Dear Mr. X,
Things are taking interesting turns, in your life and mine. Last Friday I met an ex with whom I am on friendly and slightly cheeky terms. He told me about his current affair and commented in his self-deprecating humor that women had become his hobby but he wouldn’t be able to approach them without the Internet. That piqued my interest, and the next morning I set up a profile on this website. My profile picture was almost demure: just a part of my face, my fingers covering a beauty spot and a bit of my clothed shoulder. My text was also very specific and maybe a bit aloof, but purposefully so in order to put off certain types.
I guess because I was featured as a new user, I was inundated by emails. Some people I wouldn’t touch with a stick wanted to have sex with me, and there were also some dinner invitations and some nice approaches. In the beginning I answered most of them in a friendly manner, and I almost overlooked an interesting message from a man who was looking for a woman for himself and his girlfriend. A certain intelligence and wit shone through in his messages, his picture was vague but sympathetic, and the description he gave of the lady (a dark, bob-haired, charming 30-year-old) sounded intriguing. Both seemed to be tall, and his body in the photo looked pleasantly chiseled. He told me he was going to attend an art opening with his lady, and that if I’d like to come too, we could play the guessing game. I didn’t go into the details of my short blousy summer dress with the ruffled waist and the slightly retro black suede sandals with a high solid heel, but he knew I would be wearing thick-rimmed glasses and a dress with a dark pattern.
I think I was wet when I arrived at the venue. I decided that I needed a drink. It was a hot evening and riding to the show on my bike, with the seat thrusting into my pelvis, didn’t help the matter. At the bar the typical electronic music was playing. Mr. L, my dear long distance love, would call it “German techno music”, which it was not. I thought about getting an alcoholic drink, but that would have completely put me off balance. Instead I downed a glass of ice tea and walked through the show hardly looking at the art but searching for the man. When I recognized him I decided to stand close but turn my back to him. When I turned around we looked at each other like accomplices, then grinned and greeted each other. I was pleasantly surprised. He was better looking that I had expected – very tall, and his slightly crooked teeth only added to his charm. He asked me if I had seen the whole show and if I would be around a bit longer, then excused himself.
I walked through the rooms in nervous anticipation. I felt so sexed up that I thought all the men – and some women – could sense what I was up to: actually not unlike what your wife described when she was at the cafe without wearing her panties. It was on the metal stairs to the platform that I met him. He walked up them with me to where three SUVs were exhibited as sculptures. I was dizzy, probably also due to the height. We were smiling at each other, and I was blushing and looking away in sudden surges of timidity.
His lady was waiting for him close to the bar with some of her girlfriends. He told me that I was going to be a surprise, but a welcome one. When we got to her group, the lady was gone, so I began making small talk with her girlfriends, with him standing next to me and smiling with amusement. Funny how I could function socially. When the lady reappeared, she basically ignored me. She obviously had no idea what I was doing with her girlfriends and close to her boyfriend. She put this “I am the coolest girl in the schoolyard” look into her gaze and mingled with other people. She was jealous and acting cool, but I was waiting for the revelation of the reason I was there.
As soon as her girlfriends left to go to a bar, she asked me what I was doing there. “Well, I guess I work in the arts,” I said defensively. “I guess?” she asked lifting her eyebrows and twisting her lips. “I always need a reason to go to openings,” I said, “and the reason was to meet you.” The man jumped in to help me: “To meet us. Remember I told you on the phone that I would have a surprise for you?” It was great to watch the expression on her face change in less than a second. She laughed – relieved – warmly put her hand on my shoulder, and told me she was sorry. I told her not to worry, that I had been aware that she didn’t know why I was sticking around. She laughed in a sweet way, complained jokingly to her man, and I used the situation to ask them to watch my drink while I went to the bathroom.
There I tried to get a grasp of the situation. Nothing had happened. I was just having a fun evening at an art opening meeting new people. But I felt the excitement from meeting this attractive couple who wanted to have sex with me – he, the whole evening, and she, when her jealousy had been transformed into attraction.
We flirted, he had another drink. I cannot remember what we were talking about to each other and to the artists and friends who seemed to be the last people at the show. I do know that he was casually touching me again and again, and that she and I were looking deeply into each other’s eyes. We decided it was time to go and left together. She put her arm around my hip. He was on her other side, but after a few steps she said that obviously I should be in the middle. And so we walked through the grass to the entrance of the building where my bike was standing. She asked if we were going to meet again, and I answered that the man had planned to cook dinner at his place for the three of us the following week. The lady and I kissed each other softly on the cheek. I tentatively prolonged it by holding the back of her head while doing so. I wanted to seduce her. Then I kissed him close to his mouth, and then I asked her if I could kiss her. I can’t remember whether she said yes or no, but she slightly opened her mouth and I tongue kissed her for a short moment. He got a last peck on his cheek and we parted ways. I saw them walking off hand in hand and smiled to myself. What an evening.
The next morning I got a message from the man saying that it had been a great evening and that I had been absolutely charming. He asked if I was ok and said that they would both like to see me again very very much. We’ll meet at the end of next week. I’ll keep you updated.
I was hot with anticipation to hear how her adventure would develop. But no update came. Weeks passed. I wrote begging for news, but she had disappeared.
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