Cafe Romance

by Curtis Bennett

  "You know, your mother and grandmother would be very proud of you. Oh glory! Thank you, Jesus!" Kurt heard her chant, over and over. “No more roof leaks. No more backed up toilets.”

  In a very poignant moment, Kurt turned his gaze to the left and found his mother's smiling picture resting in its wood frame on a countertop nearby and a soft smile formed across his face.

  "Listen Mrs. Ruth, would you rather move into a new home?"

  "Why thank you, Kurt, but this is the only home Ms. Ruth has known for the past thirty years. If you can just fix it up a little I will be appreciative of that, son."

  "As you please. Consider it done."

  Earl Pratt hailed from New Jersey and was a boyhood pal of Kurt's. The two attended grade school together and often competed against one another academically and were rivals in the arts. Mild-mannered, of medium built, but slightly asthmatic, especially during the pollen season, he was like a brother to Kurt. The two spent hours, after school, working on various arts and science projects, and playing games such as Monopoly, Scramble, and Chess. They also practiced gymnastics in the backyard with Earl's younger brother Pryor on the weekends.

  Though they were fierce competitors, the two were foremost friends. When they went off to college, Kurt headed south to a little known Cumberland Presbyterian liberal arts school named Bethel College, while Earl attended Howard University in Washington DC. Though thousands of miles apart, the two stayed in touch with one another throughout the years. Earl eventually went on to enter the university's law school program, graduating with honors. In time, he became a very wealthy and astute corporate lawyer.

  Earl specialized in the art of the deal. Donald Trump, the Atlantic City building mogul; Michael Milken, an ex-con and former inside trader on Wall Street; Michael Eisner, of the Walt Disney Company, Motown executive Suzanne de Passe, Dr. William Cosby, and a Saudi Prince, were but a handful of the elite clientele Earl represented over the years. Needless to say, shortly after his windfall, Kurt was quick to enlist the services of his old friend, initially to counsel him, then after a generous offer, to be his top legal advisor and representative on a permanent and full time basis. He trusted Earl as one would a twin brother or sister.

  Being a new member in the exciting and very unfamiliar world of the wealthy, it was comforting to know there was someone around he could completely trust and confide in. It was even more convenient for him that Earl had relocated to the Tampa Bay area, though he continued to maintain a deluxe vacation home in New Jersey, too. Earl was one of the reasons why Kurt relocated to Florida.

  Looking for a city with corporate growth potential, and a lot less pollen, Earl had packed up his belongings two years earlier and headed south to Tampa, leaving Atlantic City, America's newest version Sodom & Gomorra, far behind. As a result of his successful role in numerous corporate mergers Earl had clout, influence, and friends in high places. And because of his wealthy and prominent clientele, Earl had become sort of a social fixture in the world of the elite during the two years he resided in Tampa.

  Though a conservative dresser, Earl wore the finest clothes money could buy. He drank the best wines and ate at the finest restaurants. It was pure delight when he learned that his childhood friend was relocating to Tampa. In a world where one has to constantly impress others, it was good to have someone around that you could be yourself with, sort of let your hair down with. Someone unpretentious and unassuming. Kurt was every bit that and more.

  The two friends often got together for dinner to chat, discuss business, and relax, often playing a challenging game of chess, as they often did as young adolescents growing up. Tonight was such a night. After a game of chess, the two began their conversation by discussing stock options, but it was Kurt who brought up Yvette. He knew the two could talk about anything under the sun, as friends often do, especially on a personal level.

  "Earl, have you ever met the woman of your dreams, I mean like your soul-mate, only to lose her to someone else?" Kurt asked briskly.

  "I have but one memory I can share with you,” he replied. “You see she already had a man. Matter-of-fact, a husband. And I lost her because of my big fat mouth."

  "What happened?" Kurt asked, as he grasped his hands loosely on the table.

  "Well, let me first say that the sun, moon, and stars rose and set with this woman, at least in my eyes," he professed, his eyes reflecting fondly the memories he now shared. "She was everything I ever wanted in a woman, Kurt. But there was that one little problem, as you already know. She was married."

  "I'm curious. How did you manage to get yourself involved with a married woman?" Kurt asked, with interest, then added, "I've known you for a long time, but you are not the type to take risks, not that kind, at least."

  "Normally I'm not but this affair kind of snuck up on me, real gradual-like, and before I realized it I was in deep, real deep. Besides, it was a bad marriage."

  “You say it kind’a snuck up on you, huh.”

  “Like property taxes,” Earl chuckled.

  "I know what you mean," Kurt bellowed, then pressed on, "Then, what happened?"

  There was a pause.

  "Hell, I betrayed her trust, that’s what happened," he answered, his voice revealing hurt for the first time since reflecting on his memories of Sharon. "We started out seeing one another on a regular basis, and believe me, it took every bit of five years to cultivate the kind of trust we felt secured and comfortable with, long before we even got to the point we could take the kind of risks people take when they are lovers, especially when one of the lovers has a spouse. One day we gathered up the courage to lay our feelings out on the table and evoke some ground rules. Well, believe it or not, it was I who insisted that whatever we said or whatever we did together would be kept a guarded confidence between the two of us, for obvious reasons. You know, it wasn't like she had to be told this stuff. I was just trying, more or less, to see if we were on the same page. One can never assume these things.

  “Then came that very special occasion, Christmas, I believe. Sharon presented me with a very expensive Gucci watch. It was a magnificent looking watch, diamonds and all. Well, guess what? I made the mistake of telling my brother, whom I just knew would never tell anyone else, or so I thought, but did. He told his trusted girlfriend, whom he thought would never tell anyone else, but did, and the girlfriend, of course, told her most trusted best friend, whom she thought would never tell anyone else, but did. You get the picture.

  “In a matter of time, three weeks to be exact, what I had revealed to my brother filtered back to Sharon, who exploded. And it didn’t matter that I tried to explain to Sharon that though my brother and I had always talked about almost everything, that he had always kept a shared confidence before, she was not having any of it. There was no excuse for why I violated her trust, she told me. That's all to it.”

  “That’s deep, man.” Kurt added, with a somber gaze.

  "You see, to Sharon, the point was not so much that my brother failed to keep a shared confidence. It was that I said anything at all. I tell you, Kurt, I felt like a complete ass that day. It was one of the lowest points in my life. Believe me, I learned my lesson well, though it nearly cost me the most important woman in my life, at the time."

  "You guys got back together?" Kurt was curious to know.

  "Well, it took quite a while for Sharon to put her complete trust in me again, but she eventually did...about a year and half later, if my memory serves me right. It was never quite the same after that, though."

  "I guess not. But Sharon was right. Trust is important in a relationship, any relationship," Kurt accentuated. "I will even go as far as saying it is everything in a relationship," he added.

  Earl chuckled reminiscently, then more seriously, "My advice to any man is this, and this is the bottom line - if she's worth it, keep her to yourself! Don’t let others ruin a great thing. And never be the one to ruin your good thing."

  "Well spoken," Kurt quipped. "It reminds me of a
n old saying by Norb Otto "None are so fond of secrets as those who spread them!"

  "Who's Norb Otto?"

  "Hell if I know," Kurt replied, then added, "But I remember the saying."

  "I think I’ll remember it too," Earl smiled. "Enough of me. Let's get back to your love life. It sounds as if you lost someone very dear," Earl said, his large hand wrapped around a cold brew he had just pulled from the refrigerator. "You know, it's been a while since we updated one another about our love life."

  "Yeah, you're right. And it's true. I did lose someone special. I dropped the ball on this one and big time but my hope is that she will come around and realize how much I truly care about her."

  "If you feel that strongly about her, then go after her, Kurt," Earl advised wisely. "I mean, it's not like she's married to the other guy."

  "Well, you have a point there," Kurt replied softly. “But I’m still married.”

  “That can be remedied. Just the same, if you love this woman, go for it! Put Leslie behind you.”

  After a pause, Kurt asked, “How’s your love life coming along?”

  “If I told you, you’d want to laugh,” Earl replied with a grin.

  For such a short visit the two dove deeply into their conversation. Kurt had mentioned his dilemma with Roxanne but Earl dismissed her as a possible money grabber. He remembered Roxanne from their school days. He warned Kurt to keep his guard up around her until she returned to Virginia with her husband. “Bed her, if that’s what she wants, and bed her down good…but never ever fall for her again, you got that?” Earl warned his friend.

  “It’s not even like that anymore,” Kurt said, his voice fading.

  After that, the two business partners and friends brought their dialogue to a close and Earl departed.

  Chapter 17

  It was one of those lazy Saturday afternoons everyone dreams of having. The skies were overcast, the dark rolling cloud formations huge. In the distance a summer storm was in the making. Inside Kurt's place, all was calm. With an early morning eight mile bike ride and refreshing warm shower under his belt, he had quietly dozed off, an open paperback lying across his bare heaving chest. There was a knock on the door, followed by several more knocks.

  Rising up, abruptly, from his sleep, he scrambled to compose himself, and get his bearings. Setting the book down, he headed for the door. It was Roxanne his neighbor who lived in the 36-foot Vectra Grand Tour motorhome, a Winnebago luxury model, on the lot next to his. She had the day off too and was bored to death. While watching a mediocre made for television movie she remembered her interesting and charming neighbor named Kurt. What a good time to be neighborly, she thought.

  "Hello, Roxanne," said Kurt, with a warm captivating smile.

  "Hello neighbor!" she replied, her eyes gleaming. "I thought I'd drop by to see what you were up to, and to chat. That is, if you aren't already preoccupied. I wouldn't want to impose or anything."

  "Oh no. Please, do come in," he said, stifling a yawn. "I was just reading a book and I guess I dozed off."

  "Thank you!" she beamed, as he held the door open for her to passed through.

  "Looks as if it's going to rain," Kurt said, gazing up into the vast gray ether before closing the door behind him. She nodded with a smile.

  Kurt could not help but notice the form fitting white shorts she wore and waist-length camisole with spaghetti straps and lace grommet front. By the way her camisole was loosely laced, exposing a fair amount of cleavage, it was easy for him to see that she was not wearing a bra. He began to wonder what exactly she had on her mind. Her voluptuous body, green eyes, even her walk, had a seductive quality about them today. And it brought to mind a previous visit, some weeks earlier. During that visit she coerced him into rubbing sunscreen lotion all over her back, thighs, and shoulders. The woman was a stick of dynamite waiting to explode.

  "Well, what have you been up to lately, Kurt?" she asked, as she sat down and crossed her shapely legs. Kurt seated himself on a swivel recliner across from her. Damn! What nice looking legs, he thought.

  "Not very much," he replied, surveying her jewelry for the first time, several gold wrist bracelets and diamond earrings, three on each ear.

  There was a loud crackling and roar of thunder in the distant skies.

  "You know Kurt, days like this are good for only one of two things," she proclaimed, with daring eyes that teased and hinted of unspoken promises of things to come.

  "And what may those two things be?" Kurt retorted, his pulse beating faster.

  "Sleeping is one of them," she answered, giving him a provocative and daring gaze.

  "And the other?" he swallowed.

  "I think you know what the other one is," she purred like a cat in heat, tearing her gaze from his eyes and training it on his crotch. Rising up from the sofa she took his hands into hers and guided him up off of the chair. She then stroked his heaving chest with her hands and sighed.

  "Forgive me Kurt, but I’m just so horny," she said with sultry bedroom eyes.

  Kurt was speechless.

  Turning herself around, she rubbed, then pressed, her firm round bottom teasingly against the bulge forming in his tight denims and took his arms and wrapped her slender form in his embrace. As he bear hugged her, she ran her fingers through her curly hair and cooed softly, sensuously. She was a bundle of passion, an animal burning with unbridled desire.

  Without fanfare or shame she grinded her bottom hungrily against his growing mass, still cooing sweet seductive animal sounds. Caught completely off guard by her spirited seduction, hot body grind, and intoxicating perfume, Kurt found himself kneading her breasts, cupping them in both hands, teasing and taunting them until her nipples grew hard and erect through the soft material. She was not wearing a bra.

  It had been nearly a year and half since Kurt had engaged a woman sexually. Right now, it appeared that he was about to be re-baptized in the waters of wanderlust and passion. No doubt, he was as weak as any man could be with desire. Roxanne’s devilish taunting and hot femme fatale body made his state of arousal that much more obvious. Her firm but soft bottom, which was still grinding against his manhood unmercifully, posed a challenge to him. But today Kurt was no match for this skilled temptress. Today he would fall victim to primal instinct.

  Without ceremony he slowly, but deliberately, unfastened the spaghetti straps of her camisole, removing the one barrier left between his eager hands and her heaving globes. And as he massaged and caressed her ample mounds, he left a trail of wet kisses along the base of her neck to just below her earlobes. Taking charge, he spun her body around until she was face to face with him. He eased her close to him, his hands gripping her small waist gently, and kissed her hard and long...hungrily. Then he pulled away, momentarily.

  "Are you sure this is what you want Roxanne?" he asked, his eyes gazing down into her steamy gaze, her face now glowing in a mixture of lightly beaded sweat.

  "Yes, and baby, I want all you have to give!" she quipped, with a sense of urgency in her voice, as she tugged at his trousers.

  Dropping to her knees, she took him. All of him! Like the skilled seductress she appeared to be, she worked her hot mouth all over him, adding intensity and passion to his already aroused state, an intensity and passion within his manly loins, which would remain unrivaled for some time to come. As she serviced him, she became more than steamed herself when she gazed up at him and saw his face stark in pure sexual bliss. His normally well-chiseled and masculine face was now a mask of pain, pleasure, and surprise, all rolled into one. This bewitching temptress, knew the effect she was having on him and it pleased her. Before long she knew she had to have him completely.

  Standing up she worked her fingers feverishly until her clothes hit the floor. She then helped undress him. Standing nude, both fine chiseled specimens of the male/female anatomy, the two about-to-be lovers embraced and caressed and ravished one another.

  Kurt took great liberty in exploring her body with his hot eager hand
s, sending ripples after ripples of pleasure throughout her soul and being. He squeezed her buttocks gently and tenderly stroked her thighs, and told her how beautiful a woman she was. He also told her how wonderfully soft she felt, how turned on he was. How she was his dream come true.

  By now she was ready to go nympho on Kurt, as she felt herself being engulfed in a current of erotic stimuli as his probing hands continued to set her off, one touch after another. She was burning with passion and desire, no doubt, and thought she had come close to passing out when he lowered his hot mouth and kissed her throat, the curve of her shoulder, and finally her moist lips. He was definitely a great kisser, she concluded, as he probed and titillated her mouth craftsmanly until she began to moan softly and cling to him tightly. Kurt, too, was overwhelmed by the pleasure he was receiving from her hot kisses. A kaleidoscope of erotic emotions rose in him as his heart pounded madly inside of him: anxiousness, fear, lust, pain, desire, anticipation, excitement, and sheer pleasure.

  Finally, the moment came when their eyes met and they both knew it was time to take things to the next level.Then as quickly as she had appeared at Kurt's door, she was gone, leaving Kurt to wonder what was going on. If he remembered anything at all, it was slipping back into a deep coma-like sleep.

  Peace of mind. It seemed to last an eternity until a loud nearby knocking shocked him out of the solitude he had just enjoyed.

  Rising up from the sofa Kurt appeared confused, disorientated. At first he did not know what to make of it. He did not know the time of day, nor where he was. His awakening had been abrupt. Seconds later he heard another series of loud knocks in the distance and a familiar voice.

  "Kurt, it's me!" a woman's voice announced. "It's me, Vanessa, your neighbor!"

  Walking hurriedly over to the door, he squinted into the peephole, waited for Vanessa’s face to come into focus, then opened it and greeted her warmly, realizing that what he had just experienced was nothing more than a dream, a fantaisie d'extraordinaire. One that was all too real to him, he mused. Now that his head had cleared of all the fog he suddenly realized that his dream was actually based on his attractive neighbor Vanessa, whose role as seductress in his dream was played by Roxanne. Talk about latent desires. The women in his life were definitely having an effect on him.