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Most of his acquaintances would have described Joseph as at least taciturn. Listening and everything that had to do with it found it much more exciting.
So Joseph prefers to drive with the ICE where you could have your own place. But the bus Was just cheaper. Even at forty -four, you were allowed to try something new.
The woman next to him, estimated in the end of thirties, was barely caught.
The driver had already closed the door, but after her enchanting smile, only a blind polar bear would have driven off without her.
The woman sat on the last free place next to Joseph, gave him a smile and deepened into her book, apparently a cheap romance, probably bought out of boredom in the kiosk at the bus station. She was there a quarter of an hour ago the first time noted. She hadn’t actually worked like someone who would get on a bus right away. With the newspaper at the cash register, he had felt her look at himself, without thinking about it.
Sure, the first paint was also off, but there was enough left of his youth swimmer career. While he had gone over to the bus, he had hooded it, hasting it to the ticket counter and sprinting from there to the bus. When she pulled out her jacket, he noticed that the shapes under her tight sweater would not only please the eyes of an average man. But Joseph interested breasts are not particularly.
They were more or more or less the same – plump or flat, hanging or firm, big warts, small warts, not very exciting. Joseph found it much more exciting … well, unfortunately she had long black hair, … you couldn’t have everything. But why not take a closer look at the visible rest? The woman noticed it, smiled quietly without lifting your eyes.
Before they left Berlin, it began to drizzle.
Small drops covered the disc. At the top of the edge, one was again, a little thicker.
He slipped down, a smaller slowly afterwards. But whenever he had almost reached the fat one, he continued his track. The wind drove number two from the direction. Number one stayed in her place and rested there until the tender number two gently passed over.
Joseph shook his head slightly.
The woman looked up and hung up at him, then the disc, behind which the foggy Brandenburg landscape rolled along. In turn, number one made the way to number two. The woman really just wanted to look at the drops? She had bent a little about Joseph. If only this damn long hair was not, otherwise he would have … Joseph pull her fragrance.
Light and unusual bit for a woman. He tried to concentrate on the spectacle on the window.
One voice, right behind them in the corridor, pulled him out of his thoughts: “Would you like to drink something?”
Joseph hadn’t expected that a kind of steward would go through the ranks on bus long trips. “Orange juice,” said the woman at the same moment as he said “apple juice”. The woman leaned back.
The man grinned with his trollebe, handed a paper cup to everyone and collected.
Joseph and the woman prolonged without obligation. Joseph found the right time to start a conversation before he could think of that Small Talk was one of other people’s strengths. With him it always ended in embarrassing silence, so he was able to skip the section of the conversation and turn back to the disc. The wife continued to smiled nicely and reached for her book.
The thickness number one on the disc had removed quite far from number two.
It didn’t look like they still had a chance. Too bad, thought Joseph, and began to slowly pull a line with his finger to connect the two at least on this side of the window. The stranger stretched out his hand after he was to stop him, but pulled it back halfway. She shook her head.
“Do not cheat.“He turned to her. If he deleted through her hair at least once and do not think about it, had no purpose anyway.
Drops number two on the disc was clearly determined to continue his way. He wandered over and crossed the little trace that left number one, as to give him one last chance.
The stranger had withdrawn to her side. She drank her juice and grabbed the book.
The woman raised her hand on her temple as if she wanted to … Joseph held her breath. Now. The bus made a sharp braking. The driver was heard loudly, while a silver -colored BMW shot away a few hundred meters in front of them.
Only from the corner of the eye Joseph just took the movement of the foreign woman.
Again her somewhat bony hand wandered up, stroked the black hair back and put her right ear.
Perfect.
Joseph would have preferred to merged with the armchair to hold back. Could really create nature that, despite all efforts, he could never imagine in his most lively dreams? The upper rounding of her auricle pulled an overwhelming harmonious sheet, which resulted in a perfect swing to the earlobe. The ear cartilage was only a little out of it and fit stylally into the total work of art. And the best of everything: no earrings, not even holes for it! But then the beautiful dream ended too.
The stranger shook her head briefly and her hair hid everything essential again.
Joseph turned to the disc. When was the last time he had … definitely too long ago. And just like here anyway. Instead, he watched stupid drops in her unfortunate romance on the pane of a coach.
With a crazy journey, number two managed to almost reach number one. Only a millimeter separated the two from each other.
What interested him on the disc on the disc actually? Joseph’s imagination ran in full swing. He had to touch this ear, and if it cost hours of small talk about the weather.
On the other side of the bus, an elderly couple discussed offended about the rain. Joseph looked over.
His gaze remained without noticing it, hanging on the profile of the woman, whose hair was still a stable, apparently insurmountable wall. If coincidence could only give him a little look once.
Then the right words would already come up with him. For wages, his fingers on the inside of this incredibly stable and at the same time delicate auricle would hike, from there find their way down to the earlobe, and then slowly drive up again at the back. This indescribable earlobe would carefully color red, so that his lips could no longer different than kissing it.
And kiss. And for safety’s sake a few more times before his Tongue ..
Now he noticed the rigid look of the strange woman, whose hair had hung all the time. Joseph cleared his throat and forgot the matter with the tongue. He took a sip of apple juice, put the empty cup off, reached again to let the last drop roll into his mouth.
Throughout the time the woman looked at him fascinated.
Surprisingly, she didn’t even look amazed. In her eyes, the shine of his own longing was reflected.
The bus drove past a small field. A stork sailed over it.
“It rains outside,” said the woman finally.
“Very much,” replied Joseph.
They were silent for a while. The bus grumbled through two or three curves.
Joseph’s head remained a dark empty cave that nobody had researched yet. The bus thundered over a bridge.
The stranger asked: “Ears?”
He nodded. The bus reached a long curve.
The woman said: “Hands.”
Behind the curve she just grabbed his right hand and held her with a connoisseur. A embarrassed smile hovered over her face.
Her right index finger slowly moved along his thumb from the tip to the palm, one after the other medium and ring finger one after the other. Joseph closed his eyes. With her thumb she stroked his little finger, drove over the outside and the hand root to Joseph’s thumb, where the two tips touched. Then she quietly put her fingertips on his and massaged her with small circular movements that Joseph was almost dizzy from touch.
When had a woman ever done with him? Probably never, but his memory was quite limited at the moment. Now the index finger tip of the strange woman was slowly moving to Joseph’s palm, from there, hesitated on the cufflink and drove together with the others Finger Up and down the palm of your palm. And up and down again, and again, and again until her finger finally found the way to the small skin fold between Joseph’s middle and index finger and rested where Joseph held him.
With his free hand, he put the foreign woman’s hair on the other side. His fingers hardly dared to touch this gift in front of his eyes.
The earlobe was warm, incredible. He circled it with the little finger. From below he accompanied the slight swing up, then down on the ear cartilage, and finally gave the almost mathematically perfect turns on the inside until it was at the deepest inner point and slowly stroked with the little finger there and down. He kissed the transition between the earlobe and the upper arch and now walked up with lips and tongue tips on the outer edge, kept briefly there and moved past the small ear cartilage, down again.
He heard the stranger woman sighs, who in the meantime dealt intensively with his hand, which she probably found as just as perfect as he was her incredible ear.
While his mouth carefully followed the inner lines of her auricle, she took his hand and began to kiss one finger after the other and finally suck on the little finger. Joseph’s pulse rose, it was increasingly difficult for him to breathe calmly. A quick look to the left told him that the older couple looked discreetly out of the window. While he stroked the innermost area of the stranger’s ear, he just noticed that the two drops on his window pane flowed in a small lake.
The first suburbs appeared outside.
When Joseph and the strange woman got out of the bus a little later, they didn’t need many words anymore.
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