How I risked everything to please you
party, a woman, a man. The classic among the introductory stories. And yet somehow different. At least that’s what it felt like. Me, 30, married, child. He, 26, taken. Any normal person would shake their head now – but the attraction was too great. The first change of gaze too intense. And when we stumbled over each other, it could no longer be avoided.
Me, 30, married, child. He, 26, taken. Any normal person would shake their head now – but the attraction was too great.
Less than 15 minutes later we were holding each other outside. Our bodies wanted to feel, dance and forget. Enjoy this one moment that has been given to us. I trembled with every touch and at some point the lines blurred.
At some point we became one, even if I fought for a long time. Didn’t want to allow it. But it felt so good. I’ve felt like I’ve never felt before. It was a roller coaster of touch. Each felt different.
The next morning
We held each other all night. And looked us in the eye in the morning. There was something there, something particularly unique. At least I believed it. You told me you like my smile I told you how wonderfully deep brown your eyes are. You told me that I remembered your ex. I was flattered that she meant so much to you. And somehow not.
We held each other all night. And looked us in the eye in the morning. There was something there, something particularly unique. At least I believed it.
You told me you wanted to see me again. I told you it couldn’t be done. We talked about all the superficial and deep things. And then we left. Separated from each other. Without saying goodbye. Simply that way.
Not without you
I hardly wrote you on the way home. That I already miss you You were happy. At least that’s how I understood it. And after a few days we had an appointment. A date when we will see each other again. It was confusing and exciting at the same time. Back in everyday life and the thoughts are only ever with this one person who is not your husband. And I thought it was the same with both of us. But as it turned out, it wasn’t.
It was confusing and exciting at the same time. Back in everyday life and the thoughts are only ever with this one person who is not your husband.
We saw each other again. In the hotel room, another classic. We couldn’t keep our fingers off each other, fell upon each other like animals. Then lay naked next to each other, arm in arm. Felt that one song with everything that goes with it. You looked me in the eye and I looked you. We were in this fragile little bubble where every moment was perfect.
The slap in the face
And then the bubble burst. You were hungry, and I was a little too. Then you said by the way that we are not allowed to touch outside. That you have other women who could see us. And I heard that loud crack. This tear in my heart, although it was actually still too early for such feelings. But since when do feelings think rationally?
I tried to cover it up, I told myself it was all about this damn good sex. We were eating, he yawned and yawned, his eyes wandered and rarely came back to me. I was joking about his women’s stories. And he showed me pictures. And I felt bad. Not good enough. And what did i do I invited him to dinner, after all, he paid for the hotel room. Self-esteem? Goodbye.
I tried to cover it up, I told myself it was all about this damn good sex. We were eating, he yawned and yawned, his eyes wandered and rarely came back to me.
And yet I couldn’t let go. After all, he gave me what I missed in marriage. To be seen, to be felt. Even if that was only possible in the bladder. And I’m back with him in the hotel room. We were arm in arm and it felt so damn good. So that I was willing to ignore everything else. So that at 5:45 am we made our hotel room happy with our squeaky bed. And the next morning he saw only me again, shared his insides with me and it felt like we would know each other forever.
The final line
Hardly at home did I notice how much I miss him. And how bad he is doing me. I let him know I can’t. That I am too valuable to myself.
Hardly at home did I notice how much I miss him. And how bad he is doing me. I let him know I can’t.
And yet I want him to write to me every day. That he tells me that he wants to see me again. That he tells me things that he doesn’t tell anyone else. And every day that he doesn’t answer, my heart breaks a little further. Because two nights can be damn intense.