Today is Saturday- foggy beach

'Yellow panties' is napping right now. When I picked her up last night she did not look like she was happy to see me. Her hair seemed a bit lifeless and dull. Her green irises were tinted brown by the swelling redness in her whites. Her cheeks were a bit pallid and suggested a heavy heart. She had on the green sweatshirt (from our first date), some jeans and her green addidas shoes. She had a small suitcase. Before she got into my car, she put on a forest green and brown cable knit cap. Her ears peeked out from under it and tiny bits of hair tickled the air. She looked over at me, and for a brief moment a small butterfly-pang hit me. She leaned over and kissed me. The taste of her tongue and mouth told me that she had been crying.
'I am really happy to see you' I said.
She turned away, whimpered slightly, and said something which was eaten up by a deep sob.
The whole ride to the beach, I kept thinking that she was going to puke. I tried to find some music that might soothe her, but I finally just turned the sound off. We entered the gate to the beach, and the guard gave me an odd glance when he bent down to say hello to my passenger. I think he was shocked to not recognize her, and knew better than to make a grave mistake for my weekend. I gave him a thankful nod, and made a gesture of, 'I owe you.'
The sun was just setting when we entered the beach house. Fog had settled over the early evening and had cooled the light significantly. I showed 'Yellow panties' around and I told her that she should make herself comfortable. I went out to unload the groceries and to get firewood and wine. When I came back in, 'Yellow panties' was reclined on my chair. She was smoking and had what looked to be a tumbler of vodka. Her green shoes dug into the ottoman- which pissed me off- but made her seem more relaxed- which made me happier.
Fire on, music on (thank god for MacBook Pro and airport), wine opened, food out. My first cigarette, a deep breath and a shot of pappy. I could finally relax as well.
I came up behind her and kissed the back of her ear and nibbled the lobe. She leaned back into my kiss and let out a joyful sigh- just one small one. I sat down next to her and said, 'You know, I am sorry for your loss. I don't really know you that well, but I am truly sorry. I really like you, and I want you to be happy, so your sadness saddens me.'
Her face did not move, but streaks of tears started pouring out. She made no noise. Her lip quivered a bit, and her eyes began clearing. I told her that we needed to go on a walk on the beach. As the suns sets, and the ocean takes over the night, endless sorrow is devoured by the lapping, lap lap of the waves. The sea air gets into the blood and cleans the heart. And when the darkness finally grabs hold of joy's hand they will waltz till the sun peeks out from the covers and cries, 'good morning.'
On our walk we bumped into three of my neighbors. They were all clearly taken aback by my companion- funny how neighbors can somehow live your life. 'Yellow panties' (I need to start calling her by her name) was a good sport. She actually perked up, and asked if I was in a relationship. I told her that I had recently ended one, and that these people probably didn't know that. We chatted for a brief moment about Sophia, but I was quick to end the chat and I said, 'Listen, I know that I have only met you, but I like you. And, I want to be with you right now. And I want to enjoy my weekend with you.' She seemed to smile, and then she asked why I hadn't married- not that she wanted to get married. I told her about how I have never thought about it, but that I had deeply considered asking Sophia to marry me, but I just couldn't find the words. Once again, I reiterated with her that I want to spend the weekend with her, and that we should stop talking about my ex.
We made it back to the place and warmed up by the fire. The food was good, the wine was better, and the cigarettes and words made me very excited. When we finally started passionately kissing late into the night, she seemed to be more of herself. She was stripped down to her panties (black) and I was fully naked. I began kissing her neck, then breasts, and then her stomach. As I made my way down to her panties, she grabbed me and said, 'No.' She tried to pull me back up to her. I got a hint of why she had balked, and I said, 'I am ok with it, it does not bother me.' She seemed embarrassed, and unsure, so I calmly reassured her with a gentle whisper and slight kiss on lips and returned. Her black panties came off and revealed a freshly shorn delight. One small, fine white hair remained which I plucked and threw into the fire.
The hoot, hoot of a barred owl, eyes yellowed bright from moonlight, called out in the night. Its love, only a few trees away, cowered and writhed, bobbing and bouncing up and down, thrusting its head toward the carnal delight. The captured prey is offered to the mate and hoots fill the night air with wondered, puzzled elation.
The Striga of my Nonna's stories was a scary figure, but I was fascinated by the myth. My Nonna had told stories of how the Striga had raped her sister and made her barren. A giant beak and lustful claws ripped the fertility from her sister and carried them off into a full moon. The men of my Nonna's village had chased the Striga and killed off all the owls that they met. These men were killed off by the Black Caps who kept owls as pets.
Today we spent most of the day in bed. I haven't napped and lounged like this for many years. We took a few walks on the fogged beach, but most of the day was spent in bed, on the couch, or in the shower. Nicolette is a very sweet person. I feel very comfortable when I am in her. It is very easy and nice and her warm soft skin and smooth eyes make me feel very young and healthy. Should I feel this good?
Xioba