Beginnings - Night Pools

The evenings have been cool and clear. The mountain air is chilled as it blows down the canyons and spreads across the surface of the lake. The lake is calm but for tiny rippled waves which blur the reflection of a three quarter moon in its glassy surface. The mountain’s nocturnal predators are about. The soft rustle of leaves and the occasional cry reveal their presence and their prowling of the surrounding dense forests of pine and juniper.

Roger Hamilton Holt sat in the darkness of the rough hewn log balcony and watched the bats and the occasional night hawk flutter and swoop from the sky against the backdrop of bright celestial stars to skim silently over the water. This was his lake. He owned it and ten miles stretching out from its shores in every direction. Roger smiled and brought a drink to his lips. The view at night of his kingdom always calmed his nerves. Of course, the alcohol was a significant aid.

Roger set the drink aside and looked at his watch. With a touch, it illuminated green. 11:51 PM, time to make the call. He rose from his reclined position, gathered the robe around him and looped the drawstrings in a loose knot around a firm and deftly toned stomach. He pulled open the glass doors between the balcony and the bedroom suite and stepped through.
“Angela…..Lights!” He commanded firmly. Bright recessed lighting clicked on with an unintelligible hum. He squinted in the stark contrast.

“Soft” He commanded again. The lights dimmed obediently. He stalked into the closet, loosened the robe and let it fall to the floor.

He wore nothing beneath the robe. Standing in front of a wall length mirror, he admired the smooth curves and subtle symmetry of the tight muscles around his shoulders, thighs and chest, the taunt quiver of his lower legs and butt. His stomach rippled to narrow but solid hips. His head was completed shaved and glistened in the soft back light.

He pulled long black silk boxers from a drawer and stepped into them. Returning to the main bed chamber, he spoke again.

“Angela…Videophone!”

A small section of the wall was displaced by an ebony colored video screen. A sultry female voice whispered.

“Who would you like to call?”

“Gibson...at the club!” He barked.

“Thank you, one moment.” Seconds later, the screen came alive.