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I was in the midst of explaining the concept of mathematical differentiation and integration to Lily when Kent suddenly gave me a nudge with his elbow. (I know exchanging beauty tips and the latest meetup experiences would be a more appropriate subject for a Saturday’s night out at San Fran, Bukit Bintang, but it was a extremely hot and humid night, and we didn’t want to get all sweaty talking about men). I turned to look at Kent, and found his eyes fixed on a moving object a few meters away, and with such admiring looks written all over his face, I knew this would definitely be worth it.
So I looked up, in time to catch the object in action. You were wearing a sleeveless tee, semi-concealing what looked like ripples of muscles fresh from a good workout at the gym. The matching jogging pants were thoughtfully baggy so as not to reveal too much of the heavenly tool, which otherwise would further turn up the temperate around the café due to overly excited heat generation from enthusiastic admirers who had now cease all communication and had their full attention to this object.
And then we established eye contact, and time stood still. Next to me, I heard Carol and Lily and the rest let out a muted ‘Ouch’ as sparks hit their skin. 10 meters from each other, we carried on with this most native form of communication channel, you with your slow walk across the length and breath of our coffee table and me seated on my chair with my eight other sisters. And then you disappeared behind a pillar, bringing the contact to a premature termination.
Before my sisters could pinch me for setting parts of their clothes on fire, you reappeared again from behind the pillar, not to walk back to where you came from, but straight at us. We re-established eye contact again as you inched your way forward.
“Hi! Did you wave at me just now?”
I wanted to say I would be too weak to even raise a finger, but was lost for words. I guess you took the momentary lapse of response as a ‘YES!’, and promptly pulled a chair and sat down next to me. I caught sight of your dirty blonde hair and green eyes and started to blush while you began to introduce yourself.
Half way through, as though sensing I needed some time to catch my breath, you walked to the counter to get a drink. With the distraction temporarily off radar, my sisters, who had watched the entire episode with utter disbelief, started questioning if I knew you, and soon the lecture expanded to cover lessons about the dangers of inviting unwanted attention with naughty eyes.
I soon loosen up and got used to seeing a Dutch hunk sitting 5 inches from me, and we talked more. Sorry I couldn’t follow you to Liquid, my sisters preferred not to loose their beauty sleep over a distant thought of hooking up someone in a disco choked with bodylicious male models wannabe.
I saw Lily taking a mental note of registering this as one of the Top 5 subject matter to bring up if we were to run out of juicy conversation topics during our regular café sessions.
BRAVEHEART [80]
2pm on a sunny Saturday afternoon at Causeway Bay restaurant, Low Yatt Plaza. He was dashing himself silly all over the place, one second to place order for a group of sisters who had just arrived, another second to fetch some cut cili padi for a young couple upstairs, and yet another to clear the table for yet more hungry patrons. I wonder what was your source of this seemingly inexhaustible energy.
We were ready to place our order, but waited a further 10 minutes till you walked passed. No other waiters were good enough.
You reluctantly established eye contact. Sorry, I must have stared too hard.
The lights around the ATM machine were quite dim, but in a town that goes to sleep at 7pm, this was the best spot for her. It was month end, somehow the incessant flow of human traffic that had come to perform banking chores just a few meters away seemed unable to intrude her desolate world. Workbook on her lap, she tried her best recalling what was taught earlier today, but then she had spent most of the time standing outside the classroom, cikgu did not seem to fancy her sense of dressing.
Across the road, her little sister was calling out to her. “Mak suruh balik! Ayah dah tidur dah!“ (Mum asked you to go home! Dad is asleep already!)
Emerging from her oblivion, she slowly stood up, and only then did the extent of her piteous existence set in. Walking with a limp, she crossed the road to her sister and gave her a hug. Hands held tight, they walked towards the sea front and slowly disappeared into the night.
The bulge beneath your towel seemed alive, and we were just 30 seconds into foreplay. It was my first day wearing Men 212, I guess you liked it as you lips and nose had lingered around my neck since we entered the cubicle.
You reached down to peel away your towel. I made a mental note to remind Lily that there are indeed exceptions to the statement that hunks are not well endowed down there. The throbbing veins looked like they were ready to burst their load, but held in my hand, I felt no warmth, just a cold, rock solid piece of muscle. I could not understand how you managed to get it this hard, and then I noticed a black ring surrounding the base of your manhood.
Suddenly you asked if you could meet me again. I looked into your eyes and nodded reluctantly. I doubted that you meant what you said. I was right in doubting you, coz I did not hear from you anymore since you disappeared into the night in your red Audi. Must be an overdose of raging testosterone that had caused a temporary delusion of … LOVE?
Men are not wired to tell the truth during sex.
BRAVEHEART [79]
