The Pahl Paw Patch: Tryst
Nelson Pahl
July 14, 2010
She winks…then smiles, that alluring smile, the one that drew me in fifteen years ago…fifteen years before this life…before her husband and two children, before my confirmed bachelorhood.
Once upon a time, we were as hot as it gets; we smoldered together.
I´d already purchased a two-karat diamond and spent four months designing the setting. I´d put away enough money for a weeklong Honeymoon in Bali. But three days before I was to take possession of the ring…on a romantic river gondola ride…
She told me she needed to "find" herself. Eight months later, she married Daniel.
I spent years trying to recover; it shattered me. I´ve spent most of my life since that day begging my Maker for another chance.
Up until six months ago, we hadn´t spoken in fourteen years, since before her husband and children. During the six months since she looked me up—by way of hourly text messages, daily emails, and weekly phone calls—she´s confessed to me that I´m her "soul-mate", I´m "the one." According to her, she made a mistake marrying Daniel, of deserting me, of "betraying fate," and now she´s restless and uninspired. Not only that, but when Daniel ran the family business into the ground two years earlier, then declared bankruptcy, she had an epic nervous breakdown. Since then, she says, things haven´t been the same.
But now she´s finally come to her senses. She thinks of me all the time; she aches for me; she lives with so much regret every day.
I´ve flown to Toronto from Costa Rica, she from San Francisco. She arrived first and waited just outside my gate, next to a concrete pillar. I take the smile and wink as an invitation and move in. She takes three steps from the pillar, smirks, and opens her arms wide. I step into the waiting embrace. She stands on tip-toes and squeezes with all her might. I´m instantly aroused. She presses her pelvic bone against mine with a mild sigh in my ear, one she ensures no one else in the terminal can hear.
"I´ve missed you so much," she whispers with arms still draped around my neck.
I squeeze, as I whisper, "Me too."
We´re a thousand miles from anyone that knows us, or our current circumstances, so she leans in and consumes my lips with hers. Again, she offers a slight press of her hips into mine. "Mmm," she sighs as she slides her tongue into my mouth.
For her…She wants the whole package this time; if this tryst goes well, if we get along as splendidly as the glory days, if we find the "magic" and still "click," she plans to leave Daniel immediately, gather the kids, and head to my Costa Rican ranch to live out her days with me and my two dogs.
For me…well…
This tryst is nothing more than forty-eight hours of the best grudge sex a man could ever hope for.
But, please, don´t tell her—at least, not yet.
Copyright © 2010 Nelson Pahl
Once upon a time, we were as hot as it gets; we smoldered together.
I´d already purchased a two-karat diamond and spent four months designing the setting. I´d put away enough money for a weeklong Honeymoon in Bali. But three days before I was to take possession of the ring…on a romantic river gondola ride…
She told me she needed to "find" herself. Eight months later, she married Daniel.
I spent years trying to recover; it shattered me. I´ve spent most of my life since that day begging my Maker for another chance.
Up until six months ago, we hadn´t spoken in fourteen years, since before her husband and children. During the six months since she looked me up—by way of hourly text messages, daily emails, and weekly phone calls—she´s confessed to me that I´m her "soul-mate", I´m "the one." According to her, she made a mistake marrying Daniel, of deserting me, of "betraying fate," and now she´s restless and uninspired. Not only that, but when Daniel ran the family business into the ground two years earlier, then declared bankruptcy, she had an epic nervous breakdown. Since then, she says, things haven´t been the same.
But now she´s finally come to her senses. She thinks of me all the time; she aches for me; she lives with so much regret every day.
I´ve flown to Toronto from Costa Rica, she from San Francisco. She arrived first and waited just outside my gate, next to a concrete pillar. I take the smile and wink as an invitation and move in. She takes three steps from the pillar, smirks, and opens her arms wide. I step into the waiting embrace. She stands on tip-toes and squeezes with all her might. I´m instantly aroused. She presses her pelvic bone against mine with a mild sigh in my ear, one she ensures no one else in the terminal can hear.
"I´ve missed you so much," she whispers with arms still draped around my neck.
I squeeze, as I whisper, "Me too."
We´re a thousand miles from anyone that knows us, or our current circumstances, so she leans in and consumes my lips with hers. Again, she offers a slight press of her hips into mine. "Mmm," she sighs as she slides her tongue into my mouth.
For her…She wants the whole package this time; if this tryst goes well, if we get along as splendidly as the glory days, if we find the "magic" and still "click," she plans to leave Daniel immediately, gather the kids, and head to my Costa Rican ranch to live out her days with me and my two dogs.
For me…well…
This tryst is nothing more than forty-eight hours of the best grudge sex a man could ever hope for.
But, please, don´t tell her—at least, not yet.
Copyright © 2010 Nelson Pahl
Print
Email
