Author Archives: F Dot Leonora

Rafe settled across from Eliza, it was the first time in a really long time that he felt like they were together.
It was certainly the first time they had gone out in a long time since the accident.
He gazed at her hand wearing the ring he was always proud he had chosen without her. His tastes were far grander than hers. It was not obnoxious of him to say he was the architect of the woman before him, of the woman he was going to marry.
Eliza was more bohemian, and honestly seemed more like someone his sister would date. She recently confessed that she sometimes felt confined by the role of wife to be, so he tried to be more open.
He ran his hand through her hair, absently twisted a strand over and over again as he looked at the hair of the woman at the next table. Her hair was like Severine’s. Severine could be in New York, but she normally told him when she was coming to the city. Or when she was coming underneath him.
His heart still raced when he thought about her. The look on her face when he last saw her on Skype, let him know that he should leave her alone. She was in love with him, and he was not sure what he would be if he continued to contact her.
Eliza looked beautiful in the candlelight, in the dress he had bought her when he was away years ago. The color went well with her hair and eyes. He looked at her hands, and then up at the choker about her neck. There was no doubt that he loved her.
But he could not stop looking at the woman at the other table, her lovely form from behind leaning toward the man she was with. It was wrong, but if it was Severine, he wanted to hurt that man. The rage he felt that the man was sitting with her was irrational, but he felt it.
He felt a lot of things.
Severine, or her look-alike would not turn around for the love of God and he had to be careful with Eliza. She would know if his attention was divided. He reengaged with her, and then he paused. Pretended he was looking for the waiter.
It was Severine, not a look-alike. She noticed him instantly. The look on her face was wildly animalistic. Her walk to the bathroom was steady and self-assured to anyone who was looking, but Rafe knew she was not. He excused himself to go to the bathroom.
The path she took brimmed with her scent of tuberose. The bathroom was was dim, but the frosted glass door revealed which stall she had walked into in the unisex bathroom. Rafe put out his hand to prevent her from closing the door. Severine leaned against the wall, her foot on the toilet seat because there was barely enough room in the stall for the two of them.
“Severine,”
“S’il te plait…” she said, her French rampant when she was vulnerable.
“I knew it was you even from behind.” He cornered her.
“I’m with someone.” She pasted herself to the wall.
“I’m with Eliza,” he said, caressing her face and touching the long dark hair that he had been eyeing with memories. He brought a fistful of it to his nose to take in the scent. “I just wanted to say hi.”
“Touch me.”
Rafe wanted to touch her with every fiber of his being, but he could not have her scent on him. She hitched up her skirt. Closed her eyes,
“I hate myself for wanting you to touch me, but please…please.”
He caressed her face, the smoothness of her cheek, her full red mouth…he needed to touch her other mouth.
She was wet like she always was when he touched her. He caressed just her satiny labia, she almost slipped she was at such a precarious angle.
“Where are you staying?”
Severine dug deep in her clutch, and pulled out a card from the hotel where she was staying.

Eliza gasped.
When she looked up in the mirror and saw Oscar, she gasped.
When Rafe returned, she weakly excused herself to go to the bathroom. In the bathroom mirror, Oscar was behind her.
She was glad it was a unisex bathroom.
“You’re beautiful.”
He’d told her that when she was in the hospital, now when he was telling her it might have been true to him.
“Oscar.”
She wrapped her arms about him, her desire like fire ignited on the side of a matchbox. Restraining herself, she moved back from him.
“I am so happy to see you. I could not wait for tomorrow, but now is like bonus time.”
Oscar smiled at her.
“Yes.”
“Is that the woman you have been seeing in Paris?”
He nodded.
“She’s beautiful.”
“So are you.”
Eliza held the bathroom sink for support.
“I have to go, but tomorrow?” he questioned her.
She swallowed hard and gasped.
“Yes, have no doubt.”
They hovered over each other, the fire ignited again, then sputtered when he kissed her cheek.
Left her for now.
When she saw her face in the mirror, she was filled with doubts.
Her walk back to Rafe was unsteady, but his smile comforted her. Calmed her for the moment. Her emotions were as crooked as the books stacked by the fireplace in the restaurant beside Rafe.

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photo by f dot leonora

Even with Oscar’s hand in hers. Even though they were the only people in the forest. Even though they had made love against the only tree in the forest, Severine did not feel like she was with Oscar. Her past with men–not only Rafe–had disenchanted her.
Everyone needed her body like breath or blood in the beginning, and she loved sex so it was beautiful. Her libido was indefatigable. Sex always worked well, because that was how she interpreted love. Words meant little to her. If the song went it is in his kiss, for her it was in the way a man made love to her. She’d read that in The Mandarins by Simone de Beauvoir, Anne in the novel said you never really knew what a man was like until you were in bed with him.
With Severine it always felt like she made love in a forest, being the only two people in that time and space. But then at some point she and the man she was with got lost like Hansel and Gretel, with nothing at all to lead them back where they had started.
She held Oscar’s hand tightly presently as she thought about past lovers. She had the advantage in this moment, because she was the one doing the navigating in the forest. He followed her, because she was the one who had gotten them here. Most places they went she knew how to navigate better than he did, well at least the far-flung locations like this.
Except Shanghai. Oscar knew a lot about Shanghai, even though he did not tell her much about his time there. She did not ask him a lot, because previously she was unlike Anne in The Mandarins. Her behavior was more like Paula clinging to Henri in the beginning of the book, wanting to believe so much in everything. Even what was not there anymore.
But she was in control presently, of their movement through the forest and her emotions. Oscar’s warm hand in hers, if she put his fingers to her mouth she would taste herself. Yet still she did not feel close enough to him. Or maybe she was afraid to feel close to him…
If serendipity had not taken flight in her life like a grand papillon, if she had not met Oscar randomly in her favorite cafe…She had had no intention of suggesting or starting anything on the plane, because she was still in love with Rafe she had believed. She told Oscar that in the cafe.
He told her about the woman who had haunted him currently. All of their ghosts were put on the table next to their grande cafes, explored like tarot cards. Soft kisses followed only that day, tender and rough lovemaking later. Usually it was a little bit of both tender and rough when they made love. She liked rough because she needed to feel what was being done to her strongly.
They would be in New York tomorrow, and their future would be determined in a much more defined way. The ghosts they placed on the table in Paris were there and even though they had not talked about it, they would know what their future held after that.
Severine was not afraid this time of facing the truth in love. She pulled Oscar’s hand to her mouth, slowly sucked his fingers so she could taste herself on the platter of him.
“Can you taste yourself?”
His words jarred her, but she kissed his hand, dragged her tongue along a vein and nodded.
He stiffened. Severine knew she was no longer in control. The sun filled her eyes, and their tongues filled each other’s mouths.
On the flight going to New York, Severine wanted to flaunt that she was with Oscar, especially for Eleanora’s benefit. But she did not want to give her the leverage to taunt her with it. She was taunted enough with him there, looking at him made her think of forests and lovemaking.
And not getting lost.
They had made love in a plethora of destinations, because of her job as a flight attendant. She ached to slip into the bathroom like they did in the past on prior flights. It was always his impetus. Him looking restless in his seat, tie undone and his hands moving over the wave of his shirt where the buttons were. She went along willingly, staggering her arrival into the tiny bathroom that made peeing a nightmare but created a delicious tightness for making love. Her ass on the sink, and her legs pistoning about him.
Presently she just ran through her mental picture book of them..
What was them?
She walked down the aisle by Oscar, and sudden turbulence and a little extra landed her on his lap. He was hard. Eleanora stared at her, but for a moment she could not resist looking in his eyes and thinking about their future.
“I’m sorry!” she announced for the entire first class.
He caressed her ass just barely.
“No problem.”
With a slight long caress with her backside over his thighs, she imagined giving a lap dance. She felt him get that much harder, and she sashayed away. Not looking back at him, but thinking about tomorrow in New York, and of ghosts.

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photo of the ouija board by norman rockwell taken by f dot leonora