Read Online Casual (Sex) Friday (66 Faces) by Evie Kiels - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Evie Kiels
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Why did Calvin have to keep asking him out? Could the man not take a hint?
He rushed out of the building as quickly as possible. Ben's mood had turned so sour he needed to take corrective action immediately before the weekend was ruined. He sent a text to Sarah, asking if she wanted to meet for drinks. While waiting for her response, he took a moment to absorb the heat of the summer afternoon. Airplanes drifted one after another across the cloudless blue sky. Despite the sun's being blocked by one of downtown's taller structures, light reflected in bright glares off the building's glass exterior.
His phone buzzed, and he hoped Sarah had agreed. But she hadn't—busy until nine, she said. He tried not to feel too let down, but he didn't have any other friends he could invite out at the drop of a hat.
Having nowhere to go, Ben started walking north. The sun played hide and seek as he passed by taller, then shorter buildings. As he left the tourist-laden streets of downtown, the businesses transitioned from clothing stores and specialty shops to smaller neighborhood hangouts. The bars and restaurants were filling with the after work crowd. He wished he were there with one of the laughing groups of people huddled around a small table.
He turned west, heading toward the waterfront and then went into the park. He had an inkling of a plan now. When he was especially down, few things could cheer him up more than watching other men in pleasure. He normally waited until he was in the privacy of his own home, but sometimes being in public was nice.
The sun, now unimpeded by buildings, reflected off the bright blue surface of Puget Sound. He passed a playground teeming with toddlers and kids; they screamed and shouted as they ran around in circles and clambered over slides and swings. He walked along the park path, the sounds of children dimming and then fading away completely, until he found a clean, empty bench. The grassy area across the path was filled with small groups of people sitting around soaking up the sun. He fell into the seat and angled his bag so that it took up the rest of the bench.
All sorts of people passed in front of him. An elderly man jogged slowly, his wrinkled skin trying to keep up with him and stay on his bones. Two young women, slightly overweight, power walked and chatted as they flew past. Dads ran with jogging strollers, pushing sleeping infants while keeping their bodies toned. Four dogs of varying colors and breeds pulled their walker along behind them.
None of them noticed Ben sitting alone on the bench. They passed by anonymously, never to be seen again. He would never know them; they would never know him. There was beauty in that anonymity. He was in their world, yet he wasn't. He imagined his little bubble of existence on this bench like a one-way glass: he could see through it, but no one could see him inside.
A pair of men walked by holding hands; Ben smiled at the sight. Someday he wanted to find that again. If he could just find someone interesting. And honest. His mind flashed momentarily to his ex, and his hand tensed and clenched. No. Think happy thoughts. Ben looked back at the couple. They leaned in toward one another as they walked, talking quietly in their own little world. He wondered if they felt like he did—like they were in their own little bubble invisible to outsiders.
Ben looked around, trying to spot any man who looked like a potential Mr. Right. He didn't see one. Never saw one. There would probably never be another Mr. Right. Although, 'another' wasn't the right word, since that implied there had already been a Mr. Right in his life.
Letting his head fall back so the sun warmed his face, Ben closed his eyes. He focused on the perfect feeling of the summer afternoon and tried to purge the negative thoughts. He needed to see something real. Something true. Be reassured that some people were exactly what they seemed.
He took out his phone, and with a tap and slide on
He rushed out of the building as quickly as possible. Ben's mood had turned so sour he needed to take corrective action immediately before the weekend was ruined. He sent a text to Sarah, asking if she wanted to meet for drinks. While waiting for her response, he took a moment to absorb the heat of the summer afternoon. Airplanes drifted one after another across the cloudless blue sky. Despite the sun's being blocked by one of downtown's taller structures, light reflected in bright glares off the building's glass exterior.
His phone buzzed, and he hoped Sarah had agreed. But she hadn't—busy until nine, she said. He tried not to feel too let down, but he didn't have any other friends he could invite out at the drop of a hat.
Having nowhere to go, Ben started walking north. The sun played hide and seek as he passed by taller, then shorter buildings. As he left the tourist-laden streets of downtown, the businesses transitioned from clothing stores and specialty shops to smaller neighborhood hangouts. The bars and restaurants were filling with the after work crowd. He wished he were there with one of the laughing groups of people huddled around a small table.
He turned west, heading toward the waterfront and then went into the park. He had an inkling of a plan now. When he was especially down, few things could cheer him up more than watching other men in pleasure. He normally waited until he was in the privacy of his own home, but sometimes being in public was nice.
The sun, now unimpeded by buildings, reflected off the bright blue surface of Puget Sound. He passed a playground teeming with toddlers and kids; they screamed and shouted as they ran around in circles and clambered over slides and swings. He walked along the park path, the sounds of children dimming and then fading away completely, until he found a clean, empty bench. The grassy area across the path was filled with small groups of people sitting around soaking up the sun. He fell into the seat and angled his bag so that it took up the rest of the bench.
All sorts of people passed in front of him. An elderly man jogged slowly, his wrinkled skin trying to keep up with him and stay on his bones. Two young women, slightly overweight, power walked and chatted as they flew past. Dads ran with jogging strollers, pushing sleeping infants while keeping their bodies toned. Four dogs of varying colors and breeds pulled their walker along behind them.
None of them noticed Ben sitting alone on the bench. They passed by anonymously, never to be seen again. He would never know them; they would never know him. There was beauty in that anonymity. He was in their world, yet he wasn't. He imagined his little bubble of existence on this bench like a one-way glass: he could see through it, but no one could see him inside.
A pair of men walked by holding hands; Ben smiled at the sight. Someday he wanted to find that again. If he could just find someone interesting. And honest. His mind flashed momentarily to his ex, and his hand tensed and clenched. No. Think happy thoughts. Ben looked back at the couple. They leaned in toward one another as they walked, talking quietly in their own little world. He wondered if they felt like he did—like they were in their own little bubble invisible to outsiders.
Ben looked around, trying to spot any man who looked like a potential Mr. Right. He didn't see one. Never saw one. There would probably never be another Mr. Right. Although, 'another' wasn't the right word, since that implied there had already been a Mr. Right in his life.
Letting his head fall back so the sun warmed his face, Ben closed his eyes. He focused on the perfect feeling of the summer afternoon and tried to purge the negative thoughts. He needed to see something real. Something true. Be reassured that some people were exactly what they seemed.
He took out his phone, and with a tap and slide on
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