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.
