Cape May

French Kissing in an Italian Restaurant

The following Monday we met down in Greenwich Village in lower Manhattan. New Yorkers just call it the Village. It is considered the bohemian capital of the world. It is a fascinating place to walk and watch humanity. The streets are small and narrow with cobblestone streets that date back to the beginning of America. It's easy to get lost in the village if one is not familiar with it's short, ending nowhere streets and the peculiarity of having names like Bleecker, Thompson, Mercer, etc rather than street numbers. But this, they say gives it it's charm. All types of people frequent the Village, weirdoes, gay, straight, you name it, they have it, a cornucopia of strange mixed with the norm – a perfect place to blend in and disappear in broad daylight. And at night, that's when the show begins. There are small shops that sell everything from brand name clothing to sex toys and porn. Night is where the action is.

We met at about five pm on Bleecker St and roamed the streets like two teenagers in love. We walked hand in hand, window shopping, kissing, touching, two beings in love. It was still daylight as it was July. We walked to Washington square Park and watched the street performers. Sitting on a bench in lower Manhattan we re-connected, stared each other in the eyes and fell in love all over again. We brought in the night in the park then decided to get something to eat. We chose a small, almost hidden Italian bistro on the corner of Grand and Greene Streets, named appropriately, if not stereotypically, Luigi's. It was dark inside, with candle lit tables and small alcoves where one could sit and not be seen by other diners. It being early in the evening we got our choice of a secluded table in one of these hidden alcoves. It is the perfect restaurant for a clandestine rendezvous with an illicit lover.

If one were to ask me if the food was any good, I must honestly say I don't know, for the entire evening my eyes were on the most beautiful woman in the world, my mouth constantly on hers. We spent the entire time immersed in each other, unable to get enough of each other. We kissed, touched, caressed, smiled, stared, rubbed, afraid that time would pass by and we would not get enough. Finally, she remembered something and asked,

"Bobby, on Saturday when I was describing our first time, you kept smiling kinda funny. What was that all about?"

In the dim light of our table I smile again.

"I love the way you talk. As you were describing your experience, you kept using terms like my cock, your pussy and I find that so real, so stimulating. You see, Holly calls him my penis and her vagina. I love your rawness."

She sidled closer to me and under the table I could feel her hand as it slid up my thigh, finally resting on my crotch. She leaned over and whispered in my ear, "Like how I'd love to feel your hard cock stretching my tight little pussy and have you fuck me so hard I can't walk for a week."

She gave my ear a lick and I felt myself almost coming in her hand.

"Exactly, baby, exactly."

It was the first time I can remember calling her baby. She was always Gabby and I was always Bobby to her. I don't know why this was so. Perhaps by calling each other anything else we would weaken the bond of who we were to each other. She was my sister and I her brother and our love was based on that from the very beginning. That was the core of our existence and to do anything else would dilute that core. I could call a girlfriend baby or honey because we don't have that connection to the same womb. I may just be reaching here, but she will never be anything but Gabby to me and I, her Bobby.

Always and forever.

That night we talked, but we did not reminisce nor dwell about our love past. Instead we talked about our future, our new future. This was the new us, and the future beckoned us. We made plans - she would stay an extra week and we'd meet, like lovers on the sly in her hotel and make up for lost time. The covert nature of it made it all that more exciting.

So, we talked, we smiled, we touched, we caressed and if any one had the chance to see us that night they would just have seen two lovers French kissing in an Italian Restaurant.