Monday, November 28, 2005

Montreal: LR: Taking Two From Tam-Tams (Part 2)

Part 2 (posted: 8/1/05)

We say goodbye to HBnurse and I turn to HBgraphicartist and say that I have only half-an-hour before a commitment. OK. We walk a couple blocks and tease each other about getting tattoos. I tell her that should get a unicorn or a dolphin to be ultra cliché.

I said, “I know what you want” and I walk toward this sex shop. She says, “I’m not going in there.” I said, “I know, but don’t you want this bling-bling rhinestone bra?” as I pointed toward the mannequin in the window. I tell her that I want to see her in an elegant black evening gown and we’ll go out for martinis. She says she prefers champagne. The real shit from the mother land. “Cool, but you have to wear heels.”

She tells me about this pub with vines along the walls and we go there. Cool. We share one drink, as I remind her that I have somewhere to be. We sit together on a couch and I break into the heavy statements of intent.

The powerful SOIs and seductive talk:

I like you, you’ve captured my attention because you are unique and fantastic and empathetic and authentic. (Etc, etc). And I have a lot to teach and show a woman like you. But I want you to feel like you deserve a man like me and you believe in true romance. Too many women live romance vicariously (books, movies, soaps, etc) and never feel like they truly deserve or are capable of real-life romance. Do you want this? Do you deserve this?

Okay, because I am intense and passionate and I deliver experience that you will remember and cherish for the rest of your life. And I’m emotionally high maintenance…I expect back rubs and breakfast in bed and love notes in French.

She laughs. I have her massage my hand. I tell her I am going to ask her three questions and she has to get two out of three right to win. What’s the prize, she asks? Me, of course. She laughs…

The sensuality questions:

What’s a more sensual food? Strawberries, whip cream, or chocolate syrup? (The right answer is strawberries and I riff on the theme of having this plump fresh juicy strawberry and how sensual the act of feeding it to your lover would be.)

What’s more sensual…a hot steamy bath or a warm inviting shower? (The right answer is bath and I riff on themes of anticipation…waiting for the tub to fill…and having the steam travel up your body as you slowly insert that first toe, every molecule in your body filling with delight and pleasure.)

What is more sensual…soft tender kisses on your neck, or tiny light biting on your ear?
(This one is arbitrary, then I demonstrate each, saying…so you like this…better than…this?)

Anyway, she got them all wrong and I had to leave her.

Yeah right. When a girl gets them wrong I jut have her explain her point of view and then I seductively explain mine. HBgraphicartist is still all about the shower, and she says, “I’ll just have to show you.” (Did I mention it was ON?) We share our first proper French kiss after the bit about neck versus ear. Amazing kisser.

GS: “Well, it was nice connecting with you, but I really have to get going. Come hang out with me tomorrow evening.”
HB: “Um, actually I have a date tomorrow.”
GS: “That’s funny because I have a date too…right now.”
HB: (laughs)
GS: “But…I’ll cancel my date… if you agree to cancel yours. It looks like we’ve found something already.”
HB: (thinking) “…OK”

Fun exchange. Does she really have a date? Dunno. If so, is she really going to cancel? Dunno. All I know is I did indeed flake on the date that I genuinely had. And this girl is stunningly gorgeous. But so is the girl I am dealing with here. Wow. So I decide to pursue the woman at hand while her buying temperature is high. I’ll have to find a way to make it up to the other girl later.

Then I talk about how I love women, how I love nothing more than to please those that meet my criteria. How I happily put women on a pedestal, etc. Here is a gem:

“It’s kinda like this. You ever been to the Insectarium? Yeah? Cool, then you know what I’m talking about. You know how you get a little bit of cantaloupe or smashed banana on your finger and you can coax a butterfly onto your hand. Yeah. Fun, huh? So, you’ve got this beautiful creature, this amazing living thing right in front of you. (I hold my hand up to my eyes like I am looking at a butterfly.) And you just sit here and you look at it and it makes you smile. You don’t want to possess it, you don’t want to keep it, and you don’t want to hurt it. You just want to appreciate it and admire it for what it is. Just for being. Just for making you smile. And you realize that the whole time the butterfly has the ability to just…fly away. With me, it’s just like this with women. For as long as you choose to be with me, as long as you feel you deserve this, I will treat you to my attention and affection…absolutely adore you…and show you things that will make you feel extremely beautiful and appreciated as the amazing woman that you are.”

She says, “You’re very poetic.” I say, “Thanks. Maybe later I will share an actual poem with you, and then you can read me poetry in French. I’ll have no idea what you are saying, but you know I love the sound of your voice, especially when you speak French.” Predictably, she says something in French. I motion my eyes and my head to look as if I am melting. We laugh together and leave without even finishing the drink. I lead HBgraphicartist to the Metro and I pull out my map of the stations.

GS: “You won’t believe where I’m staying…all the way up here.”
HB: “Really. I’m right here. Same line.”
GS: “Cool. How many roommates do you have?”
HB: “None, I live alone.” (perfect…)
GS: “So, are you a good cook, you like cooking?”
HB: “Yes. I love to cook.”
GS: “Really…what’s your best dish?”
HB: “Um, I dunno…desserts, I like baking.”
GS: “Cool, well maybe I’ll cook and you can make dessert. You like spicy food, right? I can’t find anyone in Canada that likes spicy food. What’s in your fridge right now?”
HB: “Uh, nothing really.”
GS: “Sounds like you eat in Chinatown too much. Well, we’ll go to the store and start from scratch. It’ll be fun and a great chance to see how we work as a team.”

The end game:

We take the Metro to her stop. On the train ride I take the conversation away from sensuality and back to strengthening rapport. So I don’t get labeled as the guy with a one-track mind. I have her teaching me French and translating posters. Off the train, it’s a five minute walk to her pad. We hold hands and I keep the conversation on the surroundings. She tells me her apartment is messy and she wasn’t expecting company. Of course not. I greet her cat (already knew its name—tangent to the animal question.) I tell her to give me a tour.

Really fucking nice place. Spacious with great furniture and lots of stuff to look at. I admire her own paintings and drawings, which are really quite good. I browse her bookshelves. We share tastes in authors and artists and I let her know.

I’m exactly where I want to be. I’m with a gorgeous twenty-three year old woman who is smart, sensual, creative, and who seems to have her shit together career-wise. And it looks like this is all panning out off the first date. A date that I took her on with another woman! Good times.

Dinner never happened. I told her to put on her favorite movie (already knew what it was and that she owned it). I found some candles and we shared a single glass of red wine. We’re in the living room by candle light. We’ve both seen the movie and we start skipping ahead to watch her favorite scenes. Green light.

We kiss and make out on the couch. I kiss every area of her skin that is easily exposed. I give her some light massage. I tease her with my kisses and I playfully caress her. I stand up, extend my hands and pull her up. I grab one of the candles and I lead her to the bathroom. I turn on the shower (remembering her SOI to me). She says, “hold on,” and goes to get the other two candles.

What proceeded was the most passionate and intimate encounter of her life. It’s definitely the most sensual experience I’ve had on my trip. I probably spent half-an-hour just undressing her and kissing and caressing every part of her body. She undressed me just as slowly. I’m looking at her body and it’s absolutely flawless. Amazing. She has the prefect all-over tan and absolutely no scars or even birthmarks. She’s as fit as can be with super tight abs, her ass and breasts are supple yet firm, and I think she has probably the perfect hip-to-waste ratio. I’m just in awe at how impeccably gorgeous this woman is. I tell her that I think she is absolutely breathtaking and she melts in my arms and says “thank you.” I feel like we’re in a movie.

So I lead her into the shower and things get really hot. We give each other oral pleasure and it’s the most erotic thing by candle light with water cascading over our bodies. I’m eating her out and fingering her and she’s getting really worked up and she says, “Let’s take this somewhere else.” She turns the water off, hops out, throws me a towel and gets one for herself. She starts drying herself off.

I know there’s absolutely no reason to rush this. I take my towel and slowly and sensual dry her off instead of drying myself. I gaze into her eyes and gently kiss her all over. She returns the favor. I’m about to tie the towel around my waist and pick her up and carry her into the bedroom. She says, “Let’s do this” and she wraps a single towel tightly around both our waists and we shuffle and laugh our way into the bedroom. I run back for the candles.

I treat her to probably another hour’s worth of foreplay. Always building and increasing and intensifying the anticipation of how I will please her next. By the time I penetrated her, we had only been together about four-and-a-half hours, total, and there was absolutely no “last minute” or token resistance. The whole night was beautiful and magical. After we made love, we showered again (actually “cleaning” each other sensually), dried each other again, came to bed and fell asleep in each other’s arms.

In the morning, I kissed and caressed her, made the bed, and left her a cute note that she never saw me write. She’ll find it later and smile. Also sent her a positive email once I got a chance. The email is a compliment to her openness and passion. She sent this brief note in response:

“Remember, my cube is a mirror... My passion was a reflection of yours.”

Bon moment. Aime la vie. GoneSavage