A true story that will eventually go in my Memoir. I tried to find an image that captures his features, and the genuine peace radiating from his face . His hair was lighter, but this is pretty close to how he appeared.
I had been running as my form of exercise for years, and I ended up getting a severe knee injury. I ignored it at first, so of course it got worse. I ended up in severe pain, almost unable to navigate the stairs in the two-story house I lived in then. I was diagnosed by my GP, and she ordered — not recommended — ordered that I get physiotherapy at a particular facility. I went in for my first appointment, and had the usual assessment done by a very capable older woman. She told me that I’d need to come in for at least 8 weeks of treatments, and that I couldn’t work out. I was upset at that, because running had been one way that I’d kept myself grounded and mostly sane. She told me to come back in a week, and that she was retiring, and someone else would be assigned to me. This was when completely awful divorce proceedings were happening, and everything around me was going up in flames. I made it through the week and returned to the facility. I had to wait at the front desk, and then was told to take a seat. I was walking with a cane, and I hobbled over to sit in a waiting chair. A few more minutes, and then I heard someone calling my name. It was a deep male voice, and I looked up to see Aidan for the first time.
Okay, an interlude/interjection here. I don’t know if it’s a blessing or a curse, or perhaps a blend of both, that I have had ‘adventures’ with some ridiculously good-looking and exciting men. Sometimes in these shares, I feel a bit concerned about how this will be perceived, but then again, this is my truth. The feeling doesn’t last long — I remember that my life so far would make a wildly entertaining movie. It’s like the ancient Chinese curse, “May you live in interesting times.” It’s been hella interesting, that’s for sure! Okay, had to get that off my chest.
“I’m Bibi,” I said. He looked at my cane next to the chair, then back to me.
“Would you like some help?” I was taking in his overall appearance. He had a face like a prince from a fairy tale, complete with light brown wavy hair that was kissing the collar of his polo shirt, and intense hazel eyes. I steeled myself to keep my own eyes on his, but he was several feet away, and I got the whole package. Oh yeah. If it’s possible for someone to be both lanky, graceful, and built like a quarter-back, that was Aidan.
I smiled, said, “No thanks, I can manage.” I stood up with my good leg with no problem; however, when I reached down to get the handle of the cane, of course, my knee gave out, and I started to fall. He was there in an instant, and he broke my fall. There I was, in his arms, and I felt like a bit of a fool.
“Here. Put your arm around my shoulder, and..”, he continued helping me up, and handed me my cane. “Okay, Bibi, I’m Aidan. The first thing you need to do is memorize this: when you are injured to the point that you need a cane to get around, you pick it up before you do anything else. Got it?”
“Yes, Sir! Captain, Sir!”
Yes, I really said that. He was bossing me, and I was in a bad mood. My divorce was endless, and I had not had sex for two years. Here was this — well, hunk — with a pretty boy face — and the last thing I needed or wanted was to be reminded of my situation. “Where are we going?” I asked him. I looked up, and he was smiling down at me. Oh fuck. His eyes were all crinkly and warm, and I realized he was older than I’d thought. “Oh,” he said, covering about four registers in tone. “Injury’s got you a little pissed off, hunh?” He took my elbow lightly, saying “This way. You don’t need any cane lessons, do you?” There was something in the tone of his voice that blew out the anger flames. When we reached his office, he put his other hand on the small of my back to guide me to one of two chairs, and I just… melted.
He looked over the notes from my previous week’s appointment and set everything down. “I know you’ve been assessed, but you’re my patient now, and I really want to look for myself. Cool?” I nodded, and he stood. “Okay, the cane, remember?” I took it off the chair arm where I’d propped it, and stood, carefully. He kept his distance, eying me critically, with his physio vision. “Ok, we’re going to go down the hall, not far. Please make a right turn out the door and go into the 3rd room on your left. I’m going to watch your progress — hold on. I really can’t see your legs.” I was wearing sweats, and I said, “Oh, let me just… roll these up”. He quickly said, “If you do, from there, you’ll go down again, and I really don’t want to see that happen. Why don’t I…”, and he was suddenly kneeling at my feet, his hands rolling up the fabric. His hands were warm, and I shivered. He stayed motionless for a moment, looked up, and met my eyes. “There. Now I can see you.” I continued, following his directions, but something in me had shifted when he’d touched my legs. There was an all-pervading ‘shimmy-shake’ inside me, and I felt flustered. “Have a seat on this”, he said, gesturing to a massage table-like thing. Then “Here,” and with that, he put his big hands around my waist, picked me up, and placed me in a seated position, facing him. I burst out laughing, I was so surprised. “Sorry,” he said. “I should have asked for your permission first.”
“Aidan, you just had your hands all over my legs, so that’s kind of a moot point.”
He looked at me, expressionless, then he laughed. It was a big, full laugh, and I knew I was looking at a guy who was comfortable and confident with himself.
“Okay, Bibi, I just have to say this, ok? You are freakin’ adorable.” My eyes popped wide. He put both of his hands up in mock defense, and said “Don’t kill me, and please don’t report me. Said in innocent fun. I know what your situation is because it’s all there in your intake notes, and I find you … resilient. And funny. You’re going through some tough times, and you’re badass. I approve. Ok?”
Well, I mean heck, what could I say to that? It was a shot of confidence, and he’d won my respect. “Okay, so uh, can we do this thing that we have to do? Please?” I sounded like a child to my own ears. He got down to business and took me through an almost identical process of the previous week, but his approach was just… more thorough. I liked that. A lot.
“All right, listen. They’ve only booked you out for hour-long blocks. You need at least ninety-minutes, and I’m recommending you see me twice a week. How’s your insurance?”
“My insurance is great. It’s through my soon-to-be ex-husband”.
“Oh. Kay… well, when is your divorce going to be finalized? Also, you need to talk to your lawyer about protecting your benefits.”
“Yeah, roger that. I’m all over it,” I sighed. I was exhausted, just from the last hour, but also oddly energized.
“Do you have transport?” He just gazed at me, and for a moment, my thoughts became all jumbled up.
“Yes, I drove, and my car is… um…where is my car?“
He smiled. “Can’t tell you that, Bibi.”
“Right. I remember now. It’s in the back, in the patient lot.”
“Come on, let’s go to the front, and I’ll re-book your appointments, then I’ll walk you to your car.”
“Oh, Aidan, that’s really sweet, but I can manage.”
“No, I insist.” He once again lifted me down off the table and handed me the cane. “You look extremely tired, and I think you can use some support here.”
“Okay,” I said. “Only if you agree that this cane thingy is renamed. How’s ‘walking stick’ sound?”
“Sounds good.” He got the series of twice weekly appointments into the system for the next seven weeks, got me to my car, and I barely made it home.
The next week went by in painful spurts of time. My estranged husband — the very same who I’d fallen in love with — was being a supreme monster. That’s a story, and I’ll share it eventually, because I am darn proud of myself for escaping that nightmare. A few tidbits, and I’ve alluded to this in previous shares, because they have bearing on what happened with Aidan. When J and I met, it was like kismet. We had never met before, but there were odd and uncanny syncs. Our parents had had seasonal tickets next to each other at Chicago Symphony Hall for years; his older sister was best friends with my mom’s business partner, and J and I knew many people in common. We’d met at a party, and I was a goner. He was delicious to look at (my Venus just goes to town on that), he was off-the-charts brilliant, and he was just as into me. He was a psychiatrist, an M.D., — and yes, J’s the one who unlocked my stething kink. It was wildly hot and wonderful, until after the birth of our youngest. It devolved in much the same way Kim Bassinger’s character did with Mickey Rourke’s in Nine 1/2 Weeks. He’d kept from me the fact of his being into major BDSM before we met. I later found out he’d continued it throughout the marriage, me being none the wiser. It started with, “Let’s play a game”. I was all for it. I was completely innocent to the lifestyle, and might have had a prayer, if I’d had some knowledge. The first few months were great, hands tied behind my back, blindfolded, and somehow, somewhere along the line, I can’t pinpoint it, I was craving his attention, and his praise. His approval. The more intense this became, the more he reprimanded me, at first in private, then in public — subtly done, but still. I was never given a choice, never knew about safe words (J did, never educated me), so that when he was spanking me — in our locked, sound-proofed basement, after he made sure the nanny was going to keep the girls occupied — I had no way out. When I complained, when I cried, he’d gag me, and hit me harder. It just kept on going downhill, until my mom spoke up. She asked me why I had rings under my eyes, why the ‘spark of Bibi’ was missing. I’d filed for divorce 18 months earlier, and then I met Aidan.
The turning point happened the very next appointment. Aidan was on the lookout for me and came out to the back parking lot to greet me. I saw him, and my, didn’t he look good! I had just opened my car door, and he was reaching into the passenger side to retrieve my cane for me. “Aha! I see your walking stick likes crystals!” I’d fastened a small transparent bag of healing stones near the handle, at the top. “Let’s see, amethyst, … smokey quartz… citrine…rose quartz… & clear quartz.“
Okay. You just could have blown me right over with a feather, as I sat, still in my car, stunned. “Great choices Bibi”, he said, as he came around to the other side. “Hey, being a physiotherapist doesn’t mean I’m only interested in exercise. My intention for now,” he said, as he helped me out and handed me my walking aid, “…is to make as much money as I can, because” said while walking to the back door, “… one day in the hopefully near future, I am going to own and run the best healing spa East of the Mississippi.”
“Oh my god, Aidan, you can answer my crystal questions! I just started learning about them. And a spa? That’s great… way to go!” We went inside, and he pointed to a room.
“Go in there. I left your notes in front — be right back.” I hesitated, just to watch him. He wore the ‘uniform’ of the facility, khakis, red polo shirt and sneakers, like they were bespoke for him alone. You can always tell what a man looks like naked by the way his butt fills out his trousers while he’s moving. 😈 I didn’t stare too long, and went inside, aware of lady parts that had been long dormant re-awakening with a steamy growl.
He came back, and we stood there, looking at each other. Looking down, he said, “Good choice, those shorts.” He looked back up, and I felt my chest & face beginning to get hot, so I turned slightly, because, well, I was a little out of my depth. I had thought him at first to be younger, but I wasn’t so sure anymore, & the last thing I needed to do was have an affair while I was still married. I didn’t care about the morals, oh no, what I cared about was that I didn’t want J to start another cockamamie and cruel accusation during the divorce proceedings. My custody battle had just begun.
“So, um…”, I started. He was next to me.
“May I?”, gesturing that he wanted to lift me on to the table. Now, my mouth can bedevil me when I get nervous.
“Of course, Aidan, of course! Just… please, just go ahead and have your way with me.” He was then lifting me, and he just… held me up, like I was a doll. I really love strong guys, and truth be told, I was impressed, and getting turned on like crazy. He looked into my eyes for several notable beats, set me down, and said, “Your wish is my command”.
Okay, he was sexy fun right from the start, and I know my lawyer would have advised me to find some other physio — but, hey! I didn’t tell him about Aidan. He said, “Just lie back, and let’s see where you’re at today. So. I did. “Your knee and all this surrounding tissue are more swollen,” and he lightly touched the area. “And hot”. It hurt as he gently probed. I gasped. “Hey, I’m sorry, but this is why you’re here.” I’d closed my eyes, and opened to see him by my right knee, at the table’s edge. “Probably from having two toddlers running around?” He remarked, more than asked. I sighed and felt such comfort that I didn’t need to pour out long explanations. “Bibi, I know from your file that you’ve got live-in help. This is the time to really take advantage. We need this injury left alone so it can heal. Your tendonitis is severe, so I mean it.” From my prone position, I looked at him and nodded. He moved to my other knee and placed both of his hands there. They were … perfect. Cool, but invitingly so. I closed my eyes again. “You have what my mother, who was a dancer, would have called ‘great gams’.” I opened my eyes and smiled at his compliment.
“Thank you, Aidan”.
His hands were now lightly touching me, on either side and just above my uninjured knee. He kept his eyes on me as he gently felt around my lower thigh. “Are you aware that your muscle tension is off the charts high?”
“Okay,” and he removed his hands, and went to a nearby cabinet. We’re going to ice that injured puppy,” and that made me giggle. He came back and wrapped the ‘puppy’ in layers of very cold… something. I know not what. “How’s that?”
“It’s really cold.”
“Good.” He straightened from where he’d been slightly bent over my knee, and just gazed at my eyes, as before. “The goal is to prevent the need for surgery, and you came in here, close to that point. We’ll keep those knives away from you,” and I shuddered. He quickly came over to where my head was just slightly propped up. “Hey.” He lightly touched my shoulder. “I’m sorry to make you uncomfortable, but it’s important for you to appreciate the extent of your injury.” I looked right back at him.
“Aidan, I get it. You have no idea.”
This was really the first time in a very long time that I felt truly safe. Taken care of. I was lying down, and that caused an expanded feeling of the hurt and the vulnerability caused by J’s abuse. I got truly honest with myself in that moment and accepted that my knee injury had been dramatically exacerbated when I’d been forced to kneel for hours, hands bound, on an icy concrete basement floor. I fought it, but the tears spilled over, and I quickly swiped them away, and turned my head to the side. Aidan’s hand still on my shoulder, he said, “It was… bad. Yeah, it was… very bad for you”. I was only just beginning to learn about the deeper aspects around the world of empaths and intuitive healers, but I got it right away. You see, that is partly who and what Aidan truly is. “You don’t have to say or tell me anything.” I turned my head back to him. He was kneeling, and now looking right into my… soul. His eyes were honeyed lakes, and I couldn’t look away.
“It skips generations, and it’s from my father’s side.” He spoke very softly. “In Northern Italy there is a mountain district called La Romagna Toscana. This is where my father’s people are from. They — we — are an ancient people, The Romagnoli. Since before the Etruscans, my family has passed down the tradition of “la vecchia religione”.
“The old religion,” I said, my high school Italian proclaiming itself.
“Yes, exactly,” he said. “My father’s mother came to Chicago just before I was born. She was the family leader, the Strega. She saw the next one was to be me. She trained me in our family tradition, from my first day to the day she died. Just before she took her last few breaths, she named me the Strega. I know how to See. Better than most.” Others may have been terrified. I was entranced, and I felt and I knew the truth of him. “I See you. You have been grievously harmed, Bibi.” His eyes unfocused a moment, and then thunderclouds were all over his face. He closed his eyes, opened them, and he looked peacefully sexy again.
“Will you teach me about crystals?” I asked. Softly. Something, unspoken was actively moving between us. I just knew that this information wasn’t something he freely gave out. It was an entire lucid, wordless conversation.
“Yeah,” he said, and stood. He checked my cooling knee. “You have the sight too. Hmmm. Maybe Celtic?”
“Don’t know,” I said. “Adopted”.
“Ahh. I’ll place my witchy bet on the ancient British Isles. Because…”
“You see me.” I said.
“Yes. What I’m going to do next isn’t taught as part of becoming a physiotherapist. It’s one of the Old Ways.” He turned down the lights and flicked a switch. Gentle wind chimes sounded, along with Native American Flutes.
“I didn’t know you had a sound system in these rooms,” I murmured.
“Shh. I’m the head manager of this facility, and my input carries weight. Didn’t you see my card?”
“Never got one.”
“Ok. Just… relax.” I closed my eyes and felt the heat of his hands as he moved them around and just above my body. He was behind me, and I heard, “Hmm…”, then, “I’m going to touch your neck.” His fingers went under the base of my skull, and gently followed my neck down on either side of my spine. “Have you been injured here?”
“Well, my neck’s given me problems ever since I was a passenger in a car that got hit head on when I was nineteen — “
“You weren’t wearing a seat belt, and you hit the dash hard at the top of your philtrum.”
“If that’s right under my nose, yes.”
“Your nose was broken, right?”
“Yeah.” More silence, as his fingers hovered, landed softly, and then went around to the back of my neck and were still. I was suddenly kneeling, naked and in my basement with my hands tied, and J was behind me. He also kneeled, grabbed my hair hard, and forcefully yanked my head back. A slight crunching sound that I felt more than heard. The pain was intense, and I was gasping. Just as suddenly, I was in the therapy room again. Aidan’s hands were on my shoulders. “You’re ok, you’re here with me, right?”
“Yeah, I’m okay.”
“We have twenty minutes left, so I’m going to remove the ice pack,” and he moved to my knee to do just that. “I can let you chill in here with the music — “
“NO!” I surprised myself with my desperate answer. “Aidan I…”
“Hey, I’m happy to chill in here with you.” I just closed my eyes and sighed. This physio-patient relationship was changing into something I couldn’t name. All I was sure of was that I trusted him, and… I wanted him there… and… I wanted him.
That ice pack had been well, icy, and I realized I’d started shivering only when I felt Aidan cover me with a light blanket. A moment later, he was gently stroking my arm. “Hey you. Time’s up.”
“What? I fell asleep?”
“Yeah,” he said, and offered his hand to help me sit up. “Easy… go slow. Legs over the side, and…” damn, he lifted me from my waist, set my feet down, and kept his hands where they were. “Next time,” he said looking down at me, “I’ll continue the knee rehab, but I’m also going to work on that muscle tension.” He let go. I was fighting myself not to smile. “You ok to navigate?”
“Yes, Aidan. I am good to go. Thanks.” He was the one to smile.
“I’ll see you in three days. You’re going to have some stuff come up between now and then. Do you have… a therapist?” I nodded. “Good. I’m glad to hear that.” We were now leaving and headed for the back door. We reached my car, and he opened the driver’s side for me. He helped me get situated and stood up. He gazed down at me, not saying anything, and I clearly saw his Italian features. The hair and eye color had been deceptive, but now I saw the tawny olive in his golden skin, and his handsome nose was gloriously Roman. Add in the cleft chin, square jaw, and the dimples when he smiled. “Try to stay off your feet to get that swelling down, ice for ten, etcetera, and…”, he smiled. “Be gentle with yourself and see you Thursday at 2 PM.” He shut the door, held up his palm in farewell, and I drove home.
In this recounting, I’m not going to get into all the nitty-gritty details of the rest of my life. The only thing I will say is that my therapist was wildly excited every time I spoke about Aidan. Charles was outraged by one of his own — J — behaving so despicably. He was in his late seventies, and a Kabbalist as well as a Jungian. He’d also been my biggest champion and was my rock when I’d filed for divorce. I had an appointment with him the next day, and I changed it to a phone consultation, because I was concerned about my knee.
“Bibi, Aidan is a manifestation of the magical aspects of your deep unconscious. He is here for a reason, and it ain’t just to ice the tendonitis. Listen to me carefully. J is watching you. It will be devastating if you make a wrong move at this stage, because he’s a son of a bitch. Now that I’ve said that here is my advice to you. The beckoning is upon you, and it is your choice as to how to proceed. I would like you to have an adventure with this sorcerer, this Stregone — “
“He called himself ’Strega’,” I interrupted.
“Only a female is ’Strega’; the men are known as ’Stregone’. I believe he is purposefully obfuscating, because to my knowledge, these people are forbidden to speak of themselves outside their circle, or tribe. He disguises the word and is thereby able to share a deep truth of himself to you. This is significant, and I’m not talking about the psychology of what’s going on here.”
“So? What do you think is going on, Charles?”
“All right. Let me remove my analyst’s cap so I can speak without reservation. You and this Aidan are on a course to have a love affair. I say do this — “
“Charles, you’re not supposed to tell me what to do!”
“Ah! I took off my analyst cap, remember? I speak as your friend. You need one, because that asshole drove all your other friends away. So. As your good friend, I say go for it. Meet this opportunity and have yourself a helluva good time!”
“This is very important: act like a ninja. DO NOT LET J know anything about it. Wear a cape, take public trans, do whatever you have to do to remain invisible, and go out to meet your destiny.” I was silent. “I feel he is here to love you outside of the norm, and in so doing, you are going to receive the kind of soul healing someone like me is unable to offer you.” I could hear his smile as he said, “Aidan himself will be receiving a grand gift as well.”
The next appointment with Aidan came. It’s challenging to describe what I was feeling, because so much was going on in my life then, and I just want to keep this retelling focused on him. I will say that the custody battle was heating up, and I was under an intense strain. Aidan had taken one look at me, and scrapped the workout he’d planned for the session. He picked me up, as he always did, set me on his table, made sure my head was slightly elevated, and said, “All right. Listen to me. I want you to spend the ninety minutes relaxing here. I’m going to attach T.E.N.S. to your affected knee, but other than that, we’re not going to think about it until next time.”
I was exhausted, and I had no argument. He turned the lights down, and started the music player. It was a low, pounding tribal drumming, and at first I questioned his choice. Not for long, though. “Close your eyes,” he said. As soon as I did, I was somewhere else. Not in present time. In a cave? On a plateau? Wind rushed by my ears, and ruffled my hair. His hands were above me, moving in that Reiki-that-wasn’t-Reiki manner of his. My skin heated up, and I felt very hot. I had a strange, yet not uncomfortable sensation that all the muscles in my body were becoming liquid.
Then, Aidan and I were together, somewhere, in some other place. A sky. Clouds, wind. Movement — and yet, we were still. We were being moved, that was it. I saw and I felt us. We faced each other, and our noses were so close, we almost touched. We both smiled. I knew him; he knew me. We were different, yet the same.
“I remember you,” I said.
“Yes,” he said. Then his mouth didn’t move, but I heard him, I heard him in my bones. “Hello, and All Hail.”
My skin prickled in fear, and he said aloud, “Breathe. You’re safe. Just breathe, and remember what will be.” I did… I trusted this wild and accomplished man, and I did just that. If you want me to describe it, I can’t. I can, however, offer words. Ancient. Beyond. Very old. Reverence. Goddess. Soil. Blood. Water. Salt. Tears. Mother. Birth. Sacrifice. Morning. Stars. River. Stones. Heart.
I must have slept, because he was lightly stroking my arm as I opened my eyes. The lights were still low, and only an Eastern Indian flute played. He looked at me, and I looked at him. We both smiled , and he put a finger to his lips. I nodded, and he helped me up, and off the table. “Go home and have a hot shower — better, a bath with about a cup of Epsom salts.” I nodded my agreement. He hadn’t turned the lights back up, and we just stood facing each other. There was an amazing energy, a sense of being refreshed and revivified. “Feel better?”
“Yeah,” I said. My body was singing and she never lies. “I feel… very, very… good… Aidan.” As soon as I said his name, my uterus flipped over and over , my inner thighs felt like melted sugar, and my pussy opened up, seeking… seeking. My palms down to my fingertips wanted to touch and stroke him. We hadn’t moved, and we still had locked eyes.
He closed his eyes briefly, then smiled, and said, “I feel the same. One of the phenomenal mysteries. I was doing a healing, and … we were both granted a glimpse… I…”
We lightly held on to each other’s forearms. Then we were holding each other and he was whispering in my ear. “Four more sessions and your knee should be stable. The first weekend that your daughters are with him, you’ll come to my house.” He grazed my cheek with his lips and stepped back. Damn. It was all mostly unspoken, because of the knowing between us.
Two weeks later, I was on a stationary cycle at his facility, and the knee was doing great. The cane was gone, and I felt strong. There were others in the exercise room, and I’d been cycling for 45 minutes. Aidan came around the bend and motioned with his head to meet him in his office. I got off, did a quick cool down, and went to meet him. He stood there holding a piece of paper. He walked over, closed the door, and we both sat. He held his finger to his lips as he handed me the paper. I looked down and read his elegant writing. It went something like this: “Memorize everything here, then rip it up into small pieces, and hand them back to me. I’m going to burn them.” I looked up. He wore a sad and determined smile. I read on. He had a very strong feeling that J was having me followed. The girls were being picked up in a few hours to spend the weekend with their dad. He asked that once they were safely on their way I drive to my parent’s apartment. “Your car will be lost in that building’s parking facility, and security won’t allow anyone in who isn’t authorized. Bring enough for the weekend. Put your hair up, wear a beret, hide yourself as much as possible — you’re an actress, so be certain you’re unrecognizable. Memorize this address -“ I looked up, and I noticed my breathing was fast. He touched my arm, and said very softly, “We can’t do this if we aren’t extremely careful.” He motioned down to the paper and I carefully memorized his address, and his phone number. I looked up and nodded. “I’ll have dinner ready for us by eight. Grab one of the taxis at Lake Point Tower (my parent’s building). Bibi.”
I looked up again. We gazed at each other, and he touched my face. I ripped the paper up into the smallest pieces I could, and placed them in his hand. He put them in a small envelope, and put that in his pocket. He pulled something out of his other pocket and held it up. “It’s a rare stone from Greenland called Nuumite”. It was on a black satin cord; he placed it over my head, and the sizable chunk of very dark crystal hung about three inches below my clavicle. I felt its power, and I stood up. We had never kissed, only embraced as physiotherapist-patient, save for that experience when we’d ended up in one another’s arms. I had to restrain myself from throwing my arms around his neck and kissing him full, on his lips. I didn’t. “See you tonight,” he whispered.
I did it, I was dropped off just after it had turned dark. I know Aidan was right about my being followed, and I was .. stealthy, baby. He lived in Evanston, a very old and charming suburb. I was surprised to see that he lived in a single standing house; it was small, and had a charming exterior. The front yard had low, little lights on either side of a path that ran directly from the picket fence’s gate to the front door. I walked up the single step, and just as I raised my hand, the door opened. He reached out and pulled me inside. He pulled my weekender bag off my shoulder, set it in his foyer, and turned to look at me.
Darlings, tears come now as I remember our… coming together. Something deliciously Italian wafted through the air, but all I cared about was him. I’d only ever seen Aidan in his physiotherapist garb, and this night, he took my breath away. He wore dark trousers, and a beautifully tailored white shirt, tucked in, three buttons open at the collar, a leather belt, and bare feet. He looked spectacularly, gloriously handsome. Like a romantic poet, with one side of his hair falling over his eyes. The air was dancing? Throbbing? Pulsing? We slowly walked into each other’s arms. My heart pounded, and I could hear his against my ear — he was a long, tall drink of water, yes, he was. You’d think that we’d be all over each other. Instead, he bent his head down to my ear, and whispered, “Come with me.” He took my hand and led me into his kitchen. I saw open shelving covering one wall, and there were countless rows of what looked like herbs, or plants? All labeled. The kitchen was wonderful. It was painted red and a subtle eggplant, with cream accents. It was a mixture of hi-tech stainless and warm wood. Surprisingly large, there was a round farmhouse table, and he pulled out a chair for me. He sat down across from me, and poured two drinks into cordial glasses from an elegant hand-blown glass decanter. He said something in Italian, raised his glass, and I raised mine and lightly tapped his. We both sipped, and I sputtered and gasped. He laughed out loud, and it was such a full, rich, deep sound.
“Ah, you are in my kitchen, and Sambucca is the traditional greeting in this house.” I wasn’t used to it.
“I like the taste, Aidan,” I said.
“Just the one sip, that’s all the Spirits want from us. There is now what should be a very comfortably hot bath waiting for you. Do you want something to eat first?”
“No, I thought I’d be starving — and it smells wonderful..”
“Spinach and arugula lasagne. It’ll be fine in the oven for a couple of hours.”
Now that all may seem very odd, but I completely understood. He had been teaching me a lot about energy cleansing. I was very touched, because I knew the bath would wash away the taint of J, and it would render me into a place of relaxation that would be very welcome.
He reached and took my hand in his.“Thank you for coming here. May this weekend be a refuge.” He stood, and we walked out of the kitchen, a short way. He lifted my weekend bag, and walked me down the hall. He opened the door to his right, and steam billowed out, along with the scent of gardenias. Those are my favorite. It was the simple case that there were never explanations truly needed with the two of us. “Do you need a robe?”
I had everything I needed. I smiled, he set the bag just inside the bathroom door, and I said “I really appreciate the bath. I won’t be long.” He closed the door, I disrobed, and sunk into rich, silken, fragrant bubbles. True to my word, I lay myself out just long enough to feel my muscles responding. I got out, and used his thick oversize bath sheet to dry off. I’d brought sexy lounge wear, of course, and I pulled on a pair of lavender silk harem pants, and its tank top, a wisp of pale yellow silk that left my midriff bare. I opened the door, and he called “In the kitchen!” I padded in my bare feet, my hair loosely pulled back, and went back to the kitchen. He stood at his counter with a full, thick cotton chef’s apron tied around his torso. God! He looked so hot. He turned to face me and smiled.
“Ah. You look, mmmm — relaxed, rosy, beautiful, and very… Bibi”. That made me laugh. He was preparing a small plate of Caprese appetizers, and even though my mouth watered, I said, “Aidan, I’ll have a couple of those, but-“
He popped one in my mouth and it was delicious.
“Yeah. We’ll dine later tonight. Change in plans”. He took my hand, and this time he took me to a room that had a massage table in the center. It was a beautiful, soft, warm room, very different from the one at his facility. Soft, low lights and colors. I turned to him.
“This is where we begin?” I asked, almost whispering. He nodded, and something took hold of me. I took both hands and lifted my tank top over my head and let it drop. I felt … luscious, yes, that is the word, and he looked at my breasts, up to my eyes, and then let his eyes drop again. I unbuttoned the single button at my waist. He looked up. I smiled, and stepped out of the silk pants. He grabbed them, tossed them over his shoulder and then he was just right there. He took me in his arms. Not roughly, Aidan was never rough. He was strong, decisive and authoritative. He pressed me against his still completely clothed body, and we stayed like that, almost motionless. It was unspoken, but fully acknowledged how delicious it was for both of us. Being naked against his fully clothed form made me sigh.He picked me up, but this time, he had an arm around my back, and one under my knees. He lay me down, and I gazed up at him as he unbuttoned his shirt. “Are you chilly?”
“I’m perfect.” He slid the shirt off, and tossed it to the side. His chest and arms were so masculine, so tawny, very beautiful.
“Good. Turn over, I’m going to start on your backside.”
Here I was, naked with a man I’d never been intimate with before, yet it was… so perfect. I’m not going to say ‘comfortable’ because that word doesn’t do justice to the electrifying, soaring sensation flooding my body as we smiled with each other. I smelled the sandalwood and the patchouli, with other mysterious marvelous fragrances, and I knew I was in for some bliss when I turned over on to my stomach. I felt his breath inside my ear and I shivered slightly. “This is an oil treatment and massage technique I learned in Thailand.”
I heard him stand, and Pink Floyd’s ‘Division Bell’ began. Sounds of vials opening and oil pouring, his hands rubbing together. He timed the first sweep of his hands with the music. They went over and down my shoulders, arms, then back up, and down the whole of my back, and rested there. He was subtly maneuvering the small of my back, as if sensing for something, then down over my ass, and his thumbs pressed into the tops of my thighs. “This music is really lovely, lush, mysterious, and very, very romantic. It reminds me of you, my pink… and golden… beautiful… Bibi.”
His hands were moving, and I gave myself over to his ministrations. I was all sensation, and I lost time. I was his hands, I was my skin and my nerve endings were jumping up to meet him in graceful twirling arabesques as he travelled my body. He was at my feet, and his pressure wasn’t light. Holding on to all of my toes with both hands, he asked softly, “How are you doing?”
It took some small effort, and I breathed out, “Bliss… bliss.”
He came up the backs of my legs, and his hands rested very low on my lumbar area. Something he did. It was something he did. My pelvis flooded with such sweetness that I groaned. One more rush of sweetness, and I began to moan and my hips started to move. The sweetness was flowing like fire in my entire pelvic region, and I was beginning to pant. Aidan kept his hands in that area, and he began to speak very softly. “Feel my hands. Feel very specifically into your body, everywhere I touch you.” My heart area flooded with the sweetness, and a river gushed from my pussy.
“Very Good. Very good. This is known as ‘Making The Goddess Weep’. Hold still, dear one.” He moved closer to my head, and he pressed — hard — into the center of each buttock. Then the rest of his fingers were gliding down, between my legs. He caressed my pussy flower with exquisite tenderness, gently kneading my outer petals. When his fingers took my clit, and gently cupped it, my hips came up off the table, and he caught me and easily spun me over onto my back. I was lost, and panting, very close to orgasming. He was naked; I’d not heard any sounds of his shedding his pants.
He was pouring more oil into his palms. “Patience.” He looked in my eyes, and I saw the arousal, the ardor, the passion. All for me, and my clit throbbed like a tribal drum, gone crazy from missing his touch. He covered the front of my body in oils, and it was then that I realized they were some kind of an aphrodisiac. As he stroked me, I looked down to see his cock throbbing and pulsing in response to the movements — and to me.
“I need you, Aidan. I need you now!” He continued rubbing my skin, then he had my nipples in his fingers. I was moaning, and it might as well have been a song. The album had ended some time ago, and there was a thunderstorm now. Maybe it was outside.
To be continued…