The Playa Chronicles by Roy Glenn Read Free Book Online

standing there waiting. She sat down, introduced herself, and handed me her card. “Call me sometime,” she said and got up and returned to her seat at the bar. Shortly after that, Shelia came back and I took her home.
    Here’s the funny part.
    After all that flip and dip she went through at the bar and her not saying one word to me on the way to her apartment, she invited me in. “Can I get you something to drink?”
    “That’s cool.” And with that she disappeared. I sat patiently on the couch waiting for what seemed to be a long time just for her to fix a drink. Then she came around the corner and she stood before me.
    A naked silhouette in the distance.
    I smiled.
    In one hand was a bottle, the other a glass. She poured and handed me the glass.
    “I thought you were mad at me?”
    “ Shhhh ,” she said and sat down next to me. “We’re not going to have sex.”
    “We never do,” I replied. “What we have is far beyond what I would call sex.”
    “ Shhhh .”
    We sat there in silence, drinking wine until out glasses were empty. Shelia smiled and poured herself another glass. She raised the bottle; a silent offering. I accepted her offer. She filled my glass and looked at the bottle. Noting that it was almost empty, she unbuttoned my shirt and poured the remains on my chest, and proceeded to lick and suck it off. I watched in silence as her tongue moved softly across my chest, lingering only at the nipples. I reached for her, but she pushed my hands away. I started to protest.
    “ Shhhh ” and a deep, passionate kiss met my objections. The taste of her tongue and champagne was sweet to my lips. She put her glass down and began to run her hands along my body.
    Shelia took me by the hand and led me to the bedroom. She politely asked me to take off my clothes and lay spread-eagle on the bed. I looked at her strangely, but I still complied with her request. After all, we had taken our sexual encounters to a level that few knew of, and far fewer live in. Our minds and bodies existed in a sexual utopia, where euphoria is the order of the day.
    She sat next to me on the bed and smiled in admiration of my erection, showing her appreciation for its beauty with her hands.
    Then Shelia proceeded to tie both of my wrists to the bed frame. I started to protest again, but as before, “ Shhhh ” and a deep, passionate kiss met my objections, and that seemed to satisfy me for a while.
    So naturally, I didn’t protest when she blindfolded me.
    “What about my legs?” I asked innocently.
    “ Shhhh ,” she said. “You’re going to need them.”  
    The room was now quiet. I called her name.
    “Shelia!”
    It echoed through the house, but went unanswered. It wasn’t long before I heard music playing: Hard Bop jazz. Hard Bop is a style of jazz that incorporates influences from rhythm and blues, gospel music, and blues, especially in the trumpet, saxophone and piano playing. Major influences in this genre were Lee Morgan and Miles Davis. The music had a rollicking, rhythmic style like the musicians playing it put there entire heart, soul and body into it. It was our prefered music to have sex by. I called to her again, still no reply. Over the sounds of “ Exotique ” by Lee Morgan, I heard the front door open and close. I was alone, tied semi-spread-eagle to the bed, and glad to be there. I did, however, give some thought to the fact that Shelia had cursed me out less than an hour ago.
    Suppose she went to get a sharp knife so she could cut my dick off? I thought.
    I pulled on my bonds to see how tight they were. I was relieved when I felt them give.
    I wasn’t sure how long I had been there or how long I would have to wait for her return, or what would happen when she returned. In my mind, I painted a flowing picture of what was to come. My erection faded and returned with each new thought.
    I squirmed.
    The door opened; I lay still in anticipation. I inhaled deeply and smelled her scent in the room. I called to