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My Favorite Southern City

As a consultant for a media corporation my work takes me all over the US. It was the Spring of 2002 that I found myself in Nashville killing some time at the local mall after a hard day's work. I walked through the doors and suddenly found myself face-to-face with the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. Her golden hair flowed across tanned cheeks accentuated with sky-blue eyes. Full red lips caressed her face with a smile. Her white plunging cowl neck mini dress nearly caused my eyes to bulge as they scanned her perfect feminine form. "Excuse me," she politely smiled, with an accent that Scarlet O'Hare could only faintly imitate. The gushing tingle between my legs caused me to barely stammer, "I'm sorry," as our two ships passed.

I knew I had gone to the mall for something, but for the life of me I couldn't remember what. My mind kept rehearsing my near head-on collision with that gorgeous Southern Belle. Finally, I made my way to Sam Goodie's and browsed through some CD's I'd been wanting, remembering I was only at the mall to kill some time before returning to my hotel room for the evening. To this day I don't recall any particular CD I really looked at, but I do have a Culture Club album that came from who knows where. As I headed out the door I decided to stop in this little bar for a drink and a dream. A dream about how lucky that white cowl neck dress was.

I don't normally dream about other women, but this girl had a spell on me. I'm not gay, although beautiful women have always fascinated me. There was that time or two, or five, in college. But we were just exploring and having fun. Now, as I sipped my Mich Lite, all I could think of was what it would be like to gently press my lips against Ms. Belle's mouth. Lick my tongue across her teeth. Fondle her breast with my right hand while pulling her soft form against mine with my left hand around her ivory neck. My leg spreading her's until our pussies massaged each other with flowing juices. Her hands stroking my ass while our bodies swayed together in perfect rythymn.

"Excuse me," interrupted a familiar accent. My eyes bolted open to see that white dress in the mirror beside me. "What?" I mutter with panties soaked to the bar stool. "Excuse me, but is this seat taken?" "Aah ... no ... no, go ahead." I felt like a 6th grade school girl talking to a boy for the first time. But there she was! Sitting right next to me. Ordering a drink. No matter how hard I tried I just kept gazing into the mirror in disbelief. I had to say something. I had to talk to her.

"Do you come here often?" As soon as those words came out of my mouth I felt so stupid. That's what everybody says. That's what all those loser guys say to me everytime I go out. "I hope she doesn't think I'm a loser," I thought to myself. "No," she explained, "I'm just in town for a couple of days. I'm from Atlanta. You?" "I'm from Chicago," I choked, "just here for a day or so myself. On business."

Whatever her first impression of me was we seemed to get past. Before long we were talking and laughing like two old friends. She was kind and gentle, and oh so hot. But what really sent chills pulsating through my skin was the way she pierced me with her eyes. I caught myself peering down that cowl neck dress a time or two, but my eyes always came back to her's. And the more they locked on to each other the closer our bodies drew.

My husband told me that the first time he knew we'd be together was when our eyes met; I knew it too. And, I was knowing it all over again. You know that sparks are flying when two people begin to touch during a conversation. So when Janet's hand rested on my thigh as she leaned toward me laughing I could have dowsed a camp fire. Instinctively I embraced her and pulled her close as we laughed. The laughing ceased but the embrace remained. We slowing pulled back from each other, eyes entwined. Then she caressed her cheek to mine and whispered, "I think we're staying in the same hotel tonight." My heart raced as a big smile covered my face. We leaned on each other's foreheads and I breathed, "Ok."

I love Nashville! It's a beautiful city. But my favorite Southern city ... now ... is Atlanta.

End of Story