Nancy Imelda Schafer
"The Possibility Of Him"
I am going to Los Angeles.
Why?
To see a man.
A man that has somehow managed to creep inside of me. I have lots of built in warning bells inside of my head, and they are all going off at the same time when I hear his name.
Still, I am going.
I will fly to L.A. I want to be there in his town days before he knows that I am there with him. To get the feel of this strange place. I am a jersey girl, fast paced, wise cracking and certainly not a California girl. I think I'm going to vomit at the first sound of a Valley Girl, or at least laugh right in her face. They will laugh at me too when I open my mouth to speak with my Philly accent. Why this attitude? I don't know. Just the Jersey Girl coming out in me I guess. The Eastcoast girls are hip.
The Hotel Bel Air. It is beautiful. He spoke of it before. Room 318 is mine.
I will go out and rent a laptop PC. Prodigy will continue tonight at oh my gosh...his time of 11:00pm. It's usually my time of 2:00am.
Many things to be done while I'm here.
Looking for work is a priority. I am a fine Nail Tech and wonder if my "Master" status will carry over here. It has always been my secret fantasy to do the nails of my lovers wife. Oh what a rush. To know that I will have him in my mouth in a few hours, makes me giggle inside when I see that ring on her finger. Knowing that the matching ring on his finger will soon be wound around the hair on my head brings out right laughter to me.
I feel no jealousy or hatred towards her....I am glad she is like she is.
The way she is... is the reason I have him.
Again, laughter pours from me.
Being this mans mistress is going to be fun. Nothing I do in my life anymore, will be classified as work. If it is, I have no time for it. I love my job, so it is not work. He will be fun, start to finish. I know I can give him what he wants and more importantly, what he needs. I would never compromise myself in any way if I wasn't sure. He needs a Woman to love him, and to be in love with. A Woman to give up all his passions to. Listen to him talk about his work and stroke him when he is down and share his joys. To laugh at his jokes. A Woman to make love to for as long as he is physically able.
I am infinity....and always able.
The call will be his when to start and stop.
I am his whenever he wants me.
His Baby.
I once asked him; "What would you want to happen, if you could have a
lover, in your head, in your heart, and in your bed?"
"Tell me what you require?"
He replied;
"She must want me as much as I want her...
she must be willing to do whatever it takes to be with me."
"I cannot be just another one of her people."
"We would have to rendezvous in obscure places."
"We would make love like never before."
"She would be my only thought...
and I hers."
"If she is married, I would respect that fact as much as possible."
"Unconditional."
"I would not interfere with her marriage."
"If the mutual passion, unconditional love and feelings were there..
I would not hesitate to divorce myself from my current situation."
"But I would not remarry."
I asked him to define unconditional love....................
He replied;
"Unconditional love...
Accepting the other person with no plans ."
"No plots."
"No schemes."
"Accepting the situation unconditionally."
"Appreciating the time I had with that person for what it is."
"Not building more into a situation because my glasses were turning rose colored."
"By the way, I don't wear glasses."
I thought to myself.......I can do this.
I said back to him:
"My replies to what you just said?...........interested?"
"A man to be honest with me."
"Always."
"To make me laugh."
"To make me think about things I take for granted."
"To teach me his culture."
"His style."
"And want to learn mine."
"To see me whenever he could."
"Never putting me down."
"Advice."
"Beeps on my beeper during the day to let me know I'm in his head."
"To let me know I hear the screaming of his desires."
"Intelligence."
"A working Man."
"Not a rich Man."
"A working Man."
"One who will make love to me all day, and all night if we can."
"Bring me a rose."
"Act stupid in private."
"Tell dumb jokes."
"Tell me he loves me."
He said; "We could be friends Nancy."
I said; "I know that Anthony."
So with all that in mine, I flew to L.A.
I don't know what I will find here, but I believe I'll smell him in the air. The idea of calling him on his phone and talking to him here, without him knowing I'm there right under his nose is another thrill to me. If I were to tell him of my arrival, he would have the advantage. Right now, the ball is in my court. It must remain there until feel at ease with my surroundings. I must go to the Hills and look at the spas and salons.
What do California Men look like anyway?
I will find out.
What will I bring to wear? A Parriere dress, construction boots and a Bruce Springsteen handkerchief tied around my neck is a Jersey Girls look. Do the California Girls always lace their boots, Jersey Girls don't, not grunge mind you, but not just quite appropriate.
I like it that way.
But, when we dress, we can dress!
Do they wear fine gold chains around their boots or lace them with the chains.
This from a place that has no cheese steaks or funnel cakes?
I am not going to ever change myself for California.
I must keep that uppermost in my mind.
I am me first.
I call him on his phone. What a voice he has.
Temptation to tell him I am in L.A. is fierce, but I don't.
He tells me something like I am super busy and must get back to work. I wonder to myself, if I had said; "Anthony, look out your window baby, now what's right with that picture?". What laughter now. First of all, what is wrong with the picture? His terms, remember? It is fun to think about though. Tonight, something similar will happen. I must get that laptop for tonight. Off I go to get it.
At the hotel I sleep. Everything is 3 hours behind me. Good thing my days are wacked to begin with. I have no schedule in my life. I do believe however, that will change with the prospect of early mornings with my Lover. Not to mention a job.
Mornings.
Mornings.
Beep beep beep 51555 beep beep says my pager....awwww, he is thinking of me.
If he only knew.
I brought my CD getto box with me. I sit in the room on the floor listening to Everyman. Knowing that we will make love to it soon. Wetness rushes from me. I sit very still and enjoy what is happening inside my body. Imagine, hearing a song, the words, the music, the sweetness of it all can bring your lovers image right to the foreground in your mind. Will I ever be able to keep it from him on-line tonight that I am not in NJ? OK, OK, OK, I'll make this deal, I will not lie to him. If he asks me a specific question that demands me to tell him, I will not lie. I cannot deal with lies. Lies hurt, and build walls.
I will drive for hours. I love to drive, and drive fast. I hear about all the freeways here, lets see what this Mitshubitchi 3000 can do. As I drive I will try to think about what the hell I'm getting myself into. I try to consider what this man is really all about. He is deep, very deep and complex. But not evasive. He will let himself be exposed, but he like me is an egg. Handle too roughly, and we crack under pressure.
He once told me; "I have a hole in my soul you could drive a truck through".
(It Is A Dance We Did In Silence,
Far Below This Mornings Sun,
You in your life, Me in mine........)
He is filled with passion, with no outlet for it except his work. His work consumes him, and he likes it that way. He has used it for so long as his escape, (it's such a clever innocence, with which you show myself to me, as if you know how it feels to never be who you wanted to be) it is normal to him now not to receive the passion of the mind and body he so desperately needs. This is a crucial time in his life. He is a successful businessman. He has earned the respect of his industry. That feeds one of his passions. But he is so empty in others. (I thought I was a child) A Woman's loving touch. Her listening to him (until you turned and smiled) and genuinely caring about his talk. To hold him to her breast (I thought that I was free) and run her fingers through his hair sitting quietly.
To (but I'm just one more prisoner of time) share his music, (alone within the boundaries of my mind) which is as much a part of him as his soul.
(these days I'll sit on cornerstones and count the time in quarter tones t ten. Don't confront me with my failures, I, had not forgotten them).
I want to sit with him while he counts.
To be his Maria.
As I drive, I listen to him... he is Everyman....and Something Fine.
11:00pm, his time, I am on-line. The usual drone of hopefuls lunge at me.
I wait for The Dog.
My Dog.
"GravelDog" has entered the room.
My heart leaps from my chest, and I do feel a panic attack start to build.
"Evening My Baby" he says.
"Evening Dog" I say to him.
Now in a full blown panic attack, I beg him to make us a room. I ask him always how was his day, and hope that when I do, he feels my arms around his neck holding him close to me. He tells me and asks if I got his page. Yes!, I did. <giggles> "How was your day?" he asks, "Oh fine," I say in return. Off to another subject quickly. The conversation never makes me lie or admit to where I am. Whew! "I must sleep," he says. Goodnights and kisses are exchanged. It was a good conversation. I feel the love and desire from him. Thick and real. How I will make love to him. We sign off. I wonder if he is going to the mailbox. His letters at night after we speak are the very best. They are warm and have his smell and touch all over them.
His smell....his smell....his touch....soon I will know.
It is 2:00am. I grin to myself, thinking that it is really 5:00am.
I pray he goes right to bed and sleeps.
Sleeps soundly...
but able to hear the phone ring with a pager message.
I lay out all of my things on the bed.
A white long silk gown, a throw that matches it.
Giorgio Perfume, my scent.
I must be careful with my perfume around him, but this morning is different. I step into the shower and the water runs over me. My body is alive and on fire with him. Does it sizzle on my skin? I must laugh out loud, so hard that I double over. "Yes!" I say, like a Jersey Girl would. I loofa and shave my legs to silk. Rinse, rinse, rinse. Dry with a soft towel, spray lightly with Georgio and back into the shower to rinse again. Perfume should always be a compliment to me, in the distance, and a rinse over does just that. Dry again. Blow my hair. No curling iron, my hair is poker straight and refuses curl. I have learned not to fight it. Straight silky hair is just fine for me.
I called the front desk of the hotel, and told the clerk to please let up any visitors without a call to my room first. I think, what will the first time be like? Will we be so anxious that it is a fit of mad passion, or will we be silent? Both play in my head. I set my CD player on the table, continuous loop, Jackson sings For Everyman.
It is 3:30am.
I feel lightheaded and a little brazils.
I make the call to his cell phone.
I hear his voice, and a flood of wetness rushes from me.
I say; "Anthony, your Lady Of The Well awaits you at The Hotel Bel Air, room 318,
come to me."
4:41am, the phone rings.
I do not answer.
By some miracle of God, I managed to fall asleep.
The phone rings again, still, it goes unanswered.
Why do I hear the gentle knocks on the door and not the phone ring?
Wide awake or in dream, its hard to tell, I go to the door.
Opening it a crack, I see Everyman looking at me with wonder in his eyes.
Can he tell I just woke?
I can see he did.
He is beautiful.
Now what do I do next?
Open the door and let him in I think.
I unlatch the chain and step behind the door.
Oh My!
I cannot see his eyes, the room is very dim.
I take his hand in mine and walk to the side of the bed.
Millions of thoughts rush through my head.
His hand is huge. It is warm. It is rough.
Please god let his eyes be true.
Click....60watts shine on him.
I close my eyes for a second then look up into his face.
His eyes.
His eyes.
His eyes.
They are as pure.
..And when my silence replied, he took me inside.
I could feel him take me inside.
I could hear his heart beating.
His eyes were shining.
He reached down to my hands, taking them both into his, and kissed them together.
His touch.
He kept them there to his lips, never breaking the look in my eyes.
...But words and music will never touch the beauty that I have seen....
looking into you.
I opened my hands and embraced the sides of his face.
Tracing a line across his forehead, down his nose to his lips.
His hands ran down the sides of my arms to my waist and pulled me to his mouth.
A sweet, tender kiss.
Gentle, like an egg
His lips soft, warm.
His taste.
We stare into each others eyes.
A Taste Of Something Fine Awaits Us.......
Words to describe the taste are not necessary.
\----We know----/
\---------------/
\-------------/
\-----------/
\---------/
\-------/
\-----/
\---/
\-/
I want to lay in his arms and say the words of our song to him.
I want to say the words to all the songs to him as we make love.
I do so enjoy these times you've come. ..
and live for the days you will come again.
We sing together:
In the time we've known that we each are a part of one another
We've lost as much as we have won
And as our lives have grown, we have found that it only brings us pain
To hang on to the things that we have done
Still I've loved the times you've come
When you went away
Taking all that I built my false road on
I dropped my life and couldn't find the pieces
Now you come and go and its hard but I feel my strength returning
Well see how far this new road reaches
You see a little more each time we come
But everybody's gonna tell you its not worth it
Everybody's got to show you their own pain
You may try to find your way up around it
But the need for love will still remain
Now were lying here so safe in the ruins of our pleasure
Laughter marks the place where we have fallen
And our lives are near so it wouldn't occur to us to wonder
Is this the past or the future that is calling
You Know I Love These Times You've Come.
You In Your Life...
Me In Mine...
(.......We Have Begun.)
He said once to me;
“I want you to be there for me.
To be my Lover and confidant
To be a bright light on a dark night for me
To be my friend first
To listen to my jokes
And laugh at them once in a while
No more paging
No more long distance
Distance kills
To be there
I like you Nancy
But I also Love you.”
I Love You Too Anthony.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
AUTHORS NOTES
Written By:
Nancy Imelda Schafer
©
Completed December 2, 1995
11:55pm (EST)
--------------------
Written about The Dog
And the possibility of him
NIS
120295
Credits:
Lyrics from the Albums are italicized
By Jackson Browne
Written By Jackson Browne
“Saturate Before Using” 1972
“For Everyman” 1773
Please use your BACK button to return to previous page.
Copyright Notice
©
Only work written by the ORIGINAL AUTHOR are accepted onto this site.
Having received this writing freely from the Author stated above, it is understood between myself and the Author, that it is his/her own original work. In receiving this original work, the Author stakes claim of ownership to myself and the world, the contents and title of the work he/she submits to these pages of my site.
The work above is owned wholly by him/her.
This notice extends to all of the entries contained on my site,
and all it's pages therein.
Member of the Internet Link Exchange