Travel Motels; Such boring places to be in, but exactly right for what I need ... I'm far from home. No-one knows me here, or cares about me or my life.
I'm a nice girl and I know I'm playing a dangerous game. But I can't help myself. At twenty five the danger is the thrill and the thrill is what I need, what I'm desperate for. The anticipation of this is what makes my legs tremble and the butterflies in my stomach flip, what makes me wet just thinking about it.
I sit in the eatery and wait for something that may or may not happen, dressed smart-casual in a floral summer dress and cork heels. A light dinner is enough, a glass of wine to follow. I look busy on my i-pad to pass the time as the sun goes down outside - outwardly just an ordinary woman in an ordinary travel inn, doing ordinary things.
I didn't see you come in to the bar, didn't see you eat. But when I do see you, you're glancing my way. I ignore you ... at first.
There's nothing special about you. Initially nothing made me want it to be you that will be the one who picks me up. But then I realize that's why I want it to be you.
Step one; play it cool.
Step two; wait for a second glance, twiddle hair.
Step three; you get the message, casually walk over.
I look cool calm and collected but inside everything's a-flutter. I wonder if you can hear my heart beating, it beats so loud. I look surprised when you ask if you can join me but say yes, ok. I'm not acting shy. I am shy. A shy quiet girl who wants to re-live the thrill of being picked up by a stranger.
I let you buy me a drink and we do the friendly chit chat. I don't want it but go along with it - for appearances' sake. I'm a shy girl but not one that doesn't know what she wants. The first time I did this kind of thing was five months ago, a genuinely unexpected pick up with a guy a lot older than you, a middle aged man, the first one night stand I'd ever had - and such a wonderful night of rampant sex, that I knew that one one-night stand was never going to be enough.
I'm not looking for a husband or a boyfriend I half whisper, and at first you don't understand. I don't care who you are or what you do. I don't want to know anything about you, I interrupt you, and you fall silent for a moment, a little less sure of yourself. I like that. That hint of vulnerability goes well with your nice looks.