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What would be the point of calling form Phoenix in the last part of August, well over a thousand miles away? 'No, I will call her first thing when back in the city,' he said to himself. The tour was only two weeks from its final performance in San Diego. Then, back to New York to begin the real work of the fall and winter season.The orchestra returned in early September and he fell back into the cycle of a lifestyle he adored. There was music all about him. He asked one of the young violinists to accompany him to the Metropolitan presentation of Aida. She was a slender woman with coal-black hair who had come to Julliard on a scholarship after winning the Eldorado Prize in Sao Paulo, Brazil. She was smart, happy in her life and she always made him smile when they met. 'Her body was small compared to his. It was her face that had captured his attention initially, high, round cheeks set upon a genetic profile that manifested her indigenous family origins. Her skin was smooth. I won’t tell as long as you stay away from my stuff. Don’t be such a pervert. AND YOU OWE ME!” She slammed the bathroom door. I stood there defeated. I was relieved she wasn’t going to say anything to our folks. Later that day I tried to talk to her but she told me to fuck off. She did the laundry, including mine. I went to the park to clear my head. I was still nervous when I got home but only Moms car was there and I reasoned that if she told on me, Dad would be there too.The following week went by very slowly. Dad ended up being needed out of state and left us on Thursday that week. Friday night I was supposed to have a date with a girl from school but she bailed on me. My friends from school had gone down to the lake for a long weekend so I was left home with the female side of my family. Mom had a second glass of wine with dinner and we knew that meant she’d be in bed by 8. After dinner my mom asked Em to do the dishes. As soon as she left the room Em looked at me.“Do the.
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He has agreed. But that is all they know of one another.There are rules. They both know the rules. But that is all they know of one another. He is hands. Hands and soft whispers.She is flesh. Flesh that becomes sensation beneath his hands.All she is now, is sensation.Beneath his hands, sensation exists to become pleasure.And she transforms beneath his hands. And what of his pleasure? It also comes through his hands. He needs to touch.He hands are the conduit, and in this room, his hands create pleasure for them both. It flows from his hands into her flesh and back into him. There are no words. Excepting what is absolutely necessary. A gentle instruction. A simple response. Each word existing to enhance the work of his hands. Her eyes are closed. She does not see, so that she can fall more completely into his touch.His eyes are open. He sees, so that he can make the most of his touches. He looks. He sees.He adjusts his touch as his experience and her body show him the way. She is.

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