Chapter Three

I leave him without really looking at him and head for the corridor with the red lights signaling the bathrooms. I enter the door of the women's bathroom and notice that even though it is a single room, it is as spacious and luxurious as everything else in the place. I take a deep breath, the large mirror revealing my nervous face and my makeup intact, at least that much.

Flashes of memories invade my mind at the sight of this man, the gray strands of his hair, the beard present in a way that made me want to scrape my fingers there, my cheeks, my chin, the fantasy of his touch sending me into a state of euphoria. I felt the skin of my face tingle with the absence of the never experienced touch, my lips parted in search of the air I lacked, I slide my hand around my breasts, feeling my stiff nipples rubbing against the fabric of the red dress, the pointed protuberance was visible and this excited me even more, my subconscious wondering what his reaction would be if he saw me like this. I squeeze it out to scold myself, but all I get is a wave of pleasure that fills my belly and travels down between my thighs. I bite my lips and imagine the man's broad arms wrapped around my silhouette, his lips touching the skin of my neck like a promise, his body behind me, his thighs pressing against my legs, the stiffness of his...

A knock at the door makes me shudder as I recognize my reflection. How long was I standing there? I touched my hair lightly before opening the door and meeting those now dark, questioning eyes. Our bodies just inches apart took me out of my state of rationality, my body begged, screamed, and it felt good. The man's right hand rested on the door frame as a clear sign that I could not run. At no point did I consider running away. I swallow dryly, a mixture of shame, anticipation, and alcohol written all over my face.

"I always screw up with my frustrations. Oh, you expect something from me, don't you?" He doesn't say a word, he seems only interested in what I have to say. Like an animal studying its prey. "Maybe it's because this place encourages it all...The lights, the alcohol, the atmosphere, it's all an obvious attempt to make people feel like...they can do something."

"You don't like that?" The voice sounds like a whisper to me alone, I find myself motionless in the same place, my eyes almost forced to focus on everything but his lips. His body slowly approaches a step forward enough for me to feel his scent and the warm breath of alcohol on my face. The man tilted his head, his relaxed posture saying something, but his face contained seriousness and almost palpable intensity. He had taken off his jacket and now I had a full view of his broad chest under his social shirt, the sleeves rolled up a bit above the wrist, I could see the partially covered design of an old tattoo that made me doubt how many more he might have, I wanted to trace each one with my fingers. There was something rustic and restrained, yet masculine and stiff that worked together. I search for the words that would probably please a man and can't find them, so I tell the truth.

"I'm afraid I'm starting to like it more than I should..." My mouth goes dry, the words come out softly but surely. I was standing there, burning with excitement, flirting with a much older man whose name was unknown to me. The worst part was that I really liked this first fact, and maybe I don't want to hold the brakes, maybe I feel that I can do something. I move closer to his body, my silhouette stuck to his like a magnet, and I notice that his hands are gripping the door frame. I smile triumphantly at the discovery that I am free to do this and blink slowly, a little numb from the taste of alcohol in my mouth. "But you like it, huh? You've liked it for so long that it makes you sick, all this tires you. Is that why you bump into women so rudely? Is it a new approach? Yes, you want to feel a new sensation." The words are spat out as a tease, a small chuckle leaving my lips as I keep my eyes firmly on his. "Is this how you usually get them into your bed?"

His body looked tense, a great effort on his part was what I could see. He was like a caged beast trying to control himself and it was clear now. I challenge him with my gaze, but that body seems to be moving, so I retreat into the bathroom. His hand slowly pushed the door open, finally slamming it shut with a muffled sound, the fact that it was not an act of violence frightening me more than if it had been. The man seemed controlled and aware of his actions, his control showing the lack of mine.

"No, it's usually more practical with older women. They know what they want, you talk and think too much." The force of his words is like nails digging into my skin, I feel anger, shame, and an overwhelming need to prove otherwise. I mentally curse him, hugging my waist with one arm while controlling my breathing. I feel attacked by his calm words.

"You have no idea what I want, not caring that I speak or think shows me how shallow you can be." I raise my tone with the force of my anger against him. "And it's sad that you have to bathe in perfume and wear expensive clothes to hide it."

"I didn't say I didn't like it, I just stated..." His voice silences me, breathless and low as if I had not directly insulted him, he moves closer, my back touching the wall, trapping me there. Now his eyes stare down at me from above, so close that I am enveloped in their warmth. I inhale the air I lack and blink slowly, almost begging, his voice hypnotizing my mind and body. "You talk too much, dear, yes. And god…good." A sigh escapes my lips and my body stirs restlessly in a mad euphoria, my head tilted to see him well, my eyelids almost closed under the effect of that voice. He smiles, his face so close that I can feel his gray beard sliding down my cheek like a divine gift from the female goddesses. I moan softly at the simple touch that makes me want more.

"Yes, baby girl, you want more? Tell me." He asks for my answer when all I have done is nod my head in agreement, his words were whispered, more like prayers than commands. My hands touch his broad back, silently begging for more.

"I want..."

"Say it."

"I want it all..." I hear a low sigh from him in response, enough to make my legs fail. He slides his beard against my skin again, bringing his lips to mine.

The shock of that tight kiss brought urgency and desperation as if we were both hungry for each other. I press my fingers into his back, his shoulders, the back of his neck, sliding, squeezing, drawing messy lines down his arms, our lips glued together, sipping at each other's flesh, tasting his taste and pulling him against me in hungry fervor. Our tongues touch with passion, my lips sucking, his teeth biting my lower lip with agonizing slowness. I feel his hands on my back, indecisive between my neck and my hips, a tight caress sliding down the side of my body. I feel that... I feel his body pressed against mine and the volume of his pants against my belly.

And I feel close to the abyss, there is the promise of desire and lust, I dare to cling to the forbidden and I surrender to it without question.