Full moon

Oh man, I'm about to pop!

I just went to the mobile toilets again, all occupied still, I almost get the idea that the occupiers live there, no one ever seems to comes out. You wonder what they're all busy doing there for so long, such a visit normally takes me no more than two minutes.

Well, I'll just have to hold it a little longer and try again in about ten minutes.

Today I am at an art fair, situated on a characteristic village square in the middle of a picturesque small village, presenting my glass objects. It's nice summer weather, fortunately not too hot, and it's dry.

It is a fairly large fair and the sanitary facilities are a bit cramped. Not the booths themselves so much, but especially the quantity, there are only three booths and they are unfortunately continuously occupied.

Behind the stall opposite mine is an attractive man who I can hardly take my eyes off of, I estimate him to be about forty-five years old, he seems to be a ceramist.

He, in turn, regularly looks my way with appreciative looks, I notice, and this is clearly not just because of my work.

Sitting on his table is a collection of beautiful thrown pots, vases and bowls, some smaller, but also many very large ones, in the most diverse shapes: spherical; long and high; irregularly shaped; some with handles, a real craftsman, I can see. And all of them finished in different colors and types of crystal glazes, really beautiful. I'm considering going to take a look later, maybe there's something I'd like to buy for myself.

That also offers a convenient opportunity to have a chat with that nice looking guy.

It is currently not busy with visitors, it never is in the morning on this fair, the big crowds always come in the afternoon. I therefore amuse myself with studying the other exhibitors, and my eye in particular repeatedly draws to the man opposite me. He looks attractive, a wild bunch of mixed grey and black curls, cheerful brown eyes, a wide mouth with a beautiful set of teeth. He is also tall, between 1.90 and 1.95 I estimate, broad-shouldered and apparently quite muscular, in short, a lovely view and definitely my type. As I said, he gives me an interested look every now and then, nice, it's been a while since a man looked at me like that. But maybe he's bored too, just like me, and I'm just unavoidably standing there, with my stall opposite his.

Well, ten minutes have passed, it's high time to make another attempt, before a water puddle that is difficult to explain appears under my stall. I now regret the large amount of water I drank during the morning; I should know better by now.

This new attempt also fails, all squares are again, or perhaps still, occupied. Now I'm done with it, the organizers have brought this upon themselves with their wrong frugality, I'm diving into the bushes behind the toilets, I've had enough.

I slip between two booths, checking carefully to see if anyone sees me, apparently not, and make my way into the village woods beyond the market area, looking for a suitable place to drain my excess moisture. I soon spot a small clearing adequately shielded from prying eyes, and with a sigh of relief pull down my jeans and panties and crouch down.

Oh, how wonderful, how liberating! That something as banal as peeing can give such a heavenly feeling of relief! I'm just squeezing out the last drops when I suddenly hear a twig snap. Oh shit, I think, I look around in shock, there is a man a few meters behind me. And of course, it has to be that hot guy who is standing opposite me at the fair. He has a big grin on his face. I quickly hoist up my panties and jeans, I feel to my horror that immediately a heavy blush has appeared on my face.

'Sorry,' he says apologetically, 'I should have let it be known a little earlier that I was also doing my business here, but the need was so urgent, and those stupid cubicles seem to be there just for show, they are constantly inaccessible, I'm starting to wonder if someone just forgot to open them...'

'Yeah,' I say a little pissed off, ignoring the last part of his statement, 'that would have been nice.'

'Sorry again,' he says, it sounds guilty, but his eyes shine mischievously, 'but it was such a beautiful sight, that full moon, I couldn't bring myself to let you know that you weren't alone.'

Well, I guess this wasn't really the way I wanted to get acquainted to him, but it is wat it is. In any case, he clearly finds something of mine very worthwhile to look at, no doubt there.

We walk back to the market area together in silence, I still feel a little embarrassed, and I can see him searching for words, but also not knowing how to deal with the situation.

We position ourselves behind our respective stalls and pretend nothing happened with all our might. I do catch him regularly giving me inquiring looks, sometimes accompanied by an amused smile, he must think I'm very prudish. If only he knew. It almost makes me a little embarrassed, but on the other hand I think, well, why should I be bothered by this. If you have to go, then you have to go, and there is nothing wrong with my ass, quite the opposite. Not with the rest of my body either, by the way, I'm still nice and tight and slim despite my thirty-eight years, my breasts haven't dropped an inch since I was eighteen, despite their considerable size. I decide to put it aside, I look his way again, our eyes meet and I give him a radiant smile with a wink. He laughs out loud, baring a beautiful set of teeth, and winks back, the relief clearly visible in his eyes.

At the end of the morning the fair organizers come by with sandwiches and soup, it heralds the start of a very welcome lunch break, we don't have to be ready again until one o'clock.

My neighbor from the opposite stall, to my unspeakable delight, walks up to me with a sandwich in his hand and asks if I would like to have coffee with him at the local bistro. We can leave our stuff behind without any problems, there is always security on this market and the site is temporarily closed during the lunch break.

I gladly accept the offer, it's so much better than wandering around aimlessly in an almost deserted village, then I'd rather look at a hot guy like this. And since he's already seen my ass... If I'm honest, I'd like to see his as well, he certainly looks quite attractive.

He introduces himself as Ben, and I immediately burst out laughing.

'What's so funny about Ben,' he wants to know, looking at me a bit unsure and also a little offended.

'My name's Jerry,' I say, and he also laughs in response.

'This is how it was supposed to be,' he concludes, 'Ben and Jerry, how are the odds on that? How the hell did you end up with the name Jerry, I thought it was a boy's name?'

'I'm named after the actress who plays Seven of Nine,' I explain, 'my parents were, or rather are, huge Startrek fans. It should actually be Jeri with jay-ee-ar-i, but the civil registrar messed things up a bit, and my father wasn't quite there when the registration was entered, he was so over the moon having his first child. That's why Jerry got two r's and a y. Just like that 1970s fashion model, Jerry Hall, does that mean anything to you?'

'I think I remember her,' he says pensively, 'but I think you're much prettier,' he adds with a broad grin.

I decide not to protest, just smile sweetly at him. You should accept compliments without hesitation, they are usually not so plentiful in this world.

The lunch, or rather coffee break, is very pleasant, he is very amusing company, wonderful sense of humor, and refreshingly down to earth, the conversation does not stop for a moment. Although on this fair he is presenting his ceramic works, he also works in glass fusing, just like me. He knows an awful lot about it, I notice, he may know even more about techniques and the like than I do.

All in all, I really enjoy his company, and he clearly enjoys mine, so when we walk back to our stands together around one o'clock, we both have a cheerful smile on our faces.

In the afternoon it gets really busy, as always at this fair, and I don't have much time to stare at the other side drooling, as was the case in the morning, I'm actually constantly busy informing people about my work, the technique behind it, the creative process and so on. And of course, trying to persuade people to actually buy something, which is always nice. The afternoon flies by, before I know it it's five o'clock. I see Ben walking towards me, he looks a bit shy I see to my amusement, what could he be up to, I wonder.

'I uh,' he stutters, 'I uh,' he clears his throat and clearly gathers courage, I look at him expectantly, 'I would like to give you my telephone number, I really enjoyed our conversation and I thought we might be able to exchange some knowledge and ideas occasionally, if you're open to that.' He hesitates again, then continues: 'And I would also love to come and have a look at your studio if I may.'

'That's totally fine,' I say with a happy smile, 'I think it would be great fun. Here's my card,' I fumble in my bag and take out one of my business cards.

'Oh, thank you,' he takes it from me with a delighted expression on his face, 'I'll get you one of mine too.' He hands me his card, 'this is my card,' he says, 'my phone number is on it, so if you feel like meeting sometimes, or want to spar, be my guest.'

Well, I think to myself, this will certainly happen, and we don't necessarily have to talk about glass alone.

We say goodbye to each other, there is still a lot to do before we can finally go home, and unfortunately our cars are quite a distance from our stalls.

I can't sleep at night, I keep thinking about that cute, sexy man with those beautiful teeth. And that body of his, as far as I could see of course, that didn't disappoint either, so I'm having a bit of a rough night. Fortunately, I still have such a handy device next to my bed and I'm just considering using it strategically when my mobile says 'ping', it sounds like a text. Curious I open the message, I don't recognize the number, but I already have a distinct suspicion.

'I can't sleep,' I read, 'the full moon is keeping me awake.'

Full moon? I think puzzled, what full moon, what's he talking about. Is this actually Ben, or is it someone else?

And then it dawns on me, that full moon, the rascal! I start giggling involuntarily. I think for a moment and then write back, 'Well, there's a lunar eclipse right now, does that help?'

'No,' is the answer, 'not really, that only builds up the tension.'

I send him a smiling smiley back, 'I would love to show you that full moon again, but unfortunately that's not possible right now,' I add, a bit tense all of a sudden, is this too direct?

'Shit,' I get back, 'I was afraid of that. Well, then I'll let you sleep on, I'll see you next weekend at the Summer Art fair anyway.' We found out at noon that we are both there, which is not surprising, it is currently "art fair season", there's one almost every weekend.

'That's right,' I write back, 'until then, goodnight. I wish you great strength!' I add with a mischievous grin. I get a whole lot of smileys back, ranging from very innocent to so naughty that I won't repeat them here. Gosh, I think to myself, I must have made quite an impression with my white behind. It's always nice to notice you can still manage to do that, at my age. I decide to leave the vibrator behind; this WhatsApp conversation has actually given me such a good feeling that I almost immediately feel my eyes shut. It also produces some really pleasant dreams.

There is radio silence in the week between the two fairs, I'm not sure how to interpret that. I'm about to text him a few times, especially when I'm lonely and alone in my bed, but I decide not to, we'll see each other again that weekend anyway, and I actually first want to make sure that the spark that was undeniably there, will still be there when we meet again.

Unfortunately, I have had some very disappointing experiences with men who like to flirt with you during an encounter, exchange phone numbers with you, then go home horny, send you some sexually explicit messages, to which of course you also reply in the same spirit, and then suddenly withdraw, presumably after they, lying in their bed, next to their sleeping wife, have satisfied themselves, with the image of your body on their retinas. Then you never hear from them again.

And I really don't feel like experiencing that ever again, we'll see how it develops with Ben, there is always the vibrator, my support in times of extreme drought. Or wetness.

So, the following weekend we are both at an art fair again, and much to my surprise, we are facing each other again. What a coincidence, I think, unbelievable. Like it's predestined. I'm in for a surprise.

Ben comes running to me as soon as he sees me. 'Hey gorgeous!' he shouts with a grin, 'I dreamed of your full moon!'

'Wow,' I respond with a feigned disapproving look, 'can't you think of anything else?'

'I'm sorry,' he says guiltily, 'that's not very polite of me, you're right. By the way, it wasn't meant to be misogynistic at all, anything but, I don't want you to think I consider you a sex object,' He chuckles a little, 'but, having said that, you have a beautiful ass, I would like to shout that from the rooftops!'

Ben's voice is rather loud, and I can see my neighbors, two elderly women clad in hideous beaded necklaces that were obviously homemade, prick their ears up, trying to imperceptibly move their furnishing work in our direction to better hear what is being said. I know them, they are very curious and anything but discreet.

'Shout huh? Maybe you'd better pick up a megaphone, then the rest of the people here can also hear,' I whisper reproachfully. Ben immediately looks very guilty, I start chuckling involuntarily, it's such a funny sight. I point surreptitiously in the direction of the two women, an understanding look appears on Ben's face. He grabs my arm and pulls me away from the stall.

'Sorry sweetheart, it just popped out, bad habit of mine.'

'Never mind,' I laugh, 'always nice to get compliments on your full moon. I'm curious about your dreams, by the way, you can tell me more about it later.' He grins again. 'Hey, don't you think it's a curious coincidence that we're facing each other again?' I ask then.

Ben starts to shuffle his feet, looks a little shy, and says, 'Well, to be honest...' I look at him expectantly, 'that's not entirely coincidental.'

'Do tell,' I say, intrigued.

'I checked last week what stand number was yours at this fair and then... er, then I swapped with the one who had the number opposite,' he confesses with a stutter.

My mouth falls open. 'Really,' I say with a straight face, 'this is starting to look like stalking, dear Ben.'

He gives me a sunny look, not in the least bit taken aback by my serious look, 'well, if I have to stand at a fair like this all day, I prefer to have something nice to look at, at moments I'm short of customers.'

'Gosh,' I say teasingly, 'that's a very nice thing to say, now I can't help but forgive you for all your inappropriate behavior.'

'Including the inappropriate behavior yet to come?' he asks with a mischievous grin.

'Including the inappropriate behavior yet to come,' I confirm with a wink. 'And I'm happy with it,' I continue, 'I too like to have a bit of a nice view during such a fair. And there are those dull hours...'

'Yes,' he says thoughtfully, 'you have those dull hours, in which you would prefer to do something else...' Gosh, I think with amusement, what a wonderful flirt this is! He looks at me seductively, it gives me the hots. But two can play this game.

'You have a point,' I say thoughtfully, 'but then again, we can't just walk away from this fair, can we?'

'No,' he laughs, 'I don't think that's such a good idea either, then we'll just have to control ourselves, don't you think?'

I nod in agreement.

'But eh, after the fair's over,' he says, 'I don't have any plans, do you?'

'No,' I say, 'not really. At least not yet, but that could change very quickly.'

'What do you mean?'

'Depends on what you're proposing.' His face clears up.

'Oh, well, I thought I'd take you out to dinner first, that seems to be part of the deal if you--'

'You're just an incorrigible flirt, aren't you,' I interrupt him with a chuckle, expressing my thought of a moment ago.

'Girl, you're soon going to find out, you don't know the half of it yet.'

I hope so, I think to myself, I'm starting to like him more and more, with his unabashed allusions and cheerful laugh. And it is clear that the spark is still there, and to be very honest: the spark has now become a small inner fire for me. Man, I had forgotten what a terribly tasty guy he is.

He lets me decide which restaurant it will be, I choose Thai.

At the end of the fair day, he gallantly helps me carry my stuff to my car and load it. I appreciate that so much that I do the same for him in return. Then we decide to leave his car and drive mine to the chosen restaurant.

The food at the Thai is very spicy, I soon notice that I am now on fire in two places. Ben is sitting opposite me; I regularly catch rather sultry looks. Wonderful, I think, enjoying it, to be looked at in such a way once again, it also produces some wetness, I feel, not unwelcome either.

'Hot?' he asks at one point; I look up in shock.

'The food,' he explains with a knowing grin, 'your face is kind of red.'

'Oh,' I stammer, 'yes, a little too much, I think,' I feel my blush deepen, if at all possible.

'It looks nice on you,' he laughs. 'Ice cream for dessert?' he adds teasingly, 'to cool down.'

'Ben and Jerry's?' I suggest, we both burst out laughing.

During dinner we mainly talk about art, about customers and clients, experiences with pricing and the like. Nothing about relationships and not too sexually tinged either, just fun, exploratory.

'Yes, I recognize that,' I say at one point, when we talk about what drives us in our art, 'I can sometimes be completely ecstatic when I open the kiln and see that the result is exactly what I intended, or even something more.'

'Indeed,' he says with a laugh, 'but it can also be a huge disappointment.'

'Oh, tell me about it,' I sigh, 'I have plenty of experience with that too,' we look at each other understandingly for a moment, and then Ben says: 'Honestly, I don't think I'll be disappointed when I open your kiln.'

'Hahaha,' I laugh, blowing a playful kiss at him and taking another bite of my hot, but delicious food.

At the end of the evening, I take him back to his car, there follows an incredibly exciting French kiss. We can barely keep our hands off each other and as he presses me against the door of his car and runs his big, sensitive hands over my body, I feel an erection pressing against my stomach, and unless he has a lead pipe concealed in his jeans, he must be hugely endowed, I'm starting to worry a little bit. He sees my doubtful look. 'It's quite harmless, it's actually very sweet,' he says reassuringly, but with a mischievous grin, 'it won't hurt you.' I don't know about that, I think with concern, I can already see it in my mind, soon I will be torn to such an extent that I will need stitches!

At that absurd image I start laughing, and I tell him in response to his questioning look why I'm suddenly having such fun, the sexual tension is immediately broken. Good thing, I think it's illegal to fuck in public, and that was about to happen fast.

We look at each other cheerfully, 'we should just leave it at that I gather?' says Ben, it sounds a bit regretful.

'Yes,' I say, 'I think it would be better, but eh, would you like to come and take a look at my studio, next Wednesday, for example?'

'Only your studio?' he asks, with a challenging look.