Proverbial Woman, Chapter 1, Part 4

Prompted by a brief inhale, then a breathing sigh. In a scratchy, though evasive tone he murmured, “To behold a woman as she go without bickering and challenging contention, as she humbly accept defeat over conquered revelry, is to capture the essence of womanhood in its most civil state. A virtuous woman understands what it means to cherish love in the face of its demands. There is a grace that is bestowed upon her that transcends every dimension of human nature. In her possession is found an unyielding degree of humility, a state of grace in which the most contending of hearts fall into submission. She is blessed with a heart of peace. She understand and respects the will of its course as something that can guide or ultimately consume her way of life.”

“Yes, its true. We are only as strong as the power that consumes us,” I injected.

“That is correct. Except the principles of a virtuous woman is preempted by love. She embraces each and every relative form of its grace as it is deemed by spiritual law,” he added.

“You won’t find that in today’s women,” I remarked.

“I know. Sad isn’t?” He commented, as he resumed working.

At this point my thoughts started regressing as they turned to my relationship with Mother Celia. Ever since I was a little girl she has always been the one person that I referred to while attempting to define my identity. Many times I watched her in my innocence of admiration as she assuredly carried herself with a level of grace and dignity rarely seen in young women today.

It wasn’t a sense of pride she displayed. Nor was it enduring gestures of submission. It was the idea of knowing who she was. And for the most part, what her heart was made of-an unyielding source of something pure, timeless, and profoundly graceful. She passed that inner strength onto my father, an unshakable faith she found in her relationship with God.

I’ve encountered other individuals who have displayed similar attributes of grace under trials, and they all spoke in witness of something spiritual helping them along in their journey. They all had managed to get through the obstacles that were set before them.

“That same sense of infinite strength that is found in love, is also the source of strength that lives in the essence of a woman. Much like this rose…” he added, as he pulled one from the crystal vase sitting next to him on the coffee table.

“Close your eyes,” he whispered.

As I submissively complied he reached over and gently placed it under my nose. “Now take a deep breath and hold it,” he commanded. I took in a long, and slow deep breath. And held it for about five seconds before releasing.

“So, what was the first thing that came to your mind when its fragrance hit your nose?”

“Umm…Home. Memories of the garden, my years of growing up on the estate.”

“How about special…did it make you feel special? Being fortunate to live around such beauty.”

“Yeah. I guess. I never thought of it in that way. But that is the feeling I have nowadays…constantly surrounded by beauty.”

“Good,” he replied as he began unfastening my robe, before spreading it open. “Now close your eyes again,” he whispered.

I quickly closed them in anticipation of what he had in store. After a few passing moments he then proceeded to softly brush what appeared to be a dangling petal across the creases of my lips. Dispensing an unsteady purr as he had his way with me. He then gradually, and though ever so gently, began descending down upon the base of my chin.
Softly sweeping along the structural form of my cheekbone, from one side to the other. Momentarily pausing as he briefly engaged my chin, he then slowly slid downward to the base of my throat. Steadily twirling in a circular motion. In a slow and gentle sway he shifted over toward my left shoulder, before proceeding to faintly brush from one end to the other, across the protruding surface of my clavicle.

By now I was feeling totally enraptured and completely under his spell. Sensing his ability to control my every whim, I suddenly found myself refraining from resisting his tenderness, as I effortlessly resolved to let go.