Countenance

Countenance

Rorschach Test

The table is crowded giving Jennifer the advantage of being able to glance at him, feasting her eyes on what she still considers one of the most sensual, as well as sexual men, she has ever known.

Someone pulls out a cigarette and lights it, a habit she despises, but since the smoke provides a shield for her gaze, she ignores it. Dale is talking to a woman on his right, who just happens to be his wife, a fact that she also chooses to ignore, pretending it doesn’t matter. They are discussing a small check that has been presented to them by their waiter and as Jennifer has no idea what this is about she simply turns her attention to his face. Memories of their shared afternoon of bliss at the Paradise Inn invade this moment.

Deeply tanned, having spent all year in the warm Venezuelan sun, his countenance is etched with rich lines that are characteristic of a handsome, older, American Indian face. Subdued dark brown eyes, seemingly knowing the history of all mankind, peer out of rimless glasses that perch on the arch of a gorgeous aquiline nose. Had she not known of his Indian background she would have thought him to be Roman due to the profile; however, having not been acquainted with his ethnicity she is not accustomed to this trait.

He looks straight at her as if he knows exactly what is going through her mind and continues the conversation with his wife, pointing to the bill lying on the table in front of them.

The man on Jennifer’s left is making a point, to another person at the table, about a trip he has recently taken to Caracas – leaving her with the pleasure of being entirely lost in thought and contemplation. She often notices how extremely easy it is to become invisible when amongst others, especially when there is alcohol involved. All that she finds necessary is to sit back and nod, without giving anyone or any direction her full attention.

Hair happens to be a weakness of Jennifer’s and she will admit to having had a long mane for decades. She admires the curl and thickness of Dale’s hair as long locks, rarely combed or brushed, caress his ears and the nape of his neck. She is longing to be alone with this man, having threads of his hair twisted through her fingers as he presses against her body with desire.

Someone interrupts with a joke at the end of the table – the object of her thoughts turns abruptly from dealing with the check to smile at the jester. In Jennifer’s opinion, smiling is one of the flowers of the universe, a gift so complete that the viewer must stand in awe at the bestowal of such a present. This smile is just such a benediction, perfect in its subtlety and innocence, enjoying the laugh for what it contains – a simple pleasure.

Reaching for a beer, Dale’s long and manly fingers grip the bottle with a power of suggestion that actually makes her heart skip a beat. You can tell a lot about a man through his hands – especially men who have worked at manual labor. Their hands show the heartbeat of their lives - in pleasure, in pain and in toil. She considers them rugged, as in strong and hearty, possessing a highly sensual nature unknown to office workers or executives - this has always turned her on; obviously, their bodies also usually follow this rule.

Dale’s physique leaves her believing that they both are young and virile again, with the world ahead of them instead of behind. Her lover is thin, muscular, hairless – trim beyond description for his age; the thought of having his body next to her, making slow select love, filled with multiple orgasisms, causes her to stir in the chair carelessly moving her drink, which almost overturns. Without moving his head his eyes turn to Jennifer in concern.

“Are you all right? Is anything the matter?” questions Dale’s visual nature.

She smiles in a recognition that he will instantly understand as indicating that everything is okay. The night stars begin to move into a darkening sky, shining more brightly as they travel upward in motion. Tropical breezes sway through palms close-by on a terrace – an exquisite dance in motion.

All is in union – at least between the two of them.

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