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AFF In The Mirror
AFF In The Mirror
I had not been online for a while. But nervousness was not iminate. The AdultFriendFinder window opened instantly with no delay, and the old familiar feeling came up again at once. It was a return back home. I was not sure where to start, so I entered the Eurotub. It was full as ever, Babel had improved, and so, in spite of the broad variety of languages being spoken, everyone communicated with the other. My fellow Germans gave me a warm welcome, and I did a bit of chatting with some girl in Hungarian.
It was not that I really had an urge to escape into some cyber world. I just loved these evenings - the sun at the horizon slowly set, and you could still smell the scent of jasmine in the warm summer air. Everything seemed painted in gold and orange, and with the terasse door open I sat there, enjoying. It had been a hard day, exeptionally, my shares had been about to decline in value, but my broker could avoid any of the worse. I had a quick look on my Rolex - the Chromachron had given up and got repaired - and 20 : 00 seemed just a perfect time for this. I was relaxed: the gold dot in front of my handle proved that I had something to offer - the villa, the wiessmann roadster, options to dine poshly, to enjoy life in every aspect together with a partner. I was optimistic, as optimistic as I悲 always been, right from the start here.
A young girl came in. She seemed vivid, full of life, youthful and still showing that maturity which can make a person so desirable. A few of the young men gave her an instant hello, yet she just smiled back and remained rather calm. The chatting went on. Every now and then new people came in and left again. Some seemed quite new to this, but, for example, when once someone shouted by having the caps locked, a friendly Spanish person calmly and politely told him to unlock them, which the very person did, not without bading a hundred thanks, and the conversation went on in civilized ways.
There, by now, at 20 : 20, were about 73 people in the tub. A French told the present about his newly bought house on Corsica, a man from Norway shared recipes for blueberry cake with a woman from Italy. In the corner two men from Cypres discussed politics. Angie, the young girl, remained calm all the while. She politely answered any questions, but repelled any further invitaion. I had grown curious about her, asked if everything was alright, and she said that she was ok. For a while I watched her handle in front of her line go further down the page until it disappeared down below. Then I scrolled down, caught it and clicked on it.
In the grey mass of life there are moments in which a gate opens. A gate to something which, unexpectedly and only for the unprepared, displays the contrast to the grey mist in which life so often takes place. It is as if, for seconds, the unprepared bygoner is lead to a little world beside the way, as if the universe shows mercy and generosity for a little moment and therefore lets us have a little glimpse on the beauty which mostly is so hidden from our eyes. It is as if paradise is opened for a second before it closes again, just long enough to let us have a look at the promised.
The girl on the page looked like an angel. Her soft skin was neither pale nor tanned, there was nothing artificial or sickly about it. She sat there, naked, with her legs close to her body, her head rested calmly on her right shoulder. The collar-bone displayed a clear line to this shoulder, yet the woman did not seem skinny. Her belly was flat, firm, and her smooth waists just declined a bit from her chest before they came to form some wider but still lean hips, which however seemed to have strenght. Her arms held the knees, her breasts were round and firm. Her lap showed a soft line between two soft lips. And although it could not really be made out if there still was some hair left or not, this vulva seemed to promise all a man would live for, in a way both timid and challenging, appealing.
The girl愀 face showed clear, fine lines, and the golden hair which fell down into her face could not hide two clear greenish-blue eyes.
There was no sternness on her face, she clearly and calmly looked into the distance, maybe out into the bright daylight which charmed her body on that photo in return. I was stunned. It seemed clear to me that this woman could sit there for some hundred years and yet would not change. She was a symbol for the eternity of beauty.
I turned my looks away from the photo and read the text. And here I found the explanation for her calmness. The men that had tried to get closer to her in the chatroom had all been in their early twenties or last teenage years. The girl itself was not a lot older, even younger partly. But in the profile it read that she, although she would hate to hurt someone愀 feelings, would prefer a good looking man, a grown-up and physically fit man between 30 and 40. That she would not rate such a man mature, but just normal, the way a man should be, and that she had made the experience that the cleanness of this generation was more a turn on than the seeming hipness of younger males. She also added that she would enjoy a cultivated talk with a person, same as she thought that dirty talk would be possible best with this group, and that this was the reason why she had made her choice. She mentioned the couch-potatoes between 18 and 30, and that she had made the experience that such a person was rarely to be found among her desired group.
She had an age-limit: no males under 30. And this was the reason for her calmness.
I looked at the profile for another few seconds and then returned to the eurotub. Angie had been gone in the meanwhile, but I was sure that she would show up again some time.
I left the tub and started the IMC. Various names ran over my screen, and I browsed through the profiles behind them. Once again there were many who looked for a new experience. New experiences in these days seemed as vital as food and water, and I read a few lines. "Hello, this is hottie85uk. I惴 a cute brunette gal from london and have had sex so far quite frequently, but now I would be interested in something new and try out my bisexual sides. So hey, if you like my profile and pic just drop me a line. NO GIRLS !! Sorry ladies, but I扉e had enough of you, I悲 like to try it with a man for a change." ... "Hi there, this is jennyberlin88, I斐m up for something new - so any cute gentle male out there mail me..." ... " BiBianca - can you feel the shudder when soft touches soft?"
For some it had been a fact hard to accept, almost any bisexual girl had made her sexual experiences exclusively with women so far. All their youth they had dealt with girls, explored sex, had had affairs and relationships with females. But now, at once, in the days of sexual freedom, these women demanded to break with the usual and live out their hidden sides. They at once didn愒 follow the rule any more, they did not lead that life of a bisexual woman any more. They broke with the classical role, repelled women and charmed the men. They wanted gentle male lovers, they refused to limit themselves down on a one-sided sex life with other women - but wanted to live out their bisexuality. There had been fights in the Eurotub about this, between jealous and hurt women and those who took their right to try something new. And only few had so far come to grips with it.
It was 21 : 00 now. The sun had set, and a full moon shone onto my terasse. I thoughtfully looked at all these contact addies, thought about all the unfulfilled longings and desires. And I might have even answered, but a 35 year old homosexual male could certainly not have been the person to fulfill these women愀 dreams.
10/25/2005 3:38 am
Very nice piece of writing... very nice indeed...|