An Ecstatic Rendezvous
A very handsome but shy man yearns to have a one-night stand with a sexy woman. One day he decided to step out of his comfort zone and gained enough courage to ask a girl out.
Her aura, spiced by her exquisite scent, so full and strong, was really driving me wild, my breath heating, my juices simmering. The whole scenario was quite overwhelming. The moment for the grand ceremony had come. I took her by the hand and lifted her to stand facing me. “We’ll have a romantic undress,” I said.
“The prelude for our symphony,” she said.
“As an impassioned Mozartian—and I assume you are, too—I just love well-orchestrated sonatas of love! I’ve been yearning for someone with your finesse, dreaming about it for ages!”
I had chosen non-laced shoes to avoid any possibility of fumbling, my jacket and socks were no trouble, and I placed all the garments aside of the main action area to be. Then, Sandra skilfully thumbed my buttons and peeled off my shirt and vest, feeling the muscles of my torso and my arms as she did so. I stood before her, proud in my tight black bikini briefs.
Her face lit up. “Oh, darling, you’ve got such a wonderful physique, I’m so proud of my catch!”
“I’ll do the same for you, so for the next stage of revelation, let me take your blouse off first.”
It was off-the-shoulder, flimsily, casually and alluringly worn. The motion of my quivering thumbs echoed the firmness. The three pearl buttons undid with ease to make a gracious parting. Then, my hands went under its top, and eased it off to reveal her glorious firm sun-tanned shoulders and her willowy back.
“Okay, part two. Now, I’ll undo your skirt.” I peeled the zip along very slowly with my left, feeling her hips as I did and edged it down, with my hands smoothing her bottom and then squeezing her firm thighs. Sandra gave a knowing smile and a giggle.
“Is that nice?” This was the next delicious stage of revelation, to see the full shape of her legs. I love elastic-topped stockings—so much more alluring without suspenders. I touched their tops and felt her firm flesh beneath them. Her thighs and calves had an absolute sensual iridescence.
“Now, off with them, darling. I want to see your lovely legs as they really are.” The stockings looked so delicate, I didn’t want to risk laddering them. Sandra had to do that with her faultless firm but delicate hands. Supremely at ease with her aura, she lowered them with tender, loving care. Now, with matching caresses, we felt each other’s thighs and calves.
“It’s great that we’ve kept up our fitness routines in anticipation of the big day,” she said. “You don’t drink beer either, do you? I really appreciate that.”
Her silky white briefs gleamed with promise—their own special luminosity—it felt a ballerina’s pirouetting, but frozen motionless.
As the tactile sensations built up, my breath was heavy with suspense, laden with the weight of long-repressed desire, at last so blissfully released.
“Now, darling, remember all your favourite scenes on film and video. You’re going to re-enact all your star idols’ peak moments when you desperately ached to be there in the middle of the action. Now, we’re going to be our own celebrities and super-directors, bringing all those lovely visions beaming into real life. This scene is going to make the perfect fusion of the boudoir and the beach. We’re going to enter the deep embrace of the ocean of love. Our fantasy beach, our fantasy sea, is beckoning us. Let’s put on our bathing costumes now. I’m a turn-on in briefs, and you are in that gorgeous underwear, so let’s go on to the next pieces of costumery.”
#1: An Ecstatic Rendezvous is a shorty story about a young man wanting the courage to have a one night stand with a good looking woman. This was a short, slightly more interested read by David Russell. I thought it was well written, with a decent storyline and a good set up. Since this is such a short read, I won't dive into the book, even a little bit, but I will say I thought this was quite interesting. I give An Ecstatic Rendezvous a THREE OUT OF THREE STARS. If you’re looking for a short read and looking for something completely different than the average erotica I suggest you try one of David Russell's books.
#2: This is an interesting short story, told in the first person from the male protagonist’s point of view. I enjoyed how it was somewhat like one of those “tell a secret” confession letters, but still rich in detail and descriptions. There’s quite a bit of internal discussion – as one would expect from a first-person tale – and I was pleased that for a change we got to see and experience everything from the man’s point of view. It was different to how a woman would have told the story, and I found this made the story fresh and quite interesting.
I found the dialogue a little stilted, almost oddly formal in places considering it was a sexual experience—for example “At last, your courage has fused with your admirable circumspection”. I wondered if this was written on purpose—to add to the air of an old film, or perhaps the unreality of a fantasy come to life. The slight off-beat language jarred me now and then, but wasn’t strong enough to make me want to stop reading, and certainly didn’t dampen my curiosity about how it would all end up.
I was also a little surprised at the dichotomy of the protagonist. In his opening sentence he declares “Yes, I’m a narcissist and proud of it”, yet he’s too shy to ask a woman out for a date. He’s spent months exercising and buffing his body up to perfection, but can’t gather the courage to ask a still-life model out for dinner and a date. While this paradox confused me, it also intrigued me. I’ll admit to still being a little confused even by the ending, but as this was his first experience and he later explains further about his shyness, I came away with the feeling that the protagonist was a lot more complicated than we could get to understand in the briefness of the story.
This was a very different style of story and probably won’t be everyone’s cup of tea. Still I have to admit I really enjoyed it. I liked the different perspective, the feel of a romantic confession and the fact it was unlike practically every other story I’ve read. It’s fresh and different and that alone made it well worth the read. There is one very tastefully written sex scene, quite graphic but nothing I found remotely offensive. I think readers interested in a take on a man’s sexual experience and fantasy, or those who enjoy “confessions of” style tales should find this quite enjoyable.
Now check out the Sequel
The hero, Percival arranges a date through a contact mag. He and Darlene have a rapturous scenario, handled with superb finesse and supreme command of the wardrobe. He finds some hints of her complicated past. Before and after the encounter, he is eyed up and accosted by malicious-seeming men. The sense of an underlying hornet’s nest is scary, and immediately detracts from the euphoria, which does finally prevail.
"After his experience with Sandra in An Ecstatic Rendezvous, our man is ready for another tryst and arranges to meet Darlene for a date. With his penchant for fantasy stories and dress-up scenarios, his second experience is a similarly controlled wooing that he soaks in with vibrant relish, though Darlene's checkered past adds an element of danger he had not foreseen. Nice sequel to An Ecstatic Rendezvous."
~Midnight Attic Reader
At last, the sun peeped through the cloud-blankets after all those overcast days. I needed to be refreshed again. It had now been quite a while since that last fabulous foray, which had so beautifully realized my dreams, and convinced me unreservedly that I had overcome that fumbling clumsiness to attain tactile fulfillment. It had flushed me with a surge of my unrealized teenage —all those things I’d missed in those formative years, now the gaps and fissures filled in— made me feel I’d both frozen the body and mind in their freshness, and kept them pulsing, too. The intervening daily routines had leveled comfortably down, then dullness loomed again. So, it came to me in a flash, with light shards shimmering from my stepping into a puddle—I desperately needed a replay, a recharge—activate the spark plug.
Indeed, there was a twinge of regret coursing through me about having mislaid Sandra’s number. It was so stupid of me to throw out that precious piece of paper in that fit of impulsive spring-cleaning, which often has the effect of unearthing old snippets of sentimental value, and reconnecting with submerged, valid threads which are then slotted into reflective order. Not all was lost, though. No one is finally unique, no matter how exceptional she appears. There are always others. Just cast an eye on those other fish in the sea, those beautiful swathes milling through the shopping precincts, that visual, tactile kaleidoscope, brushing off on me, making me feel rejuvenated.
For some time now, I kept that next in preference, special, alluring phone number lying alluringly in the top of my desk drawer, together with its seductive picture, throbbing in that electric corset, with a bit of plastic sheen, but not too much. The photo was in the back number of Rendezvous magazine. It was Darlene, her firm breasts feeling like power switches throwing out energy to my delicate touch. Some evenings, I alternated between looking at her picture, watching Madonna’s eroticavideo and looking online at the catalogues of retro lingerie. It was a turn-on flashback to those relics of a repressive era relating in some way to current tastes for bondage and corporal punishment— probably now that the horrid past is now at a safe distance, for some of the people, some of the time.
Everybody is constrained a bit by workaday routines, but the right amount of delay never fails to add relish to any quest.. Contrast is essential to any definition. Going too fast always detracts from the final effect. So there was a happy, breathy anticipatory gap of a few days, which honed the expected savour to perfection, the oven simmering at a low heat to prepare the exotic dish. All through it, I was flooded with a rapturous cocktail of reminiscence and anticipation. It started with the exquisite euphoria of my first, unpremeditated, off-balance one-night stand. This included an opening, long drawn-out kiss, tiptoeing back to the flat, the body revelation, the love, the bath, the idyllic park walk, and the farewell. It was the perfect memory, frozen expressions of affection and always there for replay in my mind in times of stress and depression Now, with the extra bonus of all those breathy film and video scenes to spice it up further, every thought was a metaphorical caress. Cameramen have a good time, which must be great to touch with the eyes, and great to have the senses melt into each other.
b. 1940. Resident in the UK. Writer of poetry, literary criticism, speculative fiction and romance. Main poetry collection Prickling Counterpoints (1998); poems published in online International Times. Main speculative works High Wired On (2002); Rock Bottom (2005). Translation of Spanish epic La Araucana, Amazon 2013. Romances: Self’s Blossom; Explorations; Further Explorations; Therapy Rapture; Darlene, An Ecstatic Rendezvous (all pub Extasy (Devine Destinies). Singer-songwriter/guitarist. Main CD albums: Bacteria Shrapnel and Kaleidoscope Concentrate. Many tracks on You Tube, under ‘Dave Russell’
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