Café Maya

~The Dance~

music play list, songs from the patio of the Café Maya :

~ At Last - Etta James

~Come Away With Me - Norah Jones

~You're Only Lonely - JD southerly

~The Way You Look Tonight - Michael Bublé

~I'm Gon na bang You Like I'm Gon na misplace You - Meghan Trainor

~Smoke Gets In Your optic - The Platters

~Put Your head On My Shoulder - Paul Anka

~If You Don't Know Me By Now - Simply Red

~Wicked secret plan - Chris Isaak

He stood in the threshold from the street outside. There were mesa on the walk outside, of course of instruction, it was a café after all. And, while there were a few the great unwashed here and there, couples mostly, the one soul he was looking for was not among them. So, indoors he went. Stepping inside he had to pause to let his middle adjust to the lower inflammation, even though the sun was heading toward the horizon outside as it would soon be setting.

This was not his first trip here, to the Café Maya. It would seem he had been coming here for quite some time, more often over the retiring year or so however. No, The Café Mayan was quite fellow to him. You see, he, Floyd had created this Café. well, he and others like him who frequented this place. It was a particular seat. It only existed here in the ethoxyethane of this region of fancy and trick. Max Born of imagination, curiosity, desire and longing, the Café Maya was where aspiration took shape and became rattling, even if only for brief period of time of time.

delusion, and fantasy, dreams in other row. Waking pipe dream, perhaps, but fueled by desires and longings of the middle and imagination. In this billet, the real earth took a dance step back and this semblance became very genuine indeed. It was a blank space where like-minded people could assemble and coexist in person as it were, for a clip. Like all aspiration, however, the time here in the Café Maya always cut short when the genuine world again reclaimed the minds and attention of those visiting here. But it was here that they all would give back to clock time and clip again, to come back in that illusion that filled a void that many didn't fully realize until they found this situation.

Floyd, took off his jacket and held it up in front of himself to await at it. A fall, nicely styled dinner jacket, a little sporty perhaps, but still ball enough for well-nigh dainty restaurants dress prerequisite. He shook his point in wry amusement as he wondered when he had imagined himself wearing a jacket in the first place as he was not one to dress up for much of anything. He folded it over one arm and looked about for a coat checkout. There, in an alcove by the doorway was a young girl smiling at him as she gave him a title ticket and took his jacket to hang up until he was quick to leave.

As he slipped the ticket into his pocket, he noticed, again with amusement, that he was not wearing his usually favored jean, but rather a nice dyad of falling off. The silk button down shirt was lightweight and comfortable as were the stylish loafers on his feet. Now he knew that somebody else had had a handwriting in his appearing. The magic trick of Café Maya it would seem. While each person has their own imaging to describe from for themselves, it also affected others here as well. Essentially, we helped each early create the illusion ... or reality ... that we shared here.

Once more Floyd looked around the inside of the café. If he was dressed this way, she must be here somewhere. As his eyes had adjusted to the lower light, he began to pick out faces here and there. Again, there were distich and even trey and IV at some table engaged in conversations, and other things. As to be expected, some were engaged in rather passionate central of whisper intimacies or kissing.

The light breeze from the sea carried through the spread out doorway from the patio, causing the linens on the table to flit at their edges. On the breeze was, of course, the salty air from the ocean, along with the fragrance of the flush beds on the terrace. pink wine, Magnolias, Hibiscus, Jasmine ... and ... Lilies. It was the latter that led Floyd to head out onto the patio, following the perfume in hopes of finding ... her.

Floyd stepped through the doorway to the patio, momentarily blinded by the a lot brighter lighting than the interior of the Café. He paused just through the door to let his eyes adjust. There was a song playing over the sound system, a fellow line, one that he felt was hauntingly familiar but that he couldn't discover right away. It was an instrumental version and it was winding down, the last few bars playing out as he looked around the patio. Then he spotted her.

She was standing at the boundary of the patio facing the beach. A few strands of her lovely wickedness hair lifting on the walkover blowing in from the sea. In her paw she held a bingle lily near her nozzle as if she had just been smelling it. The delicate petals brushing her cheek as she gazed out at the breakers. She must have sensed that she was being observed however. As the adjacent Song dynasty began to fiddle over the auditory sensation system,"At lastly"by Eta James I, Shobha turned and saw Floyd.

Her placid lovely aspect broke into a faint-hearted smile when she realized who it was. To Floyd it was if the sun had come out from behind the clouds. The song's words were oh so touching, and fitting he thought. Somehow, he managed to walk across the patio instead of running. Never once taking his eyes off of her as he approached.

Shobha had arrived early today. She thanked whatever fate or circumstances that had allowed it because it gave her a little supernumerary metre to classify through her persuasion. At first, she had sat at a table inside, but nerves or perhaps nervous DOE had gotten the serious of her, so she came out here on the patio. Maybe it was the unify smell of the flowers and the salty air from the sea breeze that drew her. The medicine that was playing was both soothing and ... made her think.

She had been doing a lot of thinking lately. She so very dearly missed her late husband. She knew in her pump of essence that she would never line up another like him. But she still longed for meaningful company and yes, some excitement as well. She was still a Whitney Moore Young Jr. woman at heart. She needed to be appreciated, to be wanted and maybe even loved. She had felt all of that with her new friend. Somehow, he understood how she felt and what she wanted. He too seemed to be looking for something, like she was. She knew that Floyd was hopelessly in dearest with his wife and didn't need a substitute any more than Shobha herself needed a reliever for her late married man.

What they both needed was a friend. Someone to share those touch sensation of longing and desire with here in this suspended reality that they have created together. Shobha knew that she had a pictorial imagination, and it seemed as if Floyd had an astound imagery as well. This very café was his idea, but he had asked for her assist in making it more real. A topographic point they could meet and be together if for short periods of clock time.

Looking around, Shobha marveled at the detail that truly brought this place to life. Even the tactile property of metric grain of moxie on top of the pavers on the patio that she could feel grinding and scrunching under foot when she moved about. The phone of the breakers and waves washing onto the backbone of the beach that she was looking out at a moment ago. The low mumble of voices in conversation about the patio and inside the café. The strait of ice in looking glass and silverware and collection plate from people eating. And, the music.

She thought it was interesting how the words of the Sung dynasty often reflected her own thoughts and feelings. Perhaps they were Floyd's thoughts and tone, since she was not the one to think of the medicine. A new Sung dynasty had begun to meet on the music system. An old classic By Eta James,"At Last ”, when Shobha could feel optic upon her. Somehow, she knew it was Floyd, he had arrived, like the song ... At survive. She turned to essay him out.

There, just outside the threshold to the interior of the café, he stood looking at her from across the patio. His almost timid smiling warmed her heart and gave her a secret little thrill. The warmth in his optic as he drank in her appearance made her feel butterflies in her belly. He looked just as she had imagined he would. Dressed in a button-down long-sleeved silk shirt, squeamish slacks and fashionable yet comfortable shoes. Of course, he looked to be dressed this way, it was her resourcefulness at play now. Her creative share to their oasis on the internet, her imagination had dressed him this way. But it did not make her feel excited to see him, that was something else.

Floyd came to a period in front of Shobha. So very near, almost toe to toe, he looked down slightly into her bright upturned face, her nervous almost shy smile letting him know that she was well-chosen to see him. They both stood motionless as Etta belted out her birdcall over the speakers around the patio. Gazing into one another's eyes again. Both finding mutual fervor and expectancy in the former's heart.

"Have you been waiting long ?"Floyd asked almost apologetically.

"No, not long. I got here a little early to see all this beautiful creation. It is so ... so real."Shobha almost gushed, her hands held out as if showing Floyd what she was talking about.

"It wasn't all my doing."He admitted."I think a heavy deal of it is from your imagination. The flowers for exemplar. I had imagined only something simple like Jasmine. But You like roses and Lilies."Floyd said motioning to the lone lily that Shobha still held lightly in her hand.

"I wasn't even aware that I had imagined it."Shobha said with a grinning and glanced at the lily in her hand thoughtfully for a moment.

"It's beautiful ... like you."Floyd said with that warm grin again as he reached out and touched her helping hand holding the flower, and leaned in to take a soft snuff of its fragrance.

Shobha watched as Floyd's middle closed for a moment as he sniffed the flower, his smile never faltering. Instead, if anything, his smile grew bigger and he sighed when he exhaled before straightening back up and opening his oculus to await at her once more. Just then a new song began to encounter ... Shobha noticed that early brace were now standing and stepping out onto the patio, pairing up to dance. She looked back to Floyd.

The smell of the lily was almost heavenly, but it still paled in comparison to the woman holding that peak. Was it his imagination, or hers, that supplied the odor of her perfume. It was light, floral, and enticing. He wanted to smack more of it. I wanted to be nigh to this beautiful woman. Those persuasion flashed through is mind even as a new Sung began to play over the music organisation. He recognized the melody, and the singer. This was perfect, and easily still, it was a grand song to which to dance.

Floyd extended his right hired man politely and looked Shobha in her cover girl brown eyes and asked her."Would you like to dance ?"The first step strains of"come Away With Me"by Norah Daniel Jones soothing his own nerves.

Shobha was a little hesitant, again. It had been so long since anyone had asked her to dance. Did she still commend how ? Would she block herself if she tried ? So many questions, it caused her to pause. She chewed her bottomland lip for just a moment before she threw carefulness to the wind and nodded her head and extended her own hand to Floyd in acceptance.

Floyd and Shobha stepped closer to one another. Floyd taking her aright hand in his leftfield. Shobha rested her left helping hand on Floyd's right articulatio humeri as his right hired man rested lightly on her left over hip. They began to sway and their feet slid lightly across the pavers underfoot, in time to the music. As the song went on, their bodies pressed closer and closer to one another. Shobha could experience the firmness of Floyd's thorax through his silk shirt. The lovingness was electric, it caused her to shiver slightly with joy. Her own consistency heat rising along with her excitement. She suddenly became self-consciously cognizant that her own stimulation was causing her mamilla to harden beneath her dress as they were pressed into Floyd's chest as they danced closely.

Both seemed to loosen up into the apparent movement of the dance, and into each other as they held one another stopping point. It was a tactual sensation of warmth and acquaintance that both had missed for their own reasons for too longsighted. Shobha drew back just a bit to expect up into Floyd's oculus only to find him gazing openly back into her own. The diffuse grin on his side told her that he was enjoying his time with her as lots as she was being with him in this wonderful place.

The song wound down to a conclusion and the dancers on the patio paused, some exiting to their tables, others lingered for the next birdsong. Floyd and Shobha had stopped dancing of trend, with no music, but they stayed holding one another ending, though they did separate just a bit in modestness as they eyed one another with almost sheepish smiles. They didn't have fourth dimension to begin any conversation however, as the sound system was soon alive with yet another call to dance to.

The next Song dynasty * * * * * * * * * * * ion by the resident D.J. was a little zippy than the last, but still tranquilize plenty to be considered good for slack dancing."You're Only Lonely"by J.D. Souther opened with the strumming of guitars in a cycle and tempo that just begged one's feet to travel. And if one were holding someone special close, it was all the bettor. The smile on Shobha's face was radiant. It appeared to Floyd that she too agreed with that notion.

"Did you pick out this call, and the others ?"Shobha asked quietly, with an almost timid voice.

"I did."Floyd admitted, then asked."Do you not like it ?"

"Oh, it's marvelous and a nice song to dance to. But it's almost as if you are trying to say something through the dissimilar songs you've chosen."She said, as if leading Floyd to flesh out more.

"Perhaps ... They do severalise a story, or paint a impression, don't they ?"He asked with a smile.

"It sounds as if they are describing me, or you possibly."Shobha said thoughtfully

"Or maybe the song writers were merely describing their own feelings and thoughts that are alike to our own ?"Floyd said questioningly.

"fountainhead, whichever it may be, they fit the modality very well, do they not ?"Shobha stated and looked up into Floyd's eyes again with a warm smile and chewed the corner of her bottom lip.

Floyd groaned silently as this was a spirit that many women in his past had given him and it always meant that the lady giving it was both excited and maybe a piffling anxious. Anxious, but wanting to go further, he corrected himself. Shobha seemed to crusade herself even closer to him as they continued to dance and sway to the music. Their feet gliding effortlessly in sync across the patio, the Baroness Dudevant grinding beneath their feet atop the pavers.

As the song wound down to a conclusion, more terpsichorean left the patio. The sun had lowered on the horizon, and as the sky grew darker, person turned on some electric fairy lights that were strung over the patio giving the dancers some soft kindling with which to see one another. Floyd noted that the ignitor reflected in Shobha's heart as she gazed up into his own. It was witching.

Shobha and Floyd paused their saltation, standing still holding one another finis. Perhaps neither wanting the evening to end so soon. Floyd was about to propose that they have a seat and Order a drink, but a new song began to play. He could feel Shobha's body set about to carry in fourth dimension with the euphony so he didn't even bother asking her if she wanted to continue dancing. She clearly did, as did he. So, they danced to Michael Buble's interpreting of"The Way You Look Tonight."

Again, for a slow dancing birdsong, this one was a little faster tempo than most, but it was still dance-able and it too seemed to draw their emotions and feelings in the lyrics of the birdsong. There was a feeling of repose as the two smoothly moved about the patio in clock time to the music. Their bodies melding together as the swayed and held each former close.

There seemed to be a growing connection between them, emotionally. Their Black Maria were opening up to the possibility that in one another they had found some small measure of intellect and recognition of desire. This illusion, this suspend reality was growing on them, becoming more and more than existent with each passing moment. This time as the vocal wound down to its mop up, they never stopped dancing. They continued to hold one another closely as if savoring the homo tactile sensation and togetherness.

The next Sung dynasty up began to play. The tempo was decidedly irksome and nearly matched their jiffy. As the singer began to sing, the lyric poem again took on a haunting quality as Shobha and Floyd both felt as if their thoughts were being sang aloud by Meghan Trainor singing"I'm Gon na have intercourse You Like I'm Gon na recede You."

Shobha shifted her rectify handwriting, unclasping it from Floyd's left hand and brought both of her hands to the back of Floyd's neck. Floyd let is now free deal determine on Shobha's mightily hip. Now both workforce were on her hips at her shank. This was oh so dangerously adumbrate. This closing, their bodies reason against one another. Shobha's breasts and abdomen pressing against Floyd's chest of drawers and torso. He had been conscious for some fourth dimension of the growing swelling in his slacks. He was certain that Shobha could feel it as well, but she had not commented on it as of yet. Was she embarrassed ? Was she excited ? Maybe a little of both ?

"Am I ? Shobha asked half way through the song.

"Are you what ?"Floyd queried in response, not understanding her question.

"Going to miss you. Like the song says."She elaborated.

Floyd remained quiet for a few steps as he thought about it and they continued dancing. He then brought his rightfield hand up to Shobha's delicate Chin and with his fingers, gently raised her face to take care at him in the eye again.

"I only have partial say in that ... whether you and I lose one another. This has never been one sided, has it ? Everything we've talked about and have shared has been for and by both of us. So, no. I think you won't lose me without your decision to end this experiment of ours. Either of us may alter our minds at some point. Perhaps the birdsong is telling us to cherish the present moment. To love one another like we are afraid that we will drop off one another."Floyd stated, never once faltering in his step as they danced on.

Once more the song they were dancing to ended and there was another pause before the future birdcall began to flirt. Instead of separating, even pulling apart to look into one another's eyes, Shobha pulled herself even blind drunk to Floyd's breast. Her branch around his neck opening and shoulders squeezed him tightly. Floyd feeling this, delighted in the sense impression of someone wanting him so very much physically, let his custody slip from her hip joint and wrap around to defy the small of her spine and attraction Shobha ever stringent to himself as well. Shobha sighed contentedly, a unsounded thank you for the warmness that she felt being returned by this man in her arms.

An old classic, romantic song began to run, a short melodic line, but one that touched nerves that both were baring to the other. The haunting melody for"Smoke Gets In Your center"by the disk came from the speakers around the dance floor on the terrace. They were soon joined by early twosome who were holding each other as closely as Floyd and Shobha. Floyd felt Shobha sigh again, her warm breath escaping her lips so close to his neck, it gave him goosebump and he shivered slightly at the intimate sensation.

It was a short song but it was soon followed by yet another old favorite for lovers and slow dancing. Reaching way back, the D.J. played"Put Your head word On My Shoulder"by Paul Anka. The old Doo Wop love story song had them swaying and feeling dreamy in time with the beat. Like the song suggested, Shobha lay her head teacher on Floyd's articulatio humeri as they continued to rock and prompt with the measure. Floyd leaned his own top dog over to lie against Shobha's, his olfactory organ once again filling with the scent of her pilus and whatever perfume she had put on. It was magical in and of itself. He was truly in the present moment, traverse away with her warmth and lulu.

The sun had edged closer to the horizon as they had been dancing. It was a spectacular and colorful sight as the sun began to dip into the sea. The sky was alight as if it were on flaming, the colors ranging from bright golden yellows to reds that resembled coal of a dying fire. There was a feeling of time slipping away, once more. The curtly Sung only reinforced that touch of fleet chance. The next song up on the D.J.'s playlist also seemed to echo those persuasion. A slow cartoon, almost somber in tint and cadence."If You Don't Know Me By Now"by Simply Red.

It was lovely music to trip the light fantastic toe to, and dancing with each other, holding one another close. Feeling the excitement and sexual latent hostility between them only made the Sung dynasty and the dance all the more intimate indeed. Their faces were impudence to cheek as they swayed to the music. Turning only slightly brought them look to face and their lips brushed lightly together in a subdued breathless jalopy. The entitle touch of their lips sent signals of wanton desire through both of their bodies and their eyes half closed as if barely awake. But awake they were.

When the Sung dynasty ended, they finally stopped dancing and simply stood in place, lip touching rim as the kiss grew in strength and fervor. They pulled apart just far sufficiency to transfer the side that their nozzle were on before reengaging and parting for their tongues to gather and begin to trip the light fantastic. Floyd felt Shobha's finger running through the hair on the back of his question. His own hands had drifted up her side to just under her arms as he gently squeezed her as if trying to draw the kiss even closer to him.

He could feel her chest ascension and falling with each excited breath, and even her heart beating within. Floyd was indisputable that Shobha, too, could finger his own heart whacking in his chest as she was so secretive to him as to nearly be a second skin ... her bosom pressed tightly to his own chest. As stir as it was, both knew that time was short and their visit would soon come to an end ... for this evening. The keening of sea gulls drew both of their attention towards the beach for a present moment. Both lost in their own thoughts for a few seconds. When the next Song dynasty began to act on the sound scheme,"Wicked Game"by Chris Isaak, Floyd looked into Shobha's eyes and spoke.

"I know this song. Did you have this song in mind ? Or did my subconscious supplying it ?"

The puzzled aspect in Shobha's eyes told him her answer without her even speaking. His heart ached with a sudden hurting of melancholy. This vocal was oh so poignant and de * * * * * * * * * * * ive for their shared position. Meeting this way and ... look for one another as they did. He smiled, however, and took Shobha's script in his and go her to the departure from the patio out onto the sand of the beach. Pausing for a moment to kick off his shoes, and Shobha followed his hint, and took off her own shoes. Letting their bare toes and groundwork be warmed by the sand.

Hand in hired hand they strolled through the sand to the surf and then turned to walk along the beach at the water's edge, getting their infantry wet from time to time. Each carried their shoes in one hired man, but were joined at the hip, handwriting in hand. Shobha leaned into Floyd and he relished the secretiveness of her body against his own. The Sung played on in the aloofness behind them on the terrace of Café Mayan language. The sound of the surf and the waving gently rolling in to the beach accompanying the euphony.

At one degree they both sensed the need to terminate and turned to face one another fully. Words weren't necessity, the spirit in each other's eyes spoke volumes that actor's line would only confuse. They leaned in and kissed again, momentarily perhaps yielding to their growing passions and forgetting the row of the song that was winding down ... about not wanting to go down in love.

Would that be such a bad thing. To light in beloved with someone who felt the same desires and longings as they did ? Couldn't one dearest more than just one former somebody. Shobha with her later husband, and Floyd with his wife. They both knew that the former was committed and couldn't'be swayed from that love ... but to be able to roll in the hay another ? Perhaps not to the same level, but just as real ... as real as their semblance and suspended reality here anyway.

Lips embraced and caressing, lingua dancing and tasting one another. Their shoes hit the Sand as their custody freed themselves to explore this former individual's body that was so exciting and new and for the bit anyway, so very real. Floyd's hands went to Shobha's waistline and held her for a import, then ventured around her sides to come to rest on the mellow grasp of Shobha's backside. Her feminine design cried out to be worshiped and touched, at least in Floyd's judgement.

Shobha's deal ventured up Floyd's body her hands running over his abdomen and flavorless along his pectus between them. One hand pausing near his shoulder and the other continuing up to cup the side of his aspect, her palm on his cheek as they continued to snog passionately. Who began to gasp and moan softly first could ingest been debated, had anyone else been around to hear it. But for this consequence, they were alone. It was if the rest of the world had vanished. Their world condensed to just a few square meter at the bound of the sea, in the wet sand and surf on this imagine beach.

Floyd's hands slid lower still, softly but insistently gripping her nerve, one in each hand, lifting Shobha slightly, pulling her closer still into his consistence. Shobha's hand left his cheek and moved once Sir Thomas More to the back of Floyd's head, as if the anchor herself to him. Her other hand grew bold and ventured back down his chest to his waist before pausing. Perhaps she was having moment thoughts or momentary doubts, before it began to act again. Downward slowly, along the front of Floyd's slacks her hand, palm bland against the material of his gasp, felt the protuberance that lay inside under the cloth. She inhaled sharply at her own daring perhaps.

Shobha was not the only one to inhale sharply, almost gasped in fact. Floyd felt Shobha's bridge player rubbing lightly on the front of his pants and his erect humanness within. It didn't feel as if she were trying to initiate something more ... physical ... but that she was letting her wonder release to explore the possibilities. Just as he himself had thoughts of with is own hands gripping and squeezing her backside. Floyd couldn't, however, sustain his dead body from reacting to her touch modality even as tentative as it might have been. His coxa rolled slightly and pressed into her deal that was between them.

Floyd's reaction caused Shobha to pant again softly as she realized that she had caused that reaction. There was some small persona of her that was nearly rapturous about that, that she could have that event on a man. Her self-confidence soared to new heights and her feminine ego seemed to grow by just a small bar as well. It was exciting on so many stage.

Their faces pulled apart slightly as they broke the kiss. eyes searched eyes. Hearts raced and they were both nearly panting as they caught their breath. The sun finally dipped below the purview and the light faded to nearly darkness. Yet their eyes shined brightly with desire and wonder at this discovery. A feeling of expectancy was palpable for both of them. Even as Floyd released his cargo area on Shobha's hind end and she met his hands at her hip joint with both of her own. They interlocked their finger and held them lightly.

The sound of the surf and the fool overhead seemed to fade slightly. Oddly, the strait of their twinkling in their own ears got louder. A touch of ... not quite grief, but a trivial sadness came over both of them as they searched for solution in each former's optic yet again.

"Shobha ... I ..."Floyd began, stumbling verbally as he searched for the words for the intuitive feeling he wished to carry."I ... Thank you. thank you for showing me that this could even be."He finally spoke.

"It is I who should be thanking you, perhaps."Shobha nearly whispered. Before continuing."Thank you for trusting me. I feel so happy to hold met someone I can finger safe with, to express and plowshare my feelings and desires with. Even if it is but here in this shared out space that we've created. I almost don't want to leave."She said with a saddened smile.

"I know what you mean. This place is ... witching. And you. You are like a genie in the bottleful. You are magic incarnate. I could dance with you every night, and I am not usually a dancer at all. I hope ... I hope we can do this again ... sometime ?"Floyd asked awkwardly, hoping against promise that Shobha would grant him this wish.

"I would love to, do this again. And, perhaps ... even more ?"Shobha responded hopefully.

Floyd could interpret between the bloodline, he too could feel the agitation and anticipation of further exploration of the possibilities of what they could share going forward. He smiled but his voice was choked for the moment so he brought Shobha's right hired man to his lips and kissed the spinal column of her digit delicately. Finding his vox, he began to speak ... but the sound of a telephone set plangency in the distance distracted him. one-half turning his chief, he broke eye contact with Shobha and the ringing grew very much louder ...

Suddenly Floyd found himself with his unexpended paw in front of his typeface, sitting at his desk in straw man of his computing device. The earphone beside his pc was ringing. He had to blink a few times before he realized that he was back ... back in the mundane realism of the real earth. Yet despite the ringing of the telephone beside him, he could faintly hear the strains of the shoemaker's last song they had heard from the Café ... Wicked plot. ~I never dreamed I'd love somebody ... like you ... I never dreamed that I'd lose soul like you ... No, I want to lessen in love ... No, I want to fall in beloved ... With you ... With you ... ~

-To be continued-