G e n d e r A c t

Play your cards right”, he said as he was putting his drink down. He admitted he was fascinated by her confusion and indecisiveness. She seemed kind and fragile but of a determined composition, her playful mood was a lodestone to his attention. He wanted to protect her and to give her a direction. He had wanted to squeeze her from the first time he set his gaze upon her but only stifled a dry smile and a wimp-like handshake…she sensed a promising game in his gesture but answered back in kind sobriety and carried on grooving in the dj’s funky tunes. She didn’t play hard to get, she could just discern he was playing the field. And bingo! She was right. Her friend warned later on.
The codes she toyed with in the games of flirtation were like dice on ice carrying the experience of absolute chaos or sweet bliss. She wasn’t making it easy in the first stages “Another one who wants to play fast and loose”, she whispered to herself, as his excitement grew. He didn’t feel that great on that night and normally he wouldn’t bother. But the intensity between them ultimately brought him on a dichotomy; to either go for it or let her go. The dice were loaded against the second option, the lady was too lovely, and so he went for the kill.  She was hastily lured by his quirky charm and the boldness of his approach; there was a sense of gravity in his tone and a generosity of spirit in his aura hiding behind a well-preserved youthfulness, the injured arm and the wrinkles notwithstanding. None of them wished to loiter the sharing of a passionate night together, so they started making out in the bar while their friends’ teasing curiosity played on their smiles. “What’s going on with these two like?” “Come to mine”, he said and she, fighting embarrassment, agreed. “Score!” he alleged. “This isn’t a matter of dominance”, she thought, but in their kiss they both understood they played with fire.
Venus, however, was playing her games once again, infusing with comical frustration the shenanigans erotiques.  They were put to test while setting the rules of their game back at his place, as if their spinning match weren’t good enough to enjoy in the raw. “Nice full-frontal but let’s play it safe”, she suggested, and he was blown a cruel joke. “Plastic stinks! Plus I’ve been tested!” he cried, “but I haven’t…” she answered back, “...and haven’t you heard the news recently? The economic crisis has pushed many girls on the game you know, I could be one of those… fancy gambling? you hardly know me!” “What a tease…she’s probably not that whimsical a character after all, and she likely needs to feel more assured…oh yes the old game of security and risk prevailing once again, or a sheer and distasteful hypochondriac – well, it takes one to know one”, he assumed playing the guessing game and not enjoying being beaten.
What a pity, they’d seemed winners but now were losing points, cheated by the circumstances. He couldn’t grab and toss her as he pleased; prowess seriously wounded, right arm in absolute agony, yet the hard-on pumping strong. Insanity! And she wasn’t putting out in his accord. Well, it was only their first night, and this was not rehearsed, and he was a player in defeat after all, alive but not kicking. He became silent and shut down his physical expansion. “Maybe next time”, he thought. Hopeless in his arms, “is this mind game, or is he out of his depth? He seemed to know the moves…I know his arm is incompetent but can’t he try a few tricks to light up the senses? Or is it me? Am I being too inert?” she wondered as she was drifting off; luckily she was deprived of sleep two nights in a row. He remained there anxiously lying in bed, breathing in the sweet warmth of her skin, aching and suffering while the snoring of his drunken flat mate was brushing up across from the living-room. “So much for the full house prediction of the week; I shouldn’t have bothered”, he gathered. The next day they’d play it by ear.
Petrina Cello

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