Café Mayan

~The Dance~

medicine playlist, Sung dynasty from the patio of the Café Mayan :

~ At end - Etta King James I

~Come Away With Me - Norah Jones

~You're Only Lonely - JD souther

~The Way You Look Tonight - Michael Bublé

~I'm Gon na Love You Like I'm Gon na Lose You - Meghan Trainor

~Smoke Gets In Your heart - The phonograph record

~Put Your headway On My Shoulder - Paul the Apostle Anka

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

~Wicked Game - Chris Isaak

He stood in the threshold from the street outside. There were board on the walk outside, of course of study, it was a café after all. And, while there were a few people here and there, couples mostly, the one somebody he was looking for was not among them. So, indoors he went. Stepping inside he had to pause to let his eye adjust to the low-pitched ignition, even though the sun was heading toward the horizon outside as it would soon be setting.

This was not his first misstep here, to the Café Maya. It would seem he had been coming here for quite some time, more often over the past yr or so however. No, The Café Maya was quite familiar to him. You see, he, Floyd had created this Café. Well, he and others like him who frequented this place. It was a special place. It only existed here in the ethoxyethane of this realm of illusion and magic trick. Born of imagination, curiosity, desire and longing, the Café Mayan was where dreaming took shape and became real, even if only for brief periods of prison term.

trick, and illusion, aspiration in other words. Waking dream, perhaps, but fueled by desires and longings of the heart and imagination. In this place, the real macrocosm took a step back and this illusion became very real indeed. It was a place where like-minded multitude could play and coexist in person as it were, for a sentence. Like all dream, however, the time here in the Café Mayan language always cut shortstop when the real reality again reclaimed the brain and attending of those visiting here. But it was here that they all would return to time and sentence again, to rejoin in that illusion that filled a void that many didn't fully realize until they found this billet.

Floyd, took off his crown and held it up in front of himself to calculate at it. A light, nicely styled dinner jacket, a niggling sporty perhaps, but still courtly enough for nearly skillful restaurant dress requirements. He shook his head in wry amusement as he wondered when he had imagined himself wearing a jacket in the first berth as he was not one to dress up for much of anything. He folded it over one arm and looked about for a coat check. There, in an alcove by the door was a offspring girl smiling at him as she gave him a claim tag and took his jacket to pay heed up until he was make to leave.

As he slipped the ticket into his pocket, he noticed, again with amusement, that he was not wearing his usually preferred denim, but rather a nice duet of slacks. The silk button down shirt was lightweight and comfortable as were the stylish layabout on his feet. Now he knew that individual else had had a bridge player in his show. The magic of Café Maya it would look. While each somebody has their own imagery to pull out from for themselves, it also affected others here as well. Essentially, we helped each former 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 heart had adjusted to the lowly light source, he began to blame out faces here and there. Again, there were mates and even threes and quatern at some table engaged in conversations, and early things. As to be expected, some were engaged in rather passionate substitution of whisper amour or kissing.

The wakeful duck soup from the ocean carried through the open doorway from the patio, causing the linen on the table to flutter at their edges. On the breeze was, of course, the salty air from the ocean, along with the scent of the peak layer on the patio. blush wine, Magnolias, Hibiscus, Jasmine ... and ... Lilies. It was the latter that led Floyd to head out onto the terrace, following the odour in Leslie Townes Hope of finding ... her.

Floyd stepped through the doorway to the patio, momentarily blinded by the much brighter lighting than the interior of the Café. He paused just through the doorway to let his heart adjust. There was a song playing over the sound system, a fellow melodic phrase, one that he felt was hauntingly associate but that he couldn't identify mightily away. It was an subservient interlingual rendition 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 edge of the patio facing the beach. A few fibril of her pin-up darkness whisker lifting on the pushover blowing in from the sea. In her hands she held a single lily near her nose as if she had just been smelling it. The soft petals brushing her cheek as she gazed out at the surf. She must have sensed that she was being observed however. As the succeeding song began to bet over the strait system,"At Last"by Eta James, Shobha turned and saw Floyd.

Her placid lovely face broke into a timid smile when she realized who it was. To Floyd it was if the sun had come out from behind the clouds. The Sung dynasty's lyric were oh so poignant, and fitting he thought. Somehow, he managed to walk across the patio instead of running. Never once taking his eye off of her as he approached.

Shobha had arrived early today. She thanked whatever fates or circumstances that had allowed it because it gave her a piddling extra time to separate through her idea. At for the first time, she had sat at a mesa inside, but nerves or perhaps nervous get-up-and-go had gotten the dear of her, so she came out here on the patio. Maybe it was the mingled flavour of the flowers and the salty air from the sea gentle wind that drew her. The music 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 recent husband. She knew in her heart of hearts that she would never find another like him. But she still longed for meaningful troupe and yes, some agitation as well. She was still a young cleaning lady at heart. She needed to be appreciated, to be wanted and maybe even loved. She had felt all of that with her new admirer. 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 lovemaking with his wife and didn't need a substitute any more than Shobha herself needed a substitute for her late husband.

What they both needed was a friend. Someone to share those flavour of longing and desire with here in this suspended reality that they have created together. Shobha knew that she had a intense imagination, and it seemed as if Floyd had an amaze imagination as well. This very café was his idea, but he had asked for her help in making it more material. A place they could meet and be together if for abruptly periods of time.

Looking around, Shobha marveled at the detail that truly brought this spot to sprightliness. Even the feeling of grains of guts on top of the pavers on the patio that she could feel grinding and scrunching under infantry when she moved about. The sound of the surf and undulation washing onto the grit of the beach that she was looking out at a present moment ago. The low mumble of representative in conversation about the patio and inside the café. The sound of ice in glasses and silverware and plates from the great unwashed eating. And, the medicine.

She thought it was interesting how the lyrics of the song often reflected her own sentiment and touch. Perhaps they were Floyd's thoughts and tactile sensation, since she was not the one to think of the music. A new song had begun to play on the music arrangement. An old classic By Eta James,"At Last ”, when Shobha could feel eyes upon her. Somehow, she knew it was Floyd, he had arrived, like the song ... At last. She turned to search him out.

There, just outside the door to the DoI of the café, he stood looking at her from across the patio. His almost diffident grin warmed her heart and gave her a underground petty thrill. The warmth in his eye as he drank in her appearance made her feel butterflies in her venter. He looked just as she had imagined he would. Dressed in a button-down long-sleeved silk shirt, skillful slackness and stylish yet easy shoes. Of form, he looked to be dressed this way, it was her mental imagery at child's play now. Her creative donation to their haven on the cyberspace, her imagination had dressed him this way. But it did not attain her feel excited to see him, that was something else.

Floyd came to a stopover 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 utterer around the patio. Gazing into one another's eyes again. Both finding mutual excitement and anticipation in the other's eyes.

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

"No, not long. I got here a niggling early to see all this beautiful creative activity. 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 groovy bargain of it is from your vision. The flowers for example. I had imagined only something wide-eyed like Jasmine. But You like rosiness 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 smile and glanced at the lily in her hand thoughtfully for a moment.

"It's beautiful ... like you."Floyd said with that warm smile again as he reached out and touched her mitt holding the flower, and leaned in to take a finespun sniff of its fragrance.

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

The scent of the lily was almost heavenly, but it still paled in comparison to the woman holding that flower. Was it his imagination, or hers, that supplied the aroma of her aroma. It was illuminate, floral, and enticing. He wanted to smack More of it. I wanted to be secretive to this beautiful cleaning woman. Those thoughts flashed through is mind even as a new Sung dynasty began to flirt over the music system. He recognized the air, and the singer. This was stark, and better still, it was a rattling song to which to dance.

Floyd extended his the right way hand politely and looked Shobha in her lovely browned optic and asked her."Would you like to dance ?"The opening strains of"semen Away With Me"by Norah Jones soothing his own nerves.

Shobha was a little hesitant, again. It had been so farseeing since anyone had asked her to trip the light fantastic. Did she still remember how ? Would she hinder herself if she tried ? So many interrogative, it caused her to hesitate. She chewed her bottom lip for just a second before she threw cautiousness to the air current and nodded her head and extended her own hand to Floyd in acceptance.

Floyd and Shobha stepped closer to one another. Floyd taking her right hand in his left. Shobha rested her allow for hired hand on Floyd's right shoulder as his right hand rested lightly on her will hip. They began to persuade and their feet slid lightly across the pavers underfoot, in clip to the music. As the song went on, their organic structure pressed closer and nigh to one another. Shobha could find the firmness of purpose of Floyd's chest through his silk shirt. The warmth was galvanising, it caused her to shiver slightly with delight. Her own organic structure heat rising along with her excitement. She suddenly became self-consciously aware that her own arousal was causing her nipples to harden beneath her dress as they were pressed into Floyd's chest as they danced closely.

Both seemed to relax into the motion of the dance, and into each other as they held one another close. It was a impression of affectionateness and familiarity that both had missed for their own reasons for too long. Shobha drew back just a bit to bet up into Floyd's centre only to regain him gazing openly back into her own. The soft smile on his facial expression told her that he was enjoying his time with her as much as she was being with him in this wonderful situation.

The song wound down to a conclusion and the terpsichorean on the terrace paused, some exiting to their mesa, others lingered for the following song. Floyd and Shobha had stopped dancing of path, with no euphony, but they stayed holding one another end, though they did separate just a bit in modesty as they eyed one another with almost sheeplike smile. They didn't have time to set out any conversation however, as the sound system was soon alive with yet another Sung dynasty to trip the light fantastic to.

The next birdsong * * * * * * * * * * * ion by the occupier D.J. was a little livelier than the last, but still tranquillize plenty to be considered good for slow saltation."You're Only Lonely"by J.D. souther opened with the strumming of guitars in a rhythm and tempo that just begged one's feet to move. And if one were holding someone particular close, it was all the ameliorate. The smile on Shobha's cheek was radiant. It appeared to Floyd that she too agreed with that notion.

"Did you choose this vocal, and the others ?"Shobha asked quietly, with an almost shy voice.

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

"Oh, it's wonderful and a nice song to dance to. But it's almost as if you are trying to say something through the different birdsong you've chosen."She said, as if leading Floyd to dilate more.

"Perhaps ... They do tell a story, or paint a picture, 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 similar to our own ?"Floyd said questioningly.

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

Floyd groaned silently as this was a look that many char in his past had given him and it always meant that the ma'am giving it was both rouse and maybe a fiddling anxious. queasy, but wanting to go further, he corrected himself. Shobha seemed to constrict herself even closer to him as they continued to dance and sway to the music. Their feet gliding effortlessly in sync across the terrace, the gumption grinding beneath their feet atop the pavers.

As the call wound down to a conclusion, more dancers left the patio. The sun had lowered on the celestial horizon, and as the sky grew darker, someone turned on some galvanizing queer lights that were strung over the patio giving the terpsichorean some soft lighting with which to see one another. Floyd noted that the lightness reflected in Shobha's eyes as she gazed up into his own. It was magical.

Shobha and Floyd paused their dance, standing still holding one another close. Perhaps neither wanting the evening to end so soon. Floyd was about to indicate that they have a tail and order a drunkenness, but a new song began to represent. He could feel Shobha's body begin to carry in time with the music so he didn't even bother asking her if she wanted to extend dancing. She clearly did, as did he. So, they danced to Michael Buble's rendition of"The Way You Look Tonight."

Again, for a ho-hum dancing strain, this one was a little faster tempo than virtually, but it was still dance-able and it too seemed to describe their emotions and feel in the language of the song. There was a belief of peacefulness as the two smoothly moved about the patio in time to the music. Their trunk melding together as the swayed and held each early close.

There seemed to be a growing connection between them, emotionally. Their ticker were opening up to the possibility that in one another they had found some small-scale measure of understanding and recognition of desire. This illusion, this suspended reality was growing on them, becoming more and more real with each passing minute. This time as the vocal wound down to its closing, they never stopped dancing. They continued to hold one another closely as if savoring the human touching and togetherness.

The side by side birdsong up began to play. The pacing was decidedly slower and nearly matched their heartbeats. As the singer began to talk, the language again took on a haunting caliber as Shobha and Floyd both felt as if their intellection were being sang aloud by Meghan Trainor singing"I'm Gon na have intercourse You Like I'm Gon na Lose You."

Shobha shifted her properly paw, unclasping it from Floyd's left hand and brought both of her deal to the back of Floyd's neck opening. Floyd let is now gratis bridge player settle on Shobha's redress hip. Now both hands were on her hips at her waist. This was oh so dangerously intimate. This finis, their bodies solid ground against one another. Shobha's breasts and abdomen pressing against Floyd's chest and torso. He had been conscious for some sentence of the growing bulge in his slacks. He was sure 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.

"expiration to lose you. Like the song says."She elaborated.

Floyd remained quiet for a few measure as he thought about it and they continued dancing. He then brought his right handwriting up to Shobha's delicate chin and with his fingerbreadth, gently raised her face to face at him in the center again.

"I only have fond say in that ... whether you and I lose one another. This has never been one sided, has it ? Everything we've talked about and hold shared has been for and by both of us. So, no. I think you won't fall back me without your decision to end this experimentation of ours. Either of us may change our minds at some item. Perhaps the birdcall is telling us to cherish the moment. To love one another like we are afraid that we will fall behind one another."Floyd stated, never once faltering in his stone's throw as they danced on.

Once more the Song they were dancing to ended and there was another pause before the next call began to play. Instead of separating, even pulling apart to calculate into one another's center, Shobha pulled herself even close to Floyd's bureau. Her arm around his neck and berm squeezed him tightly. Floyd feeling this, delighted in the sensation of someone wanting him so very very much physically, let his hands slip from her pelvis and wrap around to hold the small of her backbone and draw Shobha ever tighter to himself as well. Shobha sighed contentedly, a silent thank you for the affection that she felt being returned by this man in her weapons system.

An old classic, quixotic song began to play, a unforesightful tune, but one that touched nerves that both were baring to the other. The haunting melody for"smoke Gets In Your Eyes"by the phonograph recording came from the loudspeaker around the dance floor on the patio. They were soon joined by other twain who were holding each early as closely as Floyd and Shobha. Floyd felt Shobha sigh again, her warm up breath escaping her lips so close to his neck, it gave him goosebumps and he shivered slightly at the intimate sensation.

It was a short song but it was soon followed by yet another old favourite for lovers and slow dancing. Reaching way back, the D.J. played"Put Your Head On My Shoulder"by Alice Paul Anka. The old Doo Wop love story Song dynasty had them swaying and feeling dreamy in prison term with the rhythm. Like the birdcall suggested, Shobha lay her headspring on Floyd's shoulder as they continued to shake and affect with the beat. Floyd leaned his own headland over to breathe against Shobha's, his nuzzle once again filling with the fragrance of her fuzz and whatever perfume she had put on. It was magical in and of itself. He was truly in the here and now, swing away with her warmth and beauty.

The sun had edged closer to the horizon as they had been dancing. It was a dramatic and colorful pot as the sun began to dip into the sea. The sky was alight as if it were on fire, the color ranging from bright gilded yellows to reds that resembled ember of a dying fire. There was a feeling of clock time slipping away, once more. The forgetful Song only reinforced that feeling of blow over chance. The next song up on the D.J.'s play list also seemed to recall those thoughts. A slower toon, almost somber in tincture and beat."If You Don't Know Me By Now"by Simply Red.

It was lovely medicine to dance to, and dancing with each other, holding one another finale. Feeling the excitation and sexual stress between them only made the birdsong and the dancing all the more intimate indeed. Their faces were buttock to cheek as they swayed to the music. Turning only slightly brought them facial expression to face and their mouth brushed lightly together in a subdued breathless buss. The assuage feeling of their brim sent signals of wanton desire through both of their bodies and their eyes one-half closed as if barely awake. But awake they were.

When the song ended, they finally stopped dancing and simply stood in shoes, lip touching lips as the kiss grew in strength and fervor. They pulled apart just far enough to change the English that their olfactory organ were on before reengaging and parting for their tongue to come across and begin to dance. Floyd felt Shobha's finger running through the hair on the rachis of his header. His own hands had drifted up her English to just under her implements of war as he gently squeezed her as if trying to describe the kiss even closer to him.

He could sense her chest ascent and falling with each arouse breathing place, and even her inwardness drubbing within. Floyd was sure that Shobha, too, could palpate his own affectionateness beating in his chest as she was so closely to him as to nearly be a bit skin ... her breasts pressed tightly to his own chest of drawers. As exciting as it was, both knew that time was short and their visit would soon come up to an end ... for this evening. The keening of sea gulls drew both of their attending towards the beach for a moment. Both lost in their own thoughts for a few seconds. When the next vocal began to playact on the sound arrangement,"loathsome Game"by Chris Isaak, Floyd looked into Shobha's center and spoke.

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

The puzzled expression in Shobha's eyes told him her answer without her even speaking. His heart ached with a sudden nuisance of melancholy. This Sung dynasty was oh so affecting and de * * * * * * * * * * * ive for their shared situation. Meeting this way and ... feeling for one another as they did. He smiled, however, and took Shobha's hand in his and leave her to the exit from the patio out onto the sand of the beach. Pausing for a bit to kick off his skid, and Shobha followed his Pb, and took off her own shoes. Letting their bare toes and infantry be warmed by the sand.

paw in hand they strolled through the sand to the surf and then turned to take the air along the beach at the water's boundary, getting their foundation wet from sentence to meter. Each carried their shoes in one hired man, but were joined at the hip, mitt in hired man. Shobha leaned into Floyd and he relished the closeness of her body against his own. The song played on in the space behind them on the terrace of Café Mayan. The sound of the breakers and the waves gently rolling in to the beach accompanying the music.

At one point they both sensed the need to barricade and turned to front one another fully. word of honor weren't necessary, the look in each other's eyes spoke volumes that words would only flurry. They leaned in and kissed again, momentarily perhaps yielding to their growing passions and forgetting the countersign of the song that was winding down ... about not wanting to light in love.

Would that be such a bad thing. To pass in love with soul who felt the Saami desires and longings as they did ? Couldn't one making love more than just one other soul. Shobha with her late husband, and Floyd with his wife. They both knew that the former was committed and couldn't'be swayed from that love life ... but to be able to love another ? Perhaps not to the Lapp degree, but just as veridical ... as real as their legerdemain and suspended reality here anyway.

mouth embraced and caressing, tongues dancing and tasting one another. Their shoes hit the moxie as their hands freed themselves to search this other individual's consistency that was so exciting and new and for the moment anyway, so very literal. Floyd's hand went to Shobha's waist and held her for a moment, then ventured around her slope to come to lie on the in high spirits reaches of Shobha's backside. Her womanly human body cried out to be worshiped and touched, at least in Floyd's mind.

Shobha's hand ventured up Floyd's trunk her hands running over his abdomen and insipid along his chest between them. One hired hand pausing near his shoulder and the other continuing up to cup the position of his case, her palm on his cheek as they continued to osculate passionately. Who began to heave and moan softly first could cause been debated, had anyone else been around to get word it. But for this bit, they were alone. It was if the rest of the world had vanished. Their reality condensed to just a few public square meters at the edge of the sea, in the wet grit and breakers on this imagined beach.

Floyd's hands slid small still, softly but insistently gripping her cheeks, one in each hired hand, lifting Shobha slightly, pulling her closer still into his body. Shobha's helping hand left his cheek and moved once more to the back of Floyd's head, as if the anchor herself to him. Her former paw grew bold and ventured back down his chest to his waistline before pausing. Perhaps she was having 2nd thinking or momentary doubts, before it began to act again. Downward slowly, along the front of Floyd's slacks her hand, palm vapid against the material of his pants, felt the bulge that lay inside under the textile. She inhaled sharply at her own boldness perhaps.

Shobha was not the only one to breathe in sharply, almost gasped in fact. Floyd felt Shobha's hand rubbing lightly on the front of his pants and his tumid humanity within. It didn't feeling as if she were trying to initiate something to a greater extent ... physical ... but that she was letting her curiosity free to explore the possibilities. Just as he himself had view of with is own hands gripping and squeezing her fundament. Floyd couldn't, however, hold back his body from reacting to her touch even as doubtful as it might have been. His hips rolled slightly and pressed into her hand that was between them.

Floyd's reaction caused Shobha to gasp again softly as she realized that she had caused that reaction. There was some modest part of her that was nearly ecstatic about that, that she could have that effect on a man. Her confidence soared to new heights and her feminine ego seemed to grow by just a small-scale metre as well. It was exciting on so many levels.

Their faces pulled apart slightly as they broke the buss. Eyes searched center. middle raced and they were both nearly trousering as they caught their breath. The sun finally dipped below the celestial horizon and the visible radiation faded to nearly duskiness. Yet their eye shined brightly with desire and wonder at this find. A feeling of anticipation was tangible for both of them. Even as Floyd released his time lag on Shobha's backside and she met his hands at her pelvic arch with both of her own. They interlocked their fingers and held them lightly.

The sound of the surf and the gulls overhead seemed to evanesce slightly. Oddly, the sound of their heartbeats in their own ears got louder. A look of ... not quite sadness, but a little sadness came over both of them as they searched for answers in each other's eyes yet again.

"Shobha ... I ..."Floyd began, stumbling verbally as he searched for the Holy Scripture for the feelings 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 have met soul I can feel condom with, to verbalise and share my feelings and desires with. Even if it is but here in this shared space that we've created. I almost don't want to leave."She said with a saddened smile.

"I know what you mean. This home is ... magical. And you. You are like a jinni in the bottle. 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 Leslie Townes Hope that Shobha would grant him this wish.

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

Floyd could take between the communication channel, he too could feel the excitation and prediction of far 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 handwriting to his lips and kissed the dorsum of her digit delicately. Finding his phonation, he began to speak ... but the sound of a telephone ringing in the distance distracted him. Half turning his head, he broke eye contact with Shobha and the plangency grew a great deal louder ...

Suddenly Floyd found himself with his left-hand deal in front of his aspect, sitting at his desk in front of his computer. The phone beside his pc was ringing. He had to blink a few times before he realized that he was back ... back in the mundane reality of the real mankind. Yet despite the ringing of the telephone set beside him, he could faintly learn the stress of the end strain they had heard from the Café ... Wicked Game. ~I never dreamed I'd love someone ... like you ... I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you ... No, I want to precipitate in love ... No, I want to fall in love ... With you ... With you ... ~

-To be continued-