01
Nov
17

A Date with Corona #3

*****

Date #3:  Downloads and Uploads

Rain threatened to spoil our Friday meeting.  But, I wouldn’t let it.  Grabbing an umbrella, I trotted down to the café where we agreed to meet.  It wasn’t hard to spot the halo and that now familiar denim jacket.  [I wondered why no one else said anything about the light.  Maybe they did.]  A lush brown ponytail rested over one shoulder, bound by a ruffled ring of red elastic.  My opinion of her had improved over the past few encounters, but the mystery remained.  A soft red cap and a wall of feathery bangs allowed her to avoid eye contact.

Biting my hasty tongue, I refrained from questioning her tactics, opting to let her lead the interaction.

She began with a simple question.  “Is there something you need?”

The moment I opened my mouth, rain began to fall in heavy loads, creating broad splashes across the surrounding sidewalk and intersecting streets.

“Okay,” she said, her voice reduced to a droning whisper by the downpour.  She pulled a pen and a paper pad from her jacket and laid both on the table.  “Here is a crossword puzzle.  We can solve it, together.”

Though grateful for the icebreaker, I wasn’t about to sit for another long period with this woman and not have some food in my stomach.  So, I checked the price line on the menu and loaded up my placemat with an order of appetizers.

She merely looked down at the facing puzzle page, occasionally glancing at the food.

I said, “You can have some.”

Hesitating, she put down the pen, reached over and stuffed a fat mozzarella stick into her mouth.  “Delicious.”  There was zero enthusiasm in her voice.

Slightly irritated, I waited for her to say more.

“Mmm!” she added, dragging the sound out to satisfy my probing curiosity.  [I’ll admit, she stirred something deep within myself.]

When all that remained of the food was a handful of cold fried eggplant wedges, we plowed through the remainder of crossword puzzle in a matter of minutes.  All the while, the rain kept pecking away at my contentment, nudging me to chase outside, to embrace Mother Nature.  Wrapping up the cold leftovers, I grabbed my umbrella and encouraged Corona to join me.  She quietly followed me to the register, waiting for me to pay my bill.  But, when we reached the glass doors, she stalled.  Considering she had her own umbrella, I didn’t know why.

We walked, and I did most of the talking until the rain stopped.  When I suggested going back to her place, she said something strange, stranger than usual, that is.  “Your location is currently in use.”

“Come again?”

“Okay.  I’d be glad to come home with you.  You can always change settings, later.”

I wasn’t in the mood to argue, so we made our way back to my place.  Leaving her umbrella by the front door, she took a keen interest in the furniture.  I worried she might find fault with it.  Instead, she stroked a hand across the desk and asked, “Would you prefer me to sit here or on your lap?”

My face flushed, and my legs went numb.  A bottle of champagne popped its cork in my head.  What a question.  I considered saying neither before resting my tired legs on the nearest couch.  Corona joined me, folding both legs under her jiggling rear end, easing toward me with one arm extending along the back of the couch.  It’s not easy to get comfortable with someone’s glowing ring in your face.

Removing her soft, denim casing, Corona gave me an eyeful of her upper body.  [Had she not been wearing such a finely textured top, I might have been annoyed.  I’m not the sort who appreciates nudity thrust upon him.]  “Do you like what you see?  If so, I can send you more pictures.”

My mind was perfectly capable of taking pictures.  I didn’t need more cluttering up every surface they can occupy, and, had I accepted, I was afraid I might become more reclusive than I already was, ogling an image in a state of hibernation instead of dealing with reality.  “Not right now.  Thanks.”

“Okay.  Well, what do you want to do now?”

My thoughts went immediately to playing cards, escaping the sexual influences flooding the gray matter.  I knew very little of her personal interests, thus I couldn’t suggest anywhere else to go or activities to try.  We had tried so little together, and she was regularly asking me for ideas.  I needed her to jumpstart my brain with some information.  I searched her shadowy face for help.

“Sure.  Watching ‘net flicks.  Here.  Let me help you with that.”

Obviously, I had to dig out my computer before she could complete the task.  I hadn’t planned on using my computer as a home theater nor watching a movie before evening, but she was quick to take command.  Turning to me for a title, she found it within seconds.

Strangely, Corona chose to sit in front of me, obstructing my view.  I wasn’t exactly thinking about fondling her, but she was within my reach, accessible to my touch.  It was all just a screen.  When I grabbed her shoulder, she removed my hand and said, “Sorry.  I can’t connect right now.  Try again in a little bit.”

I nearly slept through half of the movie.  My mind just couldn’t stay focused.  Before the end credits had even finished scrolling, my guest proceeded to pop up onto my lap and linked her lips with my own.  I fell into a submissive posture with a growing ache in my back.  Releasing her ponytail, she let a cascade of chocolate waves crash over my neck and chest. My eyes danced as she mechanically shifted her weight up and down the length of my trembling body.  I was loaded with ideas for what to do in that moment, ideas that were not going to fill me in on who this woman was, something I vitally wanted to know before I let her into my private space.  All I knew was her voice, a portion of her façade, her ability to play cards and help with certain computer difficulties.  I didn’t even know if she liked the movie.

Now, it was my turn to bar her and seek refuge.  I asked Corona to leave before I completely lost control.  I could hear a fan inside her head powering up as she forced herself to switch gears in a hurry.  Her retreat gave me chills.  [And, the air-conditioning wasn’t helping.]

Dozing off on the couch, I was startled by the telephone.  A familiar voice met mine across the line.  “Mmph–  Corona?!”

“*Sigh* You mean Cortana.”

‘Same sweetness, but the tone had changed.  “Uh.  Okay.”

“Mr. Writingbolt, my name is Alexis? Cortana.  And, I am afraid you’ve met with my impersonator.”

To Be Continued…

~Writingbolt, 9-26-2017

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