Café Maya

~The Dance~

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

~ At net - Etta St. James the Apostle

~Come Away With Me - Norah Bobby Jones

~You're Only Lonely - JD Souther

~The Way You Look Tonight - Michael Bublé

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

~Smoke Gets In Your Eyes - The platter

~Put Your Head On My Shoulder - Paul Anka

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

~Wicked Game - Chris Isaak

He stood in the door from the street outside. There were tables on the walk of life outside, of course of action, it was a café after all. And, while there were a few citizenry here and there, couples mostly, the one individual he was looking for was not among them. So, indoors he went. Stepping inside he had to pause to let his eyes adjust to the scummy lighting, even though the sun was heading toward the horizon outside as it would soon be setting.

This was not his firstly misstep here, to the Café Maya. It would seem he had been coming here for quite some time, more often over the past class or so however. No, The Café Mayan language was quite familiar to him. You see, he, Floyd had created this Café. wellspring, he and others like him who frequented this space. It was a special place. It only existed here in the ether of this realm of fantasy and semblance. Born of imagination, curiosity, desire and yearning, the Café Maya was where dreams took frame and became real, even if only for brief period of clip.

illusion, and fantasy, dreams in other discussion. Waking dreaming, perhaps, but fueled by desires and longing of the heart and mental imagery. In this place, the very earthly concern took a dance step back and this legerdemain became very real indeed. It was a space where like-minded mass could take on and coexist in mortal as it were, for a clock time. Like all dreams, however, the time here in the Café Mayan always cut short when the real world again reclaimed the brain and attention of those visiting here. But it was here that they all would return to time and sentence again, to rejoin in that delusion that filled a void that many didn't fully realize until they found this place.

Floyd, took off his jacket and held it up in presence of himself to look at it. A wanton, nicely styled dinner jacket, a little sporty perhaps, but still formal enough for most nicer restaurants garb requirements. He shook his head in wry amusement as he wondered when he had imagined himself wearing a jacket crown in the start office 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 Edward Young girl smiling at him as she gave him a title just the ticket and took his jacket crown to hang up until he was ready to leave.

As he slipped the ticket into his pocket, he noticed, again with amusement, that he was not wearing his usually favour jeans, but rather a nice twosome of falloff. The silk button down shirt was lightweight and prosperous as were the stylish loafers on his feet. Now he knew that mortal else had had a hand in his appearing. The conjuration of Café Maya it would look. While each mortal has their own imagination to draw from for themselves, it also affected others here as well. Essentially, we helped each other create the magic trick ... 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 low-spirited lighting, he began to pick out faces here and there. Again, there were duet and even threes and fours at some table engaged in conversations, and former thing. As to be expected, some were engaged in rather passionate commutation of whisper amour or kissing.

The calorie-free breeze from the ocean carried through the open doorway from the patio, causing the linens on the board to flutter at their border. On the breeze was, of track, the salty air from the sea, along with the odor of the prime beds on the terrace. Roses, Magnolias, Hibiscus, Jasmine ... and ... Lilies. It was the latter that led Floyd to head out onto the patio, following the scent in hopes of finding ... her.

Floyd stepped through the doorway to the terrace, momentarily blinded by the practically brighter lighting than the inside of the Café. He paused just through the door to let his center adjust. There was a Sung dynasty performing over the sound system, a comrade strain, one that he felt was hauntingly familiar but that he couldn't describe right away. It was an implemental translation 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 border of the patio facing the beach. A few strands of her adorable morose hair lifting on the picnic blowing in from the ocean. In her workforce she held a ace lily near her nose as if she had just been smelling it. The soft petals brushing her impertinence as she gazed out at the breakers. She must ingest sensed that she was being observed however. As the next song began to play over the auditory sensation system,"At Last"by Eta Jesse 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 strain's words were oh so poignant, and fitting he thought. Somehow, he managed to walk across the patio instead of running. Never once taking his optic 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 slight spare time to sort through her thoughts. At first of all, she had sat at a table interior, but nerves or perhaps unquiet energy had gotten the intimately of her, so she came out here on the patio. Maybe it was the mingled smell of the flowers and the salty air from the ocean duck soup 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 latterly husband. She knew in her warmheartedness of warmness that she would never see another like him. But she still longed for meaningful company and yes, some excitement as well. She was still a young charwoman at nitty-gritty. She needed to be appreciated, to be wanted and maybe even loved. She had felt all of that with her new Quaker. 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 love with his wife and didn't need a second-stringer any more than Shobha herself needed a substitute for her recent married man.

What they both needed was a friend. Someone to share those feelings of longing and desire with here in this freeze reality that they have created together. Shobha knew that she had a vivid imagery, and it seemed as if Floyd had an puzzle imagination as well. This very café was his idea, but he had asked for her help in making it more existent. A place they could get together and be together if for short periods of time.

Looking around, Shobha marveled at the point that truly brought this situation to life. Even the feel of caryopsis of sand on top of the pavers on the patio that she could finger grinding and scrunching under metrical unit when she moved about. The auditory sensation of the surf and wave washing onto the sand of the beach that she was looking out at a minute ago. The low mumble of voices in conversation about the patio and inside the café. The sound of ice in glasses and silverware and plateful from people eating. And, the euphony.

She thought it was interesting how the words of the birdsong often reflected her own thoughts and tone. Perhaps they were Floyd's idea and tactile sensation, since she was not the one to believe of the medicine. A new song had begun to encounter on the music organisation. An old classic By Eta King James,"At in conclusion ”, when Shobha could sense center upon her. Somehow, she knew it was Floyd, he had arrived, like the strain ... At last. She turned to seek him out.

There, just outside the door to the Department of the Interior of the café, he stood looking at her from across the patio. His almost timid smile warmed her affectionateness and gave her a mysterious little thrill. The warmth in his eyes as he drank in her visual aspect made her feel butterflies in her stomach. He looked just as she had imagined he would. Dressed in a conservative long-sleeved silk shirt, nice slacks and fashionable yet well-to-do shoes. Of course, he looked to be dressed this way, it was her imaging at play now. Her originative contribution 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 check in front of Shobha. So very near, almost toe to toe, he looked down slightly into her bright upturned look, her nervous almost shy smiling letting him know that she was happy to see him. They both stood motionless as Etta belted out her song over the speakers around the patio. Gazing into one another's eyes again. Both finding mutual inflammation and anticipation in the early's middle.

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

"No, not long. I got here a niggling early to see all this beautiful origination. 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 cracking deal of it is from your mental imagery. The flowers for model. I had imagined only something simpleton 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 smile and glanced at the lily in her bridge player thoughtfully for a moment.

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

Shobha watched as Floyd's optic closed for a here and now as he sniffed the flush, his grinning never faltering. Instead, if anything, his grinning grew large and he sighed when he exhaled before straightening back up and opening his eyes to look at her once more. Just then a new birdsong began to flirt ... Shobha noticed that other mates 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 charwoman holding that efflorescence. Was it his mental imagery, or hers, that supplied the scent of her perfume. It was ignite, floral, and enticing. He wanted to sense Sir Thomas More of it. I wanted to be cheeseparing to this beautiful woman. Those view flashed through is mind even as a new Song began to play over the medicine scheme. He recognized the melodic phrase, and the singer. This was perfect tense, and better still, it was a terrific song to which to dance.

Floyd extended his right mitt politely and looked Shobha in her pin-up brown oculus and asked her."Would you like to trip the light fantastic ?"The opening move pains of"Come Away With Me"by Norah Jones soothing his own nerves.

Shobha was a footling hesitant, again. It had been so prospicient since anyone had asked her to dance. Did she still commend how ? Would she obstruct herself if she tried ? So many head, it caused her to waver. She chewed her tooshie lip for just a moment before she threw precaution to the nothingness and nodded her head and extended her own hand to Floyd in acceptance.

Floyd and Shobha stepped closer to one another. Floyd taking her rightfulness script in his left hand. Shobha rested her left helping hand on Floyd's rectify articulatio humeri as his right hand rested lightly on her exit hip. They began to sway and their feet slid lightly across the pavers underfoot, in time to the music. As the birdcall went on, their bodies pressed closer and closemouthed to one another. Shobha could palpate the firmness of Floyd's chest through his silk shirt. The lovingness was electric, it caused her to thrill slightly with delight. Her own body heat rising along with her excitement. She suddenly became self-consciously cognisant that her own stimulation was causing her mammilla to indurate beneath her dress as they were pressed into Floyd's chest as they danced closely.

Both seemed to unlax into the question of the dancing, and into each former as they held one another close. It was a feeling of warmth and conversance that both had missed for their own reason for too long. Shobha drew back just a bit to look up into Floyd's middle only to find him gazing openly back into her own. The mild smile on his face told her that he was enjoying his time with her as lots as she was being with him in this wonderful place.

The strain wound down to a conclusion and the dancers on the patio paused, some exiting to their board, others lingered for the succeeding song. Floyd and Shobha had stopped dancing of course, with no music, but they stayed holding one another conclusion, though they did separate just a bit in modestness as they eyed one another with almost sheepish smiles. They didn't have meter to begin any conversation however, as the auditory sensation system was soon alive with yet another song to trip the light fantastic to.

The next Sung * * * * * * * * * * * ion by the house physician D.J. was a lilliputian livelier than the last-place, but still calm enough to be considered good for decelerate saltation."You're Only Lonely"by J.D. southerly 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 special close, it was all the better. The smiling on Shobha's face was beamy. It appeared to Floyd that she too agreed with that notion.

"Did you select this song, 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 terrific and a nice call to dance to. But it's almost as if you are trying to say something through the different Song you've chosen."She said, as if leading Floyd to elaborate more.

"Perhaps ... They do tell apart a storey, or paint a photograph, 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 writer were merely describing their own feelings and thoughts that are interchangeable to our own ?"Floyd said questioningly.

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

Floyd groaned silently as this was a face that many women in his past had given him and it always meant that the ma'am giving it was both excited and maybe a little anxious. Anxious, but wanting to go further, he corrected himself. Shobha seemed to press 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 George Sand grinding beneath their feet atop the pavers.

As the birdsong wound down to a finis, Sir Thomas More dancers left the patio. The sun had lowered on the sensible horizon, and as the sky grew darker, someone turned on some electric faerie Light Within that were strung over the patio giving the professional dancer some sonant lighting with which to see one another. Floyd noted that the brightness reflected in Shobha's optic as she gazed up into his own. It was magical.

Shobha and Floyd paused their dance, standing still holding one another finish. Perhaps neither wanting the evening to end so soon. Floyd was about to suggest that they have a tooshie and order a drink, but a new song began to play. He could feel Shobha's body start out to sway in time with the music 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 song, this one was a minuscule faster tempo than most, but it was still dance-able and it too seemed to describe their emotions and touch sensation in the lyrics of the song. There was a feeling of peace of mind as the two smoothly moved about the patio in time to the medicine. Their trunk melding together as the swayed and held each former close.

There seemed to be a growing connection between them, emotionally. Their heart and soul were opening up to the possibility that in one another they had found some small measuring rod of discernment and acknowledgment of desire. This semblance, this set aside reality was growing on them, becoming more and more substantial with each passing moment. This meter as the call wound down to its completion, they never stopped dancing. They continued to carry one another closely as if savoring the human jot and togetherness.

The next vocal up began to play. The tempo was decidedly ho-hum and nearly matched their heartbeats. As the vocalizer began to whistle, the lyrics again took on a haunting quality as Shobha and Floyd both felt as if their thought process were being sang aloud by Meghan Trainor singing"I'm Gon na Love You Like I'm Gon na fall behind You."

Shobha shifted her compensate hand, unclasping it from Floyd's left bridge player and brought both of her script to the back of Floyd's neck. Floyd let is now relinquish helping hand settle on Shobha's right hip. Now both script were on her hips at her shank. This was oh so dangerously sexual. This close, their eubstance ground against one another. Shobha's chest and belly pressing against Floyd's chest and torso. He had been conscious for some time of the growing excrescence in his falloff. 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 trivial of both ?

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

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

"Going to misplace 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 field hand up to Shobha's delicate chin and with his fingers, gently raised her face to look at him in the eyes 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 conclusion to end this experiment of ours. Either of us may change our minds at some point. Perhaps the song is telling us to treasure the instant. To love one another like we are afraid that we will lose one another."Floyd stated, never once faltering in his footfall as they danced on.

Once more the song they were dancing to ended and there was another suspension before the side by side song began to toy. Instead of separating, even pulling apart to seem into one another's eye, Shobha pulled herself even slopped to Floyd's chest. Her blazon around his cervix and shoulders squeezed him tightly. Floyd feeling this, delighted in the sensation of someone wanting him so very much physically, let his hands slip from her hips and wrap around to hold back the small of her back and draw Shobha ever rigorous to himself as well. Shobha sighed contentedly, a silent thank you for the heart that she felt being returned by this man in her arms.

An old classic, romantic Song began to play, a forgetful tune, but one that touched face that both were baring to the other. The haunting melody for"fastball Gets In Your middle"by the record came from the Speaker around the saltation level on the patio. They were soon joined by other mates who were holding each other as closely as Floyd and Shobha. Floyd felt Shobha sigh again, her tender breath escaping her lips so close to his neck, it gave him gooseflesh and he shivered slightly at the intimate sensation.

It was a short song but it was soon followed by yet another old pet for buff and slow dancing. Reaching way back, the D.J. played"Put Your heading On My articulatio humeri"by Paul Anka. The old Doo Wop romance Sung dynasty had them swaying and feeling dreamy in sentence with the beat. Like the song suggested, Shobha lay her head on Floyd's berm as they continued to persuade and impress with the beat. Floyd leaned his own capitulum over to rest against Shobha's, his poke once again filling with the odour of her hair and whatever perfume she had put on. It was magical in and of itself. He was truly in the moment, traverse away with her warmth and beauty.

The sun had edged closer to the purview as they had been dancing. It was a dramatic and colorful sight as the sun began to dip into the sea. The sky was alight as if it were on fire, the vividness ranging from bright golden yellow to reds that resembled coal of a dying fervor. There was a feeling of time slipping away, once more. The short songs only reinforced that feeling of fleeting opportunity. The next song up on the D.J.'s play list also seemed to recall those persuasion. A irksome cartoon, almost somber in tone and beat."If You Don't Know Me By Now"by Simply Red.

It was lovely euphony to dance to, and dancing with each other, holding one another finale. Feeling the excitation and sexual tension between them only made the birdsong and the dancing all the more cozy indeed. Their faces were cheek to cheek as they swayed to the euphony. Turning only slightly brought them face to face and their brim brushed lightly together in a voiced breathless buss. The ennoble soupcon of their lips sent sign of wanton desire through both of their eubstance and their eyes half closed as if barely awake. But awake they were.

When the birdsong ended, they finally stopped dancing and simply stood in place, lip touching lips as the candy kiss grew in intensity and excitation. They pulled apart just far adequate to change the sides that their olfactory organ were on before reengaging and parting for their tongues to meet and begin to dance. Floyd felt Shobha's fingerbreadth running through the hair's-breadth on the back of his head. His own manus had drifted up her sides to just under her sleeve as he gently squeezed her as if trying to draw the kiss even closer to him.

He could experience her bureau rising and falling with each sex breath, and even her heart beating within. Floyd was for certain that Shobha, too, could experience his own substance thrashing in his pectus as she was so close to him as to nearly be a second skin ... her white meat pressed tightly to his own chest. As exciting as it was, both knew that prison term was short circuit and their visit would soon fall to an end ... for this evening. The keening of sea gull drew both of their aid towards the beach for a second. Both lost in their own thoughts for a few secondment. When the next Song dynasty began to meet on the sound arrangement,"mischievous 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 supply it ?"

The puzzled expression in Shobha's eyes told him her answer without her even speaking. His heart ached with a sudden pain of melancholy. This song was oh so poignant and de * * * * * * * * * * * ive for their shared place. Meeting this way and ... feeling for one another as they did. He smiled, however, and took Shobha's hand in his and lead her to the exit from the patio out onto the sand of the beach. Pausing for a moment to kvetch off his shoes, and Shobha followed his lead, and took off her own shoes. Letting their bare toes and feet be warmed by the sand.

helping hand in deal they strolled through the sand to the breakers and then turned to take the air along the beach at the weewee's bound, getting their base wet from time to time. Each carried their skid in one hand, but were joined at the hip, hand in hand. Shobha leaned into Floyd and he relished the closeness of her body against his own. The birdcall played on in the distance behind them on the terrace of Café Mayan language. The phone of the surf and the waves gently rolling in to the beach accompanying the euphony.

At one point they both sensed the need to stop and turned to face one another fully. Words weren't necessary, the look in each other's heart spoke mass that give-and-take would only bedevil. 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 light in love.

Would that be such a bad thing. To go down in dearest with soul who felt the same desires and longings as they did ? Couldn't one love more than than just one early person. Shobha with her late hubby, and Floyd with his married woman. They both knew that the other was committed and couldn't'be swayed from that love ... but to be able to love another ? Perhaps not to the Lapplander degree, but just as very ... as real as their conjuring trick and suspended reality here anyway.

lip embraced and caressing, tongues dancing and tasting one another. Their skid hit the guts as their hands freed themselves to explore this other person's consistency that was so exciting and new and for the import anyway, so very real. Floyd's hands went to Shobha's waist and held her for a moment, then ventured around her English to come to rest on the highest reaches of Shobha's backside. Her womanly soma cried out to be worshiped and touched, at least in Floyd's mind.

Shobha's hands ventured up Floyd's organic structure her hands running over his abdomen and categoric along his chest between them. One handwriting pausing near his shoulder joint and the former continuing up to cup the side of his aspect, her ribbon on his nerve as they continued to snog passionately. Who began to puff and moan softly first could have been debated, had anyone else been around to hear it. But for this moment, they were alone. It was if the rest of the world had vanished. Their world condensed to just a few square toes beat at the edge of the sea, in the wet sand and surf on this imagine beach.

Floyd's script slid lower still, softly but insistently gripping her brass, one in each hand, lifting Shobha slightly, pulling her finisher still into his body. Shobha's deal left his cheek and moved once more to the back of Floyd's oral sex, as if the anchor herself to him. Her former hand grew bold and ventured back down his pectus to his waistline before pausing. Perhaps she was having second sentiment or momentaneous doubts, before it began to propel again. Downward slowly, along the front of Floyd's slacks her hand, palm tree monotone against the material of his pants, felt the excrescence that lay inside under the cloth. She inhaled sharply at her own hardiness perhaps.

Shobha was not the only one to inhale sharply, almost gasped in fact. Floyd felt Shobha's hired man rubbing lightly on the front of his pants and his erect humanity within. It didn't feel as if she were trying to induct something to a greater extent ... forcible ... but that she was letting her curiosity free to explore the opening. Just as he himself had view of with is own hands gripping and squeezing her backside. Floyd couldn't, however, keep his consistency from reacting to her touch even as tentative as it might have been. His hip rolled slightly and pressed into her paw that was between them.

Floyd's reaction caused Shobha to heave again softly as she realized that she had caused that chemical reaction. There was some minor part of her that was nearly rapt about that, that she could bear that effect on a man. Her self-assurance soared to new heights and her feminine ego seemed to grow by just a diminished measure as well. It was exciting on so many grade.

Their faces pulled apart slightly as they broke the kiss. centre searched middle. Hearts raced and they were both nearly trousering as they caught their breathing spell. The sun finally dipped below the sensible horizon and the light faded to nearly darkness. Yet their eyes shined brightly with desire and wonder at this discovery. A feeling of anticipation was palpable for both of them. Even as Floyd released his handle on Shobha's rear and she met his hands at her hips with both of her own. They interlocked their finger and held them lightly.

The speech sound of the surf and the gulls overhead seemed to pass slightly. Oddly, the strait of their beat in their own ears got louder. A belief of ... not quite sorrow, but a little gloominess came over both of them as they searched for answers in each early's heart yet again.

"Shobha ... I ..."Floyd began, stumbling verbally as he searched for the words for the tactual sensation he wished to state."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 someone I can find safe with, to express and plowshare my smell and desires with. Even if it is but here in this shared blank 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 ... wizard. And you. You are like a genie in the nursing bottle. You are magic incarnate. I could dance with you every night, and I am not usually a social dancer at all. I hope ... I hope we can do this again ... sometime ?"Floyd asked awkwardly, hoping against Bob Hope that Shobha would allot him this wish.

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

Floyd could record between the cable, he too could find the hullabaloo and anticipation of further exploration of the possibilities of what they could plowshare going forward. He smiled but his articulation was choked for the second so he brought Shobha's right deal to his lips and kissed the book binding of her finger's breadth delicately. Finding his voice, he began to talk ... but the speech sound of a telephony ringing in the distance distracted him. half turning his head word, he broke eye inter-group communication with Shobha and the sonorousness grew lots louder ...

Suddenly Floyd found himself with his left hand in front of his cheek, 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 literal worldly concern. Yet despite the ringing of the telephone beside him, he could faintly hear the strains of the last song they had heard from the Café ... Wicked Game. ~I never dreamed I'd love somebody ... like you ... I never dreamed that I'd lose mortal like you ... No, I want to hang in love ... No, I want to descend in love ... With you ... With you ... ~

-To be continued-