Dinner Party

Night time at our home. Having a get together for some friends. Busy night planned, party with hors d’oeuvres, dinner being catered. She looks magnificent. Silver earrings. Black dress. Otherworldly smile. A bit shy tonight and I don’t understand why at first.  quietly looking over at me from the kitchen where she is speaking with wives of some of my friends; though I don’t know who. Her smile loving, As she lowers her brow. She wants me. Badly. She is smiling and nodding in the conversations, but her thoughts are filled with me. Wanting me. Every part of me. Mind. Body. Spirit. I’m free of fear. Pain. Anger. We both are.

The house is amazing. 2-3 stories. Marble floors. Not a mansion, but many rooms, two wings… plenty of space. Pleasing environment. Plants scattered here and there, but the sunroom is a garden unto itself. The living room is a ballroom tonight, and the catering has used the kitchen well and cleaned up spotlessly. Light colors for the walls. Stucco? Not beige… the non-boring kind of beige. Like a nice elegant house like one would picture in San Diego or Miami.

The guests have fun. Ambient music in background, reflecting calming music the real world had playing as I slept. The crowd enjoyed themselves, and eventually began to file out. As each slowly left, she got closer. Her smile got more narrow. Her eyes betrayed her desire until she deliberately projected it. I loved every second. She wanted me. She loved me. She needed me.

Yet then, just as the last of our friends left, we hear some voices from another living room, this one in the center of the house. Several elegantly dressed people. Older. Wealthy. Important people. Leaders in industry. Maybe a legislator. All with smiles, laughing, having a good time. The party was actually for them. And they came to visit us. Celebrate something we did. I think me, but “me” is “us”. I’m nothing without her, and vice versa.

We had invited our friends over to join us. Meet some of the important folks. Maybe do some networking, who knows. She has forgotten about the “important” guests, and I could see her glaring at them. She was thankful they were there. She liked them. She knew how important they were. How much they meant to us and our future. But her breathing had intensified. Eyes narrowed. She wanted them gone, now. She could barely contain herself. She wanted me. She backed away and moved into the background to “give me a hint” as if by now I didn’t feel the same.

But with it she had piqued my mischievous side. I smiled at her lovingly and approached the guests, and joined in the conversation. Pretending I didn’t know what she wanted. Making her wait. 😂

She fumed… not out of anger; but of hunger. For me. She knew what I was up to; she knew everything about me. She saw my mischievous smile and the sentence she would subject me to simply got longer.

She eventually retired for the evening; thanking everyone for coming. Her face was red and her eyes piercing. She spoke on the opposite side of the room so as to not lunge for me right then and there. Less than a minute passed before I smiled at the guests and told them to make themselves at home. I didn’t care anymore. Not with what awaited me. I stepped off into the hallway and went down into the opposite wing of the house into one of the guest rooms. Not our bedroom, because I know where she really went. Closed every door between the ballroom and her arms. Stepped into the furthest corner bedroom with the dim lights and closed the door.

Us. As if caps were pulled off of fire hoses. The most important people in the state… Forgotten about. I didn’t care. I couldn’t. And hell with anyone who could. She wanted me. She loved me. She needed me. That’s all that would ever matter. The music was with us now. The night was ours. The whole world was too.

It was wonderful.