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Lynette

Part One: Seduction...

By kelvin matchettPublished 6 years ago 5 min read
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Comes in many forms...

Summer city smells: diesel, carbon monoxide, fast food, a feint hint of sewage, vegetable stalls and then....and then.. a pub. Clothes sticking to your back from a very long long... long work. You look inside. Friendly shadows, men subdued, talking in murmurs and the smell... Oh! the smell.. Stale beer, fresh beer and all the glorious stages in between up to and including the last.

You have only to step inside to be bedazzled by it's shade. Take a few steps in and hear the young lady say to you "Yes sir, what can I get you?". There must be other phrases that are more sinfully seductive in this world but at that moment you could not possibly imagine any that would beat it. You avert your eyes from hers and stare at the pumps. She pimps them out like a madam in a brothel "for sirs pleasure" and the high-rolling john lets his preferences be known.

The Scots have a word for the anticipation you feel before tasting a malt whiskey. Well if that is foreplay, then beer is tantric sex. Hops and malt assault your nostrils as liquid hits glass and... like any seductress the better ones make you wait. Even when it is yours, you wait. You wait till its puberty is over and its youthful effervescence has subsided. You wait till you can't wait no more then you take it in your manly fist and dive headlong. All senses alive. Sight, smell, taste and touch as you listen to your thirst.... being quenched.

David craved nothing more. A simple pleasure, a known indulgence. Made no less enjoyable by its familiarity as a morning masturbation session and just as such, solitary endeavor. For this reason he chose an empty table near the ladies, as this was the most isolated. Not that he wasn't gregarious by nature. Just that company would lead to bon ami and that in turn would lead to more than his two drink maximum. Which per force, would deprive him of his right to drive home. Also, he already had bought a liter of vodka for later. Sometimes, experience made David play more to his weakness than to his strengths.

Barely had he roosted at his seat and begun perusing the room when she came in. Heads turning, all eyes looking, hers searching. Finding the ladies, then across the room with purposeful efficiency. Door closed just as quickly. Nothing so unusual about it really. A woman caught short on the high street. Shopping probably? Except that she carried no bags. Maybe someone was minding them outside? The more David pondered this, the more it did not gel. "No bags at all?" and something else. Not sure what but something. He would look into this further when she came out. In the meanwhile he checked out the rest of the room. Men mostly rouge males like himself detached from the herd and sitting here for want of anywhere better to be. Idly looking at the soundless TV or surreptitiously people watching, as he himself was.

The first pint was gone and the second carried over to his table. He had not yet sat down when she came out. "Buy me a drink?" she asked not as a question or demand but more a plea. Wild green eyes bore through his returned stare of amazement but before he could answer she added "vodka, large". "Okay" he muttered and returned to the bar. By now the people watchers were all trying to look without giving the appearance of looking. Eyes suddenly finding the TV so captivating when challenged, only the barmaid looked at them both unabashed and that was with strong disapproval. She had good reasons to. The woman that still stood by his table was a sight: Long black hair not unkempt but not brushed either. A plain light pink t-shirt and short black skirt. That was not what David noticed the most though. It was the smell. The girl smelled of urine. Not just smelled but her whole body reeked of piss. She was very pretty, late 20s. Slim, carried herself well, could be a hooker but David thought not. She did not have the look of those street whores he passed on his way though their districts. Old before they were young. Instead she had the demeanor of a frightened animal, desperately searching for shelter, cover or anywhere to hide. Her eyes darted across the room searching for foes? Friends? Who knew!

Vodka was given and received with a "thank you" but when he motioned her to sit, she shook her head. So as not to seem awkward he stood too. The white spirit was downed in two gulps when she said with the same tone that accompanied the drink request "take me home". This was new territory for David. He had no illusions about his looks or personality. He was not a "looker" or a "pick 'em up easy guy". Just the jokey chap at work, who laughed and said "sex is like riding a bike. I can remember how it's done but I can't be arsed making the effort". Later he would add "and once you get really into it, you end up shaving parts that you wouldn't normally shave and your hands inevitably get covered in oil". A defensemechanism, a default position, humor. Learnt at a young age whilst drowning in the school yard politics. Yes, David made jokes but this was no joke. This was real. At 53, he had only had about half a dozen lovers. A serial monogamist who's last sex was with his ex. A liaison born out of convenience more than passion. These type of things just did not happen to him. He was not sure that these things happened to anybody but it was....

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About the Creator

kelvin matchett

A humble carpenter from the provinces. Tapping keys like a white stick taps walls.

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