Le meilleur de nuits

We enter the quaint, upscale restaurant in the small village just outside the city. We enjoy the ambiance and the hushed tones that allow us to speak quietly and playfully to each other. I take in her bearing and her dark, beautiful countenance. I note how she contrasts with the manila colored walls and the enormous oil painting that hangs behind her as I take pleasure in the work of art that she herself is...

She delights me as she always does and it amuses me when she is experiencing something foreign that she is enjoying. Her eyes are sparkling and wide while recording all details. She sits on my left with perfect posture and looks almost childlike as her feet barely touch the floor beneath the table. She fidgets with the linen and dishes with her charming mannerisms and after a while I pull her face to mine with gentle fingers and kiss her lightly. Her large coffee colored eyes gleam behind luscious lashes and glitter like black diamonds above the dazzling cranberry framed smile that rivals the white china before us.

Other eyes find her over glasses of wine and plates of food. They look, these eyes; lingering, lusting, thinking lascivious thoughts they cannot mask within the hound dog eyes of those who will never know her charms or the wickedness of wanton whims that they could not fathom that we frequent...

We dine, then linger over coffee. I present her a token of adoration and we kiss again before she whispers a complaint that the tablecloths here aren't long enough for her to slip unseen beneath them. I laugh, loving her libido and lascivious longings.

As we leave, the music of a live band greets us with a favorite song and we sit in the car, moon roof open, listening as we touch, and make out beneath the stars...

We drive around talking, planning, scheming, and dreaming on this night that neither of us ever wants to end. This best of nights...