“I miss you, Sophie.”
“Oh, me too. But you know what? Your scent is still on my fingers, honey.”
“The thought alone makes me wet.”
A satisfied grin appears on my face, as I notice how the fresh memories turn me on, too. I am early and trying to get comfortable on a step-in front of an entrance. Blinded by the sunlight, I close my eyes.
“Are you still in my bed? Half-naked – just as when I left?” I ask and my brain can hardly distinguish memory from fantasy. I hear a soft laugh.
“Yes,” she breathes, “and I long for your touch.” She moans deeply and loudly and I instantly blush. But of course, no one heard us. The road only few meters away hides our conversation by the roaring of cars and the frantic sounds of the big city. We could make love right here and no one would care. Oh, Berlin.
“And you know who else is with me?” she whispers into the phone.
“Mr. Satisfyer?” I guess, and stifle a laugh.
“Ooh, yes!” she moans again, laughing. “See you soon, sunshine. I’m going to let Mr. Satisfyer get me a couple more orgasms, sucking all the energy out of his silicone body. Your bed will still be completely wet when you show up here tonight with a new one-night stand. And you will have white-hot sex on top of my juice and you will feel something between disgusted and superhorny!”
All I hear now is a rhythmic smacking sound. Is she holding the new sex toy to her phone or the phone to her vulva with the toy?
As if from far away, there’s another “Bye! Have fun and say “Hi” to them,” before she hangs up.
Grinning happily, I lower my smartphone and lean against the wall behind me.
With a sigh, I imagine how the Satisfyer surrounds the clitoris of my partner and sucks her rhythmically to her climax. My vulva fills up just at the thought of it. I have the great desire to simply cancel my appointment and quickly crawl back into my bed to join her.
I open my eyes. The last rays of sun paint the sky pink. I rummage in my bag for my eReader. What better disguise for erotica than this electrical device? And if not having sex myself, at least I want to read about it.
She moaned while she sat down on his hard cock and felt her pussy full and whole-
I stop in the middle of the sentence and pause reading.
I feel observed and look around carefully. Was there someone around?
Indeed. I discover a tall, thin man. He looks at me questioningly and slowly walks past me, always looking at the display of his smartphone. Is he looking for something? Or someone? He glances away again and continues pacing.
I shake my head as if to get rid of the distraction. Where was I?
… felt how he filled her pussy all the way up. She lifted and lowered her pelvis with a smacking sound and let his penis slide back and forth between her bulging lips. He sensitively puts his fingertips on her clitoris and started rubbing. It made her incredibly…
Again, I freeze and raise my gaze. Again, I feel observed. My searching gaze falls once more on the man who has come back again and this time is walking in the other direction. What is this guy doing?
Suddenly, he turns resolutely and looks directly at me. He smiles shyly and comes closer. Maybe he wants directions?
“Hey!” his voice sounds velvety and his eyes are fixed on me.
Carefully and with a strangely emphatic firm voice, he asks me in English if I am Rebecca. What? Rebecca? What makes him think that?
His eyes are scanning me curiously. Is this guy checking me out right now? Strangely feeling attracted to him, I laugh and shake my head.
Also in English, I reply that I am not the person he seems to be looking for.
Why would I be Rebecca? He was obviously embarrassed to have falsely accosted me.
“Uh-oh. Uh… okay. Thanks. Have a nice day!” He apologizes before turning back and settling down on another flight of stairs a few feet away from me. He focuses all his attention in his phone.
Rebecca? Who is that? And why does he think it’s me?
I still ponder this question a little and can hardly concentrate on the text.
Does he have a first date? And the pictures of Rebecca’s online profile are so blurred by filters that it could be any woman with long brown hair?
I feel sorry for him right away. I hope Rebecca shows up soon. Then I might as well take a look at her and investigate our resemblance.
Which platform do the two of them met through? These days there are different apps for everything. And they all promise less loneliness and a good time. Some with more promises of big emotions, some with more sex.
I fantasize about a fictitious conversation that must have been written by the thousands in Tinder’s database. A trivial conversation, a little more depth than a nice small talk and then the brash question if the one might like to have a conversation in the real world. I myself had already co-fabricated such chats, which reminds me that I could take care of a date again. But maybe I would meet someone else in the bar on this lukewa…