Narrow eyes

The following night, Curtis appeared very early. The bar was empty, so I could not ignore him or pretend to be awfully busy with someone else. I expected him to be a bit angry at me, or at least despondent. Instead he came to me with a broad smile, that made his eyes narrower. I love narrow eyes: they have something naughty, if not evil, that always intrigued me.

He started his usual polite routine conversation: a nice compliment for the dress, then about the way I wore it, he inquired about my work, always avoiding my private life. We talked casually about the bar and the busy season at the hotel. He hardly ever offered any information about himself, but that night he spoke about his grown up son, about his daughter, still at high school, about his parents, who divorced when he was only a child. He was charming, and witty, and sometime he looked genuinely sad. I tried as I could to steer away from the sensitive topics. Of course we had a couple of drinks and we got closer. He caressed my arms, in his own special way. I liked that, he really could turn me on with that simple gesture. No, he was not angry at me, not at all.

The evening passed on, he asked sometimes about me, I answered only when I felt it appropriate. I didn’t want him to become too intimate. I know it sounds strange, given what already happened just two nights before, but after all he had tipped me very generously for that massage, it was a business transaction, nothing to do with my private self.

Still, Curtis had a way of chatting that I found irresistible. He was funny, but in a smart way. He never insulted me, as many customers do even without noticing. Just because I work  in a bar and sometime I like mercenary sex, I am neither stupid, nor ignorant . I had a good education, although I decided not to use it for my job. So we could have a significant conversation, although I felt compelled to make him feel much more intelligent than me. Men usually like that – and I find exciting seeing them basking in my admiration.

It was almost time to close, we were still chatting and laughing and drinking. I really felt hot. “What do you think of a Jacuzzi, Curtis?” I asked suddenly. He opened his eyes, surprised. Before he could say anything, I stood up, waiting for him to follow me.