PARALLEL LINES - A Story

      

     It was long past dusk and there were less city lights winking at their astral counterparts than before. My balcony beckoned impishly. An opportunity presented itself for daring enterprise. A chance to walk the razors edge under the scrutiny of no one but the stars, using to advantage, the penthouse suite of the highest building in the city. I switched off all the lights save one which spilled a yellow haze on the balcony keeping some areas still shrouded in shadow. Something was missing. Music! I needed music. I chose the lyrical inventiveness of slow rock, quite obvious considering the mood. The right amount of spice added to the weather of growing temerity on this adventurous night. With my eyes closed and lost in contemplation, I threaded through the deck chairs that were beginning to get wet from nature's perspiration. My daring attempt at an open air undressing was at crossroads. Would it be the buttons of my shirt or the clasp of my pants? Entranced was I. So engrossed by the force of titillating thought that I was blind to the appearance of a sudden new intrusion. Two hands! Yes, two hands around my waist. Strong, supple yet not my own and I was sorely tempted to open my eyes but there was a gentleness in the hold that calmed me.  It seemed all too familiar. The scent of  someone who walked in a parallel universe, who had by sheer coincidence chanced upon the same night to intersect my path. It was phantasmal. Unbelievable. Unexpected that our lives should cross such after travelling on parallel lines until now. Unable to stand the curiosity any longer I opened my eyes, but I couldn't see a thing. The world had gone dark, as if someone had taken a giant bottle of black ink and thrown it across the sky. 

            Warmth! That is what I first noticed. A spreading warmth. No! A spreading something that wasn't warmth. It was definitely heat! Heat that comes from full body contact. When two bodies are a perfect fit. It enveloped me like a cocoon, trapping me in a hypnotic sway as Rod Stewart put on the finishing touches to a soulful ballad in the background. I felt the sudden desire to give in. The earlier confusion of where to start was now in the hands of a figment from my fairy tale. And as soon as the hands started to move, my dilemma vanished, dispelled by a fast beating pulse that sky rocketed through my body. The buttons of my shirt popped one by one and my shirttails danced in the slight breeze exposing snatches of my midriff. I yearned for the touch on my body but the hands moved on, wandering towards another goal. I heard the  sound of the zipper of my pants loud in my ear. Every inch it moved sent waves of delirium down my legs as the other hand fumbled with the top clasp and slowly unhooked it. Then fingers slipped into my waistband and eased the cloth downwards, past the resistance offered by my hips until gravity took over and my pants fell down in a soft rustle. 

              My bare body shivered in the dark, gooseflesh arms with hair standing on end as I waited for the next caress, the next gentle stroke or intimate cuddle but it never came. I looked around in dismay but I was alone again. The presence was no longer there. I was left wondering if it had all been imagination. A dream all along. It was long past midnight and there were still less city lights winking at their astral counterparts than before. My balcony beckoned impishly and I leaned over allowing the wind to flutter my shirt as I tapped the ash from my last cigarette. And watching the slow spiralling descent of burnt paper and tobacco, I reflected on the fantasy played out so intimately. Parallel lines are not meant to meet but when and if they do, the rules change and the world becomes dimensionless. The virtual becomes reality and the world goes topsy turvy. And in those brief moments of connection our lives are enriched by that ethereal, magical thread.