strange soup she probably cooked in a cauldron with thick bread that has a tough crust. I’m pretty sure I’ll have to stop for a burger on the way home.
I find myself absentmindedly taking sips of the absinthe. Maybe subconsciously I’m hoping to numb my mind and after a while it’s working. We move to the living room for dessert. I’m halfway done with my dark chocolate mousse when I get the guts to confront her.
I sweep my arm across the interior view. “So what’s this all about? Are you a goth or something?”
“Something like that.”
“I’ve gotta say, I wasn’t expecting this. At all.”
She licks the chocolate off her spoon and sets it down.
“Really? What were you expecting?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. White wicker furniture and pale yellow walls. English landscape paintings. Like you see on TV shows.”
She laughs softly. “Sorry to disappoint you.”
“I don’t know if I’d say disappointed, just surprised.” I take a sip of the weird wine and realize I’ve almost finished my second glass.
She refills it.
“Are you really into Phantom of the Opera or something?”
Her eyes grow wide. “No. Actually my home is a reflection of my spirituality. It’s my refuge here, akin to a place of worship. I hope you know how rare it is for me to invite a man here, but I feel a really strong connection to you, Paul.”
“You do?” I can’t help but be surprised. She may have been attentive during our dinner date, but that little peck on the cheek when we parted didn’t say strong connection to me.
“Definitely, I had to pray on it before I understood His will where you’re concerned.”
The hair on the back of my neck stands up.
She slides off the couch and down to the floor. I’m wondering if she dropped something, but suddenly she pops up, kneeling right in front of me. Just the sight of her kneeling is making my palms sweat. There’s no way I’m letting her give me a blowjob. It’s not just that I don’t want dark red lipstick all over my cock, but this is all wrong and not just because I’m abstaining until I meet the right girl. As much as I love a good blowie, even I have my limits and she’s freaking me out.
I grasp her shoulders. “Please, Lourdes, get up.”
She gazes up at me, as she rests her hands on my knees. “Paul, I want to offer myself to you.”
Suddenly a quick blowie sounds preferable to getting naked between the sheets with goth girl. I will my cock to behave despite the sex offerings, and clear my head as best I can in order to reply coherently.
“Offer yourself? But we haven’t even gotten to second base yet. Hell, we haven’t even kissed!”
“Yes, although I knew you were the one when I met you, I was waiting for a sign.”
“A sign? What sign was that?” ’Cause right now all I’m seeing is a big fat stop sign . . . the same dark red as her walls.
“I was waiting for a spiritual sign. I want to be frank and speak from the heart. I want to offer you my virginity, and I hope you understand how sacred that is.”
I don’t know if it’s the heat from the fireplace, or this screwy wine but for a few seconds the room goes black. When my vision clears she’s patiently waiting for my response. Damn this isn’t just one of those freaky dreams you have when you mix too many different kinds of booze.
“You’re a virgin?” I whisper.
“Spiritually I am.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“When the Lord gives me the sign that I’m supposed to give myself to a man, I say a prayer to resurrect my spiritual virginity.”
Oh, that’s rich. And I thought Elle was way out there. “I didn’t know there were virginity do-overs,” I mumble.
She nods, lifts herself off the floor and reaches for my hand.
I wipe the sweat off my brow and close my eyes to keep the red room from spinning. “I’m dizzy,” I moan.
She places her hands on my shoulders and I immediately sense the teacher of small children in her as she speaks to me in
I find myself absentmindedly taking sips of the absinthe. Maybe subconsciously I’m hoping to numb my mind and after a while it’s working. We move to the living room for dessert. I’m halfway done with my dark chocolate mousse when I get the guts to confront her.
I sweep my arm across the interior view. “So what’s this all about? Are you a goth or something?”
“Something like that.”
“I’ve gotta say, I wasn’t expecting this. At all.”
She licks the chocolate off her spoon and sets it down.
“Really? What were you expecting?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. White wicker furniture and pale yellow walls. English landscape paintings. Like you see on TV shows.”
She laughs softly. “Sorry to disappoint you.”
“I don’t know if I’d say disappointed, just surprised.” I take a sip of the weird wine and realize I’ve almost finished my second glass.
She refills it.
“Are you really into Phantom of the Opera or something?”
Her eyes grow wide. “No. Actually my home is a reflection of my spirituality. It’s my refuge here, akin to a place of worship. I hope you know how rare it is for me to invite a man here, but I feel a really strong connection to you, Paul.”
“You do?” I can’t help but be surprised. She may have been attentive during our dinner date, but that little peck on the cheek when we parted didn’t say strong connection to me.
“Definitely, I had to pray on it before I understood His will where you’re concerned.”
The hair on the back of my neck stands up.
She slides off the couch and down to the floor. I’m wondering if she dropped something, but suddenly she pops up, kneeling right in front of me. Just the sight of her kneeling is making my palms sweat. There’s no way I’m letting her give me a blowjob. It’s not just that I don’t want dark red lipstick all over my cock, but this is all wrong and not just because I’m abstaining until I meet the right girl. As much as I love a good blowie, even I have my limits and she’s freaking me out.
I grasp her shoulders. “Please, Lourdes, get up.”
She gazes up at me, as she rests her hands on my knees. “Paul, I want to offer myself to you.”
Suddenly a quick blowie sounds preferable to getting naked between the sheets with goth girl. I will my cock to behave despite the sex offerings, and clear my head as best I can in order to reply coherently.
“Offer yourself? But we haven’t even gotten to second base yet. Hell, we haven’t even kissed!”
“Yes, although I knew you were the one when I met you, I was waiting for a sign.”
“A sign? What sign was that?” ’Cause right now all I’m seeing is a big fat stop sign . . . the same dark red as her walls.
“I was waiting for a spiritual sign. I want to be frank and speak from the heart. I want to offer you my virginity, and I hope you understand how sacred that is.”
I don’t know if it’s the heat from the fireplace, or this screwy wine but for a few seconds the room goes black. When my vision clears she’s patiently waiting for my response. Damn this isn’t just one of those freaky dreams you have when you mix too many different kinds of booze.
“You’re a virgin?” I whisper.
“Spiritually I am.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“When the Lord gives me the sign that I’m supposed to give myself to a man, I say a prayer to resurrect my spiritual virginity.”
Oh, that’s rich. And I thought Elle was way out there. “I didn’t know there were virginity do-overs,” I mumble.
She nods, lifts herself off the floor and reaches for my hand.
I wipe the sweat off my brow and close my eyes to keep the red room from spinning. “I’m dizzy,” I moan.
She places her hands on my shoulders and I immediately sense the teacher of small children in her as she speaks to me in