Sunday, July 22, 2012

What a Wonderful Day we had Yesterday!

Dear Sweet Katelyn,

What a wonderful day we had yesterday ...

First that hot steaming shower together (the water was pretty warm too), lathering each other up, taking turns sitting on the shower bench while we scrubbed and massaged each others feet, with a delicate kiss at each toe to seal the deal, washing our hair, then drying and brushing it, playing with different ways we would wear each other's hair, picking out what to wear for the day.Then we quickly did our faces, dressed for a day of shopping, and jumped in the car for a ride to downtown Carmel. 

First, when we got there, I surprised you with an appointment I had sneakily made while you were in the other room, at the "Signature Day Spa":

We spent a couple of delicious hours together being massaged, rubbed with herbal scrubs, pampering every inch of skin all over our bodies, then they did our hair and nails and makeup and - girl - did we walk out of there looking and feeling like a million bucks or what? And in case you hadn't noticed, walking with just a bit more bounce in our steps, and every hot-blooded heterosexual male in Northern California was having a hard time not looking as we walked by! Okay, that's not a huge population, but we might have even given a few gay guys second thoughts about their choices <giggle>. With our big gaudy dark sunglasses, the boys couldn't tell whether we were noticing them or not, but honey, I was noticing, and it made me feel SOOOO good.

Then we hit the clothing boutiques, and tried on every single pretty thing that caught our eyes. depending on one another's impeccable taste to help us decide which things hit the "HOT" button. The hot pink halter dress, that lavender evening gown, my coral red gauze sun dress that laced up the plunging bare back, that white eyelet ruffled peasant dress we both liked, that very sexy grey knit dress with the silver lame accents you looked so slinky in, I also love those beautiful black thigh-high stockings I found with the climbing roses on the sides. We also found some very sexy bathing suits with completely see-through gauze sun dresses to wear over the top, And then we did the shoe stores: the black peep-toe pumps with red soles that say "I'm even hot underneath!", the sensible ballet-slipper-style flats with dainty straps across the top with tiny red roses at the buckles, some summer sandals, and then you and your spring-floral print sky-high platforms with the six inch stiletto heels and the ribbon ties up the ankle (have you no mercy for the poor boys my dear? Of course you don't! - giggle). A few ear rings, and bracelets, and hair pins for good measure, and that luscious perfume you tried on and we both loved, and, and ... oh it was just a fabulous shop-till-we-dropped!

So we finally "dropped" into a couple chairs to get off our feet, for a late lunch, almost dinner, in that very charming little sidewalk cafe with the wrought iron and flowers everywhere, shopping bags and boxes piled all around us, and that gay waiter that was so jealous of how good we looked. two or three mimosas each, a light shrimp salad, finished off with a few bites each of that sinful Marionberry-chocolate-mousse cake, oh my gosh, did that just make you weak in the knees or what? 

Then we made a quick run to the beach house to drop off our things and get dressed for an evening on the town. 

I took you to my favorite nightspot, A tiny place called Ricky's Garage. It actually was a garage once with all kinds of 30s 40s and 50s posters and vintage memorabilia all over the walls, but that was ages ago. The owner used to run a small recording studio. He built a stage and a small dance floor, a great big old saloon bar, and a fantastic sound system. It has little intimate booths, big open tables for larger groups, and a bunch of little two-tables for dates. The waitresses all dress in cute clothes that remind you of 40s and 50s styles. They somehow manage to book some of the best performers from all over the world, I guess because it's a fun gig to play. This night was a super-tight six-piece group doing jazz, blues, and Cubana salsa (my absolute favorite when I'm feeling sexy); a couple of horns, some excellent guitar, bass, and drums, a pretty girl singer / guitar player in a skin tight red dress, and a couple of the guys sang too. We had a few drinks, a couple of chicken tamales for a light dinner, and talked some more about the years that had passed since we'd seen each other last. Once, when no one was looking, I felt compelled to reach over, run my fingers through your hair and down your bare shoulder, take your hand in mine, and kissed your hand very softly, as a warm blush came over both our faces, which also seemed to warm both of us deep inside. 

After a while, we noticed a couple of very good looking guys sitting at the bar, and decided we would like to be asked to dance. It didn't take much, we both knew exactly what to do. First I laughed just a little bit too loud to get them looking our direction, and blushed with a quick darting glance in their direction, then you swiveled your head a few degrees toward them, swept your hair over your left shoulder delicately, and stole a quick glance with that delightful Mona Lisa half-smile of yours. Each gesture was so subtle they couldn't be sure if they saw what they thought they did or not. Then we proceeded to completely ignore them for the next five minutes while they screwed up their courage to ask the hottest two girls in the place for a dance. We giggled and laughed, talking a mile a minute, played with our hair as we talked, and had a tremendous time all by ourselves. I reached over and touched your bare shoulder again as we talked, and your hand came up and touched mine. All the while we both were sitting with our legs crossed under the table, one foot raised, making little flicking gestures with our pretty stiletto-heeled feet under the table to emphasize each point of the conversation. We both know that calls attention to two great pairs of legs in a fashion that - well - hardly seems fair to the male of the species. 

Sure enough, a few minutes later those very same guys sauntered over to our table, trying to look very cool, and asked if we would like to dance, we winked at each other with the eyes on the other side of the our profiles, where they can't see, and we said "Oh, ( hesitating just a second, looking at each other for mock approval), sure! We'd love to!", as if the delightful thought had never crossed our minds. 

They were both pretty good dancers, but I do think you had the better of the two. Honey, I saw what he was doing with your body on the dance floor, and it made me pretty hot to watch the two of you, in the snippets of glances I managed to steal while my partner and I salsa'd our way around the floor. I'm afraid I was at least an inch taller than my partner, even with just three inch heels, but he wasn't spending much time looking at how tall I was, He could not take his eyes off my legs and my ass; I don't know when my cleavage has felt so neglected! <giggle> It was so fun throwing my long curls around when he would twirl me. I so love that feeling, my skirt twists all the way around hugging my legs, as my hair flows all the way over one shoulder, my earrings tickling delicately at my neck, I flash a big smile to my partner to let him know the fun I'm having, and then he unwinds that twirl with another in the opposite direction and the whole feeling happens all over again the other way. As he twirls me around, his hand glides around my waist softly. I could feel his strength as he tossed me around the dance floor with style and confidence, I watched his cute struts and swaggers, and sneaked a peek at his tight little ass every chance I got. There is just nothing like dancing with a great guy to make you feel like a VERY sexy girl. 

We danced three numbers back to back, and then the boys joined us at our table for a round of drinks to cool down. We kept the conversation fairly light, about the music, the beach, what they do for work. My partner was pretty funny and sort of charming. Your partner said he was an IP attorney in Silicon Valley, and mine was an investment banker or something. 

I lost count, but I think we must have danced, I don't know, maybe twelve dances together with them? I was actually pretty impressed, even during a slow dance he held me very firmly, and very close, and it felt really good, but he was quite the gentleman the whole time. As it began to get late, you and I gave each other cues that it had been fun, but we thought we should go home alone. We told them we were kind of tired after a long day and we needed to get home. Then we said that we were going to be in town all week, and maybe we'd see them here another night this week? They looked just encouraged enough to not be crest-fallen. They walked out with us, told us good night as we got into our car, and we took off for the beach. 

The cool night air felt so refreshing after all that dancing. We drove home with all the windows open and let it wash over our faces and shoulders, not caring that it blew our hair all over. I reached over as we drove down the coast highway and our hands met in laced fingers, you squeezed my hand, and we just held hands all the way home without talking. When we got to the house, we padded up the front walk barefoot, silently, with our heels in one hand, and holding hands with the other. At the house, we found a few left over bites of that delicious creamy fruit salad, another few bites of the berry mousse cake from lunch, a cup of hot tea, and relaxed at the kitchen counter bar stools for a few minutes, sharing a few quiet whispers about the evening. In a bit, we drifted into the bedroom, arm-in-arm, unzipped each other, got out of our clothes, completely naked, and crawled under the soft covers in that giant feather bed. We both knew, that we were both thinking "Let's just see what the boys missed out on..." and spent the next hour or so, before drifting off to sleep, just relishing in the soft, tender, sensual pleasure it is to be delicately female, after an evening of raging pheromones. 

Katey Lyn, I am intensely heterosexual, but, somehow these times with you are different. It's like you've become, or maybe always were, an extension of me. It's like you know where every last nerve ending lives in my entire body, you know every thought and feeling before they come to me, and sometimes I think I know yours just as thoroughly. 

I love you so much Katelyn! I wish we had more than just this week together! 

Your ever-devoted, 

- Heather 

xoxoxoxxxxxxxx --- ohhhhhhh yessssss!!!

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