This is dedicated to "Angelo". Our growing friendship, mutual appreciation for "our dance", and for the joy of each insightful, playful and passionate discussion we have remains a high point in each day. I hope that I have done justice to your imaginative creation and the passion that fills your heart.
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Diana….
It is amazing how much junk mail accumulates over a period of just one week. And to my way of thinking, monthly statements that remind me as how impulsively I sometimes utilize plastic, excite me just about as much. Going through the stack before me did little to hold my attention. Most of it hit the recycle bin without more than a glance, and definitely not the effort to open any of it.
Found myself lamenting the absence of a personal letter from a friend or one of my sister's kids. Like pennies from heaven, there in the bottom third of the stack was a handwritten linen envelope addressed to me. Delightedly, I settled back to open it, just to see who might be proving a kink in my theory that the world has become totally impersonal.
The content was not a letter after all; but instead, there was a gold embossed gift certificate for a massage. There was no gift card to identify my benefactor. Intriguing!! Upon further reading of the certificate, I was both excited and impressed to see that the establishment was a very upscale day spa. This was definitely not a place I had ever treated myself to before! Looking at my watch, I realized that it was already after seven. Any effort to call tonight and find out who might have been so generous would be futile.
No answers were to be forthcoming!! The receptionist was polite, professional, and equally resolute that the name of my benefactor was confidential. It was then that she told me that the gift had been upgraded to include a complete day at the spa; the package included a facial, manicure, pedicure, lunch and the massage to complete the day. Then in a sweet and soothing voice she asked, "Would you like to make arrangements for your appointment at this time? Oh, look! You are in for such a treat! Your masseuse has already been selected for you!"
Three days later, I find myself feeling thoroughly pampered and about to disrobe for this touted massage with their most sought after masseuse. Only this morning did they tell me that he was unsighted. This unfortunate event in his life was supposedly his gift now to those fortunate enough to have a session with him. He operates totally reliant upon his other senses to guide him. He had a room created by his own direction to enhance his encounters with his clientele.
The room was painted with an our-door freshness of blues, lavenders, and shades of white. Looking around the room, a peaceful sensuality was evident. Each of the five senses were represented and stimulated by fragrances, color, a cool glass of spring water with a nice lemon wedge, the soft texture of the robe that cuddled my body, a delicate wind chime. So sensual a room! So plush!
Nothing covers the cushioned table in the center of the room but a layer of soft delicate satin. The lighting was tens upon tens of sweet aromatic candles of an exotic fragrance. The music is that of Enya.
There on the table is another envelope bearing my name. Hesitantly, my fingers opened the flap and removed the card. This one was hand written in an unfamiliar script that read: "Your task is to assure that I satisfy your every pleasure by my touch. Use only your soft sensual voice to guide my touch to your need. And, besides this ever so pleasurable assignment to satisfy you, your body, and your mind, I must also, by the end of this first meeting, be able to accurately describe you as if I had captured every inch of you within my minds eye."
"Sweet Jeepers!" I heard myself say as my knees wobbled with unexpected desire. It was as though he had already seduced me with his words. And, yet, he was but an enigma.
I slipped between the aromatic sheets that had the delicate smell of jasmine. Lying face down, my dark red hair cascaded downward towards the floor. Goose bumps erupted over my entire body when the door quietly opened.
Angelo…..
How many times have I entered this room? God only knows! Nevertheless, this uneasy feeling seems to grow with each new encounter. The feeling becomes more intense as years go by. The toll continues on what was once almost arrogant confidence.
I had the kind of confidence so typical in youth. I was a macho Italian kid that survived by adopting the demeanor of the streets. The ghetto kid who used to command "respect" and assured his leadership position amidst his peers.
How adept I was at secretly shielding what was really within. It was not cool to possess an inner gentle heart. I never revealed that information on those tough competitive streets in Brooklyn. But, it was well understood by those close me, my family, and especially the only girl I've ever loved. They knew. But, I never told them. They just knew.
I thought I'd marry her one-day. I was always hot to make one of the neighborhoods girls, and always confident of doing it too! But Anna was never to be violated! She was to be respected! She was for marrying! There is an unwritten code of Italian men like me.
But, that was so long ago. He sighed deeply as he continued to review the circumstances of his life.
A freak accident robbed those dreams! I could see then! When darkness came, my world was prematurely aborted and I ran away from it all. I left it, my family and my Anna. Everyone and everything that was part of that world was left behind.
I was fortunate to find friends that accepted me as I was. Some helped to train me and renew my confidence by using my other senses. I learned how to feel my way to a new life. I have become very, very good at my work!
My senses, and especially my sense of touch, quickly helped me recapture most of the old confidences. My conquests became the pleasurable moans of clients. This became my new way of life. But now, once again, that restored almost arrogant confidence begins to seemingly waver at least temporarily, at the start of each these new and always pleasurable engagements.
My virility and reasonably well maintained body have long begun to feel the compromise of age, changes, and most can easily be sensed and felt even without sight. But what of the olive tanned skin and the handsome features that never failed to capture the girls of my sighted youth? What of the acquired serenity conveyed through my hands that rarely fail to seduce the ladies of my sightless massaged? What tributes due to age have been paid? How will I know? Every new entry to this room is like starting over. The reaction from the lady within provides a constant measure and thus my increase in heartbeat with each new engagement.
And so, each new time I must enter this room, it becomes a bit more difficult to quell the annoying troublesome concern about appearance. But only temporarily!
Once the door is closed behind me, the old confidence surges! I force myself to project what is expected! I mentally assume that the lady within can still see what was, rather than what my sightless mind assumes.
The client must be made to sense only the confidence and gentle control of a lover. She must feel his excitement with her sensuality. What will this new lady see and feel?
If the plan read to me proceeds as written, a woman named Diana will indeed be willing to reveal her sensuality and expose her deep-seated passion. Soon after my experienced hands, fingers, and lips begin to massage, tantalize, and tempt, she will release all her lust. The fun will be in trying to gage how long she will take to succumb! How long will it take to expose her wanton needs?
The plan did not say if this gift is for a birthday, or anniversary, or some other special occasion. Really doesn't matter though the treatment is the same. As I close the door behind me, the time has come for this lady to be excited and pleasured, as she has never been before.
Together…
Ah, good the music I requested is playing the first cut on Enya's new album, "A Day Without Rain". The selection sequence of this album should match my expected changes of her arousal quite nicely.
Hmm, I'm a little surprised by the sweet smell, of jasmine. I'm sure I was told that her favorite was essence of violets. No matter, either does nicely to complement my worship of her body gloriously.
I make my way over this familiar path to the table in the center of the room. Once touching the soft edge of the table, I gently reach to feel for this woman, this stranger to whom I am to give pleasure. She is startled by my unexpected touch on her satin covered derriere.
"Oh, I guess that you have decided to have me start on your backside". I quietly laughed. "But, I do assume you are comfortable in that position Diana? You don't mind if I call you Diana do you? I am called Angelo. May I say that you are quite beautiful"? I smile as I explain how I was provided a short verbal briefing about her appearance.
"I assume you have been advised of my vision, or rather lack of it. Were you informed as well as what pleasures you may expect to experience while I am with you"?
"Please, given my condition, provide me as much verbal guidance as you feel necessary. But, be advised that I may vary from your preferences somewhat if I think that they may inhibit your sensing the fullest pleasure my techniques may provide. Oh, and please forgive my fingers, and my lips too! They will by design, occasionally touch, pass, feel or probe some sensitive area of your body as I soothe it. If it helps to relax you, simply attribute it to my sightlessness". I say with a smile in my voice. "But truthfully dear Diana, I think that any desire or need for excuses will pass quickly."
"Yes I understand." I can almost hear the soft smile in her lovely voice. " I'm pleased to meet you Angelo. You know you are quite attractive yourself. I'm told you are an excellent masseur, and I most defiantly am looking forward to your highly recommended technique." And with that exchange, my confidence is fully renewed.
"Well dear lady, I truly hate to disturb how relaxed and restful you must be lying in that plush cushion. But if you look to the right you will see a lovely waterfall cascading into what appears to be a very inviting pool of water. In fact, it is a herbal warm bath, and I wish for you to rise up so that we may begin our little adventure over there."
