Counting the days now before we leave for Rome. Haven’t had much time to write posts – I still have a ton of cases to look at and reports to write and read. Dry stuff.
I got up early this morning and wrote the piece below, before I got in the car and headed back to the city. Full of holes probably, but better something than nothing. Fortunately that time still haunts me – no not haunt, a better word would be disturbs, or maybe preoccupies my mind, so the images and words are still crystal clear.
….after Lunch with Ingrid 2…..
“I gave it up for a few sweet words and empty praises,” she continued running her finger around the rim of her wine glass and listening to the crystal sing for a moment. “It really didn’t matter what my name was, to him I was just a pair of firm breasts and a tight unused pussy. He was married of course, though I didn’t know it at the time. And to be honest, I’m not sure it would have mattered. I was ripe and ready.
Everybody could smell my newness; my virginity. It marked me out. It’s like having big target painted on your naked back; someone, sometime was going to take it from me. That’s a fact of life. He was the boldest. His eyes were pale blue, he had a hard jaw and straight teeth and he had something about him. I knew that he was the one, even before he smiled and placed a hand on my shoulder. That one gesture marked me. I’d been claimed.”
She stopped and took a long swig of her drink, her eyes in the middle distance as if she was trying to picture the scene in her minds eye. I felt sorry for her.
She lowered her glass, her eyes looking unflinchingly into mine. “He came to my room after the show in New York. He locked the door and proceeded to strip off my clothes, laid me down and went down on me. You know what that’s like, I suppose.”
She smiled and nodded slightly, as if we were exchanging the memory of the first time someone had gone down on me too. “After I’d cum in his mouth, I would have done anything he wanted. And I did. It hurt like buggary the first time he pushed his cock into me, and by morning…… he’d done that to me too. That did hurt like hell. Have you ever bent over and let a man take you up the ass? No, don’t answer. We don’t know each other well enough for me to expect an answer to that.”
I didn’t answer. I don’t think I had to. She could’ve seen in my eyes that I still recalled the immediate pain and the eventual ecstasy.
“When I woke up he’d gone back to his room,” she continued. “There was a note on the pillow- with the words- Wonderful night. You’re very special.”
I read a lot into those five little words. More than was meant. He’d made me a woman, but I was still naïve and trusting and in love with his cock.
I didn’t see him that day, but the twisted smiles on faces, told me that I no longer reeked of virginity, and that everybody knew who had taken it from me and when.
I didn’t care. Being in love meant that nothing would have spoiled my day.”
The waiter came over, interrupting her story. “Are you ladies ready to order?”