by Phil Fragasso
GENRE: Chick-lit, bittersweet romance
Adam Donatello and Nina Morales share an immediate and powerful attraction, and their future together seems assured. But love is difficult enough without adding complications – real or imagined – to the mix. Nina sees life as a thousand shades of gray, while Adam tends towards black-and-white. He wants to move fast; she needs time. Nina sees her past liaisons with women as immaterial to their relationship, while her disclosure drives Adam to a state of irrational jealousy. He doesn’t know how he could compete with a woman; and his suspicions – which Nina views as hypocritical – lead them both to make decisions they may live to regret.
Now don’t get me wrong. The act of making love is incomparably sublime. The sensuous sights, scents, and sighs combine for an otherworldly experience that does far more than just unite the genitals. When done properly, sex is like a symphonic orchestra where each instrument performs in perfect harmony with the other. Where each musician responds to every nuanced direction of the conductor. And where the score builds to a final crescendo so powerful that nothing less than a standing ovation is obligatory.
But it’s afterglow that wins the prize in my book.
Nina’s head was resting on my shoulder. My eyes were closed and I could feel a light tickling from a few stray strands of her hair. I focused on the sound of her breathing and the rise and fall of her chest as she lay against mine. The male and female anatomies were wonderfully designed to interlock like pieces of an ethereal jigsaw puzzle, but I can state unequivocally that Nina’s body and mine were sculpted by the same artist and our union created a singular masterpiece.
“Isn’t this where you ask if it was good for me?” asked Nina.
Nina lifted her head slightly as she spoke and then kissed my chest as she returned to her cuddling position.
“I’m not one to brag,” I said, “but it seemed abundantly clear that it was good for you.”
“Maybe I was faking.”
I smiled as I watched Nina’s head rise and fall. I shrugged my shoulders. “Maybe you were. But what do I care?”
“You do care, and you know it,” said Nina. “All men care. You’re all worried about whether you’re too small, whether you lasted long enough, and whether we’re thinking about or comparing you to other guys. Admit it.”
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Phil Fragasso sold his first article at the age of 16. Since then he has written and published a wide variety of books, articles and essays. After many years as a corporate marketer, he left to pursue endeavors that were more fulfilling personally and more contributory on a societal level. Today he focuses his time on writing and teaching.
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