Friday night I gave Conny specific instructions for the morning. to wake me when she awoke. Left on my own I would no doubt sleep the day away.

Saturday morning arrived with sidewalk construction right outside. My street is fairly quiet for a New York street, with the periodic exception of the fire house. But this very special morning, the first morning Conny is ever in the Big Apple, wouldn't you know there is a jack-hammer pounding away practically in front of the building at 8 AM. They must follow all international tourists with the City Cliche Squad which makes an effort to deliver stereotypical New York experiences. Luckily, she was up slightly before the racket began. So by the time she was showered and dressed, the boys with the pneumatic hammer had made sure I was also awake.

While we got ready to begin our tour, we both confessed some degree of difficulty with falling asleep the night before. Not much more was said about it, but I could feel the ever so slight sense of emotional acceleration. I had no doubt that a good day lay ahead.

Conny expressed no specific agenda and placed her full trust in me to guide her. I'll admit I was a bit overwhelmed with this. Even though I live in the city, I don't really go out and see things here. Conny was my hospitality guinea pig, and her willingness to go pretty much anywhere did not make the task easier.

We had a brisk but sunny day for our scenic stroll. The wind sometimes became a tad bitter, but she expressed no discomfort, and our pace kept us warm. We walked through Times Square, past the New York Public Library and Bryant Park. Then we nipped into Grand Central Terminal to admire the architechture, see the masses of people and to grab a quick breakfast bite. From Grand Central we headed north up Park Avenue, and then over a bit to the posh shops of Madison Avenue. In spite of my endless encouragement, I could not get the woman to shop. She claimed the need for restraint for personal purchases so my efforts to intoxicate her on Manhatan's great clothing shopping failed. I was still optimistic, as I ha a reserve plan to get her hooked on my city...

Devoid of any shopping bags, we pressed on further north to Central Park. As we walked from the east side of the park over to the west side, we talked about everything from my intimidation of horseback riding, to her polyglot skills: English, German, Latin, and Ancient Greek. I was feeling a bit like a mental midget next to her, but her gracious humility and gentle humor quickly soothed my silly male ego.

Once over on the west side, we took a subway down to Rockerfeller Center. There we got to see the famous ice rink, the massive Christmas tree, and the equally massive throngs of people. We quickly retreated from the rising tide of humanity back into the subway and emerged just north of Greenwich Village. I shanghaied her into my favorite store these days, Purple Passion, one of the best boutiques for all things fetish and SM, and the source of my good ropes. We browsed through the various fashions and Conny looked at corsets like the one on the domme from Nouvelle Justine the night before. Of course, I offered considerable encouragement, even suggesting the gift of a small crop for her open-minded friend Helmut. In the end, it was I who actually ended up walking out with the crop. I had been meaning to pick one up any way.

We left Purple Passion and headed into the heart of the Village and lunch was on our agenda, it being almost 3PM by now. I was hoping to stumble across a funky pizza place that had a bit of charm, but we ended up in a little trattoria and did the pasta thing instead. Over lunch, we agreed that it would be good to head home shortly to relax for a bit, since we had a full night ahead of us.

More soon.



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