Dating a Married Woman

I heard sounds of heels clicking, and looking up, I saw her walking to me. Holding my phone in my hands, I hid behind the front of a busy man to show that I wasn’t anxious about seeing her, even though I was, deep inside my heart.

She was dressed in a white shirt that had a loose collar, and she showed her slender legs under her short skirt. She was beautiful; everything about her was  perfect, even the red purse she carried with her. I found myself having a hard time taking my eyes off her. She inched nearer to me, and clung on to my arm. The awkwardness felt from her touch overwhelmed me. After all, I’ve been married for years, and that was a little weird.

“Sorry I’m late.” She said with the voice that would make me weak.

“It’s alright. We’re still early.” I assured.

We walked into the restaurant that was busying preparing for the arrival of lunch customers. A reservation was made prior our visit, and we were early. Seats were arranged near the conveyor belt inside that Japanese restaurant we decided on weeks ago.

“The salmons they serve here are good.” She told me. She continued to impress me with her taste for good food, and most importantly, salmon.

She took a plate from the table, and walked to the belt, carefully picking pieces of fresh salmon and bits of wasabi paste. She knew exactly what would satisfy my picky tongue.

“These are for you.” She said with her sweet smile. The smile that any man would die for. I picked up the chopsticks and helped myself, not before putting a piece on to her personal plate. What every man should do.

Every seconds, patrons walked past us, busying with their trip to and fro the conveyor belt, but we couldn’t be bothered to take notice of anyone. We chatted, we joked, and we laughed, and soon, her eyes met mine. The moment we looked into the souls of each other. The restaurant we were in was going vacant, as patrons were leaving after they had their fill. We just did not notice; we had our eyes only on each other.

Before long, it was time to leave. The restaurant had to prepare the kitchen for dinner. We asked for the bill.

“Let me do it.” She said, pulling out her card while she was waiting for the waitress to bring the bill over. I awed at the woman she was. That second I saw myself falling deeper in love with this woman in front of me.

After having the bill signed, we stood up, and we were ready to leave. She walked to me, and like what she did two hours ago, she clung on to my arm, and waited for me to take the first step out of this place that we would have beautiful memories of. As we walked, she moved her hand down to my palm, and slid her fingers into mine. Our fingers crossed and we were holding our hands like what every loving couples do.

Out of the restaurant, I thanked her for the lunch that she had paid for.

“Silly.” She said, still with her smile. “We got to go.”

“Yeah, I know. Time flies.” I said.

Without saying another word, she moved her lips to mine. Slowly and tenderly, she kissed me on my lips. Taking the chance, I slide my hands around her waist and pulled her toward me. In full view of the public, I kissed her soft lips and enjoyed the moment of intimacy. Seconds went by before we parted our lips to look at each other in the eyes. I glided my fingers on her cheeks, not saying a word. She rubbed her nose on mine, still smiling, and said to me:

“Happy anniversary, my dear husband.”

 

Andy Lawson is the average man on the street that you’ll not even trouble yourself looking at him if he passes by you. He’s sensitive to bullshit, and he hates mediocrity in most people.

He is the author of his self-published book: Facts and Fiction of Fengshui: Facts that Masters are NOT Telling You.

He doesn’t have Facebook or Twitter, because he hates to be associated with people who tend to be passive-aggressive online, but he does have a very limited set of vocabularies, terrible grammar, a twisted mind that makes himself God in his own twisted world and an ability to communicate with people who wish to be his friend.