The Cryptic Beauty

The smell of white jasmine and cherry blossoms enveloped the surrounding air. I slowly opened my eyes, surely I must be dreaming. I stared out the window with discontent. The world was thriving in blankets of euphoria, while I sat, wallowing in my own disgust and torment. Not even able to face the ground in which I labored, lost, and loved.  Then, like a turtle protruding threw it's shell, a thought arose in my conscious. The remains of the night before. What had come of it's wicked existence. As if the world read my mind, I felt the gentle touch of a wondering hand gliding across my back and settling itself upon the peak of my hip bone. The earth had answered my lingering thought. My tainted thoughts circulating with dismay. Then as gracefully as it had come, the enigmatic hand descended gently away, as I felt the seemingly everlasting meadows of sheets drifting away from my body, as the cryptic beauty wrapped them around her eminent figure. Her fingertips danced meticulously across her back and through her lustful hair. She was exquisite. Sculpted by gods. By the hand of a the most prominent artist.1

I guided my body upward and rested my back upon the oak head board. How had I obtained such a beautiful women. Her every movement was absent of any flaws. Her hips rolled as she walked, making her hour-glass figure shimmer with desire. I was in a trance of fascination as she turned around, facing me, letting the meadows of sheets gravitate down, exposing her faultless glory, and her impeccable breast. Like a tower of flesh. For my eyes only. For my hands only. The control. The security. Gave my restlessness a temporary reprieve. Her eyes were unyielding. Blue awaken by the sun's glare, adding up to an extravagance far beyond my grasp, but within my every desire. Her eyes yearned for the world. They yearned for recklessness. But at the same time, they calmed my hesitation with a warmth, so barbaric, it exploded in my mind.2

"Good morning."3

Her words rushed into my ears and interrupted the trance I had fallen under. I couldn't find the words to reply. I could feel the blood rush to my face, and then the inevitable wave of a hangover creeping into cognition. I pulled the blanket that had slid of the bed over my bare body, and continued to get up. I walked passed her, my eyes resting upon her body the entire time. I went to the kitchen and grabbed a diet coke from the refrigerator, and sat down on the edge of my bed.4

"You should leave", I whispered.5

The women crawled on to the bed, not even trying to hold the sheet over her body, and sat behind me. She worked her hand up my back and settled it upon my shoulder. She positioned her other hand on my thigh and just remained there. Her hair fell upon my back, moving with every one of her body movements. I closed my eyes.6

"I'm going to go hop in the shower, feel free to join me", she said.7

She abandoned the sheet on the bed and walked to the bathroom naked. I found myself letting out a half attempted chuckle. What a beautiful creature. So subtle, yet so dominant. So gorgeous, yet so obstinate. I folded my hand behind my back and grabbed the remote to turn on the TV. Like every morning I turned it to the channel 12 news. I couldn't keep my attention focused on the television. I heard the shower start and peered across the room to notice the door left open carelessly. I smiled and got up. I walked into the bathroom. The mirror was glazed with fog, as I tried to make out my own bodily figure. The women was humming a song. Nancy Sinatra. 8

I argued with myself for a brief moment, on whether or not to take up her invitation. I leaned against the wall and slid to the ground. I sat there in the warm moisture of the bathroom, listening to the beautiful sound of the women's humming. It was like a masquerade of grace in my ears. I could make out a evanescent figure beyond the white shower curtain. Her silhouette glided across the compliant vinyl of the the shower curtain. I retreated from the bathroom and returned to my bed, stripped of blankets and sheets. It had already lost it's warmth. I was content to finish watching the news, but it was interrupted by redundant commercials. I shuffled threw the channels indolently, searching for something to watch, when I heard the water from the shower stop. I immediately switched my attention to the door, now completely open, steam pouring out like an avalanche. I could see the women fumbling with her hair in the mirror while consistently adjusting the towel wrapped around her.