Deserts of Desire

As a couple, Persephone and Ned have arrived at the point where all couples start their journey into the deserts of desire. Born to be wild only on weekends.

While she desperately waits for a message from Ned, Persephone is annoyed with herself. For a short time, she was one of those women who said: "The men I fancy don't fancy me; and the men who fancy me, I don't fancy them."

She understood the principle quite quickly. A woman who is too clingy, shows her feelings too quickly, is too obviously after a man - is uninteresting for men at best. A woman who is mysterious, who signals interest but doesn't chase, who doesn't let herself be thrown off course by distancing or games; a woman who is self-assured and seems to have many possibilities; a woman with her own life and her own interests, for whom a man only plays a minor role - she is the ideal woman.

Neediness versus Independence

It can be reduced to two words. Neediness versus independence. Persephone quickly understood that this is what she has to embody in order to win her favorite game. The only thing she lacks up to now is impulse control. People who eat a peace of chocolate instead of the whole bar are a mystery to her. Her emotions are strong, and when she's on fire for a person or a subject, she's on fire. So she knows exactly how to behave; unfortunately, she often doesn't succeed. For the most part, she has gotten out of the habit of making the biggest blunders. She never chases a man on the phone, never sends two text messages in a row, is never too obvious in the same place he is; she makes sure that searching her tartget on the internet leaves no traces. The bad thing is that the more she feels, the harder such conspiration becomes. And Ned really gets under her skin. He is too much like her ideal image of a man: an intellectual with a strong body, masculine yet adept at interpersonal nuances. He juggles words, quotes and her needs effortlessly.

Part of her despises the proud, controlled, cool women; the ones who are truly independent inside and never allow themselves these kinds of blunders. She accuses them of an emotional coldness, a lack of depth and fire; despite all the disappointments and pain it has cost her, she doesn't want to give up this trait in herself. Because only the fire in her allows her to live an intensity that, if she lets it run at the right time, creates a dream world and gives her lover the feeling that he is the center of the universe - a universe created just for him, in which he is the king.

Breathless, she opens the door when the doorbell rings. She doesn't know how he got into her hallway, but Ned stands right in front of her and pulls her into a passionate, intimate kiss in which their tongues tangle around each other and a heaviness seems to pull her directly into the earth. Only a stupid thought of social conventions seduces her to push Ned back with both arms, only to pull him over the threshold by his hands at the same moment.

"Come in."

He follows her, something has softened his features. He looks younger, more carefree. Just right for her next move. She wants to know more about him before she lets him into her inner sanctum.

He admires the black velvet dress, low-cut; the red lace of her bra flashes from the lower edge of her neckline. She turns her back to him and walks ahead. Tightly flattering her figure at the top, the velvet dress leaves her legendary bottom undisclosed. He follows her into her living room. We have neglected to describe it. The interior does not remind of the second hand style of a budding academic, but rather of those secretive places where pendulums are used and initiates hold séances. Ned sees heavy, dark furniture; a huge music system with record player and accompanying collection; violet velvet curtains and old Persian carpets in front of a plain white sofa.

"So, what game am I going to play today?" he asks with a self-confident grin.

Without being asked, she presses a glass of red wine into his hand, which he empties halfway without batting an eyelid. Without clinking glasses with her. She doesn't know why this small gesture means so much to her and why such behavior on his part displeases her so much.

Does he want to humiliate her?

How many times could Ned pick up a woman in passing who doesn't challenge him? And then they go out for a meal or a drink in one of the three bars that this city on the edge of the inhabited world has to offer. Everything could be so easy for Ned. Why is he hanging out with Persephone? Is he up to something? Does he have dark intentions? Persephone banishes the suspicion. Ned is far too attractive to sacrifice to paranoia.

Persephone sits down on the sofa and invites Ned to join her. She allows herself a daring move by exposing her breasts. Her nipples become erect without any problem. Persephone enjoys Ned's greedy gazes. She briefly considers allowing him to stimulate her nipples, but then decides against it. In front of the couple on the small, wooden coffee table is a black mirror. Only now does Ned realize that there is no light in this room; only the pale light of the inevitable street lamps shines from below into the high windows. Persephone hands him the black mirror. Of course he knows the symbolism.

"First you drag me into a church and play with Christian symbols - and today we're going in the other direction, yes? What's that going to be, you little witch?" Pesephone smiles that he calls her that; she almost likes it. Of course, she wants at all costs to avoid him thinking she's esoteric in the way that desperate women over fifty become esoteric.

"I was reading Aleister Crowley. I needed something that would challenge me in terms of language and content. I'm sure you can understand that appeal. And of course that led me to experiment a little with the instruments and approaches mentioned there."

"Magic is the science and art of causing change to occur in conformity with the will."Of course, he can also quote Crowley."And what do you want to change today?"She looks directly at him, her eyes almost black in the dimmed light."Your perception. I want you to look into this mirror for a long time. Quietly. And then tell me what you see."

Unmoved, he agrees to her suggestion. Which shows that his knowledge is also limited in some places. It's not magic, but a well-known psychological phenomenon that mirrors in the dark can cause hallucinations and visions if you look at them for too long. Persephone hopes that his visions will betray him. Unmoved, Ned stares into the mirror, in his mind seeing this little experiment for what it is - an obstacle on the way to Persephone's butt. But after a while a shiver of dismay suddenly flits across his striking features.

Aprubt Ned puts the mirror down on the coffee table.

"What did you see?" she asked at him, curious, surprised at the strength of his reaction.

"A man opening a letter and staring at the paper."

Ned admits this bluntly. Persephone had expected many things, grimaces, bloody knives, demons. But not with a letter that would frighten a man as controlled as Ned. The caginess of his gaze and his posture tells her that she has gone too far. She accidentally hit the nail on the head.

"You don't have to tell me what kind of letter that was," Persephone tries to defuse the situation and bring Ned back to her and her desire. Suddenly her little magical tricks are no longer interesting and engaging but disturbing and repulsive.Persephone falls off the plan and does what is not advisable again. She attacks Ned's closed-mindedness, physically. He is like a man under water, his arms locked, absent. She opens his arms, sits on his lap, presses her mouth to his. He hesitates briefly, but only wants to get away from what has crept back into his thoughts through the mirror.

Finally he has enough of her games. Ned opens a new chapter. He orders Persephone to show him her tongue. He strokes the little scoop and puts his fingers in her mouth. He bends over her and lets his saliva run down a long thread to her attentive tongue. Then he bites her lip, grabs her hips and skillfully guides her in everything. She feels his manhood, senses how he returns to power. Her fingers run over his neck, his collarbones. Here her foreplays end. She held him out for five days while she climaxed a hundred times. He grabs her with a flourish, stands up and carries her into the bedroom. That is what she doesn't want. Not yet. Maybe never with Ned.

She cannot explain it. It is not really a matter of her preferences. Persephone could have conventional sexual relations with this or that person at any time without feeling the need to keep the tension going.

Maybe it's just Ned's accessibility; his willingness to accept anything. Hints he's dropped. A hidden vein that Persephone is compelled to uncover.