Who was this guy? He was not familiar to me, he was, for all intents and purposes an Ordinary White Guy. Dressed in Jeans, striped T shirt and open sweater he seemed appropriately dressed for his peers in the booth. Perhaps he knew Alyssa? Or had known her? A classmate? An ex-lover made jealous? I made a mental note to ask her after we had left. No need to ruin a lovely breakfast with an awkward encounter; or rather, increase the amount of awkward energy already seeping into this sun-soaked Saturday.Alyssa suddenly gasped, her eyes wide as her hand flew to her mouth. My focus snapped back to my foreground. She set her sandwich down and delicately finished chewing, her expression changing from surprise to concern. “Bite your tongue?” I asked with a sympathetic look.“No” she said thickly through a mouthful of avocado toast “I think I – I think I broke something.” She wiped her hands as she stood and without another word, walked briskly past the counter to where I assumed the bathroom. You’re too kind.’‘Of course you can. You might not get a lift now and it’s supposed to rain tonight.’‘Vell, if you’re sure it’s no trouble …’So it was that Willi stayed the night – a night he’ll never forget. Or us for that matter.I must add Willi was the perfect gentleman. What happened that night was not of his making. I should also explain Annie and I, both in our 50s, had crossed the line in our marriage several times before and what happened next was not new for us.After a shower, a simple meal and a couple of bottles of wine, we all sat by the open fire, talking about anything and everything. Willi and I sat on the long lounge while Annie, now really chirpy with the wine and the company, sat cross-legged on the floor in front of Willi. Her white satin evening coat hung loosely open at the top and spread across her parted knees - her breasts and white knickers peeping provocatively at Willi.Willi said his feet and legs ached from trudging the roads so Annie insisted she massage.
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