What She Did To Me (5Five5)

What she did to Me.
The meeting had been scheduled at around 10 of this drizzly, dull Sunday morning.
This had been decided the night before after a long and tedious confrontation in the counter of a dim and cacophonic, but somehow extremely relaxing wine bar located in the tenth floor of a shabby building five minutes away from the station. Was it really the place that allowed me to be at ease or was it the weight of her body pressing against my body, proving this was real?

The reason for the argument had not changed from the previous already uncountable times during the last six months; As her eyes saw it, a step forward in this relation, as for me a leap into a deep swallowing abyss. Each time I thought about it, even if I adored her shapes, was devoted to the texture of her hair and skin, loved the sensation when kissing her soft neck and inspiring the invasive fragrance expelled by her pores and found highly pleasant the hours we spent together, the idea of compromise and marriage, once again, seemed far, too far away.

Nonetheless, after four glasses of red wine that felt like silk in the palate, completed with a portion of oak smoked ham next to tiny squares of Roquefort for me, three glasses of foamy draft beer and a beautiful array of breaded shrimp for her, an overprized bill settled, shouts from the throats of the waiters thanking, asking us to be careful on the way home and almost begging us to come back soon, a hundred steps backwards to the station, some empty thanks for the time spent together, and a couple of emotionless hugs, I found my tongue as deep inside her mouth as her fingernails were inside the flesh of my back. It is true I might say, passion with her felt good. The fixed eyes with the mixed feeling of disgust and jealousy of Passers-by watching our seemingly eternal embrace against the surprisingly neat wall of that puzzling collection of tunnels made me savor the moment feeling extremely empowered.

I would not let her go, even though I was not ready to offer her anything else in exchange, still my warm fingers crawling inside her soft flesh hindered me from being reasonable. She was about to leave the man and would have done it right away if I had asked for it, but my selfishness told me to possess her without making her my possession.

We met the following gray and rainy day at around 10 a.m. as planned. The ravenous desire I had for her pulled my out of my sleep earlier than I expected; by seven I was already trying to keep my heart inside my chest, with my eyes wide open and sweat dripping from my forehead. I fancied feeling her warmth on top of me, beneath me, next to me. As a result, I got to the meeting point, a massive train station gulping in as many as 2 million souls every single day, much earlier. Looking around a huge foreign neighborhood for a good get-in cheap hotel to spend the morning with her was the best pastime I could come up with. However, after some burdensome 50 minutes or so, I decided to go backwards and wait for my lady to show up. Rain was pouring down in a non-stop deluge, but even that didn’t’ risk drowning my ever-growing desire. My coat felt as twice as heavy and cold was piercing through my bones in a caustic way but just picturing her sticky lips approaching mine made it worth the wait. After a short call announcing the parade, there she was coming up the escalator, with her hair done, her white teeth and eyes shining at me, wearing a fully spotted black and white blouse and an orange short skirt.