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So there it is, girl. I've said it all now. And here we are, babe, what do you say?
We've Got Tonight, why don't we stay?
Kenny Rogers and Sheena Easton.

My God. Tracy's going to be a star someday...

Tracy started out fun and affectionate while on the freeway, but suddenly wanted to spew her woes when I headed into the foothills.

Out lookout spot in the mountains lay twenty-minute ahead, twenty frustrating minutes of Whiny Tracy. I tried to ignore most of it, but when she told me, "My ex-boyfriend didn't support my dream," I took the bait.

"Uhh, Tracy? What is your dream?"

She replied, "I'm going to be an opera singer."

An opera singer. Tracy is a literal drama queen.

I had some experience dating theatrical women and models. I didn't necessarily like them, but on the plus side, they had been easy. Despite her present mood, I expected that Tracy would sensually play her part when the time came.

Meanwhile, she intrigued me. I had never scored an opera singer before, though she would not be my last one.
I asked Tracy to sing, as it seemed the right thing to do. Though not expecting much, I will never forget the first note she sang.

She's an angel.

The soprano note started out soft, but with amazing projection. She slowly increased the volume and vibrato over ten seconds, until it filled every bit of the Riviera's interior and overwhelmed the loud exhaust. During the decrescendo, her voice continued to flood my pleasure center while I melted with joy.

I looked over at her in shock. The cute and silly girl had transformed into a beautiful, soulful woman, as Tracy's face shaped the magical sounds. Her hands aided the image, dancing and swimming to hypnotizing patterns in front of her.

Even Tracy's sweet brown eyes differed. She slowly closed her lids, turned towards me, then half opened them as she completed her phrase. A tiny tear rolled down her cheek, inspiring one of my own. I no longer regretted leaving Alice's bed. She simply didn't exist at that moment, and Tracy had become my whole world.

I couldn't think of anything appropriate to say when she finished, so I just took her hand and drove in silence. After a minute I blurted out, "Tracy, that was amazing."

She smiled and raised her eyebrows, urging more out of me. What else could I say?

I confessed, "I feel so dumb, singing that song to you last week, without realizing how talented you are. Thank you for not laughing or walking out on me."

Tracy studied me. "No, Ray. I really did love it. You were so wonderful, and nobody ever wrote a song for me before. You made me feel special."

I suspected Tracy manipulated me into saying sweet things, but oddly, it didn't bother me the way it did with other women. Many Tracy things were like that.

I kissed her hand. "You are special."

Tracy gave me the same look Alice did when I said things like that, and I wondered if she was going to ask, "Really, Ray? How am I special?"

Always full of surprises, she instead came back with, "Ray? Why did you say that? Did you think I wanted to hear it?"

Tracy asked excellent questions. "Yes, I thought you wanted to hear it. I like making you feel good. It's how I know you're special."

When she took off her shoe, I was prepared to duck, but she just put her foot in my lap to rub. Tracy was the third woman who had done that to me while I drove.

Do I come with some kind of instruction manual?

As I massaged her heel, she said, "Mmm, I like that, Ray. What I don't like, is your circular arguments."

Caught completely off guard, it took me a few seconds to respond. "Tracy, it's a positive feedback loop. I say something nice to you, it makes you happy, your happiness makes me feel good about you, which makes me want to say more nice things."

I ran a fingernail along her arch, just above where it would have tickled. "Same thing with how I like to touch you."

Tracy made a variety of faces before asking, "Where did that come from?"

"Tracy, it came off the top of my head, just for you, because you're special."

Completely improvising, I had no idea what I was trying to say. I just wanted to make Tracy feel good. It was a really strange way to realize I cared for her much more than I had thought, and I hoped she would see it that way.

She picked up the shoe, flipped it over in her hand, then sighed, "I'm sorry, Ray. This is an unusual situation for me, and I'm trying to figure it out."

Not every woman can handle being a side piece, and I tried my best to make it easier for her, but I just wasn't very good at this sort of thing. "Uh, Tracy?"

She tilted her head.

I cautiously asked, "You did want me to say that you're special, right?"

She tapped my ear with her shoe. "Of course I did. I already knew, but it was nice to hear you say."

Perhaps I need to retire the word "special."

Alice's questions were frustrating, but at least she didn't play games to figure out how I felt about her. A split second later, it occurred to me that Tracy's game had worked, and somehow made us closer.

I ignored Tracy for a minute until she drew my attention by brushing my stomach with her foot. When I turned, she had a hand in her bra with her eyes closed, as if the drama turned her on. It was the closest to Sexy Tracy that I ever saw, yet she was still just...cute.

I resumed the foot massage, and Tracy whispered, "Thank you, Ray. This is perfect."

The more comfortable Tracy got with me, the more confusing she became. A few women over the years had accused me of the same thing. I finally understood what they meant, and sympathized with them.

11:30 pm

Navigating by memory, I turned off the mountain highway onto an unmarked dirt road. I proceeded cautiously, as my Riviera was not built for the steep and winding first hundred feet. After a much gentler quarter mile, I parked in a secluded turnout that overlooked the sprawling metropolis.

Tracy shrugged. "Of course you knew where to go. How many women have you brought here?"

I counted to ten on my fingers, then started on her fingers with a chuckle, "A few..."

Tracy just glared at me. "Ray. You say I'm special, then you joke about all your other women. Am I just another notch on your belt?"

She reached for my waist to emphasize her words, then reconsidered, tapping on the dashboard instead, which was almost as accurate.

I didn't think of Tracy that way, not really, but any outside observer would say, "Yes, silly girl. You are merely a plaything to him."

Ignoring her question, I shut off the car. The deep engine rumble which had constantly accompanied us on the drive suddenly disappeared into the quiet of our hideaway. I was used to it, but the abrupt stillness interrupted Tracy's drama for the moment.

A magnificent view of the city lay four-thousand feet below us, so I got out of my Buick and leaned on the sensually curved rear quarter panel. It voluptuously mimicked my favorite geometry of a woman, the S curve of hips into waist. As I gazed at the multitude of lights, my fingertip ran idly along the fender while I waited for Tracy to join me.

It only took a minute. "Tracy, I'm sorry. I know this can't be easy, and I shouldn't have teased you."

She nodded, so I continued. "I've only had one other woman here, almost three years ago. This can be our place. I won't bring anyone else here."

Though I didn't feel like a womanizer at all, the numbers didn't lie. I had dated almost forty women in the last five years, with half of those going nowhere, but I had been intimate with most of the rest. However, only five had captured my heart in any way, with Tracy among them. I considered telling her that, but she had turned away from me.

She looked around the turnout, went to the edge, then spun around. "How did you find this place? It's perfect for...what we're going to do."

It seemed I had successfully deflected the notch question.

For now...

I replied, "A... friend showed it to me on a map."

Best to not mention Nick...

Tracy seemed to accept my answers, then hopped on top of the rear fender with her arms open, beckoning me with both hands. It leveled her head with mine, and as I stepped between her legs to kiss her, Tracy wrapped a foot around my back. I unbuttoned my dress shirt, then Tracy obediently kissed and stroked my bare chest while I removed her work shirt. The half-moon brought a soft glow to the pale skin of her chest and her lacy blue bra. Mutually pleased with our physiques, we began exploring each other's upper bodies.

Though her breasts were very small and unremarkable, Tracy's bra served only as decoration, lacking any padding or support. I did not unclasp and remove it from the front, as I figured it made her feel pretty.

Other small-breasted women had left their bras on during our encounters. It wasn't my preference, but their comfort meant more than my desire to kiss and caress their breasts. Eventually, the bra always came off when they got on top of me, as the position made small breasts look bigger, and by that time, the women rarely cared anymore.

Because I was not subtle, I said, "Tracy, I love your sexy bra, and the color looks great against your beautiful skin."

She laughed at me. "Ray, I know what you're doing. You think I'm self-conscious about my chest, right? Look, I know my body isn't very sexy, but I'm happy with it."

Tracy shed her bra, then proudly presented herself to me. "You like it, too."

Before I could catch myself, I replied, "I do like your body," then lovingly kissed every inch of her bare torso.

Tracy responded in the same way, and I eagerly fell into the rhythm of affection. Our making out became a sensual dance, where we instinctively took turns leading each other into passion, bonding, and vulnerability. The thought gave me an idea, so I turned on the radio and found a flat area in the turnout. She and I danced to the Kenny Rogers and Sheena Easton version of Bob Seger's "We've Got Tonight," under the stars, with the urban lights glowing far beneath us.

A magical romcom moment teared us up when we sang the last line, "Why don't we stay?" to each other.

The time had come. "Tracy, we're getting in the backseat now."

She quietly stammered, "Umm... Ray. I... I don't want you to think I'm usually like this. It took me a long time to give myself to my ex, and..."

No turning back, Tracy...

I took a deep breath. Leading a woman past last minute objections took finesse, but I had plenty of experience.

It's not rocket science. Just make her feel special...

"Tracy, it's our third time together. We both have intense emotions for each other, and this feels so...right."

"Feels so...right?" That sounds like a song lyric. Alice would have laughed at that line...

Tracy held my arm. "Yes, it does feel right."

I took her hand and stroked her cheek. "I'm so into you, and went through so much to be here, to make love to you."

That was a risky thing to say. Hopefully she won't ask exactly what I did...

"This is our time, Tracy. Are you ready for us?

Tracy looked up at me, nodded, then slowly entered the backseat of my Riviera. I followed her in a daze. Everything I had said was true, but I still felt sleazy for taking advantage of her emotions.

On the other hand, perhaps this is how she planned it. I may have met my match with Tracy...

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