Find what you love and let it kill you.

Monday

The first class is at 7 am. A wonderfully intelligent, talkative, hard-working student. Overly self-critical. He speaks passable English and is steadily improving. You get so engaged in a conversation about potential tax reforms that for a moment you forget the rest of the programme for today. After a cheerful, warm good-bye you suddenly remember. At 12.30 you will take a bus to the city center. Close to the Danube an ex-dancer will share her lunch break with you.

You teach two more private classes until that moment. Eager, concentrated, trying to talk about only those topics the students enjoy and doing all you can to improve their vocabulary.

While you’re walking the sexting starts, because you are an idiot if you think a woman is simply ready for you at the time of the date. You will see each other for exactly 90 minutes, but if you wouldn’t give her attention during the week, genuine attention, and listen to her problems, and share your day with her, you can forget that she will receive you with open arms – and legs – the moment you arrive. Love is the key ingredient.

Lately the ex-dancer, Miska, has been struggling a bit. She has a new boss, Italian, and they are going through chaotic times. She texts you that she doesn’t want anything too demanding today. Just slow stuff. Slow stuff it is then. Miska has had to give up dancing because of a problem with her back. She used to dance professionally in London. She doesn’t often speak about this time. You know she had a relationship with some Russian guy over there, but other than that you get the impression she’s had a pretty tame love life. This suspicion is often confirmed cause even basic stuff is like a big surprise to her. Licking her pussy from behind. Putting one of her legs on a chair. Putting a huge pillow under her lower back during missionary position. She is also completely not used to tenderness. When during your first time together you hold her hands while you are going down on her, she sighs loudly she’s never met someone as sweet and tender as you. A phrase she will often repeat. It makes your heart sing with gratitude. Apparently her Ivan was anything but tender and basically did not do much else than constantly demanding blow-jobs.

Ivan must have rid her of any pleasure derived from sucking cock, because apart from maybe three times in the beginning, she doesn’t do blowjobs. She’s not very good at them, and you never ask her for any. If she doesn’t enjoy it, then there’s absolutely nothing in it for you anyway. She prefers it when you come inside her. She prefers you to come inside her during doggy-style. Even though most of the time you do it just in missionary position. She’s not into any kinky stuff. She always smells like her cherry scented shower gel. She is completely shaved down there, even though I have repeatedly told her there is no need to do that. She’s been doing it since she was 15 and she can’t stand to see any hair there. It makes you shudder. It’s just because of porn. Porn starts are completely shaved these days and even at 15 she was already influenced enough by our pornified culture that she has to modify her look to that of a porn star. Something else she has from porn is that she likes to be forced. It’s a game of course, but during foreplay she likes it when you grab her wrists and push her down on the bed. Ok, maybe here it’s not just porn that is to blame. Once the two of you get going she does respond with much more signs of arousal to tenderness.

There is a deep sense of loneliness around this girl. She’s an only child. Her dancing dream was destroyed. She doesn’t know anyone in Bratislava, apart from colleagues. She lives in a fancy apartment block with a view on the Danube, but she doesn’t know any of her neighbours. And she lives right next to this giant, glittery, overly bright and kitschy shopping mall, Eurovea. A place that has dehumanized consumerism stamped across it.

Although she is clearly intelligent, she spends a lot of time shopping for clothes that are ‘hezky’, which means something like ‘cool’ in Czech.

For someone who used to be a professional dancer she has surprisingly wide thighs and a bit of a belly. She’s taller than you and this one is always wearing high heels, so it’s very clear. But as one of your students has put it so eloquently: anyone can climb a fallen tree.

There is a connection between you derived from the fact that you are both only children. We understand what it is to be alone. We understand what it is to finally NOT be alone. We understand how precious it is to share a moment with someone, to finally have intimacy. Other than that we are well-mannered. We both didn’t have a normal childhood, cause when you are an only child parents have a tendency to just talk to you as though you are also an adult. There’s also a heaviness to us, because any problem our parents had we felt more intensely than in families where there are more children, where the rain cloud of parental sorrows can be avoided more easily. Or at least you’re not alone in building shelters against that rain.

She is quite normal, you are not. You were pretty mauled as a child. Vicarious traumatization you called it, and your long-legged, short-skirted Slovak therapist confirmed. You are both a bit spoilt, but she is very used to being among the well to do, you are not and never will be.

You’ve been meeting her for almost two years now.

During that time she’s had dates, but nothing that let to a steady relationship.

She doesn’t consider you to be her boyfriend.

It’s not clear what you are in her life and sometimes it confuses her. At times she considers if it wouldn’t be better to just talk.

Maybe you are her Monday – sometimes Thursday, sometimes the entire weekend – orgasm therapy.

You listen a lot to stuff going on at her job. You are always grateful you don’t have a corporate job. You would go completely nuts there.

You always bring her mangos. She loves mangos.

Some T-shirts to sleep in.

Postcards from your travels.

And witches. She collects dolls of witches. Any kind, as long as they represent witches.

She has nothing in common with witches though. She has zero interest in anything esoteric. And when you talk to her about psychotherapy and what you have experienced with therapy clients, she think’s it’s all a lot of impractical bullshit. She never says this, maybe she doesn’t even realize that this is her verdict.

This is a hands on girl. According to some system to categorize people there are four types of people. Decision-maker, Innovator, Analyst, and something like Mood enchancer. Those are not the exact terms, but she is definitely a decision-maker. No interest in details. Doesn’t get emotional. Dancing career ruined? Ok, let’s study finance. Better job in Bratislava than in Prague? The company needs someone to fill the position? She will go, no sweat.

Her star sign is Libra. Said to be light, elegant, charming, polite. They can’t say no. They will say yes and bail on you later if they don’t feel like it. A strong sense of justice. I don’t know. Apart from the elegance and the nice manners, the rest doesn’t apply more to her than to any of the others.

She’s especially elegant in her leather boots, red skirt, green blouse and leather jacket.

Other than that she does nothing to try and impress. She has no provocative walk. She doesn’t shake her hips more than is simply natural. She has no studied flirtatious moves. Her breasts are like too small for her body. They are beautiful, pert, with large nipples, but it’s just not what you would expect for someone who is actually quite chubby. Luckily you have never cared about breast size. Legs, yes, breasts no. Rare is the pair of breasts that make you lose control the way thighs can. Or certain type of nose. Yes, nose.

If you would contact her more than is stricly necessary than to keep this arrangement, or whatever you want to call it, going, she would politely fake she is too busy to see you till you give up trying.

You’re so used to her, you are so interested in seeing her evolve, and you find it so soothing to see her climax and not think of work for a while. By far the best part of it all is every time she has an orgasm. That’s the only time she screams. Not very loudly. More like she is always surprised to discover something like an orgastic feeling can exist. Like ‘oooh, look what we have here… that’s actually really enjoyable!’. Then for a moment she seems numb and glassy eyed and strokes my hair for a bit or plays with my fingers. It does feel like winining, to be honest. For a moment. And you hug her and cover her in kisses, it just makes you grateful for the moment.

It takes a lot for this executive to lose control, finally. Basically she gives you the feeling you are worth something. And her formality kinda fascinates you. You were raised in the most informal village you have ever known. She gives you a taste of a world in which you would have thrived so much more easily than in the social underclass world where you come from.

Somehow she is the ideal match for a Monday lunch break. Cause Monday is long. Teaching from 7 am to 8.30 pm. Four different companies plus two private students at home.

Added bonus: she teaches you Czech.

 

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