I was in Sacramento for a business conference. I had taken the day to attend satsang at a local ashram. My body was tired from sitting meditation all day and my mind held a lingering emptiness that left me wide open to my emotions. I walked into the small bar down the street from the motel where I was staying. A woman, tall with light brown hair, was sitting at the bar. I sat a couple of seats down from her. She might've been 35. The mid thirties in a woman's life is when she is most alluring to me. She is confident, knows who she is and what she wants, she usually has her own money, and she knows how to have an orgasm, with or without me. And by thirty a women has given birth, which gives a fullness to her body, both inside and out. Her breasts are softer and more pliable from being kneaded and suckled. Her belly and hips have been spread roundly and soft into womanhood, and that makes me hard. We were alone at the bar and she noticed me fairly quickly. I could feel her discomfort at my presence. And not in a cautious way; she was interested.

I asked if I could buy her a drink. She accepted, and I moved to the chair next to her. She squirmed a little in her seat as I approached her, which triggered the vein in my penis to expand and contract. I have a high libido and this subtle movement deep within sometimes surprises me. It is a cue that I am deeply moved by a woman's beauty or sexual potential. Her eyes were an emerald green, big and round. So bright that I wondered if they were contacts. It would be hours later when I would discover that they were as natural as her full breasts.

She was visiting her sister and family who were in school or still at work somewhere in the city. She was smart and funny, and knew more about my favorite author than I did. I liked how she kept glancing at my arms and hands; like maybe she was imagining them enfolding and massaging her. We talked like that for awhile, on politics, current events, the absurdity of pop culture. We even talked about spirituality. I love watching a woman’s mouth move when she talks. I could imagine her lips over my lingham, her smile across my belly. I’ve heard it said that the scent of a woman’s vagina can be detected from a distance of one foot of her, but I had never experienced it. Not until that woman. Everything about her was feminine. But she was strong too. She smelled wonderful; musky and sweet like cinnamon maybe, or nutmeg. Making love with her would be easy and comforting. We were feeling light and familiar after a couple of hours. Suddenly, she looked right into my eyes and asked me if she could make love to me. It had been a long time since a woman had made me feel that vulnerable. We were barely out of the bar when I took her in my arms and kissed her; deep in her mouth. She tasted like the cream from her White Russians, and her mouth was still chilled a bit from taking down the last bit of ice from the high ball glass. My hands found her ass quickly. She was so damn soft; her body, her skin, her smile. She was maybe the most beautiful woman I had ever touched.