anniversary - 2
3:58 p.m.<>2001-12-27

______________

anniversary, part 2

i raise the cigarette to my lips. as i take a drag, i notice another scent there, on the fingers of my right hand, mingling with the acrid smell of the smoke. it's her scent, jodie's scent. more aromatic and enticing than the french food we had for dinner earlier in the evening. the odor is faint but distinct, undeniably hers. pungent and loamy, like something from a garden. her scent. her mark on me.

when we got back to the apartment after dinner, we didn't even bother to undress before tumbling onto the bed, kissing and groping. i heard a button pop on jodie's blouse when i reached for her breasts. her lips were all over my face, my neck, my fingertips. there was no subtlety by that point, no restraint. i nuzzled and licked her like a hungry wolf. she smiled and sighed and reached for me and made me groan.

soon neither of us could stand it any longer, and i lifted jodie's skirt up over her hips as she knelt on the bed. when i sank into her, we both cried out into the gloom. pale light from the street lamp outside washed across her arched back as i pushed up her rumpled blouse and laid a track of wet kisses along her spine. my left arm was wrapped across her torso for support, while my right hand drifted down, down, beneath our rolling bodies, deep into the folds of her skirt, deep into her slippery darkness, into the fragrance that rose from her body like heat...

back in the restaurant, jodie had turned heads as the hostess guided us to our seats. i know many guys who would feel jealous and defensive if strange men were to ogle their wives or girlfriends, but that has never really bothered me. instead i felt proud to be seen in the company of such a lovely woman. many of the men in the restaurant, it seemed, and a few of the women, followed us with their eyes as we made our way to the table. jodie and i could sense their gaze on her face and neck, and on the slit in her long, black skirt. we could sense their collective desire, and it inflamed us.

we behaved like teenagers throughout dinner. we sat too close and smiled too much and drank a lot of wine. we talked in whispers and fed each other from our forks. if i had been another diner, sitting at a nearby table, i would have rolled my eyes at the way we were carrying on. as it was, though, i was too entranced by my beloved's face and voice to pay much attention to propriety. every time she leaned forward i would catch a whiff of the jasmine oil she had dabbed on the back of her neck, and i would be compelled to give her a kiss. by the time the main course arrived, our legs were rubbing tantalizingly against each other under the table.

we were so brazen, in fact, that we didn't even get to order dessert. jodie had gotten up to go to the bathroom, and when she returned, she hurriedly pressed a wad of fabric into my hand. looking down, i realized with a thrill that i was holding a pair of black, high cut bikini briefs. i looked up in mild shock and met jodie's eyes, wide with mischief behind her chunky glasses. feel them, she told me in a low whisper. i ran my thumb across them and found them damp. then i raised my free hand and signalled for the waiter to bring us the check.

in the car, jodie waited until we were on the highway before she unbuttoned her blouse and raised her skirt. meanwhile, i concentrated furiously on the roadway in front of the car's hood. hearing a short gasp, i stole a glance to my right in time to see jodie plant her bare feet on the dashboard. her heavy breasts lolled from the sides of her open blouse, and her hand was busy beneath her skirt. unable to resist, i delicately drew my zipper down and guided her free hand to my lap.

some nagging, anxious voice in the back of my mind told me to stop, that jodie's spread legs and bare chest were exposed to any passing truck or bus. but that voice was too small and dim to stop me from reaching across the car and laying my hand on her forearm. beneath my fingers, i felt the moving tendons of the hand she was using to touch herself. a greyhound bus passed us, but i was past caring...

taking one last drag, i lean over and stub out the cigarette. in one darkened corner of the room lie our clothes in an indistinct, aromatic pile. jodie moves again in her sleep and presses her warm body against me. happy anniversary my love, i say silently to the gentle rise and fall of her chest.

______________

Know when I update: