Table Shower -periodic

Sample English texts: Two strings to Leon's Bow

"Fantastic, well written and totally hot! "
Comment by Violet Blue, Best Editing of Women's Erotica series from Cleis Press, to the short story Two Strings to Leon's Bow

Two Strings to Leon's Bow

Anais Morten

Flirting lazily with Leon again, I wonder when he will make the first move to go any further. Not that I’m afraid of taking the initiative if necessary. In fact, there’s something rather attractive about men who know how to enjoy passivity. But I’m always curious to learn how a man expresses himself when it comes to hitting on a woman. It reveals so much of a man’s personality. And especially with Leon it will be very interesting. Trust Leon to not rely on any common standard pick-up formulas!

But god, the man really isn’t in a particular hurry, and my libido rapidly loses its limited patience. There is no progress, in spite of all the promising looks with those infamous, wonderful blue eyes, and in spite of the shocks of electricity he shoots through my system whenever randomly touching me – and he does that deliberately, I swear! He’s like that, a human stingray, able to apply a deadly dose of venom with one finger. He stirs up my blood in a sly and completely unfair way with his sexy voice when we’re rehearsing our scenes together – mind you, he literally fills my ears with the fluid raw pure essence of masculinity… oh, I lost my train of thought… What I wanted to say was: Though he winds me up and turns me on and thrills me through and through, the bastard hasn’t taken this anywhere near what I need. And I need it soon.

Now there he’s chilling on his seat in the pub, right across the table, idly leaning back and watching me through frayed lashes, an annoying smile in the corner of his wicked mouth. Damn him. His dark hair is shoulder length, framing his angular face with those high cheekbones. His hands… no, I won’t go there. Damn him, damn him again.

Suddenly he turns his head just a little bit, his eyes slowly wandering sideways… and I can almost see his look flitting off like a laser beam, crossing the room – and when I follow his look, realisation hits and almost knocks me off my seat.

It’s Alan over there, leaning at the bar, apparently relaxed, but I can see the tension in his muscles. He receives Leon ’s glance like a gift, catching it and acknowledging it with a nearly imperceptible graceful and grateful look.

One look, and suddenly it’s all so obvious. How could I fail to notice it earlier? Leon has indulged Alan with tender attention that is far too constant and refined to be nothing more than an ironic game to embarrass the blond man. Okay, the rugbytackles and other sorts of affectionate rough handling one can pass off as some more of his crazy jokes, but in retrospect I can recall more than enough moments during filming when Leon’s hand lingered just a few seconds too long on Alan’s back; when he stood just a little too close; when he eyed him in a way that was simply too… how can I describe it? Too desirous, too admiring, too challenging, too lascivious, too threatening – all at once.

In a flash of a moment I remember one event especially: Alan had brought a bottle of wine to one of our informal cast meetings, and Leon ran into him – intentionally, as I know now but didn’t know then – and Alan dropped the bottle. There was a thick carpet on the floor, so it didn’t break when it fell. Alan immediately got down on his knees to pick it up. Leon roughly grabbed his hair and held him down. Alan froze; my breath hitched. Leon gave a hoarse, throaty laugh, like a wild Indian in a cowboy movie who’s just about to scalp his victim. But instead, Leon slid gracefully down on his knees beside Alan. With sudden kindness and warmth in his eyes he placed a little kiss on his cheek, robbed him off the bottle and jumped up again. Elastically springing into the middle of the room he uncorked the bottle and announced the party started. Alan still knelt on the floor, confused.

How on earth could I have ignored the obvious right in front of my eyes? But hey, it was Leon , and everybody knows that he’s stark raving mad. How clever that craziness is… you can hide your intentions so well behind craziness…!

Leon, that bastard, had been flirting with Alan all along, but I was so busy going after him myself I overlooked it. Usually I’m not that blind, so that concerns me a bit, but now is not the time to contemplate the implications.

My eyes meet Alan’s and I have the strange impression of looking in a mental mirror, because Alan grasps for the first time what’s been going on between Leon and me, too. We stare at each other in mutual bafflement and momentary hostility, and Leon looks back and forth between us with increasing amusement. Bastard! We look back at Leon , then at each other, all in all creating a fascinating spider web of looks across the room.
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