Alice

She tried to see what he was seeing. The sliver of dark sky above the apartment buildings. The hazy lights from her neighbors' apartments across the street, made fuzzy by the rain on the windowpanes.

Noticing his African drum, Kwame picked it up and slung it over his shoulder. He said, "I am ready."

Alice glanced first at his face for confirmation and comfortable with what she saw there, she offered him her hand again and led him to the bathroom. Guiding him to the window seat across from the bathtub, she made room for him to sit among her candles and lotions. The bathroom was illuminated by votives arrayed along the edges of the bathtub and on the shelves above. Brazilian music filled the room. Alice told him to sit back and watch. As he watched her, he beat out a rhythm on the drum now between his knees, in time to the jubilant samba beat.

Alice closed her eyes for a moment, tuning into her inner dance and began to put on a show for Kwame.

With her eyes now open and locked on his, she reached down and began slowly to unbutton her blouse, starting with the top. As the smooth, sensuous fabric slid over her breasts it caught for a moment on her nipples, now hard as pebbles through the thin fabric of her camisole, and sent ripples up and down her body with furious intensity. She slid first one arm out, then the other and let it slide slowly off her shoulders. Her lace camisole soon followed the blouse to the floor. She slid one strap off a shoulder, then the other, tilting her head as she did so, into a sensual, teasing pose. She unzipped her skirt, let it drop to the floor, and stepped out of it.

Alice stood before him clad in her lace thong and delicate sandals, but nothing else. Kwame sat patiently waiting for a signal as his eyes devoured her near naked form. The rhythm of his hands on the drum seemed to match the rhythm inside of her. She was not yet ready to give the signal.

Alice was now completely in the passion of the moment, all shyness having been tossed aside with her clothes. She arched her back and then, sleek as a cat, dropped forward onto all fours. She undulated to the music, reaching back with one hand to slide her thong over her upraised bottom and gradually down her legs, in a provocative dance. Corkscrewing herself into a prone position on the rug, she tossed the twisted bit of lace from her foot. She lay still for a few moments, then let her legs fall apart as she began to touch herself. At first she moved slowly, thinking of Kwame's touch at the restaurant, mirrored by the way his hands caressed the drum. But then with increasing pace, she stroked her moist inner lips. Her hips rose spontaneously as she arched and moaned in a passionate dance.

Kwame pushed the drum aside, and stood. In a flash, he lifted his tunic over his chest, unzipped and stepped out of his pants and kicked his clothes aside.

"I am sorry, he said, as he brought his body gently over hers, "I can't wait any longer."

Alice gasped in astonishment as she admired the smooth line of his strong body and his burnt chocolate colored skin, against the ivory of her own skin.

"No, it's OK. Your timing is perfect."