“That part of us we don’t share”

She complimented me on my eyes. Then she said, “Behind beautiful eyes lie deep dark secrets.”

“We all have that part of us we don’t share with those around us,” she continued.

I made the trek by train to see “Claudette.” She was visiting in a nearby city. I saw her account on social media, and her sophistication intrigued me. I called her when I arrived at her upscale hotel. She gave me her room number. When I knocked on the door of her room, a tall blonde in her 40s opened the door. She gave me a peck on the cheek and invited me inside her darkened room. Flickering candles and soft music added to the ambience. She invited me to take a seat on the sofa, then sat next to me. Our ensuing conversation revealed a fascinating woman. Born and raised on a NATO base in Belgium, she’s a native francophone, and her speech still bears a faint accent. Educated, well-traveled, and literate (she just finished reading Sapiens, a history of early humankind), she seemed a modern incarnation of the courtesans of the Renaissance. She was interested in my studies, although she confessed to being “spiritual but not religious.” Her alluring blue eyes captivated me.

Then she started kissing me.

We made out on the sofa. My hand made its way up one of her long legs. She suggested we move to the bed. Her robe came off. So did my clothing. We made out some more on the bed, then her lips moved down my chin, across my chest, down my stomach. Her hand reached down and gently caressed my balls. Her lips moved past my pubic region. She kissed the head of my cock before her mouth enveloped it. I ran my hand through her long silky blonde mane. She is an artist with her mouth, and the pleasure was ineffable.

She grabbed a condom package from the nightstand, tore it open, and slipped the condom on. She straddled my thighs and slowly impaled herself on me. Her hips rocked in a slow, rhythmic motion. I squeezed her breasts, then ran my hands down to her hips. Her hips rocked harder and faster. I thrust my hips up to meet her. Her fingers pressed deep into my chest. A few more desperate thrusts and I released a deep orgasmic groan.

As we lay on the bed afterwards, post-coital tristesse set in. “It’s all in the mind,” she softly said. Then I dressed. She gave me a warm kiss goodbye. I exited the hotel into the bustling city.