lancez d'abord la partie un (First Fling part 1)

The air was cold that night, cold even by winter solstice standards. The sky was clear. Sally looked up, she could see a universe. She felt small but comforted by her own insignificance and the reassurance of infinite possibility. It allowed her to feel that nothing she did really mattered.

In the outside courtyard of the intercity cafe the wind licked around her and she hugged her shoulders for warmth. Retrieving an antique cigarette case from her handbag she lent forward and lit a cigarette off the candle in the middle of the table. Reclining, she ordered a glass of red wine from a passing waitress.

Modern relationships don't seem to be able to exist without the internet. It connects us. It frees us. Sally had never tried internet dating before. This was the first fling, as she described it to friends. Some ridiculed her, others were pleased that she was finally putting herself out there again after a rather messy divorce.

Waiting for her date and her glass of wine she had already made a decision. She was going to have sex tonight, it was fait accomplis. It had been six years since she had really embraced her own sexual identity. Not to say that her marriage had not been fulfilling. However, in the previous weeks she had felt an element of herself awakening, like a wave within her, consuming her. A latent personality that had been buried in duty. She mourned. She reveled.

She needed a drink, where was that fucking waitress!

An irritating bleep of a mobile phone. The waitress returned with a bottle of wine. Sally hadn't ordered a bottle, but the error pleased her. Checking her message as wine was poured for her she expressed her gratitude with a shy nod.

Greg was running late. It occurred to her that she had changed her hair since the photos on the dating site where posted.

"oh," read her text reply, "you might not recognize me, I have black hair now."

"Yeah, well, I'll be the short, fat, bald guy in a Hawaiian shirt with gold chains, ok?"

"Well, at least you have the common decency to let me down gently, see you soon!."

Smiling to herself she drank from her glass. Liquid Joy. She lit another cigarette from the candle and took a novel from her bag. Michel Houellebecq. As Sally read of the sexual misadventures of a middle aged couple in a nudist colony in France she felt more alive and more explicit than she remembered feeling in a long time. Risk is seductive.

A tall blond man in faded denim jeans and a tight black long sleeve crew neck, looked at her briefly, smiled and kept walking. He was distinctive. Greg had walked right past her. Sally felt a pit in her stomach. He paused and turned around, cocking his head slightly to the left he said, "Sally?"

"Hey," she said. It amazed her how comfortably she fell back into the role of seductress.

Sitting down and pouring himself a glass of wine Greg apologized, "I can't believe I walked right by you, you look so different, your photos don't do you justice, did you know?"

"Told you," smirked Sally, "No Hawaiian shirt, I do love a good hibiscus."

Greg was striking. Comfortably six foot with a relaxed charm and blue eyes you just want swim in on a summer afternoon. Sally watched the muscles in his shoulder and upper arm flex under his shirt as he reached across the table to get a menu.

"You know I'm vegetarian but I'm not religious, you indulge in whatever you like," Greg said as he perused the menu.

I think I just might, thought Sally. When we are very fortunate we meet a person with whom sexual chemistry comes more naturally than breathing.

They drank, they laughed and the night wore on. They finished the bottle of wine and no one offered to take their order. Food was off the menu. Mildly angered by the poor service they decided to try another venue.

Greg was tall and Sally was small. He outpaced her in an effort to keep warm. Sally reached out and held the inner of his elbow to slow him. As she touched him she felt herself moved. Affected.

"I'm shorter than you, remember, short girl, little legs."

Ordering their second bottle of wine for the evening in a personable pub they found a comfortable nook opulently lit in which to enjoy it.

Sally ranted, as she often did, about social inequity and various other issues that she no authority to speak on but held a fixed opinion none the less. Greg said little but he smiled.

"You know your interesting," he said with a charming smile

"So, sex," said Sally, "do you do it?"

Stay tuned, campers.