Just so you know, it’s not all darkness.

This little snippet popped up earlier this evening. It builds on a phrase my love used a few days ago. For some reason, it stuck in my head and I find it flitting through the grey matter between my ears, always in his voice. He said it casually but I promise you, I didn’t hear it that way (blush).  Anyway, this is just the beginning. I’m already imagining the complete piece nestled in the pages of another erotica collection. We’ll see what happens eh?   Enjoy the opening lines of yet ANOTHER idea.

KASTHURI-ENCENS

Cocoa Butter and Incense

She smelled of both the first time we met.  It was one of those dinner parties where a group of pseudo intellectuals get together to eat, drink pretentious wine, and talk of all things highbrow. I was there for the food mostly. My girl Siena is a great cook.  I knew most of her friends; none of them brokered much interest. As I said, pseudo intellectuals pretending to be adults. Despite being in our late thirties, none of us had quite gotten the hang of maturity. Oh well. I was willing to sit through the silly conversation for some of Siena’s home cooking.

I was sitting in the big lounger; plate balanced on my knees, drink resting on a coaster a top the small table to my right. There’s no bitch in my blood, but I do enjoy my wine. I had just loaded up my fork with that much awaited for first bite when SHE sat down next to me. There was just enough room so it must have been fate right? First thing, I get this whiff of cocoa butter, followed by the heady, spicy scent of incense. Not that cheap kind but the real deal you can only get from that tiny shop toward the back of that narrow street; where dude gets his oils and spices directly from the motherland.  Anyway, I know it’s the good shit no sooner than it hits my nasal passages. Sorry Siena, but your mac-n-cheese, ox tails, and greens are no match. I put the fork down, turning my head to take in the woman behind the scent.

Cocoa butter – you hear the name, smell it and think chocolate.  Or at least I do. This chick was chocolate. Smooth, silky brown. I knew just with the first glance that the skin all over her body was going to be soft to my touch.  She wore a short cut, natural hair kinked just right in a fade with a bang hanging over to one side. No make-up which is my favorite look.  She messed around and pulled those full lips into a smile showing clean, even teeth.  My interest in Siena’s candied yams and black-eyed peas faded into the brilliance of this chick’s eyes.

“I’m sorry.  This was the closest seat. You weren’t saving it for anyone were you?”

“No, not at all.”

“Hi. I’m Tempest.”

Her voice? Soft like cotton against the skin.

“Anthony.”

“Nice to meet you.  Now, if you don’t mind, I’m about to tear into these short ribs.”

“So you’re a fan of Siena’s cooking too?”

“Mmmm, mmm.”

I laughed a bit, she looked damn cute with that rib up to those luscious lips. I was jealous of the meat in her hands as she brought it to her mouth for another bite.  Decided the best thing to do would be to take care of the food on my plate lest I give my buttery brown seat mate the creeps with my open stare.

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