Michele Bravo and the Sole Remedy : Chapter 1. Present Day, London England
One of the most popular revivals on the London stage is Noel Coward’s Private Lives,
a four-hander play, meaning it featured four actors, two males and two
females. Newlyweds Elyot and Sybil are honeymooning in a hotel in
France. Newlyweds Amanda and Victor are also there. Elyot and Amanda had
once married, are now divorced, and yet are still in love with each
other. Comedy ensues as the two couples switch around, and then around
again.
For this revival, American heartthrob Robert Wade was playing Elyot, and Phoebe Taylor was playing Amanda.
Michele
Bravo, who had decided to take a vacation in London to recover from the
shock of having had to give up her Taran Tula identity, had purchased a
copy of the West End theatre and movie weekly guide, What’s On in London, practically as soon as the plane had touched down at Gatwick, and checked to see the times of the play.
Eighteen
years ago, when she’d been a mature 18, she’d met Robert Wade on the
Britannia’s maiden voyage from New York to Southampton. The project that
should have made him a star, the remake of The Creature from the Black Lagoon,
fell through, and he decided to remain in London, where roles for
“token” Americans were plentiful. He soon found the stardom that had
eluded him in the States, just as British actors Hugh Laurie and Tim
Roth would later achieved stardom in the States (with House and Lie to Me, respectively.)
After
the ship docked in Southhampton, Michele had remained in London for
several weeks, researching more material for the travelzine her sister
published (waiting for her report date to Air Force basic training). She
and Wade became good friends, and it was just a few days before she
left for the States that they had made love for the first time – Wade
believing her to be Alice Bravo and 23 years old.
Even
now, 18 years later, he didn’t know the truth. They had corresponded
while she’d been in the Air Force in Germany, and they’d visited each
other on occasion. She’d left the Air Force after six years, and told
him she’d formed a private detective agency, capitalizing on her
experience in the Security Forces. A couple of times a year, Michele
visited London and they got together for a couple of days.
Michele thought of it as her own Same Time, Next Year tradition. They met, they made love, they talked about old times, and then they went about their lives.
Michele
had taken a first class flight to London. Normally she wasn’t so
extravagant, but her roulette winnings were burning a hole in her
pocket, and she felt the need to pamper herself. Normally, she wasn’t
able to sleep on a plane, and usually arrived at her destination
suffering from jet lag. But with the comfy lounge chairs in the Airbus,
she’d managed to fall asleep and sleep for most of the flight.
So on the very day of her arrival in London, she’d decided to go see Private Lives.
After
the curtain fell, the audience rose to its feet to give the cast a
standing ovation. Then, they filed out of the theater, talking
animatedly. As with all theaters, a handful of theatergoers gathered
around the stage door to meet and talk with the actors when they exited
the theater. They hoped to get autographs, perhaps have their photos
taken with this or that actor, and some doubtless hoped for more – and
on occasion got it.
Michele hung back at the edge of
the crowd, listening to the muted comments and discussions from the
playgoers. She was pleased to hear they were all praising Robert’s
performance enthusiastically.
The actors came out one
by one, uniformly cheerful and delighted to sign autographs and exchange
a few words with their fans. Robert was the last to emerge. After most
of the crowd had dispersed, and only a single young woman remained,
Michele moved in ruthlessly.
“Hello, Mr. Wade,” she said in her best upper class British accent. “I’ve got your car. You mustn’t keep Her Majesty waiting.”
“Thank
you, Alice,” Robert told her gravely. He gave a final smile to the
hopeful fan and then he and Michele walked briskly off.
As soon as they turned a corner he turned to and hugged her. “Alice! Why didn’t you let me know you were coming?”
“I didn’t know myself until yesterday. I decided to indulge a whim.”
“I’m so glad to see you!”
“And I, you.”
She
rested her hands on his chest and gazed into his eyes. “Have you
followed your usual practice? Living with a fellow actor in town and
going home only on the weekends?”
“Yes, and Greville (the actor playing Victor) always stays out and drinks for a while. So we’ve plenty of time.”
“Then let’s go!”
They
took the tube to Kensington station, alighted there and went into a
block of flats. Many of the actors who worked in the West End followed
the same practice, sharing digs in the City during the week, and
traveling home to their wives and families on the weekend. (Leaving
their understudies to take over their roles.) Homes were so much less
expensive outside the city of London proper that it made a lot of fiscal
sense to live in a bedroom community nearby.
Once inside Robert’s flat, Robert immediately embraced her and kissed her long and deeply.
“It’s good to see you again,” he repeated.
They
moved into this bedroom, and she stood behind him and nibbled at his
neck as he unbuttoned and shrugged out of his shirt, then stepped out of
slacks and underwear. He turned and helped her to unbutton her own
blouse, then he unhooked her bra and let her breasts bob free. He bent
his head down and gently sucked at a nipple.
He backed
her up against the bed and laid her down upon it, then lay by her side
and for some time they just caressed and kissed.
Finally,
he reached out and guided her hand down to his penis, which was rock
hard and standing at attention. She massaged it for a time with her
hand, then scooched around so that she could take its length into her
mouth. Meantime, she so arranged her legs that he would have free access
to her clitoris, and he bent down and began to lick her clit with long,
steady licks.
She was lost in the pleasure of it, both
what was going on between her legs and the steady sucking motion she
was putting on his smooth, hard cock, swirling her tongue around the tip
of his circumcised cock as if it were an ice cream.
Then,
she began to feel the fluttering in her thighs and the sudden warmth
that told her she was about to cum. She sealed her lips tighter around
Robert’s cock and began going up and down more quickly, which gave him
the signal that she was about to cum. Then, she did cum, as waves of
pleasure ran up her thighs, and she had to stop a bit to enjoy the
pleasure of it.
Then, she resumed her work on Robert’s
cock, and within seconds his whole body was jerking as his pleasure
fountained up into her mouth.
Afterwards, they lay side by side on the bed, relaxing and holding hands, content.
Thursday, May 31, 2012
Sunday, May 27, 2012
Dangerous Moonlight ch 9
September 5, 1990
Michele Bravo stood at the prow of the Britannia, watching the dolphins body-surf along the wake. The moon was riding high in the sky, and its pale light coated the water with a silver glow.
Truth to tell, she was feeling bored. She was not a party girl, or a conversationalist, come to that…and that was all that was available on this ship. If it had been the Caribbean, now, she could get off at every port and see the sights and talk to people of different cultures…but on this ship, heading across the Atlantic Ocean toward England, there was nothing but miles and miles of water.
She’d be meeting Robert Wade for a swim the next morning, but that ship had sailed, as far as she was concerned. After her initial burst of euphoria it had occurred to her that if he’d really wanted to talk and…do other things….he would have made a date with her for that night, not just said, “Hey, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
After she’d exchanged her swimsuit for shorts and a t-shirt earlier that day, she’d continued her rounds of all the activities offered by the cruise ship – the dancing (she was getting good at the Charleston, and after only two lessons!) the art gallery, she’d attended a couple of lectures, and she’d watched a lot of fun movies, true.
Meantime, Patrick, apparently getting the feeling he wasn’t going to get anywhere with her, had moved on to another woman, and indeed, she’d seen them together at one of the dances. And of course, relief at being free of him warred with the feeling that it sure hadn’t taken him very long to replace her….but it was like her sister had said, everyone wanted shipboard romance, what happened on the ship stayed on the ship, and once the ship hit port, everyone went their separate ways and anyone who thought log-lasting relationships would be formed was foolish.
Another three days, Michele thought disconsolately. If I’d taken a plane I’d be in London seeing a play in the West End right now!
“Wait a minute,” she thought. “There’s skeet shooting off the back of the boat every day…I’ve yet to give that a try….that could be kind of fun.”
Well, it had been a long day. She’d check to see if one of the restaurants was open and perhaps get an ice cream sundae before turning in.
When she walked into the Neptune’s Nook, her eyes lit on Robert Wade. He looked up at her guiltily…not because he didn’t want to see her, she perceived, but because he was in the process of devouring a huge hot-fudge sundae with brownies, and whipped cream.
“I’m supposed to be on a diet,” he told her confidentially. “But, hell…excuse my French…if they want me to stick to a diet they shouldn’t put me on a cruise where they’ve got restaurants open 24-hours a day.”
“If I have some of your sundae, that’ll be only half the calories for you,” Michele suggested.
“Sure. Grab a spoon.”
Michele did so.
“Eat from that side,” he ordered. “I don’t have any germs and I’m sure you don’t either, but just for propriety’s sake.”
Michele spooned some hot-fudge covered brownie into her mouth.
“I’m going to try skeet shooting tomorrow afternoon,” she told him. “That’s about the only thing on this ship I haven’t tried. Would you like to join me?”
“Sure.”
“So,” said Wade, “It must be fun, being a travel writer.”
“A family tradition,” said Michele. “My mother started the business, my sister carried on. Me…I’m thinking of jumping ship.”
“Oh? What are you going to do instead?”
“Air Force,” she said. “My father was in the Air Force, I’ve been thinking of carrying on the tradition.”
“That’ll work,” said Wade. “You get to travel everywhere for free in the Air Force, too.”
“Yep,” said Michele with a grin.
“What field?” he asked.
She pushed at her glasses. “I’d like to be a pilot, but that’s not going to happen. I was thinking of the Security Forces.”
"The Security Forces?"
"Yes...they used to be the Air Police, or AP for short. MPs, military police, those are army. SP, shore police, those are Navy and Marines. AP, air police, is of course, the Air Force. But of course they had to change the name, way back in 1967, I guess, to Security Forces. But to cut out the pedantry, I'm going to be an SP."
“Sounds good. So, you were an Air Force brat?”
“Yeah. Traveled everywhere when I was a kid. Germany, Japan, England. Not to mention several places in the States, too. I’ve had a bit of wanderlust ever since. I hate to stay in one place.”
“Sounds like you’re pretty independent, too.”
Michele nodded. “I usually am pretty happy in my own company. So, how are you liking the cruise?”
They talked far into the night. It turned out that Wade also was a WWII buff, and although his scope of knowledge was broader than hers, they could discuss the relative merits of the planes used by the various air forces quite intelligently, cumulating in a friendly argument on which plane had been more important to the British during the Battle of Britain, the Spitfire or the Hurricane.
Wade escorted her to her cabin and kissed her goodnight on the cheek.
September 6, 1990
The next morning, Michele and Robert Wade met and swam in companionable silence. After they finished their laps and got dressed, they walked to the back of the ship where the trap shooting was to take place.
“I’ve done a bit of shooting,” Wade told the attendant, “and I’ve watched a bit of it,” said Michele with a grin.
The attendant gave them shotguns, showed how to load them and how to stand when they were firing.
“I throw the clay disc into the air,” she said, “You follow it along with the battle of your shotgun, go out a little further to lead the disc, and then shoot.”
Michele missed her first three tries, each blast coming closer and closer, however, until with her fourth shot she finally hit the disc dead center and shattered it. She and Wade exchanged high-fives.
After that, she was hooked, and made a respectable showing, with a 70% success rate.
“Although they throw it very slow, eh?” she commented to Wade, as they headed for lunch. “A real skeet shoot meet probably has those things going pretty fast.”
“You seem to be a natural. I think you’ll be pretty good with some practice.”
She enjoyed the lunch. Wade was funny, he told stories, but he was also an attentive listener. As an 18-year old she didn’t have a fund of stories she thought he’d be interested in, but her sister Alice had told her quite a few funny stories in her adventures as a travel correspondent, and after all, as far as this trip was concerned, she was Alice.
After lunch, Wade told her he had to go spend some time with his agent, and that he’d see her the next day at the pool. “See you then,” she replied with a smile.
As she walked back toward the skeet shoot – she intended to get in some more practice – she decided that she really liked Robert Wade…as a person. She hoped that this seed that was just starting to grow would blossom into a long-term friendship.
Unfortunately, if it did, it would be as Alice Bravo, not Michele.
Michele had learned some Shakespeare in school…. “Oh, what a tangled web we weave….”
Well, the web had been woven, she’d just have to carry on with it!
She hoped she’d have a chance to carry on with it!
Michele Bravo stood at the prow of the Britannia, watching the dolphins body-surf along the wake. The moon was riding high in the sky, and its pale light coated the water with a silver glow.
Truth to tell, she was feeling bored. She was not a party girl, or a conversationalist, come to that…and that was all that was available on this ship. If it had been the Caribbean, now, she could get off at every port and see the sights and talk to people of different cultures…but on this ship, heading across the Atlantic Ocean toward England, there was nothing but miles and miles of water.
She’d be meeting Robert Wade for a swim the next morning, but that ship had sailed, as far as she was concerned. After her initial burst of euphoria it had occurred to her that if he’d really wanted to talk and…do other things….he would have made a date with her for that night, not just said, “Hey, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
After she’d exchanged her swimsuit for shorts and a t-shirt earlier that day, she’d continued her rounds of all the activities offered by the cruise ship – the dancing (she was getting good at the Charleston, and after only two lessons!) the art gallery, she’d attended a couple of lectures, and she’d watched a lot of fun movies, true.
Meantime, Patrick, apparently getting the feeling he wasn’t going to get anywhere with her, had moved on to another woman, and indeed, she’d seen them together at one of the dances. And of course, relief at being free of him warred with the feeling that it sure hadn’t taken him very long to replace her….but it was like her sister had said, everyone wanted shipboard romance, what happened on the ship stayed on the ship, and once the ship hit port, everyone went their separate ways and anyone who thought log-lasting relationships would be formed was foolish.
Another three days, Michele thought disconsolately. If I’d taken a plane I’d be in London seeing a play in the West End right now!
“Wait a minute,” she thought. “There’s skeet shooting off the back of the boat every day…I’ve yet to give that a try….that could be kind of fun.”
Well, it had been a long day. She’d check to see if one of the restaurants was open and perhaps get an ice cream sundae before turning in.
When she walked into the Neptune’s Nook, her eyes lit on Robert Wade. He looked up at her guiltily…not because he didn’t want to see her, she perceived, but because he was in the process of devouring a huge hot-fudge sundae with brownies, and whipped cream.
“I’m supposed to be on a diet,” he told her confidentially. “But, hell…excuse my French…if they want me to stick to a diet they shouldn’t put me on a cruise where they’ve got restaurants open 24-hours a day.”
“If I have some of your sundae, that’ll be only half the calories for you,” Michele suggested.
“Sure. Grab a spoon.”
Michele did so.
“Eat from that side,” he ordered. “I don’t have any germs and I’m sure you don’t either, but just for propriety’s sake.”
Michele spooned some hot-fudge covered brownie into her mouth.
“I’m going to try skeet shooting tomorrow afternoon,” she told him. “That’s about the only thing on this ship I haven’t tried. Would you like to join me?”
“Sure.”
“So,” said Wade, “It must be fun, being a travel writer.”
“A family tradition,” said Michele. “My mother started the business, my sister carried on. Me…I’m thinking of jumping ship.”
“Oh? What are you going to do instead?”
“Air Force,” she said. “My father was in the Air Force, I’ve been thinking of carrying on the tradition.”
“That’ll work,” said Wade. “You get to travel everywhere for free in the Air Force, too.”
“Yep,” said Michele with a grin.
“What field?” he asked.
She pushed at her glasses. “I’d like to be a pilot, but that’s not going to happen. I was thinking of the Security Forces.”
"The Security Forces?"
"Yes...they used to be the Air Police, or AP for short. MPs, military police, those are army. SP, shore police, those are Navy and Marines. AP, air police, is of course, the Air Force. But of course they had to change the name, way back in 1967, I guess, to Security Forces. But to cut out the pedantry, I'm going to be an SP."
“Sounds good. So, you were an Air Force brat?”
“Yeah. Traveled everywhere when I was a kid. Germany, Japan, England. Not to mention several places in the States, too. I’ve had a bit of wanderlust ever since. I hate to stay in one place.”
“Sounds like you’re pretty independent, too.”
Michele nodded. “I usually am pretty happy in my own company. So, how are you liking the cruise?”
They talked far into the night. It turned out that Wade also was a WWII buff, and although his scope of knowledge was broader than hers, they could discuss the relative merits of the planes used by the various air forces quite intelligently, cumulating in a friendly argument on which plane had been more important to the British during the Battle of Britain, the Spitfire or the Hurricane.
Wade escorted her to her cabin and kissed her goodnight on the cheek.
September 6, 1990
The next morning, Michele and Robert Wade met and swam in companionable silence. After they finished their laps and got dressed, they walked to the back of the ship where the trap shooting was to take place.
“I’ve done a bit of shooting,” Wade told the attendant, “and I’ve watched a bit of it,” said Michele with a grin.
The attendant gave them shotguns, showed how to load them and how to stand when they were firing.
“I throw the clay disc into the air,” she said, “You follow it along with the battle of your shotgun, go out a little further to lead the disc, and then shoot.”
Michele missed her first three tries, each blast coming closer and closer, however, until with her fourth shot she finally hit the disc dead center and shattered it. She and Wade exchanged high-fives.
After that, she was hooked, and made a respectable showing, with a 70% success rate.
“Although they throw it very slow, eh?” she commented to Wade, as they headed for lunch. “A real skeet shoot meet probably has those things going pretty fast.”
“You seem to be a natural. I think you’ll be pretty good with some practice.”
She enjoyed the lunch. Wade was funny, he told stories, but he was also an attentive listener. As an 18-year old she didn’t have a fund of stories she thought he’d be interested in, but her sister Alice had told her quite a few funny stories in her adventures as a travel correspondent, and after all, as far as this trip was concerned, she was Alice.
After lunch, Wade told her he had to go spend some time with his agent, and that he’d see her the next day at the pool. “See you then,” she replied with a smile.
As she walked back toward the skeet shoot – she intended to get in some more practice – she decided that she really liked Robert Wade…as a person. She hoped that this seed that was just starting to grow would blossom into a long-term friendship.
Unfortunately, if it did, it would be as Alice Bravo, not Michele.
Michele had learned some Shakespeare in school…. “Oh, what a tangled web we weave….”
Well, the web had been woven, she’d just have to carry on with it!
She hoped she’d have a chance to carry on with it!
Monday, May 21, 2012
I crave your indulgence
My mother's sister is visiting for three days.
My mom's deaf as a post, my dad can't be bothered to get out of his chair, so I will be doing the entertaining - the chauffeuring and the talking and the communicating - for the next three days.
So I'll be posting back here Thursday.
Thanks for your patience.
My mom's deaf as a post, my dad can't be bothered to get out of his chair, so I will be doing the entertaining - the chauffeuring and the talking and the communicating - for the next three days.
So I'll be posting back here Thursday.
Thanks for your patience.
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Erotica by Bravo #3 – Underwater Gavotte
Erotica by Bravo #3 – Underwater Gavotte
The body cleaving through the crystal clear blue water was that of a woman. Her well-tanned arms cleaved the water as she kicked rhythmically with powerful legs. Her white one-piece swimsuit fit her well, highlighting her tan and sexy figure….
She swam through water as calm as a swimming pool, for all that that she was in a lagoon….the Black Lagoon. She wore goggles, for the water was salty and stinging to the eyes, but being goggles rather than a scuba mask she couldn’t really see all that much, as she swam leisurely on and on.
Anchored at one edge of the lagoon, just too one side of the entrance to the lagoon from the ocean, was a gleaming white research craft, the Tanhi. She was a researcher, a marine biologist, come to this lagoon along with two other researchers – handsome male researchers, to investigate the discovery of a fossilized hand that looked as if it had belonged to something that was half fish, half human…and extinct for thousands of years.
About three fathoms below her, a humanoid shape appeared, and began to swim in the same direction. The shape swam face up, so that it could see her white-clad body swimming against the sun’s rays that penetrated the crystal clear water. . if someone were filming the scene from a distance, it could be seen as almost ballet like…almost a dance….with the male figure below mimicking the swimming movements of the female above.
Then, without warning, the male figure rose, making for the woman. He reached out a hand to touch her foot, then clasped his hand around her ankle and tugged her under water.
Michele twisted and turned to look with wide eyes at her attacker. Through goggled eyes she saw that it was Garth, one of the two male biologists on board the research ship. He was grinning around the scuba mouthpiece. She wrapped her legs around his wait for purchase, then used both hands to pull up his scuba mask, then let it go with a twang.
They both broke the surface together, laughing.
Then Michele slapped water at him. “Don’t do that! Scared me!”
“Sorry, Michele, I couldn’t resist. You looked so lovely, silhouetted against the sun like that.”
“Like that poor girl in Jaws, eh, who turned into a snack.”
“I was thinking of a different movie entirely,” Garth murmured.
“Yeah, well…”
They were bobbing on the surface, holding onto each other’s arms, faces very close together. Their eyes met, they came closer….they kissed.
Garth brought his hands up to her shoulders, tugging on the straps of her suit. They came down past her shoulders easily enough, but after that, it was not so easy. The wet fabric stuck to her body.
“Jeez, girl,” said Garth. “Why don’t you wear a bikini? It would make it so much easier. “
“That’s exactly why,” laughed Michele. “I like to make you work for it.”
Even with her legs wrapped around her waist to give him purchase, he couldn’t quite get the suit off, and sent them spinning head down into the water on more than one occasion.
“Fun as this is,” he said, spitting out water after his last attempt, “I’m ready to give up. Why don’t we get to shore, place all the parts in the right places, and then get back into the water.”
They followed this plan.
Once on shore, Garth helped her off with her swimsuit, and stepped out of his own.
Michele lay back on her suit, and Garth maneuvered himself on top of her….
At this point, Michele stopped writing and turned to look at the cabin door, more than half expecting her roommate to come tottering in and head for the toilet bowl. But no such interruption occurred.
Michele returned to her story, and shortly afterwards that Michele was lost in waves of orgasmic pleasure.
Michele may have been a virgin, but she knew all about waves of orgasmic pleasure, having been the grateful possessor of a vibrator since she was 16.
Indeed, after she’d completed the story, she took out her own vibrator and put it to use on her wet clitoris and within seconds began to get the feeling that her own waves of orgasmic pleasure were about to start, too.
The only thing missing was the feeling of a strong male arm around her shoulders, and lips pressed against hers as their two tongues danced a tango….
The body cleaving through the crystal clear blue water was that of a woman. Her well-tanned arms cleaved the water as she kicked rhythmically with powerful legs. Her white one-piece swimsuit fit her well, highlighting her tan and sexy figure….
She swam through water as calm as a swimming pool, for all that that she was in a lagoon….the Black Lagoon. She wore goggles, for the water was salty and stinging to the eyes, but being goggles rather than a scuba mask she couldn’t really see all that much, as she swam leisurely on and on.
Anchored at one edge of the lagoon, just too one side of the entrance to the lagoon from the ocean, was a gleaming white research craft, the Tanhi. She was a researcher, a marine biologist, come to this lagoon along with two other researchers – handsome male researchers, to investigate the discovery of a fossilized hand that looked as if it had belonged to something that was half fish, half human…and extinct for thousands of years.
About three fathoms below her, a humanoid shape appeared, and began to swim in the same direction. The shape swam face up, so that it could see her white-clad body swimming against the sun’s rays that penetrated the crystal clear water. . if someone were filming the scene from a distance, it could be seen as almost ballet like…almost a dance….with the male figure below mimicking the swimming movements of the female above.
Then, without warning, the male figure rose, making for the woman. He reached out a hand to touch her foot, then clasped his hand around her ankle and tugged her under water.
Michele twisted and turned to look with wide eyes at her attacker. Through goggled eyes she saw that it was Garth, one of the two male biologists on board the research ship. He was grinning around the scuba mouthpiece. She wrapped her legs around his wait for purchase, then used both hands to pull up his scuba mask, then let it go with a twang.
They both broke the surface together, laughing.
Then Michele slapped water at him. “Don’t do that! Scared me!”
“Sorry, Michele, I couldn’t resist. You looked so lovely, silhouetted against the sun like that.”
“Like that poor girl in Jaws, eh, who turned into a snack.”
“I was thinking of a different movie entirely,” Garth murmured.
“Yeah, well…”
They were bobbing on the surface, holding onto each other’s arms, faces very close together. Their eyes met, they came closer….they kissed.
Garth brought his hands up to her shoulders, tugging on the straps of her suit. They came down past her shoulders easily enough, but after that, it was not so easy. The wet fabric stuck to her body.
“Jeez, girl,” said Garth. “Why don’t you wear a bikini? It would make it so much easier. “
“That’s exactly why,” laughed Michele. “I like to make you work for it.”
Even with her legs wrapped around her waist to give him purchase, he couldn’t quite get the suit off, and sent them spinning head down into the water on more than one occasion.
“Fun as this is,” he said, spitting out water after his last attempt, “I’m ready to give up. Why don’t we get to shore, place all the parts in the right places, and then get back into the water.”
They followed this plan.
Once on shore, Garth helped her off with her swimsuit, and stepped out of his own.
Michele lay back on her suit, and Garth maneuvered himself on top of her….
At this point, Michele stopped writing and turned to look at the cabin door, more than half expecting her roommate to come tottering in and head for the toilet bowl. But no such interruption occurred.
Michele returned to her story, and shortly afterwards that Michele was lost in waves of orgasmic pleasure.
Michele may have been a virgin, but she knew all about waves of orgasmic pleasure, having been the grateful possessor of a vibrator since she was 16.
Indeed, after she’d completed the story, she took out her own vibrator and put it to use on her wet clitoris and within seconds began to get the feeling that her own waves of orgasmic pleasure were about to start, too.
The only thing missing was the feeling of a strong male arm around her shoulders, and lips pressed against hers as their two tongues danced a tango….
Friday, May 11, 2012
Dangerous Moonlight Chapter 7
Dangerous Moonlight Chapter 7: Teaser
September 4, 1990
And of course he wasn’t there the next morning.
“Should have known,” Michele murmured to herself as tossed her terrycloth robe onto one of the deckchairs and slipped into the water, choosing the center lane as usual. She started to swim.
She’d been conflicted, both hoping he’d be there and hoping he’d not be there. And so now she was both disappointed, and kind of hurt, as well as relieved.
“Jesus, kid, get a grip,” she told herself as she swam. “You’re acting like such a schoolgirl. And for how many years were you feeling all superior over all those girls at school who spent their time mooning over boys instead of getting on with their lives?”
She’d never felt sexually interested in any of the boys in her high school, from sophomore right up until senior. She preferred “older” men, like Captain Kirk from that old TV show, Star Trek, or Richard Boone from Have Gun Will Travel, or Mike Nelson from Seahunt, shows she’d used to watch with her parents when she was growing up. (Thank heavens for TVLand reruns.)
She had had a crush on one of her English teachers….after learning that in the summer months he was a smoke jumper.
And that had given her her clue. She was attracted to action-oriented guys. Not necessarily the most handsome guys on the block, but the ones who were out there living their lives, being heroes, already mature, and not learning how to be mature.
So why had she been so suddenly attracted to Robert Wade? He was the right age, early thirties, but she’d never seen any of his movies. Still, he did sort of resemble William Shatner….same square face, same high cheekbones, same muscular body (at least during his Captain Kirk days!)…
Well, it didn’t matter, he wasn’t coming.
And it was time for her to stop playing this stupid game anyway. She’d allowed herself to get excited, she’d done a little fantasizing, but really, did she want to give away her virginity to a one-night stand on a cruise ship? Even with a handsome actor? No, this was probably all for the best.
She was wearing a red one-piece. She’d intended to bring only one swimsuit, her blue one, but Alice had supervised her wardrobe and advised her to pick up a couple more. “When you’re swimming at your local pool, you can wear the same suit every day. But when you’re on a cruise, you should have a change of suits. Just as you’ve got to have a different set of clothing for each day.”
“My suitcases will weigh a ton!”
“They’ve got porters!”
So she’d picked up a white suit and a red one, to have a patriotic theme. And she’d decided to wear the red suit today, because while blue was her favorite color, red had always been her lucky color.
“So much for luck,” she thought.
She sped up the speed of her laps.
“Well, maybe it was luck,” she thought after a few more laps. “After all, actors…”
Her mind drifted into other channels…. her sister and mom wanted her to come in on the family business of travel and travel writing….and that would certainly fulfill her dream of spending her life traveling….her dad wanted her to go into the Air Force. She wouldn’t have minded being a pilot, but although her eyesight wasn’t that bad it wasn’t good enough to be a pilot…
Michele completed her twenty-fifth lap and decided that was enough for the morning. She had places to go, things to do.
She levered herself out of the pool and, plucking up her robe, headed for the women’s locker room to take a shower.
“Hey!”
She turned around, and her heart gave a little leap. He’d just come out of the men’s locker room.
“Hi,” she said. “I didn’t think you were coming.”
“I got held up. Had to talk to my agent.”
“Oh….good news, I hope.”
He shrugged. “Promising news, anyway. In this business you learn not to get your hopes up until the producer’s signature is on the contract.”
She was now well educated on Robert Wade’s career, after visiting a few message boards that gossiped about actors. He’d guest-starred on a few popular TV series, and been the side-kick in two moderately successful movies, and there was an unconfirmed rumor going around that he was supposed to be the star in a planned remake of a movie called The Creature from the Black Lagoon.
“You’re up for a role in ….Creature From the Black Lagoon, right?”
“Yes,” he said, his face brightening. “How did you know?”
“Oh, I have my sources.”
“That’s why I’m working hard on my swimming,” he continued, gesturing toward the pool. “I’ll be spending practically the whole movie underwater, if things work out right.”
“I hope they do,” she said.
“Thanks.” He glanced at her dripping form. “You’ve finished your laps already, then?”
“Yes. I’ve got places to go…”
“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then, okay?”
“Sure,” said Michele. “I’ll be here.”
He nodded to her and then turning, took a few steps and dove into the pool.
Michele found the privacy of the women’s locker room, where she allowed herself to giggle uncontrollably for a minute or so before sternly telling herself to get a grip.
She’d have much to dream about tonight…and who knew what would happen tomorrow?
September 4, 1990
And of course he wasn’t there the next morning.
“Should have known,” Michele murmured to herself as tossed her terrycloth robe onto one of the deckchairs and slipped into the water, choosing the center lane as usual. She started to swim.
She’d been conflicted, both hoping he’d be there and hoping he’d not be there. And so now she was both disappointed, and kind of hurt, as well as relieved.
“Jesus, kid, get a grip,” she told herself as she swam. “You’re acting like such a schoolgirl. And for how many years were you feeling all superior over all those girls at school who spent their time mooning over boys instead of getting on with their lives?”
She’d never felt sexually interested in any of the boys in her high school, from sophomore right up until senior. She preferred “older” men, like Captain Kirk from that old TV show, Star Trek, or Richard Boone from Have Gun Will Travel, or Mike Nelson from Seahunt, shows she’d used to watch with her parents when she was growing up. (Thank heavens for TVLand reruns.)
She had had a crush on one of her English teachers….after learning that in the summer months he was a smoke jumper.
And that had given her her clue. She was attracted to action-oriented guys. Not necessarily the most handsome guys on the block, but the ones who were out there living their lives, being heroes, already mature, and not learning how to be mature.
So why had she been so suddenly attracted to Robert Wade? He was the right age, early thirties, but she’d never seen any of his movies. Still, he did sort of resemble William Shatner….same square face, same high cheekbones, same muscular body (at least during his Captain Kirk days!)…
Well, it didn’t matter, he wasn’t coming.
And it was time for her to stop playing this stupid game anyway. She’d allowed herself to get excited, she’d done a little fantasizing, but really, did she want to give away her virginity to a one-night stand on a cruise ship? Even with a handsome actor? No, this was probably all for the best.
She was wearing a red one-piece. She’d intended to bring only one swimsuit, her blue one, but Alice had supervised her wardrobe and advised her to pick up a couple more. “When you’re swimming at your local pool, you can wear the same suit every day. But when you’re on a cruise, you should have a change of suits. Just as you’ve got to have a different set of clothing for each day.”
“My suitcases will weigh a ton!”
“They’ve got porters!”
So she’d picked up a white suit and a red one, to have a patriotic theme. And she’d decided to wear the red suit today, because while blue was her favorite color, red had always been her lucky color.
“So much for luck,” she thought.
She sped up the speed of her laps.
“Well, maybe it was luck,” she thought after a few more laps. “After all, actors…”
Her mind drifted into other channels…. her sister and mom wanted her to come in on the family business of travel and travel writing….and that would certainly fulfill her dream of spending her life traveling….her dad wanted her to go into the Air Force. She wouldn’t have minded being a pilot, but although her eyesight wasn’t that bad it wasn’t good enough to be a pilot…
Michele completed her twenty-fifth lap and decided that was enough for the morning. She had places to go, things to do.
She levered herself out of the pool and, plucking up her robe, headed for the women’s locker room to take a shower.
“Hey!”
She turned around, and her heart gave a little leap. He’d just come out of the men’s locker room.
“Hi,” she said. “I didn’t think you were coming.”
“I got held up. Had to talk to my agent.”
“Oh….good news, I hope.”
He shrugged. “Promising news, anyway. In this business you learn not to get your hopes up until the producer’s signature is on the contract.”
She was now well educated on Robert Wade’s career, after visiting a few message boards that gossiped about actors. He’d guest-starred on a few popular TV series, and been the side-kick in two moderately successful movies, and there was an unconfirmed rumor going around that he was supposed to be the star in a planned remake of a movie called The Creature from the Black Lagoon.
“You’re up for a role in ….Creature From the Black Lagoon, right?”
“Yes,” he said, his face brightening. “How did you know?”
“Oh, I have my sources.”
“That’s why I’m working hard on my swimming,” he continued, gesturing toward the pool. “I’ll be spending practically the whole movie underwater, if things work out right.”
“I hope they do,” she said.
“Thanks.” He glanced at her dripping form. “You’ve finished your laps already, then?”
“Yes. I’ve got places to go…”
“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then, okay?”
“Sure,” said Michele. “I’ll be here.”
He nodded to her and then turning, took a few steps and dove into the pool.
Michele found the privacy of the women’s locker room, where she allowed herself to giggle uncontrollably for a minute or so before sternly telling herself to get a grip.
She’d have much to dream about tonight…and who knew what would happen tomorrow?
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Dangerous Moonlight Chapter 6
Dangerous Moonlight Chapter 6: Dangerous Moonlight
September 3, 1990
After breakfast the next morning, Michele put on her swim-suit, a dark blue one-piece; a white terry cloth robe, and flip-flops. The Britannia had several swimming pools – four of them on the lido deck aimed at children and families, and a couple on a lower deck suitable for adults who wished to swim in relative quiet.
She had heard the term “lido deck” when she’d watched re-runs of that 1980s tv series, the Love Boat, but had never thought about what it meant. The literature with which she’d been provided explained it. “The term lido comes from the Lido di Venezia on the sandy barrier beach that encloses the Lagoon of Venice, where sea-bathing took place from the later nineteenth century.”
The passengers had not been asked to use 1920s swimsuits when they made use of the pools, so the men were bare-chested, and most of the women wore bikinis, some of the skimpiest variety possible. They also weren’t swimming, but rather relaxing on deck chairs getting a tan.
Three of the pools on the lido deck were devoted to children – one was two feet deep, one four feet deep, another very deep, with water slides for the kids, and adults.
The pools were all fresh water, and kept at a comfortable temperature.
After swimming for a while, Michele found a deckchair and relaxed, watching the little children frolicking in their baby pools, their faces filled with joy at the experience. Michele enjoyed their enjoyment, without feeling the least bit maternal about it. She liked kids, as long as they were other people’s kids.
After an hour, though, this palled. Time to leave this fun fest. Because she was a completionist, she decided she’d finish the pool project that very day. She’d go down to the pool reserved for adults only and dip her toes in that for a few minutes.
But she found the pool…and it was a beauty…deserted. It had been divided into 8 lanes – it was strictly for swimming laps.
Michele dove right in.
A few minutes later, as she performed a flip turn to start another lap, she saw that she had company. A man had entered the pool and begun doing laps as well. She had chosen to swim in the center lane…he had taken the far right lane.
Michele swam on and on, enjoying the exercise. These were her two sports – swimming and mountain biking.
After about 30 minutes, she came to the edge of the pool and levered herself out. She grabbed up her towel and started drying herself off, when her swimming partner ended his laps and levered himself out of the pool as well.
She recognized him immediately. It was Robert Wade.
Robert Wade…a couple of inches taller than she was, nice tan, well muscled with a well-defined six pack and a broad, hairless chest that showed his pectorals off nicely, and a smile on his face.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi,” she squeaked back.
This was it, she thought. This was her chance. Say something clever!
She couldn’t think of a damn thing to say. The old standby when talking to an actor was, “I really enjoy your work,” but since she’d never seen anything he’d been in, that might turn out awkward. She could say, “Nice body,” because that would be nothing less than the truth, but while guys could get away with saying that to a woman, a woman sure as hell couldn’t say that to a guy….unless she was a certain type of woman looking for a certain type of guy!
“The old double standard,” she murmured.
“I beg your pardon?”
“I meant, this is a nice pool. I’m surprised we’re the only two people here.”
“Well, I suppose most people like to be in the pool on the lido deck so they can enjoy the sunshine. It’s only serious swimmers like us who use this one.”
“Yes. I….do you swim this time every day….” (Oh, God, what a question to ask!)
He grinned. “Yes, I like to get my work out in early.”
“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
“Sure.”
With a final wave of her towel, Michele walked into the women’s locker room, whereupon she proceeded to stuff her towel into her mouth and then scream around it.
After that, she felt better. After all, she hadn’t done too bad. She’d given herself another day to read upon him – thank heaven for the internet – and he had looked genuinely pleased that they’d see each other the next morning.
If he shows up, she thought darkly.
Then…. Of course he will! And I’ll be ready, next time.
September 3, 1990
After breakfast the next morning, Michele put on her swim-suit, a dark blue one-piece; a white terry cloth robe, and flip-flops. The Britannia had several swimming pools – four of them on the lido deck aimed at children and families, and a couple on a lower deck suitable for adults who wished to swim in relative quiet.
She had heard the term “lido deck” when she’d watched re-runs of that 1980s tv series, the Love Boat, but had never thought about what it meant. The literature with which she’d been provided explained it. “The term lido comes from the Lido di Venezia on the sandy barrier beach that encloses the Lagoon of Venice, where sea-bathing took place from the later nineteenth century.”
The passengers had not been asked to use 1920s swimsuits when they made use of the pools, so the men were bare-chested, and most of the women wore bikinis, some of the skimpiest variety possible. They also weren’t swimming, but rather relaxing on deck chairs getting a tan.
Three of the pools on the lido deck were devoted to children – one was two feet deep, one four feet deep, another very deep, with water slides for the kids, and adults.
The pools were all fresh water, and kept at a comfortable temperature.
After swimming for a while, Michele found a deckchair and relaxed, watching the little children frolicking in their baby pools, their faces filled with joy at the experience. Michele enjoyed their enjoyment, without feeling the least bit maternal about it. She liked kids, as long as they were other people’s kids.
After an hour, though, this palled. Time to leave this fun fest. Because she was a completionist, she decided she’d finish the pool project that very day. She’d go down to the pool reserved for adults only and dip her toes in that for a few minutes.
But she found the pool…and it was a beauty…deserted. It had been divided into 8 lanes – it was strictly for swimming laps.
Michele dove right in.
A few minutes later, as she performed a flip turn to start another lap, she saw that she had company. A man had entered the pool and begun doing laps as well. She had chosen to swim in the center lane…he had taken the far right lane.
Michele swam on and on, enjoying the exercise. These were her two sports – swimming and mountain biking.
After about 30 minutes, she came to the edge of the pool and levered herself out. She grabbed up her towel and started drying herself off, when her swimming partner ended his laps and levered himself out of the pool as well.
She recognized him immediately. It was Robert Wade.
Robert Wade…a couple of inches taller than she was, nice tan, well muscled with a well-defined six pack and a broad, hairless chest that showed his pectorals off nicely, and a smile on his face.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi,” she squeaked back.
This was it, she thought. This was her chance. Say something clever!
She couldn’t think of a damn thing to say. The old standby when talking to an actor was, “I really enjoy your work,” but since she’d never seen anything he’d been in, that might turn out awkward. She could say, “Nice body,” because that would be nothing less than the truth, but while guys could get away with saying that to a woman, a woman sure as hell couldn’t say that to a guy….unless she was a certain type of woman looking for a certain type of guy!
“The old double standard,” she murmured.
“I beg your pardon?”
“I meant, this is a nice pool. I’m surprised we’re the only two people here.”
“Well, I suppose most people like to be in the pool on the lido deck so they can enjoy the sunshine. It’s only serious swimmers like us who use this one.”
“Yes. I….do you swim this time every day….” (Oh, God, what a question to ask!)
He grinned. “Yes, I like to get my work out in early.”
“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
“Sure.”
With a final wave of her towel, Michele walked into the women’s locker room, whereupon she proceeded to stuff her towel into her mouth and then scream around it.
After that, she felt better. After all, she hadn’t done too bad. She’d given herself another day to read upon him – thank heaven for the internet – and he had looked genuinely pleased that they’d see each other the next morning.
If he shows up, she thought darkly.
Then…. Of course he will! And I’ll be ready, next time.
Saturday, May 5, 2012
Dangerous Moonlight, ch 5
September 2, 1990
That evening, Michele sat with her laptop on her lap, vainly trying to get the juices to start flowing so she could write her report to her sister. But nothing was coming. The white screen glowed at her, impersonally and unhelpfully.
Well…it was non-fiction. What if she tried her hand at fiction….at some fantasy she had, and start writing that. Perhaps then she’d be able to segue into her real work.
So…what could her fantasy be….?
Well, she could fantasize about Robert Wade, of course, but what…. She didn’t want to just fantasize that he’d show up in her bed out of the blue…no, it was the chase that counted…the pursuit. That was what had always been sexy to her, when watching TV shows as a kid. The “will they ever get together” storyline. Once two characters did get together, the interest was gone! Then, to try to rekindle the interest, the writers would introduce a baby into the mix… which she’d always thought made it worse.
No, it was the chase that was the thing…
Just a few minutes ago, she’d come back from her cabin from watching the movie Thank You, Mr. Moto. There were three! movie theaters on board the ship – one of them was airing first-run movies, one was running silent movies only, and one was running only movies that had a cruise boat theme, or at least a ship appeared at some time during the proceedings. She’d stopped in and seen that Peter Lorre’s first outing as Mr. Moto, Thank You Mr. Moto, was next up. She bought a bucket of popcorn with extra butter and a large Pepsi and settled back to enjoy herself.
Although Mr. Moto had been the hero of the film, the viewers didn’t know for sure whether he was a hero or a villain until two thirds of the way through. Indeed, he had been a rather ruthless hero, at one point throwing a villain – still alive – overboard.
She had loved that part, thought Michele. “I know who you are, Mr. Moto,” the fake steward had said.
And “That is most unfortunate for you,” had said Mr. Moto. Then there’d been a judo fight and over the side the steward had gone.
“What a great line…”
What about that, then, as the plot for her seduction fantasy….
Dangerous Moonlight, by Michele Bravo
She stared at the title for several seconds.
Okay, how abut this, she thought. I don’t write it like a story. No need to describe the setting or the character. I write it like a movie. Yeah. I’m the heroine and Robert Wade is the hero. And we’re on a luxury cruise liner from San Francisco to Honolulu. And it’s almost midnight and there’s a full moon. And…and…it’s 1938, just before World War II, and he’s supposed to be the pilot of a new test plane, and he’s traveling to Hawaii with the plans, and I’m supposed to find out if he’s really a pilot or just a spy, trying to steal the plans. And he is a real pilot, but he thinks I’m a spy, trying to steal the plans from him.
Michele put her hands over her eyes and giggled. Jeez, I’m making this pretty complicated for my first attempt at a seduction scenario. Just start the damn thing.
Dangerous Moonlight, by Michele Bravo
Michele - played by Michele Bravo
Robert –played by Robert Wade
The scene: They’re walking along the promenade deck of a WWII era cruise liner. It’s a full moon, and the silver light glints on the waves.
Michele: The full moon is lovely, isn’t.
Robert: I hate the full moon. Moonlight is dangerous.
Michele: [Coquettishly] Why, whatever can you mean?
Robert: Have you never heard of the bomber’s moon? That’s what a full moon is. When the night sky is so bright, thanks to a full moon, that’s the time bomber pilot’s love best.
Michele. Oh.
[Michele knew a great deal about certain aspects of the Second World War. Her grandfather had flown P-51s in that war, and her grandmother had been a WASP. When they’d visited him – her parents and her sister – he always talked about the war, and sometimes had friends over, and they’d talk about dogfights. Michele had started studying fighter pilots, not only of WWII but also of WWI. Indeed, while most of her friends had had posters of rock stars on their walls since their early teens, she’d had posters of the Red Baron, and WWII era-aircraft.
However, the reason why she knew about the bomber’s moon, and could mention it so glibly, was that she was also a fan of mysteries, and , indeed, had just finished A Late Phoenix by Catherine Aird only a week or so ago, in which that author had used the term. One could learn so much about history by reading mystery stories. ]
Robert: I’m sorry. I don’t mean to cast a damper over your enjoyment of the evening.
Michele: That’s quite all right. I’m so fascinated by pilots and aircraft. The thought of two brave pilots…desperately trying to outmaneuver each other as they fight for their lives in the air….I can’t explain it. It’s just so…. Did she want to say “Hot”? Did they even use the term “Hot” for sexual excitement back in 1938? She didn’t know….
Robert: Oh, the adrenalin flows, I don’t deny it. A lot of pilots during WWI never could go back to civilian life after the war ended, because they needed that extra excitement that peacetime didn’t offer.
Michele: So you’re going to Honolulu to fly planes? That’s out of the way, isn’t it? It’s Germany we need to worry about, surely.
Robert: [smiles] If only that were true.
The couple reach the prow of the ship. They can see the white foam churned up by the ship scything through the water, and the dolphins bodysurfing on the waves.
Robert: [sighs]: It is romantic, isn’t it?
Closeup of their hands brushing against each other. Of their fingers intertwining. Camera cants upward slowly to reveal their two profiles facing each other, silhouetted in the full moon…they kiss.
…..
The door opened, and Michele’s roommate staggered in, her face green. She headed straight for the bathroom and bent over the toilet.
Is she going to get drunk every night? Michele wondered.
She glanced back at the page, at the blinking cursor. The mood was gone…the sounds from the bathroom quite destroying it.
Hell, she may as well get started on writing her story of the events of the day for Alice.
Coitus interruptus again, she thought. Twice! Well, hopefully the third time would be the charm….
That evening, Michele sat with her laptop on her lap, vainly trying to get the juices to start flowing so she could write her report to her sister. But nothing was coming. The white screen glowed at her, impersonally and unhelpfully.
Well…it was non-fiction. What if she tried her hand at fiction….at some fantasy she had, and start writing that. Perhaps then she’d be able to segue into her real work.
So…what could her fantasy be….?
Well, she could fantasize about Robert Wade, of course, but what…. She didn’t want to just fantasize that he’d show up in her bed out of the blue…no, it was the chase that counted…the pursuit. That was what had always been sexy to her, when watching TV shows as a kid. The “will they ever get together” storyline. Once two characters did get together, the interest was gone! Then, to try to rekindle the interest, the writers would introduce a baby into the mix… which she’d always thought made it worse.
No, it was the chase that was the thing…
Just a few minutes ago, she’d come back from her cabin from watching the movie Thank You, Mr. Moto. There were three! movie theaters on board the ship – one of them was airing first-run movies, one was running silent movies only, and one was running only movies that had a cruise boat theme, or at least a ship appeared at some time during the proceedings. She’d stopped in and seen that Peter Lorre’s first outing as Mr. Moto, Thank You Mr. Moto, was next up. She bought a bucket of popcorn with extra butter and a large Pepsi and settled back to enjoy herself.
Although Mr. Moto had been the hero of the film, the viewers didn’t know for sure whether he was a hero or a villain until two thirds of the way through. Indeed, he had been a rather ruthless hero, at one point throwing a villain – still alive – overboard.
She had loved that part, thought Michele. “I know who you are, Mr. Moto,” the fake steward had said.
And “That is most unfortunate for you,” had said Mr. Moto. Then there’d been a judo fight and over the side the steward had gone.
“What a great line…”
What about that, then, as the plot for her seduction fantasy….
Dangerous Moonlight, by Michele Bravo
She stared at the title for several seconds.
Okay, how abut this, she thought. I don’t write it like a story. No need to describe the setting or the character. I write it like a movie. Yeah. I’m the heroine and Robert Wade is the hero. And we’re on a luxury cruise liner from San Francisco to Honolulu. And it’s almost midnight and there’s a full moon. And…and…it’s 1938, just before World War II, and he’s supposed to be the pilot of a new test plane, and he’s traveling to Hawaii with the plans, and I’m supposed to find out if he’s really a pilot or just a spy, trying to steal the plans. And he is a real pilot, but he thinks I’m a spy, trying to steal the plans from him.
Michele put her hands over her eyes and giggled. Jeez, I’m making this pretty complicated for my first attempt at a seduction scenario. Just start the damn thing.
Dangerous Moonlight, by Michele Bravo
Michele - played by Michele Bravo
Robert –played by Robert Wade
The scene: They’re walking along the promenade deck of a WWII era cruise liner. It’s a full moon, and the silver light glints on the waves.
Michele: The full moon is lovely, isn’t.
Robert: I hate the full moon. Moonlight is dangerous.
Michele: [Coquettishly] Why, whatever can you mean?
Robert: Have you never heard of the bomber’s moon? That’s what a full moon is. When the night sky is so bright, thanks to a full moon, that’s the time bomber pilot’s love best.
Michele. Oh.
[Michele knew a great deal about certain aspects of the Second World War. Her grandfather had flown P-51s in that war, and her grandmother had been a WASP. When they’d visited him – her parents and her sister – he always talked about the war, and sometimes had friends over, and they’d talk about dogfights. Michele had started studying fighter pilots, not only of WWII but also of WWI. Indeed, while most of her friends had had posters of rock stars on their walls since their early teens, she’d had posters of the Red Baron, and WWII era-aircraft.
However, the reason why she knew about the bomber’s moon, and could mention it so glibly, was that she was also a fan of mysteries, and , indeed, had just finished A Late Phoenix by Catherine Aird only a week or so ago, in which that author had used the term. One could learn so much about history by reading mystery stories. ]
Robert: I’m sorry. I don’t mean to cast a damper over your enjoyment of the evening.
Michele: That’s quite all right. I’m so fascinated by pilots and aircraft. The thought of two brave pilots…desperately trying to outmaneuver each other as they fight for their lives in the air….I can’t explain it. It’s just so…. Did she want to say “Hot”? Did they even use the term “Hot” for sexual excitement back in 1938? She didn’t know….
Robert: Oh, the adrenalin flows, I don’t deny it. A lot of pilots during WWI never could go back to civilian life after the war ended, because they needed that extra excitement that peacetime didn’t offer.
Michele: So you’re going to Honolulu to fly planes? That’s out of the way, isn’t it? It’s Germany we need to worry about, surely.
Robert: [smiles] If only that were true.
The couple reach the prow of the ship. They can see the white foam churned up by the ship scything through the water, and the dolphins bodysurfing on the waves.
Robert: [sighs]: It is romantic, isn’t it?
Closeup of their hands brushing against each other. Of their fingers intertwining. Camera cants upward slowly to reveal their two profiles facing each other, silhouetted in the full moon…they kiss.
…..
The door opened, and Michele’s roommate staggered in, her face green. She headed straight for the bathroom and bent over the toilet.
Is she going to get drunk every night? Michele wondered.
She glanced back at the page, at the blinking cursor. The mood was gone…the sounds from the bathroom quite destroying it.
Hell, she may as well get started on writing her story of the events of the day for Alice.
Coitus interruptus again, she thought. Twice! Well, hopefully the third time would be the charm….
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