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Stockbridge Romance [Chapter Four: Love Making and Breakfast]

 

"Something tell me Christopher, we're going to enjoy Beijing," said Sandy once we got into her apartment.

"I hope so," I answered.

We both spoke cheerfully for an hour or so on the bed, sitting on the beds edge, just sitting, and without being obvious, and without direction, next I laid down thinking I might make love to her but fell to sleep, and when I woke up, she was naked beside me""Mover over here," she said to me, I had a big hard-on, and her long thin body excited me, stimulated me just looking at it, avidity of winning a grand prize, "You stay here for the rest of the night," she said, "I want you to," and I entered her the second time like a bull. I figured if my heart was going to bust out of its chamber, so be it, it was worth it; and my chest pounded, poured over her. We had some laughter to go along with the lovemaking. I was fearful the neighbors could hear her moaning, her salvo of amusement coupled with the bed making all its own noise.

As my hands went over her body, like glass, it somehow seemed important to me, formality on this bed that we became modestly possessed with one anther. Perhaps superfluous, but we both seemed to want to show the other person a marvelous picture of ourselves for the stay in Beijing, which we had six days to do, actually two were gone, and this morning, this new morning was our third to be.

In the morning I was shabby-eyed, and she pretty as a young dove. Dishearteningly, we had to get dressed and meet the tour group after breakfast out in the parking lot by the buses, there were two buses; today we were going to go to the "Princess Palace. A palace made out of marble on the river front, so they told me.

As we sat down for Breakfast, which was a feast in itself, with an assortment of food, unequaled in any tour I had previously taken, thus, we stood in line, and made our selections, and she, Sandy was quite comfortable with me, and I with her, in the meantime we told each other we'd have to shift buses, one of us, because she was assigned to the opposite one I was, and that was taken care of in a flash once we told the tour guides. Evidently feeling the subject had been changed, she looked at all the others in the breakfast hall, and there were one hundred and twenty five of us.

"When we're done with this trip, come up to Stockbridge to see me, I have an apartment there, perhaps after Christmas (which was in about three weeks)." It seemed more like a statement than a question but I confirmed I would, but I was nervous enough, and didn't want to disagree with Sandy, I mean, if it happened good, if not well, no harm done. I drew a long breath, flung my light coat over my shoulder and we shifted out toward the cool morning air by the buses. I looked at Sandy inquiringly. How much of me could she see with that little side view she gets of: people, things, and places? She had to seize the opportunity of people and such things if she wanted to see quickly, or miss them totally, or become exhausted trying, so I thought, or figured; the buses where now in sight outside the doors and two lines were being formed to get on them.

Author: Dennis Siluk
 
Author Bio:

Dennis Siluk

Writing is more than a hobby for me. It's a passion, one of the ways I capture and celebrate life.

This article can be searched using: digital storytelling, online story reading, digital story telling, the art of storytelling
 
 
 

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