The American Princess - Best Love Story Ever (25 page)

"Don't look so forlorn. I'll do my best. It
was a terrible price that Psyche had to pay for wanting to see the
man she loved, because once you've lived with the gods it's
impossible to be happy living with mere mortals."

She pulled Brad tightly against her. "I'll
always be happy living with mere mortal you."

He hugged and kissed her. "So Psyche whiled
away her days and nights, sad and alone. Finally, in desperation,
she decided to go to the Temple of Venus, and ask the goddess of
love to help her."

"Bad move. Asking Venus for help has to be a
big mistake."

"Initially it was, because when Psyche knelt
in prayer, Venus saw an opportunity to cause her even more grief.
Remember that Venus despised Psyche for more than her beauty.
Psyche had taken Venus' favorite son from her, and then she'd made
him ill from the heartache she'd caused him."

"So what did Venus do to Psyche?"

"'What would you do to get your husband
back?' Venus asked her. 'I'd do anything', Psyche replied. That was
what Venus had hoped she'd say, because it gave her an opportunity
to give Psyche an impossible task. Venus said, 'If you can prove
that you're a worthy wife for my son, by showing me that you're
capable of an honest day's work, then you may have him back.'"

Betty-Jo saw an opening. "What would I have
to do to prove that I was a worthy wife for you?" she asked. But
even as she asked, her hand was doing things to Brad that she knew
would make her worthy.

"Because it's you, I'd make it easy. All
you'd have to do is learn the alphabet backward."

"Learn the alphabet backward?"

"Everyone knows it forward. But you should
have a unique talent to be worthy of me." He gave her his Tom
Cruise grin. "ZYX and WV; UTS and RQP. Work on it. Marriage vows
are only an EDCBA away."

"You surprise me sometimes."

"Because I know the alphabet backward?"

"No. That amazes me. What surprises me is
that you know it in any direction."

"May we get back to Psyche?" Brad said.

"ZYX and WV. I know most of it backward
already."

"Psyche was led to a storeroom where a great
mound of grain: wheat, corn, barley, and oats had been mixed to
feed Venus' pigeons. 'Separate the seeds into four piles by
nightfall, and you shall have your Cupid back', Venus said. Psyche
went quickly to work, but it soon became apparent that the task was
impossible—it would take months to complete. Psyche began to sob,
afraid that she'd lost her husband forever."

Betty-Jo frowned. "I thought you were working
on a happy ending."

"But then Psyche noticed that the pile of
grain was moving—thousands of ants were separating the seeds. Of
course, it was Cupid's doing. He'd realized that he couldn't live
without her."

"Yes!" cried an ecstatic Betty-Jo. She pulled
Brad to her and gave him an elated, thanking, demanding kiss. Then,
when he wasn't responsive enough for her liking, she moved wantonly
on top of him.

"So Psyche passed the test, but she still had
a problem. Mighty Zeus had fallen in love with the beautiful
mortal, and he wanted her to be near him on Olympus."

"Zeus is wasting his time. Psyche's proven
that she's nothing, if not faithful."

"True. But Zeus knew that with women you can
never be a hundred percent sure."

"Zeus is full of it. You know that I'll
always be faithful to you."

"Why are you so loveable, especially when
you're angry?" He entwined his fingers in her hair, pulled her down
to him, and kissed her. "On the pretense of encouraging Cupid to
settle down, Zeus did something he'd never done before. He gave
Psyche a cup of nectar that made her immortal, a goddess, in other
words. Then he threw a great feast at which Cupid and Psyche were
married again—this time as equals. And then, as far as I know, they
lived happily ever after."

Betty-Jo hugged her lover. "Thank you, that
was a lovely ending. Did you end it that way just for me?"

"I would have, but that was how it really
ended. Cupid and Psyche even had a daughter named Pleasure."

"Pleasure." She tried the name out loud.
"That would be a good name for a daughter," she said with a grin.
"If we wanted one."

He grinned back. "It would be. Get to work on
your backward alphabet."

"How could Psyche have a daughter, I thought
she was forty-five."

"She was. Maybe once you're immortal, you can
have as many daughters as you want, at any age. But strangely,
Pleasure was mortal. It appears that whatever was in the nectar
that made Psyche immortal, wasn't passed on to her offspring. Now
lets get to work on our own fairytale, with a happy ending. All you
have to do is tell me your bear's name, and the name of my beauty
spot."

"I Love Only You Brad—Please Do Me."

He was about to act on her request, when a
thunderstorm struck without warning. As they sprinted for the
shelter of the cottage, he said, "Could that be Venus trying to
intimidate us?"

She believed that the thunderstorm was just a
coincidence, but she had an uneasy feeling. Could it be that Venus
really is threatening me?

Betty-Jo—A Tawny Concubine?

When Betty-Jo and Brad were safely inside, he
told her that he had a surprise for her. Then he introduced her to
imagery. Eventually, imagery played a key role in her tennis
ability, but initially, it played a key role in their lovemaking,
and in her becoming his Tawny Concubine.

"We have to get serious about our non-visual
senses," he said.

"Why don't we skip the nonsense, and do
something that's fun?"

"Patience, child. Soon all shall be
revealed." He turned out the lights, and put a blanket over the
bedroom window.

"You said 'soon all shall be revealed'. I
can't see a thing."

"Luckily for you, I'm in a good mood. Instead
of a blanket over the window, I could have gone with a paper bag
over your head."

She wasted a smile on the darkness. "And I
could go with a plastic bag over yours. Now I don't have to look at
you. With the plastic bag, soon I wouldn't have to listen to you
either."

"Touché, vindictive Cat." He trailed his
fingertips lightly over her damp, naked body, and explained. "I
want to touch, smell, and taste you without those senses being
overpowered by your beauty. It's imagery. It brings into play,
senses other than sight."

Imagery might be fun, she thought. "So you've
decided to practice your imagery nonsense on me?"

"Right." He took the gold wafer that hung
between Fun and More Fun, and trailed it across her polka dots.
Their response to the cool, smooth gold was immediate. Then his
fingertips moved downward over her belly before they descended
lower. "You should enjoy this. Women are more sensitive than guys
to touch, smell, and taste."

She allowed the caress of Brad's voice to
soothe her. "I do love the way you taste and smell—kind of
woodsy."

"Then this is your chance to go native in the
forest, while your wonderful Tawny Cat taste and aroma beckon
me."

She stiffened when the gold wafer again
teased the tips of her breasts, but soon she had relaxed and was
smelling, tasting, and touching her lover all over. "I could grow
fond of night school," she said.

The sensations, as they mingled with the
velvet and leather of her lover's voice, were exquisite. She kissed
her way across his chest, and down across his hard, salty-tasting
stomach. Then she lingered between his legs, breathing in his
earthy aroma; it was a time of the month when the scent of her
lover was especially arousing.

Brad took over again. Against the blackness
he gently stroked, caressed, and traced her contours.

"I can tell from feel alone that the bounce
in Fun and More Fun could only have come from granola bars." His
demanding mouth roamed over her, filling the darkness with
unimaginable delights. Her entire body was poised—tingling and
alive, aware and yearning. She felt a tenderness, a
lightheadedness, and a desire to be touched and tasted all over by
a lover that she couldn't get enough of.

Finally, he shifted over her, eased into her,
and then lay quietly.

There, safe in her lover's arms, the filled
to overflowing sensation was paradise. She reveled in the euphoria
she felt whenever he was part of her. But this time it was
different; this time he was making the euphoria last, seemingly
forever.

* * *

Brad was uncertain where he had first heard
about Karezza—the Hindu practice of a man staying awake in his
lover for hours at a time. "Chinese mandarins are reputed to have
carried on their business dealings while inside their concubines,"
he said with a grin, that only the darkness could see. "A fun bunch
of guys, those mandarins."

"You could be a fun guy too, if you could
afford a concubine."

She'll never go for this. "Tawny Cat, you
could be my concubine. But you'd have to work for minimum wage
because Karezza can last for hours."

"You think that having your very own
concubine would enhance your rep?"

"Couldn't hurt it. I'd be the only guy on the
block who had one. And besides, why should those Chinese mandarins
get all the concubines?"

"You do have a point. Okay, I'll be your
Tawny Concubine, but on a trial basis only. And I want
time-and-a-half for anything over four hours."

"Sounds like a pretty slack workday to
me."

"Anything over three hours."

"Done!" He turned on the light. "Don't go
away while I'm putting on my suit."

"You're wearing a suit?"

"That's what we mandarins wear when we're
working."

"What do I wear?"

He grinned. "What you have on now, your
choker and your gold wafer."

"You're planning to get your money's worth,
aren't you?"

"Hope so."

"All right, Mr. Mandarin. It's you who's
paying. But wear your Hugo Boss, the other one itches."

"Luckily for you, I'm a considerate
mandarin."

"And don't invite any clients over."

Mandarin Brad kissed his new concubine. "If
all concubines are as free with their advice as you, it's amazing
that any of 'em are still working."

Brad's Tawny Concubine lay on his desk, her
legs resting on the arms of his swivel chair which had been cranked
up as far as it would go. He—looking Hugo Bossish respectable—was
nestled deep inside her, and smiling like a happy face. She smiled
right back. For a while he fiddled on his computer with his 'Saint
Joan' essay, but then he became more serious. He turned on
Beethoven's 'Moonlight Sonata', with its muted piano passage—the
tranquil mood that Karezza seemed to require. Then the brand new
mandarin asked Johann Pachelbel's 'Cannon' to bring on some serious
grinning, as violins soared above a repeating base. He liked
Pachelbel's 'Cannon'. It dwelled in his memory long after the last
note had faded. For the finale he was saving Vivaldi's 'Four
Seasons: Spring', with its thunderstorm.

* * *

"Have I told you how much I love having you
in me like this?" Betty-Jo said.

"Have I told you how much I love being
there?" he replied.

"Professional concubine is an occupation I'm
growing to love. It feels as if we've flowed together. I can't tell
where I end and where you begin."

After about half an hour, with Tawny Cat's
scent wafting about them, Brad said, "You have no idea how much I
love your aroused, Tawny Cat aroma. I can't get enough of it."

Soon heavy breathing was emanating from
Brad's Tawny Concubine, followed shortly thereafter by low pitched
moans.

"Could it be that my concubine is arriving
without permission?" he asked.

"Please, Mr. Mandarin," Betty-Jo pleaded, "I
can't stop it!". Then the waves of pleasure were radiating outward,
and they would not stop—they just kept coming.

"Why would I go to church when I can
participate in the rapture here with you?" he said, before he also
lost control. His body stiffened, and he grabbed her head with both
hands and probed her eyes.

Betty-Jo knew that he loved to look into her
eyes when she peaked, so she tried to keep them open for him.

"Why do you like to have me while you're
looking into my eyes?" she asked.

"When you peak, your pupils become large,
glazed, and out-of-focus—it's then that I can merge with your
soul."

And she knew that he could. Because in those
moments—when he brought her to her crest, and then controlled her
as she came—she gave herself to him fully.

"So much for a Karezza record with you," he
said.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't help it. I tried to
hold back."

He laughed. "Not to worry. You're the finest
concubine ever. If you hadn't arrived when you did, I would
have."

She smiled in her lover's embrace. "Then
you'd have had to pay me time-and-a-half."

"When what a mandarin needs, after a hard
days work, is love and understanding, what does he get—a mercurial
cat."

She brushed her mandarin's lips with hers. "A
Tawny Concubine has to make her way in this world as best she
can."

"Just as long as you don't make it with
anybody but me."

"I'll only be unfaithful with you," she said.
"But how can I be sure that you won't start looking around for a
concubine with more staying power?"

"Let's face it, neither of us is physically,
or emotionally, made to set Karezza endurance records—but so what?
I love to chat with you when we're together like that. The Karezza
frequency record is as good as ours."

She hugged her mandarin. "Mmm," she said,
"Karezza with you is beyond amazing. I just wish you could be in me
all the time." And although she already knew the answer, because he
couldn't stop grinning, she asked anyway. "So how was it for you,
Mr. Mandarin?"