I enter the waiting room of the doctor's office. A forty-year-old and beautiful woman is flipping through a well-worn copy of Hola magazine, worn out from years of handling. I sit down in front of her and pretend to read an Autoclub magazine, one year old or so.
We're not alone: my imagination is seated beside me, quickly getting to work.
I think: What a piece of woman! What eyes and eyelashes! What plump lips! What phenomenal breasts! Nature must have given her a round bum and some bounce to balance the load and keep her center of gravity in place.
And those legs! Rare to see legs these days. Women all wear pants now. I'm a man who loves legs, especially with silk or nylon stockings.
I know I'm old-fashioned. But they used to cross their legs and make a suishh-suishh sound: suishh-suishh. I'd go crazy for a suishh-suishh.
Reality is what actually happens:
I realize I've got the magazine upside down, and she's pointing it out. A mocking smile spreads across her face, and there's a twinkle in her eye.
I imagine she thinks: What a funny guy! Reading a magazine with its head facing down!
He's looking at my legs under the magazine. I uncross and re-cross them. Let him learn!
I imagine I think: She uncrossed and recrossed them again! Oh God, it was to kill me, to make me die of embarrassment. She knows I'm staring at her.
I imagine she thinks: He's kind of charming. Poor old guy, serious but getting hot. Does he have any left?
I imagine I say: I'll rip off your clothes, leave you naked, and kiss you from the tip of your right foot to your pinky toe!
I imagine I think: What a scene if the receptionist opens the door and finds us naked on the floor, my head buried in her pubic hair. The receptionist: What is this?! Me: It's not what you're thinking. A piece of trash got stuck in... Mrs.' eye and I am trying to get it out.
The assistant: Don't tell me! Don't you think the eye is far away from there?
I: That's what the Santa Lucia Eye Institute recommends, not to damage the pupil: blow there, not directly.
Reality:
I think: How do I get out of this pickle? I have to make some reference to the inverted magazine. I'm not a teenage guy.
I imagine that I think:
Already know: I pretend to examine the magazine from closer and comment loudly: I thought it was Russian
There she laughs and I say: And what about your Hola magazine? I think it's so old that it's printed on parchment instead of paper.
We both laugh civilly, like two normal people. Then we'll chat cordially. As soon as she distracts herself for an instant, I'll pounce on her and rip off her outer and inner clothes, leaving not a centimeter of her skin without licking.
I imagine that she thinks:
It seems to me he's the shy type. Distinguished, Respectful. He must be the kind who asks: Ma'am or Miss? Most people today enter with the pointy plugs... Yes, this one is different.
I imagine that I think:
What do I say? Something has fallen ripe: the doctor.
Variant 1:
I imagine that I say: Is it your first consultation?
She: No, the doctor has been treating me for years. And you, are you here for your annual check-up?
I: No, I have a throat problem.
Variant 1-A. I imagine that I say: Do you want to see? It's right behind here. But with this light, I don't think you can... I have an idea: let's go to my house. It's less than 200 meters away. The light is much better and... my favorite position is missionary but I'll adapt to any other one you choose! Ahhh! I assure you that it won't bother me if you, afterwards, hang your little skirt on the shower drain.
Variant 1-B. I imagine that she says: Poor guy, how must he be suffering! Come here and give him a kiss and let his head rest on my chest and it will pass.
I imagine that I reply: Resting his head on those lemons of yours won't... I'm not sure it must be veryyyyy comfortable, but a little kiss outside I don't think would be enough. Maybe if her tongue …… “What heat! It's clear it's summer and the clothes are uncomfortable. Let's go to my house. We can get comfortable, drink refreshments, and ….. do what you're thinking of.
Variant2:
I imagine myself thinking: She's arriving at the end of her magazine. She gave me a look. It must be now or never.
Variant2-A.
Me: Are you here for ... a leg wax? Or is it something more?
Her: I'm going to confide something personal in you, I need someone in my life, someone grey-haired, serious and distinguished.
Me: You've found the right person. I'll rip off your clothes, leave you naked and kiss you all over starting from the little toe of your right foot!!
Variant2-B.
Me: Better not say anything! What a piece of woman! Who am I? Those two legs are more than I can handle. If it were just one, but the two!! Forget about those two shrimp, think about your health, which is better. Of course, ….. maybe saying something won't hurt. She seems like the type who likes to talk with her mouth full of words. I'll say something like Do you always come here? Do you like the Beatles? What do you think of Comet Haley?
Reality, what actually happens:
I'm thinking: My God, she's going to speak!!
-Señor, could you …-
-No! ... I mean yes!-
-Can I reach for another magazine, please?-
-Ughhh! ... Is it people or Week?
-People, thank you very much. –
-You're welcome. -
Instantly afterwards, the assistant opens the door to the waiting room:
-Next, please-
I never saw her again.
We're not alone: my imagination is seated beside me, quickly getting to work.
I think: What a piece of woman! What eyes and eyelashes! What plump lips! What phenomenal breasts! Nature must have given her a round bum and some bounce to balance the load and keep her center of gravity in place.
And those legs! Rare to see legs these days. Women all wear pants now. I'm a man who loves legs, especially with silk or nylon stockings.
I know I'm old-fashioned. But they used to cross their legs and make a suishh-suishh sound: suishh-suishh. I'd go crazy for a suishh-suishh.
Reality is what actually happens:
I realize I've got the magazine upside down, and she's pointing it out. A mocking smile spreads across her face, and there's a twinkle in her eye.
I imagine she thinks: What a funny guy! Reading a magazine with its head facing down!
He's looking at my legs under the magazine. I uncross and re-cross them. Let him learn!
I imagine I think: She uncrossed and recrossed them again! Oh God, it was to kill me, to make me die of embarrassment. She knows I'm staring at her.
I imagine she thinks: He's kind of charming. Poor old guy, serious but getting hot. Does he have any left?
I imagine I say: I'll rip off your clothes, leave you naked, and kiss you from the tip of your right foot to your pinky toe!
I imagine I think: What a scene if the receptionist opens the door and finds us naked on the floor, my head buried in her pubic hair. The receptionist: What is this?! Me: It's not what you're thinking. A piece of trash got stuck in... Mrs.' eye and I am trying to get it out.
The assistant: Don't tell me! Don't you think the eye is far away from there?
I: That's what the Santa Lucia Eye Institute recommends, not to damage the pupil: blow there, not directly.
Reality:
I think: How do I get out of this pickle? I have to make some reference to the inverted magazine. I'm not a teenage guy.
I imagine that I think:
Already know: I pretend to examine the magazine from closer and comment loudly: I thought it was Russian
There she laughs and I say: And what about your Hola magazine? I think it's so old that it's printed on parchment instead of paper.
We both laugh civilly, like two normal people. Then we'll chat cordially. As soon as she distracts herself for an instant, I'll pounce on her and rip off her outer and inner clothes, leaving not a centimeter of her skin without licking.
I imagine that she thinks:
It seems to me he's the shy type. Distinguished, Respectful. He must be the kind who asks: Ma'am or Miss? Most people today enter with the pointy plugs... Yes, this one is different.
I imagine that I think:
What do I say? Something has fallen ripe: the doctor.
Variant 1:
I imagine that I say: Is it your first consultation?
She: No, the doctor has been treating me for years. And you, are you here for your annual check-up?
I: No, I have a throat problem.
Variant 1-A. I imagine that I say: Do you want to see? It's right behind here. But with this light, I don't think you can... I have an idea: let's go to my house. It's less than 200 meters away. The light is much better and... my favorite position is missionary but I'll adapt to any other one you choose! Ahhh! I assure you that it won't bother me if you, afterwards, hang your little skirt on the shower drain.
Variant 1-B. I imagine that she says: Poor guy, how must he be suffering! Come here and give him a kiss and let his head rest on my chest and it will pass.
I imagine that I reply: Resting his head on those lemons of yours won't... I'm not sure it must be veryyyyy comfortable, but a little kiss outside I don't think would be enough. Maybe if her tongue …… “What heat! It's clear it's summer and the clothes are uncomfortable. Let's go to my house. We can get comfortable, drink refreshments, and ….. do what you're thinking of.
Variant2:
I imagine myself thinking: She's arriving at the end of her magazine. She gave me a look. It must be now or never.
Variant2-A.
Me: Are you here for ... a leg wax? Or is it something more?
Her: I'm going to confide something personal in you, I need someone in my life, someone grey-haired, serious and distinguished.
Me: You've found the right person. I'll rip off your clothes, leave you naked and kiss you all over starting from the little toe of your right foot!!
Variant2-B.
Me: Better not say anything! What a piece of woman! Who am I? Those two legs are more than I can handle. If it were just one, but the two!! Forget about those two shrimp, think about your health, which is better. Of course, ….. maybe saying something won't hurt. She seems like the type who likes to talk with her mouth full of words. I'll say something like Do you always come here? Do you like the Beatles? What do you think of Comet Haley?
Reality, what actually happens:
I'm thinking: My God, she's going to speak!!
-Señor, could you …-
-No! ... I mean yes!-
-Can I reach for another magazine, please?-
-Ughhh! ... Is it people or Week?
-People, thank you very much. –
-You're welcome. -
Instantly afterwards, the assistant opens the door to the waiting room:
-Next, please-
I never saw her again.
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