Dawn Rendezvous

If Sheila had not met MJ , the phrase "earth-shattering chemistry" would have continued to be as meaningful to her as "Intra-Universe wormhole" is. It was just 5:30 a.m. when she called him from the intersection of 42nd Street and 7th Avenue. Small town girl that she was, she had lost her bearings in Manhattan as always.

"Where are you ?" he asked her. She told him. "Stay right there. I'll meet you in about 10". He sounded pretty wide awake even at such an early hour. When she turned around to his "Hey, you" there was MJ in person even more attractive than he was in his pictures. The smile was as devastating as it was inscrutable - he seemed to be amused at some inside joke that she did not get. What it lacked in openness it made up for in high-octane charm.

For the couple of hours they spent together, she seemed to have lost control over her body. With every fleeting touch or caress she wanted him with a feral intensity that scared her. He could not keep his hands off her and she did not resist.

They had both meant to have a "conversation" upon meeting first but had not counted on physical chemistry rendering it quite impossible. They could not find anything meaningful to talk about. The charge between them was snuffing out words sooner than they could come up with but the abrupt silences did not feel awkward.

In the past few weeks they had great phone conversations that lasted hours. They had been excited about the spontaneous connection and at the chance to meet even if at this very odd hour. At 7:30 they both had to leave. She had a breakfast meeting with a client before her flight back home, he had to get to work.

MJ gave her a hug and whispered into her ear "Miss me" before saying goodbye - his body arrogantly probing hers in an embrace so close that it could be coital. As she got into her cab, she wondered how the morning might have turned out if they had met at his place in Brooklyn or somewhere a little more private than the middle of Times Square.

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