Erotica Gone Awry

The bistro bustled with activity and the scurry of servers and busboys who always managed to tend to Harold without seeing him. It was precisely 5:28, a full two minutes before he typically arrived at the restaurant after a quick visit to the newsstand up the street.

The maître d’ recognized Harold with an air of polite condescension before seating him at his usual table in the back near the kitchen. After signaling the waiter, then the busboy and then anyone who could have provided him with a glass of water Harold sighed and settled into his paper.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” he heard a husky feminine voice.

It was an odd introduction as the bistro was empty when Harold had arrived.

“ErrrUmmm…” Harold stammered in a response that was somewhat less sophisticated than he’d intended.

“Mysty Lamar,” the woman interrupted before Harold had a chance to blabber more inanities, “the unconventional spelling with a ‘y,’” she continued, lustily, and then gave him a slow wink that reminded Harold of a garage door closing.

“I’m not expecting…who are you?” Harold said once he’d finally recovered a few of his wits.

“I’ve been watching you for some time,” Mysty said, “you frequent the newsstand up the street?”

Harold nodded, mostly to himself, and allowed that he did buy periodicals from the aforementioned newsstand.

“I too am fascinated with the printed word. I find men who read to be quite…enticing,” Mysty said, “men like yourself Mr…?”

“Mr. Harold,” he said blushing profusely, “Mr. Endsworth,”he attempted again, “Mr. Harold Endsworth,” he finished.

Harold’s eyes darted around the bistro, not quite sure exactly what he was looking for. The waiter, thankfully, took Harold’s glancings as a cue to come over.

“Champagne, Perrier Jouet,” Mysty clarified, “strawberries and oysters,” she finished before waving the server away and lighting a cigarette.

“I don’t think you can smoke in here,” Harold said tentatively.

“Does it make you uncomfortable?” Mysty said as she inhaled.

Her body was immediately wracked by a coughing fit of such epic proportions that it shook the table itself and upended her purse which, in turn, spilled a number of vibrators and skin magazines onto the ornately tiled restaurant floor…(to read more just click through to Erotica Gone Awry on The Haven)

About the Author

derekbremer Prior to his life as a stay at home father Derek spent more than a decade performing public relations and marketing functions for financial consulting firms and found the job to be precisely as exciting as it sounds. When not tending to his wife or daughter Derek enjoys subjecting the public to his unique take on fatherhood, travel and animal husbandry. He has been published in Scary Mommy, Sammiches and Psych Meds, The Good Men Project, HowToBeADad, Red Tricycle, RAZED, HPP and the Anthology "It's Really Ten Months Special Delivery: A Collection of Stories from Girth to Birth.