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From all to nothing

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"Happy?" you say and look at me.

You have spilled wine. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, but a big, deep red drop runs down your throat. I follow it breathlessly with my eyes. You look down, wait until it almost touches your nipple, then catch it with a the tip of a finger.


I flinch and look up, shamefacedly. You smile and lick your fingertip.

I grin. "I could have done that."

"You think?" You look at me with a smile, then shrug so your breasts jump. "Okay, do it then."

I jump, too. "What?" I can't believe you just said what you said.

You smile innocently. "Sure. Just come over here."

Hesitantly, I stand up and begin walking around the table. I don't know what'll happen, what you mean. If you mean what I think... I don't know if I really want to.

You follow my movements, so the table remains between us. We have changed places and it dawns on me that you have fooled me.

You sit down in the sofa, still naked. "Okay, go ahead."

Right. What do I do now? This isn't something I had anticipated. You're not interested in me. Are you? I stare at you. I'm afraid. You look at me with raised eyebrows. I can't read you, but I guess it's only fair. There's no such thing as a free lunch. If you show me yours I'll have to show you mine.

I follow your example, unbutton the trousers and pull them off together with my breifs. Nervously I stand up again, I realise my t-shirt isn'a as long as yours - my tip is hanging out under it. I have problems there. I'm hardening from seeing you naked on the sofa in front of me, and perhaps some sort of exhibitionistic arousal, but I'm shrinking of nerves and, to my surprise, a feeling of sheme I thought I had long grown out of.

But the shame is there, and I'm struck by the thought that it isn't the same thing at all. You're still in control. I'm the one who wants you, it's not the other way around. You don't look at me with longing and desire. I can't undress and know that you will appreciate what you see.

I look up. A little smile is playing on your lips, your eyes are locked on my face. You aren't interested in my body, but in my reaction to showing it. I think. I don't dare think I know how you think any more - you have surprised me too much already.

I pull the t-shirt over my head and drop it on the floor. Stand naked in front of you. Take a deep breath, put my hands behind my neck in an imitation of your pose and begin turning around.

It's easier when I can't see your face any more. At first, that is. With my back turned to you I stop. Not in imitation, but to let the battle of my conflicting emotions be decided. I feel how I swell, harden, rise... But I don't know how to handle it. I must stop to gather my thoughts.

My wait doesn't make any difference, I remain swollen and stiff. With a silent sigh I continue to turn and stop facing you, pointing at you with my erection.

You laugh. Lean forwards and stretch the wine bottle towards me. I take a step, take the bottle and drink without noticing any taste. Look silently at you, with a question in my eyes.

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