Tuesday, 30 June 2015

The Night Visitor




At some point during my stay in Venice Beach, a man and a woman were sharing the three-bedroom bungalow with me. They were both European and each of us had his own room. We were all pretty much the same age and we got along fine. 



After about a week living together, I went to the bathroom one night then came back to my room and shut the door. By the time I was in bed, I found the door open. I thought I didn’t close it properly, so I got half-up, reaching my hand and closed it, and went back to bed. It was almost pitch black. 



A moment later, the door opens again and someone stood there for a moment before spreading their arm to the nearby switch. I assumed they were trying to turn the light on. The switch in my room, however, is not the light, but it’s the fan. 



I could already see a fine, sexy female silhouette, which startled me. The girl living with us doesn’t have such curves, or so I thought. What the heck happened, I wondered while remaining under the cover, holding it in my hands like a terrified child. 



Before I keep going in my mind, the light in the bathroom was turned on and the door was closed. 


Alright, back to my self-talk. 



So…what just happened? 



I don’t know. But that was a really hot body. 



Well, forget about her body now. 



How can I forget and I feel betrayed by my own senses? It’s been more than a week after all and we’re sharing a house, dude. The girl was actually interested in you but she was not your type — character or physical wise. So how do you find her silhouette so appealing now? Are you that horny?



OK, let’s try to forget the body for a moment, please. Why did she come into your room at this time of the night and caused this commotion? Is that a sign she wants me/you? Should we head now and open her room door then stand there in our boxers with a Draw-Me-Like-One-of-Your-French-Girls pose and see what happens?



Is that your dirty mind or your wild imagination?  



You mean ‘ours’.



Oh I’m sorry, brainiac. 






Man, it was a full 15 minutes of deep thinking in the middle of the night before I took all these unanswered questions to bed. I seriously had zero idea about what could have happened. 



The next morning as I’m making coffee, I met my male mate in the kitchen and he had a female guest — a good-looking 20-something girl. I said hello to both, then almost unconsciously spitted it out.



“Did anyone come into my room last night?”



“Yes, it was me. I’m really sorry, I couldn’t find the light and I wanted to go to the bathroom but got lost,” she smilingly said. 



“It’s all good. The thing is, I was really confused because I thought it’s her — lowering my voice and pointing to the European woman’s room. And you’re not her — pointing at her curvy physique.



You even turned the fan on and I was quite hot, especially after you came in.



Ha-ha.”





Stories like these put the fun in living on the road and sharing homes with others, hence the Chronicling The Journey series on here, covering the 10-year trip to North America.

The Night I Became a Stripper in Spain
is another story from earlier times (2000). 

The more steamy [adult] stories with actual action is the Memoirs of an Incognito Friend series. 



ALSO VIEW:


Things I Couldn’t Quite Understand After Being On The Road For Seven Months

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 

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