Soon, My Friend (Currently Editing)

See you soon

The time had passed over half past eleven when I cleared off some tables in the pub. My stomach rumbled and suddenly I felt so hungry I might as well could've broken my arm.

There were not many people visiting the pub, really. Thursday morning, only a few people sat upstairs on the upper floor and enjoyed a few pints. Despite my shower in the morning I felt gross and muggy and I had a sore throat. Some kind of a summer cold, I guessed it was.

I put down a few empty pint glasses and a couple of bowls with ice cream leftovers in the sink in the back room and drank some soda I had received from one of my colleagues.

Simon had returned from Spain, a little more coloured (sunburned) and barely said a word to me. I felt bad because I was so eager to talk to people and to socialize. Then my phone vibrated in my bra cup and I was quick in movements as I picked it up to find out who had texted me.

It was Harry.

A smile spread out on my face and I took a step aside as I opened the message. Harry and I hadn't seen each other since the evening he visited me about a week ago, but we had texted each other frequently over the last five-six days.

It always took me such a long time before I replied his texts. Not because I forgot them, believe me, it was rather that I had to proofread them over and over again. It didn't matter whether it was a little OK, cool, or a longer message - I always proofread.

Oh, and towards the end of the texts, he'd even begun to write X's.

He answered to a question I had earlier sent him, and it said:

Well, I might as well
just pack you down
in my suitcase. xx.

Though I had quite a lot to do as more guest came by, I couldn't shake off the memories of Harry's fingers, his mouth and moans on my sofa. And I just couldn't stop grinning. Ever. A couple of friends, two older ladies, perhaps they were sisters, sat ready with their menus and were really sweet as they ordered: "A glass of white wine. Not too bitter, please, I'll get the headaches." said the tallest of them and smiled.

He pushed the edge of my panties aside with his trembling fingers.

"Of course." I smiled and wrote it down on the notepad for once.

"And I'd like to just have a lemonade, please." said the the other lady. She wore large sunglasses, despite the fact that they sat inside, like she was still stuck in the '80s.

His left hand caressed my back, he moaned in my mouth and his other hand worked his way carefully between my legs. I let out a groan in between his lips I'd tried to hold back, grabbed him by the hair and lifted me up on my knees. Then he fucking straddled me.

Maybe they were tourists, despite the floating English.

Harry made this intensely.. like panting-sounds and moved his hand and fingers faster.

No, fuck it, they were definitely Scousers.

He kissed me eagerly, his lips moved quickly and smoothly along with my jaw, my chin, my neck, my collarbone.

"I will be right back."

And at some point I was about to get off, but Harry misunderstood and thought it had happened already, so he slowed down the pace, removed hands off me. At first I shook my head, but then I remembered that perhaps he was exhausted, so I played along and laughed softly, my lips ghosting the shell of his ear.

I looked down at him and my eyes widened in surprise. I had planted a large and red love bite on his neck - just across the nape of it - and another one just above, slightly weaker.