The colorful lighting effects added a futuristic feeling and excitement to the event. I was at the glamorous and glitzy Versace fashion show in New York City. The energy inside the place was so appealing, and there were many young, attractive, creative people. I felt lucky sitting in the front row with elite spectators of Hollywood actors, celebrities, executives, and socialites. This was my first time attending a fashion show, and I felt like I was on their level even though I was an unknown screenwriter.
I was in awe with the designs of the spring/summer 2010 collection that I was seeing. The show only had exotic-looking models of all shades of color walking up and down the catwalk. They oozed sex appeal, and the cameras flashed nonstop. The up-tempo music blared from the speakers had me feeling as if I was at a concert in Madison Square Garden. One of the models that caught my attention was a tall, voluptuous, coffee-brown complexioned beauty blessed with tantalizing curves. She had on a Versace white string bikini, which blew me completely away. I saw a tattoo on her waistline, but I could not quite make it out. I applauded her so loudly so that she can notice me. She looked over to my direction, and we made eye contact. I gazed into her soft green eyes and smiled at her. To my surprise, the stunning model smiled back. Imagining myself making love to her on a tropical island under the golden-yellow sun had me aroused.
“What is her name?” I asked the man wearing the dark suit sitting next to me.
“Oh, that’s the Brazilian bombshell, Letcia.” He answered.
“That’s a cute name.” I said. “It definitely matched her.”
Letcia, her name embedded in my head. Before Letcia walked off the catwalk, she winked and waved goodbye to me. A few of the spectators recognized what she did, patted me on the back, and gave me a pound. For a moment, I felt like the sexiest man in the entire building. Sophie laughed, and she took a picture of my funny facial expressions with her camera phone. I prayed that it would not be the last time I see the Brazilian bombshell Letcia.
One Thursday afternoon, I was walking up the walkway along the West Side Highway taking in the nice view of the Hudson River and New Jersey. A female jogger wearing a white tube top and red track pants was jogging my way. As I focused on the jogger’s brown face, I recognized who she was. It was the model at the Versace show, Letcia. I waved at her, and to my surprised, she recognized my youthful face as she slowed down and sauntered up to me. I can almost hear the pop music blaring from her gray iPod earphones.
“Don’t I know you stranger?” Letcia asked, as she hugged me as if we knew each other since childhood.
“Yeah, I saw you at the Versace fashion show.” I confirmed. “You were amazing!”
“Oh, thanks!” Letcia smiled. “Yeah, you were sitting in the front row with the rich and famous.”
I was checking her out and I noticed the tattoo on her slim waistline was a full red rose. The rose was a fine piece of art, adorning a Goddess. I traced the figure of the rose on her moist skin with my finger, and she chuckled a little. I honestly did not want to stop touching her skin because it felt so soft and wet.
“Why do you have a tattoo of a rose? Does it have any special meaning?”
“Well, one reason is I never receive a rose from a man before.” Letcia claimed. “The second reason is my own personal secret.”
“Yeah, right,” I expressed. “I don’t believe that a gorgeous woman like you never receive a rose from a man before. Well, if it is true, the first man to give you one will be me.”
After exchanging numbers, we planned to hang out Saturday night for some fun in Manhattan. As she jogged away, I was thinking about what a date would be like with Letcia. This was my first date with a runway model and I heard so many stories on how nasty some of them are. I pray the date go well and turn into a serious relationship. I passed several flower shops on the Upper West Side, and I kept thinking of the permanent red rose on Letcia’s nice waistline. To give Ariel a rose on our date was going to feel great
That Saturday night, I went to her apartment. Letcia opened the door, and she looked like a beautiful masterpiece! She wore a short blue top and matching blue shorts. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders nicely. I gave Letcia the single red rose and a tear fell from her eye. She was smiling and I gently touched her soft brown face and wiped the tear off. I was not expecting Letcia to get this emotional over a single rose. It felt very good to see her so happy.
I told her, “Goddess, what is the matter? I told you I was going to be the first one to give you a beautiful rose.”
“Thank you.” Letcia said, as she kissed me on the cheek. “You’re so sweet.”
Somehow, we both knew that this would be no ordinary night. We raced to my ice-white drop-top Lamborghini Gallardo LP 560-4 Spyder and we were off. The weather was so warm and gorgeous. On the Manhattan streets, we attracted a lot of attention. Letcia pulled down her top so her breasts could get some air, and one middle-aged driver with glasses did a double take at the sight of Letcia’s bare breasts, and almost ran over a few pedestrians crossing the street. Both Letcia and I laughed merrily as if we were at a comedy show having a great time. Letcia kept on looking at the rose, and smelling it. I enjoyed watching her smile.
After dinner and the movies, we returned to my penthouse. Letcia walked in ahead of me, I surprised her when I turned on the lights. Pink and red rose petals filled my place. Letcia turned around, and we kissed passionately. I walked over to my Bose system, and put on “Echo” by R. Kelly, and we began dancing. We danced for about an hour before we made love on the rose petals. Letcia whispered to me that it was always something about roses, which made her soul sing and let her know somehow that she was not alone in this world. Now I know the other reason why she had a single rose tattooed on her slim waistline. I kissed her on the forehead, and we both fell asleep.
By Shamarie Knight, 7th Jul 2014