Traditionally southern springs are humid with blustery winds, a lot of warm rain showers, and an abundance of budding plants awaiting nature's signal to bloom. One such March, we were all treated to what can only be described as a winter hurricane.
That Friday in the early afternoon the gray clouds began to form and build. The winds escalated and howled as they reached upwards to hurricane strength. The difference between this experience and a normal hurricane was the bone chilling temperatures. As the wind howled , it began to snow. Large flakes billowed about instead of the driving rains that normally accompany such a storm.
As I looked out of the bedroom window in amazement my adrenaline began to surge. This indeed was going to add a new element to the adventure we were to undertake. The storm was an unexpected guest. Nathan and I were due at the airport in an hour to greet a traveler we had awaited with both anticipation and anxiety.
We had met Craig briefly on two prior occasions while traveling to the Bay Area. He had been a dear friend of a former lover who had since died. This shared link to my lost love created a special bond between us.
As I dressed, my mind wandered back to the days when it was Andrew who would get off that plane. Ours was an unusual relationship in that we saw each other only once or twice per year. The rest of the time we communicated with written correspondence, telephone dates with a shared bottle of wine, and through a unique ability to connect telepathically.
During the times Andrew and I were able to physically be together, we disconnected from everything and everyone else. Watches were discarded, telephones unplugged, and we entered into a world we created for ourselves called "pludder-play". When I was with him, I felt like the most sensual creature alive; and my sexual desire reached its highest level. Together we were a primal force experiencing life with no boundaries.
Enveloped in this dream state I dressed for him. I imagined his eyes watching me, appraising my movements, nodding his approval at my choices in color or fabric to adorn my body.
From my lingerie drawer I chose a black corset with laces that allowed me to contour the shape of my waist and the lift of my breasts. Sheer black silk stockings clung to my legs and accentuated the fullness of my calves. In contrast, the dress was black wool with long sleeves and a turtleneck.
As though he were present in the room with me, I envisioned his arms encircling me as his lips brushed the nape of my neck, and he whispered that he was wearing a hard on just for me. A trail of goose bumps traveled my spine with the excitement my ghost lover had stirred within me.
What brought me back to reality was the sound of Nathan's voice calling me. "Diana, the bags are in the car. Are you almost ready?"
"I'll be right there Nathan. Give me a sec to get a hat."
I chose a medium brimmed black felt hat rimmed with a mid-night blue velvet ribbon and six feather plumes in a matching color. After adjusting it with a slight tilt to the right over my eyebrow, I looked critically at the image in the mirror. The woman who looked back at me had sparkling eyes that declared her confidence. Satisfied, I grabbed my purse and descended the stairway.
Nathan took my hand as I reached the landing and turned me about. "Wow woman you look hot! This is for you!" he said as he guided my hand to his crotch. His penis was engorged with arousal. I could not help but smile when a small wet spot appeared on his trousers. My pet name for this wonderful man is "Ever-ready"; his signal is always love drops that seep from the tip of his penis.
The trip to the airport was harried. New Orleans drivers are normally dangerous but with the added dimension of snow, it was more of a life and death matter. As luck would have it we were late in arriving at the terminal.
"Wouldn't it be something if he traveled all the way from San Francisco and we drive ten miles and he still beat us to the airport?"
"Relax, Diana. The tower has probably shut some of the runways down so a lot of planes will be circling until the runway is clear. If it will calm you some, I'll drop you off before I park the car."
The terminal was crowded with weary travelers whose flights had been canceled as well as family and friends there to pick up travelers whose flights had been delayed by the weather. Checking the monitor I confirmed that Craig's flight had not yet arrived, so I made my way to the bar to wait and think.
Sipping a gin and tonic my eyes began to float over the sea of humanity that crowded the bar. Fragments of animated conversation occasionally punctuated by laughter floated through the room with a lulling hypnotic effect. The mood here was festive as though all were traveling home for the holidays.
Christmas was always the time Andrew came home as he said for his annual "reality check". He was born in the South; and, relished the food, soft southern speech patterns, jazz and blues music, and the variety of shades of green that is the essence of the swamps.
We first met at a wedding reception hosted on a paddle wheeler that cruised the Mississippi River, both of us guests of the bride. He was in the midst of a group of older ladies that seemed captivated by the story he was telling. "Yes, yes California was something to behold. Strange folk they are though. They think just because I talk slower that I must automatically think slower. So I just drawl on with the clock ticking and send them all a bill for my legal services, extra think time included of course."
"What about the ladies Andrew? Are you in love?" A stout matronly woman flirted outrageously with him.
"Yes ma'am. I fall in love every day. You know there are a lot of 'funny men' out there in San Francisco and the pickin's are a might slim for the ladies. I feel it's my duty as a Southern gentleman to look out for as many of them as I possibly can."
I could not take my eyes off of him. He was dressed in a white suit with a pale blue ruffled shirt and tie. His hair was a shock of thick blond curls, and his goatee a strawberry blond color. His eyes were a deep chocolate brown that was so intense that left no doubt that he was a man of intelligence. His eyes danced with merriment as he charmed his audience.
Enchanted, I moved closer with the intent of talking to this person, touching this person, knowing this person. He looked like young Joseph Cotton and handled himself with the dramatic flair of a great plantation owner when the South was in its infancy. All that was missing was a Panama hat to complete the image. I was in love with him before our first words were exchanged.
He must have felt my presence for he turned to face me; our eyes locked. "Excuse me ladies". He said with a slight bow before making his way to my side. I felt certain that he was acting out a role for everyone's benefit. From the start, we formed a bond and a chemistry that I have never experienced with another soul.
We gravitated to the dance floor where we shamelessly excluded everyone else present. Melody after melody, we danced. Our bodies were pressed against the other. A yellow sundress covered my otherwise bare breasts. My nipples were rigid, ripe, and obvious to anyone who would have cared to look.
His body had signaled his own state of arousal. His erection stimulating both of us as we pressed closer into the other. "Let's go find a private spot".
We strolled the deck arm in arm, too preoccupied to notice the dark clouds and misting rain. There was no one else about except a few longshoremen along the wharf. We found ourselves next to the ship's rotating paddle wheel that churned the dark waters of the Mississippi River. The vessel had just passed beneath the bridge that connected the city to the west bank, and began its turn to head back to port.
It was there in the rain that it was decided that we were going to plan a week's escape together in the very near future. We had to reluctantly make our way back to join the other guests. He was my lover, my playmate, an unconditional friend and a caring patient mentor. I loved him passionately. I still do even though he died many years ago.
It was shortly after Andrew's death that I accompanied Nathan to a convention in San Francisco. We met Craig through one of Andrew's other lady friends. Andrew had told him many stories about me, so he was anxious to meet me. Over lunch at posh five star French restaurant, we reminisced, filling each other in about aspects of Andrew that the other knew nothing about. Andrew was a very complex man who kept his life compartmentalized. We concluded that this was his method of creating the mystique he so delighted in presenting to others.
Craig took my hand from across the table and covered it with his manicured hand. We sat in silence for a while grieving the loss of our dear friend.
It was during this lunch that Craig divulged that he and Andrew often shared stories of their erotic escapades as well as sometimes sharing the pleasures of a lady. He said Andrew had hinted that he might be willing to introduce him to me on my next visit to the coast.
Leaning close and in a soft whisper he smiled, "Andrew was right; you are quite a sensual creature. I am sorry that we will not ever have that erotic adventure."
Checking my watch I became aware of how much time had passed since Nathan had dropped me off on his way to the parking garage. Where was he? I wanted him next to me so that I could feel the warmth of him. As though by magic, he entered the bar, head down and his coat tails flying.
