"RED"dened ECSTASY

A ruffled bed sheet, an air conditioned room and two windows. I gaze outside to find the sun playing hide and seek with the clouds, keeping people guessing about the hue of the sky this evening.
My eyes twitch at the prolonged sight of the sunset. Undone by the raging sun, I decide to have a shower. Shower taken, cologne splashed all over, a cup of coffee taken and a sigh of relief follows.
Its time now. No time to waste. Time to get wild, dirty and messy. Dressed in the lightest clothing and the most relaxing of foot wears I hurry downstairs . . . there she is!
The sun has set and though I failed to guess the hue of the sky, there’s just no way I could miss her. . Red hot. . She stands still there . . . as if she’s never interested in the sunset or in me. I try to stare at her from different angles yet no reaction. It’s just the mood she is in. Calm, quiet, dignified, always a fire within that never really flared outside. Her shadow gets longer, even longer and just when about to touch the leather of my shoe it vanishes in a selfish display of naughtiness and allure. The sun just denied me the darkness of her shadow, the depth of her virtual imagery.
I have resisted enough. I have been patient but I can never be a saint. My cologne has started to diffuse and it’s just the perfect moment to pull her into the intoxicating aura that enveloped me. Before I could lose myself in her and faint gazing, it was wise to step forward and tease her in the dark. The sun has gone down at the right time leaving us alone. It’s just me and her mood.
I have known her but never felt her, never touched her, never spoilt her. I step closer. As I get closer, I start to get intimidated by the silence and the stance of her. I believe she can just break this silence anytime, can light up the darkness at a touch and can just burn the whole air around in a flash. Enough of mind games and enough of my timidity. One look over the shoulders and I step faster. She is just a step away from me now. I hold her by her arm and fling it across to give myself space. Now I am confident. She is shaken a bit but nevertheless silent, yet that fire is just about to go up in flames. She even "feels" hot. . . I am all comfortable and as I move my hands across her inside, I start feeling like Alexander. It’s softer inside. . . A twist and she now reacts. The silence is broken . . . a push there and it no more seems to be dark. I can see the curves "ahead". I press on her. She growls and moans and then a little pull just sets the fire on. She takes me to a different world and time seems to just fly. She is shaken "me" now. I am floored. But I don’t stop there. I press harder and I just fiddle around with everything. I push, I pull, I shove, I fondle, I thrust and now I can feel her under the skin. It’s an experience. I indulge in the process and she keeps me pushing harder . . . into the "corners", out on the "straight", into the darkest areas.
All expectations have been shattered because I had always been a silent spectator. Now I am hers and she’s mine. I spoil her and she spoils me even more. I get naughty and she makes me feel dirty. My hands are getting stiffer and I am sweating. My heart is beating like thunder; my panting could challenge any of the dogs on my street. But I am not tired, I am just thrilled to the limits and I am yet to find if such a limit exists!
Its got real dark now. I have had the ride of a lifetime. I ease myself around her and just try to get over her magnetism. I slow down, relax and go back to where it all started. I again fling her arms wide open to free myself from that whirlpool of orgasm and climaxes.
Surprisingly, my shirt is intact, there is sweat in my leather, my hair is just a bit shabby and the cologne still haunts me. I retreat to give her a final look. She still is hot and the fire still burns. There is darkness but she shines. There’s silence again but now I am no closer to her and she decides to give silence a chance. Mesmerised and transfixed by all this I look around . . .
I can smell burning rubber, I can see the marks on the asphalt and I still hear the echo of a rip-snorting, gas guzzling V12 Porsche engine . . . she made my evening . It’s not every time you feel like praising someone. But now I am confused . . . should I fall in love with her or just thank the people who made her so beautiful, so desirable and so much unreal.
She stands there, her lights try to wink at me and say "wanna go for a ride baby". That shimmering red paint keeps me tempting. And those seven letters "P O R S C H E" still make me thank the "real" people behind the wheels.