Short story: Starry Silky Love (Part 1)

The martini was slowing my thoughts into dreamy ones. The music was begging me to dance but I was motionless, stuck in my perceptive state. It was like I was having an out-of-body experience. The cigarette smoke filled the yard so that the sky was completely obscured by its dense cloudiness. The paper-thin silky dresses worn by multiple women were showcasing many more details from beneath than clothes usually do.

The chatter.

The drinking.

The dancing.

The laughter.

And her laughter belittling all the rest. Normally it would annoy me to death, but there was something so cute about it when she wailed uncontrollably. Her pretty sapphire-blue eyes twinkled as she let it all out, completely without concern for others' judgement. She just didn't care; she knew how smart and attractive she was. It seems to me like most women don't know it when they really are smart and beautiful, and the ones that aren't think they are. It was nice to see an anomaly of the former sort.

I watched Colette Evans in wonderment as my date danced with other men. Her body teasingly jiggled under the sheer gown as she danced. There were definitely no undergarments. I think it's just the style with the body-hugging silk dresses, but I've always liked the no underwear sorta thing. Normally I regarded it as an open invitation to a delicious after-party of sorts . . . but I was boring my date that night. I lacked the youthful energy she was hoping I'd possess. Maybe I was getting too old for my philandering tendencies. And I didn't care. The only thing that I truly fancied about her was her beauty, honestly. That wouldn't have been a problem for me in the past, but I was ready for more adventure.

Sex would always be there. Women who could carry on an interesting conversation and be more than a sexy body---like Colette---were suddenly more exciting. Plus she was also quite beautiful, I was just noticing. In a way I wasn't used to.

Colette cursed like a sailor in the most un-ladylike way. She held her own among the men surrounding her, and they were all as enchanted with her as I was. I wondered if any of them were her boyfriend. Her unabashed, loud, witty banter was coming out a mile-a-minute. She was also downing champagne as though it were serving a vital purpose, like water to a parched body. But who was I to judge on that front? Besides, most girls would be slurring their words and falling all over themselves with that much alcohol, but it didn't appear to faze Colette. I thought that was kinda sexy.

She seemed to notice me glancing her way. To my surprise, she shimmied right up to me and just started chatting as though we were well-acuainted. "Well hi, Bert! I noticed you over here by your smoldering self and thought I'd come reintroduce myself. It's been a few years since we first met, but who could possibly forget you?" She chuckled. "I wonder, do you remember me? You were a little drunk the first time we met no doubt. Who wasn't that gawwdawful night?" She rolled her eyes. "But we were introduced by our mutual friend Jack Hammond and you were with---"

It's true, we had met three years ago, at Pryce Williams' extravagant New Years Eve party in Atlantic City. I remembered. I hadn't paid as much attention to her at our initial introduction, as I had my sights set on this other woman, Jane Siebert. Jane had just broken up with her former flame of noble status, so I could finally bed her without completely jeopardizing my reputation. I've jeopardized it many times I admit, but I've been lucky. So far.

That was actually a very good night for me: I succeeded in getting Jane. Many times over. I have several flaws, but charm and lady-pleasing are my specialties. Aside from civil engineering.

Anyway, Colette rambled on and on about that night three years ago. I can't rise to her level of chattiness, but I was glad she approached me. She was funny in a cynical way, but also liberated, optimistic and very smart. I appreciated her forward nature. I'm actually a pretty nervous person despite my seduction talents. She was almost intimidating.

But I then realized that I liked Colette in a way that I didn't usually like women. I was inspired. I loved watching her bright red lips move. Yes, her emerald pin adorning her strappy ivory gown was drawing my eyes down to her body, and I wanted to see what was under that gown. She smelled nice. I wanted to touch her hair. But most of all, she was extremely confident for a woman and I loved it. I wanted to go home with her mostly so I could continue to observe her like a work of art.

"I don't even know why I'm still at this stupid party, honestly," Collette said pragmatically. "It's very nice and all but I have a deadline tomorrow and it seems to be dying down anyway. Wanna get outta here, Berty?" She smiled.

She had already nicknamed me! It was 2 am, she had a busy day tomorrow, yet she still clearly wanted a devilish night cap. My kinda woman. "Absolutely." I declared.

The rest is history. I fell into a deep, deep, mad love for Colette Evans, and she with me. We married about five months after that party. And we've been happily devoted to one another ever since, for two and a half years. Mostly devoted, anyway. I've always had a very hard time staying faithful to any one woman. Colette is the only woman I've even tried to be exclusive with.

I honestly do try. What's wrong with me? Other women always initiate it now, not me. But that's the only progress that I've made. I have trouble turning them down. I've loved sex ever since I lost my virginity. I'm probably addicted. And I have a knack for magnetizing exceptionally beautiful women. But I just don't get why I can't hold back when I'm so in love with my wife. I hate myself for it.

I've been told many, many times that I'm a very handsome and irresistible man. That I have a sexual allure that puts women under "a silky, sexy spell," as Colette described it one day. She is very patient with me. Too patient. She knows that I'm trying, and that I will eventually stop completely with time and effort. And I think that maybe she just accepts that this is what a man needs to do to stay happy. Her father cheated on her mother constantly while she was growing up, and her mother just looked the other way.

I know that it still hurts her though. I don't deserve her.

Nobody has ever understood me as well as Colette does. Certainly not my father, my siblings, my first wife, any of my past partners . . . not even my mother. I've found my soulmate. There's no doubt about it. I will find a way to give all of myself to her. Someday it will be so.

We like to go taste the most delectable wines at the Chateau Harrell, and then attend their lavish dances in the ballroom. We're going tonight. It's about a 45 minute drive from here; a beautiful drive. And the sky is so clear up there, away from the city lights. We're going to stargaze and study Colette's astronomical map together.

Astronomy is her current area of focus. Not because she wants a career in the field---she already has a very successful career as a playwright---but because she has to be constantly absorbing new information. That's how her brain works. She's a fiery intellectual.

I like to stargaze with her and wonder if one day our spirits will be exploring space together, after we've lived out our Earthly days in bliss. Eternally floating through the cosmos. Boundless explorers. Always in love and together.

Who knows what happens after we die. But honestly, if life can feel this wonderful, then I don't even care to know what actual heaven is like . . . even though I'm probably not even invited. I just want to be with Colette forever. I hope my afterlife is exactly that, wherever our souls are.

We finish packing up our overnight bags and I load everything into the car. It's a sunny June day. Colette is wearing a white dress and hat---she looks radiant. She smiles at me. "You got everything Berty? The binoculars, your toothbrush, swimming trunks . . ."

"Yes m'lady." I put on my sunglasses, light up a cigarette, start the car, and we set off toward Chateau Harrell.

To be continued...