1. The Tales From The Tavern: I Lust After Your Scar


    Date: 8/18/2015, Categories: Love Stories, Author: el_henke, Rating: 2, Source: LushStories

    excite me, to light a forgotten flame between my legs that seemed to flash up every time we flirted, or even at the mere thought of him. Was I too gradually falling for that man? Was I too acting like these impious sluts that were so desperately trying to get laid? Me? Really? Falling for him? A man almost twenty years my senior? Get it out of your head, girl. He's just being friendly, and he's way out of your league. The nice guy next door. What could he possibly find in you? Unexperienced, naïve, childish... Hideous? Cut the crap, girl! He's just another guy. Once we had moved all his stuff into his house, we both sat down at his kitchen table. It's only then that I realized I'd actually never been in there before. The accommodation was very tasteful, that I could tell; very inviting, in fact. Everything was well-groomed, and clean. He had just a that slight bit of a mess, and few magazines lying around to prevent his otherwise perfectly arranged home from emanating a sterile atmosphere. Another attribute about him that made him a genuine female magnet, so to say. But there had to be something. One flaw. At least one little detail, however tiny it might be, that was wrong. How could he be so perfect, and yet have no 'Mrs Jordan' to spend his life with. Even the home-made cookies he offered me were perfect. I gradually became somewhat obsessed with the thought of tracking down his imperfection. He was too good to be true. Everything he did appeared so well-thought, trained, ...
    and controlled, a lot like the Shaolin monk who had practiced the same kick ten thousand times in order to master it to absolute perfection. It bothered me, and yet he fascinated me. It was decided! I wouldn't let go of him until I had found his one flaw. That thought caused an adrenaline rush in me. I felt my heart beat so intensely that it felt as if it might burst right through my thorax. A part of me was afraid David could see the palpitations through my shirt. Or was I excited because of him? Because he was the perfect man? For the next days, we kept our flirting going, much to the resentment of my fellow female neighbors. Sometimes, he invited me over to share his closing-time beer along with a few not-so-serious flatteries, and a little gossiping, all the while I was obsessively trying to crack that tough nut of a flaw that simply wouldn't show. The only thing I ever observed was that I caught him staring at my scar a few times. But, hey, he was just human after all. I didn't really mind, as it reminded me of my place in this world. It gave me the security of knowing that he didn't hang out with me because he didn't just see the vulnerable girl I was, or didn't just want to play with me, that he was just being a true friend. Still, my mind would not let go of the eventuality of having him suddenly overwhelmed by an animalistic desire to consume me as the female prey I was little by little becoming. Then again, each time I stood naked in front of the full-length mirror ...
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