Partners

Chapter One

The summer evening was hot and steamy. She was conscious of the cool fresh burst of air conditioning as she slowly walked up the stairs to the bar. It had been a long day and she was looking forward to relaxing with a drink and the piano. She made her way to one of the small tables and smiled a hello to Joe the bartender as she walked by. As she settled herself into the chair, he appeared to welcome her. He reached over to kiss her cheek and said he was glad to see her. This was such a comfortable place for her to be. The people were warm and friendly and she felt safe. “Thanks Joe. It’s good to be here, “ she said. “I think I’ll have a Stoli, straight up tonight, with some of those great blue cheese stuffed olives.”

“You’ve got it sweetheart,” he said with a smile and went off to fix her drink.

She surveyed the room. It was a good crowd for a weeknight. The wonderful music of the piano man filled the room and she slowly began to relax. It was a beautiful room; sophisticated and elegant; in the tradition of big city piano bars. The lights were low and each table was covered with a linen cloth and a single candle. Fresh flowers were the only thing missing. Joe appeared with her perfectly chilled drink and she could literally feel the tension of the day ease from her shoulders as she took the first sip. She turned her attention to the music. The piano player was a wonder; his fingers dancing over the keys. She couldn’t help but imagine a man’s hands playing her body with the same passion and perfection. His voice was alternately low and seductive and upbeat and jazzy. He shared the stage with a younger man with a more classically trained voice and together they filled the room with beautiful sounds. Their repertoire included most of the old standards that she loved, interspersed with Broadway show tunes. She loved to sing along; she knew most all the words. The songs were romantic and sensual and she delighted in both the sound and how she felt as she listened.

The only thing missing was a partner to dance with.

She loved to dance. Her father had taught her when she was only about 12 or 13 years old. She remembered after all these years the feel of him pulling her close. One arm tight around her waist, the other gently but firmly holding her hand. She remembered the words he had whispered as he has taught her to follow the lead of his body. “The man should hold you close and firmly,“ he had said. “You should be able to feel his body with yours and allow yourself to respond to its lead. His leg will often be between yours, helping to you respond to his movements even as he is making them. Dancing is like making love,” he had told her, “You’re just standing up.”

She remembered her father as a strong and passionate man. He had lived life to the fullest and was taken from her much too early. She was only 14 when he died and there was much he did not have an opportunity to teach her; much about the ways of men and women. She remembered his hearty laughter, his practical jokes, the warm kisses and monster hugs that they had always so eagerly shared. Even after all these years, she still could conjure up the feel of his cheek against hers and his arms holding her tight. She still missed him.

She was jolted back to reality with the realization that Pietro was standing before her. He smiled down; offered his hand, and said “Would you like to dance?”

Even as she reached to take his outstretched hand, she was rising from her chair. “Yes,” she said, smiling back at him.

Pietro was the owner of this restaurant and bar. He was an attractive bachelor who had just recently celebrated his 50th birthday. It was his lead that his employees followed in creating the friendly safe atmosphere. His motto, he had once told her, was “You’re never alone at Villa Verone.”

He led her to the dance floor and opened his arms to her. She stepped comfortably into his embrace as the music began. He pulled her close to him, one arm encircling her waist, the other gently, but firmly holding her hand. She noticed that he was tall; probably close to six feet. His hair was dark with lots of gray and his eyes were dark brown, rimmed with long dark lashes. He shoulders were broad and he was dressed much more formally than most of the men in this town. He wore real trousers, a dress shirt, but no tie and a handsome summer weight sport coat. Classy and elegant, just like the room.

She realized then that the piano man had taken a break and they were dancing to one of her favorite CDs. It was a Rod Stewart collection of all the old love songs from the war years. She knew all the words and found herself singing along. He pulled back slightly and smiled and then joined in. Together they the moved gracefully across the dance floor, singing to each other. He was a very good dancer. He held her close and she found it very easy to follow his lead. They danced together like they had been together for a lifetime. It was easy, comfortable and natural. He twirled her around, always bringing her firmly back against his body. One hand was firmly at the small of her back, pulling her body into contact with his; with his other hand he was more emotive. Sometimes he guided their coupled hands out from their bodies to balance their movements; sometimes he brought them close into his chest. Often he would reach down to gently kiss the back of her hand. Sometimes he gathered her very close by bending her arm gently behind her and using both his arms to pull her close to him.

One song segued into another and they continued to dance and sing. They were alone on the dance floor; lost in this magical moment. His mouth came forward and brushed her cheek. He nuzzled his face into her hair. He whispered into her ear, “You are incredibly beautiful and so very sensuous.” She remembered her father’s words and knew that there was more to this moment that simply the dance. She found herself responding to this man and knew that he was responding to her.

He seemed intent on drawing her closer and their bodies seemed to melt into each other. Her breasts pressed against his chest and she wondered if he could feel the hard little points of her nipples through the cotton dress. She could certainly feel the heat emanating from between his legs and sometimes, depending on how their bodies moved against each other, she was aware of the large, hard, bulge in his pants.

It was the most marvelous dancing that she had enjoyed in years. This man really knew how to dance and understood all that dancing could be between a man and a woman.

But even as she danced with him, her mind was elsewhere, to another man. Their dancing experience was very limited, but as a lover… “You have to stop this,” she said to herself. “He’s not here.” Practice staying in the moment.

It was difficult, but she tried.

Chapter Two

Pietro reluctantly led her back to her table. He was working and needed to attend to other customers and staff. He smiled and said, “I hope you can stay.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” she responded and settled back down to listen to the piano man as he returned from his break. Joe, the bartender soon appeared with a fresh drink.

“From Pietro,” he said. She looked for him across the room and he turned her way. Their eyes met for a moment and she raised her glass to acknowledge his gift. She smiled at him; he winked at her.

The music continued and the time passed. She sat alone, lost in the music and in the pleasurable sensations still lingering in her body from the dances that they had shared. It only served to remind her of the feelings that he had awaken in her. “What’s happening?,” she asked herself. “It’s not fair to any of us.”

She was aware of Pietro moving about the room, interacting with customers, handling his staff, generally aware of the mood of the room. He frequently looked her way and they exchanged a smile, but he was not able to return to her table. As the piano man and his partner prepared for their last song of the evening, he approached her again. “Another dance?” he asked.

“Of course,” she responded and moved comfortably into his arms. With the last song of the evening they were quiet and focused on each other and the physical sensations that dancing together brought. Even though they had never danced together before tonight, their bodies fit together like they were made for this. It felt so good to be in his arms; so good to feel the strength of his arm around her waist. As the song ended and he led her back to the table, he said, ”Can you stay a little longer?”

“Sure,” she replied, unsure of what this meant.

She sat down at the table and watched as he said good bye to the last customers and finished business with Joe the bartender. He finished closing down the restaurant for the night. As she watched him walk back to the table, she realized that they were alone in the dark and quiet restaurant. He joined her at the table with two cups of expresso. As they sat together and drank, she was very conscious of the feelings that dancing with him had woken.

She was a single mom and had not been with a man in many years. That is, until this new lover, the one continuing to intrude upon her thoughts. Her life had been filled with balancing the myriad roles of mother, daughter, worker, colleague, and friend. But she had been no one’s lover. She had slept alone. It was not her choice, but it was the reality of the moment and she had dealt with it. Until him.

He had come into her life like a tornado. He pursued her with intensity; dates and conversations. His mind was quick and bright and she had learned to love to share her thoughts with him. They found nothing off limits to talk about; from the events of their individual days to the news events; from the big picture questions about life and loving that had no answers, to the minutia of individual personalities. Everything was fair game. They were honest and direct with each other; there was an almost immediate comfort level between them. She respected him and trusted him.

But if their verbal intercourse was satisfying, the sexual intercourse they shared was beyond description. As lover he had no equal; he was kind, generous, passionate, playful, impulsive, strong, gentle; sensitive and made her pleasure so much a part of his own that she never left his bed without total satisfaction. But he did not share her bed as frequently as she wished and that continued to be difficult for her.

Turning her attention back to Pietro, she asked him about his life outside the restaurant. Soon they were engaged in an easy conversation, sharing their lives and their interests with each other. She learned he had been born in Italy and was in the seminary briefly. “What a waste, she thought to herself. “He’s much too handsome and sexy to be a priest.”

The time flew and she realized that it was late and she really should be going. They walked down the stairs together and as he set the alarm and turned off all the lights her reached out for her. This time there was no music, but their bodies locked together and immediately the passions flared. He kissed her deeply as his arms circled tight around her. She was surprised not only by the intensity of his kiss, but more so by her reaction. It felt good. She did like to be kissed and he was a good kisser. She wasn’t sure if she was feeling guilty. Was she betraying her commitment?

She knew that the dance had awakened feelings in each of them. She wasn’t quite sure of how to proceed. Although the idea of exploring these feeling further was very attractive, she knew that at this point in her life she wanted much more. She wanted to be in a loving, committed, relationship. The man just seemed to be in question.

She relaxed into his embrace, allowing herself to enjoy the moment. However, when he pulled back for a moment to look at her, she said, “Pietro, this is wonderful, but I really must go.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, clearly ready for more.

“Yes,” she said more firmly. And with that he backed away from her, clasped her hand and walked her out the door. They walked to her car in silence. Before she got in, she moved close to him again, for another kiss. She wondered if he realized how difficult it was for her to walk away from him. “Good night,” she whispered, “Thank you for a wonderful evening.”

“Be safe,” he said as he gently closed the door.

Chapter Three

The ride home was short. She was aware of the dampness between her legs. She let herself in to the dark house and walked up to her bedroom. She flicked the switch on the little italian white lights above her bed and turned on the same Rod Stewart CD. She undressed and then slid between the cool sheets. Her body was on fire. She had responded to him physically, all the while wanting some one else. Now she just wanted release. She reached to the side of her bed for the toys. She laid a vibrator next to her on the bed and gently began to touch her breasts. It was not a surprise to find the nipples already tight, firm little buds. She tweaked them between her thumb and forefinger; alternating the pressure just like she liked; first feather soft and then almost, but not quite hurting. She reached down and took one nipple in her mouth, like he had taught her, as her other hand continued to massage the other breast. Her hands moved down her body slowly, feeling the soft gentle roundness of her belly. She touched the smoothness of her completely shaved pubis. She liked the way it felt. She was comfortable in her own skin; acknowledging that she wasn’t 20 or even 30 any longer, but that she had grown to know and understand herself and her body. She knew what she liked and what she didn’t. She was not shy with a lover. She was confident within herself and that would not change for any man.

As her fingers began to touch her vagina, she realized that lubrication would not be needed tonight. Her own juices had begun flowing hours earlier and had not tired. She touched her clitoris and felt the tingle. She was already engorged and sensitive to her touch. She fingered herself lightly, moving up and down and in and about with a gentle circular motion. Her fingers moved across her labia, spreading the warm wet juices in and out of her vagina. Her hips began to arch and move in an ancient dance of desire. She reached out for the vibrator, and turned the base to begin the vibration. Very, very slowly; very, very gently, she massaged the tip of the vibrator against her clitoris. The sensations were incredible. Her breathing became heavy and irregular. She moved the vibrator around her vulva, alternately stroking her clit and beginning to probe the entrance to her vagina. As she neared climax, she thrust the vibrator deep into her vagina. With one hand firmly pressing the vibrator deep into her vagina and the other stimulating her clit, she lost herself in this moment of her pleasure. Over and over she thrust the vibrator; faster and faster her fingers danced. She slid over quickly on her tummy to better enhance the pressure against her pubis. She liked the feel of the firm bed against her breasts and pumped her hips against the vibrator as she held it in position between her legs. She rode it in and out, imagining that it was him instead of her toy. She lifted her hips off the vibrator and allowed its tip to slide forward against her clit; stimulating the female on top position that she found so incredibly conducive to orgasms. The juxtaposition of the long, hard shaft thrusting hard inside her vagina and the rapid stimulation of her clit always pushed her over the edge.

She felt her body beginning to shiver and shudder. From deep inside her, a wave of feeling rolled forth, through her tummy and from the depths of her vagina, out to the engorged and throbbing clit. She moaned, pressing her face into the pillows so as to stifle the sounds. Her body was racked with a final spasm and then she lay spent on the bed. Slowly she became aware again of her surroundings and rolled herself onto her back. Her vulva, especially the swollen clitoris was wet and still tingling.

She was aware that Rod was still singing. Listening to the words, she felt her eyes well up and a hot salty tear slide down her cheek. Her emotions were still raging; there was still so much pent up inside her straining to be released. The words of the song , “I can only give you love that lasts forever and a promise to be near each time you call…” She allowed the tears to flow unchecked. The release that she craved was more than just the incredible orgasm that she had just experienced.

The song ended, she turned off the lights and the CD. She wrapped her arms around her pillow aware of the empty side of the bed. She closed her eyes and whispered a silent prayer that someday soon, there would be a warm male body sharing her bed again; someone who believed in love that would last forever …