Our story takes place in Seville back in the days when I, Don Giovanni would go on my nightly prowls in search of a damsel to fulfill in the delight of her lust with the passion of my desire yet my memory takes me to one particular conquest. It coming on the evening on which my faithful Leporello and I decided to attend the opera.
The air of the night was warm as is often the case in Seville during the months of summer as I sat in my balcony seat at the opera house with Leporello by my side. I, naturally as always had chosen appropriate attire for an occasion of such elegance that would include not only the opera but the sight my eyes as well as ears would get of the soprano; Angela Gheorghiu. I in all truth had heard so much about Angela Gheorghiu yet this night would be for me to benefit from this lady whose beauty and talent had been the subject of many a toast in Seville ever since her performance was announced.
For my part as I waited must admit was planning the approach which would be used in my eventual seduction of this most beautiful yet from my sources; very capricious diva of the world of opera. My wait however was not prolonged, as it did not take long for her to come out on to the stage which was the world of her creation; where she like a queen ruled all she surveyed. Angela Gheorghiu's was stunning to say the least, as her beauty out shown even the image that preceded her with features of the woman of glamour she was and not just in the clothes of a queen she wore but her body of pure womanhood and sexuality; not limited to curves but the way she moved on stage as she performed for all yet to me hers was for my exclusive benefit.
Angela Gheorghiu was many things that night as her body glided over the stage from one end to the other in this opera which was solely brought to live by her and all that comprised the lady she was yet in all my attention was captivated by her face and the expressions it created as she acted out her part. She at times transforming from a woman of distinction to a willful child, who gave the impression of having the whole world at her disposal. This being apparent in her facial gestures yet in all her brown eyes could not go unnoticed as they in their size and exquisiteness let out all too clearly their intension along with the rest of her angelic face which had a certain charm about it to accompany its splendor.
Angela Gheorghiu being from Rumania had the blackest of hair which seemed to match the night for not only loveliness but mystery; as it caught the stage lights in a way as to reflect the appearance of stars from this mane so womanly in its shape which extended beyond her shoulders. She was a delight to watch yet in all I was also captured by my desires, for my visions were not limited to what passed before my eyes on stage but the fantasies of us being created in the spectrum of my mind. As Angela Gheorghiu sang with almost orgasmic expressions on her face, I could envision them as a product of our carnality as my ear interpreted her high soprano voice as moans created from rapture.
Angela Gheorghiu at times even seemed to be flirting with her audience, as if inviting them to dream of her in their fantasies, to the women as they might wish to resemble her whilst to the men she seemed to be provoking them to demonstrate on to her the valor of their gender. All this being in eyes that she did so, added to a voice to fill the audience as if a delicate spray of sea breeze to delight not merely the sense of hearing but that of the spirit; as it might take flight to the fantasy held in all that she was.
The opera would come to an end as is always the case yet to me it was as if I had been witnessing another spectacle than that of those who were about me in the auditorium that was this opera house. Angela Gheorghiu would naturally be showered with roses for her performance merited every single flower and cheer delivered yet for myself; mine would be to catch her eye as by the end I had gone down to where the stage was to toss a huge bouquet of red roses. This being my gallantry for the evening which came to the attention of the lovely Angela who but smiled upon me; (as she picked up the roses) who being caught by her gaze merely placed my hand upon my heart and bent my body as I took my leave.
