I Am a Hopeless Romantic
Small city. Lazy city. Flies are dying, cruising. Boredness. A few streets crossed here and there. Some cars are moving. No traffic at all. Not much is happening. Not much at all. A place where the devil says, “Good night”. It is like that since many centuries. A place that is sentenced for slow death without parole. Lazy city. Dead city.
He took a place by the window.
Bright is good. Better than in a dump spot. You can watch the side walk. Maybe somebody will walk by. Anything. I hate small cities. Knitting is better than that.
"What would you like to have?" She was looking at him with a casual smile on her face.
"Well I don’t know yet," he said. "I will check the menu and would get back to you."
He was looking in her eyes intensely. He did not know why. He was not expecting anything. It just happened. She noticed that. She posed. She changed. Now she gave him some attention. It came with an innocent smile. She moved a little bit closer but still staying in the frame of her previous behavior.
"Is this place owned by Russians?" He asked moving his hand on the table closer to her."I saw a poster by the entrance," he added. "I would like to eat something European."
"It was Russian," she replied. "But it was bought recently by Germans. We don’t have any Russian dishes at the moment." She was saying all this while looking at him constantly like she wanted to see through him.
"Are you a German?" He asked thinking about how beautiful she would be naked.
"No. Canadian…Irish. How about you? Russian?" She started playing with her pen, squeezing it and touching the top of it from time to time.
"No. I am European…," he never wanted to tell her.
"Russian?" She asked decisively putting her finger on top of the pen.
"Polish," he said. She was so into him with this Russian question that he felt her in his bones. "Just visiting the area with family," he lied. "My wife went with the kids to see the waterfalls." He was saying this and picturing her laying in front of him with her legs wide open.
"Do you like to live here?" he asked.
"Yes," she said. "Very much so. It is a small place, everybody knows each other. We are very friendly people. A very close community. Everybody is friends here. She bit her lips and looked at him as if saying, “If you know what I mean."
"My wife is…" he continued but was thinking, 'God - I want to feel her wetness.'
She stopped him in his tracks. She did not let him finish. She bent over him and then he could smell her and see her bra and asked, "Do you want ****?"
He took a place by the window.
Bright is good. Better than in a dump spot. You can watch the side walk. Maybe somebody will walk by. Anything. I hate small cities. Knitting is better than that.
"What would you like to have?" She was looking at him with a casual smile on her face.
"Well I don’t know yet," he said. "I will check the menu and would get back to you."
He was looking in her eyes intensely. He did not know why. He was not expecting anything. It just happened. She noticed that. She posed. She changed. Now she gave him some attention. It came with an innocent smile. She moved a little bit closer but still staying in the fr
"Is this place owned by Russians?" He asked moving his hand on the table closer to her."I saw a poster by the entrance," he added. "I would like to eat something European."
"It was Russian," she replied. "But it was bought recently by Germans. We don’t have any Russian dishes at the moment." She was saying all this while looking at him constantly like she wanted to see through him.
"Are you a German?" He asked thinking about how beautiful she would be naked.
"No. Canadian…Irish. How about you? Russian?" She started playing with her pen, squeezing it and touching the top of it from time to time.
"No. I am European…," he never wanted to tell her.
"Russian?" She asked decisively putting her finger on top of the pen.
"Polish," he said. She was so into him with this Russian question that he felt her in his bones. "Just visiting the area with family," he lied. "My wife went with the kids to see the waterfalls." He was saying this and picturing her laying in front of him with her legs wide open.
"Do you like to live here?" he asked.
"Yes," she said. "Very much so. It is a small place, everybody knows each other. We are very friendly people. A very close community. Everybody is friends here. She bit her lips and looked at him as if saying, “If you know what I mean."
"My wife is…" he continued but was thinking, 'God - I want to feel her wetness.'
She stopped him in his tracks. She did not let him finish. She bent over him and then he could smell her and see her bra and asked, "Do you want ****?"
By:
Bolek
Age:
41-45
,
Male
