Toned legs strode down the green carpet to the awaiting elevator car. As he caught up with her he looked back to check the closed door of their room and to maybe catch a glimpse of the Civil War soldier who allegedly haunted the hall ways of hotel Dauphine.
With no apparition in sight and a well lit path ahead, her cheeky scoff awaited him at the impatient steel doors who hurriedly tried to close.
She wore a green dress. A coquette number that slung off her left shoulder and framed a gentle triangle off her torso that brought her to the attention every other passerby. In a sea of flesh, her confident and unassuming demeanor served as mistletoe to men ans some women accustomed to blatant shows off careless sex.
As she walked through the uneven streets surrounding Bourbon Street, he watched her body sway. With every step her body bounced and the dress’ fabric struggled to catch up. Her curves bounced glently, swaying on synched rhythm with the waves crashing off the Mississipi river shores.
The full moon’s light bathed the red brick lined streets. On several occasions the roots of aged trees broke though the tries of earlier designers and cast odd shadows that seem to evade her as her commanding strides steamed on through. He watched and followed. He was only an observant, a note taker, a stenographer, a scribe trying to describe a muses’ path in modern New Orleans.
They toured and studied the posted menus on the doors of restaurants. He pondered at her face as she calculated taste from aged menus, gauged the crinkle at her soft German rugged nose when she studied smell, tried to catch the spark in her eye if a prospect taste struck her fancy.
She understood her food. Could imagine its taste and internalized its meaning as art. Certainly her recommendation would yield an experience. Yet, she demanded him to pick. To assert himself in this universe of flavor and create a scene for them to enjoy.
It was in this in this play of admiration that the watcher found them. The figure had recognized their fragrance and had taken a liking. Their smell tasted of deep love and the interplay intrigued the watcher to the point of magnetism.
Following them was necessary.
Slowly it took firm steps behind them. Savoring the wind that flirted with her dress and lifted its hem so as to show her taut thighs. In him, it saw the desire that drove a similar lusty motivation.
As the watcher followed, plans were made and the choice clear. Unfortunately another had already claimed the two and her plans were very different.