Kickoff written by Edmund

The Genesis: A Love Story

The Arrival

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Our pearl-white Jeep Rubicon rental had struggled to conquer its steep and winding task, but here we were, alive, oh so alive. The wheels loudly munched the frozen gravel driveway as we approached the front of the countryside cabin where the spongy porch lighting sympathetically revealed the massive Ponderosa logs encasing the exterior. It was close to 9 p.m. The eerily dark evening concealed the surrounding mountainous terrain of the Cherokee National Forrest.

Until today, all of our interactions occurred via the dating site eharmony and the social media platform Facebook as well as Skype, Apple’s FaceTime, and, of course, text messaging. We started our E romance about a year ago, Kathy is from Tampa, Florida, and me from San Jose’, California. We lent new meaning to the term, long-distance relationship. Somehow, it immediately clicked for both of us. An attraction of the ages. One of those indescribable moments in time when two souls meet and a single soul emerges. So, it was a long-anticipated
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Kathleen Ann Martin, at twenty-eight, is an intelligent, renaissance woman. She has annihilated the collegiate community’s chauvinistic allusion that a pretty face and keen mind were mutually exclusive female attributes. Kathy enjoys a perfectly proportioned figure mounted on her five-foot-eight-inch frame. Her shoulder-length flaxen hair is exceptionally complemented by her mesmerizing cerulean blue eyes, heart-shaped face, distinct, though not an overbearing nose, and full sensuous blush red lips… her only source of self-consciousness. I might add that I find her crooked little smile disarmingly enchanting and inviting. Kathy’s ethereal beauty of complexion only lends credence to her Scandinavian heritage. While she inherited a pair of X chromosomes, Kathy possesses the physical strength and ruggedness born of the seemingly endless archeological field trips that her educational major demands. I quickly learned Kathy's fierce sense of equality and independence. Other than
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her intelligence and stunning beauty, this is one of her most endearing traits.

Other than a brief hug and a way too quick kiss at the airport, Kathy and I softly pressed our hands together during the entire three-hour trip to the cabin. Not much was said. I can’t say it was awkward, it was just strange to be together, finally, in person. It was the first time I had physical contact with her and it was amazingly sensuous bordering on lustful. The moon was haloed behind a passing opaque, cloud cover boosting the bitter-cold harshness of a foreboding storm, yet to arrive. We unloaded the Gladiator quickly and ran up the stairs holding hands laughing foolishly as children anticipating a snow day. The keys were where the agent had promised. Entering, the glow of the fire’s dancing mood lighting, softened a vast stone fireplace. To the right on the broad stone hearth, was a bundle of split firewood piled in a substantial wrought iron basket. We threw the suitcases at the foot of the peeled
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log stairway and hurried into the kitchen with our Mondavi Cabernet Sauvignon Reserve and Swarovski Wine Glasses that we purchased on the way. A case would surely last the weekend, I thought. As I removed the glasses from the packaging, I noticed Kathleen’s momentary glance as she pulled out two log stools at the granite-covered center island of this enormous, gourmet kitchen. Expectations were palpable. I soon found the corkscrew, opened a bottle, and poured for two. My heart was racing, my prospects were barely under control. I brought the glasses, half each of grape nectar, and placed them in front of the copiously cushioned stools. I asked for Kathy’s indulgence as I left to stoke the fire and quickly returned to the kitchen. Sheepishly, I kissed her on her forehead as an expanse began growing in my loin. Lust was not an objective; an evening of tender lovemaking was. My brain was racing, forecasting the finish line. I needed to gain control of myself, but could I?
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