Letters To Emily

Blue

I am walking toward Emily. She's wearing a black dress. The neck line is low cut. Her breasts are noticeably bountiful. Her skin is calling out to me. Her eyes and lips may as well be screaming my name. The bus is empty and Emily is sitting there pouting her red lips and her sapphire eyes are locked on mine. She sets her notebook to the side and I take a seat beside her. She looks like she's going out on a date and I'm in my work a day blue bus driver uniform.
"I love your blue uniform shirt", Emily says as she fingers the stitching at my shoulder and eyes my entire body. I swallow hard. Her fingers trail up to my neck and our eyes are searching each other's faces. Lips are parted and the breathing between us is growing more and more shallow.
"Thank you. I love your dress. And... your eyes and...", my eyes drift to her mouth. Emily traces the shell of my ear with her fingertips and all the blood in my body travels to my dick. I lean into her and she softly presses her lips to mine. She sucks at my bottom lip and opens her mouth slightly to allow my tongue access to hers. Our tongues swirl and slide as her hands slide and make their way to my chest. My hands find her waist and the small of her back. My thumbs slide up and graze at the under side of her breasts. Her hands slide up my chest, over my shoulders and one hand is woven into the back of my hair. The other hand is planted firmly to my shoulder blade. Emily's thigh slides up and I'm tempted to pull her to straddle me. I test the boundaries and stroke the skin of her outer thigh. God damn, it's so smooth and soft. I can't resist. I start to shift her onto me, but she beats to the punch. Emily straddles me in back of this bus. I want to be inside her so badly. I can feel her heat on my lap. It feels like a warm mist beckoning my cock to fuck her. Emily is grinding her hips down into my lap. My hands slide up and cup her bodacious backside. This woman's body is built for sin and I've never wanted to be a sinner more in my life. The blue light of twilight filters in through the bus windows.
Emily unbuttons my uniform shirt and removes it and my white undershirt. My hands slide under the skirt of her dress and I'm relishing the softness of her. We continue to kiss deep soft and slow. Emily pulls away to unzip her dress. As she pulls her top down, my cock is at full attention. Before I can see her voluptuous chest.... I wake up.
I'm sweating and my heart is racing. I'm in my room. Laura is asleep next to me. I breathe a sigh of relief. I can't let her see me flustered like this. I slip out of bed and head to the shower. It needs to be a cold one for sure. I go to the kitchen and pour my cereal. I eat. I gather my things, kiss Laura on the cheek as she dreams, and walk to work. The fresh fall morning air is sobering. I think of a new poem.

Temptress
She is not innocent
Those blue bejeweled eyes mock me
Skin youthful and rosy like a child
A body with dangerous winding curves
Her mouth is like forbidden fruit and the words she speaks like the elixir to save a soul
So why do I feel like I'm burning?
Like I'm being swallowed whole
She's an all consuming force like a raging fire or hurricane
Desperation seeps in and drives me insane
I am faithful to my commitment
She may look it, but she is not innocent.
Neither am I.

********************************************

I go to the waterfall on my break. I sit on the bench everyday and eat my lunch that Laura so lovingly prepares the night before. When I arrive at my usual spot, there's someone sitting there already. I slowly approach this person who is wearing a black wide brimmed hat and writing furiously into a brown leather bound notebook. Her hair is falling over her shoulders in chocolatey waves.
"Excuse me. May I share the bench with you?", I ask this woman.
She looks up from her writing and those crystal blue eyes look up at me and there's instant recognition on her part. It's Emily and that pouty mouth spreads into a wide smile. I inhale sharply and I suddenly feel a little dizzy.
"Paterson! Hi! Yes, you absolutely can share the bench with me. Please, sit!", Emily exclaims with such youthful fervor.
I sit and begin to eat my lunch. I decide to set my notebook to the other side of me.
"So, what brings you here Paterson?", Emily asks as her hand and pen rest on the open page of her journal.
"I come here everyday for my lunch break. What brings you here Emily?", I ask looking at Emily while taking a bite of my sandwich.
"Really? Wow. What a small world. I took a walk on my break today and I just kind of ended up here. Isn't it just so beautiful here? It's calming. It quiets the soul."
"Yeah. It's my favorite place", I admit.
"Well, it's not hard to see why", Emily replies.
"What are you writing? Any warm feelings today?", I ask with a barely audible chuckle.
"You know, I've been extremely stimulated by lots of things lately. You ever become hyper sensitive to certain surroundings? Sometimes that sensitivity becomes fixation, and before you know it, you have to get it on to paper. You feel like you're gonna burst!", Emily exclaims. "I'm of course writing a poem. Would you like to hear what I have so far?", Emily asks and I'm so anxious to hear her innermost thoughts. After the dream I had last night, I know all about hypersensitivity and fixation.
I answer her, "I'd love to hear your poem. Please."
"Ok... it's a bit rough, but here it goes", Emily says clearing her throat first and begins.

Stacks Calling
The walls in my apartment are red and brown brick
Wine is in the glass on the nightstand
There is warmth all around me beneath this rosy bed covering
I snuggle deeper into the cushion of the mattress like a lover's chest beneath my hands.
I fear the cold that threatens to take away the warmth of this cocoon
I become brave and swiftly remove the covers like a band aid
I shower and make the coffee
There is money to be made and rent to be paid
I'd rather be writing beneath fall leaves
Instead I line them up in the stacks.

Emily finishes her poem and I feel like I've just been woken up inside her home and tagged along with her to work. She just looks up at me as if to ask what I think.
"That was lovely. I feel like... you took me on a journey through your day. I like your allusion to trees becoming paper and then books. The line about the mattress was intriguing. There's layers to it. Thank you for sharing that", I compliment her and part of me wants to tell her I write poems too, but I'm afraid that would open up a Pandora's box of uncomfortable questions. I'm such a coward. They are just words. I admire people like Emily. She's so brave and willing to bare her soul. Laura wants me to publish my works, but sometimes I wonder if Laura thinks everything is wonderful.
"You're welcome. Thank you for the critique. I love feedback. It helps me to become a better writer and artist. Whether commentary is negative or positive, I welcome it", Emily says and I can tell she genuinely means that. I decide to go there.
"I'm gonna let you in on something, but you can't tell anyone else", I say giving Emily a look that suggests I'm waiting for her to agree to discretion.
"Ooooh, a secret. I promise it's safe with me. Seriously... who am I gonna tell? I'm a total loner. You're probably the first friend I've made in Paterson since I moved here", Emily says while talking with her hands.
I take a deep breath and release a heavy exhale as I say, "I write poetry too."
Emily blankly stares at me for a moment. She gives me a squinty side eye as if to suggest she thinks I'm full of shit.
"Is this some kind of pick up line? Are you bull shitting me right now?", she asks slightly defensively. She starts to grab her purse and notebook.
I say quickly as I pull my notebook out and quickly flip it open, "No, no, no, no, no. I really do write. Look. I've just been too nervous to share it with anyone. See? And ... not to be an asshole or anything, but you tried to pick me up last night, so.... anyway, that's beside the point."
Emily looks down at my notebook as I quickly fan the pages open. She breathes a sigh of relief.
"That's so amazing. No wonder we get along so well. You know what? We should be pen pals. Instead of letters, we will exchange poetry", Emily says reaching into her bag for her journal and a pen. She tears out a piece of paper and writes down her address and phone number. She places it in my hand. I'm suddenly incredibly nervous. I take the paper and place it in my notebook.
"Can I have your address Paterson?", Emily asks.
I hesitate...and ask, "Um... can you maybe just hand me new poems when you ride the bus?"
Emily looks confused and says, "Uh, sure. I mean I get it. We're still practically strangers. I probably shouldn't have given out my address just now either, but I trust you Paterson. I'll totally hand deliver my notes to you. No problem."
"Thanks. Uh... I have to get back to the bus. See you around Emily."
"See you around Paterson", Emily says as she smiles and waves goodbye to me.
We walk in opposite directions and we each look over our shoulders to wave goodbye with smiles. I brush my fingers through my hair to set it out of my face. I take a deep breath and climb into the bus.