Saturday, 8 April 2017

Mall sex with Eden and the Dead Sea hand cream


I was walking through the mall today and I got shanghaied by a hand cream girl at one of those kiosks you find in the aisles. You know the type: they usually sell hand creams and lotions with ingredients like "salt from the Dead Sea" to exfoliate and soften tired old working hands like mine, and the booths are always manned by at least two people - one woman and one man, the better to do that shanghaiing they do so well.

Anyway, her name was Eden and she spoke with a thick French accent that wasn't from Quebec or France for that matter. North African, perhaps? Could be. She was very pretty with big eyes - the better to hold my gaze - and Mediterranean features. I'd like to say Moroccan, because it sounds sexy.

And she was that and more. She massaged my hands with both creams (including the exfoliating number with the Dead Sea salt) and she invaded my personal space the entire ten minutes of our exhilarating but so brief relationship. I didn't mind one bit.

I know she was working me and I know she was working me hard, with her adorably-accented broken English going a mile a minute during her sales patter. I know all this and I still almost fell for her pitch.

She talked dirty to me, man.

And once I was able to tear myself away from her eyes, I talked dirty to her too. And the whole while she was touching me or leaning in close to tell me how the cream would be in the shower and wouldn't it be nice to shower with her and would you like to kiss me?

Admittedly that last line was uttered when she felt the sale slipping away but still, it was wonderful.

It was the best sex I've had in years.

Despite all her efforts I had to say no as even dirty talk from a beautiful woman can't change the numbers in my bank account. But we left on good terms - or so I thought, anyway - and I agreed to stop by the next time I was in the mall to give her another crack at wearing me down.

As luck would have it I had to make a return visit to the Oshawa Centre a few hours later and I saw Eden chatting up another potential client (a woman, so I wasn't tooo jealous) on my way to the phone store.

I'll say hi on the way back, I said. And I did.

"Hi Eden," I bellowed in my loudest and sexiest voice.

She either didn't hear me or ignored me. So I tried to catch her eye and waved to her. She ignored me again.

It hurts to say this, but I think the love affair is over.

I miss you Eden.

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