Sugar Daddy Candy

Hanna’s apartment was right around the corner. We entered an ornate wrought iron elevator which let out right into her loft like in the movies. White marble sculptures of nude women stood unfinished on platforms. Cartoonish blue, red and orange paintings of women in distress hung on the walls. A walled bookcase contained hundreds of books and two cats lay sprawled on her bed which was covered with beige satin sheets. The bed had brass posts and a headboard.

“Would you like a drink?” she asked. “I bet you are a vodka lady.”

“Yes. You got that right.” I replied sheepishly.

“I’ll make you a screwdriver. Okay?”

“Thanks,” I said, my sweet side finally coming out. When I was happy my voice rose two octaves from its bass, masculine tone. I sat down in a brown, oversized stuffed chair.

“Here you go. An American in Amsterdam,” Hanna said in a high-pitched tone.

I sat there waiting to be seduced. In all my experiences with women, that was how it had happened. I hoped it would happen this time as well.

She sat down next to me. She smelled like a rose in springtime. I recognized it as Chanel No. 5. She put her hand on my leg.

“It’s so wonderful having you here,” she said while gazing into my eyes. “Would you mind if I kissed you?”

“Uh, no. Not at all,” I said my voice reaching falsetto levels.

Her soft lips tasted like a ripe plum and then she examined my teeth with her tongue until her search for my tongue ended in a rapturous kiss. I ran my hand through her spiked blonde hair and held her head like I would my kitty’s.

We stopped kissing and held each other’s hands. The cats behaved themselves and did not get in the way. They were the witnesses to this night bathed in rhapsody.

She then untucked my white t-shirt. “Very butch,” she quipped, “but adorable.”

I could feel the heartbeat of my underthing doing double time. She touched me ever so gently and then put her lips to my breast. I cradled her head as she sucked like a fish on bait. She then put her arms around my shoulders and I fell backwards at which point she climbed on top of me. Her tongue twisted in mine like the swirls of a candlelabra.

I finally closed my eyes and entered the paradise of consummated love.

She got up from the sofa and led me by hand to the bed. “I want to make love to you,” she said softly.