April 12th, 2017

Continuation of HouseCapades!

Good Evening everyone ~ tonight you will find the continuation of my Romantic Short Story entitled, "HouseCapades" by René Allen from the Anthology TWISTED SHORTIES II - A.F. Stewart, Editor, and Pam Brittain, Chief Compiler.

If you have been following along, the Short Story is continuing for the 5th Installation.  You can view HouseCapades from the beginning here on the Blog by viewing the four previous posts.

Your comments & thoughts are always welcomed here on the Blog!

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Twisted Shorties II

HouseCapades

By René Allen

VINETTE ONE ~ Unaccustomed Business

[ BLOG - continuation of Story ] . . .

*Red type denotes last paragraph where we left off . . .

As soon as Sheila stepped out of the elevator, she focused immediately on the handsome man standing in the foyer.  As she started walking toward him, she realized that he was looking at her deeply, and he had a stance and look as if he were studying her.  As she focused on his handsome face, Sheila realized that his expression was one of awe of what he was looking at. Was she that stunning to him?  She wondered.

”My God, this is my wife,” Quinton thought to himself. He could not stop staring at Sheila's beauty. He was speechless. There was a little voice inside of him that kept saying to him, “She is the one. She is the one.”

“Well, hello there, handsome.” Sheila said to him as she glided right into his arms.  Quinton embraced her with the kind of warmness and love that was her just due, but which only Quinton could provide to her.

As if a whirl-wind had taken them up, Sheila and Quinton held each other in a deep, long, and loving inter-twined kiss that involved all of their senses. Passion rising in both of them instantly, as Quinton embraced Sheila, and she melted into him.

They could not speak. Instead, they just looked at each other deeply, intently, and with an unwritten love-story screaming from within them both. They took each other's hand, and quietly, they headed toward the elevator, with Quinton handling his Crocodile luggage with excitement brewing.

Once inside the elevator, Quinton put his luggage down, and took Sheila into his arms – kissing her, embracing her. He could not stop his feelings from overtaking him. If he could take this moment, capture it, bottle it, and pull it back out at will, he would.

Still, they could not speak. Instead, they held each other and looked at each other with an eye-snap that could not be explained even if they tried. It was as if the world had stopped right then, and they were caught up.

Then, there was the sound of a “bing,” which indicated that the elevator was waiting on them to get out of it.

Quinton snapped back to the moment at hand, “Oh, I guess I forget to say 'Hi,' ” Quinton told Sheila, smiling like a billion dollar dessert tray.

Oh, how he took her breath away!  Sheila blushed.  Quinton was so sexy to her.

Quinton was strengthened by Sheila's touch.  He had been pursued by many women, but none of them did anything for him – they did not capture his interest; they did not make him want to know anything more about them; and they did not excite him in the least. Therefore, in years past, he had resigned himself to only an occasional dinner date with faceless and nameless women that were only there for the dinner, the fake smiles, meaningless conversation, and gone thereafter forever.

It wasn't until he had come to 1010 HouseCapade Blvd last year that he discovered that he was still alive inside. He had thought that he had gone dead to women in all capacities – spiritually, physically, mentally, intellectually, and any other way.

He had not had a meaningful relationship in so long that he had forgotten what relationships were all about. And even when he did have a relationship (many moons ago), he did not think that it had been meaningful. He thought he had just been in it for the heck of it –because she (name tossed due to insignificance) wanted him to be.

As they looked into each other's eyes, something was happening within them. They could both feel it, but could not explain it. And neither one of them had yet mentioned anything about what they were feeling inside.

Quinton spoke first, “Baby, what floor are we on?” It dawned on him that neither one of them had pushed any buttons.

Copyright May 2013 by René Allen - All Rights Reserved.

...TO BE CONTINUED...

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See you all back here for more of HouseCapades!

Get your Journals out, because we're going to be learning more about Short Stories at the end of this Romantic Short Story...

Peace, Love & Light,

  René

©Copyright - René Allen - APRIL 2017 - All Rights Reserved