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Climbing the worn granite staircase
of the castle’s turret,
Sir Anthony’s heavy coat of maille clanked around as tumultuously as his thoughts. He had to remove himself from the commotion of the castle. If he could just steal away to the parapet for a bit, surely, he would be fine. The lust he felt for the King’s daughter swirled ceaselessly around him and it was driving him mad. The mere thought of her flaxen hair blowing in the wind, brushing her pale face, her blue eyes twinkling with laughter and her peach-rose lips gave him aches of desire so intense, he nearly doubled over. “Enough, Anthony!” He chastised himself out loud. His voice reverberated off the smooth stone walls, causing him to jolt to a stop in sheer surprise.
The intensity of his feelings overwhelmed him. He tried to gather his bewildered thoughts and once more continued the steep ascent up the tower stairs. He fingered the crux on the hilt of his sword nestled securely against his hip and reminded himself of the unspoken code of service. ‘Knights are sworn to protect and defend the King and his Queen. There is no room for foolish feelings of love.’ He repeated these thoughts over and over like a mantra, but found no comfort in them. How could comfort come when he was so undeniably in love with the Princess?
Sir Anthony’s silent ramblings were interrupted by the sound of faint footsteps and he paused yet again in his journey. The turret was not a common place to wander, who else could be walking this silent path? The whole of the Kingdom was deep in final preparations for the Knighting of Jaspar. The tangible odour of hyssop, lavender and rosemary from the sacred ritual of cleansing permeated the castle passageways reminding him that the Ceremony was tonight and there was certainly no time for anyone to be taking a leisurely stroll. Perhaps it was a scorned Squire looking for revenge? Friend or foe, Sir Anthony would not be caught unprepared! He held his breath in anticipation and once again reached for the hilt of his sword.
The footsteps slowed as they moved ever closer. Did they too, know someone was here when, indeed, no one should be? A flash of royal blue velvet swung into view and Sir Anthony immediately recognized it as the gown of King Edmund’s daughter, Lady Roselaine.
Lady Roselaine… the cause of his misery, the love of his life, the object of his desire. All these things she meant to him – and, yet – he could not tell her, for fear of rejection. These feelings he held so closely guarded within him, buried so wretchedly deep, they consumed him body and soul. How could he face her, here in this most secluded of places?
As she rounded the corner, Roselaine stumbled back in astonishment as she came upon Sir Anthony. She gasped in awe at his handsome face, as he slightly bowed and then gallantly pressed his back to the cold stone walls, allowing her passage through the narrow space. But, she did not want to pass. She had come looking for him, hoping to confess her love. When her lady in waiting told her how Sir Anthony gazed longingly at her when she wasn’t watching, she felt her heart soar as if with wings! She had been in love with Sir Anthony since they were children playing together in the courtyard!
Lady Roselaine stopped in front of the brave Knight. Anthony felt his breath catch at the absurd closeness of this voluptuous woman. “M’Lady, you must return to the Celebration preparations. Surely the King will be looking for you.”
Roselaine held her fingers to Anthony’s lips. “I’m certain there is still time before I am missed. Now, tell me, what is it that you are doing in this barren tower?”
“I might ask the same thing of you, Princess.”
Slowly, a most sly smile spread across her face as she leaned forward, pressing her lips to his ear. With a breathy whisper she said, ”I am looking for you, my Knight in shining armor, to rescue me from this lust that I am carrying within. Release me from this prison of desire.”
Sir Anthony needed no further persuasion. He swept her into his arms and carried her to the top of the tower. As she lay on her blue velvet dress, she reached for Anthony and invited him into her. He knew she was a pure maiden and so his lovemaking was slow and careful. He treated her as if she were as fragile and vulnerable as a tender rose petal. Slowly and completely he brought her with him to fulfillment.
They lay together, their limbs still entwined and basked in the after glow of love. Roselaine whispered, “I think this must be one of my most HAPPIEST OF HOURS!”
Velvet Dress
1 oz. Brandy
1/2 oz. Coffee Liqueur
1/2 oz. Triple Sec
Milk or Cream
Measure ingredients into a rocks glass filled with ice. Shake.
Cheers!
“C’mon back, Hon”
…the salon assistant beckoned. Lacey followed her to the washing station. As the assistant tilted back the chair, Lacey positioned her head so her long, thick black hair fell into the sink. She closed her eyes. Being pampered was a delicious indulgence she would never, ever tire of. She knew some people didn’t like the personal attention, the intimate closeness of a relative stranger, but for Lacey… this is what living was all about. Relaxing into the soothing warmth of the water and letting the rhythmic stroke of fingers in her hair carry her away from the day’s worries, Lacey wished she could lie here for hours. But, all too soon, the hair washing was over and she found her head wrapped in a luxurious Turkish turban.
“Do you prefer red or white?” inquired yet another woman before Lacey was handed a glass of wine and led into a dimly lit room. The scent of lavender and vanilla filled the space and classical music played softly in the background. She recognized the piece as being Bach’s Prelude in D Minor and marveled at the magnificence of it. The softly flickering candles, the water falling gently over the flagstone fountain and the warm brown walls completed the meditative state of the room.
She was instructed to enjoy her wine at her leisure and when she was ready, to strip out of her clothes and lay face down on the heated massage table. The pressure of her body on the table would alert her masseur that she was comfortable. “If you like, Lacey, you may cover your buttocks with this sheet.”
As Lacey savored the 1990 Château Leoville Bordeaux, she again closed her eyes and drifted into an even deeper relaxation. Finally, Lacey moved onto the massage table. She chose not to cover her behind with the sheet, as she knew Raoul would only remove it for her full body massage.
“Good afternoon, Lacey.” Raoul’s melodious voice floated across the room and tickled her ears and she found herself holding her breath in anticipation. Working slowly, as if in a trance, his strong, oiled hands started to caress her from neck to shoulders and she immediately and impossibly softened further under his touch. As his strokes lengthened down her back and across her buttocks and proceeded down her thighs and onto her calves, Lacey felt a growing heat within her body.
Raoul’s hands continued their exploration; he was using not only his hands, but now, his forearms as well, embracing her limbs individually as if in worship. Up and down, back and forth, driving Lacey’s body into a frenzy.
Lacey willed herself to lie still. In her mind she was writhing with passion, reciprocating the embraces and moving further into the depths of uninhibited lust. In her mind, she was face to face with Raoul and stroking him as he stroked her. In her mind, he was entering her… gently… now forcefully. Moving with such skill and grace as if he were the Greek god Eros. Passionate and beautiful. Inspiring and capricious.
Raoul’s stroking continued to her inner thighs, to her hips, to her waist… and in one swift movement, Raoul turned her onto her back. Lacey lay stunned, looking up into Raoul’s deep dark chocolate brown eyes. His gaze seemed to lock her into the very depths of his soul. At that moment, the climax of Bach’s concerto came to a crescendo and Lacey’s head swam with a mixture of pleasure and warmth and wine and beauty. She exhaled.
Raoul continued his massage, lovingly caressing every part of her… bringing her back to a relaxed state, a relaxed frame of mind. Slowly, tenderly, he ended the meandering direction of his hands, pulled them away from her body and slid the warm sheet over her.
As Raoul stood above her, Lacey’s eyes turned from the heated inferno of desire to the cool comfort of satisfaction. He knew he fulfilled what he came here to do… fill the glorious gap between wanton desire and pure pleasure.
Both Lacey and Raoul had the same thought at the same time…what better way to continue this wonderfully indulgent feeling than to call some friends to gather and enjoy a drink at HAPPY HOUR.
Trance
Fill a rocks glass with ice.
1 oz. Jägermeister
1 oz. Hypnotiq
Fill with an Energy Drink, such as Red Bull.
Sprinkle a pinch of sugar over the drink.
Enjoy!
Most of them knew him by ‘Ace’.
He was christened with the name Patrick, but he never really liked it. Early in his childhood, he developed a keen interest in magic and always carried an Ace of Spades up his sleeve. “Just in case, ya know?”
In high school, the name stuck. Not only for the magic tricks, but also for the way he could play basketball. He was actually quite good at it. Sometimes, though, when he would miss a shot or two, his name became a derogatory statement. “Way to go, Ace. I could’ve dunked that with my eyes closed.” In college, when he was introduced to someone new, it was always by ‘Ace’, almost never Patrick. In fact, outside of family, only his very close friends knew his actual given name.
But, it was in college that his nickname took on a very different meaning. Long gone were the magic tricks and the card up his sleeve…. although, on occasion, he would impress the ladies at the club by pulling a rose out of their ear. Or, he would win a few drinks off his buddies at the bar by making their money vanish from under their glass.
No… magic certainly had no room in the new meaning his name was associated with now. You see… ‘Ace’ was top dog with the ladies. He didn’t care if they were white, black, pink or purple. Tall, skinny, short, chunky, Asian, Latin or on crutches. He would conquer them all.
Who knows where this desire came from? Perhaps he had an inferiority complex – perhaps, he had a superiority complex. No one knew. What they did know, though, was that ‘Ace’ loved his ladies. And his ladies loved him right back. He wined and dined them until their pants came off. And he was a gentleman about it. Always making them feel good and complimenting them lavishly. ‘Ace’ never made them feel used or unwanted. He loved them as long as he could, then he sent them on their merry way. There was never a bad moment in their departure, only happy feelings of pleasure on both sides.
One night out on the town with his buddies, he spied a woman across the bar that he had never seen before. To him, she was the most beautiful person he had ever laid eyes on. OK, so she had a slightly crooked nose and her hair seemed to lay flat against her head, but the aura she exuded, was beyond his understanding. Not that he knew anything about auras. But, there was definitely something about her, something that demanded his attention. His friends teased him that there must be magic in the air.
‘Ace’ approached her quietly. She seemed very aware of his presence, but didn’t turn to look. He cleared his throat to get her attention. Well, all that did was get the attention of the bartender.
“What can I get you, sir?”
“I’ll have a Gin & Tonic and if the lady would like… a drink for her?”
Finally, she turned around to look at him. The connection was immediate. With a slight smile on her face, she said to the bartender, “I’ll have a Maiden’s Blush, please.”
Her intense hazel eyes were all he could focus on. He even forgot that he should probably be speaking to her right now. Their gazing exchange seemed to last a lifetime. – And in those moments, ‘Ace’ knew he had found his heart’s desire.
“So…” he finally uttered. “Do you come here often for HAPPY HOUR?”
He Said...She Said...