Showing posts with label erotica story. Show all posts
Showing posts with label erotica story. Show all posts

Thursday, July 24, 2014

Cracked Ice story-list of all of the segments (so far)

If reading the "Cracked Ice" story, this post was created to it easier to read it in chronological order. I started posting this in August of 2013.

Part 1:  http://leora-tozer.blogspot.com/2013/08/cracked-ice-part-1.html

Part 2:  http://leora-tozer.blogspot.com/2013/08/cracked-ice-part-2.html

Part 3:  http://leora-tozer.blogspot.com/2013/08/cracked-ice-part-3.html

Part 4:  http://leora-tozer.blogspot.com/2013/08/cracked-ice-part-4.html

Part 5:  http://leora-tozer.blogspot.com/2013/08/cracked-ice-part-5.html

Part 6:  http://leora-tozer.blogspot.com/2013/10/cracked-ice-part-6.html

Part 6.5: http://leora-tozer.blogspot.com/2013/10/cracked-ice-part-65.html

Part 7:  http://leora-tozer.blogspot.com/2013/10/cracked-ice-part-7.html

Part 8:  http://leora-tozer.blogspot.com/2013/10/cracked-ice-part-8.html

Part 8.5:  http://leora-tozer.blogspot.com/2013/11/cracked-ice-part-85.html

Part 9:  http://leora-tozer.blogspot.com/2013/12/cracked-ice-part-9.html

Part 9.5:   http://leora-tozer.blogspot.com/2013/12/cracked-ice-part-95.html

Part 9.75:  http://leora-tozer.blogspot.com/2014/02/cracked-ice-part-975.html

Part 10:  http://leora-tozer.blogspot.com/2014/03/cracked-ice-part-10.html

Part 10.5:  http://leora-tozer.blogspot.com/2014/04/cracked-ice-part-105.html

Tuesday, April 29, 2014

Cracked Ice - Part 10.5

“CRACKED ICE” by Leora Tozer © 2014 -Part 10.5 

Art’s two-toned cream-colored Caddy Roadster was idling outside the boarding house at 10pm. 

I was walking downstairs in a long peach-toned silk dress. Nellie was standing by the front door, and said to me, “Looks like someone’s waiting for you.” 

“Yes, but do you have a shawl I could borrow?” I asked. 

“Of course,” she answered, while holding up a colorful and beautifully embroidered silk shawl. 

“Thank you Nellie,” I smiled. “I’m not even sure where we’ll be going. Should I be nervous?” 

Nellie’s clear blue eyes twinkled slightly, “No, it seems like everything’s been going well for you so far.” 

“Thank you for the shawl. Off to a new adventure,” I said. 

“That’s right,” Nellie replied. “Embrace life.” 

I smiled, “And have a good evening.” 

“Thanks. You too, sweetie,” Nellie answered. 

I opened the front door and walked down the steps and onto the sidewalk. I watched my step and listened to the click-click of my Oxford shoes on the cement. As I walked closer to the car, I could feel a strange energy surround me for just a second. 

I looked up and smiled at the car. The passenger door popped open slightly. I caught the door handle and opened the door enough for me to slip into the car. Art had moved back to the driver’s side of the car, “Good evening.” 

“Thank you. Good evening to you,” I replied. “Am I appropriately dressed for tonight’s adventure?” 

“Yes,” Art smiled. “Perfect.” 

Since I’m not familiar with town, I didn’t recognize where we were going. However, it didn’t seem to take long to get to an area of town where a few bars and restaurants were open late. 

He parked the car, and we went into a small building with a brick façade. We went into the bar, and sat on bar stools. The bartender asked us what we wanted. I ordered an iced tea and Art ordered a ginger ale. 

One of the waitresses came in from the back room; she was tall, and as I looked more carefully, I realized she was a man dressed and made up like a woman. As she was waiting for the bartender to make up her orders, I asked her, “Your fingernails are beautiful. How did you get your nails done so precisely? I don’t have the patience to get the polish that smooth.” 

Art didn’t say anything, but I could see in my periphery that he looked momentarily surprised by my question. The waitress smiled, “Thank you. I have a few drinks to deliver, but in a bit I can show you a couple of makeup tricks.” 

“I could use the help,” I replied, smiling. “As you can see, I generally look like a ghost when I’m done putting on makeup.” 

After she left, Art looked at me carefully, “For a Benson, you’re full of surprises.” 

“And why’s that?” I asked. "Life’s a continuous gift as long as you keep an open mind.” 

“I know,” Art said. “But not everyone sees that.” 

“That’s true. They can miss a lot,” I answered. 

The waitress came back, took my arm, and told Art, “I’m temporarily borrowing your date.” 

Art grinned and tipped his hat, “No problem.” 

While Leora was gone, Art surveyed the place. It was a small room, with dark wood paneling. Drawings and small paintings dotted the walls. The bar was busy with only a few people standing and talking, but several waitresses with drink orders were coming in and out of the second room. 

“So what’s in the other room?” Art asked the bartender. 

The bartender smiled, “When your date comes back, you can go in and find out.” 

Judy led me to a small dressing room that the waitresses and other staff shared. I held out my hand, “By the way, my name’s Leora.” 

“Nice to meet you, Leora. I’m Judy,” the waitress said while shaking my hand. Judy and I sat down in chairs at a makeup table. Judy opened a drawer, and pulled out a kit with blush, eye makeup and lipstick. She also selected nail polishes, which were setting in the corner of the table. 

“We’ll do your nails first. Which color do you like?” Judy asked. 

“I like the mauve tones,” I answered. Judy and I talked while she worked on my fingernails, starting with my right hand. “What type of work do you do?” 

“I’m a secretary,” I replied. “The nail polish will probably get chipped up from typing tomorrow.” 

“We’ll apply a second coat and see if that will delay the chipping,” Judy suggested. Judy had me set my left hand on the table, so she could apply a first coat. 

I smiled and asked, “How long have you worked here?” 

“Not long,” Judy said. “I moved here from New York a few months ago, because I heard there are jobs here.” 

“That’s why I’m here temporarily,” I replied. “Thought I’d work in an office a short while and then go back home to the Midwest.” 

“So what’s your story with that sharp-dressed New Yorker you’re with,” Judy inquired with a smile. I smiled back, 

“Sorry to disappoint; not much of a story. He’s one of my bosses and he wanted to check out this place, and he thought I should tag along.” 

Judy looked thoughtful as she blew air onto my fingernails to dry the first coat. The polish changed from dark to light to shiny as they dried. 

“From what I’ve observed, people come to either find someone or to get to KNOW someone,” Judy stated. 

“Not to presume, but do some folks come to gawk out of curiosity?” I asked. “I mean, some people don’t see that we are all the same, so they think they are seeing something different.” 

“Oh, there are a few like that, but they don’t stay long. They get nervous,” Judy replied, with a wink and a smile. 

I giggled and smiled back, “I bet they do.” I looked down at my fingernails; with the second coat, they were perfect. 

Judy opened the makeup kit, and found blush for me. “Take off your glasses, Sweetie,” Judy said. I took off my glasses and set them on the table. Judy applied blush, lip and eye color while we talked. 

 “You know, if you get the chance tonight, you should kiss him,” Judy stated. 

I blushed slightly, “He’s been very kind ever since I started there. But that could get awkward with my other bosses. 

Judy asked, “Do they know you two are out tonight?” 

“Well, no,” I said. “I’m not saying anything. It would make one boss think I should go out with him and the third could feel jealous.” 

Judy asked, “Oh, you have three bosses? And are they in the picture business?” 

I smiled, “Sorry, I wouldn’t feel right answering that.” 

Judy replied, “Oh Sweetie, everything is private here. Otherwise, people wouldn’t come back.” 

“Well,” I stated, “You may have seen them in the movies.” 

“Sounds fair,” Judy said with a smile. “I’ve always heard the quiet one’s a real sweetie.” 

I had tried to watch Judy apply the makeup on me, but I got distracted by the conversation. 

Judy said, “There. What do you think?” 

I looked at myself in the mirror. I felt in awe; even though I’ve tried many times, I could never quite get it right. “Thank you Judy. I’ve never looked this put together before,” I said. 

“Glad you like it,” Judy said. “My dream is to get a job doing makeup.” 

I thought a moment, “Have you tried at the studios? Or is it hard to get a job there?” 

“I haven’t asked yet. Maybe with a bit more practice…” Judy said. 

“You have real talent,” I smiled. “After all, look at the magic you did with me.” I put my glasses back on. “Thank you. And trust your gifts.” I gave Judy a quick hug. 

“Now it’s time for you to take that handsome man dancing in the back room,” Judy suggested. 

We walked back out into the bar, where Art was waiting. Art smiled at Leora and teased Judy, “Where’d my date go? Did she sneak out the back?” 

I nudged his left arm playfully. “If I didn’t get scared off from Henry last week, what makes you think I’d run off tonight?” 

 It seemed like Art couldn’t quit looking at me. Meanwhile,Judy motioned to the other room, “Now you two go back there, enjoy the music and dance.” 

“I don’t remember how to dance. Can you show me?” I asked. 

Art asked, “How can you not remember?” 

“Too many years of not dancing,” I replied. 

“We need to correct that,” Art stated, taking my right elbow with his left hand and leading me down the small, dark hallway. 

I opened the door and the room was mostly dark, except for a small candle on each table and a lone spotlight on the small stage. The three piece jazz band was playing a fast song as we carefully walked into the room. Our eyes began to adjust and we noticed the doorman nodding to Art and pointing to an unoccupied table for us to sit down at. 

We quietly moved through the small room and sat down at the table. I slipped my shawl onto the back of the chair, while Art set his hat on the table. 

“The beat is too fast for me, at least to start out with,” I said. 

“The only way to learn is to start now,” Art replied and took my hand. 

We took a few steps to the small dance floor, and I followed his lead, taking a step or two with the music. He swung me around in a circle, and spun me back. Surprisingly, I kept on my feet during the dance, and we applauded when the band finished the song. 

As the band started a slower song, a female impersonator walked onto the stage. The singer sang a torch song about missing her man. Many more couples came onto the dance floor for the slow song. 

Art moved closer and gently put his right hand on my waist. With his left hand, he took my right hand; in his grasp, our fingers became entangled. I placed my left arm across his shoulder and my hand rested lightly on the back of his neck. 

We danced close, but our bodies were not quite touching. As the music infused the crowd, it was easy to sense love lost and unresolved longing from many. The fingers of my left hand began to trace soft circles on the back of his neck in time to the music. 

Usually I would watch the crowd, but I felt transfixed by Art’s eyes. I felt surprised by a sense of recognition within the deep recesses of my soul. Getting lost within his gaze, I felt something more, another stirring, more primal, more physical. 

As the band kept playing slow, sensual numbers, we kept dancing. My body felt so aware and awakened by each minute change in pressure from his fingertips on my waist and his hand squeezing mine. My body felt washed with longing and desire; I blocked other people’s emotions and realized I was feeling my own long repressed want. It had been so long since I had felt attracted to anyone. I was uncertain what I was feeling, until it hit me like a ton of bricks. 

As soon as a faster song started, we both stopped dancing. Art didn’t say a word; he kept hold of my hand. We went to the table and he picked up his hat, while I grabbed my shawl from the chair. He led me out of the club and we walked to his parked car. 

We were standing by the passenger door, and as he was reaching over to open the door for me, I kissed him, just one gentle kiss on the lips. He looked at me with such human hunger. I realized the music must have affected him too. 

I draped my arms around his neck and kissed him again, and stepped back. He stepped forward and took my face in his hands and kissed me back. We got as lost in the kisses as we had in the dancing. 

Time seemed to stand still as he leaned me against the side of the car while we kissed. My arms slipped around his neck; my body quaked against his. Every nerve ending in my body felt awakened and my fingers worked through his hair. 

After 15 minutes or so, Art pulled back and looked at me. I’m sure he could see the pure want in my eyes, since he whispered, “I should take you somewhere. But where?” 

He opened the passenger door. I crawled into the car, and opened the driver’s door from the inside. I leaned my stomach on the back of the car seat, looking out the back window. I felt keyed up from our kissing and wasn’t ready to sit down yet. 

Art slipped into the driver’s seat beside me. My eyes shined down at him with pure, innocent lust. He wrapped his arm around my waist and sat me down on his lap for a minute. His left thumb slowly caressed my cheek and jaw line. I softly sighed. 

 He whispered in my ear, “If I kiss you anymore, I won’t be able to drive home.” My body trembled slightly with his statement and with my lustful thoughts. 

I slid off of his lap, “The music and atmosphere must have influenced us too much.” 

 I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. It felt like he did the same. When I opened my eyes, I smiled at him. “Thank you for taking me here this evening. I should go home.” 

He looked at me carefully, “Are you sure?”

 “Yes, it’s a work day tomorrow,” I stated. “Besides, don’t you have to rest for all the things you need to do tomorrow?” 

“You mean golf and a card game?” Art asked. 

He drove me back to the boarding house, and I thanked him again for taking me to the night club. Before I hopped out of the car, he held my left hand briefly. My eyes flashed another lustful look at him, and then I slipped out of his grasp without looking back. I knew if I looked back I’d be too tempted to slip back into his car and too soon into his bed.

Tuesday, March 11, 2014

Cracked Ice - Part 10

“CRACKED ICE” by Leora Tozer © 2014 - Part 10 

The morning went by quickly. I typed quite a few answers for Leo’s letters. He briefly checked them over and signed them. I was able to get a lot done before the mail went out mid-morning. 

After a brief lunch outside with my book, I felt newly focused and energized. I was able to start on a few templates, which I planned on sharing with them for additions and approvals. As I was typing the second template, Henry popped his head out of his office and asked with a grin, “So, you’re answering those without me?” 

“I thought I’d quote your movie lines to create the answers,” I teased back, smiling at him. “When you have time, I can show you what I have done so far and how it would work,” I continued. 

He looked around the office and asked, “So where are my lazy brothers?” 

“I don’t know where your lazy brothers are,” I answered, “but Art and Leo were in for at least an hour, and now are gone for lunch. Don’t you need lunch?” 

“I had lunch. Come in with those letters.” Henry directed. 

I brought in the templates, a couple of fan letters, a notebook, and pen with hope my plan would work for this project. 

I entered the office. Henry shut the door and went to sit down at his desk. I sat on the chair across the desk from him. He moved the notebook and pen he had in front of him into the right desk drawer. 

He read the first letter template and then I showed him the letter and where I would need a few answers. 

He looked at me and stated, “This isn’t working at all.” 

I wasn’t surprised that he might not approve, but was shocked that he did so quickly. I answered, “I know it won’t work for all letters, but if it would help with even 20%...” 

“No, that’s not what I meant,” he said. 

“What’s not working?” I asked, slightly confused. 

“This seating arrangement,” he responded in a flirtatious way. “It’s difficult to work on this when you’re all the way over there.” 

“I can move the chair,” I said, standing up. 

He reached out and lightly held my hand. 

“Don’t you realize when a man is trying to get closer to you.” 

“But men don’t make passes at a girl wearing glasses,” I retorted. 

He asked, “What if it’s a boy in glasses?” 

He held my hand with a gentle, but steady grip; I looked at him from across the desk. There was a definite look I hadn’t seen him give me before. I felt a slight butterfly tremor flow through me. I took a small breath in and asked, “So, where should I sit?” 

"Where do you think?” he asked softly. 

We couldn’t seem to break our eye contact. It’s nature; the chemical interaction between a man and a woman attracted to each other. Ever since the kiss yesterday, I wanted to find some reason to touch him. My body swayed slightly at the thought of sitting on his lap. 

I moved around the desk while he kept claim of my hand. When I sat on his lap, he let go of my hand. My head was turned so my right ear was near his mouth. I could barely breathe; he whispered, “Now you’re right where you belong.” 

I gave a small nod in agreement. As I sat there, I felt an odd sense of relief; relief that I wasn’t ignoring my own feelings. A whole new emotion flooded my senses into overdrive. The sexual energy could have lit the whole room, even though no words were being exchanged. 

“So, you wanted to show me the letters?” Henry asked. 

I picked up the first template and a couple of letters. I read it out loud while he slowly caressed my back. 

“You seem tense. I should find a way to relax you,” he teased. 

Feeling his breath on my neck was sending waves of longing through my whole body. As his fingertips explored my neck, stomach and sides of my waist through my dress, I felt myself ache with a deep desire I hadn’t experienced in a long time. 

After reading a letter, I leaned back onto his shoulder. 

“Whatcha thinking about, honey?” Henry asked. 

I smiled and leaned in to softly kiss his neck, as I caressed his chest through his white cotton shirt. 

I felt jangled up, and knew I needed to leave the office soon. I intuitively knew he was a man who felt he should be in control. However, my attraction was stronger than I realized. I knew I had to control myself from going further. If a woman was too forward, I felt certain it would be an automatic turn-off for him. 

I was vibrating like a tuning fork and trying to decide how I could get up and leave. Fortunately, I heard Leo and Art’s voices when they entered the outer office. I could hear Art say, “I’ll need to ask Henry about that.” 

I quickly stood up, grabbed the letters from the desk, and took two steps from the desk. Art opened Henry’s office door. 

“Didn’t you learn how knock?” Henry grumbled to his brother. 

Art replied with a smile, “Knocking’s only needed for bathrooms and bedrooms.” 

“I was just leaving. Thank you for going over these letters with me,” I stated. I walked out of the office and closed the door behind me. 

I sat the letters on the desk and walked down the hall to the bathroom. I splashed cool water on my face to try to calm my reeling mind. After drying my face, I realized I needed to go outside for fresh air and a short walk. 

I can’t believe myself. I’ve never ever done something like this while at work. 

I’m walking outside lost in thought, and suddenly felt my soul being hugged by another soul. I had already walked around the building at least three or four times when someone tapped my elbow. “Hey, you alright?” Art asked kindly. 

“Oh, I’m fine,” I answered. He started walking next to me. 

“Most fine folks don’t walk laps around buildings.” “I just needed some fresh air to think,” I replied. 

He nodded, “Henry can cause most people to run for the hills from time to time. But, overall, he’s good.” 

“I wasn’t upset by anything he said. He seems so serious at times,” I replied in a concerned way. 

“He worries,” Art stated, “so the rest of us don’t have to. He’d worry even if we did.” 

I nodded, “Some folks feel like they have to carry the weight of the world on their shoulders.” 

We stopped walking. Art looked around quickly to see if anyone else was outside. When he saw no one around, he commented, “Those are the people who should enjoy life when they can. Henry has no peace at home.” 

“It’s strange how right and wrong seemed so clear cut when I was young. Why is that?” I asked. 

Art smiled, “We all knew so much less as kids. What’s right for most? Things unknown don’t necessarily cause troubles.” 

I touched his arm and smiled, “Thank you for your wisdom.” He smiled back and whispered, “Don’t forget, 10pm.” 

I didn’t realize where we had stopped to talk. Henry had watched through his office window while Art and I had this confidential talk. Henry could only see the body language, of me touching Art’s arm, not realizing that it was in the spirit of friendship.




To be continued...

Saturday, February 15, 2014

Cracked Ice ~ Part 9.75

"CRACKED ICE” by Leora Tozer © 2013 - Part 9.75 

Ten in the evening and I should be heading for bed. I slip on my coat and shoes. I still felt a bit jangled up from the office, so I decided it’s time for a walk. 

I slipped out the front door and closed it carefully behind me. I walked down the sidewalk, listening to my heels clipping on the cement. The sky was clear, with the moon shining brightly on the sidewalk. 

I walked fast and was several blocks from the boarding house. I wasn’t looking out at the street, just focused on the sidewalk ahead and my thoughts. 

The sky opened up and rain poured down. The air was warm enough, so it didn’t feel cold at first. I felt stress ease from my shoulders as the rain drops fell on me. 

The rain got heavier and I realized I wasn’t sure how far from the house I was. I needed to turn around. My shirt and skirt were starting to feel heavy from the water soaking into them. I turned around and saw a two-toned 1931 Caddy Roadster slowly driving next to me. 

It stopped and the passenger window opened up a crack. 

“Benson, hop in.”

I opened the car door and slid in. “You realize your car’s going to get soaking wet from me.” I felt a bit self-conscious. Certainly Art noticed the soaked cotton shirt clinging to me. 

As I shut the door, Art handed me a beach towel and smiled, “That’s a chance I’m willing to take.” 

“Why do you have a towel in your car?” 

Art turned the car around and answered, “I’m always ready, in case I want to go for a swim.” 

I looked puzzled, “What about a bathing suit?” 

Art smiled, “We always have bathing suits under our clothes, don’t we?” 

As we talked, I noticed he drove past the boarding house. “Hey, aren’t you going to take me home?” 

“If you’re out walking in the rain at 10:30 at night, you don’t want to go home,” Art answered. 

“Not necessarily. Perhaps the walk and the rain helped me enough so I could get some sleep,” I said. 

My slightly nervous hands gave me away. “Do you want to go home?” Art asked. 

I looked at him, studying his profile as he drove, “No, I don’t.” 

“So, where to?” 

“If you want, we could drive around and talk. I should go home after a bit.” Yes, I felt a certain kinship to Art and definitely find him attractive. Yet, I was too keyed up after giving Henry a massage, and thought it best to be by myself tonight. 

Art thought a moment, “How about if we drive around and talk tonight? And if you promise me something.” 

“Depends upon what you want me to promise,” I replied. 

“Will you go with me to explore a new nightclub tomorrow night?” Art asked. 

“I don’t see anything wrong that,” I replied, “As long as we can keep that between us.” I thought Leo would be bugging me much more if he heard that Art took me out. 

“No problem,” Art said. The particular club that he wanted to check out wasn’t the type of place he would mention to his brothers anyways. 

As we drove around town and chatted the rain stopped. Fortunately, my mind was distracted and I felt relaxed. 

“Do you want to get a Mile High?” Art asked. 

“Wait…a what?” I responded. 

“Oh, you’ll see; we’re almost there,” Art answered. 

A few blocks later, he pulled the car to a lighted ice cream stand with a large “Mile High” cone. The place seemed very busy for such a late hour. We each ordered an ice cream cone and spent time eating our ice cream and people watching from his car. 

We didn’t really talk much; it seemed we were both listening to the chatter of other people’s conversations. Sometimes when hearing other people’s snippets of conversation, I can imagine what their back-story is, or what happens after the conversation. 

Art leaned back into his seat and watched the people milling around the ice cream stand. This wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. He realized he’s been hanging around too much with actresses and chorus girls, who tend to chatter to fill up the silence. 

He shifted in his seat and watched Leora lick her ice cream cone. She seemed lost in thought, watching the people and listening to the activity around the car. He touched her shoulder, “How’s the ice cream?” 

“It’s delectable,” Leora stated. She couldn’t remember ice cream ever tasting this fresh. Her lips were starting to feel numb from the cold ice cream. 

“So, time to take you home?” Art said. Leora nodded yes. 

Due to the night air and eating so much ice cream, Leora started shivering slightly. Art backed out of the parking space and turned out into the road. He noticed her shivering and draped his right arm around her shoulders. 

Leora felt warm from this small gesture. She occasionally glanced at him while he drove her home. He pulled up to the boarding house. She reached for the door and he said, “Wait.” 

“Yes?” Leora asked. 

“One small hug to warm you up,” Art said. 

“Of course,” Leora replied. His arms wrapped around her shoulders so quickly, and she hugged him back. She quietly said, “Thank you for the outing and the ice cream.” 

“Don’t forget, tomorrow we’ll explore another night spot,” Art smiled. Leora smiled back and slipped out of the car. 

She walked down the sidewalk to the house, turned around mid-way and waved to Art. He waved back, then drove away.

Wednesday, December 11, 2013

Cracked Ice - Part 9.5

“CRACKED ICE” by Leora Tozer © 2013 Part 9.5 {Week 2, Tuesday afternoon}

I felt as though a lot of work was completed this morning. Art and Leo left for lunch and for their usual afternoon pursuits. I ate a sandwich at my desk and went back to work. 

After having lunch at home, Henry was agitated. He appeared stressed out when he quickly breezed by my desk. 

After a couple of minutes, I walked over and softly knocked on his office door. “Do you want a cup of tea?” I asked. 

“No, thanks for asking,” Henry answered, looking a bit surprised. 

“Is there anything I can do to help?” I said. 

“Can you turn back time?” he asked. 

“Did you try turning your watch hands backwards? Or does your watch need winding?” I replied. 

“No, but maybe you need winding,” he remarked. 

“No, not today. Can we put that on the schedule for next Tuesday?” I joked. He still seemed out of sorts to me. “I know something that might help you,” I said. I went to my desk and found the Jergen’s lotion. 

I walked back into Henry’s office and closed the door. 

Henry had about 50 different scenes in his mind when he saw Leora enter the office with the hand lotion. He decided to wait and see what would happen. 

“Would you mind if I tried a de-stressing technique on you?” I asked. “I haven’t been trained in this, but a friend of mine had taken some classes and she used to practice on me.” 

Henry’s eyes lit up, “That would have been entertaining to see.” 

“Not the type of fun you’re imagining,” I shook my head with a slight smile. “I’ll be rubbing lotion on your shoulders. Do you want to take off your shirt?” I asked. 

“Maybe I should lock the door,” Henry said. 

“It’s not necessary,” I replied. 

“If I pull the shades, I’ll take off anything you ask,” Henry gave me a friendly leer. 

“I promise, I won’t ask you to take off anything else,” I stated. 

“A boy can dream, can’t he?” Henry asked. 

“Dream all you like. You’re lucky you’re getting a shoulder massage,” I replied. 

“Yeah, Leo was complaining. But you’re right, he’s never stressed,” Henry smiled. It was refreshing to see a dame not fall for Leo’s usual tricks. 

When Henry took off his jacket and shirt, he noticed me diverting my eyes. He started teasing me, “Now, don’t look.” 

I laughed. “Where would it be most comfortable for you to sit?” I asked. 

“Your lap,” he replied. 

“If you’re going to be difficult, I’ll just go home,” I retorted. 

As I feigned turning around, he grabbed my hand. “I think you like it.”

“Perhaps. But, I’m not used to it,” I admitted. I could get jangled up too easily around him. I made a conscious decision to be a healing source of comfort today. 

He sat down in his office chair. “I’m ready. Just don’t hurt me.” 

“I’m not here to hurt anyone,” I replied. 

Henry closed his eyes. I had a small bit of lotion on my fingertips. I pressed gently and massaged his forehead by starting in the middle of his forehead and moving my index fingers towards his temples. His eyes flickered open and looked at me with a studied wariness, as if he was not used to random acts of kindness from a woman. 

“I can stop if it hurts or you have discomfort. Just let me know,” I calmly stated. Reassured, Henry closed his eyes again. 

I applied lotion to his shoulder, starting with a gentle pressure, and gradually increased it. At first, Henry seemed guarded, but as I worked on his shoulders, I could feel the built-up stress melting away. 

Even though I was being as professional as possible, I felt such an electric energy build up between us. “Would it be more comfortable if you lie down on the couch?” I asked after a bit. 

His eyes opened and he looked at me with a quiet purpose. I knew what he was thinking of; his eyes gave it away. I looked at him carefully, my eyes attempting to hide my attraction to him. 

“Will you be my blanket?” he teased. 

I asked back, “Do I qualify as a comforter?” After a moment, I clarified, “You might be more comfortable lying on your stomach when I massage your lower back.” 

Henry stood up, and as he passed his office door, he stealthily locked it. I was preoccupied with getting the lotion and a small towel moved over to the small table near the couch. 

He lay down on the couch and looked up at me, “OK, do whatever you like with me. Just don’t tie me up in knots.” 

“You already have knots. I’m here to untie them.” I replied. 

I poured lotion on my hands and spread it on his back. I started on his shoulders again and finished working the stress out of his shoulders. As I moved down his back, I was able to release the stress from his back. When I finished, I carefully removed the excess lotion from his back with the small towel. 

I put my hand on his shoulder and said softly, “You can sit up if you like.” 

Henry raised himself up and sat on the couch. He seemed a bit reserved as he watched me grab the lotion bottle and take a step towards him. I sat down on the couch next to him. 

“There’s something else I’d like to try,” I said. 

I covered my left hand with lotion, and took hold of Henry’s right hand. Starting with his pinkie, I worked on each finger, surrounding it, and pulling it slightly to work out the stress. Henry just watched me as I concentrated on his hand. As I was wrapping my hand around his index finger, Henry slipped his hand from my grip. 

His hands touched my face, and raised it up, so I was looking directly into his eyes. He moved his face close; I moved closer to him, as his lips gently, tentatively touched mine. He held my chin and kissed me, first softly, then deeper. My lips responded in kind. It felt like we’ve kissed before, perhaps in a long ago dream. 

Before the kissing became too intense, Henry stopped and let go of my face. I felt flushed and excited as we both looked at each other a few moments. I stood up from the couch and walked to the door. I wanted to kiss him again, but I didn’t tell him. I unlocked the door, slipped out of the office, and walked down the hall, into the bathroom. 

I turned on the tap and splashed cool water on my face. I dried my face and stood straight up. As I became more aware of my body, I could feel a strange invisible pulling in my stomach. I closed my eyes a moment to meditate and attempt to figure out what this odd sensation could mean. 

After a few deep breaths, I knew I would need to sort my feelings out later away from the office. I went back to my desk, and sat in my chair. Still feeling jangled up, I found my next typing project and started typing. 

Henry’s door was closed. I didn’t know if I’d see him the rest of the day; it seemed so still. I typed two letters and after an hour, decided I was too distracted and should leave a bit early. I put away my stuff and walked to my Yellow Car stop, knowing I’d have a lot to mull over at home tonight.

Tuesday, December 10, 2013

Cracked Ice - Part 9

“CRACKED ICE” by Leora Tozer © 2013 Part 9 {Week 2, Tuesday morning}

Art arrived to the office mid-morning and he seemed very more subdued than usual. I sensed something was wrong without even looking at him, so I went to his office to check in with him.

When I asked, Art told me that his shoulder felt a bit sore, that he’d strained it practicing a new bit. I told him I’d be right back.

I grabbed a bottle of Jergen’s hand lotion from my desk drawer and came back into his office. I said, “I’m not a trained masseuse, but my friend who took massage classes used to practice on me. Can I try a couple of massage techniques on your shoulder?”

“It wouldn’t hurt to try,” Art replied.

“If it does hurt, I’ll stop,” I informed him.

I poured some lotion on my hands and rubbed them together. Then I slid my hand under his shirt and rubbed the lotion on his left shoulder, first with a gentle pressure.

“Wait,” he said. I stopped. Art slipped off his shirt. “OK, you can continue,” he said, smiling.

I continued by increasing the pressure, and I could feel his shoulder relax. I repeated the process with his right shoulder and then did some gentle circular motions on his vertebrae up and down his neck and upper back. I could feel the room light up with a bright spiritual energy. I felt as sense of peace through this new energy force.

Art touched my hand and stopped the massage. He smiled, “Thank you. This really helped.”

“Can I try one more thing that might help your shoulders?” I asked.

“Sure,” he said.

I sat in a chair facing him and put more lotion in my hand. “Please give me your right hand.” I said.

He gives me his hand, as if he was bashful, and looked up smiling, his eyelashes fluttering at me. I surrounded each finger with my lotioned hand, slightly pulling at each finger. Art started making faces at me, as if I were hurting him.

“Do you want me to stop?” I asked.

“No,” he said, shaking his head.

“A massage teacher told me that by doing this, it will help a person’s neck and shoulders, since everything is connected,” I explained.

I finished massaging his right hand, and asked for his left hand. I applied some lotion and did the same as I had for the right hand, starting with his pinkie. As was working on his left hand, Leo came into Art’s office.

“Hey, I’m stressed too,” Leo said.

I stood up and said, “Turn around.” I felt his neck. “No, no stress here.”

Leo turned around and looked at me. “I can think of some things that need massaging in my office,” Leo said.

“Well, I can loan you my lotion. Just close the door,” I replied. Leo couldn’t figure this chick out. Most women succumbed to his advances very easily. This one seemed impervious to his charms. Easy come, easy go, Leo thought.

“Nah, that’s alright,” Leo remarked. Art laughed as Leo left his office.

I finished massaging Art’s left hand. “Are you alright now?” I asked Art.

“Yes,” Art answered, as he was putting his shirt back on. “You’d be handy to keep around here, especially when we’re filming.”

“That’s kind of you to say,” I replied. I went back to my desk and put the lotion back into the drawer.

I spent the rest of the morning drafting letters and returning phone calls Everyone else seemed busy as well.

Sunday, November 17, 2013

“Cracked Ice” - Part 8.5

“CRACKED ICE” by Leora Tozer © 2013 Part 8.5 {Week 2, Monday evening}

I kept busy with the letters and didn’t try to think about the meeting tonight. As I was putting things away for the day, I wondered who we’d meet and which restaurant we’re going to. Henry said a note taker was needed for the business dinner with a writer, since the movie studio was in a hurry for the brothers to make their next movie. I made sure to have a couple of pens and a notepad in my satchel.

It was after 6:30pm when he parked his car on Vine Street. We walked by a gift shop* next to the Brown Derby. I stood on my tip-toes and tried to peek in the window, but couldn’t see much since it was closed for the evening.

“Are you planning on breaking in after dinner?” Henry asked.

“No. Have you ever thought about owning a store?” I asked him.

“Not really,” He smiled. “I like performing too much. Why? What type of store do you see me owning?”

I thought a moment as we walked, “A bookstore. You could write and talk with authors.”

“And what would you be doing?” he teased.

“You mean after the bookkeeping’s done? I’d be in the back typing out the next great American novel,” I replied.

“Do you think anyone would read it?” Henry inquired.

“Who knows? I just want to write. To have something completed would be fulfilling enough for me.” I answered. “Of course, if a few people find enjoyment with it, that’s a bonus.”

We walked into the Brown Derby. While we were waiting to secure our table, I excused myself to freshen up in the bathroom. When I washed my hands in the bathroom, I saw Carole Lombard walking in. I tried not to stare; I didn’t want to appear star-struck by anyone.

I applied some lipstick, quickly dried my hands, and walked out of the bathroom. Henry and I went to the 2nd level to sit in one of the booths. After we settled in and I was looking at the menu, the maître d came and brought a message to Henry.

Henry looked at the paper and stuck it in his jacket pocket. “Looks like its just dinner for the two of us. The writer canceled,” Henry said.

“Well, we don’t have to stay if the writer not coming. I’m sure you have better things to do than have dinner with me,” I replied.

“Maybe I’ll have better things to do after having dinner with you,” Henry replied with a wink.

I quickly retreated to my menu to gather my thoughts. Was there a writer or is that just a story? Did he plan this little excursion just to take me out? And why did Art know about it? I had to stay to find out what’s going on. Besides, I was happy for the chance to get to know Henry better away from the office.

“So many choices. What are you having?” I asked.

“Wouldn’t you like to know? Wait and see,” he replied.

The waiter came in a few minutes to take our order.

Henry looked at me and stated, “I suppose you're going to tell him who I am.”

I looked at the waiter with big eyes and stated, “This is Mr. Henry J. Jones. I’m Ms. Smith, his assistant. We really appreciate being able to eat here tonight with so many important folks.”

Henry looked surprised, as if he wasn’t expecting this type of introduction. The waiter smiled and asked, “What would you like to order?” I ordered Chicken broth with homemade noodles with a small salad and Henry ordered a Derby Deluxe.

We talked while waiting for our food. He told me about all of the years he had to be on the road with his brothers and how he likes to be here in Hollywood, because he can go home every night. Of course, he doesn’t plan on settling here, because New York is home.

I told him how I only planned to be here a short while. {Fortunately, the Time Travel Agency had me prepare and practice my back story. I was surprised how easily I could tell it.}

I was working temporarily in Hollywood to send money back home to my kids in the Midwest. I had been divorced 5 years, and but had lost my job when my employer’s business closed.

“That would be hard to be away from the kids,” Henry sympathized.

“It is, but I know they are in good hands. Their grandparents are with them every day. I’m really fortunate they are there to help,” I said.

“So, your parents?” Henry asked.

I shook my head, “No, my ex-husband’s parents. They are good folks.”

The waiter came and brought our food, and I welcomed a break in the conversation. I didn’t mean for the conversation to get so serious.

I tasted the soup; it was homemade and had incredible flavor. Most food back home is over processed, salty and not fresh. I’d forgotten how food should properly taste.

Henry thought about what she said as he watched Leora with his peripheral vision. He didn’t know many people who liked their in-laws, much less their ex-in-laws. Something is very different about her. He wasn’t used to women who liked to read, or who didn’t seem impressed by the Hollywood glitz. He’d have to wait and see how the next few days would go at the office; ‘most likely,’ he thought, ‘I’ll write her off like the rest of her kind.’ After we finished our dinner and he paid the bill, we were walking out of the Derby.

Henry asked, “Do you want to go to Field’s house for a drink?”

“Oh, I don’t drink alcohol,” I replied.

“Don’t you have any bad habits at all?” he asked.

“You mean, besides slurping my soup?” I responded.

“The quietest slurper in the west,” he answered.

“Tell me one bad habit.”

“How about two? Snoring and chocolate,” I replied.

“Those don’t count. Come on,” he insisted.

"Maybe when you know me better, you’ll tell me,” I said. After all, I knew his reputation of putting people in their place. His wit on and off screen, was legendary.

“OK then, I’ll drive you home,” he offered.

“Thanks for offering, but no. I like riding the street car home. It’s fun to people watch,” I answered. I thanked him for dinner and said I’d see him in the office tomorrow.

While Henry drove home, he partly wished he was driving Leora to his home. However, he knew it wasn’t the right time. He wanted to make sure, both of himself and of her. Besides, every time he teases her, he feels charged up. This was a new experience, having his mind attracted to a woman just as much as his body is.



     *There was a Cantor Gift Shop next to Brown Derby, but uncertain if it was there in 1932.