Life is Sweet and Salty Pt. 01

"Strange, certainly, and I guess a bit creepy. But let's play along and see where it takes us, shall we?"

A question, but not really, I thought. More of a school teacher's type of question-cum-instruction.

I nodded. "I'm game if you are." I tried to keep it light.

"Which of the following would be the most humiliating:

Failing to achieve something you had boasted to others it would be easy for you to do. For example, you were going to run a sponsored half marathon and failed to finish.

Someone finding out your deepest secrets. Maybe they read your diary or viewed your website history.

You are at a restaurant on a date. You offer to pay for the meal but your card is declined.

You are speaking at a public event and after you've stood up to give your speech, you notice your fly is undone."

"Wow. Ok, all those! I hate humiliation more than anything. My biggest fear. But my innermost secrets would be more exposing and make me more vulnerable than anything. It would have to be that one."

"Interesting. Because of the truths you write in your diary or because of the porn sites you visit?"

She was joking and winked whilst she said it but there was a real question laying right underneath. I could sense it, and I blushed. Looking away from her gaze I smiled and tried to pass off an expression that said, 'Ha ha, yeah, funny, but I'm ok with that,' when clearly inside I felt humiliated and exposed.

Boom! Yes just as the question itself had tweaked ajar my deepest fear, Julie was prising the wound open, exposing me just as successfully as if she'd pulled my trousers down whilst speaking at a public event!

"Moving on!" I squirmed in my chair; I could feel myself starting to sweat. I liked this woman but she was unsettling me. "What about you? What did you answer?"

"Ok, that's fair. I answered lazy day lounging around, a party with new people and public failure to achieve something. Complete opposite to you I think, give or take." She leaned back in her chair a little, nursing her glass of wine, watching me closely for my reaction to that statement.

"So, do opposites attract or do they just drift apart once the curiosity wanes?" I wanted to put her back on the spot.

"Does there have to be a rule? In my experience, it depends on the specifics and the context. But that's why we have 'Knowing Me Knowing You'. The algorithm will advise. Do we trust it, though?" she asked with a conspiratorial tone.

"I've always trusted ABBA. Haven't you?" I laughed at my own cheesy joke. Thankfully, she did too, albeit maybe more at the recognition of the cheesiness than the quality.

"Let's see, shall we?"

She pulled her phone out of her handbag and started clicking on the KMKY website, I assume, entering our answers.

After a minute or two she looked up from her phone and towards me.

"It says we will both receive a text message giving advice within the next hour. How are you at waiting?"

"Ha ha, not good. How are you at following advice?" I parried.

"Are you asking me if I will use the hotel room if it advises me too?"

Fuck, she's direct, and cuts right to the chase with very little messing around.

"I guess I am but I'm too British to ask that straight out!" I keep feeling the need to be honest with Julie. I'm usually much more of a closed book.

"Ok, then. If the advice is to sleep with you, I would consider it. I've had one night stands before. They can be fun. But first I would want to know why it was advising me to do that.

"How about you?"

"Can I call pass?"

"No."

She meant it. She fixed me with a warm stare. Not cold or hard. Warm, but still a state that told me she wasn't pretending. She didn't have time to waste, was the message.

"If it told me to sleep with you, I would be very happy to oblige. If it told me not to, I would be disappointed, but would be too unconfident to suggest we go against it however much I might want to. Is that honest enough for you?"

She still fixed me with that stare. Still warm, but I could see the cogs turning and slight smile appearing on her lips.

"So many questions. You said 'told me to' not 'advised me to'. The algorithm only advises. You seem to equate the two in some way. May I ask one of my own questions, now? Will you answer honestly?"

"I'll try. But it probably depends on the question."

"Right now, would you describe yourself as embarrassed, turned on, nervous, shy or confused?" She had leaned forward, resting her forearms on the edge of the table, lowering her voice to a whisper. My dick gave me the truthful answer there and then, as it flickered into life inside my briefs.

"You don't mess around, do you?" I know I was blushing. I know she could see me blush. I could see that she liked to see me blush too.

"And you didn't answer my question. But I think I can read your answer anyway." She had leaned in ever closer now. I mirrored her movement as our faces were just inches apart over the table. She looked right at me. My eyes wandered, embarrassed, not finding anywhere comfortable to settle.

"Ok, a little of each then. Does that answer your question?"

"It does but not as honestly as your face does. I think it is a little more of one than it is of the others. Am I correct?"

That teacher questioning again.

"Ok, so you know the embarrassment and shyness is there. So why do you need me to spell it out?" I tried to say this in a cocky way, to show I wasn't completely fazed by the talk turning to sex so quickly and directly.

"Ask me a question now. I dare you." The last sentence was said slowly and deliberately. Almost spoken directly into my ear. I could feel her breath on me as she said it.

I sat there. Frozen. That was a direct challenge. This mouse of a teacher in appearances was clearly more of a lion. She was confident in herself and what she wanted. She was astute and perceptive. She was demanding and challenging. But she was also kind with it. There was a definite tenderness underneath her challenges, wanting me to rise to them. Willing me to succeed.

I steeled myself. I leaned in closer, too.

"Are you attracted to me? Do you want the advice to be to stay in the room tonight?" Emphasising the word "want".

"I am and I do. I'm not completely sure why, though. You're not my usual type. You're young and shy. I usually go for the more confident, gregarious guy. You are sweet, though. And I am attracted to your honesty."

All I could do at that point was concentrate on breathing, on not beaming a huge smile, of not keeling over with the embarrassment of the moment, or the stress at the ball now being firmly in my court.

She saved me.

"Let's take a break, shall we, and wait to see what the algorithm suggests?" she 'suggested', leaning back in her chair now.

Again, an order disguised as a question. I bet she was a great teacher.

I nodded, relaxed back into my chair, and took a very large sip of wine.

I was suddenly conscious of my hardness. Shit could she see my lap. I didn't want to look down to see if it was obvious, as that would only draw attention to it. Shit, she really knew how to turn me on. And she hadn't exactly talked dirty to me. Far from it. How did she have this effect on me?

"Tell me about your longest relationship. What was she like? How long ago was it? Why did you break up?"

"Direct again, I see!" I smiled and proceeded to tell her about it as honestly and succinctly as I could. Of course, I did. There was a pattern to this now.

I told her how I had dated Nicky on and off. How the sex was good, the relationship was positive and affirming, but that it wasn't going anywhere so we would end up meeting less and less frequently until one day she told me she had met someone else. After that we kept in touch, met for a drink with friends once in a while, but we never had sex again. We just drifted apart.

"It sounds like you were both very passive. You knew it wasn't going anywhere, so you just let it take its course until one of you had a better offer?"

"That sounds fair. It wasn't the first time for me, either. I am too passive and my resolution is to be more assertive and proactive in my next relationship.

"What about you, though? Who was your last boyfriend?"

"John. He was forty, then. He was senior manager at a water company. He was good-looking, confident and good in bed. We were together for six years. He asked me to marry him. I said yes, thinking this was the perfect match for me. But there was something missing. It nagged at me and over the following few days and weeks I became depressed and insular. I knew I couldn't go through with it, and I broke it off about a month after getting engaged. Cold, eh?"

"Not cold. Assertive maybe?" I said, but I had thought cold. Not in the way she broke it off with him but in the way she had told me about it. Short, sharp explanation. No emotions. But still honest and open.

"You're cute. Very polite. Are you maybe a bit needy, too?"

Thwack! I felt like a slap in the face. We were talking so nicely and then she says something that just cuts right to my bone. She articulates exactly how I feel about myself. She was goading me into facing my own demons. But we had only just met. How could she do this?

"That feels a little harsh!"

"You didn't answer, again. You deflected." Thwack. Again.

"I guess, a little maybe." I paused. Trying to muster courage I took another long deliberate sip of wine. "Does it turn you off me?" I asked.

"It isn't your best feature. But I'm sure my teacher control freak-ery isn't, either. We are who we are."

Ping, ping

Almost simultaneously our phones pinged into life. Here we go I thought.

"Shall we?"

"I guess we might as well. First, a last toast. To possibilities!"

"Yes. Cheers!

"Wait. I have an idea. How about I read your message out to you and you read mine to me? Swap?"

She offered me her phone, arm outstretched.

"Err, ok."

We opened our phones and then swapped; Julie read my message first.

"You are a very good match if you dare to be. You should be bold. Ask Julie to stay the night and tell her honestly why you are attracted to her. Answer her questions openly and fully. Follow her lead. Give yourself to her."

I beamed and blushed all at once. "How does it know how I feel?"

"Read mine."

"You are attracted to Stuart and he could be everything you need in a relationship but didn't really know you needed. Ask yourself why you are attracted to Stuart and how you could see the relationship working. Let yourself go, but take control of the situation. Stuart won't do it for you."

I looked up from her phone's screen and caught her expression when I think she didn't know I was looking. She looked a little flushed for the first time. The algorithm had seen through her, too. And it had also unsettled her.

"You blushed!" I teased, emboldened by the apparent levelling out of our discomfort and the great news that she had been advised to act on the relationship.

"I did. It's good, isn't it? The algorithm I mean."

"Scarily so. What now?"

"I think I need some time, to clear my head, to think about what it said."

I passed her phone back. She did likewise.

"Do you fancy a walk? We are close to the river, and it might be nice out there. The skies are due to be clear." I was taking the initiative. Get me!

"I think I will, but I might go on my own. Do you mind? I'll be half an hour at most. Would you mind waiting for me in the bar?"

I was crushed; I can't lie. We swapped numbers as I was worried for her walking around at night alone and said I would feel better if she could ring. If she was going to call this off, which I now thought was likely, I would also prefer she just texted me so I didn't have to face her again. Having the KMKY algorithm tell me so clearly what I already knew about my feelings had raised me up only for her response to deflate me. Was I so taken with her already or was it just the wine talking?

Chapter Four - The Gift

I sat and waited. Of course I did. I watched my phone for the inevitable message saying she was going home, calling things off. I drank two more glasses of wine because I knew that performance was not going to be an issue tonight and needed the support. I listened to the piped music (trade-quality R&B) and harrumphed to myself.

I was staring into the bottom of my second empty glass of wine, pondering the wisdom of a third before plucking up the courage to cancel the room bookings when Julie walked back into the bar.

"Let's talk. Let's be brave and do a bit of real honesty, shall we?"

I was so pleased to see her I would have agreed to anything. In the short two hours since I had met Julie, I knew she was special and I had to be part of her life and have her part of mine.

"You're back. I thought you were going to walk and decide not to return."

"Well, I'm back for now. Let's talk. Shall I start?"

"Please. A drink?"

"Just a water. I want a clear head. I'd maybe advise the same for you, too?"

"You're right." I signalled to the waiter and ordered two sparkling waters.

"Let me just talk for a bit, would you? Don't interrupt or question, just listen?"

"Of course. I'm all ears."

"I'm significantly older than you, and I've been through more relationship ups and downs. I have my career sorted, my lifestyle and friendships sorted. But my love life is a mess. I've never been satisfied on that score. I thought it was something wrong with me. Don't laugh but the KMKY website was my last roll of the dice. I've been on it for months without it finding me a match and then you come along. I didn't trust it. I thought it was an intrusive gimmick and not a very effective one at that. But then tonight, I realised something about myself at the same time as I realised something about you. And this is why we were selected as a match. The algorithm understood before we did. Or, at least, it named it before we were willing to."

"But what are..." I started to ask as she paused to take a sip of her water.

A single hand raised stopped me in my tracks—the teacher again. "Please, I'm not finished explaining."

Holding her glass for me to see, she continued.

"I'm a bubble. You're a droplet. I yearn to be free. I wiggle out of the water and rise to the surface. When there I burst out and into the air where I can be me, where I belong."

Her hand gestures as if it were a bubble bursting and dispersing into the air.

"You are a droplet of moisture. You are born free, you can float around as you wish but you long to be rooted, to be fixed. When a cold glass of water appears, you recognise home. You long to be taken in, given refuge from the endless roaming. You cling to the side of the glass.

"We are opposites, but we are both part of the same cycle. We need each other.

"Do you understand what I'm saying?"

I took another sip as my mouth had dried on me while the truth of what Julie had described dawned on me.

"I think so. I need roots, something to cling to. You need freedom and space. I can see that in our answers to your questions. But how does that mean we need each other?"

"Answer me a few more questions. Think carefully before you answer."

She took my hand in hers. She held it and looked me right in the eyes again. Leaning in to speak emphasised the gravity she wanted to give it.

"Do you fancy me? Do you want to make love to me? Yes or no?"

"Very much so."

"Good. Why? As I said I want you to think about it. I don't want glib or trite answers. I want truth. I'm going to go to the bathroom while you think. We can talk when I get back."

At that, she stood and walked to the ladies. My eyes followed her as she went. Her dress came to just above her knees. It fitted snuggling over her slender waste and round, tight bottom. I watched that until it disappeared from view as the toilet door closed behind her.

Ok, I thought. Reason number one is easy. She is sexy and attractive.

But I'd been out with nominally sexier and more attractive women before.

She was clearly very bright, engaging, confident, caring, kind and thoughtful. All were truths. I knew that Julie was looking for a deeper truth though.

What made Julie different? I sat, replaying the evening's conversations in my head. What did she say that made me think she was the one I wanted to be with? No, not wanted, so much as needed?

And then it dawned on me. It was when she asked about my humiliation and my fear of my porn viewing becoming known. When I knew she could see inside me, strip away any facades I may have to portray the image I want others to have of me, to lay me open and bare, humiliated and yet at the same time safe and protected. That was when I knew.

Fuck, what did all that mean?

I was about to embark on that next question when she returned to her seat opposite me.

She smiled and leaned forward again, looking into me as she had before and asked, "So, have you found your truth? If so, you tell me yours and I'll tell you mine." And then she winked. A dirty wink, if I read her expression correctly.

I proceeded to tell her about my self-realisation of a few moments before. The longing to have someone who knows me inside out, who can expose me, yet protect and ground me in truth and honesty. Someone who would push me to be direct and talk about my desires, which I never do with anyone. I also explained how I lusted after her. Longed to see her naked. To kiss, touch and taste her.

I was stunned at how she had opened me up like that. And a little scared. But mostly turned on.

"Good. My turn then.

"I fancy you, too. You arouse something in me. A desire I have tried to ignore but feel safe exploring with you. I want to take control, total control. I want to make you mine and explore both our limits. To see where the journey takes us. Are you ready to play with me?"

"I truly am." I was as hard as a rock, listening to what she just told me.

"Are you aroused? Tell me honestly."

"Y-yes," I stammered, through yet another dry mouth. I quickly took another sip of water.

"Will you follow my lead and do as I ask tonight? All night? And then we talk again in the morning."

"I will follow where you take me. Every step." I wanted to be clear that I was ready to gift myself to her for whatever she had in mind.

"Ok. So, here we go then. Don't let me down. We are both going to be taking risks tonight and I'm trusting you and I hope you will trust me."

I leaned closer, trying to bridge the small gap between us to kiss her. It seemed like the right time.

"Not yet, mister." She had pulled back and sat upright. She had a stern look on her face. Almost cross. I was back in the classroom.

"Hold out your hand and close your eyes."

I did as I was asked without hesitation.

"Good boy. Now keep them closed until I say."

At that I felt some material being placed into my hand and she closed my fist around it.

"Keep your eyes closed and smell what I've just placed into your hand."

As I did, she explained what it was I was holding.

"Those are the knickers I've just taken off in the bathroom. You will smell my pussy juices on them. I've been wet and open for as long as I've been sat down after my walk. Dripping my nectar into these pants. Take a sniff now."

I did as I was asked and almost came into my pants right there, right then. This was probably the hottest, sexiest, dirtiest thing I had ever done in real life. How had the evening taken this kind of a turn so rapidly?

"Good boy. Now put them in your mouth. And keep them there until I say otherwise."

Again, without hesitation, I did exactly that. I wanted to taste them so much I could eat them. Literally. And she tasted as sweet and musky as I had hoped.

I sat there, sweaty with lust, a hard cock straining against my trousers.

"Now we will go and cancel one room and ask for the keys to the other room. You will not speak unless you want everyone to know you have my knickers in your mouth."