When Someone Else Is You: Three D
Without wasting anymore time and mind space, jump with me to a postcard moment. If you are not feeling loved right now, or at work passing time browsing through a few of my theories or other writers, this one is not for you. Read another one of mine, and don't ruin this theory and what it can do by trying to prove a meaningless point. This is one of those, “Oh my goodness Theories". A theory meant to bulge a males pants and dampen the seat or chair a female is sitting on. So go with me, come with me and migrate in the marinade of magical moments. Don't spend too much time imagining me per say, but make like Tom Cruise in the movie when the three humans could tell the future, and remove my eyes with yours. Take out the time to not think about time, and travel with me where ever you are. Journey to a place, and see things my way for a drawn out Texas minute. So now picture this moment. I'm outside at an Italian Restaurant, sitting under an umbrella in ninety degree weather by myself, drinking a glass of Grappa while being served a Chicken Salad lunch plate with cranberries sprinkled over the fresh young spinach leaves, in Miami. Call it what you want, but casually, I'm ridiculously dressed to the hilt, feeling better than the word, chillin' with a half opened Robb Report Magazine to my left. It's a Narcissistic feeling we all have sometimes if we select to admit it or not, where we don't want any company, distractions or anything but the moment to occupy our time. Me and my guys have a saying when a person mentally elevates to a space like this. We say that whom ever it is that goes to this mystical place, “Is On One". Well you must understand that to reach such a level is rare, but much more identifiable to athletes when they have one of those special games, and categorize it as, “In Tha Zone". So now that I've explained what it means when or if you ever read me talking about, "Being On One", understand where that came from. But back to the patio, magazine and salad, and now also understand that I wasn't just on one, I was feeling like I was on two! Now, as you've swapped visions with me, let me close my eyes and fully continue writing this theory I call, Three D.
A Desperate Devouring Desire, or Three D, is the definition I would like for you to look up when or if this theory steers you wrong. I'm talking a lustful moment where you feel like you're drunk, because you're slurring your words when you think about talking. I'm talking a mini explosion that is combusting the sweat through your pores in a below zero snow storm. We're talking about a bonafide carpet ride, which glides in and out smoother than your coolest cucumber. I'm not talking about a surface level exotic fantasy, I'm speaking about a core conceiving erotic love affair in reality. To the point where saturating a situation is not enough, and you're able to appreciate and admire the many elements that take you into the zone I described earlier. But imagine a postcard with you taking the photo, being in the photo and not the subject of the photograph in the photo. It’s not all about you, but how a thing all around you brings this moment alive. Yeah, way way out there passion, and you're wishing to live this moment out for the rest of your life, but can't, because you're impervious to such a satisfaction. Now, take it to your fantasy. Take it to where you wanna go, and pretend to include others that know they're not exactly what you imagined. Now after that, imagine where you are not at, and that will bring you to where I'm talking about. I'm looking at a salad, a scenery, and a moment in a land far away from here. One of those nights where you take things beyond the penthouse. One of those take your time nights, where all seems like a dream you are able to craft like a director in a movie. A feeling that makes you who you are and a moment that turns you into the person you wanna be. A Three D moment.
Now as I'm thinking about my woman many mental miles away and wanting to talk to her, I place my silverware down, and reached inside of my jacket pocket for my cell phone. I want to share this electric moment, but also keep it to myself. I reach again for my phone, open it and speed dial her number to check on how she might be cosmetically feeling. Just about that time, a stunning woman walked, or should I say, snuck up on me and properly introduced herself. As I calmly shook off the interruption, I heard the tail end of her request to join me at my table. She wasn't being too forward or pushy, there were no available tables that were facing the streets the way one should face while dining outside, and seen I was by myself and comfortable with that situation. As I heard the voice mail come on from a distance on my woman's phone I just had called, I told the woman to please have a seat, went back to the phone call, left a message and sat back down after sliding the chair under this woman's body. Her look was athletically voluptuous. Her face nothing too dramatic or sharp, but classic in how she naturally uplifted her fine biological features with man made make-up. Her lips were painted red, nails and toes done with a white tip fashion. Her dress was summery and light, as the designer bag she let dangle, discreetly showcased the label that said it was made the same place as the liquid in my glass. Her movements were not rushed, as she again reached out to offer me her hand in re-introduction. As this good looking male server with a bronze like tan re-entered into my dining and fantasy world again to ask my new lunch companion what he could bring to her, I gave a glance to both of them via the third eye, and approved that the Waterford Crystal glass of wine I was drinking is absolutely the best. Without a word and a head nod, she agreed with me and watched the server pour this mixture of stems and seeds once made by peasants and European laborers. Now as I'm breaking the ice with this flame thrower, I'm doing my man thang, and surveying the merchandise two feet away. I'm noticing how she is leaving lipstick rings around her glass as she sips, swishes and swallows effortlessly. As I'm talking and watching her eyes move up and down the menu, I felt totally ironic in her mind and thought process when she ordered the Oysters Rockefeller, and then looked into my eyes to see how alert I was to her selection. I simply grinned slowly, swiveled my neck from side to side in super slow motion, and simply gave another head nod, like I was listening to George Duke in one of my vehicles. I'm feeling it, flashing back to one of my favorite movies, "The American Gigolo". I'm on one, two and headed straight for three in this moment. I'm simply, Three D with it.
As I succulently watch this woman take bite after bite, taste after taste and swallow each Oyster like it could be the last one she would ever taste, I'm checking out her package for the last time, again. I'm noticing the lace bra that's barely showing, and how the wind keeps blowing the bottom of this wind resistant dress from side to side. How her legs were tone, but not too over defined, Legs looking smooth as her demeanor, with glistening reflections off of the tiny hairs that are now semi-erect like me. I'm thinking, or should I say, imagining how she would look in the morning with no make-up, and in the shower, battling me and the water-head at the same time as streams bounce off of our moving bodies. You see I like that girl next door beauty. The woman that doesn't look like the models on the magazine, but the stereotype of the woman that will read the magazine to find out the intricacies of men and the male species. The silent and classic type, that you know will rock your world in a heart beat, if you slip on her skills. Like on the show, “Desperate Housewives". Not the Nicole Sheridan character, that's a little too much out there for me, but the Terri Hatcher character, that's a little bit fucked up, but down for her man like four flat tires. That look. Anyway, the woman is now offering me a taste of her meal, is something like that. She was out shopping, and like me, had a notion to experience a postcard moment. If I had to describe how I was feeling, I would have to say I was seriously thinking about sex at this time. Sex in the manner of love, and also taking things to an animalistic level, and letting go to explore beyond our own imagination. Nothing dangerous is nothing if you’re feeling this invincible, seamless and bulletproof. You see I'm a patient lover. I'm not just writing his down or saying this for the hell of it. I'm actually one of take your time lovers, that enjoys each and every moment. I'm fully capable of releasing two or three orgasms in a session three or four times a week. But prefer experiencing one major one each time I indulge, and give my partner, three or four in various way on many different levels. So it's nothing to imagine me slowly removing a woman's clothing piece by piece, and stroking other parts of her body to another rhythm to bring on those chill bumps. Nothing to think of me cupping my hands and masturbating a woman's calf and arms, kissing on her neck as listen to her moan, pant and move her head to the command f my lips applying soft gentle kisses. It's nothing for me to be picking up my princess, honeymoon threshold style, and placing her half naked body in the middle of the bed, table or floor. To hold her hand and extend her arms while I am lightly sucking on her toes, one by one. To move my way up, turn her over and begin kissing the inside of each thigh, working my way up as I continue to stay down where I want and need to be. To palm each cheek with my basketball playing hands, and spread them and measure my abilities in seeing the wetness coat the pinkness of her element that defines her as a female. To use my tongue as another extremity, and blindly find where her clitoris is and stay there for a while like its home or where I belong. To then turn her over again, and feel these soft hands, firmly grip my shaved head and attempt to pull me deeper inside of her. To grin inside, as I notice her trying to lift up and watch me and attempt to formulate words again to speak like she is thinking. I'm thinking about the watching the Olympics on a 1960 television set right now, because at this very moment, I about to spread those antennas and test her flexibility like a gymnast doing a floor exercise. I'm going there in thought, and now not saying a word, looking for the poster boy server, to order another round of drinks and seafood. I'm in a Three D Moment.
So now as I'm physically full and mentally starving for more, I'm looking at her, looking at me. She is feeling it too, I can tell, but we're now wondering what steps we should take next. We’re wondering if we should patronize the suite next door, or go meet in a bathroom stall and see what happens after it happens. I suggested a walk on the beach, and she agreed to the offer, I signed for the meal, left my briefcase in the coat check along with her purse, and held her hands like a school child crossing the street. Things felt so natural, as I'm now reaching to turn off my cell phone for the duration of the expedition. I'm feeling suave, mysterious, compassionate and spontaneous. She's playing the role of damsel to perfection, as I'm leading her through the sands of south beach. Just by crossing the streets and leaving the shops on the boulevard, we felt miles away from everywhere. I then spotted a Gondola boating service, and firmly steered her towards the men near the Italian sea vessels. As we got to the docks, I seen the looks she was getting from the dock hands through my tinted shades. I think they could have been Stevie Wonder and ray Charles and seen this woman. She was pouring out passion, and with each slight gush of wind that blew anywhere near the bottom of her dress, you could smell her stimulation and wonder, if you're smelling what you think you are. Her face was calm, as you could tell her skin was boiling from the inside out. We rented a boat with no one to row it, and set sail for the next hour, to our own paradise. I actually start rowing for a New York minute to get us started in the water, but then relaxed to save my energy for the ride. So after building up a little bit of momentum with the wood hoers, I was feeling like I needed my wood sanded, if you know what I mean. We were gliding through the water, and admiring nature, as it took its course, As the sun started to set, the breeze from the lake, was starting to make her cold. Maybe she was starting to simmer down, or using Mother Nature as an excuse or reason to warm back up. I laid down, her on atop of my chest. I'm feeling energetic because of the salad, as the wine mellowed my laid back mood. We started to talk again and giggled. Then we smiled and talked. Talked and then kissed. Kissed some more and talked even less. We started to cuddle and then kiss. Smile, cuddle, kiss and giggle some more. Rubbed each other and completely stop talking, as we spoke in the most universal language know to man. Between the waves crashing against the now rocking boat, all we could hear was each others heart beat. First I was on top, then on our side. Her on top, leaving stains on my trousers like I had a wet dream. Her hair was blowing back, like she was near a fan blowing the wind towards her face. She reached for the zipper in my trousers, and she unstraped my braces that held up my trousers. She reached down to discover that my manhood was three and a half inches short of a foot. She grabbed a hold of me, as I seen her white tip nails, try to touch each other as she is mindlessly measuring my thickness and wanting to see if there is any more to absorb. My feet are going to sleep, as I am getting a little bit light headed because of the blood flowing to a centrally located section below my torso. I then extend my fingers, and reach under her dress. It seems too easy as I entered inside of her, and again heard the water splashing against our Gondola. But all of a sudden I realized that we were at a halt and the water was calm. The water was at a stand still, and the sounds I was hearing was her wanting more and more of me. You truly must understand that I am a man of God, astute business man, ex-athlete and preppy school boy. All of that has gone out of the window, because I'm feeling better than any point I can recall. I mean please don't get me wrong, I love my family, career, built and sold businesses and seen my daughter born. But this is some new shit I never thought I'd witness, and now wanting to know how to make it, sell it and stockpile a bunch of it for my own person use. I'm thinking romantic thoughts right now. On the bed, in the kitchen, on the beach and in the shower. I know water is the strongest and most powerful force on earth. But let me tell you, at this very moment, this woman would make water wet, she's so turned on and out. I'm on three now, and going for much higher numbers. I'm feeling, Three D.
So as we drift back to shore, smiling and glowing from our two hour get-a-way from reality, I notice the looks on the faces of the dock workers. They're wondering, hoping, and almost begging for me to give them a blow by blow analysis of my excursion out on the shores of Miami. They're inspecting the vessel to see if we left any evidence of romance, damage or whatever. They're looking without knowing we wore the bare minimum to save time and effort, all the way around. We got out of the boat, crossed the street again, and went back to the table we had left a few hours earlier that was being reserved for our re-entry. As we sat back down, the drink of choice now, is water, to dehydrate our worn and exercised bodies. As we study the menu to see if we needed anything else t eat after the meal we had after the meal we ate at this very spot earlier, we looked at each other with a devilish grin. As I declined another course from the menu, she followed suit and asked me my plans for the rest of the evening. I told her I had work to do, and that we should continue with our normal routines and return to our lives before this moment. She agreed and called silently to the valet to bring around our cars. As we winked and playfully made fun of each other with secrets we now only know about, I turned my cell phone back on. Within seconds of its activation, it began to ring. I answered it and heard a woman's voice on the other end. The woman asked me, " Where are you and when am I coming back?" My lunch date looked over at me, placed her hand over her laughing mouth and whispered, " I'm sorry". I waved my hand and told her with lip service that things were manageable and thank you. As she drove off, I got back on the phone. The female voice was my secretary, and she then asked me, " How was lunch, and what did you two do this week". I told her lunch was great, and it was better than the week before, and the week before that and so on. She then asked about my girlfriend, and I told her that the Oysters Rockefeller was great, and the boat ride, stupendous! I challenge each of you to have a lunch date like this one, with the one you love. Don't wait for it to happen, make it happen. Its a great thing to see, when you're looking, in Three D -
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