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Someone is waiting to LOVE YOU...
I am a white male and live in the UK. Although I have only ever travelled as far 'east' as the Maldives, for years I have had a 'fascination' about Indian / Asian girls and women. I can't tell you why this is, maybe it is the skin tone, the eyes, their modest behaviour or a combination of all of these elements.
A couple of years ago I was in hospital in the UK for nearly two months. Medical reasons required that I was on strong medications that gave me the pain free time after the radical surgery I underwent. But the other side of this was that I had both delusions and illusions that were surreal in the extreme. However, there were times during the 4 - 5 weeks of this state, that I seemed, for brief periods, to emerge relatively 'clear headed.' It was in those times that I did experience something else, the sense that I was being watched!
It wasn't until the time when my medications were decreased in strength that I began to remember the 'eyes' that were watching me. Although at that time I couldn't put anything about it into a context, I couldn't give myself a setting or an image to explain any of it, other than 'those eyes.' It was when in my more normal state that I saw those eyes again when my of memories came suddenly rushing back to me.
Those eyes were invariable at a distance, say at the back of a group of nurses who were responsible for my recovery, and they had an intensity that I found both strongly drawn to and captivated by. Then when I saw them in my more lucid state, I realised that they were those of an Indian nurse.
She was tall and wore her hair short, in bouncing waves, but which was kept pinned in place at the time. At that time I couldn't tell you anything about her figure, but only of her face which was more than mere lovely ....though her eyes and the way she looked at me, they seemed to always be conveying a 'Question' in them, and it more than sparked my curiosity. For me, there was something hypnotic, almost, in them!
That is the first part of my tale. The second part began some three months after my discharge from hospital, in a pub on a sunny early summers day over 50 miles from where I had been hospitalised.
I'm not normally a person who visits pubs, but I had been out for a walk along the riverside of a nearby market town on a warm Sunday, exercise being a part of my recovery, and I was in need of something to drink. So, I was stood at the bar waiting to be served when I became aware that I was being watched ....and it was a strange almost eerie sensation. I seemed to be on an island amidst the recent and almost sudden arrival of a crowd of people.
I turned, feeling slightly angry at this 'haunting sensation,' and there, behind the crowd stood the same Indian nurse I had seen in the hospital. Her hair was hanging free now, but those eyes!
I made my way through the crowd straight to her, not taking my eyes off of her nor her eyes from me. "Hello John," she said. Her accent threw me, it was what the English might term as 'cut crystal,' in that it was all but without any dialect and very proper English too.
For a moment, I hadn't the faintest of ideas as to what I was going to say to her, and with my eyes still locked onto hers, it seemed that I had to simply force myself to blink. When I did, she was smiling at me, but smiling in a way that reminded my of Princess Diana, 'from under a hooded brow' as she looked up at me.
I heard myself say, "I don't know your name."
"You never read my name tag then!"
Again, I heard myself say, "I was never near enough to read it, nor conscious enough."
She gave a little laugh, "Sharran," and she held out her hand which I shook, so very pleased and relieved to make the physical contact with her.
I sat with my heart racing while Sharran fetched the drinks, explaining to her friends that 'she had met an old friend and wanted to catch up on the past.'
We sat on either side of a picknick bench in the shade of a tree by the waters edge. She was delightful to watch in a yellow summers dress as she made her way back with our drinks. And once seated, "How is your recovery going?"
I had to think about it as my physical situation is a complicated one, "Slowly," I told her. "The walk today has been the first real outing, though I drove here for it. There's no way I could have walked from home to here." She nodded and reached over for my wrist and took my pulse.
"Seems a bit rapid! Are you alight, now?"
It was my turn to laugh. "I don't think my pulse rate has anything to do with my health at present, I think it has more to do with you."
She looked guilty until I said, "Did it occur to you to wonder why it was that I turned and looked straight at you?"
She was searching for an answer, then suddenly said, "No, not until now. It just seemed the most natural thing, at the time! So matter of fact."
"Ok. But because I might never see you again, I'm going to tell you that it is your eyes." Her eyebrows arched in question, "I felt them on me, both in the hospital and when I was in the middle of the crowd at the bar. I felt you, gazing at me ...and I really can't tell you what it felt like. But, I really want to know the Why? It's so strong in me, the need to know the answer."
We sat in silence and sipped on our drinks as she thought about what I had said. Although I couldn't see into here eyes then, I could tell from her face that she was coming to her decision as to whether or not to tell me.
Finally, she said by way of explanation, "I saw you naked."
Again, I laughed. "Yes, well you must have, but then, you are a nurse, you must have seen a great many men and women naked. What was so particular about myself that caused those eyes of yours to haunt me?"
The smile was gone when she said, "Your early morning erections," and she was looking directly into my eyes. "There was something, such beauty in there that it haunted me ...I kept wanting to touch you and to understand what the feelings you had were like."
Ah well ....that did it. I was lost. I couldn't think of a thing to say ...not for a minute or what seemed like a half hour or so. I then realised and said, "But, I don't remember you ever actually nursing me! You were always there in the background, behind the others."
She explained quite carefully the intricacies of their 'shift system,' and my always being unconscious when she actually had her 'hands on the patient.' Then, looking both guilty and conspiratorial, she asked with a level of hunger in her eyes and a sudden boldness about her, "Well, what does it feel like, to be erect like that?"
Comments to : A3rae03@aol.com
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