The joys of silence

At last, a Saturday morning to myself. No visitors, no husband, just me (and my laptop). A moment to enjoy a freshly brewed cup of coffee in bed, reflect on events of recent days and allow myself the tingle of anticipation for the coming week.

I have been making slow, but deliciously tantalising progress with the Russian. We have shared a cup of tea in a tiny cafe, enjoyed lunch between classes and we will be seeing one another this evening at a class outing to the theatre. These small, seemingly meaningless events have always been in the company of others who can interpret for us. It is the strangest thing to have a conversation with him. We talk animatedly with one another, maintaining eye contact, whilst the interpreter translates. The topics of conversation are, naturally, neutral, safe topics. Yet, our eyes are locked in a silent conversation. Frequently, I feel myself blush and have to look away. He has such an intense gaze. He does not look away. I am trying to read him. When he stands next to me in class, demonstrating this or that, I inhale his scent, examine his neck, the stubble on his jaw, his eyes as he focuses on the task at hand. And then there are his hands. Long, slender, elegant fingers. My mind is distracted by thoughts of what it would be like to feel his fingers inside me, to kiss his neck, touch his torso. I feel like a schoolgirl with a crush. Then yesterday, after lunch, we walked back together. The others were lagging behind and so it was just us. We attempted a conversation, cobbling together words from different languages into sentences that probably made no sense. But it didn’t matter. The Russian and I were alone. We walked in the sunshine, smiling at one another and ‘talking’. I longed to touch him, to let him know how much I desire to be alone with him, to ‘tell’ him things without words. But the moment was all too brief. The others caught up and we were no longer alone. I hoped my eyes told him all these things. Tonight we will see one another again, in a crowd of others. But sometimes, when there are many people, it is easier to share moments of intimacy…

So many delicate delights to look forward to – an evening with the Russian tonight and in a few days’ time, the economist will arrive for a brief visit. It is his birthday. Many months ago, I suggested jokingly that he come to spend it with me. And he is. I am thrilled at the prospect of having two nights and days together – a foreign city, no husband, no flatmate. I want to make his birthday one worth remembering… I’m thinking a sensory/sensual day of indulgences 🙂

Teacher’s pet

Day 2 of my challenge to seduce the Russian speaking teacher and I am making some progress. He complimented me on my work during the class and smiled frequently at me when giving a demonstration. I have enrolled in an extra curricular class he will be teaching two evenings a week. When I mentioned it to him, he looked genuinely happy and told me (via the interpreter) that he was glad I would be joining the class. I am excited. I might also learn something in the process. An added bonus!

There is something so incredibly sexy about an authoritative figure, a teacher. I love to learn. Always have. I have very fond memories of my Philosophy teacher who took me to bed when I was still in high school. It was such a thrill and yes, I did learn a lot that night.