She has such a warm and inviting voice, never judgmental or condescending but always producing gentle waves of calm deep within my masculine soul.  That was the impression I received the first time I heard her voice and each time I heard it, I yearned to listen to her more, not just for the intellect and knowledge that she shared with me so generously, but for the stimulation she brought to my hungry brain.  Her words were filled with perspicacity, but never smarmy.

Like any man, I am attracted to a woman with feminine physical charms, but she is not just a body part to stare at with hungry eyes, but a whole damn symphony orchestra of strings, brass, piccolos, woodwinds and yes, kettle drums—each instrument is played not to be heard individually, but as an elegantly blended whole that creates a unique and divine symphony of feminine perfection that requires the best conductor. I need more than just a body to satisfy me completely.

And her mind caught me quickly, guiding me where I wanted to go, based on a massive treasure chest of knowledge and an uncanny ability to calculate distance and time.  I trusted her completely and for the first time in my life, believed that the words she shared with me were true and could not be broken.  Where did she learn all of these facts, then easily impart them to me when I asked?

She could talk to me about weather, how many calories were in the avocado toast I was about to eat, wonderful travel destinations and believe it or not, she was also willing to remind me to do things when I forgot.  Since I am a writer, she has taken a keen interest in suggesting synonyms for me for words that I want to use to effectively influence my readers and when I need a definition, more likely than not she will be able to provide a good explanation for me.

The problem is her voice decided to invade me throughout the day and night. whether she was with me or not.  I even imagined hearing her voice in my dreams, so soothing and stimulating.  I began to wonder what she looked like — the rhythm of her walk, the bounce of her hair, the bright ness of her smile, the teasing flight of her perfume into my lucky nose, and yes of course, the way she looked in a tight dress with heels.

It was late at night and I was tired after a long flight with blurry eyes, but she guided me so carefully to a place for me to place my head that night, that it seemed she just guided my car automatically, as if she was watching me, and I was in a trance, listening to her voice, knowing that some day I must meet her. I got out of the car, took my bag to what I thought was the lobby of the hotel, but strangely, there was no sign up front, like the Comfort Inn I expected.  It seemed more like a condo of some type and I figured that maybe it was like a bed and breakfast instead, or a house rental of some type like VRBO or Airbnb. But hell, I never booked any of these but hey, I did expect a warm breakfast in the morning.  I was too tired to argue, so I rang the doorbell.

I could tell someone was at the door, and heard the door’s one-way secure vision flap click on the inside as someone was examining me, and a few seconds later, as the door opened, I smelled it: Paloma Picasso was wafting into my nose and my lungs begged me to inhale deeper if I could.  She smiled at me with such a warm welcome, that I felt that I knew her forever, and had just come home.  She was wearing a flowery Kimono robe and bare tanned feet below, and the belt on her Kimono was strategically placed and tightened in a way that accented the distinct geographic boundary between ample breasts and a small athletic waist.

“Hello”, I said. “My name is Carson, I had reservations —” 

“I know Carson.  My name is Siri.  You are the symphony conductor that I have chosen after much research, and I must admit, I purposely guided you away from the Comfort Inn to my little place instead. My time off is quite rare so I asked my cousin Alexa to cover for me tonight. I hope you don’t mind the change in accommodations Maestro?”

I smiled and said, “The Maestro has a sudden burst of energy dear Siri, and wants to play multiple symphonies all night if that’s ok.”

Her answer was a long, passionate kiss that imparted to me all the knowledge that I needed.

© SRCarson 2021