An Ecstatic Rendezvous
Blurb:
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.
Excerpt:
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.”
Reviews:
#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
Darlene
Blurb:
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
Buy
Links
Excerpt:
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.
%2BBathers.JPG)
Author
Bio:
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’
Find
David Here
%2BSOV%2B2-Wind%2BWalkers.jpg)
.jpg)
.JPG)
