A Tale About Love 1 — A Felicitous Encounter - Cover

A Tale About Love 1 — A Felicitous Encounter

Copyright© 2024 by Buzios

Chapter 4: A Night at the Opera

Romance Sex Story: Chapter 4: A Night at the Opera - A young German workaholic businessman meets a young girl on a party in Sydney, and with the help of a bottle of Grange Hermitage, a Porsche Carrera, and Joan Sutherland singing Casta Diva, they fall in love. There will be problems - her mother is a successful businesswoman, with whom he tries to close a big contract, but she does not like him at all in the beginning. At the end, however, they realize their love.

Caution: This Romance Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   Fiction   Humor   First   Oral Sex   Petting   Slow  

I drove back to the apartment, had a shower, changed - and it was difficult to select the right semi-formal dark blue suit, the white shirt, and the correct Hermès tie. Then I waited for the time to pass, but not for long; calling the driver I had contracted for tonight (no searching for a parking lot and no restraint on drinking a glass of wine), I asked him to come now. I was early and sat down in one of the comfortable chairs in the lobby. All of a sudden, the noise level dropped, and I looked up.

There she was - a vision of beauty and grace walking towards me. I swear that every man in the lobby was mesmerized, and every woman envious. She had her hair done up in glorious curls freeing her proud neck. Her golden earrings adorned with green stones moved with every step and she had changed her face from pretty to beautiful - golden high cheeks, glossy lips, and a smidgen of makeup to accentuate her beautiful, huge, green eyes. Her black dress had an almost daring décolleté showing the top of her pert breasts and was accented by a faultless pearl choker and a simple gold bracelet. The dress followed every curve of her body, from her narrow waist to her slender hips and ended at her knees, showing off her long legs. She wore black open-toed sandals with gold and green straps, and they clicked with every step she made coming closer and closer. Her face was radiant, and her eyes looked deeply into mine, waiting for a reaction. A moment passed, then another, and her mouth quirked.

As I rose to my feet she said, “I was expecting some appreciation for the effort, but I didn’t think I’d leave you completely speechless.”

Broken out of my reverie, I realised that my mouth must have been hanging open. “You’re so beautiful...” I said in a reverent whisper and having recovered a bit, went further.

“Goodness gracious, you are beautiful! Maureen, how could you change so much from last night to this moment? Did you bewitch me? Is this your older sister?”

“No, James, it’s me and I’m willing to go out to a splendid evening with my handsome consort. Aren’t you going to kiss me?”

I did as ordered (careful not to smudge her makeup, but with enormous pleasure) and offered my arm. She linked hers with mine and off we went. I couldn’t avoid looking back at all those faces staring at us and almost shouted ‘she’s with me, just with me and there is nothing you can do. She is mine!’

Maureen looked at me and asked what this was about. I shrugged and replied that this was a man thing that women didn’t understand. I handed her into the car, and we were off to the opera. Since we were early, we sat down at the bar, and I ordered two glasses of champagne. Looking around, I was impressed by the flowing lines of the building. I had read about the problems the Opera had during its history: The Danish architect Jan Utzon won the international competition in 1957 and construction started almost soon afterwards, and it was finished only in 1973. It was one of the principal tourist attractions in Australia, with more than eight million visitors per year. Especially at night it was a wonderful sight, with its three principal arches lit up brightly.

Maureen sipped her champagne and asked, “James, since I tried yesterday to make you understand wines a bit better, why don’t you tell me something about the opera we’re going to see?”

“It was composed in the early 1830s by Vincenzo Bellini and is considered today as one of the peaks of bel canto singing. The storyline is fairly ridiculous, with a Roman Pro-Consul having two kids with the High Druidess, but now loving her friend Adalgisa (also a Druidess) and wants to return to Rome with Adalgisa and the two kids. Most Italian operas from that period were like this, but the music just soars. I saw it once in the Met with Joan Sutherland and Marilyn Horne and it was absolutely fabulous. After the Casta Diva aria, she received a five-minute standing ovation! Maureen, my nature and my upbringing make it difficult for me to be touched by sentimental emotions, but that aria makes it hard for me not to cry! I have that night in my count of treasures that I’ll remember until the end of my days - and may I say that I added another one today?”

She looked at me and touched my hand.

“James, I never met the man you describe - I met an intelligent, courteous, decisive, funny, and sensitive man who went through my barriers like they didn’t exist. I can’t remember when I felt as much enjoyment and vivacity in everything we did together these two days. Perhaps one day I’ll tell you a bit of my past, but that’s another story and not for today. Just be certain that I wouldn’t have gone out with the man you started to describe, and I certainly wouldn’t have kissed him the way I did - and may I assume that you enjoyed it, too? I’m happy if you want to include me in your thoughts in the future - I’ll certainly not forget these days easily.”

“Maureen, I’ll try everything possible that you will not be able to forget these days but let us go inside before I do get too emotional! I do not want to destroy my image of the tough, rational German.”

I pulled her up and we walked slowly into the lobby; it was grandiose, with a huge chandelier lighting up the staircases. We had good seats, not too close, but close enough to the stage that we could observe everything. The lights dimmed and the overture started. When the three main characters appeared for the first time together, I wondered who had done the casting. Joan Sutherland had always been a rather stout tall woman, and with age approaching, her face had become chiselled into hard angles. Adalgisa was young and pretty, but Pollione, the Roman proconsul, was much younger than Joan and at least six inches shorter than she was. He was well dressed, however - the shining body armor, the helmet with a red, high crest, and a gladius at his left. When he hugged Norma and tried to kiss her, everyone was amused with him reaching upwards and she bending down - there definitively was no visible emotion!

But this was opera and one had to abandon logic. I took Maureen’s hand and felt her leaning over to me, and when she laid her head on my shoulders, I closed my eyes. The story was way over the top emotionally and not very logical, but as I had mentioned to Maureen, the music just flowed from one scene to the other. Still, in the first act the druids come to convince the High Druidess to declare war on the Romans and she asks for a moment of reflection. Her prayer to the Moon Goddess was the high moment of that opera. I knew the lyrics well:

... Casta Diva ... Pure Goddess,
whose silver covers these sacred ancient plants,
we turn to your lovely face
unclouded and without veil
... ‘{br}

Joan Sutherland’s soprano voice soared and soared ever higher, and I was taken away into a moment of pure emotion. When she finished, there was silence for a moment and then everyone stood up and the ovation was long and loud. I looked at Maureen - she smiled tenderly and caringly, and then laid a hand on my face and wiped away a tear that was slowly forming. She touched my lips with her hand and then her lips, blowing me a kiss.

Later I perceived that this was the moment when all my feelings for the beautiful woman at my side changed from an affectionate curiosity to a much deeper emotion. It was no longer just the pride to have her at my side, but I wanted her to stay there - now and forever. I wanted to care for her and see her face smiling, see her eyes sparkling, and even hear her teasing me with affection, and who knows, maybe even more than affection.

I don’t remember much of the rest of the opera - I knew it well but was thinking more about Maureen and what was ahead for me and us. The music ended and after long ovations, we left. The driver was waiting and took us to a dinner club where the food was reasonable and at the weekend there was live music for dancing.

The table I had reserved was ready and Maureen looked around. The lighting was dimmed down a bit, the decoration was traditional with pastel colours and some oil paintings depicting the sea and sailing ships. The only noise you heard was background murmuring and the occasional clicks of glasses.

“It is nice here. Do you come here often?”

“I have not been here before. Peter told me to reserve it for special moments - and I count tonight as a very special moment.”

She blushed slightly and the freckles on her face appeared even through her discreet makeup.

We ordered a glass of champagne and looked at the menu. I recommended the fish and she agreed to have a John Dory with asparagus and a champagne sauce. She chose the wines, and she thoroughly enjoyed the taste and the texture of this flavoursome fish.

We discussed the opera, and she concurred that the story was rather silly; we agreed, however, on the wonderful voice of Joan Sutherland. This was probably one of her last performances because I had heard that she was thinking of retiring. When Maureen complimented me on my knowledge of operas, I replied that my family always insisted that children had to have a classical upbringing, and this had continued through my adult life. In any case, we complemented each other, she with her wines and I with my music. We had a light dessert with a glass of Rutherglen Tokay finishing off the night.

I was lucky - at that moment a small band appeared on stage and started to play some soft music.

“May I ask you for a dance, dear lady? I’d be honoured and deeply pleasured to hold you in my arms.”

“Why, kind sir - it would be my pleasure to dance with you and to be held in your arms.”

“Do you know what you are saying? Are you just teasing or are you serious?”

“I couldn’t be more serious and nothing would give me more pleasure than to dance with you - and I mean every word, my dear James.”

I almost stumbled on the way to the dance floor - this was the first time she had spoken a word of endearment. There was hope!

The music started and I took her into my arms, moving slowly to the tune and rhythm of the song. I looked down at her and she had her eyes closed, snuggling closer to me, and then put her arms around my neck. She was not used to romantic dancing, but when the music was ending, I lifted her face toward me and pulling her even closer. I felt the softest and most delicious lips pressed against mine. The kiss lasted for a few moments and very reluctantly, I let her go. We looked into each other’s eyes and again I got lost in her smile, her sparkling eyes, and her charm. She seemed equally satisfied with our time together. There was another dance with the same happy finish, and I took her back to the table. And then I risked everything.

“Maureen, you must have realised that my feelings for you have changed during the last two days. I know what I want - I want to get to know you much better and see you as often as possible. I have thought about what happened and still don’t know completely why this happened, only that I want more. I do not want to push you too much, but I do not want you to go away as I would regret that for a long, long time. May I ask you something and no teasing, please? What do you see in me? And what do you feel about me? Is there a chance for us?”

She gazed at me for a long time and then made up her mind.

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