There are places within the human anatomy that fascinates you more than others. It’s not the usual suspect… No this place is both visible yet hiding unimaginable depths within its natural cavity. I am talking about the suprasternal notch. it’s where you would place a flat golden necklace with a single pearl, the spot that gets dabbed with Cuir de Russie before you embark on your nocturnal excursions, and it’s also the place you find incredibly delightful to play with.
…and so starts this tale. On the backseat of a Vespa, cruising the streets of a European city drenched in artificial lights. There are no stars here.
He drops you off at the other side of a park. It is now dark, set aside the chandeliers casting off a warm glow on the sidewalk. You step off, slightly disoriented. Where is the taxi stand?
The other side, he nods in a direction which will take you another quarter to reach. Set aside walking in utter darkness through what looks like a muddy lawn. It’s been raining. And you are cold.
He takes you hand and draws you closer. Fumbling.
No, you hush.
But no doesn’t really cut it. Why would it? He is not someone who takes no for an answer in his natural habitat.
Well this is going to be a challenge. And you certainly thrive on challenges.
So you play…giving in, before rejecting the invite.
He watches you….perplexed. Grabbing your wrists. Strong hands, yet you free yourself… in an act of sheer defiance.
For a moment you are equals, despite your disadvantage of both height and power. You run your hand across his face, before placing your thumb in the intersection of his collarbone. You have reached his suprasternal notch. It is pulsating from the adrenaline fueled blood flowing through his veins. Yes for a split second you imagine the physiological responses taking place within his bodily edifice. Like being under attack, yet the thrill asks for more.
You let go.
I really need to leave. He remains silent, and so you head to the taxi stand.
…and then you call Cicero.