And after that I have seen and heard almost nothing of Tingting. But this is good; breaking it off before I was ready to makes it linger in the memory; ending before I got tired of her keeps it fresh. And her dumping me -- which was something new -- gives it an added sense of piquancy. Thus my relationship with Tingting still resonates within me, still shapes me, whereas my relationships with other women, relationships that I chose to let die, are largely forgotten.
One such relationship was with Lucy; and so wholly have I forgotten her that did I not keep a diary I would find little to say here. She was 22 or 23, cute but not remarkably so, and while I remember seducing her quite clearly (for the way in which I got her to bed was something new for me) I cannot quite clearly recall how I met her. It does not matter; I could tell as soon as I met her she liked the look of me, and thus I invited her to meet me for coffee to ‘practice her English'. We did this one time, and chatted easy enough, and I could see the interest in her eyes. So I suggested we meet again in due course, and so we did.
On the way to meet her this second time she messaged me, to say that as the coffee bar we'd agreed on was so busy she was in the upstairs section. Right then that struck me as strange; after all, same time last week, when I took someone else there, it was quiet, as it had been the six, eight weekends before that when I had rendezvoused with a different woman, Gloria, whom I will get to talking about in due course.
Later it became clear why she'd claimed downstairs was busy. This time, like last, I knew was rather taken by me. And again since I could see it, I pushed it. So when she asked me how to spell or say something, I said I would have to charge her 10 yuan, or a kiss; at which she leaned forward and kissed me, on my lips, her mouth a little open. And this made her choice of seat quite clear; it was hidden away in the furthermost corner of the bar, behind a medium height dividing wall which, though transparent, was filled with plastic plants and added extra privacy. And so we dallied thus, talking, learning, sure, but with more hand contact, and eye, and then lips.. until this pair I cursed as idiots and fools took the table on the other side of the wall, curtailing her willingness to flirt.
So I suggested a walk in the nearby park, and she was glad for that too. I confess, I had planned this with another woman I was then chasing, for a down-home dinner at a family run little restaurant I know nearby, followed by a walk in this park, wherein I would kiss her. But as Lucy was at hand, and, though nothing so complex in the reaction she evoked in me, she was nonetheless desirable, she answered instead.
Thus we walked hand in hand through the park, along what might have been to her a random path but was in fact in search of a suitably quite corner (no easy thing in a city center on a pleasant day). She anyway said ‘Let's sit' just as I found a place that was suitable. So sit we did. And I began my shtick, scooping her in my arms, kissing her. She was expecting or hoping for it, I guess, and responded, with unease, nervousness, which melted as I kissed deeper, as she got into it. Though not melted wholly, since the tread of passing footsteps cooled her, made her pull away. But from clinch to kiss and away again, she got more hot, until she forgot the stars, forgot the sky, only thought of the body, the passion. I moved slow at first, just laying a hand over her breast as I kissed her. And, there being no demur, I caressed soft, to firmer, to my hand under her silk qipao top, atop her bra, and then a finger under. She jumped and quivered, sighed and open-mouthed pressed against me, stuttering, half-breathing ohmygods and mmms. She broke herself from it after a moment but, sure she was filled with it still, I moved her to sit astride my lap and, as she buried her head in my shoulder I eased a finger over the band of her trousers, and down, again first over her panties and then under, the first sexy feel of pubic hair under my finger, then down lower to the real dividing line, the warmth of the body, its wetness. A touch there is so intimate it can't be dismissed as mere play. Her reaction to this was acute, strong.. and but a shadow of how she was later.
It took some moments to bring that future into shape.. I had never done quite this after all, never so rapidly brought it to sex, and so just saying ‘Shall we go to a hotel?' seemed too crude. But that's pretty much what it came to. And first she said no, said she had to go home; so I cajoled, she wavered; and after a few rounds of this she agreed to it, asking, `Will you spend the whole night with me?' My plan had rather been hit and run, but, hey.
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