Erotic Series by Mary (Part 1)
The pub is crammed and dimmed. A stranger is giving me daring suggestive looks. Oh, what is happening to me?
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The pub is crammed and dimmed. I lean against the counter with a glass of champagne in my hand. Thank God I am not embarrassed to sit alone. I am self-confident and I often go to a pub alone because I am a good company to myself, if not even the best one. I watch the dimmed faces around me, my thoughts are wandering and talk to myself a little. I am tired of everything.
My marriage is not a happy one, I do not have any children or a career, I am not so young anymore, and I have no clue why I returned a look to that guy. He is not even my type. Not that he is so bad, perhaps only a bit too old, around fifty. Anyway, I probably made a mistake and there is nothing going on. I slowly raise my head and look discretely in his direction. Yes, he is still observing me. What if he knows me? No, definitely not. Well, it is perfectly clear what sort of a look he gave me. I stick myself into the counter, because I feel a cut in my stomach.
This guy wants to have sex with me. No doubt. You do not look someone like that if you only like the person. Why do I feel embarrassed now, as if I were a teenager? I am looking to the floor and rubbing my fingers. It cannot be true, no. This however requires a reaction. I can give him a look in a humble way and I can even leave the counter. The worst thing is not doing anything. And that is exactly what happens: nothing. I am not sure, but it is as if I were numb and waiting what will happen next, which is not in my nature. I am ashamed of myself. Where is my self-confidence now? In that moment the waiter puts another drink in front of me – “from the gentleman” – and hints towards my fifty-year old guy. Gentleman. To crack you up, right. Only, there I have it. Now I cannot pretend anymore. I give him a look. He takes his glass and discretely raises it. He does not smile, but once again he throws me a piercing and daring look.
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Poor passive woman. All of my trenches have started collapsing, as if they were from sand. Underneath the sand a new Natalie appears who I do not recognize or I have probably forgotten her. She has taken over my whole body and flattened it. I cannot stop her anymore. She is stronger than me. I raise my glass back in a very refined way.
Then he walks up to me and sits down next to me. He smiles at me and raises his glass again. He has a very nice smile.
I hesitate for a while, so he would not think that I can barely wait. This is a powerful moment. I have to make a decision. His look is demanding and, at the same time, I feel that he will only stay for a few minutes more and then leave. It is then when I notice that I am shivering all over my body.
“Cheers…”
When we dip our lips into drinks, we are still glued together by looking at each other. Now that he is so close to me I feel how forceful this man is. There is something different about him, mysteriously dark and dangerously attractive and, above all, very peaceful. With him I could…
“Would you come with me for a moment? There is something that I would like to show you.”
Why would I go with you to see something, old man, have you gone crazy? Do you think that I am a whore or what. Don’t you know I am married? And how dare you address me as ‘you’. But Natalie says:
“Who are… you?”
“Oh,.... Ernest, Ernie. Nice to meet you…”
He offers me his hand. It is warm and calm. I let him hold me a little bit too long.
With hardly any voice I manage to utter: “What now: Ernest or Ernie?”
“What ever you like,” and again that dangerous and clear look into the eyes, “It is not even important, shall we go?”
What does he mean? Should I just stand up or what? Should I just go with him?
I stand up. He grabs my hand and slowly takes me towards the toilet. I am afraid. What if someone sees me? What are you doing, Natalie? But it is too late. He pulls me into a booth and locks the door.
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