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Black Out

Black Out

Description : Black Out
Three weeks of hearing his voice and I was addicted. While my sister was busy doing whatever she had to do every Saturday for the past three weeks for her realty work, she dropped me off at a café so I wouldn’t get in her way and annoy her. So for those three Saturdays, I had my ears glued to the door of that café, waiting for him to walk in and order his tall cappuccino. His voice was deep, rough and warming. His scent filled the room and made me want to wear leather and drink the men’s cologne Joop, just so I could have it surrounding me all the time.


That word never really crossed my mind. Mainly because my first and only time was not worth remembering. I had been eighteen when I met the unnameable and he had swooned his way into my life. I thought he was the one. He showered me with gifts and sweet words. Until I gave him my virginity. As soon as he’d donned the condom, stuck it in me—and Jesus, it had hurt so much, I was ready to punch the uncaring idiot in the throat— he’d thrust three times and grunted in my ear. The next day when I rang him, he said he didn’t want to hang, that I was a lousy lay.

So anyone could understand why sex, lust or making love never crossed my mind.

Until him, the stranger in the café.

It sounded strange; I knew it did. I wasn’t usually a stalker type of person, but it was a small enjoyment in my troubled life, and it wasn’t harming anyone in return.

So yet another Saturday, and I found myself sitting in that café drinking a coffee and nibbling on a blueberry muffin, while I waited to get my pleasure for the day of hearing his voice.

The bell over the café door rang, heavy footstepsing in and walking toward the front counter. I knew this with relative ease because every time I walked in, I’d counted the amount of...