Coffee with Calli

I was at the local coffee shop and bookstore downtown and it was open mike night. I had a pretty good buzz going sipping little heated sake cups filled with Apple Korn and nursing a beer while listening to folks recite their poetry. Many were nervous, some of it was really bad, but good portion of it was downright noteworthy. I doubt many people appreciated just how talented some of their neighbors were in this small Midwest town.

I was really starting to groove on the poetry and jazz when my eyes landed on a dark and mysterious woman seated on the opposite end of the small stage. She was dressed in a smart black dress with stocking that were thigh highs, because you got a quick flash of tan skin every time she crossed and uncrossed her legs. Her raven hair was shone blue under the stage lights as she took her place on the stage after a few more readings. She sat perched on a stool and her body seemed to shimmer as the light bounced off her curves that were in all the right places. She had a twelve string acoustic guitar beside her, but before she broke into song, she recited a bit of Byron and I could not pull my eyes from her ruby lips as she read a snip of his poetry:

"She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes"

You could here a pin drop in the room. Even the people working the coffee bar stop what they were doing and walked around the counter to hear Calliope play. She played an acoustic version of an old Jimi Hendrix's song that she could have inspired:

Well she's walking through the clouds
With a circus mind that's running round
Butterflies and zebras
And moonbeams and fairy tales
That's all she ever thinks about
Riding with the wind.

When I'm sad, she comes to me
With a thousand smiles, she gives to me free
Its alright she says its alright
Take anything you want from me, anything
Anything. . .

She played a few more songs after that, but that first song had me so bewitched I was in a trance. All I could do is stare at those crimson lips, swim in her dusky eyes, and watch her adept fingers slide up and down the fret board of her guitar and wish she were touching me in the same way.

She finished her set to an uproar of applause, and nodded politely at the crowd as she packed up her instrument into her gig bag and slung it on her back. She walked over to my table and dropped a single red rose there and a small paper envelope and then strode out of the shop and down the street. Strode is probably the wrong word. It is more like she floated. I looked down at the flower and opened the envelope to find it was the card key to a midtown hotel.

I sniffed the rose, and could smell her essence. I can't really explain it beyond just a knowing that I had. There was timelessness to her beauty that called to me. I would be drawn to that hotel like a moth to flame. I knew that once I went through the lobby of that hotel and traveled the hall that her room was in, I would arrive at the nexus of fantasy and pleasure. I had to do it.

Every fiber of my being resonated with the need to be with her. She was the dragon I chased. Even as I drove to the hotel, I could taste her. I was thrumming like a perpetual pitchfork. Every nerve ending in my body was on fire with keen expectation. I was a warhead on a mission. My cock was already a divining rod that led the way to her room and I didn't really care who saw it as I walked through the lobby to the elevators. Hell, I didn't need an elevator, I could have scaled the wall; the adrenaline was crackling inside me. When she opened the door, I was speechless. She was Venus. She was Aphrodite. She stood behind the door and all I could see was one, long, sculpted, graceful leg angling out of something soft and fluffy. I could not take my eyes off the black lace of her garter and thigh high hose. She had shapely legs that beckoned me. Then I looked up and saw her hungry smile and knew I was stepping into oblivion. In fact, the room was painted in red light. She had transformed an ordinary hotel room into an elegant parlor of pleasure.

She sensed my thrumming tension and immediately put me at ease. We talked about a number of things and finally I regained some composure. She was very conversant in any number of topics. When she sensed that I had returned to earth she began to gently touch me as we talked. Soon that led to soft, wet kisses. Calliope moans ever so slightly when she kisses. It is barely perceptible, but it lingers there stirring something inside you that you didn't even know existed.

We helped each other get more comfortable and reclined on the bed. Her fingers roamed over me like a skilled musician playing a Stradivarius. We entwined, kissing, licking, and touching. Our bodies slowly drifting to and fro on a very romantic tide. Her body tasted like summer blossoms and I savored every inch of it. I descended as slowly as possible fighting off the urge to devour her with hungry kisses. I sucked at her gumdrop nipples for a very long time and she wrapped her fingers around the tip of my cock, matching the same rhythm, creating a type of sexual synergy that was enthralling. My prick felt larger and more swollen than what seemed possible, and all she was doing is teasing the tip slightly with the tips of her fingernails.

I then slid further down and took in her scent. Her excitement was palatable. The musk filled my nostrils and I could taste her sweet elixir even before my lips and tongue made first contact. I darted my tongue in and out and around her labia, only flicking her clitoris for brief moments, spending more time tracing circles inside her thighs and along her pink outer lips. She moaned and writhed on the bed and begged me to eat her pussy. I started kissing her thighs and running my tongue along the area where flesh met lace on her legs. She gave out a brief shudder, and then hooked her feet behind neck and drug me forward into her secret garden.

She was so wet; I was covered with her excitement from my chin to my forehead. The more I churned at her sluice, the more honey flowed out. The sheets were drenched with her excitement and this drove me into a frenzy of nibbling, sucking, and licking. Then I wiggled a finger deep inside her as I sucked her clitoris gently into my mouth and held it their while I carefully rubbed the thick hood of flesh guarding her G-spot. I coaxed the muscles into opening up, and slip past the ridge and was rewarded with several intense thrusts of her hips. I covered her entire vulva with my mouth and sucked her labia and clitoris into my mouth and began to hum "Toccata and Fugue in D minor." I alternated fucking her with my chin and nose pausing only long enough to flick my tongue against the bud of her swollen clitoris. Soon my fingers and tongue were working in tandem playing out the cords of this opus on her G-spot and clitoris as I held her labia in my mouth and hummed the harmony creating a vibration that made her explode. She wanted to stop, made I carried her through two more orgasms. The song had more movements, but I could feel the muscles in her hips and thighs quivering, so I relented.

She rolled away and I lapped up the juices that were all over my chin. She meanwhile was gasping for breath. We kissed and hugged for several long moments then she smiled at me and murmured, "your turn."

It did not happen fast it happened slowly. Many young women do not have the slightest clue how to suck a man's cock. Calliope is an artist. Strike, that--Calliope is a grand master. Her mouth is incredibly skilled. She is so in tune with what a man's soul logs for. She even knows how to position her body, not just for the perfect leverage and access, but also to give you a perfect view of everything she is doing to you. Be forewarned. There is a weird disconnect that happens when you feel her pliable, warm wet mouth sliding all around you and you are also watching every move of her lips, tongue and jaw. Your synapses simply start to misfire and you lose touch with reality for several flickering moments. For me, it was as if St. Elmo's fire was flashing around the room. I nearly passed out.

Soon I found myself giving into the oral pleasure she was showering me with and became lost in the seduction. Before I knew it I was thrusting roughly in and out of her mouth and she started to gag. I felt like a creep and pulled away and began to apologize. She started giggling wickedly and fixed me with a dusky stare, "I love choking on a man's cock. In fact, I want you to fuck my face."

This set me back. I had no clue what she was talking about. She saw this and chided me lightly and directed me to stand on the side of the bed. Then she rolled over, arched her back, lifted a pillow under her neck and moved her mouth onto my cock upside down. It was a swirling inferno. I began to get dizzy, but managed to keep standing as she pleasured me. She stopped suddenly and it felt like what I figure a heroin addict experiences when he has no needle.

"What are you waiting for? Start fucking me." I was confused and started to reach for the condom and move to the other side of the bed. She stopped me and grabbed my ass in both hands and started to show me how to thrust all the way in and out of her mouth. She tipped backwards and her throat opened and I could feel the hood of my cock go to her gullet. She simply gurgled and took all of it, slapping my ass to encourage me to thrust more forcefully and faster. Soon I was jabbing in and out of her mouth, but still I did not cumm. I could not seem to muster the eruption that needed to lance out. She had a wistful look on her face when she stopped and knew I needed to simply make love to her. I later learned that I should not have held back. It seems Calliope loves the taste of her lover's cumm. Stupid me.

We made love in a number of different positions and at one point I looked down and it was the look on her face more than any of the motion or sensation that sent me to brink. My orgasm was blasted out in thick spasms. I shuddered and collapsed on the bed. Later we showered together discovering our bodies moved even better under water. She had ordered exotic coffee and breakfast and we enjoyed it casually in bed, resting, talking and glowing. She drifted off to sleep and I looked down at her repose and Lord Byron's words came back to me:

"So soft, so calm, yet eloquent."