They had been so wanton in their explorations of each other the previous night, so uninhibited, and now that they had both sobered up he felt kind of embarrassed. She grinned at him, and he his worries were assuaged, her clawed fingers rising up to scratch his head.“What’s with that expression? Are you remembering,” she leaned down to whisper in his ear, “how I fucked you into a whimpering mess?”“I remember things a little differently,” he shot back, pouting at her. She laughed and pulled him deeper into her bust.“Ok, I admit it, you might have gotten a few reactions out of me. You up for a tie-breaker before we set out again?”He hesitated, breathing in the scent of her fluffy chest as she pressed his face into the doughy fat.“As appealing as that might be, no, we need to get out of here.”She sighed, and hugged him tighter for a brief moment, then released him and started to unzip the sleeping bag. He wriggled free and into the freezing air, remembering very quickly that he was still. My hope to ever approach her would be gone.A silly thought because I could never just talk to her and ask her to do to me what she does to the men. It’s just out of the question, unrealistic. So, I will imagine it. And it’s not so bad. My fantasy will surely surpass any reality.Imagine my encounter with her: Me and her in the small café in line to place our orders at the counter.“Hi!”She turns around and smiles a little confused: “Hello! I’m sorry, but do I know you?”I whisper: “No. But I’ve seen you around. I know your business, you know, what you do. The service you offer.”That was the wrong way to start the conversation, I can see it in her eyes. I am not good at this. At conversation. She is surprised and careful. I bet she thinks I’m the wife of one of the men she takes home. So, I quickly add:“I would like to use your services… For myself. If you… offer your services to women, that is.”She relaxes and the room warms up with her smile: “That’s a bit of an unusual way to approach.
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