing my chair back, I got up and moved to my work desk in the living room. As I hunted through the second small drawer on the lower right hand side of the desk, I found a stack of manila folders and removed one, then walked back to the dining room. Forrest had stacked his papers neatly while I was absent from the room, handing them to me when I returned so I could place them in the folder and label it with his name. Laying the folder aside on the table, I began to pick up the soiled cups and dishes to put them in the kitchen for a clean up after he left. Surprisingly, I found Forrest gathering items as well. "You don't have to bother with that," I told him, but he assured me he didn't mind a bit. I was well on the way to thinking of him as a great guy, most definitely a gentleman.

I noticed Forrest seemed at ease in the kitchen as he piled the clutter in the sink. I started rinsing the dishes and asked if he liked to cook. He chuckled and said he was divorced and found if he didn't want to eat out all the time, he had better learn to prepare some simple meals. A few years back he'd found a local vocational school that offered night courses in basic cooking for bachelors and he'd signed up. He'd enjoyed the friendly atmosphere among the men there and was able to fend for himself by the time the culinary art classes were over.

Putting the last of the articles in the dishwasher, I closed the door, made another fresh pot of coffee, and we wandered into my living room to relax. Laying my cup in its saucer upon the dark wood of the elongated coffee table, I plumped some pillows behind my back as I settled into the corner of my sofa. After slipping my shoes off and drawing my shapely legs up under me, I reached for my cup again, enjoying the warmth of the liquid as it trickled down my throat. I heard Forrest quietly sigh as he let his long, lean body ease into one of the high backed chairs adjacent to the couch, stretching his legs in front of him and crossing his ankles. He muttered something about it having been a trying day and that it was good to just sit down and unwind.

I too had been stressed by a hectic day, pushing a pencil at work, attempting to meet deadlines, running errands afterwards that insisted upon being done. It was nice to have someone to exchange pleasantries with in the comfort of my home that evening. My lips turned up slightly as I listened to Forrest tell about his afternoon at work, of being a corporate lawyer and all it entailed. He has this wonderful way of blending amusing tales about his clients along with the everyday humdrum of his work, making even the most boring piece of trivia interesting. I was delighted with my guest and his chat.

About that time Marmalade padded lazily out of my bedroom where he'd been catnapping and took a long look at Forrest. Forrest stared right back at my feline friend, blue eyes looking hard into golden topaz, slanted ones. I thought for a moment we were going to have a war, but Marmie leaped up into Forrest's lap and arranged his shorthaired butt to where he was comfortable. Marm doesn't take to many men, preferring women, but quickly began to purr when my guest stroked his back. It was easy to see that Su's friend had a way with animals as well as with people. I was tickled she'd sent him my way and apparently Marmalade was too!

A bit later Forrest pushed his shirt cuff up and looked at his watch. He was amazed to see how much time had flown by. Lifting a reluctant Marmalade up from his lap, he placed my cat on the floor and proceeded to get up from the chair. Laying his cup down on the coffee table, he brushed a few cat hairs off his pants and straightened back up, stretching his back. I could tell he was really tired. "I want to thank you for all your help in advance," he said. "And I've truly enjoyed meeting you. Would you mind if I called you sometime? Perhaps I could have you over one night to try out my cooking skills?" That sounded good to me and I consented with a "Sure, give me a ring. I'd love to see what all you can do in the kitchen." My eyes twinkled with mischief as I pondered the image of him in front of a stove with an apron tied around his waist. He gave me a quizzical look but I kept silent. I didn't think he'd be amused with my vision.

Slipping my feet back into my shoes that I'd taken off earlier, I sought his overcoat and handed it to him. It was getting colder as the hour grew older. He'd not want to forget and leave it behind. I opened my front door and waved goodbye as he left my home, wishing him a safe and speedy trip to his own place, hoping I'd hear from him soon.

I put our cups and saucers in the sink to be washed the next morning when I awakened and started moving from room to room, shutting off the lights, as I aimed towards the back of my apartment. My place wasn't really big but adequate for my needs. It had two bedrooms, my own and a one for guests, a bath and a half, dining room, kitchen, and living room. The two things I liked best about it were the huge closets and all the kitchen cabinets. I love clothes and enjoy cooking. I needed space for all of that.

Flicking the light switch upward on the wall near the door, I entered my bedroom and gazed around it. I love my creature comforts and this was my favorite room when I wasn't stirring a pot in the kitchen. I'd made the room homey with a queen-sized bed, complete with a flower-printed down comforter and huge, fluffy pillows to match at the top of the bed. The rose-colored, cushioned chair was still by one of the windows, which allowed streams of sunshine in the room during the daytime, making the room cheery. A footstool made of fine carved oak sat in front of the chair so I could be cozy with an afghan over my legs and lap while reading late at night with my feet propped up after a long day at work. A shiny brass, floor table lamp was by the chair to offer good light over my shoulder whenever I'd be engrossed in a book. My walls were painted a light cream and a rich, warm tan carpet was on the floor. With an oak triple dresser on the opposite wall from the bed, a couple of small tables... one with a small, rose and cream china lamp, the other with personal items on top of it, and an oak bookcase against another wall, the room was complete. I felt comfortable there.

Walking over to the bookcase, I bent forward and tugged a book from one of the shelves, a romantic novel I'd been reading the night before. Crossing over to the chair, I laid it on the table lamp to read a bit later before climbing in bed. But first, I wanted to take a steaming hot shower and wash my hair. My shoulder muscles felt tight and I thought the heat would let them loosen up.

I found a very pale violet, sheer, silk gown in the dresser drawer and threw it over my left arm and went to the linen closet where I pulled out a clean, fluffy cream-colored towel. Slinging it over my right shoulder, I padded into the bathroom. Sliding the glass shower door to the side, I reached over and turned the knobs for the hot and cold water, letting the steam billow in the room.

Laying the gown and towel on the bathroom counter by the sink, I peeked up at the shelves above the commode, looking for the fragrant shower gel I loved to use. I'd been to Victoria's Secret the afternoon before and stocked up on my latest favorite scent...Rapture. I'd bought the shower gel, body lotion and some cologne as well. I didn't really care to wear any perfume, as it always seemed too strong; I preferred the cologne instead. It was much lighter in smell. I wanted men to notice me, not just my perfume.

Tugging the hem of my wedge blue sweater up and over my head, I dropped it to the floor and unsnapped the front enclosure of my white lace demi-bra, letting it follow the path of the sweater. My fingers unzipped my wool skirt in the back and I pushed it down over my hips, past my curved ass cheeks, and stepped out of it, laying it on top of the other clothes. Sitting down on the padded lid of the commode, I undid my thigh high hose from my white, lacy garter belt, and slowly rolled them down over my firm thighs and well shaped calves. Slipping out of my 2", black leather pumps, I removed the hose from my feet and tossed them upon the pile. As I stood back up, my thumbs entered the sides of my light blue, silk bikini panties. Sliding them down, the smoothness of the silk caressed my sensitive skin as they inched along my body, making me shiver. I loved sexy underwear. My mother had always told me that if you want to look beautiful on the outside, you need to start on the inside first. I knew what she really meant but I decided to apply her advice to the small items I wore closest to my skin. This worked well for me and made me feel very sensual.

With the tube of shower gel in my hand, I stepped into the streams of hot water, tilting my face up to the spray, sighing deeply. As I turned around to let the jetting water from the shower massager hit my back and shoulders, I could feel the tension begin to release from my tight muscles. I pressed the tube held in my left hand with my thumb, letting some of the gel flow into my right palm, then slowly smoothed it against my skin, working my way from my face, down my trim, well-proportioned body. My nipples hardened as my finger pads touched them. The three-inch saucers around my stiffened nubs began to wrinkle up, showing my growing excitement. Positioning a finger between my thighs, I could feel moisture there that had not been created by the shower. My thumb flicked back and forth gently against my clit and I felt it enlarging from my ministrations. Shifting my feet wider apart so I wouldn't fall down, I lifted my right hand and removed the shower massager head from it's place at the top, allowing the water from it to wash away all the suds from my skin. Spreading my thighs even wider, and separating the sweet folds of my pussy, I let the pulsing water pound upon my swollen bud. My love button was so sensitive that I immediately exploded into a hard orgasm, having to lean my left shoulder against the pink ceramic tiled wall for support. My legs felt like jelly as cum dripped down to the wet floor. My whole body trembled. I had not realized I had been so filled with sexual tension. As my breathing settled down, I eased back up to a standing position and finished lathering my legs with the gel, rinsing off afterwards.

Turning both the hot and cold water off, I slid the glass door to the left and stepped out of the shower onto a thick, pale pink bathrug. The softness under my feet hungrily soaked up the water dripping off the surface of my body. I grabbed the fluffy towel and let it absorb the rest of the dampness, making my skin ready for the pale violet gown I'd gathered earlier. The soft material moved down the upper part of my body and shimmered to the lower half. I ran the flat of my hand across the surface of the gown to loosen any wrinkles that might have lingered from where it had waited upon me to finish my bath, then buttoned the tiny pearl near my throat. The nightgown was very simple in its cut and design and that made it even sexier, to my way of thinking.