Présentation de l'éditeur
Excerpt:
I feel embarrassed. Here I am standing, in a dress that borders on being skimpy, in stockings and high heels. I could just as well be a call girl. At least, I don't think I would dress differently if I were working for an escort service. But I am no call girl. I don't get money for being here. All I will get is maybe – hopefully – answers to some questions that have been bothering me for a long time.
My knees are trembling, my palms are sweaty, and my cheeks are burning. I feel like being devoured by the men in the bar, I can feel their eyes on me, trying to undress me until I'm standing here naked. And that is pretty much how I feel; naked. And what's most disturbing, I don't entirely dislike it. In fact, I'm beginning to like it and hate it at the same time. To make it short: My feelings are in turmoil.
It feels good to be desired, and I feel ashamed to look like a whore, even if it's not a cheap one. But then, I shouldn't wonder too much about the man staring. After all, that's what this outfit is about: To look sexy, to display that I'm not only a clumsy student of German studies, but also a desirable woman. The man which I'm about to meet was clear on that: “I want you to look sexy. I want you to turn heads; I want the guys staring at you, wanting you “he said in the chatter when we fixed the details for this evening.
We have chatted many hours, exchanged our points of view, told each other of our ideas, fantasies, limits and so on. Of course, I don't have real limits, since I never had the opportunity to try out my fantasies in reality before. He's much more experienced, living a BDSM lifestyle for many years. And he's older too, 44 to be exact. Not old enough to be my father, but still almost twenty years older than me. I liked his calm, thoughtful way from the beginning. Unlike other guys I have met online, he never asked me about personal things I didn't chose to disclose myself. He never tried to talk me into cybersex like others. “You're like a desert flower, they can wait for years for rain and then they suddenly bloom beautifully. I don't know when it's going to rain in your part of the desert, but it will one day. And then you will come to life and bloom “he wrote me one day.
Much later I wrote him back that I need rain that I want to bloom now. Again sometime later he offered to meet me, “to “be the rain for a night”. It took me about three weeks to decide that I wanted to take his offer and he himself told me what precautions I should take “because there are crazy freaks out there, and you can't be sure I am not one of them. “
Now I'm standing in front of the man I planned so long to meet and I feel awkward and embarrassed. I took every precaution to make that meeting save. I'm supposed to call my brother later and tell him that I'm fine. If I don't, he'll come to the hotel where I am, getting me out of here. He also knows who I am meeting.
So I feel safe, but also embarrassed and very nervous. It's the first time I am meeting someone in the flesh who knows about my feelings and fantasies, someone who knows who and what I really am, someone who knows that I am ready to bring these fantasies into reality.
Length 8000 words
I feel embarrassed. Here I am standing, in a dress that borders on being skimpy, in stockings and high heels. I could just as well be a call girl. At least, I don't think I would dress differently if I were working for an escort service. But I am no call girl. I don't get money for being here. All I will get is maybe – hopefully – answers to some questions that have been bothering me for a long time.
My knees are trembling, my palms are sweaty, and my cheeks are burning. I feel like being devoured by the men in the bar, I can feel their eyes on me, trying to undress me until I'm standing here naked. And that is pretty much how I feel; naked. And what's most disturbing, I don't entirely dislike it. In fact, I'm beginning to like it and hate it at the same time. To make it short: My feelings are in turmoil.
It feels good to be desired, and I feel ashamed to look like a whore, even if it's not a cheap one. But then, I shouldn't wonder too much about the man staring. After all, that's what this outfit is about: To look sexy, to display that I'm not only a clumsy student of German studies, but also a desirable woman. The man which I'm about to meet was clear on that: “I want you to look sexy. I want you to turn heads; I want the guys staring at you, wanting you “he said in the chatter when we fixed the details for this evening.
We have chatted many hours, exchanged our points of view, told each other of our ideas, fantasies, limits and so on. Of course, I don't have real limits, since I never had the opportunity to try out my fantasies in reality before. He's much more experienced, living a BDSM lifestyle for many years. And he's older too, 44 to be exact. Not old enough to be my father, but still almost twenty years older than me. I liked his calm, thoughtful way from the beginning. Unlike other guys I have met online, he never asked me about personal things I didn't chose to disclose myself. He never tried to talk me into cybersex like others. “You're like a desert flower, they can wait for years for rain and then they suddenly bloom beautifully. I don't know when it's going to rain in your part of the desert, but it will one day. And then you will come to life and bloom “he wrote me one day.
Much later I wrote him back that I need rain that I want to bloom now. Again sometime later he offered to meet me, “to “be the rain for a night”. It took me about three weeks to decide that I wanted to take his offer and he himself told me what precautions I should take “because there are crazy freaks out there, and you can't be sure I am not one of them. “
Now I'm standing in front of the man I planned so long to meet and I feel awkward and embarrassed. I took every precaution to make that meeting save. I'm supposed to call my brother later and tell him that I'm fine. If I don't, he'll come to the hotel where I am, getting me out of here. He also knows who I am meeting.
So I feel safe, but also embarrassed and very nervous. It's the first time I am meeting someone in the flesh who knows about my feelings and fantasies, someone who knows who and what I really am, someone who knows that I am ready to bring these fantasies into reality.
Length 8000 words
