Love Among the Unicorns

Josette had never met a man who was completely secure around her. She'd had a long line of rich and powerful lovers. But the relationships never blossomed because the men were either intimidated by her female strength, or too wrapped up in themselves to be worth getting to know. Now, she was riding in an elevator next to a personification of old fashioned chivalry wrapped in a perfect combination of self-effacing charm and good old fashioned male attractiveness.

Peter was tough, but sophisticated, powerful, but humble, and more importantly, downright gorgeous. He enfolded her in a warm and secure embrace -- one where Josette could always be herself. She was fully aware of that and it made her feel both happy and anxious.

Josette was reassured because she knew that this was a man she could give her love to. But it was also unsettling because Josette knew that there were very few men like Peter out there -- perhaps none. She understood that the next few hours would tell the tale.

They reached his room. Peter produced the key and opened the door. Josette walked past him and turned in the middle, the challenge written on her face. Was he man enough? Peter was a smart and sophisticated lover. He knew that bodice ripping would not work with this woman, So, instead he stepped forward and lightly embraced her lush body.

He said gently, "Look in my eyes." Josette's eyes flicked up to stare directly into his. There was a boundless intelligence in that look. The mind behind it was as powerful as Peter's. But there was more, as well -- an infinite need and passion was crouching there... just waiting to be given to the right man. And once that gift was given Josette's commitment would be total.

The two of them could avoid it no longer. This was the test. Still staring into each other's eyes... their mouths ever so slowly approached, like the first stirrings of an avalanche. Then Josette's lush lips met Peters firmly chiseled ones and the universe began to shift. Peter embraced Josette harder, drawing her into him. Josette kissed Peter with an uncommon ardor, lips constantly moving, nipping.

The pleasure was too much -- Josette moaned. It wasn't a shallow "fuck me" moan. It was a sound of immense passion like an enormous nucleus of lava just below the surface, waiting to erupt. Peter released her and they prepared for the next act, as if it were choreographed. Both were sophisticated lovers. They both knew how the dance was done.

It is classless to gobble a gourmet meal. So, Josette walked to the bed and turned. Then she began to seductively disrobe -- revealing her beautiful body one layer at a time... one exquisite sight after another. Peter's eyes never left her, savoring her. But rather than flying out of his clothes like some eager teenager - he slowly and gracefully removed his shirt, pants, and undergarments, folded them neatly and placed them on the nearby chair.

Josette lay on the bed, her bounty spread out in front of Peter, like a lush verdant landscape. One long smooth, shining leg was extended flat on the bed. The other was drawn up in that classic female resting pose. Peter slipped gracefully in next to her and leaned on one arm. He looked down at her gorgeous face, full of anticipation and then their lips met again. It was as if two planets collided.

Josette made a sound of sheer sensation and threw one arm around Peter's neck, while he began to map her body. He would proceed no further until he fully understood what pleased her and what didn't.

Josette's full breasts were not particularly sensitive but her puffy nipples were. Josette's moans told him that.

Peter ran his hand down her hard flat stomach, avoiding the obvious place and onto the bulge of Josette's quadriceps muscle. She shivered. He ran his hand along the back of her upwardly bent right leg. Josette groaned loudly and extended both legs. It was like a cat stretching - feet arched, bright red painted toenails pointed.

Peter judged that it was time. Josette was gasping now, like this was a matter of life and death. He climbed between her invitingly spread legs and paused. Peter's aim was to make Josette need it and want it. But Josette had had enough. She made an exasperated sound - grabbed and inserted him. The trip up her fiery passage was hot. Both Josette's mouth and her other orifice were blazing.

When Peter hit bottom, Josette's eyes opened wide and then the bright blue irises slowly disappeared in the top of her head. For the first time in her highly controlled life, Josette was lost in desire. It was an unsettling feeling. But Josette didn't fear her passions - she feared nothing. She grabbed the back of Peter's neck and dragged him down for another blistering, tongue swapping kiss. At the same time she slammed her legs around Peter, and began to buck furiously.

Josette was lost in the act. Her panting and incoherent noises were auditory gauge of her arousal. She lapsed into a frenzy of thrashing, uttering, "Oh mon Dieu," over and over. Josette never spoke in French. But the power of her emotions drove her back to her birth language.

Peter was on top. But he had no sense that Josette was helpless beneath him. They were both sweating from exertion and Josette's natural lubrication was so copious that Peter was having a hard time staying in her. In fact, he needed all of his strength just to keep them joined, because Josette was throwing him around the bed, writhing and beating back at him with frantic urgency. She wasn't going to leave her orgasm to anybody but herself.

Then Josette added one more novel sensation. She began to growl. It wasn't a grunt or a moan. Instead, it was a full-throated primal sound that raised some atavistic instinct in Peter, and he utterly lost it. He put his arms behind Josette's knees and spread her wide. She growled deeper. Peter pounded on Josette so hard that it almost caused sparks.

With that, Josette emitted a hypersonic shriek, and her hard body jackknifed beneath Peter. Her eyes were wide, staring at him, and her mouth formed an expansive "O," as her passage went wild. Then Josette frantically shoved Peter off with uncanny strength for a woman, and proceeded to flop around on the bed, face registering the stress of a person who was experiencing excruciating pain -- or pleasure.

Peter hadn't gotten his cookies yet. So as soon as Josette ceased flopping, he entered her again. She lay beneath him panting and exhibiting all the symptoms of a person in shock. But Peter's frantic movements soon relit Josette's fire and her hips began a furious up and down motion and she began to cry. It wasn't from sadness. It was as if her psyche was blowing off emotional steam.

Josette loudly hyperventilated and came again. In the meantime, Peter was pounding down the home stretch. Then there were a couple of moments of frenzied grunting and rutting noises and other behavior that appalled Peter the gentleman. At the same time, he was engaged in what felt like a series of life-threatening spasms. Meanwhile Josette was making odd gurgling noises of absolute feminine satisfaction next to his ear.

Peter rolled off and lay next to Josette, arm on his forehead, trying to get his breathing normal. She, in turn, looked like she had passed out, or was perhaps experiencing the same feeling of unreality. Finally, Peter said, sincerely, "I have never done anything like that in my life, have you?" He knew that was an ungentlemanly question, and that he would have not liked the answer if she'd said, "Yes -- of course." But he just had to find out.

Josette said wonderingly, "I don't know what came over me. I know what an orgasm feels like. But this was something different. It was like I had lost control of my soul. For a moment, I wasn't sure I would survive it. It absorbed my entire consciousness."

Peter could sense that what had just happened was momentous for both of them. He propped himself back onto one elbow and looked into Josette's deep intelligent eyes. He remembered a question that she had asked him in the Luxembourg Gardens in Paris, in 1945... "Would you like to tour around the garden with me?" Peter knew that question was the first step in a lifelong journey that would only end when death parted them.

*****

At 07:15 local time on Monday June 5th, 1967, 183 Israeli aircraft, virtually the entire Israeli air force, thundered into the sky and headed west, out over the Mediterranean Sea. Meanwhile, the Egyptians, were in the process of taking down their air defense systems.

As that happened, the Israeli Dassault Mirages swept in at treetop level and hit the airfields - where the entire Egyptian air force was parked, wingtip to wingtip. Fifty seven bombers, twelve fighter-bombers, and nearly a hundred and fifty assorted fighters, and helicopters, were obliterated in a mere three hours. The Six-Day-War was effectively won that morning.

The fighting on Ammunition Hill began at 2:30 AM. Acting on intelligence gained earlier that day, a brigade of Israeli paratroopers was pulled from the Egyptian front and they overwhelmed the Jordanian defenders of that hill. Then - upon hearing the UN was about to declare a ceasefire - the paratroopers pivoted toward East Jerusalem. After a short, intense fight, the storied old City of Jerusalem was in Jewish hands for the first time in two millennia.

EPILOG

My grandson had been hanging on every word as I finished my story. I said... "And that's what your grandpa did all those years. It wasn't glorious, there were no medals and definitely no recognition. But it was a good life knowing that I contributed to the wellbeing of my fellow citizens and my family."

Scott, was full of the arrogance of youth. He would never believe that the elderly couple he'd met at my retirement - a tall Englishman, still manly in his eighty eighth year, and a beautiful Jewish woman, compelling at age eighty, were the legendary Archangel and l 'Aiguille -- The Needle. Because, to a kid... nobody old was ever young, and faultless specimens of human perfection don't age. Yet, their love persists into eternity - and that's all that really matters.