Ballet Slippers and Wine
by Angela Shortt

Note on the pillow: John, I didn't want to wake you. You look so cute when you're sleeping! I have to run to my office to pick up some files before I go to court this morning. I left some coffee and breakfast in the kitchen for you. Call you later. Evangeline.

Last night, her place, after dinner and a movie. Contemporary Ikeda, nothing out of place. Her bedroom, a palette of soft pink, blue, yellow and beige. Large stuffed cat nestled in a pile of pillows on her queen sized poster bed. More a little girl's playground than the sleeping quarters of a grown woman. She smiled as she gave him a tour of the apartment, ending with the bedroom. He moved close to her bed, amused.

"You've never heard of 'Hello, Kitty?" She sat down on the bed and looked at him, her dark eyes sparkling.

He looked at her, grinning, and picked the toy up. "What do you do with it?"

"She's my friend. I tell her everything."

He arched one eyebrow at her, then examined the cat closely. "You talk to stuffed animals? What's wrong with this picture?"

She snatched the toy away from him, still smiling. "Don't say things like that; she's really sensitive. Besides, she got me though college and law school. We go back a long way."

"A high-powered lawyer like you talks to stuffed animals? I hope you don't share that information with a lot of people." He sat down on the opposite side of the bed, watching her. Damn, he thought. Those eyes, those hands, those thighs, that ass.... He looked around, trying to distract himself. Bronze ballet slippers on her nightstand. "Yours?"

"Yeah. Daddy had them bronzed right after my first recital. I didn't even know he had them until...after his funeral." She looked away quickly, then stood up. "Okay, how about that drink? I have some really good Merlot...."

She looked at him. He was gazing at her, understanding. He knew that she had picked up a small piece of grief that had been tucked away in a box marked "private", and she wasn't ready to open it. At least not yet.

"Merlot sounds good." Followed her into the kitchen, opened the wine while she retrieved the glasses. Small talk, laughter, then a toast.

"To friendship", she said.

"Yeah." He watched her as she took a sip.

"What's wrong?" She put her glass down on kitchen counter, looking worried.

He put his glass down, picked her up and carried her back to the playground. Her sudden gasp, then laughter that sounded like music.

"John! The wine..."

His eyes stopped her. She turned away, tossing her pillows and the quilt on the floor. He came up behind her, arms around her waist, kissing her neck.

"You don't like to drink much anymore, do you?" A sweet smile as she turned around and began to unbutton his shirt.

He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her, his tongue making its way into her mouth. A moan escaped her throat; her knees began to give way. He pulled her dress off in one smooth motion, then let her unzip him. Take it easy, he told himself. You want this to last all night. He watched as she unhooked her bra, releasing her firm, perfect breasts. His hands shook a bit as he slowly ran his fingertips across her nipples. They stiffened with his touch, and she began breathing heavily. She grabbed his right hand, then led him to the bed. He took off his underwear then laid on top of her, kissing her all over her face and running his fingers through her hair. Feeling him throbbing between her legs, she reached down and gently caressed him , causing him to catch his breath sharply.

"Not yet," he told her.

Her eyes were soft, dewy. "Okay."

His hands and mouth explored her entire body--shoulders, arms, hands, belly, thighs, legs, feet. She began moving her head from side to side as she clutched the sheets. Finally, he slid her lace panties down her thighs and legs, then letting her kick them to the floor. He held her up off of the bed, poised like a bow. Then he opened her legs, kissing the inside of her thighs, slowly working his way up. She cried out, but he was firm, insistent with his tongue. She tried to grab his head; stop him before she exploded into a sobbing mess. He ducked her hands and continued making her clitoris throb. She was shivering uncontrollably and whispering his name, over and over. When her body arched toward the ceiling and once she began to wail, he slipped inside of her. He couldn't hold back a groan of exquisite pleasure as he plunged into her velvety wetness. He felt almost dizzy as he felt her push her thighs up to meet his movements. She wrapped her soft legs around him and massaged his back, while he moved inside her, amazed at how the sounds they made together sounded better than a Coltrane song to his ears.

"John...I can't...hold on...anymore!" She was panting and lifting her thighs high off the mattress. He held the fire building in him, and he plunged even deeper inside of her. She began thrashing and shivering as he moved faster and harder, like a shovel digging deep into a mound of soft, moist earth. Evangeline shuddered, released an aria of ecstasy and held him tightly to her as he exploded with a loud groan.

Drenched with sweat, they kissed and stared into each other's eyes until sleep overcame them.

He didn't even hear Evangeline slip out of bed in the morning, take a shower and get dressed. He thought he had been dreaming about making love to her, and that the delicious smell of coffee brewing was just a part of the dream. Slowly, he opened his eyes and looked around the pastel-colored room. It wasn't a dream. Then he saw the note. No. It was definitely real.

One Life to Live©ABC
Ballet Slippers and Wine by Angela Shortt©2004
All Rights Reserved.

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