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Cutting a dash (2)

Love hurries the morrow by urging the night

 

The steam, the body lotion, the shower gel, the

Shampoo, the time spent together in the shower

The heat of the room, the shaving foam, the rustle

Of cellophane, the scent of new stockings, the

Aftershave, the perfume, the non-existent lingerie

The giddy flesh, the tempting lips and then for the

Lady, the artful preparation of slipping Into

Nothing at all

 

Of such stuff dreams are made and men brought

To their knees. Castles are built and fortunes made

For nothing on earth drives a man to success like

Love, especially tasting the flesh of the apple fresh

From the tree, fresh from the shower. Lovers flirting

Between rooms in delicious measures of deshabille

 

White shirt, black pants, gold watch, gold cuff

Links... Perfumed stocking, perfumed cleavage

Perfumed…And the night begins

 

The lady knows how good she looks her mirror

Tells he so every day but more than that her

Body tells her so too. It is not by accident that

Naked or clothed she can turn heads and turn

Men to putty. She is woman from head to toe

And so too her collection of wardrobes cutting

A dash with every swish of every hanger. Open

Any door to find dresses to take a man's breath

Away. Dresses to dazzle, dresses to flash and

Dresses to arouse those two devious spirits of

Cupidity – lust and avarice. Well, a figure of

Such stunning deportment deserves an admiring

Eye whatever the impulse

 

It is said that new love will push old love out

Of the way, but that is not strictly true, especially

In the case of a casual fling; when nothing is lost

And nothing is gained save perhaps for a few hours

Of fleeting pleasure. Not to everyone's taste naturally

But it happens and all the pietism in the world will

Not alter human nature and thus such encounters

Are entered into and exited with eyes wide open in

The knowledge they may be brushed under the carpet

Papered over and forgotten and loss, if loss there

Was, no more than a hapless packet of seeds

 

They loved each other with a passion and both

Lived life to the full and when apart life

Fulfilled their every need. Back home, a whiff

Of unfamiliar cologne or perfume drew a quizzical

Eye but only as a stimulant to an enthusiastic 'little

Something' later spent in a sensual atmosphere of

Heated exuberance. Infidelity? Not all bad news

Then

 

Cutting a dash, effortless style and the trappings of

Wealth – formidable instruments of gluttony and

Temptation. When enough is never enough and the

Night is young. So young in fact that a tux or a

Dazzling dress out on their own may in the heat of

The moment cultivate a longing for contact, someone

To hold, someone to touch, someone to…

 

The Roller braked, the chauffeur alighted and the

Lounge rose en masse craning their necks in an effort

To see who of such opulence was to presently grace

Their company. Not hard to find company when your

Ghost was seen arriving and your driver loading

The lift. Watched from the foyer to the room, from

The room to the bar and from the bar to the restaurant

Money dining alone, back at the bar alone…

 

Money, the root of all evil and also the means by which

Heaps of evil may be procured should that be to your

Wish or whim. 'Whim,' what a lovely word,'I did it on

A whim,' a perfunctory action, no fault of your own

Then? Soft lights, music and suitors galore. A backless

Dress and the back of a daring hand, daring to make

It's presence felt whilst in the other a forgiving cocktail

A carefully prepared 'Sweet Heat' purchased on the

Recommendation of the sommelier

 

Where was her husband, what did he do? Casual idle

Curiosity, nimbly dealt with and side-stepped with

Heaps of feminine flair. A predator flair careful not

To drive away what could easily be the catch of the

Night. Smart, handsome, well educated, no rough

Edges, hands superbly manicured and ready to please

Nothing too hasty, too soon, but definitely potential

For later

 

Later came around sooner than expected. The more she

Looked at him the more she wanted him. Here was a

Man money couldn't possibly buy and securing his

Attention a test, or so she thought, of every skill in her

Book. Was it cleavage, legs, eyes? What was his weakness

And how to appeal to it without appearing obvious or

Worse still desperate?

 

There are things money can buy and things far beyond

The crudity of cash and this was one of those occasions

What he didn't know was how she felt about him, all

He knew was how he felt about her and being a man of

Means he knew his wealth was of no consequence

To a woman who already had it all and thus money

Was never going to spring the locks on her lingerie

Tonight. So, how to impress? Was it to be formal or

casual?

 

Like the title of a poem 'Love finds a way' indeed love

Does, love in a lift to be precise, love in an elevator on a

Journey to fresh heights of escapism, risk and unashamed

Selfishness… but, I'm getting ahead of myself

 

He was already in the lift when she joined him, both

Urgently en route for their rooms and their wardrobes

He found her absolutely stunning in a way that entered

And left his body through every follicle of every hair

That presently tingled with anticipation. For her part

Too many mirrors, nowhere to look but the floor. So close

She could feel his body heat, hear him breathing. It was

Then a daring hand again reached out touching her

Wanting her. She turned, their eyes met and taking a

Key from his pocket he disabled the elevator which came

To a silent but abrupt halt pushing the two occupants

Together. No need for words now, words would spoil

Everything. It was his lift, his hotel and his duty to

Afford every guest his best attention at all times...


© Joseph G Dawson
10/01/2018 – 12/07/2017

 





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