The Attempted Contact

David looked at his buddy Stan with a surprised expression, and asked: “Do you really feel that it's something you could get into, though? I mean it's natural to feel some fascination for her, I think. Sheena is the sort of female that can have it that one has to be into her sort. But since she's a dyke, she's hardly at all likely to accept that a guy tries to score on her. ...”

 “She and I have a business relationship going  -  and when we're negotiating she's into sort of taking me as the better type of male.”

David chuckled in disbelief. “That's not likely to be anything but due to the circumstances. It's more practical for her to view you that way, when in business with you. But when it comes to really wanting to be close to someone, then you aught to expect that her jargon is not enough to be treated as if there was a flirt of some kind to her.”

Stan thought about it, slightly uneasily. “It seems to me that she can need to be with a male at points. It's much like myself, I presume. Since I got into gay life, I've been feeling that it's seemingly alright to be without a lady. But at the same time there's always something weird about the situation where one cannot relate to them as the ones who can counter a certain awkwardness about ... Eh, how should I put this? ... It's the circumstance of not feeling one is part of everything in every way, sort of.”

David thought about it. “I guess you mean that it's awkward that we're not part of what they have in them to be about?”

“Yeah, that's it.”

“Well, if you feel feel that way, perhaps there can be a possibility for you to find that in her as well. But I don't feel you're my buddy to the extent that there is a priority for her before me and the other guys!”

Stan was hesitant. “It's not I who can tell beforehand whether or not that will be so, I think”

David sneered at this. “Alright, I guess you're not too sure you want to stay gay and cool about it. Then I and the others will probably have to dismiss you as hardly into what we actually have in us to feel that gay life is about.”

“We'll see about that!” he proclaimed. Then he added: “It's weird that many of the strait women would easily be tempted to feel that we should be more at ease with seeing each other as the priority. I'm not sure about her though. ... Is it that you feel that perhaps I should get into someone that wouldn't be into that males are not usually what she wants?”

"I guess I would like that in a sense. But on the other hand, those girls can become so annoyingly into us that I hardly at all want anything to do with them.”

“So you mean there's a problem if they prefer us and even so one if they don't, right?”

“I sort of mean that.”

“Even so, I want to try to get into Sheena. But there's a difficulty to her, I can presume, in that she might somehow have it that she needs to be more into women than what is preferable for me.”

“Or there's a problem for her in accepting you, probably.”

Stan looked annoyed. “I guess there could be one. But now it's not up to you to decide what I should try or not, even so.”

That night Stan and Sheena met at a restaurant to discuss a potential deal about some business venture. The deal would perhaps open a possibility for Sheena to sell her stuff to other cities. For Stan it could be an opportunity to get into why the sponges and shampoo that were part of her campaign seemed to be an essence of it. “I can see,” he said to her, “that you deal with all sorts of goods. Still you have a total focus, or so seems, on items that are about cleaning oneself. Right?”

Seemingly a bit amused she thought about this for a second. “We have to deal with the customers as thorough about themselves. Because as long as we have customers that give a good impression, these are more likely to attract other potential vendees.”

“Yeah, I see” Stan cheered a bit thoughtfully. “So for getting all those other customers, you feel it is a cool thing to attract them for the sake of cleanliness?”

She chuckled. “Yeah, that's sort of it.”

“And so you feel, perhaps, that if I'm clean and wholesome, then there can be better business partners later on for you than if I'm not?”

She thought about it. “I feel that it's sort of the same thing, yes.”

"Oh, I hope I'm good enough in that sense then!”

She smiled a little. “I suppose you wonder if I feel that you are?”

 "Yeah, I do.”

"I guess you can be good enough, but I feel that you're not into the types of business I am about. Thereby I don't feel it's about too much more than the few business deals that so happened to be beneficial both for me and for you.”

“Oh, okay. So much for that guidance about my potential equity in business.”

Sheena looked at him. “If that's what you wanna be about, then perhaps you should go to some course in business behavior?”

“Oh, sorry. I felt I had just gotten into being real about just simply being into business in a way that doesn't spoil my clients' or partners' initiatives or so. ...”

She smiled a bit smugly. “Do you mean that it's my business to be a guidance for that?”

“No! I'm sorry.”

"Then how should I interpret you?”

He looked sad. “I didn't mean to piggy-back about it. It's just that if I can get it working this time, then I can perhaps get it working better later on.”

“It's not my business to take care of how you can be doing later on, is it?”

“No. I don't mean that. I mean that as long as it matters for this deal with you, it could serve as a guidance for myself in later deals – with you or others.”

She sulked at him, surveying his expressions about it.”Do you mean that my business is too much of yours for us to say that it's not a big deal with such guidance?”

“I guess we have a deal about that warehouse on the other side of the city to also be dealing with. Apart from that one, and the one we're working on presently, you also showed some interest in the contacts I have. Even so I found myself a bit unacclimatized to the type of client you are. ...”

She sighed. “We don't necessarily have to deal more with each other, although I think I probably would prefer to close this deal about transport.”

Now he sighed. “Oh, okay,” he said. “Then I guess our deal is: If you want a partner about transport, then you will have to be about it being either for you to be a business partner, and not pull out, or you will have to find someone else to piggyback on for it.”

She stared at him for a few seconds, then peered at the floor and sighed again. Upon this she looked in another direction. She looked at him again and then thoughtfully let her eyes wonder around the room they were sitting in. A bit meditatively she fixed her eyes on some tapestry on the wall and said: “We can do business together, just that I don't want us to be seemingly so much of partners that it can be misinterpreted as though we were into one another also for other purposes.”

“I guess I still feel we can,” he answered. “But for now I feel that I need to discuss this with some of my acquaintances.” Upon this they both left, and took two different cabs away from there.

The next day Stan talked to David again: “No, I don't feel we can ever be anything but business partners, after all. It's not she who would want anything else. Now, though, I'm not too sure that there's a trust to be had with her. Because she was about to end the deal when I said that I wanted to learn how to be a better affiliate for her. It seems she sensed that there could at least seemingly be some type of closeness that she wouldn't want to stick to her.”

“I presume that you have learnt that they are not to be dealt with as worthwhile to do anything but business with, then, right?”

Stan sighed. “Yeah, I suppose I have. But I sort of still have a problem in the sense that  it sometimes seems that they have something of points to them that we sort of don't figure on.”

“I suppose that they're into just pretending that is so! From here on I think we should be clear about how silly it would seem to actually believe that they can be trusted for what they are not.”

“Alright,” Stan said. “Okay, I'll have to deal with them that way.”

From there on he decisively had it women were not to be partners in any way that had them seem more worth it than what he could trust himself to believe they could live up to. This meant that he didn't trust them. Secondly he felt that they were not to be seen as much else than departure from what is needed for ordinary life.

If there is Excitement

 If there is Excitement is an adult story.

What if we All Thought About it?

"Why don't you yourself dress yourself as daringly as you appreciate that we ladies do?" Deborah asked a bit smugly. Mea while he clanced at her bikini, which was edging on being see-through.

"Ah, well! To some extent I fear being awkward,"  Gabriel told her.

"Why?"

"Most of all because there isn't much that says I can get away with it!"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that few people would accept it from me!"

She sneered a little. But she also showed him a warmth that sort of said to him that she, for one, would. He wasn't sure about this, but perhaps she even would be able to piggy-back upon her appreciation of sexiness.

After thinking about it for a while, she looked at him and said: "To the extent that I should dress sexy, so should those that I can appreciate, I think! Now if you want to be appreciated, why don't you go ahead and try it?"

He seemed to smile over it, she thaought, and cobtinue: "How about you and I go to the park, and there you take off your shirt to begin with."

"Yeah, sure, I can do that! But what do you mean should be the continuation?"

"I'll see to it that there is a continuation!"

 "You sure?"

"Kinda!"

"OK! I'll trust you for it! "

"Let's go!"

Twenty minutes later they arrived at the park. It was fairly full of people.

"How about you take it off right away?" she asked.

"Alright,"he answered and did so.

"Alright!" she said."How about you and I go buy us each a hot dog now?"

"OK!"

They walked a few hundred yards to a hot dog stand. When there, some old lady examined his torso. Then she smiled smugly.

He looked at her, then at Deborah. But Deborah was looking in the other direction, so he put his hand on her shoulder. She turned and looked at him. "What?" she inquired.

"Debbie, I doubt that anyone but some really old ladies feel that way about male extravagance!"

She looked indignant. "And what do you call me, then?" she asked. "I felt it from the beginning and you should be able to care about it!"

A guy who was standing before them in line for hot dogs turned and looked at them, examined them a little. Then he smiled and looked a bit more closely at the girl who seemed to appreciate male state of undress.

She looked back. He was in his thirties, reddish blond and kind of handsome.She kind of smiled, but restrained herself passably from soing it fully.

The guy almost smiled back.Then he looked at Gabriel, and back to her again.

After smiling once more, he turned around and whispered something to a black guy who seemed to be standing in line with him. He turned his head. Bowing his head a little, he smiled and frowned faintly at her. Then he looked at Gabriel's bare upper body, examining it and smiling a bit differently.

Gabriel looked around. he saw the old lad, who had an air of both joy and, somehow, indifference. Turning to look in the other direction, he spotted a fairly young woman, camping on the grass,whom he could imagine had perhaps appreciated his torso. But he could hardly be content with this small perhaps of appreciation.

Looking back at Deborah, he found that she looked at the two guys. She was carrying his shirt, so he took a step towards her and took it, which seemed to startle her a little. She watched him redress and asked: "Do you really feel that you shouldn't stand for anything of courage about it! Why do you feel that you always should be dressed?"

"As I said, I don't feel I'm appreciated enough for it!"

"I doubt that you could feel that there is a compliment for everyone who is exciting to look at! There's a hidden appreciation here and there, which you should learn to recognize!"

Gabriel saw the black man look at them and shake his head. He also saw the old lady, kind of smiling, as it seemed. But Deborah looked serious and thoughtful.

"What do you mean," Gabriel asked her, "that there could be of an appreciation that is not there for men who don't expose themselves?"

"I mean that really most chicks do feel that there really can be something quite attractive with a nude male body!"

Something made Gabriel turn his head towards the young woman whom he had looked at a while ago. She sat there staring thoughtfully in a direction where he couldn't tell if there was something to be watching. Perhaps, he told himself, she somehow senses this, and wonders how to be free from restraints that bind her from caring to show appreciation, when and if she felt some.

Looking back at his friend Deborah, he sighed. "Alright, I'll try a little more," he said. She smiled at him. "Good! Begin with taking the shirt off again."

He sighed again, and stripped it of.  She smiled, went forwards to him, and hugged him tenderly. He felt her nipples against his skin, and smiled. Then he grabbed her wrists (with fairly good gentleness about it), looked her in the eyes and asked: "Why do we seem to be so different about showing off? What do you think?"

She looked nonplussed at first, then answered: "We don't seem different to me, in that sense! For me it's about that we don't have the same calling about it! For some reason guys don't feel it's about their own exposure  -  but that it's just about ours!"

"But, ... You know what? It's not I who feel that it's about anyone's exposure, really! Somehow, it seems, though, that as you and some others tend to appreciate showing off, it becomes difficult to resist you!"

"Oh! We don't really feel we have to expose ourselves, except for that men really want us to! It's not easy to resist every male insinuation about as as those who aught to be as cute and sexy as ... as we feel we have to be for the sake of those who do appreciate it. ..."

"Are you sure they all appreciate it without you insinuating that they should?"

"I feel sure they don't appreciate nothing of worth for it. We don't feel we all have to be cool about it. Rather it's they who don't appreciate us if we don't encourage their appraisal of prurience! ... But that isn't because we are all prurience, but it's because they don't appreciate the rest of us without feeling it!"

The two guys who had looked at them earlier had just bought their hot dogs, turned and looked at them again, while beginning to walk. The old lady also looked at them. Turning his head, Gabriel looked at the young woman he had noticed before. She, though, somehow looked a bit more detached than before.

Deborah put her hand against Gabriel's cheek. Turning his head softly towards her, she showed that she saw whom he was looking at. She stared at her for a short while, then looked at him, insinuating that she wondered if he felt her appreciation was very important.

He felt nonplussed. But thinking about it, he too wondered if he felt that. "Look, I don't know if there's anything especially interesting about her! I really couldn't find anyone else, except you, who could, even perhaps, prove your point to me  -  the point that there could be an appreciation out there, which I could learn to discern as ... an uplift or so."

"Do you feel like talking to her?"

He looked surprised. "Yeah, I guess."

She took his hand and pulled him towards her. When they got to her Deborah smiled and said: "Hi there!"

The girl looked up. "Who are you?" she interrogated.

"Eh, we just felt that you seem to appreciate good things in life! Do you feel that we are right?"

She looked surprised. "Sort of, I guess. ..."

"Then do you appreciate his looks, without a shirt on?"

"What?"

Gabriel looked embarrassed. "Debbie, no, I can't!"

"Oh, come on Gabe!"

The girl giggled. "The two of you should manage on your own, I think."

"Oh " they both said, and started leaving.

The girl looked thoughtful. "Even so," she added, "I feel that it was kind of splendid to happen to get your acquaintance. ..."

The Trick

Ivan was in a good mood. His promotion had both led to a good salary and to that he could have more time over on his breaks. So, today, upon lunch, he went decided to go outside, for a stroll in the park next to where worked. He even took some time to put on shorts and T-shirt for it.

The weather was warm, and the park was (as usually) fairly beautiful. He looked around and spotted a few people with very little on. He even recognized two of them. One of these was a young and attractive female now and then showed up at his work place. She was with two guys who were equally lightly dressed. But the other one he recognized was a woman whom he occasionally ran into on his way from work. She was also fairly attractive and had seemed, he thought, to think likewise of him. The two of them had even talked a little and she had presented herself as Mona. She was dressed in a fairly see-through bikini. Beside her she had a a purse and a picnic bag that she hadn't unpacked yet.

He walked towards her. When he was almost there she noticed and checked him. He stopped and smiled at her. She smiled back. Then he, fairly quickly, let his eyes wonder over her bikini top, seeing her nipples through the fabric. Then he let them drop for a fraction of a second towards her vagina. It seemed to him that she was excited. ... He looked at her face again. She was still smiling a little.

He looked at his watch. He still had time to spend at least almost half an hour with her, and very likely it wouldn't matter too much if it took as much as fifty minutes. As he looked back on her he began to feel his own excitation – and found it being caught in his pants. This was fairly uncomfortable for him, which made him look at her for a sign of being allowed to reach down and adjust it.

He looked pleadingly at her for a few seconds. She seemed happy, he thought. Thereby he quickly put his hand in his shorts and turned his penis so that it wouldn't hurt. Thereby he felt a relief, which he supposed she could notice.

She seemed a bit self-assured after seeing this. “Have there been a coincidence about our encounter, or have you been into seeing me here for a while?” she asked, looking down at his pants with a fairly tempting smile.

“I haven't been planning or so,” he answered. “But as I saw you here it really turned me on.” Then he started thinking about HIV and other sexually transmitted diseases. “I think, though, that I can't be sure there's no STD to it, if we were to have sex now.”

She looked at him a bit seriously. “I agree. ... Actually, perhaps you can get in contact with a friend of mine.”

“Oh! Thanks!” he answered. “That was very kind of you!”

She looked hesitant. “Oh. ... Perhaps you could give me a little something for connecting you!”

He thought about his raise. “Yeah, I suppose I am able to pay for such a service. How much do you want?”

She looked at him. “I guess that depends on what kind of girl and what kind of date you want with her.”

“I think I want a girl who doesn't seem to be innocent but still can be into being it.”

Thoughtfully she reached into her purse and took out an address book from it. She opened it and skimmed through the pages. After a while she stopped and said: “I have a few girl friends who could be that way. ... I'm pretty sure I can set up for a date for you with one of them for a few bucks.”

“Then I would like to have one date with one and then another with another one. After that I would like to be able to chose between them.”

She giggled. “Alright, then; for ten bucks I'll set you up for two dates with that kind of girls! ... or at least I think I can, that is.”

Two weeks later, Ivan was on the first of these dates, in a café. The girl had turned out to be a fairly cute woman Latin-looking in her late thirties. She wore a low-cut dress, which turned him on.

He looked at it and she smiled. “Are you the girl I'm supposed to date here? Are you Gabriella?” he asked.

“Yes.” she said, with a kind of mysterious smile, which was fairly seductive, he thought.

He pondered upon it for a few seconds, then he asked her if she wanted coffee or if she preferred tea, or perhaps wine.

“Coffee,” she answered.

“OK. And do you want something edible with it, like cookies of so?”

“Well thanks,” she answered with a slight air of pleasure. “I think I prefer to have a sandwich.”

“Do you feel you're up to a big one, or is it just a snack you'd at this time?”

“Medium-size, I think.”

“Good, then I'll call someone over to our table,” he said and waved.

After a short while a waitress came over and he ordered two cups of coffee, a fairly, but not very, large sandwich, and also some biscuits for himself. The waitress fumbled a little, then tried to set things straight, it seemed, by a little curtsying towards them. A bit surprised by this, Ivan looked at her, then glanced at Gabriella, who was eying her. He sort of got the notion that she liked her for the way she behaved servilely before them. So he asked:

“Do you feel the waitress has it in her to serve us for being real about prestige or so?”

“Only sort of.” She looked hesitant, then continued in an explanatory manner: “I feel, that she is cool about her notion of us as the ones she's supposed to serve, even though her clumsiness is to her predicament!”

After a while a waiter came and served them. He did not fumble, but did to some extent seem to study the two of them, probably, they figured, in order to find out something about if the waitress had caused concern. They both felt a bit annoyed by this, but then she smiled it of, and he did too.

After they finished, the waitress returned to their table with the bill. Ivan paid and she curtsied briefly towards him. Then she left and Ivan turned towards, who, he found looked after her in a way that seemed dreamy, Ivan thought, and he fantasized for a second about seeing the two of them in bed with each other, and perhaps also him.

Upon this the two of them went to the park for a while. When there decided to have see each other some more. First of all they would date again exactly one week later, in another cafe, which was closer to the beach.

The night three days before that second date, Ivan met with Laura, the other girl with whom Mona in the park had set him up for a date. Laura was blond and seemed younger than the first Gabriella. The two of them met in a bar, where he ordered some food (she asked for and got some sea food, while he ate a stake) and a bottle of wine for them to share.

As they ate and drank, he began fancying Laura's arms and thereby asked if she felt that perhaps he was supposed to have a fancy for her. She said no to this. But he insisted. “It's rare that just bare arms get me feeling this way!” he proclaimed for her.

She smiled, then looked at her wristwatch and said: “It's kinda late, and I need to get to go to work early tomorrow morning.”

He looked at his own clock. “Oh! So you're need to be up before sunrise?”

“Sort of: If I don't I need to hurry more than I like doing.” she said and rose to her feet. She was wearing a dress that only half covered her knees. This Ivan had noted before they ate and drank, but this time he felt it insinuated that he should look after her need attention. So he rose as well, and followed her to the door.

As they were leaving, a waiter made a sign to the doorman and the cloak-room attendant. The doorman stood himself between them and the door. They halted and looked at him. Then the cloakroom attendant asked them for their receipt. “If you don't have it, I might just keep your coats until you pay!” he added. Laura and Ivan both apologized, and said that they had forgotten.

“Then go to the counter and pay,” the doorman ordered.

Ivan went there and did so.

When he got back he looked at his date who was trying to convince the doorman to let her leave even before he was back, and said tartly: “Is it just you that everything is about, it would only buy you about half a minute! And meanwhile I have to do the all the payments and so!”

She looked at him. “I was going to grab a bus that leaves in two minutes a few blocks away! I'm sorry I didn't tell you about that before.”

He sighed. “I just might call a cab for you, and perhaps pay for it as well” he said a bit indignantly, while also laying the receipt he had just gotten. The attendant looked at it, then glanced at at Ivan and Laura. Upon this he looked towards the pay desk, before finally asking the two customers for the number tags for their outerwear.

While they handed them to him to him and got their coats, they looked at each other a bit grouchily. Then, while walking through the door, Laura apologized. Ivan drew a deep breath. After a few more steps he asked: “Is that because you want the cab paid for as well?”

Still walking, she turned and looked at him. “Sort of. But I still also want to apologize because there's a point to your anger about that I was trying to leave even while you were paying.”

“OK. So that's what you say you feel. Then perhaps you will want to say to yourself that I can deserve good affection from you?”

She stopped. “Perhaps,” she answered.

“How about letting me in on what there is that seems worthwhile for you about cuddling and such?”

She smiled. “Oh. I'll have to think about it!”

“How about you and I share a cab where you keep thinking about it, until we get to your place?” he inquired.

“Yeah, OK,” she replied.

Ivan called a cab. For a few minutes they waited and looked around in the night. They street they were on now was fairly silent, more so than the one of the restaurant they just left. It was well lit, but a bit emptier than what one would very much want, thinking about one's safety against robbers. However, there still were people around, only few enough to have them both reflecting over it.

When their cab arrived Laura told the driver her address and they both got in, Ivan first, through a back door. Two seconds later, Laura got in into the seat beside the driver. They sat silently for the twenty-three minutes it took to reach the apartment building where she lived, upon which she got out, and so did Ivan, who also told the driver to wait.

While the taxi was waiting, Ivan followed his date to the street-door of the house where she lived. When there he asked her if he could come inside.

“OK, but only for a little while,” Laura answered.

“How long do you feel it can be. Because I seem to have to keep the cab driver waiting.”

“Oh! Can't you pay him to stay there for a while, and then to drive away if you don't come out until then, that is if I don't invite you to stay the night.”

“Oh, yeah, sure!” he said and went down to the cab and paid.

Two hours later, the cab had left and Laura was brushing her teeth. She had had two more drinks, brandy shots this time, and so had he. She had also told something about what she felt was worth-while for sex. After this she had asked him to sleep on her sofa, which he grunted about, saying that it seemed uncomfortable. She apologized but insisted, until finally he had seemed to give in and laid himself down to sleep there.

When Laura had finished brushing, she went to fetch a nightgown, which was good enough for her to feel wholesome about having company. But it lay in a drawer in the same room where Ivan was. So, trying to be as silent as she could she opened it, and fetched her gown. As she did so, Ivan woke, even so, though, and looked at her. He watched her fetch it and then go into a small room beside the one where he was. There she undressed. While she was at it, she noticed the door opening behind her, and there he stood, Ivan, looking at her. “I apologize,” he said, but he didn't leave.

She got startled and covered her breasts with her arms, clutching her gown. She let it hang down to probably cover her groin. In order for it to cover it better, she turned towards him.

“You have a beautiful body!” he said.

She did not move, just stood there, with her gown in hands. Looking at her, he entered her room. He recalled that she had earlier that night seemed to imply that she would want sex with a man who committed himself for her sensual appeal. So he decided to do that.

Working on doing this, he managed to get her in bed. He also managed to get Gabriella in bed with the same trick. Upon this, he tried this with two more girls. One of them fell for it, but the other one started complaining about him. This eventually led to that Gabriella got to now that he had hit on her too, which got her upset.

“Weren't you into me in order to avoid careless relationships? How can I know you won't catch an STD and not let me know about it? Are there others that you've been into?”

“Yes there have,” he said. “I'm sorry about it.”

A few weeks later, Gabriella and the girl whom Ivan failed at catching had made friends. They were both now complaining about his attitudes about sex and relationships. In order to counter this, Ivan tried his trick again, attempting to seduce both at once. He sort of succeeded, but the two of them were cross with him, and eventually they managed to put a detective to work about his doings of that kind. This detective eventually found out about Laura and the forth girl. Upon this he was sued for rape, because when he fancied those girls enough for them to be charmed, he could not restrain himself from also going too wild about them. ...

Potential Extravagance

"Why don't you yourself dress yourself as daringly as you appreciate that we ladies do?" Deborah asked a bit smugly. Her bikini was sortof, or you might say almost, see-through.

"Ah, well! To some extent I fear being awkward,"  Gabriel told her.

"Why?"

"Most of all because there isn't much that says I can get away with it!"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that few people would accept it from me!"

She sneered a little. But she also showed him a warmth that sort of said to him that she, for one, would. He wasn't sure about this, but perhaps she even would be able to piggy-back upon her appreciation for being sexy.

After thinking about it for a while, she looked at him and said: "To the extent that I should dress sexy, so should those that I can appreciate, I think! Now if you want to be appreciated, why don't you go ahead and try it?"

He seemed to smile at the this thought, perhaps smugly, but (even so) gently enough for her to feel inspired to try to have him make a go for it. "How about you and I go to the park, and there you take off your shirt to begin with."

"Yeah, sure, I can do that! But what do you mean should be the continuation?"

"I'll see to it that there is a continuation!"

 "You sure?"

"Kinda!"

"OK! I'll trust you for it! "

"OK, let's go!"

Twenty minutes later they arrived at the park. It was fairly full of people.

"How about you take it off right away?" she asked.

"Alright,"he answered and did so.

"Alright!" she said."How about you and I go buy us each a hot dog now?"

"OK!"

They walked a few hundred yards to a hot dog stand. When there, some old lady examined his torso. Then she smiled smugly.

He looked at her, then at Deborah. But Deborah was looking in the other direction, so he put his hand on her shoulder.She turned and looked at him. "What?" she inquired.

"Debbie, I doubt that anyone but some really old ladies feel that way about male extravagance!"

She looked indignant. "And what do you call me, then?" she asked. "I felt it from the beginning and you should be able to care about it!"

A guy who was standing before them in line for hot dogs turned and looked at them, examined them a little. Then he smiled and looked a bit more closely at the girl who seemed to appreciate male state of undress.

She looked back. He was in his thirties, reddish blond and kind of handsome.She kind of smiled, but restrained herself passably form it.

The guy almost smiled back.Then he looked at Gabriel, and back to her again.

After smiling once more, he turned around and whispered something to black guy who seemed to be standing in line with him. He turned his head. Bowing his head a little, he smiled and frowned faintly at her. Then he looked at Gabriel's bare upper body, examining it and smiling a bit differently.

Gabriel looked around. he saw the old lad, who had an air of both joy and, somehow, indifference. Turning to look in the other direction, he spotted a fairly young woman, camping on the grass,whom he could imagine had perhaps appreciated his torso. But he could hardly be content with this small perhaps of appreciation.

Looking back at Deborah, he found that she looked at the two guys. She was carrying his shirt, so he took a step towards her and took it, which seemed to startle her a little. She watched him redress and asked: "Do you really feel that you can stand for anything of courage about it! Why do you feel that you always should be dressed?"

"As I said, I don't feel I'm appreciated enough for it!"

"I doubt that you could feel that there is a compliment for everyone who is exciting to look at! There's a hidden appreciation here and there, which you should learn to recognize!"

Gabriel saw the black man look at them and shake his head. He also saw the old lady, kind of smiling, as it seemed. But Deborah looked serious and thoughtful.

"What do you mean," Gabriel asked her, "that there could be of an appreciation that is not there for men who don't expose themselves?"

"I mean that really most chicks do feel that there really can be something quite attractive with a nude male body!"

Something made Gabriel turn his head towards the young woman whom he had looked at a while ago. She sat there staring thoughtfully in a direction where he couldn't tell if there was something to be watching. Perhaps, he told himself, she somehow senses this, and wonders how to be free from restraints that bind her from caring to show appreciation, when and if she felt some.

Looking back at his friend Deborah, he sighed. "Alright, I'll try a little more," he said. She smiled at him. "Good! Begin with taking the shirt off again."

He sighed again, and stripped it of.  She smiled, went forwards to him, and hugged him tenderly. he felt her nipples against his skin, and smiled. Then he grabbed her wrists (with fairly good gentleness about it), looked her in the eyes and asked: "Why do we seem to be so different about showing off? What do you think?"

She looked nonplussed at first, then answered: "We don't seem different to me, in that sense! For me it's about that we don't have the same calling about it! For some reason guys don't feel it's about their own exposure  -  but that it's just about ours!"

"But, ... You know what? It's not I who feel that it's about anyone's exposure, really! Somehow, it seems, though, that as you and some others tend to appreciate showing off, it becomes difficult to resist you!"

"Oh! We don't really feel we have to expose ourselves, except for that men really want us to! It's not easy to resist every male insinuation about as as those who aught to be as cute and sexy as ... as we feel we have to be for the sake of those who do appreciate it. ..."

"Are you sure they all appreciate it without you insinuating that they should?"

"I feel sure they don't appreciate nothing of worth for it. We don't feel we all have to be cool about it. Rather it's they who don't appreciate us if we don't encourage their appraisal of prurience! ... But that isn't because we are all prurience, but it's because they don't appreciate the rest of us without feeling it!"

The two guys who had looked at them earlier had just bought their hot dogs, turned and looked at them, while beginning to walk. The old lady looked at them. Turning his head, Gabriel looked at the young woman he had noticed before. She somehow looked a bit detached than before.

Deborah put her hand against Gabriel's cheek. Turning his head softly towards her, she showed that she saw whom he was looking at. She stared at her for a short while, then looked at him, insinuating that she wondered if he felt her appreciation was very important.

He felt nonplussed. But thinking about it, he too wondered if he felt that. "Look, I don't know if there's anything especially interesting about her! I really couldn't find anyone else, except you, who could, even perhaps, prove your point to me  -  the point that there could be an appreciation out there, which I could learn to discern as ... an uplift or so."

"Do you feel like talking to her?"

He looked surprised. "Yeah, I guess."

She took his hand and pulled him towards her. When they got to her Deborah smiled and said: "Hi there!"

The girl looked up. "Who are you?" she interrogated.

"Eh, we just felt that you seem to appreciate good things in life! Do you feel that we are right?"

She looked surprised. "Sort of, I guess. ..."

"Then do you appreciate his looks, without a shirt on?"

"What?"

Gabriel looked embarrassed. "Debbie, no, I can't!"

"Oh, come on Gabe!"

The girl giggled. "The two of you should manage on your own, I think."

"Oh " they both said, and started leaving.

The girl looked thoughtful. "Even so," she added, "I feel that it was kind of splendid to happen to get your acquaintance. ..."

The Untruthful Insinuations

I was sitting in a train and observed the girl on the opposite-side seat. I was traveling backwards, she forwards. Behind her sat a few other people, two of whom I recognized. One of those two, a woman in her forties looked at me, then bent over and and whispered something to a fellow who faced the other way. After a while this person turned his head and gave of something of a cold smile. Meanwhile, the lady who had whispered to him said something to what probably was two other friends of them both. One of these, a guy in his mid thirties looked at me with mock envy. A woman, whom she had seemingly also addressed, turned around. She looked both haughty and insinuative of herself as virtuous in never having to be haughty. this frightened me.

The girl whom I at first had looked at seemed to notice that I was troubled. She wrinkled her eyebrows a little in concern. Then she tried to smile.

Looking at her I drew my breath. "I'm worried," I told her, in a voice that I hoped would not be heard by the people behind her back, "because those who sit behind you seem to fake that I try to pretend I'm their kind of a fellow, or something!"

She seemed concerned in more than one way about me saying this. In a sense, it seemed, we who had not met before, could preferably have nothing to say to each other. But in another sense she seemed concerned about me and what I was telling her.

"It seems to me that they try to pretend that I am into them as people I ask favors of," I told her.  now I began feeling that there would perhaps be a point made against them if they did overhear me talking about them.

"Oh," the girl said. "Why do you tell me about it?"

I sighed. "Because I felt I had to grab the opportunity to say something about while it's happening. ... Also it's because there's a possibility, I hope, that you could care about it!"

There was a mumble from behind her. It seemed to startle her a little. Then she looked at me with a curious eye.

"Why do you look at me like that?" I asked.

"Because it seems that you could be someone they would take for granted as more real about pressuring them than there can be in you!"

"Right" I said. "I'm relieved that at least you can realize it"

She smiled. "Yeah! ... They said that you are about trying to manipulate them into thinking that you didn't have them fake about you that they would be swell and cool and so!"

"I don't feel that I want them to be about it, but I bet they would want me to feel gracious about them for it just the same!"

"Yeah, that could be so!" she answered.

"There's an absolute nonsense," I said, "to the weird gratitude I am supposed to have  -  and that I don't have. I only find it in me to sometimes be able to relate to it!"

She looked at me and answered. "How come then, those who insinuate that stuff don't find themselves aware of the fact that they thereby seem to believe, with no good reason for it, in lies that are similar to claims about themselves as stupid enough to never assume there's a check to be made or a certainty to be had?"

"It's because they don't feel that kind of self-disgust that I and probably you too would feel for having such an attitude!"

She looked thoughtful in a way that put me a bit of ease. "How come," she asked after a while, "do they affect you so easily?"

"There's a difficulty about them," I began; then I had to think for a while, before continuing: "I think it is that they do not feel guilt about not having gratitude at all, but still are able to insinuate that they, as opposed to for example me, would be able to know about guilt or not. At least I think it's that kind of a thing, but somehow they're to weird for me to be quite certain about!"

She thought about it. This time, to my relief, it didn't seem to insinuate that I should have to worry about something. "Do you know what? They do seem to be insinuating that they are welcome among all other people but those that they pretend aught to be grateful for seeming cool or self-assured in ways that you for one don't really care for doing."

"Then I would want it said about me that I don't represent such weird types of pride and vanity. Because they always seem to be insinuating that if I say I don't, then I am hiding something, somehow. I usually can't figure out what people believe I am about then, but they do become arrogant and tend to insinuate that they might have an asshole, to be dealing with, who slyly pretends to be ... an unusually worth it type of stuck up."

"Then I can speak to my sister and tell her to try to say that about you."

"Thanks you! Then perhaps their lies will be exposed as what they are!"

She looked at me and seemed to insinuate she wanted that resurrection for me. She then smiled and took her purse, rose from her seat and took two steps towards the door. There she turned to me and asked: "Why don't we meet again and try to talk about how come they're able to do such stuff?"

Grateful for this, I said: "Well of course! Sure! Let's meet again sometime!"

She took out her mobile phone and asked for my number. I told her and then she called my phone for half a second. I looked at her number on it, thanked her again and told her my full name. She told me hers and left. Two minutes later I waved at her at the station where she had gone off. She waved back briefly.

One day later I sent her an SMS that said: "Let's communicate via email. Because I think ther can be some misinterpretations between us otherwise."

She sent me hers, then i sent her mine.

A few weeks later I called her. After two signal she answered. "Sonya speaking!"

"Hey Sonya! It's Jim! Do you remember me? Ehm, I'm the guy who talked to you on the train. ... Uhm, oh. I hope I'm not calling at an inconvenient time for you!"

"Not quite," she said, "but a little. ...  Perhaps I can call y9ou back later!"

"Tonight?"

"Yeah, OK, at seven."

When she called she told me about that her sister had tried to say something to some people I had mentioned in an email. "But it's not, "she said, "cool for them, it seems, to believe what she says about you!"

"I see," I answered thoughtfully. "Are they about cool as the type of faking that seems to free them  -  or some other people  -  from responsibility?"

She drew a deep breath. "I'm not sure about it! I'll ask my sister, then I'll call you back."

Almost half an hour later, she called again. "She said that they're only sort of cool about trying to feel that the truth is not a very important responsibility! Rather they seem to be into having it there's no truth without lying enough!"

I was startled. "Oh! That's what they think!"

... and Who Else Might Play that Game

Simon, Beatrice and a few others were part of a small gang who was playing a game of look-alike trickery. Doing that, they were all more or less proud about being able to con and pretend to be at least one other person each. "It's we who can deal with telepathy smarter than they can." Simon once told Elvira, whom he was trying to get laid with.

Now Elvira didn't exactly keep her mouth shut about it. Fairly soon many people in their community had heard about their aspirations. But the gang were lucky enough to have someone who looked much like Elvira, and who could talk about it in a way that seemed silly in a sense so that people tended much to ignored it. To the extent they didn't, they got curious about it so that there was a good chance for her and her friends to use knowledge of it as a bate. Using that bate they tempted people to try it themselves.

Most of those who tried the trickery felt that it was difficult to figure it out thoroughly without keeping it more or less secret. Then, also, while experimenting with their telepathy and cons, they eventually began to do things to people that they did not want those people to find out. So hardly anyone quite wanted quite everybody to know. Those few who did were distrusted and ridiculed, partly both by those by those who wanted it to be kept secret and by very many of those not introduced to it all  -  most of whom simply did not believe them.

As years went by, some of the look-alike-con players had children. Some of those were seemingly their look-alike person's kid, especially for the male players. But many who were into the occult game did start families in ordinary ways, often living seemingly only ordinary lives.

After one more generation, there was a child with two parents who both were raised into belief in belief in such con-game telepathy. As part of his child-play, he was played many a game for learning the (for this family only kind of secret) stuff. While doing it, he started to try to have telepathic communication with insects, frogs and rats. Dong it, he got frightened. Because there were signs that those animals were cunning in telepathy, not just the small stuff his that society and his parents seemed to feel they were.

When he told his mother about this, she looked doubtful but curious. After a few hours, her husband returned from work, and they talked to him about it. At first he didn't say anything, only looked as if there were things about it that started his mind working. But at last he asked: "Are you sure the rats weren't into pretending to understand what these things are about?"

"It's certain," his wife answered, "in that we have tried to fool them about why we try to study them! They reacted by certifying that we seemed ridiculously into believing that of ourselves!"

"Really?" he asked bluntly.

"Yeah, really!" both his wife and his son replied.

"... and the mice too, I think!" the son added.

"Really ..." his father said again.

"Mh, yeah," the mother said."And worse than just that, it seems they are into trying to fool us all, I mean people in general!"

"But .... " the father began.

"It's not they who seemed to know it when our parents first started with this stuff!" his wife filled in. "I've already thought about that! But they do seem to be catching on with it!"

"Oh! Do you mean it's because we're doing it?"

"Perhaps. ..." she replied. "But they seem to be cunning in a different sense than that it's from us they've learned most of it, I think."

Her husband sighed. "Does this mean that we can be spied upon as long as they're near us, or is there something long-distance too about their fashion of telepathy?"

"It seems that they're into mostly the nearby stuff. That's why I said that their cunning of it different."

"So I thought," he said with a little smile on him.

She sighed. "It's not as safe as it can seem, even so. They seem to be learning us for it!"

"Damned them!" He looked at his son and wife. "Why don't we call those expert exterminators of rats? I mean they wouldn't be experts, would they, if they got stuck in their traps of spying by telepathy!"

"Yeah! Or let's just get a cat!" his son burst out.

"A cat! You're right. Let's try that."

"I'm afraid I'm allergic to cats," his wife said.

He wrinkled his eye-brows. "Oh shit! Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"It didn't seem important!"

"Do you think it's not? I want a family without that!" He looked at their son. "Even you, perhaps?"

"What?"

"Do you think you're allergic to cats?"

"No!"

His father peered a bit scornfully at him. "Are you sure? I mean do you pet them ever? And are you sure they don't get you ill when you do?"

"The son though about it. "Yeah, I fondle them at times. Once when I did it a lot, mom got ill afterwards, but I didn't."

His father smiled, then frowned and looked at his wife. After a while he drew his breath. "I don't feel that you can't be living with Jessica's former boyfriend, and then pretend to be her for the rest of your life!"

"But what if Jessica finds out?"

"I don't know. You'll have to solve that problem!"

She looked thoughtful a while before replying: "No, I can't!"

"I think you could've done it if there was money in it all!"

She sighed and thought about it. "Yeah, alright, perhaps I can," she said at last.

"Do I have to help you, or will you manage?"

"I'd prefer if you did, but I can handle it  -  preliminarily!"

A few months later Jessica's ex had seemingly moved out of town  -  with a new girlfriend or something, it seemed.

The cat that she moved out of the way for seemed to catch mice quite well, but was not quite keen on rats. But even the they seemed inhibited by it.