Читать книгу Enchanted Dreams: Erotic Tales Of The Supernatural - Nancy Madore - Страница 6

Everything was going wrong and now, on top of everything else, she was late. Maryanne skittered over the wet cobblestones, rushing to get to the restaurant. She would be a mess by the time she arrived. But she’d had to drive four blocks away just to find parking!

Why was she even bothering? She tried to silence the pessimistic voice in her head but it would not relent. It reminded her that she had no reason to expect this guy to be different from any of the others. There was nothing special or noteworthy about him that made it worth the effort. Even by online-dating standards he had offered little intrigue, and with all the embellishing that takes place in preparing one’s online profile, that was rather dismaying. She tried to recall what prompted her to go out with him, and then she remembered that he had caught her in a weak moment when, feeling unsettled and lonely, she suddenly longed for a normal life with an average guy. So here she was, on a Friday night, rushing around to meet this average or—more likely—less-than-average guy.

She took a deep breath and tried once again to assume a positive outlook. At least she was getting out of the house. It could be interesting. She might as well try to have a good time. There didn’t have to be any entanglements. She couldn’t hide forever.

And perhaps this one would work out differently. But she couldn’t count on that and she knew it.

She dashed through the restaurant doors and found him waiting for her. Just as the little voice in her head had predicted, he looked nothing like his picture and yet she recognized him instantly. Something in his present look was more like what she would have expected anyway. Within their casual online correspondence, she had detected an inherent gentleness, a kind of considerateness in his demeanor that had initially captured and ultimately held her interest. While these qualities had not been evident in his picture, she recognized them in his face, and her reluctance eased up the tiniest bit. “I’m sorry I’m late,” she murmured.

Dan stood up from the bench where he had been waiting and smiled warmly at Maryanne. Clearly he had embellished his height in his online profile, as well. She resented this; she could have at least worn lower heels to minimize the difference had she known. She tried to hide her annoyance. Yet he did not seem to mind so much; she noticed that his eyes were looking over her slender form with approval.

“Maryanne? You’re so much more beautiful than your picture!” he said earnestly. Then he blushed slightly, as if embarrassed by this outburst. She had the impression that his comments, at least, were spontaneous and genuine. “Don’t worry about being late,” he said good-naturedly. “I figured you were having a tough time finding parking. I did get us a table, though.”

He led her to their table and pulled out her chair for her. “Wow,” he remarked as he sat down across from her, “those are some guns you’re packing there!”

Maryanne drew back, startled, and Dan quickly gestured to her arms, once again embarrassed. “I mean, you must work out,” he clarified.

“Oh…yes!” she said with a laugh, feeling the tension leave her. “I practice yoga,” she explained.

“Yoga’s quite the workout,” he surprised her by saying. “I tried it myself a few times, but I found it difficult to hold many of the poses. I get distracted too easily. Let’s see, what was that one? You stand sort of crouched with your hands high up in front like the bug…the locust, was it?” He put his hands up in front of him in an exaggerated simulation of the pose.

“The praying mantis,” she corrected, laughing.

“Yeah,” he agreed amiably. “That’s it. Nearly snapped my hamstrings trying to do that one.”

Maryanne tried to imagine this stocky, seemingly unsophisticated guy attempting yoga and suddenly burst into loud laughter at the thought of it. But when she recovered, she changed her tune, eyeing him sideways and saying, “Actually, you look like you could handle it.” And it was true. Although he was a burly man, she could see at a glance that he was all muscle.

“Well, I might have exaggerated,” he conceded. “I actually only strained them a little.”

“That seems a bit more plausible…” she teased, surprised to find that she was flirting with him. The realization made her suddenly shy, and she tilted her head slightly downward in a reserved gesture she was in the habit of assuming to conceal her face. She could feel her cheeks growing warm and knew she was blushing. If Dan noticed her discomfort, he was considerate enough to pretend that he did not.

“I’m built mostly for hard work,” he continued with a matter-of-fact shrug. “Like an ox. That’s how I manage to keep in some kind of shape. But you look like you live at the gym.”

“Not really,” she said, tilting her head a little bit more. But she was pleased.

“I’m sorry,” he told her. “I’m gushing here. I’m really not obsessed with appearances. It’s just that you’re so toned and in amazing shape. I have to admit I find that attractive. Even your cheekbones. Wow!” He gestured around her face without touching her. “It’s like they’re chiseled out of marble or something.” It was an earnest compliment, and it wasn’t the first time Maryanne had heard it. But whenever anyone mentioned her amazing bone structure, all she could think of was the way the boys in grade school used to tease her, calling her “alien” because of the way her large eyes and high cheekbones dominated her face. If only she could get those children’s cruel voices out of her head.

Dan casually reached over and brushed aside the loose hair that had fallen down over her face. From anyone else, this would have been too forward a gesture for Maryanne, but Dan did it with such simple aplomb that she hardly noticed that he had done anything at all.

“So what are you hungry for?” he asked, turning his attention to his menu.

“I don’t know,” she said disinterestedly. She picked up her menu, trying to think of something clever to say.

“I chose this restaurant because their food is exceptional. You mentioned in your profile that you were a finicky eater.”

“I did?” she asked.

“I think you did,” he replied, considering. “I’m not sure exactly what you said. Something gave me that impression.”

Maryanne wondered what it was. He certainly was intuitive. She realized that she felt considerably more relaxed with him than she usually was on first dates—particularly blind dates—but even so, she had the urge to rock gently back and forth in her chair, another nervous habit she had picked up. Most people didn’t mind it once they got to know her, but she knew it would be disconcerting for a man to see her do it on a first date. Yet with Dan, she wondered. He seemed to be the sort of man who would make a person feel comfortable no matter how odd his or her behavior.

“Well, anyway,” he continued, “the food here is first-rate. The chef grows a lot of the vegetables in his own organic garden nearby. You can really taste the freshness. I figured you were probably into health food.”

“Well, sort of,” she said noncommittally.

Maryanne ordered a salad and Dan ordered a steak. But she showed no interest in her food when it arrived. Having consumed her second drink by then, she was finally loosening up.

“So have you ever been married?” Dan asked. Maryanne had been wondering when the conversation would come around to that. People were so obsessed with past relationships. She disliked talking about them. Besides, whoever told the truth when it came to that? Had a man on a date ever said, for example, “Yeah, I just couldn’t seem to stop sleeping with other women”? Or would a woman ever admit, “Everything he did just made me want to bite his head off ”?

“No,” she said without elaborating.

“Did you never want to?” he persisted.

Maryanne felt she was treading in dangerous territory. Yet the drinks had loosened her up considerably so it didn’t seem to matter so much.

“Yes,” she replied honestly. “I’ll admit I have thought about it a time or two. But…”

Dan waited a long moment before responding. When he did, Maryanne was surprised that he was still waiting for her to finish her thought. “But…what?” he prompted. She looked at him, impressed. Most of the men she encountered had the attention span of a fly.

“It’s hard to explain,” she began. “I’ve never really put my thoughts about marriage into words before.” She thought about it for another minute. He was looking at her with keen interest, as if he really wanted to hear what she thought about it. His seeming interest encouraged her. “I believe marriage is impossible,” she said. Then she shook her head vigorously, causing her hair to shift back and forth over her face. “No, not impossible. That’s ridiculous. People get married every day. What I mean is, it’s hopeless…and destructive and doomed to fail.”

He seemed genuinely taken aback by her comment, although there was a little smile playing about his lips upon hearing it. He appeared to find her vehement passion over the matter charming. She was surprised, too. She had never admitted her true feelings about it to anyone before. “Hopeless and destructive and doomed to fail?” he repeated, following it with a low whistle. “I could maybe see hopeless and destructive, or destructive and doomed to fail, but all three together…” He shook his head as if to say she’d gone too far. She could see that he was trying to make her laugh—and perhaps he wanted to minimize the severity of what she’d just said in the process—but now that she had confided in him she felt like explaining what she meant.

“It’s hopeless and doomed to fail because it can’t possibly succeed, and I think it’s destructive to the people who have to learn that the hard way. The truth is that marriages don’t succeed, not in the truest sense of the word. People stay married sometimes, it’s true, but is it really what they thought it would be when they walked down the aisle together?” She said this without the slightest bitterness, which only seemed to give credence to her words.

Dan put down his fork (she had not yet picked hers up), giving Maryanne all of his attention. Both were now fully intrigued and absorbed by the topic. “But how could you possibly know this if you’ve never been married yourself ?”

“I don’t have to go through something myself if I am able to learn from watching others,” she replied. “Have you been married?” she asked suddenly.

“Yes,” he admitted.

“Well…”

“Yes, but even having failed, I still believe in the institution of marriage. And I liked being married, for the most part.”

“For the most part?” she said.

“There were moments…” He paused, at a loss for words to explain.

“Of disenchantment?” she asked with a smile. “A slow, ongoing letting go of expectations, like gradually sliding down a not-so-steep hill?”

Dan looked at her with curiosity. “So, if not marriage, what then? Living together? Dating?”

She was feeling strangely reckless. And Dan was somehow drawing her out in a way that other men were not usually able to do. Something in his demeanor put her at ease. “To be perfectly honest, I don’t think it’s possible for a man and a woman to stay together for any significant amount of time. Relationships seem to have a shelflife.”

He jerked back in surprise. “Isn’t that supposed to be the guy’s position?”

She laughed. She wondered what he was thinking about the things she was saying and was surprised to discover that she cared. In fact, she wanted to make him understand. She thought for a moment of how to illustrate her point.

“See that couple over there?” she began, exclaiming immediately afterwards, “Don’t make it so obvious!”

Dan nodded conspiratorially and tossed his napkin on the floor with an exaggerated flourish. Maryanne struggled to contain her laughter as Dan made a show of casually bending over to pick up his dropped napkin while surreptitiously stealing a glance in the direction she had indicated. The straightforward, uncomplicated person that he was made the scene all the more comical.

“The woman who looks like she’s been sucking on a sour ball?” he whispered after a long and lengthy ordeal just to get a glimpse.

Maryanne giggled. “That’s her,” she confirmed. She leaned in and lowered her voice, growing more serious. “Her husband has been staring openly at me all night.”

Dan looked momentarily confused. “Well, you’re a beautiful woman,” he said in a matter-of-fact manner, as if to add, “What do you expect?”

“Right in front of her!” she added more adamantly.

Dan drew back and paused, but there was a light coming on in his eyes. “Oh, yeah, women hate that.”

“Women hate that,” she echoed, “because it’s destructive. It causes them to deteriorate inside. Don’t look at me like I’m being overly dramatic. And I realize that it’s in a man’s nature to constantly observe women. They can’t help it, as they’re so quick to point out, but that’s exactly what I’m saying. That’s why it’s impossible for relationships to work.”

“But it seems like a rather small thing, considering…”

“Well, of course, I’m not just talking about looking here. What I’m referring to is that interest, that overabundance of attentiveness and courtesy that men show to the women they have not yet been intimate with. In and of itself, even that might be tolerable if not for the utter lack of interest they show to the women they have been intimate with!”

“Do you really think it’s as bad as that?”

“It’s often worse.”

“Well, if women know this about men, and it’s the way men are, as you say, can’t the women work around it?”

“They can and do work around it,” Maryanne replied. She was completely relaxed now and spoke conversationally, explaining her philosophies without the slightest rancor. Her eyes were wide, and she even felt a bit excited. “But that doesn’t mean they’re not deteriorating while they’re doing it.”

“Forgive me if I seem a little callous here, but aren’t you blowing this a little out of proportion? Most of the guys I know would never do any more than look.”

“Whether or not he acts on his interest in other women is irrelevant.” Maryanne was pleased that Dan wasn’t simply patronizing her, or, worse yet, trying to steer her away from what some men might consider an uncomfortable topic. He was taking her seriously enough to disagree with her, and she appreciated that. “Because the damage will already be done. See, women also have instincts that appear to favor more short-term relationships.”

“Okay, now you definitely have my attention.”

“A woman’s most fundamental need, at her core—and I’m not talking about human survival here but female survival, something she needs to keep her femaleness alive—is to be desirable.” She paused for effect, noticing that he was hanging on her every word. She let this first idea sink in before completing her thought. “Almost every single natural behavior of a man—after he’s had sex with a woman—is designed to diminish her belief that she is desirable. I think it is an unconscious effort to ultimately destroy her desirability to other men.”

Dan sucked in his breath. “Wow!” He turned discreetly to look at the woman she had singled out before, this time observing her more carefully. Maryanne casually observed the woman as well. The couple had clearly been together a long time; the wife was even beginning to resemble the husband. She had little, if any, visible signs of femininity or sexuality left. There was a sadness behind her eyes that somehow softened the bitter twist of her lips. She was staring past her husband indifferently. Dan had caught the husband ogling Maryanne when he suddenly turned, and the man looked guiltily away. Dan turned back to Maryanne, his expression tragic. She smiled.

“You see?” she asked, knowing that he did.

“You make an interesting point,” he conceded. “But I’m not ready to accept defeat just yet. Let me think about it a minute.” He picked up his fork and knife and cut off a bit of steak. Maryanne watched him as he chewed on it thoughtfully. She couldn’t help chuckling as she watched him, a bit too gleefully for the occasion perhaps, but she was so delighted to be able to have this kind of open discussion with a man. She had always known that her observations were different from those of other people, men and women alike; hers were much more cynical and pessimistic. She couldn’t help seeing things for what they were, but she had learned to keep most of these observations to herself. She tried her best to acquiesce to the accepted viewpoint, seemingly agreeing with all that was politically correct in an effort to fit in with those around her. At times she felt like a chameleon, always changing her own brilliant colors to mimic the much less appealing ones of those around her. There were times when she even doubted herself, wondering if she really was viewing things correctly after all, but her efforts to change only gave more credence to her original viewpoint and she was obliged, however reluctantly, to keep it. So now, to actually share that viewpoint with another person—a man, no less—and actually have it cause him to stop and think was terribly exciting for her. Dan, for all of his optimistic thinking—she had spotted that in him immedi-ately—was not one to ignore a strong argument that had merit. She waited eagerly to see what he would do with the ideas she had shared with him, sipping on her drink in the interim.

Dan swallowed his steak and looked at her. Just as Maryanne expected, he was cleverly going to place the ball back in her court by pointing out some similar inconsistencies in women. “You know,” he began tentatively and thoughtfully, clearly enjoying the conversation as well, “there are plenty of women out there who lose interest in men, too, after they’ve had their way with them…playing all kinds of cruel games and generally screwing with their heads.”

But Maryanne had already thought of this. “If you think about it for a minute,” she countered, “you will realize that that actually proves my original point. A woman who plays head games with a guy usually isn’t all that interested in him to begin with. She either wants something from him or she’s giving in to his persistent advances for some other reason. She doesn’t have any genuine feelings for him. And this is the point—a woman’s disinterest is the only thing that can hold a man’s interest. He’s still interested in her because he really hasn’t had her yet. She allows him to hang on because it satisfies her need to feel desirable, but since she doesn’t really love him, she’ll just keep using and abusing him. And for as long as she doesn’t care about him, she will keep his full attention. But if she falls in love with him, what happened to that woman over there will eventually happen to her. Even if a man tries to fight this instinct, his soul will be crying out for someone new. He might not have the guts to act on it, like you said—but instinctually he will become more aware and interested in almost every other woman, and she will know.”

Dan was shaking his head, but his mouth was full of food so she continued. “Just think about it. It’s true.”

He forced his food down with a gulp. “So if you really believe this, you go out with a guy, what? Once? Twice? How long before it starts to go to shit?”

“I don’t know,” she replied thoughtfully. “I haven’t figured that out yet.” She dipped her head, suddenly shy, and tapped her long, glossy fingernails together in front of her nervously.

Dan gave her a funny look, but he was smiling. “Come on,” he teased. “You must have an idea. How many dates does it take to get to the jerk inside the man?” he asked with the same rhythm and inflection as the cartoon owl who asked, “How many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Roll lollipop?”

Maryanne laughed. “Remarkably few, if I were to guess.”

“So how am I doing?” he asked. “Will I even make it through the night?” Maryanne looked at him in surprise, and he cleared his throat. “I’m sorry…I didn’t mean that like it sounded. Jeez!” He shook his head. “We are jerks!” But his eyes still sparkled with humor.

“I don’t think of men as jerks,” Maryanne told him. “I just think that relationships between men and women have a short life. Does it have to be somebody’s fault? Women are just as responsible.”

She once again had his full attention. “Go on,” he said, narrowing his eyes dubiously.

“I’m a realist.” She shrugged. “But most women aren’t. They stubbornly deny what is happening and ignore their inner voice that is crying out for attention—attention that can only be found in a new relationship. Now both of them are ignoring her and she really starts to deteriorate. Perhaps women are too sensitive. Perhaps our feminine egos are too fragile. But there it is. Many women just go with it, like that woman over there seems to have done. But you can see by looking at her that something is missing, right? You can see that the life has gone out of her? Probably she’s moderately healthy otherwise, and lives a fairly normal life. But her femininity and passion are utterly gone.”

Dan snuck another glance at the woman and seemed dismayed to find her husband eyeing Maryanne yet again. “Why doesn’t she leave that bastard?” he asked, perturbed.

Maryanne laughed. “When she married him, it had probably already started. That’s why women are so hot on marriage. They think it will bring his interest back. When it doesn’t, I’m sure these women are devastated at first. That’s why Cosmo sells so many magazines with nine hundred different ways to get his attention. But, by then, who knows? Maybe there were kids on the way, or perhaps she depended on him financially. And if you push a part of yourself aside for long enough, it will eventually die.” She looked at him. “You see, he couldn’t help that her loving him took all the intrigue away, and she couldn’t help that having no power to intrigue made her unappealing. Both were simply responding to what was.”

“And you still date, believing this?”

She laughed. “Like most women, I am a hopeless romantic.”

“Do you believe in love?”

“I do! That’s just it. But I think that sometimes love means letting go.”

Dan sat there for moment, thinking. “You know,” he said, “what I’d like to do is prove you wrong. I really would. But in order to do that, I’m assuming I’d have to come up with some evidence. Maybe find some shmuck out there who’s actually still enamored by the woman in his life. That’s really what we’re talking about here, right? She wants to feel special. She wants him to treat her like she’s special, even though the instinct inside him is saying, ’Been there, done that, losing interest,’ right?” He waited for her to nod her head. “I think there are men out there like that. Men who are more interested in the woman they’re with than any other women.”

“Well!” said Maryanne, impressed. She couldn’t help finding his optimistic, I-would-like-to-fix-this attitude extremely attractive. “You thinking it and it being true are different things,” she reminded him.

“Okay, but, come on now,” he said in an extremely reasonable, almost reproving tone of voice. “Your thinking that you’re right doesn’t necessarily make it true, either.”

And in that moment Maryanne knew that she was hooked. What she was going to do about it, she hadn’t yet decided. But what she had discovered in him so far—his intelligence, his open-mindedness and now, his strength of character—made him suddenly seem irresistible. She knew that her instincts had already singled him out. And in that instant, in that sudden moment of realization, she felt joy—but only for that single instant. For in the next, she had already begun to mourn the inevitable loss.

“Touché,” was all she said.

As if he already sensed his victory, Dan settled back in his chair and relaxed. Was it just her imagination, wondered Maryanne, or was he, too, already aware of it?

“Mmm,” Dan murmured thoughtfully. “So now all I have to do is find a man who is smart enough to override this…instinct, as you call it, and continue to show an interest in the woman he’s with. Is that it?”

“Well, that would definitely be a good start.”

“Mmm,” he said again. His lips twitched to hold back a slight smirk that was struggling to be set free on his features. “Where could I find such a man?” Encouraged by her growing smile, he continued on this theme, making a pretense of looking around the room curiously. “I wonder where,” he murmured.

Maryanne decided to play along. She, too, began to look around the room, but more skeptically than he was doing. “I don’t know,” she said doubtfully. “It doesn’t look promising.”

“Well, then,” he suddenly announced with conviction. “I guess I’ll just have to prove it to you myself !”

Maryanne threw her head back and laughed. Game, set and match! she thought, admiring how he’d handled it. But when she recovered, she looked him over doubtfully, one eyebrow raised high. “You?” she asked. But she was only teasing him, and they both knew it.

“Sure, why not?” he replied with a casual air. “I always say, if you want something done right you have to do it yourself.”

“So who’s the lucky girl?” she now wanted to know.

“Ooh.” He tried to look a little put out. But he recovered quickly. “You realize the only way you’re ever going to know for sure whether or not I’m proving you wrong is if you’re right there, seeing it for yourself.”

“Mmm.” Now it was Maryanne’s turn to consider. “I guess that seems fair.” But truthfully, aside from this bantering, which was engaging and fun in and of itself, she really had no idea if he was serious about it. Was this just a line to get her home for the night? Probably. But what did it matter? If it was just a line, it was certainly one of the more original ones she’d encountered.

Just then, the waiter came to offer them dessert.

“You’ve barely touched your food,” Dan observed. “Was everything all right?”

“It was fine,” Maryanne told him. “I just wasn’t very hungry.”

He looked at her suspiciously for a moment, but didn’t say anything more. But she knew what he was thinking. People accused her all the time of being anorexic. But she loved her body the way it was.

As they left the restaurant together, she was suddenly filled with that jittery excitement that comes with a new romance.

“How about a little dancing?” Dan suggested. “Would you be into that?”

Maryanne smiled. “I would.”

She was not, however, a confident dancer, and she was pleased when Dan seemed content to slow-dance. Being close to him and having all of his warm, undivided attention directed at her as he led her across the floor acted like a cathartic for her libido. She felt ready and even eager for a more intimate embrace. But he appeared to be in no hurry and she, too, felt remarkably at ease and relaxed. Before she even realized it, they had danced and talked and laughed the night away.

She was surprised when he drove her back to the restaurant.

“Where did you say you were parked?” he asked.

“Oh! Uh, let me see.” She had fully expected him to want to take her home, or at least somewhere private. She was so taken aback by his casual manner that she momentarily forgot where her car was. She glanced at him, confused. She knew she had given him all the right signals. She was certain he was attracted to her. What on earth was going on? “It’s that street over there. Yeah, that one. And it’s the black car, a few blocks down.” She was completely flummoxed, and not a little disappointed.

“I had a wonderful time,” Dan told her, and she noticed that there was surprise in his voice. She wondered if he had felt some of the same misgivings about their date that she had.

“Me, too,” she said, blushing when it came out sounding like an accusation.

Dan chuckled knowingly. “Believe me,” he said with emphasis, “I would love nothing more…”

Maryanne stared at him, surprised that he had read her mind.

“Oh!” she said again. It was disconcerting—albeit refreshing—to be confronted with such honesty.

He parked behind her car and shut off his engine. “If I’m gonna get around this whole male instinct thing and prove you wrong, I’m going to need a strategy,” he told her. “My plan is to let the anticipation build for a while, you know, kind of work my way up to sex. I actually believe in the old adage that the harder you work for something the more you appreciate it.”

She stared at him, stunned. “Are you serious?” It was hard to tell because he was grinning at her.

“Sure. Kind of. Yes!” He opened his car door and got out. She didn’t even reach for her handle, knowing him well enough already to realize he was coming around to open her door for her. He even took her hand and helped her out of his car. But once she was outside, he blocked her from going anywhere. “Of course there’s another part to my strategy, too,” he admitted.

“Oh? And what might that be?” she asked, a little breathless.

“Well, I figure if I kiss you—and I’m not talking about a tight-lipped little prim-and-proper good-night kiss here, but a full-fledged, no-holds-barred, French, Italian and Portuguese all in one, make-out kiss—it’ll help build my anticipation and keep me on pins and needles until the next time I see you.”

“Portuguese?”

“Don’t question me,” he said, gently cupping her face in his hands.

She was still laughing when his lips touched hers, brushing them ever so lightly at first, but the laughter suddenly died in her throat, because he really did kiss her then, just like he said, with a full-fledged, no-holds-barred, French, Italian and Portuguese all in one, granddaddy of a kiss. She clung to his shoulders for support. His strong arms held her up as his hands moved possessively over her back and hips. His lips and tongue seemed to be consuming her. When he finally pulled away, she stared up at him in surprise.

And later, as Maryanne tossed and turned in her bed into the next morning, she wondered if it was for himself or her that he was building anticipation.

Whatever Dan’s intention, they were both eager to see each other again after that, and they made plans for the following night and then the night after that. It went on like this for several weeks. They spent more time together than Maryanne had ever spent with a man, and yet they had still not become intimate—at least not in the truest sense. Dan always refused to take her home. Sometimes he would even go so far as to please her right there in his car, when what started out as one of his good-night kisses ended with her trembling in absolute pleasure after he somehow managed to get beneath her clothing and find just the right places to touch her.

“But I want to please you, too,” she’d say, really meaning it, and not just offering herself because she felt that she ought to because he’d pleased her.

“Not yet,” he’d tell her. “I want you know how much I appreciate you. I want you to believe it.”

And she did. By the time he finally took her home for their first real night together, she was utterly convinced that she had somehow breached the ordinary parameters of relationships as she had come to know them and discovered something truly different and exceptional.

Dan had shown the ultimate self-control up to this point, but when at last she presented herself to him in a little silk negligee she picked out especially for the occasion, he finally lost control. With a strangled groan of anguish he embraced her, moving his hands all over her, trying to touch her everywhere at once and, in his enthusiasm, tearing the delicate fabric.

Maryanne laughed delightedly. She was filled with feminine arousal. She had never in her life felt more desirable, and she knew that because she felt so lusty and desirable, she was.

“God, how I’ve wanted you,” he moaned. He suddenly picked her up, holding her close in his warmth as he carried her to the bed. She could not wait to feel him inside her.

They made love their first time in a kind of frenzy, with Dan holding back for as long as he was able, trembling violently with his effort. He came to her in the ordinary missionary position, but there was nothing ordinary in the way he held her, cradling her shoulders and head in his strong arms, and gazing down into her eyes in between bouts of passionate kisses. He had that wonderful feel and smell of a clean-shaven man, and Maryanne wrapped her limbs around him in eager delight. A kind of aggressive passion welled up in her, and she dug her fingernails into his back. This seemed to push Dan over the edge, and his thrusts began to quicken with his impending release. But suddenly he stopped short, holding himself very still to recover his control, and shaking violently with the effort. Maryanne looked up at him in wonder and he smiled into her eyes.

“Almost lost it there,” he groaned. “You’ve got me in knots.”

“Go ahead if you want!” she encouraged.

“No. You first.”

And once again she was reminded of how much she meant to him, and her own arousal soared to be so valued and so desired. She kissed him with all the passion she felt. He moved with her, assisting her, maintaining control and using his hands and lips and everything else he could think of to please her. When she finally cried out with her release, he lost the last bit of his control, crying out with her.

Afterward he was not quick to release her, but held her quite close, remaining firmly embedded in her as he spoke in a low, intimate voice. “You’re an amazing woman,” he told her, and his eyes seemed to be trying to communicate something more to her as his gaze burned into her.

It was not long before they were both aroused all over again, and this time he had no difficulty prolonging their lovemaking, switching positions numerous times before Maryanne found herself being taken the way she liked best, on her hands and knees. With this she went wild, flinging her hips outward toward Dan in a most enticing erotic dance. Her sudden abandon roused him beyond what she had seen thus far, and she was once again struck with her own femininity and allure. She felt exceedingly sensual. All her inhibitions melted away, and she audaciously continued her dance until the pleasure finally became too much for her and a thousand little sensations exploded within her. Meanwhile, Dan paused to allow her to achieve the full spectrum of her release.

Maryanne smoldered in the aftermath for a few moments. But then, craving a more intimate embrace, she lifted her body up against him, so that she was on her knees and leaning back on Dan’s chest. He immediately acclimated to this new position, wrapping his arms around her body to offer support while lunging upward into her body. He moved his hands over her, squeezing her nipples with one while gently stimulating her clitoris with the other. Filled to overflowing with tender affection, Maryanne reached her lithe arms behind her to reciprocate the embrace, gliding her long, manicured nails up and down along his firm backside. Every now and then she would dig her nails into his flesh—just hard enough to stimulate but not to hurt—egging him on as he tirelessly thrust up into her. The lust was consuming her yet again, and she nimbly turned her upper body toward him suddenly, clutching his face in her hands almost violently so that she could kiss him. A kind of euphoric aggression reared up in her with her sudden awareness of her feminine power, but the soft, warm contentment that she was blanketed in overruled all.

“Why do you never eat?” Dan asked her later.

“I eat!” she replied.

“I haven’t ever seen you eat,” he countered. “And you’re so thin.” She was quiet, so he carefully maneuvered himself to look at her face without disturbing her much. “I’m not trying to stick my nose where it doesn’t belong, or fix you or anything like that,” he said. “I just want to make sure you’re okay. And to let you know that I understand if you ever need a friend.”

“You understand?” she asked curiously. There were myriad things she normally said when someone brought the subject up, but at the moment she was too weakened by the intense lovemaking to get sufficiently worked up to a defensive status.

“My sister is anorexic,” he told her. “She’s a beautiful woman and I can’t stand that she suffers so much simply because she doesn’t know it.”

Maryanne stared at him, speechless.

Dan kissed her lips tenderly, holding her face in his hands. “I would hate it just as much if you didn’t know how beautiful you are.”

She smiled. “You certainly know how to make a girl feel beautiful,” she admitted. And it was true. Maryanne suddenly felt like a goddess with a body as supple and sensual as a cat’s. In the days that followed, she basked in the glow of being one with another and having it mean everything to him. She raced to see Dan at the end of each day, longing once again for that intense pleasure of being accepted and adored and desired. Within a week, she was struck with the astounding realization that she was in love.

When it first occurred to her, Maryanne was alarmed. What about all her philosophies about love? What about the conclusions she had reached about relationships over her lifetime?

But she told herself that this time was different. She could clearly see, even in this incredibly short period of time in which she had known him, that Dan was different than any other man she had known before. He had already exceeded everyone else in her heart.

She had no choice but to try, she told herself. She must find the courage to see it through.

And already, she harbored secret little fantasies and dreams of their life together. They kept growing and building deep within her mind and heart. Her long, lonely past was behind her. A life with Dan was in front of her.

A month had passed since the night she first met Dan, discouraged and stressed and apathetic. She had hardly put her best foot forward that night, but he had looked past everything else and discovered something special in her. And unlike any other man she had ever known, he had proven himself to her. Tonight she would show him how much she appreciated him. Tonight she would prove herself to him.

Maryanne trembled with anticipation as she went about her day. She took the day off work so that she could accomplish all that she planned. She began with an arduous trip to the salon and, by the time she left, there was not so much as an inch of her body that had not been buffed, waxed, filed, exfoliated, styled or in some other way enhanced. She could hardly afford it, but all that she had to do was picture Dan’s face and suddenly she knew that it was money well spent. Besides, she could tell by the way she was tingling inwardly that she had to be positively glowing outwardly. She couldn’t wait to see Dan’s expression when he saw her.

But then, having gone to so much trouble and expense already, she felt that she ought to have something fabulous to wear, both in and out of the bedroom. After all, with this being the anniversary of their first month together, it was important that she show Dan that she was willing to make the effort to please him.

The day flew by in a haze of anticipation at the prospect of delighting aloved one. Everything was a success. Maryanne not only found the perfect dress to complement her slender figure but it just happened to be in Dan’s favorite color. Suddenly feeling a bit naughty and bold, she followed this purchase up with stockings and a garter belt. She would wear that—and nothing else—under her dress. She debated with herself over whether she should tell him what she was wearing ahead of time or let him discover it when he undressed her. She could imagine teasing him with it at the restaurant. But then again, the surprise when he discovered it himself would be memorable as well. She tried to make up her mind as she headed home to put on her makeup. Glancing at the clock, she realized with a start that she was actually running late.

They had agreed to meet at the same restaurant where they first met in person. Maryanne felt a strange sense of déjà vu as she rushed through the streets to get to the restaurant. Once again, parking had been impossible.

But none of that mattered when at last she reached the restaurant, cheeks flushed and a brilliant smile on her face. She felt such keen excitement that the mere sight of Dan, sitting in the same spot where she had seen him for the first time, caused her heart to flutter unnaturally and her breath to catch in her throat. But when he turned to face her, the smile died on her lips.

“What’s wrong?” she whispered breathlessly.

“Not a thing, now that you’re here,” he replied with his usual, good-natured manner. But before Maryanne could even accept or reject this, he stood up and turned toward the hostess without having given her more than a cursory glance. “Here she is,” he said to the woman apologetically. “I really appreciate you holding the table.”

And with that Maryanne was suddenly being ushered along behind the hostess, with a little nudge from Dan to the small of her back. She felt trapped between the two of them and suddenly terribly claustrophobic. In the back of her mind, she had a premonition of something tragic about to occur but she ignored it, turning her mind angrily to the moment instead, and thinking that she didn’t really care whether or not the hostess had to hold the table. That was what hostesses were paid to do, after all. Why must Maryanne be flung around like a rag doll, without even so much as the courtesy of a greeting just to make life easier for the restaurant staff ?

Maryanne kept walking but she turned her head toward Dan as she went, prepared to toss a flip remark along these lines in his direction. But the remark instantly died in her throat. She saw that his eyes were glued on someone else, and she knew without even following his gaze who it was that had captured his interest. It was a woman that she had barely noticed a moment before, except perhaps in that way women do tend to notice other women. She suddenly remembered her in vivid detail. She could almost visualize each and every feature at the same moment that Dan was seeing it, just by watching his eyes move up and down over the woman with keen interest.

And then Dan’s eyes met Maryanne’s.

They arrived at their table. The woman in question had passed by and was gone. Maryanne fumbled with her chair and clumsily seated herself. She felt awkward and ridiculous. She dug her nails into her palms and tried her best to appear nonchalant.

She noticed with another wave of humiliation that Dan’s eyes were full of remorse.

“I’m sorry,” he said solemnly. Maryanne merely looked at him with a confused expression, as if she had no idea what he could possibly be sorry for. Her lips were formed into a small, humorless smile. She wanted to brush the matter aside but she didn’t trust herself to speak. “Look, I know that you’re upset. You saw me looking at that woman, right? I’m sorry. It was like…I didn’t even realize I was doing it until I saw your face.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” she told him, praying he would drop the subject. But she could hear that her voice held that tone; the tone was a dead giveaway that there was something to be sorry for. She tilted her head to hide her face and pretended to examine the menu. Above all, she desperately hoped that he wouldn’t humiliate her further by patronizing her with some perfunctory compliment. She far preferred him to continue to not notice her at all. She tried to think of something to say to change the subject.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he said, immobilizing her in horror. Every word he uttered drove her further away from him. “You’re the most beautiful woman in the room.”

“I worked late so I didn’t even have time to change,” she lied. “I almost didn’t show up at all, so you see your compliments only make you appear less sincere.” She definitely didn’t want him thinking she had gone to any trouble.

“Well, what I mean is that you look beautiful without having to lift a finger.”

She was in turmoil, but the smile remained stubbornly fixed on her lips. Inwardly she was comparing this night with their first date, when he had been indulgent over her tardiness and took note of every detail about her with keen interest. But this was really no surprise, she reminded herself. Hadn’t she predicted this very outcome that first night?

“You’re thinking that this is a sign that I am beginning to do the guy thing and lose interest in you.”

“What I was thinking was that I wish you would change the subject.”

“You see!” he exclaimed. “That’s what I mean. If this didn’t really upset you, your eyes would be flashing with excitement right now while you pointed out how right you were.”

Maryanne was momentarily taken aback. He was perfectly right. And she was impressed with him all over again in spite of what had happened. She sighed. It was so disconcerting to know that as she grew more attracted to him, he would only grow less attracted to her. The waitress came and they ordered drinks.

Maryanne was becoming more composed.

“Okay,” she conceded, pulling her thoughts together. “Although I am hardly upset, as you suggest, I will admit that I was thinking that the disenchantment has already begun. Just as I predicted that it would. Just as I knew it would. I never for an instant believed it would be otherwise. So why should I be surprised or upset?”

“All because I looked at another woman?”

She shrugged. “That and other things.”

He looked at her sideways, confused. “Other things?”

She was careful to phrase her words so that she didn’t give her true feelings away. She would discuss it with him—she found that she was intrigued by the prospect of doing so—but she would never let him see how much he had hurt her. She could never let him know that she’d been fooled by him, even for a single moment. That would be the worst thing she could do.

“When I met you here tonight, every detail of our meeting was precisely the same as it was the first time, right down to how late I was.” Except that I worked ten times harder to impress you tonight, she added to herself. “I planned it that way so that I could compare how you behaved tonight with how you behaved back then. Suffice it to say, you were more considerate, attentive, and much more intrigued with me when I was a stranger. So yes, I would say that it’s already starting.”

He stared at her, momentarily speechless. In the meantime, their drinks arrived. He sipped his thoughtfully.

“Maybe this…thing that happens with guys isn’t what you think. Maybe it seems one way to you, but that’s not the way it really is. I know, for example, that I have been thinking about you nonstop all day. Every minute that I waited for you in the front of this restaurant tonight was pure agony. My feelings for you are stronger than a month ago, so the only thing I can think is that somehow my behavior is not showing you how I really feel.”

“That may be true,” she said. “But what does it matter? I’m not a mind reader, so your behavior, not what you’re thinking, is what has an effect on me.” She suddenly remembered the way his eyes had moved over the woman earlier. It was precisely how they had traveled over her the first time he saw her. And now, for all of her efforts that day, he had yet to really look at her.

“Well, I’ll just have to be more aware of it and try harder,” he said. He took another sip from his drink. But he was suddenly anxious. “Will you allow me that—the chance to become a better man?”

She felt a tug at her heartstrings in spite of her unhappiness. Yet she couldn’t help wondering why men clung so tenaciously to women when their instincts were telling them to let go. And she couldn’t help being irritated with him, either. Why was he so intent on selling her something he had no ability to deliver? This could have been so much more fun if he had just allowed her to remain indifferent. But he had to push her for more and now she had stupidly allowed herself to fall for him. She found his disenchantment utterly despicable. And the worst part was, her disenchantment was the one thing that had the power to intrigue him all over again!

She was once again struck by the utter hopelessness of relationships.

She couldn’t bring herself to answer his question either way, but luckily the waitress came by at that moment to take their order. For dinner, she ordered another martini.

With Dan once again the attentive pursuer, his eyes seemed to open suddenly and he really looked at Maryanne for the first time that night.

“If this is how you dress for work,” he observed thoughtfully, “I think you should switch to a career in modeling.”

She downed the rest of her martini in a single gulp and shrugged. “What, you think I look good tonight?” She said this as if it were the most absurd thing she had ever heard.

Dan laughed. “Yeah, I think you look good. Too good.” He picked up her hand and carefully examined her perfectly manicured pink fingernails. “Mmm,” he remarked thoughtfully. “I don’t think they’re working you hard enough over there.”

“Well, you know how it is,” she countered nonchalantly. His playful mood was catching. “Some of us make it look easier than others.”

“I guess so!” he agreed emphatically. He turned to her hair, picking up a lock and examining it as he twirled it between his fingers. “And I would say that the air-conditioning in that place is set to the perfect temperature and humidity for hair. Just look at the condition of this curl!”

She turned her eyes as if to examine it with him. “Humph,” she said, pretending to ponder the matter as if she had no idea that there were at least four different hair products forcing it to perform in such an exceptional matter. “I never noticed that before.”

“Yeah. Those are some great working conditions you’ve got over there.” His attention now turned to her face. She watched his eyes as they took in everything from her delicately shaped eyebrows to her shimmering lips. “Great working conditions,” he repeated thoughtfully.

While it delighted her to hear these things, every single word only served to prove that she had been right. But she only smiled.

“I think I fucked up more than I realized,” he said quietly. And she could feel herself melting for him all over again in spite of everything. But the little voice inside her head cried, “Don’t! You’ll only make it end faster!”

And she suddenly realized that it was not his fault or hers. It simply was. And she no longer wanted to talk about it. Why rail against what is? To accept things as they were was to truly live and experience life. To fight against those things was to prevent it. She looked at Dan with appreciation. The least she could do was accept him, and in order to accept him she must forgive him. And for the first time in her life she was able to accept and forgive herself, as well.

“What are you thinking?” Dan asked her.

“I was thinking that you look pretty good yourself.”

“Well, unlike you, I actually had to work at getting presentable,” he joked. “Shaved and everything, see?”

Maryanne laughed.

They were back on good terms again, and they flirted and talked and laughed just like always.

But even so, later that night, when it was time to go home, Maryanne felt like being alone.

“Can I just come over and tuck you in?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she hedged. “I’m not sure I’m up for it.”

“Listen,” he told her. “I really want to be with you tonight—no, it’s not about sex, I don’t even want sex—but I want to be near you…to hold you. Come on. Can I, please, can I, huh?” He began to whimper like a puppy until she relented, laughing.

“Okay, maybe just for a little while.”

And he was true to his word, simply wrapping her in a blanket of warmth as he snuggled up next to her in the spoon position.

“Shhh,” he interrupted when she tried to move or speak. “I don’t care how much you beg or plead, you are not getting sex!” She laughed, all the more amused because his raging erection was conspicuously poking into her back. “Now just settle down and go to sleep.”

But all of a sudden Maryanne didn’t want to go to sleep. She wanted Dan. And she was in a dangerously indulgent mood regarding wants; it was a mood to not only satisfy those wants but to surpass them.

She wiggled her backside into him enticingly and smiled when he groaned.

“Come on,” he begged. “Play fair.”

She moved against him again, more persistently this time. His hips automatically jutted forward in response. She continued to rub up against him rhythmically, slowly maneuvering herself until his erection found its way in between her legs. And still she kept undulating her hips back and forth over him, enjoying the exquisitely tantalizing foreplay.

She could feel his heartbeat pounding in time with hers, but neither of them was in a hurry to put an end to the delicious torment. They knew the moment would come when all of their movements and gyrations would at last cause his erection to find its own way into her. And when it finally did, only then did Dan clamp his arms and legs around her body to hold her firmly in place as he mindlessly drove himself into her. Their bodies, which were entwined together as one and still lying down sideways, were periodically propelled forward in time with his thrusts. Maryanne couldn’t move so much as an inch, Dan held her so fully restrained. But she was content, for the moment, to simply bask in the pleasure of having him exactly where she wanted him. All of her instincts rose up within her, curling and mingling with her most intense desires. “Listen,” her instincts seemed to be saying. “Listen to your heart and accept what is.”

She passively allowed him to hold her during this exquisite assault for as long as she was able, relishing each and every deliciously agonizing moment of delayed gratification that it brought. The pleasure she would gain from prolonging and extending her own satisfaction would be immense. And in the meantime, she enjoyed every single thrust of his body into hers, delighting in the feel of him as he took her with reckless abandon. And she could tell that he was in no hurry, either, but, rather, he was in a mood to take his time and savor every stroke right along with her. She let her hands run over his strong, muscular arms, reveling in the way they so fully restrained her. She loved the feeling of being momentarily powerless and completely surrendering to the man that she loved.

Their bodies moved together in perfect harmony, with hers gracefully arching upward in time with his thrusts like a well-choreographed dance, and neither one wanted it to end. They remained entwined this way for the better part of an hour. But Maryanne’s desire, which had merely been simmering so far, was suddenly about to erupt into a boil.

She began to struggle against him. Her hips were first to buck and thrash, and then her arms and legs followed. When he loosened his hold on her, she moved up onto her knees, clutching his hips to hers as she went so he would not leave her for a single instant. Her growing excitement as she now took control spurred him on even more. He glided his hands lovingly over her body, caressing her breasts and teasing her nipples. He let his fingers roam lower until they found her swollen clitoris and began prodding and teasing it mercilessly. She used her thighs to propel her body up and down on him in time with his thrusts. As his hands moved over her, so, too, did hers reach behind to caress him.

Maryanne moaned loudly with pleasure as she pumped her hips over Dan’s rock-hard erection. She felt the giddying sensations of her impending orgasm rising up in her, causing her to become even more reckless in her utter abandon. She clutched his hips in her hands, pulling him into her even as she pushed backward, making his thrusts go deeper. Her nails dug into his flesh as she held him, but her aggressiveness only further inflamed Dan. He, too, became more impassioned, and his fingers on her clitoris became more forceful, coaxing and prodding the little swollen nub relentlessly. With his other hand, he pinched her nipples ruthlessly.

Maryanne’s hips kept thrashing violently, even as the heady sensations of her orgasm began to erupt within her. In a sudden frenzy, she turned her face toward Dan’s, and he immediately captured her lips in a passionate kiss. Her hands flew up around his neck and she clung to him so that she could kiss him more passionately. Her cry of pleasure was muffled by the kiss, but suddenly Dan’s head flew back in ecstasy as his own release hit him. In that very instant, Maryanne’s fingernails bore into the back of his neck, effectively paralyzing him. His body continued to ejaculate even more vigorously as she plunged her teeth into his neck and ripped out a large portion of his flesh. He could do little more than stare in disbelief as she began to devour him. She ate with relish, suddenly oblivious to everything else but her incredible hunger. Dan could not move or speak. His final moments were spent in an unfathomable paradox between the ultimate pleasure and the most unthinkable horror.

When Maryanne’s hunger finally waned, Dan’s head had all but been severed. She moved away from him, strangely at peace. It was, she told herself, for the best. There was no more self-loathing or regret. She had finally learned to accept herself, and ironically she had Dan to thank for that.

Maryanne sat on the edge of the bed, slender and straight-backed, with her head tilted slightly forward in that timid way that she had, and her hands clasped in front of her as if in prayer. She allowed herself to rock lightly from side to side, now that she was alone. She thought about the future. Unfortunately, it meant that she would once again be obliged to change her appearance and move on. But even that did not worry her overmuch. A chameleon who could blend into any environment was also an integral part of who she was. She could suddenly see the wisdom and harmony in everything that occurred around her. She would never again struggle against her own instincts or pine for a different existence. This was how things were, and from now on she would accept her reality for what it was. To struggle against it was, to Maryanne’s way of thinking, living in denial. She smiled humorlessly when she thought of the myriads of sad, empty females who allowed their inner selves to be depleted by this fallacy of holding one man’s interest and affection forever.

But she would never share her insights with anyone again. Doing so had only accelerated the process and brought about a quicker end. At all costs, she must learn to enjoy love for as long as possible before it was inevitably lost to disenchantment.