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The pennies pile up
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Night Out
The phone was an unwelcome distraction as Nancy rested in the darkness. She sighed deeply as she shifted her body toward the nightstand to prepare to take the call. "Nancy, this is James. We're supposed to be at the gallery at eight o'clock, I'm on my way to get you now."
She had completely forgotten about the show. This was a "be there" event. "Autumn Africanesque" always attracted the cream of D.C. society. Still breathless from her relaxing period of reflection she wandered toward the bathroom. Kashmir was happily sucking rug even before she got into the shower.
Nancy had been dating James for about four years. They were good for each other. She was safe enough for those dinners in mixed company. He appreciated the way that she could engage the policy wags without becoming so passionate it alienated potential clients.
She enjoyed his company to a point. The man had offered companionship and fun. He had a good heart, but as a lover, well, there were days when conversation was even better than sex.
The red silk faille glided over Nancy's body. She pulled her magenta hose into place. The iridescence of the weave complimented her firm thighs as the loose fabric of her dress framed her lower back seductively. Exposed skin rose up in a powerful statement as her shoulders, firmed by evenings in the gym, offered an imposing image.
She was hot. The sensual view she presented from behind was totally eclipsed by the radiance of her approaching profile.
Her arms offered a feminine firmness. Her breasts were supported by an upper body refined to perfection. The nipples, cloaked by the thin film of her bodice, spoke out with their firmness.
Nancy put the finishing touches on her hair, as her doorbell rang signaling James' almost anal punctuality. She paused before her mirror one last time, before turning out the light and heading down the stairs.
James made small talk on the ride to Adams Morgan. The gallery had attracted works from all over the country for the show. It was an opportunity to pick up some pieces. "It's also a chance to spend time with you," he said, as his small hand clutched Nancy's thigh. It was a timid, clumsy effort, but Nancy knew James was always a grateful companion.
She played back the events of the day, as the ivory-colored Lexus drove through the streets of Washington. Nancy kept thinking about Malcolm. She thought of her desire to stroke his thigh through the rich wool fabric of his navy Armani suit. She remembered his Adam's apple vibrating as he handled the Congressional aides at lunch. She wondered why a coworker's face dominated her thoughts as she softly caressed her body to unwind. Nancy never heard the words James offered as he parked the car.
The valet opened the door, as James gave his keys to the parking attendant. The Gallery was in an old house. The Victorian structure held history. It continued to exude the character of the roles it had played in the past.
They walked into the courtyard of the old home and joined the crowd quietly mulling around. Juried sculpture offered up images in bronze, granite, and marble. The modernesque epoxy resins on chrome and brass frameworks contrasted against the more traditional works. Nine grasping hands, frantically reaching upward toward the heavens, were carved in ebony. They carried the title 'Purgatory', the listed opening bid was 15-thousand dollars.
"James? James Watkins? It is good to see you." The voice was distinctive as James and Nancy turned to confront a familiar face. "Ed Roberts, how nice to see you again." The little accountant offered a handshake. Roberts blurted out, hi Nance. The reporter knew Nancy from her days on the House Transportation Committee staff. "Oh, excuse me, this is Melissa Simmons, she is from Wilkinsburg, Pennsylvania, near Pittsburgh." Roberts continued with the introductions and Nancy tried to make his guest more comfortable.
"I'm Nancy," she said, "Melissa, what do you do in Pittsburgh?" The reply surprised her, "I teach school." Nancy was gracious as she looked at the reporter's guest. She studied the woman, taking in her total appearance. Without saying anything she made a mental note, "That dress, is Ann Taylor all the way," she thought. "I saw it just last week in the window of their K Street store."
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The nickels are worth little
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Opening Bid
Nancy strolled the grounds viewing the sculpture. She was amused at the materials used in some of the works. Artists could find ways of turning the crudest junk into objects of beauty. Her dark shoulders contrasted against the deep red silk of her dress. She glided from one exhibit to the next distracting male viewers with her statuesque appearance.
"What do you think of the sculpture?" Nancy was startled by the vaguely familiar voice. She smiled as she turned to face Malcolm. "Oh, hi," she said, "I didn't know you'd be here." Nancy masked her pleasure at being this close to her colleague in a nonbusiness setting.
"Wow, look at yo," he said. "You are drop-dead fine!" Malcolm smiled as his eyes spoke volumes about his approval. "Ms.Smith, you are by far the loveliest work of art in Washington."
Nancy moved closer, looking up at Malcolm's face. She glanced over her shoulder to see James involved in some deep discussion with Ed Roberts. She admired Malcolm's casual appearance. The white silk of his collarless shirt was covered with a vest. The muted metallic tones of its geometric pattern caught her eye. He was so different from James.
"So Powell, will you buy or just look?" Nancy shifted the conversation away from herself, toward a safer subject. "I'm definitely buying," he replied. "I have an empty brownstone in Georgetown that is in desperate need. I liked the work at the entrance, you know the hands?" She smiled as they walked toward the entrance to an exhibition tent. "You mean 'Purgatory'? The opening bid is 15 thousand dollars."
Nancy found herself enjoying walking beside Malcolm's tall imposing form. She thought about how good they must have looked together. "Oh, well, I didn't say I would buy it." Malcolm laughed. He smiled at the pleasure at having misled Nancy briefly.
"I will actually buy a few pieces if I can," he said. "I want some prints, or maybe a statue. I also want a painting, I'm looking for something for the wall in my bedroom."
One word seemed to echo in Nancy's subconcious. She felt a twinge beneath her navel as the word 'bedroom' bounced around inside her brain. A rush of warmth rose up inside of her body as she thought back to her fantasy in the gym. She still savored the memories of her unwinding moments before she prepared for the evening's events.
Nancy stopped in front of a large acrylic. The painting's bold colors seemed to draw absorb her in the scene of conflict captured by the artist. The contorted faces of massed subjects were entwined in hedonistic struggle. The work was entitled 'Night of Madness'. "Do you know the artist?" Malcolm gazed at the painting, "Samuel Mbadji is from Burundi. He is a news photographer who covered the mess in Rwanda in 1995." Malcolm looked at Nancy. "He fights his demons by painting things that are too bizarre for his camera to capture with any accuracy."
Nancy was fixed on the faces of the women. Some were so gripped by terror that they seemed to scream out for her aid. She rested the toe of her slingback on the rail of the display barrier. "I want this piece," Malcolm said. His tone indicated his resolve to make the work his own.
"Will this look good in your place?" Nancy asked. "It is a very powerful painting." Malcolm looked into her eyes, as his hand brushed the soft warmth of her wrist. "Oh I'm sure it will fit in quite well, you will have to see it once I get it hung." Nancy found herself being drawn into his eyes. "I'd like that that a lot, my bid is in to be the first person to see it."
"Nancy?" The sound of her name jerked Nancy back to reality. "Nancy, I've been looking for you," said James as he walked up. His eyes were fixed coldly on Malcolm's face. "Have you seen anything you think I might like?" he said as he looked at the large painting. "Oh James, no nothing, I have seen something for myself though." Nancy grinned at James. She had a way of disarming his irritation with a smile. "James Watkins, this is Malcolm Powell, did I tell you he just started with the firm this week?"
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and the dimes won't buy a phone call anymore
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Unsettling Surprise
James kicked off his shoes and settled in on Nancy's couch. Kashmir stretched and walked away. The cat had his way of showing his indifference toward James Watkins whenever he ventured into Nancy's apartment.
Nancy's mood dictated the music. The Ramsey Lewis CD offered up 'Evita' as she folded her body next to James on the couch. He was pleased with the Senegalese batik he had purchased at the auction. The 15-hundred dollars for the woven linen cloth seemed reasonable. Its earthen tones would add a bit of life to his study.
James was always there for her. He would hold her and enjoy her closeness. It never seemed to matter that he just couldn?t satisfy her needs. Nancy could practically play out the pattern in her mind. A kiss, then a nuzzles to her right ear, James was so predictable. "Oh baby, she could hear his words mockingly playing out in her mind." She closed her eyes tightly and sighed as he began his customary foreplay.
Nancy and James had made love so many times before. She unzipped his pants, her hand roamed to the waistband of his white cotton briefs. She reached in softly stroked his body. He was her guy, but somehow she always hoped that there would be something better in her future.
The C-D changed, Nancy always liked Luther, but the song seemed to be the wrong one for the wrong time. 'Love the One Your With' filled the air. She felt James fumbling beneath her dress. His rough fingers poked tentatively at her thighs. She began to play back a hundred reasons why he was not right for her.
Nancy really liked James. He was adequate, he treated her well, but he just couldn't move her. She felt her head shift to the neck of the sofa. Her eyes were closed as she slowly began to respond the sensations sweeping upward through her body. A small soft hand, moved across her center, she cooed and moaned. Luther sang 'Killing Me Softly', and Nancy closed her eyes to drift slowly into desire.
The sensations grew stronger, Nancy shifted and squirmed. Her breathing was strong. She sucked in a big gulp of air through her teeth. Her hand clutched the wrist in her lap tightly. She moaned and shuddered. The feelings of arousal grew stronger inside of her. Nancy was caught up in the moment. She squeezed her thighs tightly together and bit down on her bottom lip. 'Endless Love' played softly, and Nancy allowed herself to be carried away on a wave of desire.
The apartment was dark, a light from her study offered up a soft glow. Nancy led James to her bedroom, The red skirt she'd worn to work was still strewn across the down comforter. She pulled her dress over her head. The athletic body displayed its contradictions. Her soft skin was the color of gingerbread. The muscles in her arms and thighs seemed almost chiseled. Her ample breasts offered an inviting image. The dark chocolate rings of her aereolae accented the protruding points of perfect nipples.
She enjoyed James' attention. His small mouth offered pleasures that brought her almost to the edge. Nancy focused on the music, she felt the closeness of her lover and she cooed softly as she enjoyed his familiar dedication to her needs.
Luther crooned softly. The full orchestration of 'Hello' took control as she felt her hands stroking at her lover?s head. The orgasmic feelings sweeping through her body were wonderful. Images rushed through her mind. They electrified her soul. Through her tightly closed eyes, she imagined eyes, lips, and the hardness of his body, and she enjoyed it all. The sounds of abandoned desire rose from deep inside her soul. "Ohh!" She heard her voice as it continued, "Oh yes!"
Nancy found herself gripped by intense waves of passion. She responded strongly to each caress. Her body offered its approval from deep inside. Her coos and moans dissolved into an uncontrolled babble of desire, "Oh,oh, oh Malc..."
Nancy realized what had happened. She pushed James away. Her body curled instinctively into an almost fetal position. She gasped to catch her breath as she pulled the down comforter tightly around her. James was silent beside her. He seemed confused by the abrupt change.
"I'm sorry James, goodnight!" James dressed silently and left Nancy to her thoughts.
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