Café Mayan

~The Dance~

medicine playlist, songs from the patio of the Café Maya :

~ At Last - Etta James IV

~Come Away With Me - Norah Casey Jones

~You're Only Lonely - JD Souther

~The Way You Look Tonight - Michael Bublé

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

~Smoke Gets In Your Eyes - The platter

~Put Your forefront On My articulatio humeri - Paul Anka

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

~Wicked Game - Chris Isaak

He stood in the threshold from the street extraneous. There were table on the walk outside, of class, it was a café after all. And, while there were a few people here and there, twain mostly, the one person he was looking for was not among them. So, indoors he went. Stepping inside he had to hesitate to let his centre adjust to the lower lighting, 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 past year or so however. No, The Café Mayan 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 particular plaza. It only existed here in the ether of this realm of fantasy and illusion. Born of imagination, curiosity, desire and longing, the Café Maya was where dreams took physique and became real, even if only for legal brief periods of sentence.

fancy, and fantasy, aspiration in former words. Waking dreams, perhaps, but fueled by desires and longings of the heart and imagination. In this place, the actual cosmos took a stone's throw back and this illusion became very real indeed. It was a station where like-minded multitude could fulfil and coexist in individual as it were, for a clock time. Like all dreams, however, the time here in the Café Mayan language always cut suddenly when the real man again reclaimed the judgment and attention of those visiting here. But it was here that they all would return to prison term and time again, to rejoin in that fantasy that filled a void that many didn't fully realize until they found this place.

Floyd, took off his crown and held it up in front of himself to expect at it. A promiscuous, nicely styled dinner crown, a little sporty perhaps, but still dinner gown enough for most overnice restaurant dress requirements. He shook his brain in wry amusement as he wondered when he had imagined himself wearing a jacket in the first place as he was not one to set up for much of anything. He folded it over one arm and looked about for a coat check. There, in an bay by the door was a unseasoned lady friend smiling at him as she gave him a title just the ticket and took his cap to hang up until he was set to pull up stakes.

As he slipped the ticket into his air hole, he noticed, again with amusement, that he was not wearing his usually preferred jeans, but rather a squeamish pair of slacks. The silk button down shirt was lightweight and comfortable as were the stylish loafers on his animal foot. Now he knew that soul else had had a hand in his appearance. The conjuring trick of Café Maya it would seem. While each person has their own imagination to draw from for themselves, it also affected others here as well. Essentially, we helped each former create the illusion ... or world ... 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 center had adjusted to the let down light, he began to cull out faces here and there. Again, there were yoke and even threes and fours at some board engaged in conversations, and other things. As to be expected, some were engaged in rather passionate exchanges of whispered closeness or kissing.

The light breeze from the ocean carried through the capable doorway from the patio, causing the linens on the table to flutter at their edges. On the duck soup was, of row, the salty air from the ocean, along with the fragrance of the flower bottom on the patio. rose wine, Magnolias, Hibiscus, Jasmine ... and ... Lilies. It was the latter that led Floyd to channelize out onto the patio, following the fragrance in 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 door to let his eyes adjust. There was a strain performing over the sound system, a familiar tune, one that he felt was hauntingly intimate but that he couldn't discover the right way away. It was an instrumental version and it was winding down, the last few bars playing out as he looked around the terrace. Then he spotted her.

She was standing at the border of the patio facing the beach. A few strands of her lovely blue hair lifting on the snap blowing in from the ocean. In her custody she held a ace lily near her nose as if she had just been smelling it. The soft petals brushing her cheek as she gazed out at the breaker. She must have sensed that she was being observed however. As the adjacent song began to play over the speech sound arrangement,"At net"by Eta William James, Shobha turned and saw Floyd.

Her placid lovely face broke into a timid grin when she realized who it was. To Floyd it was if the sun had come out from behind the cloud. The Sung dynasty's lyric were oh so poignant, and fitting he thought. Somehow, he managed to walk across the terrace instead of running. Never once taking his eyes 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 little additional time to assort through her thoughts. At showtime, she had sat at a table inside, but face or perhaps nervous energy had gotten the serious of her, so she came out here on the patio. Maybe it was the mingled odor of the bloom and the salty air from the sea breeze 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 recently husband. She knew in her philia of bosom that she would never see another like him. But she still longed for meaningful companionship and yes, some exhilaration 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 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 love with his wife and didn't need a second-stringer any more than than Shobha herself needed a substitute for her late husband.

What they both needed was a ally. soul to share those feelings of yearning and desire with here in this suspended realism that they have created together. Shobha knew that she had a pictorial imagination, and it seemed as if Floyd had an stick resourcefulness as well. This very café was his melodic theme, but he had asked for her assist in making it More rattling. A place they could meet and be together if for short-change periods of time.

Looking around, Shobha marveled at the particular that truly brought this home to life. Even the tactile property of grain of sand on top of the pavers on the patio that she could feel grinding and scrunching under foot when she moved about. The sound of the breakers and waving washing onto the sand of the beach that she was looking out at a second ago. The low mumble of voices in conversation about the patio and inside the café. The sound of ice in glasses and silverware and dental plate from citizenry eating. And, the music.

She thought it was interesting how the lyrics of the Sung dynasty often reflected her own thoughts and feel. Perhaps they were Floyd's sentiment and flavor, since she was not the one to retrieve of the euphony. A new song had begun to play on the music system. An old authoritative 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 seek him out.

There, just outside the door to the Interior Department of the café, he stood looking at her from across the patio. His almost unsure grin warmed her eye and gave her a secret little thrill. The passion in his center as he drank in her appearance made her feel butterfly in her tummy. He looked just as she had imagined he would. Dressed in a button-down long-sleeved silk shirt, nice slacks and stylish yet well-fixed brake shoe. Of course, he looked to be dressed this way, it was her imagination at manoeuvre now. Her originative share to their oasis on the internet, her vision had dressed him this way. But it did not pretend her feeling excited to see him, that was something else.

Floyd came to a stop in straw man of Shobha. So very near, almost toe to toe, he looked down slightly into her bright tip-tilted look, her queasy almost shy grinning 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 reciprocal agitation and anticipation in the early's oculus.

"rich person you been waiting long ?"Floyd asked almost apologetically.

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

"It wasn't all my doing."He admitted."I think a outstanding tidy sum of it is from your imagination. The flowers for example. 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 cognizant that I had imagined it."Shobha said with a smile and glanced at the lily in her handwriting thoughtfully for a moment.

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

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

The odour 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 aroma of her perfume. It was light, floral, and enticing. He wanted to reek more of it. I wanted to be closer to this beautiful womanhood. Those thoughts flashed through is mind even as a new birdsong began to play over the music system. He recognized the line, and the Isaac Merrit Singer. This was perfect, and better still, it was a wonderful song to which to dance.

Floyd extended his mighty hand politely and looked Shobha in her adorable brown eyes and asked her."Would you like to dance ?"The opening strains of"seminal fluid Away With Me"by Norah Jones soothing his own nervus.

Shobha was a little hesitant, again. It had been so long since anyone had asked her to dance. Did she still remember how ? Would she abash herself if she tried ? So many question, it caused her to hesitate. She chewed her bottom lip for just a here and now before she threw care to the wind and nodded her head and extended her own bridge player to Floyd in sufferance.

Floyd and Shobha stepped closer to one another. Floyd taking her right hand in his left hand. Shobha rested her left handwriting on Floyd's right shoulder as his mighty helping hand rested lightly on her left hip. They began to sway and their metrical foot slid lightly across the pavers underfoot, in fourth dimension to the music. As the song went on, their bodies pressed closer and closer to one another. Shobha could feel the soundness of Floyd's chest through his silk shirt. The passion was electric automobile, it caused her to shiver slightly with delight. Her own body heat rising along with her excitement. She suddenly became self-consciously aware that her own arousal was causing her mammilla 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 stopping point. It was a feeling of affectionateness and conversancy that both had missed for their own reasonableness for too long. Shobha drew back just a bit to look up into Floyd's eye only to regain him gazing openly back into her own. The voiced grinning on his face told her that he was enjoying his time with her as very much as she was being with him in this wonderful berth.

The call wound down to a close and the dancers on the patio paused, some exiting to their tabular array, others lingered for the future song. Floyd and Shobha had stopped dancing of course of study, with no music, but they stayed holding one another finis, though they did single out just a bit in modesty as they eyed one another with almost shamefaced smiles. They didn't have time to begin any conversation however, as the audio system was soon alive with yet another song to trip the light fantastic toe to.

The next song * * * * * * * * * * * ion by the resident D.J. was a piffling livelier than the final, but still sedate enough to be considered good for boring saltation."You're Only Lonely"by J.D. souther opened with the strumming of guitars in a rhythm and pace that just begged one's feet to move. And if one were holding someone special close, it was all the just. The smiling on Shobha's face was effulgent. It appeared to Floyd that she too agreed with that notion.

"Did you choose 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 wonderful and a courteous Sung dynasty to trip the light fantastic toe to. But it's almost as if you are trying to say something through the unlike Sung dynasty you've chosen."She said, as if leading Floyd to elaborate more.

"Perhaps ... They do distinguish a story, or paint a delineation, 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 cerebration that are similar to our own ?"Floyd said questioningly.

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

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

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

Shobha and Floyd paused their dance, standing still holding one another finis. Perhaps neither wanting the even to end so soon. Floyd was about to suggest that they have a tooshie and purchase order a boozing, but a new song began to play. He could feel Shobha's organic structure begin to sway in time with the music so he didn't even bother asking her if she wanted to stay dancing. She clearly did, as did he. So, they danced to Michael Buble's rendition of"The Way You Look Tonight."

Again, for a boring dancing Song dynasty, this one was a little faster tempo than most, but it was still dance-able and it too seemed to distinguish their emotions and feelings in the words of the Song dynasty. There was a spirit of peacefulness as the two smoothly moved about the patio in clip to the music. Their bodies melding together as the swayed and held each other close.

There seemed to be a growing connection between them, emotionally. Their hearts were opening up to the possibility that in one another they had found some small measure of sympathy and recognition of desire. This trick, this suspended reality was growing on them, becoming more and more actual with each passing moment. This time as the Sung wound down to its completion, they never stopped dancing. They continued to have got one another closely as if savoring the human being tactual sensation and togetherness.

The next Song dynasty up began to play. The tempo was decidedly slower and nearly matched their heartbeats. As the singer began to sing, the language again took on a haunting quality as Shobha and Floyd both felt as if their sentiment were being sang aloud by Meghan Trainor singing"I'm Gon na get it on You Like I'm Gon na turn a loss You."

Shobha shifted her right hand, unclasping it from Floyd's left deal and brought both of her deal to the back of Floyd's neck. Floyd let is now free hand settle on Shobha's decently hip. Now both helping hand were on her hips at her waist. This was oh so dangerously familiar. This close, their eubstance ground against one another. Shobha's breasts and stomach pressing against Floyd's chest and torso. He had been conscious for some time of the growing bump 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 picayune of both ?

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

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

"going away to lose 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 right hand up to Shobha's delicate chin and with his fingerbreadth, gently raised her face to look at him in the eye 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 take 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 cherish the minute. To love one another like we are afraid that we will misplace one another."Floyd stated, never once faltering in his step as they danced on.

Once more the Song dynasty they were dancing to ended and there was another break before the side by side birdsong began to play. Instead of separating, even pulling apart to search into one another's eyes, Shobha pulled herself even tighter to Floyd's chest. Her implements of war around his neck and articulatio humeri squeezed him tightly. Floyd feeling this, delighted in the ace of soul wanting him so very much physically, let his hands slip from her hips and wrap around to halt the small of her back and haul Shobha ever tighter to himself as well. Shobha sighed contentedly, a silent thank you for the warmheartedness that she felt being returned by this man in her munition.

An old classic, wild-eyed birdsong began to play, a short-change melodic phrase, but one that touched nerve that both were baring to the other. The haunting strain for"locoweed Gets In Your centre"by the platter came from the verbaliser around the terpsichore base on the patio. They were soon joined by former couples who were holding each other as closely as Floyd and Shobha. Floyd felt Shobha sigh again, her warm breath escaping her lip so close to his neck opening, it gave him horripilation and he shivered slightly at the intimate sensation.

It was a short song but it was soon followed by yet another old favorite for fan and decelerate dancing. Reaching way back, the D.J. played"Put Your psyche On My Shoulder"by Saul Anka. The old Doo Wop romance song had them swaying and feeling dreamy in time with the pulse. Like the vocal suggested, Shobha lay her question on Floyd's shoulder as they continued to carry and incite with the measure. Floyd leaned his own head over to rest against Shobha's, his nose once again filling with the fragrance of her hair and whatever perfume she had put on. It was magical in and of itself. He was truly in the second, swept 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 great deal as the sun began to dip into the sea. The sky was alight as if it were on flak, the colors ranging from bright golden yellow to reds that resembled embers of a dying firing. There was a feeling of clip slipping away, once more. The short vocal only reinforced that touch sensation of fleeting opportunity. The next strain up on the D.J.'s playlist also seemed to echo those thoughts. A slower toon, almost somber in smell and cadence."If You Don't Know Me By Now"by Simply Red.

It was lovely music to dance to, and dancing with each other, holding one another conclusion. Feeling the excitement and sexual stress between them only made the song and the saltation all the more confidant indeed. Their faces were cheek to cheek as they swayed to the music. Turning only slightly brought them face to face and their mouth brushed lightly together in a balmy breathless passenger vehicle. The gentle touch of their brim sent sign of wanton desire through both of their bodies and their oculus half closed as if barely awake. But awake they were.

When the song ended, they finally stopped dancing and simply stood in position, lip touching lips as the kiss grew in volume and fervor. They pulled apart just far enough to alter the side that their noses were on before reengaging and parting for their glossa to take on and begin to dance. Floyd felt Shobha's finger running through the hair on the dorsum of his head. His own hands had drifted up her sides to just under her arms as he gently squeezed her as if trying to draw the buss even closer to him.

He could feel her chest revolt and falling with each charge intimation, and even her heart trouncing within. Floyd was certain that Shobha, too, could feel his own heart beating in his chest as she was so close to him as to nearly be a second skin ... her breasts pressed tightly to his own breast. As exciting as it was, both knew that metre was short and their sojourn would soon come to an end ... for this evening. The keening of sea patsy drew both of their tending towards the beach for a consequence. Both lost in their own thought for a few seconds. When the future Sung began to play on the speech sound system,"loathly Game"by Chris Isaak, Floyd looked into Shobha's eyes and spoke.

"I know this birdcall. Did you have this Sung in thinker ? Or did my subconscious mind supply it ?"

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

Hand in hired hand they strolled through the gumption to the surf and then turned to walk along the beach at the water's edge, getting their understructure wet from time to meter. Each carried their place in one hand, but were joined at the hip, hired hand in hand. Shobha leaned into Floyd and he relished the familiarity of her eubstance against his own. The song played on in the distance behind them on the terrace of Café Maya. The sound of the surf and the wave gently rolling in to the beach accompanying the music.

At one point they both sensed the motivation to discontinue and turned to present one another fully. Words weren't necessary, the tone in each other's optic spoke volumes that words would only confuse. They leaned in and kissed again, momentarily perhaps yielding to their growing passions and forgetting the words of the song that was winding down ... about not wanting to decrease in love.

Would that be such a bad affair. To fall in lovemaking with someone who felt the same desires and longings as they did ? Couldn't one love to a greater extent than just one other person. Shobha with her latterly husband, and Floyd with his wife. They both knew that the other was committed and couldn't'be swayed from that love ... but to be able-bodied to get it on another ? Perhaps not to the Saame point, but just as material ... as real as their magic trick and suspended world here anyway.

back talk embraced and caressing, tongues dancing and tasting one another. Their shoes hit the sand as their mitt freed themselves to search this other person's eubstance that was so exciting and new and for the instant anyway, so very tangible. Floyd's hired hand went to Shobha's waist and held her for a minute, then ventured around her sides to derive to rest on the high-pitched scope of Shobha's backside. Her womanly figure cried out to be worshiped and touched, at least in Floyd's mind.

Shobha's hands ventured up Floyd's body her mitt running over his abdomen and level along his chest between them. One mitt pausing near his shoulder and the former continuing up to cup the position of his face, her palm on his cheek as they continued to osculate passionately. Who began to gasp and moan softly first could have been debated, had anyone else been around to get word it. But for this moment, they were alone. It was if the rest of the world had vanished. Their realism condensed to just a few public square meters at the sharpness of the sea, in the wet sand and surf on this imagined beach.

Floyd's hands slide lower still, softly but insistently gripping her brass, one in each manus, lifting Shobha slightly, pulling her closer still into his consistence. Shobha's helping hand left his boldness and moved once to a greater extent to the back of Floyd's headway, as if the anchor herself to him. Her other hand grew boldface and ventured back down his thorax to his waistline before pausing. Perhaps she was having second thoughts or momentary doubt, before it began to move again. Downward slowly, along the movement of Floyd's slacks her hand, palm compressed against the textile of his bloomers, felt the gibbosity that lay inside under the cloth. She inhaled sharply at her own hardihood perhaps.

Shobha was not the only one to inspire sharply, almost gasped in fact. Floyd felt Shobha's mitt rubbing lightly on the front of his pant and his erect manhood within. It didn't feel as if she were trying to initiate something more ... physical ... but that she was letting her curiosity free to research the possibilities. Just as he himself had thoughts of with is own manpower gripping and squeezing her backside. Floyd couldn't, however, keep his body from reacting to her touch even as probationary as it might have been. His hips rolled slightly and pressed into her script that was between them.

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

Their faces pulled apart slightly as they broke the kiss. Eyes searched centre. Hearts raced and they were both nearly panting as they caught their breath. The sun finally dipped below the skyline and the lighting faded to nearly darkness. Yet their middle shined brightly with desire and wonder at this discovery. A feeling of anticipation was tangible for both of them. Even as Floyd released his handgrip on Shobha's backside and she met his workforce at her hips with both of her own. They interlocked their fingerbreadth and held them lightly.

The speech sound of the breaker and the chump overhead seemed to pass off slightly. Oddly, the sound of their heartbeats in their own ears got louder. A feeling of ... not quite sorrow, but a piddling sorrow came over both of them as they searched for response in each other's centre yet again.

"Shobha ... I ..."Floyd began, stumbling verbally as he searched for the words for the feelings he wished to express."I ... Thank you. give thanks 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 felicitous to have met someone I can feel prophylactic with, to express and share my feelings and desires with. Even if it is but here in this apportion space that we've created. I almost don't want to leave."She said with a saddened smile.

"I know what you mean. This office is ... magical. And you. You are like a jinni in the bottle. You are wizardly incarnate. I could dance with you every nighttime, and I am not usually a professional dancer at all. I hope ... I hope we can do this again ... sometime ?"Floyd asked awkwardly, hoping against hope that Shobha would grant him this wish.

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

Floyd could study between the course, he too could finger the exhilaration and prediction of encourage exploration of the possibilities of what they could share going forward. He smiled but his voice was choked for the import so he brought Shobha's right manus to his lips and kissed the back of her digit delicately. Finding his voice, he began to speak ... but the sound of a phone ringing in the distance distracted him. Half turning his head, he broke eye striking with Shobha and the ringing grew much louder ...

Suddenly Floyd found himself with his left hand in movement of his cheek, sitting at his desk in front line of his computing device. 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 realism of the tangible world. Yet despite the ring of the telephone beside him, he could faintly hear the strains of the 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 somebody like you ... No, I want to come in erotic love ... No, I want to fall in dear ... With you ... With you ... ~

-To be continued-