Emmanuelle. A fantasy.
I was sitting in the bar of the functional hotel, looking at the BBC news on my phone, when I noticed her, sitting, with a book, two tables down. I don't know why I hadn't noticed her before - she must have been sitting there when I arrived. Too self involved I supposed. But something made me look in her direction.
Physically, she was slim and elegant. About forty I'd guess. She was wearing a striped blue and white tee-shirt... a tight one - with a v-neck - that accentuated all the right curves of her petite figure and a short red pencil skirt. I could just make out that her tights were black and sheer. And not being the kind of guy who studies the physicality of a complete stranger, my gaze didn't wander down to her shoes, but also because it was her face that had made me double take. Short, black, almost boyish hair framed a pretty dark features - pale skin but brown, huge eyes. High cheekbones. Full, almost pouty lips. A face that was both exotic and familiar.
She looked up and caught me staring, before I had a chance to look away.
'Can I help you?' She said in a not unfriendly way and it then I first caught the trace of the accent. Not English. Probably European, but not French...maybe German?
'I'm so sorry,' I spluttered, 'I didn't mean to stare. You just reminded me of someone.
'Oh. Someone you know? A friend?'
'Not exactly,' I was blushing now, 'It's ridiculous that I should-...it's just a resemblance, that's all. Someone...sort of famous. Was. A while ago.'
She looked at me grinning.
'Oh now you have to tell me,' she said and yes, I was right, the accent was European, but I still couldn't quite place it. Although I probably should have been able to.
'Well,' I said, 'it's an actor...actress from the seventies...have you ever heard of Sylvia Krystel?'
She smiled. A bright beautiful smile.
'As in the Emmanuelle films? I'm flattered. Oh and I'm Dutch as well, like her, so who knows, maybe we're related in some way.'
A sighed, slightly relieved, glad that I'd effectively admitted watching an early seventies soft porn film, without making her think I was a sleaze.
'I wasn't sure you'd know of her.'
'But of course. She was quite something, wasn't she?' She added, 'I'm Anna.'
'She was. Peter. Pete.' I said and because it seemed appropriate, although terribly British and formal, offered my hand for her to shake.
She slid up to my table, and shook it. Our first touch.
'You like those films?' She asked.
'Well,' I said, aware that I was blushing and that it was probably quite obvious, 'I've seen clips of them. On line.'
Truth was, I'd only really seen one clip, but I'd watched it several times. More than several. I was sort of obsessed with it. A scene from early in the first film, the story of a sexual adventuress, the bored wife of a diplomat, where the central character, played by Sylvia Krystel seduces a guy on a plane. Two guys in fact, over the course of the flight. Mile high. Twice. Two miles high.
Anna was plainly aware of my discomfiture.
'There's no need to be embarrassed. We all like a little eroticism, yes? It's natural.'
This was true, but...
'Yes, but I don't usually gawp at a complete stranger then talk about it.'
She giggled amused. I indicated her book.
'What are you reading?'
'This?'
She picked it up. I could see it had a very luring cover of a scantily clad woman (nothing but a black lace bra).
'This is an erotic novel from my country. Women like to be aroused too, you know,' she said wryly.
She shifted her position slightly and I got a better view of the v-neck in her tee-shirt. It just went down far enough to give me a hint of her cleavage and round breasts underneath the tight fabric. I did my best not to share.
'And that erm...that...' I said, meaning the book, 'that does it for you?'
She lowered head slightly and looked up at me so I could really get the best of those dark brown eyes.
'Not as much as this conversation,'
She was grinning again, a warm, welcoming grin. I too, was feeling very warm indeed.
'So I'm guessing... you are thinking of that scene on the aeroplane?' she asked.
'How did you know that?' I was slightly taken aback at this insight. Or educated guess.
'Well, I've seen the whole film,' she said, 'and some of it's not very nice, but well...'
She patted her book on the table,
I decided to try and relax, It wasn't easy because now, on top of feeling overly warm, I was starting to get aroused too. Just a little. There were very definite stirrings in my groin.
'It's very-....I like that scene very much,' she continued, 'I like it because she's seducing the guy without even touching him.'
I realise now, in hindsight, I was being seduced too, but that's the point of seduction. You don't realise it's happening until it's happened.
'No,' I said, 'he doesn't stand a chance.'
I think I knew exactly how that guy felt.
'So,' she said, 'seduction. How are you at this? How would you seduce me?'
This was very direct. Okay, it was a direct question and an exciting one. It was my turn to be direct back.
'I don't think you're easily seduced, Anna,' I said, 'seduction implies deception, being duped into doing something you wouldn't do, normally. However,' I added,'in your case I'd be very easily tempted to try. I mean, I'd probably hopeless at it, but I'd be sorely tempted.'
'Why?'
'Because, you must know you're very beautiful.'
There. I'd said it.
She paused and grinned again, looking me directly in the eyes.
'Good answer.'
'Would you like a drink?'
She nodded a 'yes please'.
When I returned to the table we chatted some more, although not quite as intensely as our opening salvos had been. She asked why I was at the hotel and I told her about the monthly conference and that I was supposed to be meeting some colleagues, that I'd been late and missed them, that they wouldn't be back until much later, so I'd come to the bar for something to do. It beat sitting on my own in the hotel room. I asked about her, what she did. She too was in town for a business meeting - copywriting. We were both, it turned out married with almost grown up kids. I was doing my best to keep a grip on hearing the conversation, because every time she moved, just the slightest of gestures, or shifting in her seat, I was reminded of how unbelievably sexy she was. And then I was reminded of a certain soft porn film and a scene on a plane with no dialogue. At night. The cabin lights are off. Of a man literally turned on by the gestures and body language of a woman, of the look in her eyes. Of how he knows he wants her, but he can't believe she wants him - he could never be so lucky. Of the courage he has to feel to make that move.
And he does.
And I've always been jealous of him. Hence me watching that scene over and over.
The lights of the bar had been dimmed a little. And this was giving the place a more chilled out and intimate feel despite the fact that more people were arriving and the place was getting a little crowded. In fact, the increasing chatter around us allowed us to be more direct because it was more difficult for anyone to eavesdrop. That and the light jazz they'd started piping through the speakers.
'So. Sex.'
'I'm sorry?'
I was taken aback again.
'Sex.' She said, 'we were talking about it. I would like to talk about it some more, yes?'
It was very matter of fact. Frank. But the content of what she was, saying wasn't.
My loins stirred again. My cock was wanting to spring into action.
'Why Miss Anna,' I said, avoiding the temptation to impersonate Dustin Hoffman, 'are you trying to seduce me?'
She cocked her head to one side and crossed her shapely legs.
'We'll see,' she said, plainly a little amused, 'I'm not sure you are so easily seduced either'
I wanted to immediately say she was utterly and completely wrong there. Certainly at that moment, certainly as far as she was concerned, but maybe I was canny enough to play my cards close to my chest. To try not to look so eager.
'Do you like it? Sex?' she asked.
'Of course. Doesn't everyone?'
'Oh you'd be surprised. I've had lovers who-...'
I loved the fact that she used the word 'lovers'. It seemed very...continental.
'Well it's not that they don't like it,' she continued, 'they don't know how to...enjoy it. Savour it.'
I could see she had a point.
'I guess it's that guys have one aim in mind....well not in 'mind' as such. Almost the opposite. They're physically driven.'