This story is inspired by a bicycle trip across Denmark. The locations exist but the characters are fictional. The idea of the sugar cubes comes from an urban legend that continues to circulate amongst former Copenhagen University students. I'm unsure as to whether the practice continues or whether it ever did exist.
This is the first chapter of several that I hope to write. It sets the stage for what's to come. Sorry for the pun. Please send me your comments as I enjoy receiving feedback
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CHAPTER ONE
"May I join you?"
"Pardon?"
"May I join you?" she repeated with a smile.
"Certainly!" I said looking confused.
"I'll just get myself a coffee." She turned around and walked toward the counter. As she walked away, I couldn't help but notice her figure and beautiful shoulder length black hair. She was about my age, around 50 I figured. I looked around me. There were empty tables everywhere. Why did she choose to sit with me, I wondered?
I had arrived in Copenhagen the day before on my way to a bike trip across Denmark that was to start in Skagen. That morning, I had enjoyed breakfast at the hotel and headed out to explore the city on foot. I was sitting in the top floor cafeteria of a large department store called Illum playing with three sugar cubes and had just stacked them on top of one another when she asked to sit down at my table.
She was wearing dark blue high heels and a short navy blue skirt that hugged her hips. Her blue and white stripe blouse was buttoned up but I could see that she was wearing a white pearl necklace. When she returned to my table, I noticed that, since we had first met each other, she had undone two buttons on her blouse revealing full breasts nestled in a demi bra.
"My name is Inga" she said extending her hand before sitting down.
I rose to shake her hand. "I'm Paul."
She shook my hand firmly. "Have you been here long?" she asked as we both sat down.
"About a half hour"
"Do you come here often?"
"No. I'm just spending one day in Copenhagen on the way to Skagen. I'm biking back to Copenhagen from there." My Danish was a bit rusty and I was clearly struggling.
In English she said "You're not from Denmark?" Her eyes suddenly showed confusion. She looked at the three sugar cubes that I had stacked. An uncomfortable smile crept over her face. She started to blush and then began laughing.
"What is it?" I asked. Her laugh was infectious. I couldn't help but join her. But I had no idea what was so funny.
"It's nothing" she said waving her hands. She tried to repress her laugh but broke out again. Her fingers were trying to do up the buttons on her blouse but she was shaking too hard from
laughing.
"Come on. What is it?" I asked again.
She put her hands over her mouth and nose trying to control herself. She broke out laughing again. Finally, she managed to say "You're probably wondering...why on earth did this woman ask to sit with me when there were so many empty tables?"
"Well, actually...! But I'm quite enjoying this. Not every man has a beautiful woman ask to join him." I was afraid that I had been too forward and stopped for a moment to see her reaction. She seemed flattered. "You have an infectious laugh. I wish I knew what you think is so funny."
Her eyes glanced again at the sugar cubes. Mine followed. Then we looked into each other's eyes. Hers were a beautiful blue. She wore little make up. Her lips were full. What a milk maid complexion I thought. I looked back at the cubes. "Is there something about the sugar cubes?" I asked.
She rolled her eyes, took a deep breath and exhaled. "It's a sign."
"A sign of what?"
She leaned toward me. Looking me in the eyes again, she said in a lowered voice "A sign that you're interested in...meeting a woman." She paused as if to give me time to let the idea sink in.
"Men interested in meeting a woman come here and stack three sugar cubes as a sign. The woman sits with the man she chooses and...gets to know him. It's been going on in this cafeteria quietly for years."
"Get to know him?" I repeated quizzically. I wasn't sure what that meant. But I could imagine!
"Yes...get to know him" she said matter of fact.
She didn't seem willing to expand on that. "So...you're interested in...getting to know me then?" I said narrowing my eyes and smiling.
"Yes, as a matter of fact, I was...er...am. But I seem to be...shall we say ...invited ... unintentionally. So, I don't know your intentions." She smirked and began to turn red.
We both burst out laughing. I noticed she hadn't been successful in doing up the buttons on her blouse. Her breasts heaved in her bra as she laughed. She caught me looking and smiled.
"Well this isn't exactly how I expected things to turn out Paul" she said. "But...yes...I think I would be interested in...getting to know you better."
"What would you like to know then?" I asked challenging her to open up about her intentions.
She thought for a moment. "Would you like to help me shop for my husband's birthday present?"
She was holding back a smile. She's leading me on, I thought. "Oh, the cubes are a sign that I'm a fashion consultant?" I asked with a wry smile.
"Not...exactly" she replied. "But it's a good start!" She arched her eyebrows.
"So what do you want to get your husband?"
"A demi bra, garter, stockings and thong" she said quickly watching my reaction.
My jaw dropped and my eyes widened. I began to turn red. She continued to look me straight in the eyes. She was enjoying every second as I wrestled with my thoughts. "Well?"
"Well..." I was trying to buy time to compose myself. I didn't want her to think I was a prude. "Well...actually...I do have some experience. I enjoy shopping for that sort of thing with my wife. In fact, I have her size right here in my wallet." I pulled out an Aubade bra tag from my wallet. "34E!" I proudly declared.
"Oh! You're a lucky man! So you're experienced and willing to help me?"
"Why...yes I would. There's a lingerie department on the first floor that we could try" I was regaining my composure.
"Actually, I have a better place in mind just down the street from here" she said. "It's called L'Agent Provocateur." Her eyes were now locked on mine again. She was daring me.
I was trying not to show any emotion. "I've been there with my wife" I said as nonchalant as I could.
She didn't seem impressed. "So you have some experience. Let's go then!" She slowly started to gather her things.
I hesitated. "Inga...just one second. I just want to make sure I understand this. You want me to go with you to a lingerie shop to help you find a set that would excite your husband?"
"That's part of it...right!" She stood up to go.
"No, just one second. Are you sure? You hardly know me."
Inga sat down. "Paul, I'm a pretty good judge of character. Let's have some fun." She reached out for my hand.
We left the cafeteria down the escalator. Out the corner of my eye, I saw two young female cashiers looking our way and smiling. Inga caught my glance.
"How well known is it about those sugar cubes?" I asked. Inga shrugged and smiled.
We walked out the store onto Pilestraede. I noticed that Inga had managed to do up the buttons on her blouse. It didn't prevent men and women from taking second looks as they passed us on the street. She was very good looking - something very sensual about her.
Less than a hundred yards up the street, there was a small storefront window with a mannequin dressed in a fine lace black quarter bra, thong, garters and stocking holding a whip. "Is that what you're thinking?" I asked.
"Yes. What do you think?"
"I think you should try something with colour."