Cream Puffs and Harleys

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Cara straddled the tricked out Fat Boy Harley, adjusted the helmet over her curly brunette locks, and put her arms around Thomas. The engine charged the air with it’s power as he brought it to life. Thomas leaned back into her as they took off, and Cara gave one last look at their Thursday night hang out. It had been hours of drinking, eating, dancing, showing off. There were a lot of people milling around: bikers, families, singles and daters. Cara was happy. Everything was cool tonight.

It had been a good night. She hadn’t seen Thom in a few months. They’d both been so busy and their timing just never seemed to be right. Going out on a weekday night, and late too, wasn’t ideal in her mind, but (1) it was his birthday and (2) she needed to just get out and have some fun.

Cara nestled closer to Thom as he took the streets of Manhattan, dodging pot holes and cars who seemed not to care if they were in an accident or not. She thought back on the evening, him being early, picking her up, telling her she looked beautiful, a nice soft kiss…no slobbering. Nice.

Before they even got on their way he made her laugh, going off on one of his wild tangent stories. Seems there was a woman who, from the back, looked like her. That wild curly brunette hair, great build (his words), but she was looking in the wrong direction and digging a hole to China in her shoulder bag. He was amused that it took a long time for that woman to finally find what she had been excavating for: the keys to the apartment building.

“She was up, down, stomping around,” he said. “She bent over and was behind the car…”

“…and she had a nice ass?” Cara asked, smiling.

“Didn’t notice. She was behind the car. Maybe she was laying a trap, booby hatching the car, and then would jump over it like a curly headed Ninja.” He smiled, and his eyes lit up with his mischief making.

Thom gave her a big hug, thanked her for going out with him, and they set off.

Now, on the way back to her place, she went over the evening. “I’ve knew this guy as a childhood friend, then nothing for decades, then out of the blue, he finds me. Three times he finds me, we drift apart, he finds me again.” Cara closes her eyes at this, and is enjoying all the sensations of the evening, the ride home, the wind whipping by her, the closeness of her body to his, and she smiles.

They had talked about relationships, kids, parents, dysfunctioning dysfunctional periods of their lives, telling stories, laughing and questions and advice. Part of the evening felt like analysis, deciphering what made them both tick in certain ways…and it was good in that their was a deep level of trust in the sharing. He told a few stories, shared some ideas, and she critiqued and brought things up that made him stop and think. He just said “thank you.” He asked her about her philosophy of spirituality, and there was a concurrence in this as well. The evening had been an ongoing dialogue that just never got boring, it was intriguing and warm, and just plain fun in so many ways.

A thousand things went through her mind. It had been a truly great evening, and there were things she wanted that she wasn’t sure how to say without the evening going for another few hours.

All this mixed inside of her as she enjoyed sailing down the less crowded streets of upper Manhattan. She was tired, and starting to really fade, and the thought of having to get up again in four hours made her wince, but that was OK. This…was OK. It had been a really good night.

In front of her place, they pulled over so the crazy drivers passed them by. Thom and Cara hugged, and they kissed good night, both of them smiling.

“I owe you that dessert for your Birthday, don’t forget it. Can’t believe four and a half hours went by that fast.”

Thom got all serious for a second, just before she turned away. He stopped her by just touching her chin with a finger. “Hey, I know. Cara…I really want to see you again, and soon.” Cara stopped, a flood of thoughts running through her. “Yes, we will,” and she leaned in for a final hug and walked to her building.

A wolf whistle brought her attention back as she got to the door. “Hey, ever been on a date where one hour felt like a week in hell?” he called out to her.

Yes, Carol thought. “Yes.”

“This wasn’t like that at all.” He winked, they played a few seconds of “you hang up first”, and Cara entered the building as Thom drove off home.

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11 responses »

  1. Nice story, but I felt that something is not quite there yet in this relationship. On a different note, I am starting to wonder whether you are a hair fetishist (you love describing hair, don’t you?). Just a thought.

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    • Hi Muriel: if you mean this and the Redhead stories, the hair on both women were important features. Hair is one of the first things I seem to notice, then the mouth and eyes, the cheekbones, etc. I also, if you notice, don’t do a lot of description in the face simply because I like to leave things open for interpretation most times. The hair color, and style, often says a lot about the woman’s looks, if not also the attitude.

      I also might have a thing for hair too. Never thought of that. I’m normally a..hmmmmm… what part of a woman DON’T I have a thing for? 😉

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  2. That’s the kind of date that leaves a woman feeling confused and wondering what’s next? Since she didn’t answer his question or say what he’d have liked to hear, I can’t see much future there.

    Penelope J.

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  3. 🙂 Does anyone ever have the nerve to reply to those questions? Like, “What are you thinking?” I’ve often wondered if there is such a thing as a free and easy, uncomplicated relationship. It seems like it would be a fairly simple thing, and yet somehow it never is. I tend to lump them with dragons and unicorns – fun to write about, but not real. It’s a lovely and simple story though, I like it.
    (You can thank me for the bucket of ice water any time.)
    Sorry I haven’t been around much. Not writing much either. 😦

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  4. When a relationship is easy and uncomplicated, we sometimes mess it up with too much analysis…..hmmm….I liked the way this ended, kind of, ‘stay tuned, more to come’….and yet leaves the reader to decide how it must end.

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